Logs:This Is Good
| |
|---|
| RL Date: 7 June, 2014 |
| Who: Jo, R'hin |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: After Hraedhyth's flight, both riders are looking for something. |
| Where: Jo's Hideout Weyr, High Reaches |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, A'rist/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
  |
| Of course Jo knew there was a flight going on in the Reaches. How could she not with Tacuseth by her side? One thing was certain, if anyone was expecting to find the wily bluerider out and about in the chaos that happens after a goldflight has ended, they would find themselves sorely disappointed. One can find the blue dragon there on his ledge, a clear indication that his black-leathered lady is somewhere inside. It's not the usual charismatic, energetic bronzerider that shows up on Jo's ledge after the flight. R'hin's got stubble covering his chin, the initial bruising of a few received punches, distinctly favoring his left leg as he climbs down from obliging green who gave him a ride up -- not to mention that he's wearing a shirt and nothing else on this cold wintry night. He has a bottle of something clutched in one hand -- though not quite his usual standard. Shivering, jaw tight, his words are inaudible at first, addressed to Tacuseth. Maybe he asks for permission, or where the blue's rider is, or maybe he's just plain confused. Tacuseth gives the arriving green space to land with a rumbled greeting. The fact that he doesn't send a lack of invitation suggests that Jo isn't busy. The blue does seem to stare the bronzerider down when he pauses, and something must have passed between dragon rider because in the next instant there's a call from within: "So yer gonna stay out there and freeze yer ass off or what?" Probably as close to a greeting that he's going to get. Tacuseth seems to dip his wedge-shaped head right after it towards R'hin, seeming to be waiting for him to proceed. There's a pause, R'hin holding the gaze of the blue for a beat longer before he pushes inside past that drape, one hand clinging stubbonly to that bottle, the other pressing against his leg. His eyes seek out Jo, and both bottle and injury are quickly forgotten -- undeniable lust stirs in the pale, glazed look of his eyes, a need that takes him swiftly over towards the bluerider. When R'hin enters the weyr, he'll find Jo all leaned up against her desk infront of the large, disjointed map that is plastered over that side of the weyr. She only has on the leather pants and a torn-up looking sleeveless vest as she downs whatever is in the flask she holds in one hand. Seeing him, her sharp gaze takes in the whole of him without pause or words, letting her gaze graze where his injury lies before he's quickly before her and she finds that lust in his return gaze. She doesn't duck out of the way or move, simply leaning there and watching him. Waiting. There's a slice in the fabric of his pants, as if a knife has cut through there. There's not much time to take it in, though: R'hin's reaching for her, pressing lips to hers in a demanding way. Her passivity is odd enough that even though the haze of post-flight loss, he stops, staring at her with baited breath. Confusion and need are in his eyes, and his voice is rough, uneven as he says, "Are you--" but the rest of the sentence never gets finished, as if he's not sure what he means to say. When R'hin reaches for her, that's when Jo comes to life. Her return kiss is rough and demanding, likely spurred on from the radiating emotions of the goldflight. Hands grab at the front of his clothes, pulling him further towards her until she feels him pull away, meeting that conflicting gaze with a swift, "Questions later. Ya know what I want. Ya know what ya want." Quick words. Stating facts. She's not going to try to give him a chance to respond to that, either, if her lips to his has any say in the matter. And, in case that doesn't work, already those hands are lifting that shirt up to reveal skin underneath. That is indeed a pretty effective way of silencing any communication, and R'hin's certainly not about to complain. His skin is cold underneath the shirt, which is perhaps one of the reasons why he presses up against Jo after the offending material has been removed. His pants will be harder to take off, and when they are the cut of a knife wound is visible against his upper thigh -- but such concerns will be addressed later, as he seeks to have the bluerider out of her clothes, too. It's clear he means to take her right here, on the desk, regardless of what else is on it. Smiling now into that kiss when she feels him complying, Jo tosses that shirt to land somewhere on the floor before she's onto his pants - and it's hard to tell if she notices the cut in his pants or not. Her movements don't pause or break, fluid as she tries to graze her teeth on his bottom lip. Always hovering between pain and pleasure, and this likely won't be an exception as her wiry frame shifts and moves in an effort to get her own clothes free. She doesn't look to be leaving that desk, either. R'hin will definitely find her to be willing participant regardless of what falls free from her desk throughout it. It doesn't take much manoeuvering to position her on the desk, climbing on top after her. It's not slow and leisurely by any means -- need drives R'hin, and soon enough it's over, leaving the bronzerider's head bent into the crook of Jo's neck, breathing hard, sweat now lining his skin. He murmurs something inaudibly into her skin -- something much more R'hin like, about seconds -- before a slow laugh emanates from him. Their position is awkward and uncomfortable on the hard desk, now the moment has passed, which might be the cause of the amusement. Jo's body is pliable, and while she seems to be willing to let R'hin lead this party, the bluerider is by no means playing the passive and gentle lady. His need drives hers, and hers pushes at his as she matches him in aggression. Jo's never known to be a gentle lover. When it's over, sweat flushes her olive-hued skin as one long arm is draped over the man on top of her, letting the roughened nails lightly trail up and down his arm as she works to control her breathing in kind. To his murmurs, there's low laughter rumbling up from deep within that could be felt more than heard as she shifts against him to get more comfortable on an uncomfortable desk. In her low, husky voice, "Better?" she sends his way, an unseen brow lifting to his slow laugh. "Just what I... needed." R'hin murmurs. Pale eyes are clearer: no longer fueled by need, and as she shifts against him, he adjusts, his arm instinctively curls around her back, roughened fingertips exploring the curve of her skin. A sudden, rumbling throaty laugh comes from him, as he says, "The bed, the floor, the wall, the desk. I think we've christened everywhere in your weyr... except Tacuseth's wallow." It's very possible that's suggestion in his voice. "Mm-hm," Jo puts out on the first with that lazy grin appearing. "I knew ya'd come. That gold goin' up's all anyone's been talkin' of these days. That bronze of yers couldn' resist the chase, could he?" Rhetorical at best, that last one while she arches her back into his caressing touches before he brings up the locale. "Ha!" she barks, shaking her head and letting some of her damp hair cling to him. "Ya wanna try that place'n have Tac try to sit on us while we're gettin' naked? Somethin' tells me bein' smushed by a heavy dragon would be a turn-off, darlin'." Even though, by the chuckle alone, it's clear she's considering it anyway. "He never could." And strangely, there is a genuine sort of anger when R'hin refers to Leiventh, not an emotion that he's ever associated with his dragon. It gives him a tenseness in his posture that can be felt through her contact with him, and even the latter discussion can't quite dispel it, though he does concede: "Maybe when he's distracted by a green sometime." The exploration of his fingers has ceased, for now, though his gaze is fixed on her, expression distant. That Jo could feel the anger R'hin emanates in response to his dragon seems to surprise her for her head tilts down at an angle to try and see his face. Feeling the tension, her fingers take on more pressure in her caresses in an effort to soothe as she murmurs, "Suppose, it's in their nature, darlin'. Don' much like when Tac chases myself. Ain' no control in that." Meant to be comfort or understanding? Perhaps, and the grin return when he answers her on the idea involving her blue's wallow before she watches his face when his expression changes. A slight frown starts out as she studies him, her free hand lifting to try and soothe out one of the slivers of hair that's in his face. "Yer alright?" she finally asks in a low voice, her tone even missing the usually joke and bravado associated with her. R'hin's slow in responding, and when it does, his voice is quiet. "It's never... really bothered me." The chasing, presumably. "This time, though..." He grimaces. "It's his nature, but we were in agreement. I thought we were, anyway. Then she reached out for him, and he wanted her, and I couldn't let him do it. It happened at Monaco, too." Inadvertently, while he talks, his fingers press into her skin, and the second he realizes he's doing it, he immediately eases his fingers and releases her, moving to sit up with a grimace of pain. "Ever?" On the chasing, on can assume, Jo watching him closely. She fall silent on further words though, seeming to be rolling what R'hin says in her head. "Monaco," she echoes only that words, injecting enough understanding there before she shakes her head and adds, "Didn' realize there's a way to have them not." Hands release him when he sits up, the bluerider moving into a seated position with him as whatever else she was going to add seems to fall by the wayside when her dark gaze falls on what she can see of his legs. A hand reaches out to that injury, her intense gaze lingering there as she says, "Don' wanna have ya revealin' shit ya don' wanna be talkin' about, darlin'. Weyrleadership'n shit. Dunno if it's my place. I am gonna ask what happened here, though." That injury. She nods to it. "See if ya want me to patcha up." "Leiventh only really chases golds. So losing feels like winning. Especially if," R'hin stops there, looks at Jo, and reaches out a fingertip to brush against her jaw, bringing her lips close to his for a strangely gentle kiss. After a beat, a breath, he says, "You can... distract them, a little. They'll still chase, but--" he glances down at the wound. By the angle, it is self-inflicted, deliberate. "It pulls them out for a moment. A moment is all another dragon needs." The Savannah rider looks reflective, a moment, before he nods at her offer. R'hin's explanation and the unexpectedly gentle kiss seems to take Jo aback for just a moment enough for her to echo, "Especially if. Ya know ya don' need some gold gettin' randy to hop by." She never strays from humor for too long, evidently. Maybe the placed humor hides the more natural smile that was starting to perk up when her kissed her like that. Then she listens on how to hold a dragon back, nodding here and there as she takes it in. "Hmmm. Think I'll have to try this next time. Hold on." She turns and slides herself off the desk, not bothering to cover herself as she heads over towards shelves where she's lined up healing supplies. Returning with something that looks like a cloth bandage and a small pot, she eyes the wound and says, "Looks like ya did that, there, yerself. That the distraction yer talkin' 'bout?" Then she perches on the edge of the desk in preparation of tending to the wound. "It's certainly not stopped me before," R'hin allows, with a sudden smile that might be as much due to Jo's reaction as her words. As she slides off the desk, he unashamedly turns his head to watch her retreat, admiring the view. "I wouldn't recommend it," he says, as she walks back. The faint grunt seems to be acknowledgement of her guess, even if he doesn't voice it aloud, shifting his weight to lift his leg a little so she can better see, jaw clenching briefly. He's watching her work, silent, pale eyes fixed on her. Laughing outright, "Ya seem to know the location of my weyr very well, even without yer dragon," Jo notes with a click of her tongue. "Long before yer move to here. Ya got that weyr of yers all fixed up, by the way? Shouldn' I be gettin' an, I'unno, a plant or somethin' for a proper house-warmin'? I didn' last time," presumably the last time being when she found out he and Savannah were to be here permanently. Then she goes to work, frowning a bit as she treats the wound while listening and looking up at him every now and then. "Doesn' work often enough?" she guesses when he doesn't recommend the method lips momentarily perked. "Bah, and it would be just like my blue-tinted bastard to sabotage me in a flight, too." "A plant?" R'hin seems equal parts bemused and affronted. "Surely you know me better than that by now. A good drop of wine might suit the place better." Even if it wouldn't last. Her latter question has him grinning, somewhat wryly: "More like, it hurts like fuck, and you can't between. Imagine getting stuck at Telgar for all that time?" He shakes his head. "Besides, it only matters during senior flights. Sometimes, it's... good to win a junior flight." For Leiventh? For him? He's not specific on that matter, grimacing visibly when she uses some of that pot's contents, but otherwise not complaining. Smirking like a wise ass, "It's worth sayin' it just to see that look on yer face," Jo answers on the plant-gift. "Liquor, I have aplenty," and she makes a one-armed sweeping gesture towards where bottles can be seen lined along the opposite wall. "Grab one and we'll split it in yer weyr one day." The picture R'hin paints on the next has her shaking her head a few times before saying, "Telgar? Yeah, I hear ya. Went there recently and made sure I didn' linger." She straightens up in a signal that the salve was put on before reaching for the bandage. "Now what's the deal with yer face?" Yeah, she's noticed the bruises there, too. "I'll peruse your selection for the most expensive bottle... later." R'hin promises, and while the words are light-hearted there's little doubt he'll do exactly that. Meanwhile, while she works, his hand stretches out, reaching for the ends of her short hair, twisting the ends around his fingers. "Mm? Oh... a little brawl. Nothing untoward. H'vier was getting handsy with Azaylia, K'del and that boy A'rist got into things..." he shrugs, as if that's particularly par for the course. Jo scoffs. It's an overexaggerated one for his initial response to her booze collection that is short-lived. While applying the cloth bandage on the treated wound, she looks up when he touches her hair with a brief study of his gaze. His answer on the brawl and its simplicity has her rolling her eyes in open jest before she responds, "He's still at it, this H'vier? Guess he never gives up. Ya bronzeriders with yer fists." Hope Azaylia had put some of that trainin' I heard she got from Taikrin to use." Fingers brush the bandage before she waves toward to signal that he patched up and good to go. "Keep it up and ya'll turnin' into me," she notes with a short rumble. "Comin' back home almost every night sportin' bloody knuckles from a fight ya don' remember. Yer leg'll be alright though." "You know what it's like, when they rise... it's better than the alternative." Which R'hin doesn't elaborate on. With a grin as she finishes, he says, "When I was your age, that was all I ever did." Tentatively, he eases off the desk, putting weight onto the leg, before reaching to pull her up and against him, leaning in to press lips against hers. It hasn't the needy demanding of earlier, but it's still passionate for all that, slowly walking backwards towards the bed. "Next time," he's mumbling against her lips, "Invite me. I'd love to come home with you." "Yeah, know it," Jo agrees on the first. "Got through the end of weyrlin'hood that way." But hearing R'hin speak the next has her quipping back, "My age, huh? Yer gonna have me ask ya what else ya were doin' when yer were my age?" Her light tease gets taken up into that kiss, her own alluding to that wild aggression that she seems to be holding back for now. She follows him towards her bed, her body snug against his as she murmurs back to his last, "I will. Bloody or not. 'M glad yer here, ya know. Know this ain' exactly where yer wantin' to be back at, but, I think this is good. For what it's worth." Her words, murmured back before she pulls him into a deepened kiss. A dark chuckle comes from R'hin, his breath tickling against her skin. "You and I are far too alike, my temptress." The comparison amuses him, filling pale eyes with a light as his fingers trail into her hair again. For the moment, in this moment, R'hin is in agreement: "This is good." And then he's pulling her down onto the bed, and there's rolling, and it's by no coincidence that Jo ends up on top. "Best comparison to have, if yer askin'," Jo 's bravado knows no bounds when it comes to them being too alike. She draws up both arms along his back when he's in agreement, and indeed, he will once again find her amenable to the bed. When she ends up straddling him, the blueriding temptress that she is takes it from there, proving that she's more than ready for the next round. Later, much later, there will be wine selection, and discussion and maybe even a breakfast in bed, assuming Leiventh's amenable enough by morning. It's late morning before R'hin finally departs, off to meet the rest of his wing and no doubt discuss the recent developments. |
Leave A Comment