Logs:Oops. Accident.
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 5 January, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, N'rov, Leiventh, Hraedhyth, Cadejoth |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Iesaryth has a gift for Vhaeryth. Aishani (Brieli) and N'rov make plans. |
| Where: N'rov's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 9, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
     |
| Between potential plague, egg-stealing, fires, eventual egg-hatching, summer has faded into autumn in that way that's barely noticable; there's a cooler breeze or two and a tint to the leaves, and then suddenly everything is all crisp mornings and impossibly clear blue skies. Beyond several anxious and Healer-terrifying trips to Fort when N'rov was in the infirmary, Aishani hasn't been as present around the other Weyr as she might usually; either busy at Reaches or more inclined to entertain (and distract), or go elsewhere entirely (and both distract and be distracted). But this afternoon just after lunch, there's another sun in the sky, and a tide that washes out to inform the Fortian queens of her presence, an undercurrent for Vhaeryth, all too pleased. Iesaryth has something for him. Not for his, but for /him/. All the bronze's, though maybe he can share if he feels like it. For Vhaeryth! /Well/. « Is it bloody? » At least she can feel the humor underlying that, upped a notch by how it's hardly work for him to extricate himself, but just as well that she didn't drop by a short while ago, during drills. Although perhaps she could have watched them, in their prowess: that could have been something. As it is, his rider's not so far along as all that in the game he and the others were playing, and if N'rov acts as though he doesn't see a brownrider's eyeroll, Vhaeryth does and quite congenially shares... along with his rider's rude gesture back at the man. He'll survive. Shortly thereafter he lands, and shines mirror-sunlight back at her, as though ringing the bell at his own front door. « You will have to come see. » Iesaryth is all sparkly sunshine in her teasing, though it's only dimmed a touch by missing those drills - something neither she, nor her rider have any love for, but she likes to watch them, so would like to watch Vhaeryth more, fast and dark and clever. The very human eyeroll he passes on amuses her, if only because it's so like her Aishani's, so like those Aishani might get for running off to Fort herself. Whatever. They don't get it. And when the bronze does land, the gold is backed up into the weyr to make room for him, though Shani herself is still on the ledge, in her leathers today, standing beside a long roll-type thing in a white bag. They really don't. Get it, that is. Good thing the dragons can abandon... can abandon whom? It doesn't matter, when Vhaeryth already /has/. Look at him instead: how he lands, showily, possibly even cleverly given how he makes use of that space and then winds his neck around. They can fit, like so many jigsaw pieces. /And/ he can look at the if-bloody-not-seeping-through-white toy. While Vhaeryth's arranging things, N'rov hails with a wave, and if removing his helmet reveals the predictable helmet-hair, running a hand through his curls takes care of /that/. It's not even very much more dramatic than it has to be. "Ran the gauntlet?" he asks, dropping down to give his girl a kiss. Grinning. Iesaryth can admire Vhaeryth's landing, even if it's purposefully showy and clever; after all, she missed out while she was off flying around from place to place - but that's elided into a blur of images in favor of her impatience once he's fit himself in and is looking at his long-not-bleeding-not-moving-either gift. « She says if we open it, we might snag it. » Or /tear/. But she thinks they are more careful than /that/. Shani obviously doesn't, but she's not paying attention; she's rather taken with curls she can run her fingers through once N'rov's done, when she's kissing him back. Also grinning. "I wish I could say it was for you, but I thought of it as a reward. Hello." And she'll claim that reward, since he kissed her first. It's only fair. It's not that Vhaeryth doesn't have an eye for those images before they become a blur, or even a moment afterward. It's that he's leaning towards that bag, which means towards their riders, N'rov already moving to intercept. If he can, with his arm around Aishani. "Hold on, you." By the exasperation in his tone, 'you' is Vhaeryth. But it's amused, indulgent exasperation all the same, and that isn't so unfamiliar for the other two. "Anywhere interesting?" Not for Vhaeryth, this time. And on behalf of the bronze, just as he aims to start opening, "I'm to do this /carefully/." Iesaryth's destinations seem to be decidedly Hall-like in similarity of building if not terrain, but her interest isn't so much in sharpening the images, but in talons heading for the roll - though /she/ thinks they /could/ be careful, she still snakes a tail out to get in the way, especially with N'rov's protest. Aishani will come along, amused, filling in the blanks her dragon won't. "I stopped by the Halls in the area. Pass on news, have a chat, be seen. Thrilling." Her nose wrinkles to show just how thrilling it is. "And /you/ don't need to be careful. /They/ do." The reason becomes apparent soon enough - it looks suspiciously like a giant, rolled-up rug. Perhaps brightly colored and knotted, maybe big enough for a bronze dragon when unrolled. "Did they try to ply you with their wares?" N'rov has to ask, though his focus is still on his dragon, who's had to settle with a low exhalation that suspiciously resembles /Now/. "Or did they try to streer you away from their best... well. Clearly, if they did, they didn't succeed." Though there's 'best' and there's the /best/ that may never be in his price range, that he may rarely have ever /seen/... but such gradations may be, at the moment, beyond him. There's a silent intake of /interest/ from Vhaeryth, a lower, possessive sound, and his rider's laughing even as he runs his hand over what he can feel so that his dragon can feel it too. "You /two/. This is amazing." He leans over to thank Shani with quiet, ear-tickly words, then adds, "Let's drag it inside, see if we can get it open the rest of the way. /No/, Vhaeryth, let us get it undone first, then you can romp all you want." Though he eyes Aishani first, right before hurrying in to clear stray blankets and furs and so forth off the couch in question: /will/ it snag? Idly, "The weavers, a little." Shani's lips begin to quirk up in a little smile as she admits, "The one I took your ribbon to... she has /ideas/." There's a flicker of a wicked little glance for N'rov, sidelong - should she elaborate? - but, "This wasn't from today, though. This, she'd dig out of my head every once in awhile and start in again, 'Vhaeryth should have a rug. He didn't get anything. We have to go get a--'." And she'd impersonate more, but she's smiling at the words in her ear, the bronze's possessiveness, the burst of sun-on-waves shine from her lifemate, all her customary darkness chased away. To Vhaeryth; "You'd like it more unrolled, really." As for his rider's look, she shrugs, unconcerned. "It's his." If the Weaver only knew. "And why wouldn't she, with you around," N'rov gives her wicked for wicked back. No doubt it's in contemplating the weaver that he misses the transition of 'she', has to backtrack a moment before just... well, just throwing his head back and laughing some more, openly and freely, getting a glimpse of Iesaryth and laughing all over again. "Priceless. He's complimentary," as though she needs that relayed. And yes, Vhaeryth very much would like it unrolled. And then he'd like to roll /on/ it. And if N'rov had other plans, well, he'll just have to suffer. The dragon waits, at least, for his rider to accommodate him by freeing up the space, all the work needed to tug the rug free and set it out, to take off Vhaeryth's straps /and/ hang them up, and then. /Then/ the bronze can ensconce himself, proud as any Lord in his great chair. "Should I stop back in, on my way home? It's not quite what I was thinking for a turnday gift, but..." Aishani will forbear. And maybe just shower N'rov in gifts anyway, since she can. She can't /stop/ smiling, especially at the laughter - and few gold dragons ever have seemed more pleased with themselves (hatchings aside) than Iesaryth. Right, /her/ doing. Not her rider's. Even so, her rider can be prevailed upon to help with the dragging and unrolling, revealing a very large rug in warm bright autumn colors that seem to look well against Vhaeryth's hide - /once/ all is done and he's settled. As Shani steps back to look, arms crossed, it's Iesaryth that has to say, « It is not the one in the cave you found. » Whenever /that/ was. « But is is nice. » « Very. » This, while N'rov's stepped to admire it and him, and through him, she might sense his rider's appreciation too. Though there's also a moment of silence after which the bronze inquires more neutrally, « Have you tried it? » Meanwhile, the bronze's rider finally thinks to add to hers, "I suspect I'll have to trust your judgment. Unless you invite me along." He rolls his shoulders. "I shouldn't ask how much that set you back, either. It's impressive." « I would not try your rug. » Iesaryth is not affronted by the question, it simply is as it is; though the tail that blocked before might sneak now to test out the softness of the fibers. She might admire Vhaeryth too, though he hardly needs her to admit it. And maybe his rider /shouldn't/ ask what Aishani spends, but her expression gives nothing away - and she does have to point out, as she unfolds arms to slide one around his waist, "I'm an excellent negotiator. And you're invited anywhere with me, unless you like surprises." There's a beat before she shrugs easily. "She doesn't ask for all that much." The polite, cool tones of Leiventh can be heard moments after he and Cadejoth appear above the Weyr; the Monacoan can be heard -- for those listening closely -- announcing himself to the watchdragon, before following the other bronze down to a landing. (Leiventh to all High Reaches dragons) To all High Reaches dragons, Hraedhyth's fire burns hot, a beacon to be used by her people, a guiding warmth to bring them back Home. Oh. Leiventh is welcome to some of it, too. She supposes. Polite but crisp, with a borrowed note of a sea breeze, she welcomes both bronzes back before going about her business. All at once Vhaeryth /relaxes/, less overt than something about how all but the tiniest muscles ease up, though it's not as though he'd have /seemed/ tense, before. Right answer! Though he does eye that tail of hers... but lets that slide. For now. It's only fitting, after all. « Perhaps later, » he allows generously, and moves to rub himself up against it, like he's marking the thing. "Negotiator, hm? Now this I /have/ to see, sometime. Maybe if it's a surprise for someone else," he teases, and tugs her towards the inner weyr where there are actual places to sit and such. And if she doesn't specify amounts, well, he still doesn't ask. Instead, "What else has she asked for? And was it as noisy in your head?" Is that an apology in the edges of Cadejoth's touch? He's alive in a way he hasn't been, so much, these days. It's a rattle and a shake of chains, and a spark of light that dances around them. Home. And happy. (Cadejoth to all High Reaches dragons) For now. Iesaryth tries not to be obviously amused by generosity, or need to rub up all over /his/ rug. But it is /Vhaeryth's/, that was the purpose of the thing after all, so she settles to watch the process of owning the thing, content with that alone. Bright tail curled around her. Later, or even later. She can wait. It's Shani that's likewise eager to get inside, grinning up at N'rov. "/Sometimes/ I surprise other people. Not that often, but I'll keep it in mind. And otherwise, she mostly asks for things for herself. Brushes, and things like that." As for noisy, she shudders a touch. "When she 'remembered'? More persistent, but equally annoying." It /is/ Vhaeryth's. Vhaeryth's, Vhaeryth's, Vhaeryth's. And his reaction doesn't even seem to be exaggerated to entertain her... or, at least, not just to entertain her. N'rov doesn't appear to be listening too closely, though he can't seem to get rid of the smile that goes all the way up to his eyes. "Do the names of the 'other people' begin with 'A'?" He drops a kiss on her forehead, pulls out a seat for her before taking his own. No, /starting/ to take his own: he leans on the table instead, in range. "Brushes. I'll have to keep in mind. At least she doesn't have to worry about frizzing," he further teases, then slides a glance Vhaeryth's way. "He's been doing better, anyway. The weyrlings seem to be fine, I guess. Every once in awhile I peek at them, trying to figure out which parts are more like Isyath, more like Adiulth, but she's his dam anyway so maybe it should be 'which parts are like Riuscyth.'" The more possessive Vhaeryth is, the more Iesaryth seems pleased with herself; as with all of the best ideas, it was hers. Her own dark eyes bright, smile lingering on her lips, Aishani will take the seat N'rov pulls out for her, but gives a low sound of protest after the kiss, reaching out to catch his arm; keep him in that lean, in range. "One other person," she says, loftily, as if there's so many other people she'd bother even giving gifts to in the first place. 'Frizzing' gets a wrinkle of her nose, but she still gives a little tug on his arm, like she'd have him in her lap for once. "I'm glad /he's/ doing better. Are you?" He /looks/ fine, but she's allowed to worry. As for the weyrlings, "They all seem so themselves, sometimes, it's hard to tell." She doesn't ask about the others, the ones gone missing. It's just as well Vhaeryth isn't growling territorially. Yet. But if he does, it'll all be Iesaryth's fault! And, fine, it's not so difficult to persuade his rider to sit on her rider's lap, though it's more like straddling, so she has a nice view of his chest. And chin, which did get shaved this morning, for the record: there's a small nick to prove it. "You can check for bruises, healer, ma'am." He tucks his chin in, then, so she can see better, and he doesn't talk about the ones going missing, either. "What do you think Iesaryth gets, from hers? Even though, /yes/," this might be more for Vhaeryth than Aishani, or maybe it's for Iesaryth in a roundabout way, "she's herself." If Iesaryth's claiming the idea, it may well be all her fault. And checking for bruises, /there's/ an idea. After a kiss for his wounded chin, Shani runs slender hands up N'rov's chest as if she's been thinking about that all morning, or longer. "Mmm. Is this where I say that you feel pretty good to me, or demand closer examination?" To distract to the things they're not talking about, that she hasn't asked after his Weyrleader either, she leans in for a kiss and stays close after, lips quirking for that last. Wryly, "She might not be herself for much longer. But... I don't know them as well, Leiventh and Zaisavyth. Maybe I'd rather think she /is/ herself." N'rov might have said yes. It's hard to tell, what with the kissing and all. He might still be a little dazed when he comes up for air, given the low surprise in, "Not herself?" Then, "Of course she's herself. Even if she /looked/ like a dup," and he gets perceptibly dragon-nudged out of finishing that thought, and laughs. "It's just, I don't know, borrowed bits. Like I have my father's profile, they say. We all do, even my sister, poor girl. Which reminds me, I don't think I ever told you what he said about the Turn's end present... /but/, I should let you get to talk, too." Perhaps a little breathy herself, more so than intended, Aishani doesn't love being a buzzkill and all from the way she catches her lower lip between her teeth briefly before, "Hraedhyth will turn two soon. And she's not long after. So." There's a glance back at Iesaryth, who is supremely unbothered by being the subject of conversation, now or later. "She's the same sort of lines as her sire. It's funny. Everyone always said I looked more like my mother." It's the thought and mention both of family that has her catch up, blink at N'rov a few times bemusedly. "Your father? Said something? About my present? You didn't tell him that I didn't get you anything." Because that's the important part of the story. So. Aishani looks, N'rov looks, though his gaze has to track back to Vhaeryth, who's thought better of kneading his paws actually /on/ the rug: instead, they're just off, where his claws can tick against the stone instead. N'rov does buy time by answering, "He doesn't get to hear about your presents, or non-presents, no," and there's a brief smirk there. "The hat, the one I had trimmed with some of the spare fur from that second Southern feline? That one, and it's a safe bet he'll never get one from anyone else. I'm told he's been wearing it whenever it's not hot enough to sweat." Still, though he's not actually /asking/, he does lean to kiss her again. Twice. "Two, you say." A third time, for good luck. "It's hard to believe it's been that long." There's a short-lived smirk of her own; but still, with another girlish wrinkle of her nose, "If that's the truth, it's sweet - but doesn't say much for how it might end up smelling. I'd like that, though. To know that I /knew/ I'd done something right." Shani will chance a look up at N'rov, meet his grey eyes briefly with her dark - maybe that's something she understands, can understand through him if she never really will herself. And when he kisses her, she kisses back, more intent, fervent each time. Leaning in to rest her head on his chest, "I know. Longer than I think. Shorter than it feels, sometimes." Closing her eyes, she lets out a long breath before, "I still want to try to /go/. And I still want you to come with us." There's still a chance to back out, too - but that goes unvoiced. "For once." It might come out a little more bitter than N'rov means it to, and there's wryness in his glance that follows it up: sorry. For her father, and everything. He wraps her arms around her in return, keeps her close, his feet still braced so she won't have to suffer his full weight. "Tell me about the plan. Where do we go? I'd speculate, somewhere that has beasts, somewhere in the wilds... but I'm guessing you might know where you want already. Somewhere you can go in your sleep." Or his. In a whisper, "It might have been 'for once'. At least it's /once/." Shani doesn't push that point often, or at all really - but it's one to which she has a right. Even if /her/ glance up to him is likewise apologetic; she's sorry too, she /knows/. With a sigh, "I have a few ideas, a few places /we've/ been that no one else is likely to go to. I can't say not likely to know about or pass by, but I suppose that's as good as it gets." Tightening her own hold on him, she murmurs, "Then it depends. If it looks like there's some sort of /warning/, maybe we just get some time off and go away, and-- oops, accident. A little close to Ysavaeth's plan, perhaps. Otherwise - we wait for the last minute." "At least it's once," N'rov agrees, under his breath, still audible enough for /her/. His arms tighten about her, unconsciously at first, deliberately afterward. "I don't like last minute, don't like the idea of anything maybe happening to you. Maybe we can practice. Maybe we should. I like the idea of time off... I don't know if /I/ can get it, but I can try. Not that it would be suspicious at all," this with a brief laugh. "But then, who could blame me. Or /you/, of course," this last more clearly teasing, more carefully light. "Because I'm such a catch. Did I show you my gitar, last time? Everyone loves a harper." As if she's so easygoing herself, softly, "You're too hard on yourself." That quiet, because Shani knows no matter how many times she says it, no matter how many times anyone does, it won't matter. But she still lifts herself up enough to kiss him, agreeing, "I don't like the idea of anything happening to you, either. If only for the Healers' sanity. But we can practice, here and there, and maybe she'll give me a hint before anyone else notices." Because no, not at /all/ obvious. "/Maybe/ we can get away with it this time, before there's signs to look for. And don't--" The unfinished sentence is clear in her expression, somewhere between frustrated and a little sad before she unwinds herself only to wrap herself around his neck, fingers in his curls. Low, "You did. And I still wouldn't trade you for fifty harpers. How many times do I have to tell you I want you before you believe there's something to want?" And she knows him well enough that she's right, he shrugs it off, though she's also wrong, it does matter. "Mm. We definitely want our healers to be sane, yes. I'd definitely count that as a priority." But that's all, because he's got Aishani continuing to talk to him, and yeah, maybe he holds his breath a moment longer at her words. Or maybe it's her grip on his hair! "I don't think you'll trade me for fifty harpers," he assures her, gray eyes intent, not protesting her hold. "Or even twenty-five. I... Shani, it's not like I think there's nothing to want, it's not like I go around whinging, 'Oh no, whatever does she see in me! I bet she'll dump me when she wises up!' I know what I do, what I've done. What we've done, anyway, Vhaeryth and me. But I'm talking about what the rest of the world sees. Even E'ten. Some people know, though. My oldest brother, mostly anyway, a couple of others. And you." Fingers still playing through his hair, looking up, "I think some people might see more than you give them credit for. And N'rov, some people see what they /want/ to, for whatever reason, for reasons that have /nothing/ to do with you. You haven't done anything awful." Shani's definition of 'awful' is a little further along than most people's, granted - but she may have a point. "If you want them to know... they will. I just wish it didn't make you..." A beat. "You're too hard on yourself," she says again. "I do the same thing. I just never say anything." There's a faint smile before, with a brush of lips, "You know, if you're not getting him off that rug anytime soon..." Her next kiss is more suggestive; it's in the middle of the afternoon, but that's never stopped anyone before. "Fine, maybe more than that," N'rov allows to be 'dragged' out of him. "But like I said, I really don't spend a lot of time thinking about it, it's just... times. /But/ it's sounding like I should give you some of that same advice right back, yeah?" He's got such speculative brows right then, and that smile, right before he goes about taking up that /suggestion/. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Mon, 07 Jan 2013 01:04:53 GMT.
<
Awww! Both pairs were just too cute in this. <3 Also- for shame! Schemey schemes! ;)
Leave A Comment