Logs:Questions with Answers
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| RL Date: 22 November, 2014 |
| Who: Lycinea, Rh'mis |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Rhey and Lya both want to use the brooding bench. |
| Where: Secluded Lakeside Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: I love that they both have brood/brooding icons. |
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>---< Sheltered Lakeside Ledge, High Reaches Weyr >--------------------------<
The far side of the lake gets much less foot traffic - there's less grass,
due to the poorer soil, and the bed of the lake is muddy and not at all as
nice to walk in. But a small stand of four willow trees with long branches
hanging low and swinging in the breeze provides some relief from the sun
during the heat of the day. A pair of small curved benches sit underneath
the trees. The ground rises up sharply towards the northwest end of the
lakeside, and the waterfall that feeds the lake thunders downwards there,
foaming the water and creating a fine mist in the air that distorts the
light.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Lycinea F 17 5'5" Slender, Blonde hair, Blue-green eyes 3s
Rh'mis M 19 5'6" Scrawny, Brown hair, Blue eyes 0s
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Lake Out
>-------------------------------------------< 4D 5M 36T I10, spring dusk >---< Warmer weather is encouraging more folk to be out-of-doors, but today's relatively soggy skies have at least kept most people out of the way. That suits Rhey's purposes just fine, of course; he's claimed one of the curved benches, paying no mind to the light rain that falls - it is, after all, well-shaded by those willow trees. Staring out over the lake, half-obscured, the brownrider's expression is moody, in part, but also merely thoughtful. It'll get dark, soon, but that probably won't bother him, either. "What are you doing here?" Lycinea's voice pierces the silence and pervading gloom, disgusted. She's stopped short some distance away from where Rhey is on the bench and her arms are crossed across her chest, hood of her coat pulled up over her head. It doesn't take a genius to sort out the he's in her brooding spot and she's in obvious need of it, having started the brooding before even reaching the spot. It says something about how focused Rhey is that he fails to notice Lycinea until she's actually there; it's unusual, indeed, for anyone to get the jump on this particular brownrider. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he says in answer, chin lifting as his gaze seeks out the kitchen worker. "There's plenty of room." He doesn't sound especially pleased about the prospect, though; no more than she is, surely. "You might give me leprosy all over again." Lya points out even as she huffs and steps to take the opposite end of the same bench that he's sitting on. That's what he meant, right? That particular bench? "It looks like you're being your usual useless self." Can he really blame her for thinking so after their last run-in, post-storm? "That, coming from you?" There's a barb to Rhey's reply, even if his expression remains impassive, though he does turn himself so that he can face the other direction entirely. Perhaps they can pretend that the other simply isn't here? Except - no, clearly not, because, "As you can see, I still have my nose. As do you." Lycinea isn't one to take that kind of thing without appropriate retaliation and Rhey doesn't look so tough so she's turning and leaning (stupid, stupid) to try to punch his shoulder. (Weakling.) "At least I tried, and I don't even have a stupid dragon." Followed quickly by, "You'd look better without one." "Without a dragon?" It's glib. Rhey doesn't much react to that shoulder punch, though he's not exactly anything more than scrawny; even Lycinea can jolt him. He doesn't answer the rest; instead, he huffs out a breath and stares, resolutely, towards the chilly lake. "A nose, but sure, without a dragon, too. Doesn't seem like to do much with him anyway." Lycinea observes, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at some unfortunate willow branch some distance out. Then she pulls her knees up so she can be a little ball on the end of that bench, scraping the mud of her boots there on its edge. Manners! "What's bugging you, then?" Rhey plainly doesn't actually care about Lycinea's well-being, but now that she's here, he can't seem to leave her alone; maybe it's just fun. "Someone ruin your favourite dress or something?" "Isn't it obvious?" Lycinea answers with a sigh, because really Rhey is totally who she wants to have a heart to heart with. "I'm useless. Why doesn't it bother you that you are?" That seems to be as much genuine question as insult. "And I ruined my only nice dress at turnover, thanks for reminding me." She sticks out her tongue at him because that's the mature thing to do. This actually does make Rhey turn so he can glance at Lycinea; side-on, only, but still - better than nothing. "Because I'm not useless," he says, promptly. "I know what my strengths are; I've been making myself useful since I was a little kid." That this is only a partial truth does not earn a mention. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to make you any less useless." Oh, the irony. A single brow arches at him: really? "Can we get some other opinions on that?" Lya asks. "What are your strengths anyway? Besides making people's flesh rot off their bones." And, "I don't feel sorry for myself. It's just depressing knowing you don't have anything to offer but are still breathing." She dares a glance toward him; anything that seems like pity will probably get him punched again. Rh'mis' shoulders stiffen, sharply. "You have no idea," he says, as he draws himself to his feet. "No idea at all." He shrugs, then. "If you've got nothing to offer, find something. That's what everyone else does." 'Idiot' says his tone, and the scathing glance he offers before he turns to squelch off through the muddiest path possible. Good luck with that Rhey, because Lya brought her mud-tromping boots (they're her regular boots covered in mud). That is to say, she's following him. "Do you ever bother to explain yourself? Or do you just expect people to let you get away with bragging cryptically and stalking off like you know things they don't?" she demands as she squelches along after him. Oh good: being followed. It's just what Rh'mis has always wanted, honestly! "I only explain myself to people who matter," he says, darkly, ignoring Lya as he continues on, wading through mud, climbing over low-hanging tree branches. Whatever it takes, really. "And since I do know things you don't..." As it happens, this is probably how Lya spent her childhood here at the Weyr so she doesn't have much trouble following him, even if she has to pause for just a second because her coat gets caught on a branch. "You're doing wonders for my self-esteem." She doesn't care. "What kinds of things do you know?" "Things," says Rhey, sharply. "I know things. And there's no point in knowing things if you just go and tell other people, is there? There's no power in things that everyone knows. Are you going to leave me alone?" "Are you going to drown me mud?" Lya asks in answer to his question. "Do I need to?" "You might. If you want me to leave you alone." At least Lya's honest. "On the bright side, since I'm useless, no one will miss me." That might be almost a dare, her tone is a little bit on the wry side and it doesn't sound like she takes it too seriously. This time, Rhey stops, turning upon his heel so that he can just stare at Lya. "Why?" For all that she should have expected that question, it seems she didn't. Lycinea stops short, looking at him. "I... don't know." She shrugs her shoulders. "Do you really want me to leave you alone?" She seems to be asking for real this time. Rh'mis runs his fingers through his hair, just... looking at Lycinea. It'd be ideal if, at this point, he changed his mind; if they could start again, and maybe even be friends. But... he's not like that, not really. And so: "Yes. I do. I just want to be left alone." "Why?" Rhey hesitates, opening his mouth, closing it again, and then, finally, coming up with, "Because I'm no good with people, here. Because I don't belong and I-- because I'd rather be alone." "That makes two of us." Lya answers after a moment of consideration. "Though I'd maybe lose the 'here.' And sometimes I don't want to be alone." She shifts, the mud making an unpleasant sound underfoot. "I'll go. But if you ever want to not be alone, you know, beyond your dragon," who presumably is always with him, she shrugs, "you can come and find me. I guess." Would Rhey's company be preferable to being alone even when she doesn't want to be? She might be considering this as she looks at him another moment before turning to start picking back through the branches and mud, back the way they came. She still has a date with that brooding bench. It'd be too much to ask, really, for Rhey to be able to expression himself, at this point; perhaps his grunt is expression enough? Or perhaps not. In either case, he pauses where he is until Lya turns to go, at which point he turns, too; off and away. |
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