Logs:Darning Socks
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| RL Date: 22 January, 2014 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Solith, Telavi |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Rasavyth and Solith have two different conversations simultaneously while their riders darn socks. |
| Where: View to a Kill Weyr (Telavi's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 11, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'dalis/Mentions, Quielle/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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| View To A Kill Weyr, High Reaches Weyr It's a step up from the ledge and its heavy curtain into the elegant, dark-flecked weyr. In the depths of the cavern, a short spiral staircase rises even further, ending abruptly in an alcove that extends over the dragon couch; bright, colorful scarves adorn its iron railing like so much festive fringe. To one side beyond the balcony, past the hooks that keep straps and stray gear contained above a small press for shoes, three more curved steps rise high enough to double as additional seating before they reach the archway to the inner weyr. Past a faded tapestry, the crescent-shaped room is furnished with more ironwork and heavy wood that comprise a large hearth and an equally impressive sleigh bed, the latter with a colorful coverlet atop of all its furs. Standing at the foot of the bed, a huge, intricately carved armoire faces outward and creates a sort of alcove. Though there's certainly room for more furniture beyond the comfortable, curvilinear couches that sit before the hearth, even the traditional table and side chairs are missing in favor of space. Despite the dark elegance of most of the furnishings, the bones of the weyr are quirky, charming like the ledge-cluster outside: each room slightly smaller than average, their heights staggered, growing stuffy in the summer while in winter remaining cozy and warm no matter how cold it gets outside.
It's when Rasavyth is suddenly there, there in the sky above High Reaches Weyr and not distant that his oozy tendrils and their mimicked breeze reaches for Solith's mind. « Hello, my dear Solith, » Perhaps he's especially pleased with himself, or with her, or with them both today, because the touch is warm and cheerful. « My K'zin wishes to know if your Telavi has time to darn his socks just now? He says there is a terrible hole in one of them and is in great need of her services. » The undertones aren't so innocent, but that only heightens Rasavyth's private amusement, the one that's only just on the edge of his touch hand in hand with that wrongness that is simply a part of him. It's not long before the bronze is passing by her tricky ledge and making to circle until he receives an answer. Solith must be underinformed, for she is impressed by that urgency and the bronze's cheer despite it all. « I will ask! » She doesn't so much absent herself from their own conversation as refocus, and moments later there she is again, a touch perplexed. « She says... that it is a great pity about his trouble with the sock, and that he's right, it's very important to get it darned sooner over later before it gets worse. » Though why her rider is so entertained by this, she does not know, nor-- for Quielle and Telavi are hastily talking, Telavi blushing, Quielle teasing as she grabs her jacket and says something about rubbing some more buckles later-- why Nhidanth's rider cannot stay to help. Apparently Nhidanth's did too much darning the other day and doesn't want to be reminded, or something like that; the important thing, though, is that the ledge will be cleared off very soon! and everyone, except presumably the sock, is happy. Telavi even peeks out of their weyr to make sure of it. Once the ledge is clear, Rasavyth angles to land. He's familiar enough that with as focused as he is just now, he manages the landing on the first pass, letting K'zin swing down out of the straps before he ambles toward the entrance to snake his head in toward Solith and croon his hello now that he's here in the flesh. « You know, my dear Solith, you really are a marvelous green. » While compliments aren't particularly foreign, they don't usually come so plainly from the bronze or with such obvious adoration. He means it. Rasavyth's head is the second to arrive because K'zin did not walk when he got out of the straps, but instead, came straight through, practically running right into the blonde, which seemed to work out when the steadying hand he'd reached for her ended up wrapping around her waist and pressing her against the wall for lips to hungrily meet lips. He must be expressing his excitement over soon-to-be-repaired socks and Telavi's willingness to accommodate him just then. It must also count as hello because no words are offered; that would require his lips to be free for speaking. Solith's eyes swirl into blue, pleased if a touch disconcerted; she doesn't ask why, but does-- well, her croon in reply carries added, sunlit warmth and she also can't help but wiggle just a bit, more a shift of her haunches and a ripple of her wings than anything. « Do you have enough room? » may not be on topic but it's somewhere between hopeful and helpful in a hostess-y sort of way. The green tilts her head to peer over at the humans, now, which could be disconcerting but it's not as though Telavi's bothering to look at her, not when she's all eyes for K'zin and quite a bit more, too; there's not even a breath of protest for how her skirt's getting rumpled up. Who knew that sock repair could be such an inspiring prospect? Not Solith. She keeps looking, as though that would tell her whether the sock in question was being worn or hidden away in a pocket without her having to ask. « Oh, quite. » Rasavyth's amusement ripples as he settles just where he is, tail twitching outside on the ledge. « How are you finding your job now that the little ones are nearly full-grown? » Well, not really nearly, but relative to where they started... much closer! Tela might not notice, but there's a quiet murmur from K'zin about an audience before he's using the leverage he's already gotten to lift her up and carry her. In an ideal world, her legs will wrap and he won't have to struggle with her the whole way, but struggle he will, if he has to, until they're out of sight. All this seems to only heighten Rasavyths amusement. « It's the left one. » He adds drolly. In case Solith didn't figure it out by the time her quandry's out of sight. « Good! » is, of course, bright, and possibly reassured. While K'zin's carrying her rider off-- Tela does peek back over his shoulder, blue eyes wide when they find her dragon and soon followed by her laugh-- Solith blinks lid-after-lid blinks back at her. Isn't it nice to live in such an ideal world? Well, ideal for some people. « He's not limping, » she tells Rasavyth. « That's good, too. And it is kind of him to carry her, but then I suppose she is doing him a service. » Where was she? « We're flying ever so many more places, now, instead of it being here and here and even more here. Have you flown anywhere you particularly liked, lately? » Not that she dislikes High Reaches, far from it, but sometimes even a dragon girl wants to travel. « She is. I've often suggested my K'zin should pay her for her time, since she could, as easily, be servicing someone else, but he won't hear of it. » Alas. Wouldn't Telavi like some more pocket marks? « If she does her job right, he should not have cause to limp. » Be limp? Well, it's innocent enough the way that it is said. « It sounds as though things are becoming very adventurous for you. » His tenor is approving, and he shifts lazily, so he can find something for his head to rest against. « I've just come from a delightful flight around the mountains near Fort Weyr. » In that thought, too, comes that a green rose, but his flight was not in pursuit of her. Telavi does like marks; Solith knows this. « She is good at what she does, » muses the green dragon. Such a deserving rider she has. « Everyone she helps says so, » or if they don't, that's one way to make her not want to help them again! More diffidently, because this could be an awkward question, « Does he not have a very large stash of marks? Many men don't. » Perhaps his rider happens to be lacking in that area, though the question's more from reasoning than from memory; long-past expenditures on a certain party must be out of sight, out of mind. Perhaps she should feel bad for his rider. Indulgently, she stretches out a foreleg, her paw extending toward one side of Rasavyth's chin. « Have you? I don't believe we have taken them so far, but soon, surely. What was it like? » « I'm sure they do. » It amuses Rasavyth for private reasons, but perhaps it can be distracted from by saying, « My K'zin certainly thinks so. » More amusement, « No, no, my K'zin is perfectly affluent. He is a businessman, after all. And what self-respecting businessman would be without his marks. » The sensation of a smile haunts his next words. « Perhaps my K'zin is simply cheap. Perhaps he doesn't see the true value of the services your Telavi performs for him. I think it's quite rude, really. But... » There's a sense of helplessness next. Riders, what's a dragon to do? « I can do better than tell you. Why don't I show you? Close your eyes. » The bronze recommends as he begins to order his thoughts. Even as he does, he shifts his muzzle to lay it against the green's paw. That's what it was there for, right? How glad is Solith to know that Rasavyth's rider is so perceptive, and how appreciative she is of Rasavyth himself for sharing! Oh, she might be interested in this 'businessman' idea, she might be quietly unnerved by the thought of his rider liking but not after all valuing her rider's darning skills-- and rudely so at that!-- but, « Oh, yes, please! » Storytime. Solith does close her eyes, though at first it's just her first two sets of lids before, thinking better of it, she drops the rest into place. The tip of her tail wiggles, her paw curls even more comfortably against the bronze's cheek. She's good to go, through the projected twists and turns, until the story-- and possibly the sock-- is done. It's amazing how storytime begins so vividly to capture Solith's attention so that other sensations she might be able to pick up on through her rider might be missed entirely. Amazing how the story goes on and interestingly on until finally, it comes to a close, timed so well with other curtains drop. « You really should go see it with your own eyes sometime. I imagine the weyrlings would like to, too. » He ends the retelling as the vivid images fade into a haze and then into oozy reflected sunshine and warm winds. « Was Nhidanth's Quielle very upset by our interruption, do you think? » « I will, » Solith agrees, she's confident of that! « The mountains look softer there, not like ours, » she does like theirs best, of course she would, « and-- » Nhidanth's? Oh, Nhidanth's. If the sunlight of her thoughts grows clouded, it's only by the most gossamer of veils, and soon even that passes. « No, no. » Not unless Nhidanth is smoothing the waters, perhaps even concealing it from her for reasons of his own. Although if Telavi also hadn't noticed... « She understands that these things happen, » Solith assures briskly, her eyes still shut but for the one that now peeks open just a bit. « Perhaps she has less experience with socks, however, and so doesn't understand quite how important the matter is.... though really, she should be an expert by now. » Doesn't Nhidanth's wear socks nearly every single day? « Ours are best. » Rasavyth's agreement is heart-felt. Everything 'Reaches is better. Except... well, no, he won't think on that just now. « One would think Nhidanth's Quielle would be an expert by now. After all, I hear Nhidanth's has even made her own socks. » Whole new ones. It amuses him, but it is impressive. « As long as she wasn't overly upset. I shouldn't much enjoy doing extra dawn sweeps. Especially since we are still endeavoring to be extra good since I accidentally, » Although the word is fragile as a dried leaf, deadened and easily destroyed by a solid wind, « chased Elaruth when she rose some sevens ago. » Technically speaking, he doesn't remember doing so. But it's been a memory revisited through K'zin many a time, sometimes for study and sometimes because it's so much the reason for why they do what they do just now that he must remind himself of its importance. « Has she? » Well! « Telavi has made her own socks. » If not quite like Nhidanth's rider's... « Only she would rather other people do it for her, and in return she makes something else for them, that is not socks, » Solith is quite happy to expound. « I do not see why you should have to do such extras even if she were upset. It is not as though she is your wingsecond, » much less wingleader, though that would be even more difficult to comprehend for one from their weyrling class. « It is also not as though she has any right to stay when we, » because it is 'we' now, « do not wish it. » So there. Though a touch of merriment reenters her question, teasing a very much living leaf skyward to fly-- her leaves don't have to fall and shrivel up once away from their source-- « Is it very difficult to be good, Rasavyth? Extra good? » « Has she. » It's not a question, it's a deeply amused purr. « Perhaps sometime you should ask her if she would like to make socks with my K'zin. It might make for an interesting conversation. » And far be it for Rasavyth to stand in the way of what could be so very interesting, even if he doesn't end up getting to listen in. And even if it means they have to change the booty call code, again. « We would not have to, except that Nhidanth's Quielle is my K'zin's friend, » Sort of. Sometimes. When he's on again with Tela, usually, or at least when she's not giving him a hard time about things when they're off again. And even then, it's more like 'friends' than friends. But these things aren't of consequence just now. « It is not so difficult as it is time consuming, but it won't need to last. Just long enough for us to remind our wing that we are good riders. » « I suppose? » Solith is more likely to, it's true, if Rasavyth suggests such a thing in such a voice. But, « Making socks is not as easy as it looks when someone is good at making socks, » she lets the bronze know with secondhand authority that she's made her own. « I did not know he knows how to make socks even a little. If he does not, perhaps he should start with a scarf. » The rest of what Rasavyth makes sense to her; « I hope they notice soon, then. I think they will. It is a reminding-by-doing and not a reminding-by-telling. » Or whining, not to refer to certain weyrlings or anything. « Mm, » Rasavyth's noise isn't challenging, exactly. « Do you suppose people ever accidentally make socks when they mean to be making something else? Like a scarf? » There's a thoughtful pause. « Although, I suppose your Telavi and my K'zin could practice making socks until they perfected the art. Something tells me they would enjoy practicing more than they would like actually making socks together. Darning is one thing, making whole new socks is something else. And truly, I don't think my K'zin wants to make any socks of his own. » This last has a extra hints of amusement. « Doing is always best, to prove a point. Words only go so far. » The bronze agrees, shifting his head a little against her paw, to scratch an itch on his nose. With her paw. « Not very good socks, » Solith is pretty sure about that too. « Socks are complicated. Telavi does not like socks that are too big or too small or too faded or blotchy, either. » The laundry may not mean to, and certainly Telavi's made the sort of friends that make such episodes less likely, but occasionally it does cruel, cruel things to knitwear. « Making new socks does sound like more work, » she agrees. « He should not have to make socks if he does not want to. I can understand that it is good to know how, but especially since he is not good at it yet, the experts can do it faster and he can trade. » Similarly, they would not send weyrlings on their own to ride sweeps, not yet. The paw maneuver gets a bemused look from her, but she hardly minds, taking the opportunity to flex it a little so it doesn't fall asleep-- but not to claw his nose, or even risk it. « Are the others in your wing good riders, do you think? » Good riders-and-dragons. « No, I wouldn't imagine she does. When Telavi makes socks, I'm sure she'd prefer them be perfect. » Rasavyth is amused by this, « Though I suspect that is much the same as anyone. » Because, really, who wants imperfect socks? Especially socks that are too big, or too small, or too blotchy. Of the trading for socks, he has only a feeling of amusement and agreement. K'zin could trade, could certainly let those with more experience and most importantly who want to make socks, make the socks. Rasavyth doesn't share that K'zin probably wants socks that someone else made about as much as he wants socks of his own, which is not at all. K'zin probably prefers to go barefoot. But this gets too complicated within the confines of the charade, so it's something he keeps for his own private amusement. He makes note that when he shares with K'zin the memory of this conversation (and he will share it), to make sure his private notes get on the official record as well, for future reference, and not anything to do with utterly mortifying his lifemate (which will also go on the official record when it inevitably occurs). Rasavyth does share appreciation for the lack of clawing at his nose; he's not interested in being pierced in the way some humans are given to. But back to Taiga. « Many are, and those that are not have been what they are for many, many turns and are not expected to be otherwise. We are still establishing ourselves. It will take quite a long time yet, just as it shall take you and your Telavi time to establish yourselves and feel comfortable as weyrlingmasters. » Assistants. Whichever. There's a difference, but he glosses it over with ooze. « She would, » Solith will not disagree; in fact, there's a very loyal air to it. If Telavi wants 'just right' socks, far be it from Solith to deny her. « It is good, » she does say, « that some humans have small feet for small socks and some have big feet for big socks. » But blotchiness, alas, pretty much no one likes. It's reputed that if blotchy socks go in the wash with non-blotchy socks, the non-blotchy socks get blotches. Contagious. It's even reputed that occasionally such things can cause an itch. Taiga, however, is much more interesting. Even though there's a windy sigh from Solith about that long time. Many things take a long time, far too long; surely Solith doesn't need to say that in so many words to convey the sentiment. « We may not stay weyrlingmasters, » she admits. « If there are no weyrlings, what are we to do then? This while weyrlings join your Taiga, » sooner or later, « and then they become the newest of the new. » « No one likes to itch. » This much Rasavyth can say with fervent certainty. « Might you not? Do you not enjoy being weyrlingmasters? Do you wish to be wingriders again? Surely there are things you and your Telavi and Olveraeth and his Quinlys can do in the meantime. » Like darning socks. The suggestion is whispered. But perhaps there's enough about socks because he's distracted by the on-going discussion that he can only 'hear', but not really 'hear.' « Does your Telavi share with you what she does in her bed? » He's simply curious. Then it's settled: no itchy socks for any of them. « I do enjoy it, » most of the time. « Olveraeth is wonderful, » Solith adds admiringly, « but it is not all up to me, nor even to him. I would not wish to sit around while Telavi... washes the barracks, » or darns, « or whatever it is that they do. » Or so she may think, anyway, with the weather as it is; when it's summertime again, that might be another story, even with such a shorter time for stars. The green yawns now, tail-tip flicking slightly. « Sometimes she talks to me when she can't sleep, or when I can't. » Although perhaps Telavi is grouchier when it comes to the latter. But then Solith thinks to ask, « Am I missing something, are you hearing something I should know? » Or would want to, for Solith can be as curious as her rider. « Of course he is. » If Rasavyth is sarcastic about the blue, it's impossible to tell. He seems quite sincere. « You should ask what there is to do when there are no more weyrlings to teach. Olveraeth has had no weyrlings before, he would know. » If he remembers. But even if he doesn't, Rasavyth feels that this is the kind of information Quinlys would remind her lifemate about. The bronze has to consider the last question as he listens to what she cannot evidently hear. « I suspect you would be bored. My K'zin is babbling on about the things that happen after flights. It's no more or less interesting after flights than it is any other time. » Which isn't to say that he doesn't take a far too keen interest in those aspects of his rider's life... Likely it doesn't even enter Solith's mind to question that sincerity; why would anyone not have their own high opinion of Olveraeth, after all, at least when he's not telling them what to do-- or, more to the point, what not to do. No flaming everything in sight, for example, even she might unwillingly admit might be a buzzkill. « I will ask! » Solith decides agreeably. « Or perhaps Telavi should, » and in a different relationship, that would be because Telavi is Solith's minion. Alas. As it is, she's diffident and agrees wordlessly that indeed, she might be bored; it's good that Rasavyth let her know so she wouldn't bother Tela without need. After a moment, « She tells me to tell her what dragons I like to fly with, when I think of it, though it is too early to hope for a wing and she is not sure that it will help. » Given last time.« Do you fit in Taiga? » Does Taiga fit him? Rasavyth leaves the matter of Olveraeth be, though there's silent agreement that when the blue is telling a dragon what not to do, it's rather off-putting. It's the rest that he's giving real thought to. The matter of wings. « Taiga suits for now. Cadejoth's K'del intimated there may be possibilities for us within that wing. » And he hasn't forgotten, even if he largely suspects it to have been a 'motivation to play nice with the other kids' ploy. « But surely, Solith, if you spoke with Cadejoth once you've decided with whom you'd like to fly, you could use your feminine wiles to aid your Telavi's case. I'm sure it would please her to have her desires realized. And how could Cadejoth resist you if you didn't want him to? You are a marvelous green, after all. » And perhaps the bronze is enjoying the idea of sweet Solith attempting to use wiles on anyone a little too funny, but he hides it well. Of all the things that have ever been suggested to Solith that she do, using her alleged wiles must be really, really low on the list. Still, « Possibilities? » She's interested: perhaps in the obvious, perhaps with the thought that there might be more than the obvious. As for Cadejoth, her thoughts get even sunnier again, pleased, her paws reflexively curling and uncurling. She may be at a loss about those wiles, but, « I should ask him, you're right. He'd know what to do. Perhaps we might fly, even, somewhere where there is sun, » real sun, warm glorious golden sun instead of the gray chill they have here. Solith's wistful at the very thought. Then, more brightly, « Would you like to come with us? » Invited to be a vtol on that wall? « Certainly. » Rasavyth purrs his acceptance. As for possibilities, « Cadejoth's K'del pointed out to my K'zin that he, himself, would not be wingsecond of Taiga forever, » Indeed, his position in Taiga is... not as it was before he accepted the mantel of Acting Weyrleader. « Mostly, I think Cadejoth's K'del wanted us to be in his wing that they might continue to mold us. » Something about that amuses, Rasavyth, but that's before he gets distracted by something heard within the weyr. « So your Telavi truly doesn't mind when my K'zin gets his socks darned by others? » It might be in that moment that he forgets Solith isn't in on the secret; but since this is Rasavyth, it's more likely he's decided the topic still holds amusement for him since the developments in pillow talk. « Oh. » Solith pauses, hesitant, curious. « Does that mean that you... » the two of them, the pair, « might be wingsecond then? Or that you might care for it more? » Less would-be molding? Darning is not molding, at least how Solith knows it; she's more bewildered by the reappearance of socks, and apologetically lets him know that she really needs to move her paw, giving at least a moment before she actually does. Flexing her talons, relaxing as long-stilled muscle moves, « I do not know why she would not. If they prove to be good, they might darn her socks also. » Time-saving measures for all! « I don't suspect we will anytime soon, » Rasavyth's response is given softly. « Cadejoth's K'del still sees us as too young. But he offering the possibility helps us avoid trouble. » The bronze doesn't find this to be the case, but the older pair can think what they like. « We might like it better. Or we might not. » Though he suspects that at least he would like it better. « Maybe you ought to suggest she have her socks darned by some of the people who darn K'zin's socks. » Since it would be so time-saving. He's amused again, and watching the talons flex. Then slowly, his head starts to withdraw and he shifts around, letting his tail, instead, poke through toward the green. That Solith can understand, or thinks she does; and for if, no, when the time should come, « You would find out. » Then, « Only if they are good. A bad darning is not a good darning, » that much she's learned, and after that he's distracted her very well, the adult green as playful as one of the less bloodthirsty weyrlings as she moves to bat with claws retracted: look, a tail, and it might as well be shiny. |
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