Logs:Hypothetically A Hostage
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| RL Date: 29 July, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Tayte |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: 'Soon' is now, and Tayte's come to spend the night with Jo and see her map. A hypothetical discussion of what would happen if Jo held Tayte hostage leads to some enlightening conversation. |
| Where: Jo's HideOut Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated and played via gdocs. |
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| Jo's HideOut Weyr, High Reaches Weyr With the rock being a burnished grey, the inner portion of the weyr appears almost cavernous when it's not. Past the heavy deep blue drapery that separates weyr from ledge, the sunken floor looks polished smooth, as if it has been blown like glass. Few cracks marr its surface, giving it a nice contrast to the slightly rocky walls. The backmost wall has niches carved deeply into them, giving way to empty shelves and holders. Whatever's left belongs to the very large map that depicts in sheer detail the whole area and mountains of the High Reaches, including its holds, crafts, and the position of the Weyr. The leftmost wall is riddled with hollowed-out crates turned sideways, giving the impression of a vintner's wall of wine. Very little of the bottles can be seen, giving the area a very desolate feel. A light-weight, deep brown desk takes up space before the large map with a stack of blank hides, writing stylus and a glow basket to top it. The large white-sheet bed was pushed to the rightmost wall along with some shelving. A rug occupies this portion of the floor, along with a painting depicting a wintry landscape hung up on the wall. At the foot of the bed are three tool hangers sticking out of the wall, currently being used by a worn-looking riding jacket, riding straps, and a riding helmet.
The curtain to the inner portion of the weyr is drawn back, even though Tacuseth is nowhere to be found. Sounds of things moving and shifting can be heard within to indicate that someone's home even if the dragon isn't and further investigation past the curtain will find Jo in the process of pushing her heavy press towards the foot of her bed. Her leather pants are the only part of her riding gear on, with her a black tank top adorning the upper part of her as she works. Sweat beads her forehead when she straightens up to the call, tossing back over her shoulder, "In here!" as she examines her handiwork. "Rearranging?" Tayte queries after taking a moment to take in the scene of Jo at work. Her eyes then flutter around the room. She moves a step toward the map, curiosity snagged, but then she remembers: they're in private. Jo's right over there. So curiosity for the map is set aside in favor of moving toward the bluerider, no doubt hoping for a better greeting than the casual one they've exchanged. "Thinkin' about rearrangin'," Jo clarifies, flashing Tayte a welcoming grin as she turns to face her fully. She does close the distance between them, adding, "Looks like yer made it up here after all. Hey." That 'hey' is chased with long fingers touching the bottom of her chin as she goes in for a kiss, letting her lips linger before it breaks and she says, "Take a look around if ya want. Let me clean up a second." Herself, she seems to mean since she's reaching for the discarded towel on her bed to put to her skin. "I could clean you up with my tongue," Tayte points out teasingly after pressing her lips delightedly against Jo's, coming away with a wide smile. She does take the woman up on her invitation. Though, she does ask: "What's wrong with the way it's arranged now? Or are you just bored?" Now she's had her kiss, set her bag down on the floor, and even has Jo's blessing to poke around. Her curiosity takes her right back over to the map, gazing at all of the pins. "Amazing." She compliments after a moment. She shifts so she can better look at the pins in and around her home Holding. "Plenty of time for that," Jo is quick to toss back as she pats that towel to herself, flashing her a crooked grin when she settles on the edge of her bed. She watches Tayte study her place closely while doing so, only choosing to speak when she's asked about the rearranging. "Actually, there's a trap door underneath the press," she remarks in a straight, deadpan voice. "It's where I keep all the bodies." One can hope she's joking. The infamous map wall is in full detail of the whole of the Reaches area, with bits or chunks of areas beyond pinned to the sides. Every cave, every elevated hill, every inch is there - drawn in with different mediums with a few even in color. It definitely looks like it was something that took several turns to put together, and by the slight pride in her voice, it was clearly a pet project of hers: "Isn' it? Knew a man back in Keogh when I was a child that had somethin' like this in his office. He was one of the guard trainers with my father. I always snuck in there to see all the places he went when he went away, and always wanted to have one of my own ever since." "Only all night," Tayte complains in answer to Jo's judgment of 'plenty of time'. She tosses a 'very funny' look over her shoulder to the ex-con for the trapdoor comment. "Convenient that. Did you have it made special or were you just lucky when you moved in?" She continues to examine the map, taking in all of the intricate details. "I can see why you'd've wanted one.It's beautiful. I bet you have all kinds of interesting stories from all over." She twists toward the bluerider to ask, "Do you have a favorite place?" "I could just keep ya up here until ya can convince Tac to let ya down," Jo is terrible and she knows it, approaching her from behind as she studies the map wall. She doesn't even try to play sweet, either. Tayte would feel her long fingers suddenly at the small of her back, though should she turn to look at her when she takes that step to her side, Jo's gaze would be on the map wall, too. She can multitask. "Oh, I inherited, evidently," she goes on to say about the 'trapdoor' underneath her press. "The Weyr heard from the weyrlingmaster that I was a bad seed and they thought this weyr appropriate. I just haven' gotten around to clearin' it out yet." Now she looks at her, sending her a wink for the dark and deadpan humor before she adds after a breath, "Shit, I wish I had a trapdoor. Just thought about movin' the press to the wall where the bottles are is all. Been thinkin' of gettin' a couch up here since that seems to be all the rage around here." She turns now to the maps, her fingers lingering just underneath Tayte shirt on the small of her back, her proximity close as she answers to that all with, "Thanks. It's all not as glamorous as it looks. I have folks I do things for beyond here, and so, I get to hit up different places. Most of these I only stick around long enough to make sure Tac has it in his head so I can draw from him later. I like remote places, though," and she relinquishes her touch to lean forward and point to two places on the map - both closer to the mountains and away from cotholds. "Like these two. Just me'n Tac, feelin' like we're the only badass pair on Pern." There's even a touch of wistfulness in her tone. "You could. Although, you'll have to convince him to bespeak Cadejoth to let Vali's father know he's got to look after her while you hold me hostage in ecstasy." Tayte's smile is bemused as she considers the possibility and the fall out. "Though I can't say I'm entirely opposed to the idea. I'd miss Vali after a time though. Do you suppose Tacuseth would be swayed by a mother's love for her only child?" She swoons a little, dramatic. Then she's distracted. She must have missed the crate-wall because of her interest in the map, now she's craning her neck to look. She twists because she can't help her interest, sliding Jo's hand from back to front. She dressed simply tonight though, easy access with a pastel pink peasant top and flowy maroon skirt. that rises in the front to her knee, but drapes in the back to the ankle. She leans into Jo's touch. "I hope the people you work for have care with you. I should be very put out if something were to happen." Her lips prettily form a pout. She turns again to look where Jo points. "Sounds nice." She murmurs, "Good to get away sometimes." She adds, and then she's fleetly and gracefully moving with her skirt flowing behind her to let it swirl to a stop as she abruptly halts where she can get a better look at the wall where the bottles are. Her hands are clasped behind her back - mannerly, not touching anything, but fingers twitching as though they might like to. "Where do they come from?" She asks of the bottles, peeking back at the brunette briefly. Something said causes Jo to blink and regard the blonde beside her with open bemusement. "Wait. K'del's....?" Yvalia's father? That overshadows the tease couched in straight words. Perhaps even hearing his bronze's name is unexpected to the ex-con. Her hand is easily maneuvered as she waits for an answer, watching Tayte study her row of bottles on another wall. To her comment on her bosses, that lean against her touch, "They'll care so long as I do what they ask flawlessly," comes unbidden to her lips, just the taste of dryness in her tone about it. "And I just care for the marks it brings me. Worried about me already are we?" and her head turns, brow lifting at her as she stares. "And, it's good to get away. I do well enough. When's the last time ya've done it?" Away. Just to get away. She turns to study the bottles - most of them are hard liquor like whiskey from Bitran, a few of them even a good vintage. Those look to be the expensive kind, something one wouldn't skimp on when it came to marks. When she asks, "I figured that would grab yer attention more than anythin' else up here," she notes, moving to lean herself back against the wall. With an eye on the crates, "They're from all over," she explains. "Some of them are gifts I just hold onto. Others were taken as payment. The rest were stolen." She even says it with a straight face, though there's a distinctive difference between this and the last answer involving trap doors and stashing dead bodies. There's no teasing touch to this admittance. "Always plan to sale some, but never have the time. Or, I don' tend to like the dealer that wants them." Tayte reaches to push a lock self-consciously behind her ear, ducking her head down as she does. "Uh." She shifts her weight and then brings her eyes back up to Jo. "Yes. He adopted her a few months back. She-- wanted a father. And he wanted to be her father. So." Her fingers continue to fidget with the tips of her hair. "Problem?" She asks softly then. Fingers fall away with a sigh, "Shouldn't I be worried already? You've already said you're a dangerous woman. And I like you. Beyond just what happens in a bed or could. So. Worry seems the natural thing." She thinks back, "I-- went to Ista to have a girls night with Madilla about three months ago. That was probably the last time." Then the blonde's smile is curling with mischief, "Wrong. You grab my attention more than anything else up here." She does have to roll one word over her tongue, "Stolen." Her look turns thoughtful as ocean gaze ranges over the bottles again. "Problem with what? K'del?" Jo flaps a hand at her for that before hooking her thumbs into her pant pockets. "Nah, what problem would I have? Better the girl gets a father that wants to be around her than the ones the rest of us are stuck with," or, that's how Jo sees it. She does have to utter with short laughter at the next on being worried, "Ya'll worry yerself ragged, then. I try to get in at least one fight per seven. Keeps the blood flowin'." All bravado, as usual. She's good at that, it seems. "Ya know Madilla, huh?" she goes on to say with interest. "Good woman." She then moves from the wall to reach for one of the cheaper looking bottles as Tayte confesses what she does, sending her a smile full of easy mischief and arrogance. "Damn right I do," she says to that, lifting the bottle up to examine the label. She steps back with the bottle and drops down to sit on the edge on the bed as she adds, "So come on over here, then." Beat. "Stolen," she repeats in the same tone as the previous, watching him. Turning her question back on her now, "Problem?" she asks, openly amused. "That's rather how I figured it. Since I don't know who her blood father is anyway, and I trust K'del. He's--" A blush touches Tayte's cheeks, "-- my best friend." She shrugs her shoulders a little. There might be more to it than that from the blush, but, she's not adding anything more just now. "As long as you come home in one piece, I'll try not to worry myself into uselessness. Deal?" Amusement touches the words and her smile, but there's also a degree of sobriety to her words. "Yes. She's a good friend. I'd like to think we do well by each other for listening ears. Healer and bartender. So much the same job sometimes, and we're similarly suited for the bits that overlap." The listening and the advising. Then there's the banter to attend to, and she does come over there where Jo wants her, but stands in front of the rider instead of sliding into a seat beside her. "No. I'd not steal myself, if I could avoid it, but I'm not about to tell you how to handle yourself. Especially seeing as I like you as you are, it might make me a bit of a hypocrite to then try to correct any part of you." Well, what Tayte's probably going to learn early on with Jo is that if she's presented with a bone, she's going to chase it. This particular bone has K'del's name written all over it, and with the blonde blushing as she does, the bluerider is quick to prod with an amused, "Yer into him." It's observant at best, brows lifting at her. "Ya think he's hot, doncha?" Flirting with Tayte and gabbing on her love life beyond her is totally interchangeable to Jo. And, the deal put out there does get even softer laughter from her as she looks away, drawling after a pause, "I'll promise I'll still be breathin'," at least. "Everythin' else will right itself on its own." But then the blonde is there, standing in front of her, allowing the bluerider to look up, up at her face before she leans forward with her hands on her peasant top. "Would stealin' need to be corrected, if ya didn want to get me outta my pants?" she has to ask now, fingers slipping underneath to seek out her warm skin. She can do seduction and conversation, her hands saying one thing and her words another. "We-- do things." Tayte admits, the blush darkening. "Not sleep together, yet, but--" Yet. That explains it, right? "Been trying to get up the nerve. Men are different." What with the whole seed and sowing said seed business. She doesn't seem to have trouble talking about the non-friendship dimension of her relationship with K'del, just that there's awkwardness because it's not so straightforward as some relationships are. "Unless that's too much information? I'm not sure what you like to know and not know about the people you sleep with." She's apparently fairly open about her other relations. She shifts a little closer to Jo, "And no. I'd not correct you even if I didn't want you out of your pants. I'm not the correcting or the judging type. My way is mine and yours is yours, and the bits that overlap? I like them." She slips a foot between Jo's legs, her outside leg laying against the bluerider's own. Overlapping, see? She smiles. "I came to this Weyr while he was Weyrleader," Jo idly notes on the bronzerider, the brush of her fingers probably felt at the hem of her skirt. "I seem to recall him likin' to ride, though, it was unfortunate that I didn' get a chance to test that recollection myself." It's suggestive, but isn't it always with her? "His bronze was the one that Searched me, too. I find it curious that he's willin' to take on a child that's not his own, but, I tend to enjoy buttin' my nose into other people's lives when it suits me." Beat. "So no," she goes on to say with a crooked grin, "Too much information is just right. Is it that yer afraid ya'll get knocked up with every man ya fuck with?" Since they're on the subject. "Or is it mostly a trust thing?" Tayte shifting closer has those hands dragging down her skirt as the other thing gets addressed. "Everyone judges everyone in their own way," she states, pulling on that skirt playfully. "Even when we don' mean to." "What can I say. It was love at first sight. For them." Tayte points out of the father and daughter, with a bit of a laugh. "Cadejoth searched you. What was that like?" Then, thoughtful, "It's never too late to test things out for yourself, I'd imagine. Once I work up my nerve, we could, in theory, even -- together? If you're into that kind of thing," The blonde suggests with a raise of a brow. "I seem to recall it being delightful under the right circumstances." She has to take a deep breath in order to sigh. "I'm afraid." She admits. "I trust him. Maybe even more than I trust you." Which would be saying a lot, since-- well, she trust Jo completely. "I'd not have let him adopt Yvalia if I didn't trust him with everything I have that can trust. I just-- don't want what happened last time to happen all over again." Surely she's told Jo of the miserable old bitty of an apprentice-minder that predicted her pregnancy the moment she opened her legs unhandfasted. She shifts her hips so the skirt playfully tugs back against Jo's grasp. "Alright, then I don't force my judgments on others, how's that? Better? I've too much to be concerned about with my own self to be getting up in the moral and ethical concerns of everyone else. It's less messy that way, too." "It was...unexpected." That is Jo's answer on her own Searching with a slight frown, but she must feel like it needs further explanation since she adds, "I mean. Cadejoth was cool'n all, just...I was just surprised it happened at all. One minute we were talkin' and the next, I was bein' asked to stand. Which also seemed interestin' since the clutch I was bein' asked to stand for was rumored to be corrupted in some way. Tac's not corrupted though." Of course that invitation gets a look from her as she finally pops the cork on the bottle she's been holding and leans back to take a drink. "I'm into all kinds of things," she notes casually, "but, I've already got one bronzerider that's a handfull on his own. That, and, somethin' tells me K'del wouldn' be down for gettin' dirty with a convict that had accused him of some shit a long while ago. I doubt I'm on his favorites list right now, or still." Beat. "That's about how long it's been since I've last talked to him, by the way." Still, on trust and him, and her, "Good," she states, taking another drink before offering it up to Tayte. "Ya should trust him more than me. Most do." And that skirt may pull against her grip, but she's holding fast for the moment while she drinks.That last gets merely amusement from her, seeming far more interested in the distance between her skirt and the floor that it should crumple over. One track mind. "Can a clutch be corrupt?" Tayte asks, but it's mostly to the air. There are more interesting things. Like the fingers on her skirt. "Well, that's perfectly understandable. Bronzeriders are something else." There's an indulgent roll of her eyes though, so clearly she's not taking it too seriously. Then even a topic as fascinating as bronzeriders is lost to one more interesting. Jo's fingers, her skirt. The distance to the floor. This is the best kind of math word problem. A problem that's soon evolving into something with the most satisfying kind of solution. |
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