Logs:Fate's a...
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| RL Date: 11 June, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Oliwer |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Oliwer runs into H'vier. And then his fist. |
| Where: Healer Hall, Fort Hold |
| When: Day 15, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tayte/Mentions, Reniler/Mentions, Laneri/Mentions |
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| H'vier came to Healer Hall with a delivery that must be damned important for Iceberg's Wingsecond to be bothering with personally. Especially since he's looking for a very particular person to hand it off to. It's Oliwer he finds in the person's office at the end of a trail looking for one Master Reniler, though. For a pair of men who both live in High Reaches Weyr, it can only be fate that has them running into each other so far from home. Apparently fate really is a bitch. "I'm sorry, sir," says Oliwer as he rounds the desk to approach the bronzerider, eyeing the package for only a moment. "Master Reniler isn't well at the moment. I'm filling in for him while he's resting. But I can take it in his stead?" "I'm supposed to give it to him directly. He's expecting it, as far as I know. He shouldn't mind. It will only take a moment." What is this thing, anyway? H'vier probably doesn't know. But he has instructions and he intends to see them through. "No. I'm sorry, sir, but no. If you need to give it to him directly, you can come back when he's well again. But I'm sure he won't mind if I accept it for him. I'm his son. Journeyman Oliwer." Wait. "Oliwer?" H'vier knows that name. "You're Oliwer?" The healer studies the bronzerider for a moment before nodding. "That's right. I'm Master Reniler's son." That's the important part, evidently, since he doesn't even know the large man by name. The large man who doesn't seem capable of doing anything but make Oliwer uncomfortable with the way he's currently staring at him. "Look, if you're not okay leaving it with me, I really have to get to work," continues Oliwer as he starts to herd H'vier far enough out of the door's frame so he can close it and lock it behind him. It's easy enough to get H'vier to back up. But leaving the journeyman to his work? Not quite yet. "You're the old gay healer," he begins, voice low enough not to carry quite as loudly as the rest of his words do, "That fucked my weyrmate?!" Fortunately Oliwer is facing the door still when H'vier says that so the bronzerider can't see the way he goes pale. But he glances down both ways of the hallway, one of which currently has a small group of apprentices that are glancing back their way and giggling, before he's turning to face the much, much larger man. "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss that," he returns firmly. "And please keep your voice down." "Oh, I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" says H'vier, decidedly not keeping his voice down because he's an asshole like that. Except his next question is somewhat more quiet, if only to make it more threatening, "But is it because you don't want people to know you're fucking other peoples' women or because they don't know you fuck women at all?" Then, lightbulb, "Or is it the men they don't know about?" The answer to that question is written plainly enough on Oliwer's face. He's not thinking clearly enough to maintain anything so helpful as neutrality. "From what I recall, the only reason Tayte wanted my company at all was because you were with someone else." H'vier's reaction is quick, shoving the healer back against the door with one hand before stepping into his personal space. Because he's clearly not scary enough otherwise. "I don't need some old fucking faggot giving me shit about my relationship with my weyrmate. If I ever find out you're touching her again, I'll kill you." Well, this is going well. So very well. Maybe this isn't the time for Oliwer's jaw to tighten stubbornly or for him to say something like, "Tayte is a beautiful, amazing woman. She deserves infinitely better than what she's getting out of you and you should be ashamed of letting her settle with someone like you." Hopefully whatever's in the package isn't breakable, because H'vier is dropping it on the ground. That's to give himself two whole free hands. One to grab the healer by the shirt and the other to punch him squarely in the face. It happens so fast, Oliwer doesn't have time to lift an arm defensively. And in the next moment, he's sliding down the door, holding his face and cursing uncharacteristically at the unfamiliar pain. "Keep your dick to yourself, faggot," growls H'vier as he reaches down to pick the package back up. That might never actually get to Reniler at this point. As the bronzerider turns, he grins at the woman staring nearby, offering a casual salute before continuing on his way. |
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