Logs:Admissions
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| RL Date: 24 May, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov, Iesaryth, Vhaeryth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: While visiting, Shani has a disagreement with N'rov over eliminating potential Fortian candidates that leads her to admit some things she might not otherwise. Vhaeryth still gets oiled. |
| Where: N'rov and Vhaeryth's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 11, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, E'ten/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions |
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| Home from sweeps, Vhaeryth's had his bath and so has N'rov, though the latter's back to lighter clothes now that they're in their weyr and he's busy at work. Vhaeryth's even in his weyr instead of flying sky-high with Isyath and the others that like to join them, for once, but that's because that work revolves around getting the bronze oiled: all of him, even back behind his wings where it isn't as easy to reach. If there's any 'Are they here yet?' « I already said no, » at least it's inaudible. Iesaryth is not as common a sight in Fort's skies of late, as much due to issues at home as any resentment that's now long forgotten (though there are the eggs to come, that's sure to irritate her again, in some indefinable way). But in time, she does appear, sunny-bright despite clouds that make the day gray. As salt waters bubble out to greet the watchdragon, Elaruth, Bijedth, she tells Vhaeryth, « We're here. » As if he could not see. She's quick to land on the narrow ledge and greet the bronze with a soft rumble - how nice his hide looks! - while his rider carefully dismounts. She'd be almost dressed demurely if it weren't for the details: her prim white blouse is faintly sheer; the short sleeved dress over it black leather and - predictably - ridiculously short. They'll even be real eggs, unlike a few of Cadejoth's (many)! And if Vhaeryth has anything to do with it, none of them will get stolen, unlike some of Adiulth's. Not that he's preoccupied with that, yet, being in an easy sprawl that lets him greet the gold with slow-whirling eyes. N'rov greets Shani with a tossed fur. "Warm your legs up, girl. Just don't cover them." "How does that work?" Aishani can catch the fur, one-handed even, but just holds it for a moment, arching fine brows questioningly. But she can try, finding a little ledge for one foot to lift a long leg, and - looking over at N'rov with bright eyes - rubbing the fur all over it like a towel, right up to the raised hem of her dress. Iesaryth, for her part, pays no attention to this. It's all typical. She'll just settle down near Vhaeryth, careful not to raise any dust lest it get caught in the drying oil. "I don't know. Improvise." Then she does, and N'rov watches, paying less and less attention to what was supposed to be his task. Until, abruptly, Vhaeryth elongates that already-long neck and pokes him in the back of his knee with his muzzle, and the bronzerider stumbles, starting to laugh. "Fine, you got me." Both of them. Aishani won't get paybacks, but his bronze is a different story, so N'rov saunters right past Vhaeryth while holding that oil rag in one hand. "How are you doing for oil, Iesaryth? Would you like some?" This time the bronze snorts, haughtily. Shani can't help but grin - first, slowly and wickedly as he watches her, then widely as the bronze pokes him like that. Maybe it worked, despite her actual reason for doing it, because she switches legs with easy grace, fur sliding over her skin. With a little pout for Vhaeryth's benefit, "So mean, you are. You were in the middle of paying attention to him, even if I'd rather you pay attention to me." Iesaryth swings her head around to regard N'rov with bright blue eyes, as if considering, but the snort from next to her has her settling back down again. Manners have her declining, which might be just as well. There's a lot of her. N'rov doesn't look relieved as such, not on the outside, but he does have a smirk. "If you say so," he tells Iesaryth before turning back to her rider. Not that he approaches, but rather leans against Vhaeryth's shoulder and idly pats it with the rag, which may not be polishing but at least is something. "I'm sorry for being so mean, Vhaeryth," he tells his dragon, which doesn't stop his gaze from roving over Shani and her legs. "I apologize. Just as soon as she's done with that other leg, I'll be right with you. I just have to watch her closely, in case she has signs of frostbite." Iesaryth sighs heavily, as if it's such a trial to turn down such an offer. Perhaps she had encouragement. And if N'rov's going to watch, Shani will go out of her way to make a show of it, slowing the smoothing of fur over her leg from thigh all the way down to her ankle, bending over to reach. "You don't sound all that sorry," she points out, looking over to Vhaeryth as if she's sorry for that, but from the way she's barely managing to hide her smile, dark eyes still alight, it might be hard to buy. Arching her brows the bronzerider's way, lightly, "And if I show signs of frostbite? Should I do this all over?" N'rov had fallen silent, and for good reason. "There's a good reason for that," he even says out loud when prompted, only to get snorted at again. "I think that would probably wind up killing me, directly or," with a nod to Vhaeryth, "indirectly. Why don't you tell me about your day. What's been happening? Any craziness since last time? I'll just finish him up by way of a bribe, meanwhile, and then we can do a frostbite check afterward if you haven't perished in the meantime." That little moue appears again, but Shani doesn't argue with a dragon's right to be oiled, just gives a little sigh as she swings that leg down, so as to be a little less distracting. Perching on the little outcropping, fur still in hand, she shakes her head. "No, tell me about you, here first. My day hasn't been too bad - especially now--" A flash of a smile, warm. "But I want to talk about something else for just... a little while." The gold moves her head over to nudge Vhaeryth lightly, pleased. See! He's still getting oiled. Even if she could have in his place. Vhaeryth's a little grumbly about that, because this doesn't count as a real oiling... until his rider gets back to it, though N'rov's not exactly as speedy as usual. And whose fault is that? Her rider's. "Well, here I'm oiling my dragon," and the bronzerider cocks a brow at his girl with another smirk before picking up a proper tempo. "But before that, people were carrying on in the breakfast line about who Lord Fort's going to marry, and then someone else was going off about Hattie's girls and who cares, really? It about put me off my klah, and I needed that with morning sweeps." « I think you like to complain. » Iesaryth is good-natured about both that and her rider's complicity in Vhaeryth's lack of 'real' oiling, unbothered. After he's done, perhaps she will fly with him as opposed to lounging about on the ledge, would that help? As for Aishani, tone amused, "I can see that." The Fort Hold situation seems to be a little perplexing however, as she asks, "Have you seen much of what's going on there? It sounds like some sort of... competition less than a matchmaking. It's kind of..." She wrinkles her nose, letting her expression speak rather than put words to the matter. Ew. But, "Hattie's girls? Her children? « There is much that is imperfect in this world, » Vhaeryth explains before reciting, « 'Truth is an unpopular subject, because it is unquestionably correct.' » Especially with the part of the world that revolves around him, apparently. He can handle the lounging, not that he'll turn down flying, it's just a matter of his rider's job being half-finished. What if he started to itch, after all? "I haven't, I've been well out of that," N'rov says. "Some of the others talk about fashion this and that, so you might like that, just don't ask me to repeat it. As for her girls, she shipped them off somewhere to foster, I guess, and people will find anything to talk about even though that's perfectly normal. There was something about twins and are they not really twins." He shrugs, leaning in to get a particularly difficult spot. "I think people should stay off of kids, talking like that, personally." Iesaryth has to agree with that - what else does she do with her time but think think think, pick things apart and put them back together in a shape that's more pleasing to her? And what if he started to itch, good question. It would clearly be a tragedy. In her usual mellow good mood, she'll go with the flow, the epitome of her watery self - whatever Vhaeryth would like. "I don't know if I'd like it if you can't repeat it. They might not know what they're talking about," Shani points out with a thread of superiority. She's not been able to afford clothes for long, but apparently, that's all the time she needed to get snobby about it. As N'rov explains, she shades towards sober, nodding slowly. "I hope she's all right, Hattie. She seemed to like having them close, her children. And you're right. They wouldn't be the only children of uncertain parentage in a Weyr." Glancing toward the gold, with a purse of lips, "I don't think anything crazy has happened all that recently. Same stories going around about Ysavaeth's flight, our part in it. Taikrin's still considering Weyrsecond. The usual." Near-chaos. He'll know it when he sees it, and be pleased for her joining him, while for now Vhaeryth lolls his head down again and lets himself be tended to. "I'm going to assume they don't know what they're talking about," N'rov explains to his girl. "At least, compared to you. Commissioned anything new lately?" He works Vhaeryth over slowly enough to get the job done right, quickly enough to get the job done sooner over later and definitely today. "I hope so too, Hattie. And more of the same? They could have come up with something more creative. Better than something new. I guess. Did I tell you I finally got to talking to N'muir, about the candidates?" Meanwhile, Iesaryth can wait and watch the Fortian bowl, different by its very location. She's certainly not really in need of oiling by the look of her, sunburst hide as bright as always - the gold is really (also) one of Shani's best accessories; how could she be ignored? "Not very recently, but I have a few things coming. One of which is pink, and not likely to be worn in public. But I ought to think about turnover, I imagine." Then her grin for N'rov fades, and a little grimly, "Why be creative if it keeps on? I ought to find something new for them to talk about, honestly. Change the whole conversation. And I don't think so," in the oddly careful tone her voice takes on around clutch matters. "I imagine he agrees with the Weyrwoman?" "I do like the sound of... Not Turnover," N'rov says, the touch of grimness in his own tone predating hers, if barely. "My sister's betrothed's sister is making noises about how much she'd love to come to the Weyr and wouldn't it be exciting to Stand, and of course my sister's trying to reel me in. So let's talk about pink again, outside of the context of sisters." He keeps working, a simple enough job after getting close to four Turns now, simple and time-consuming and rewarding. "Conversation-changing, that I like the sound of too, only as long as it doesn't involve things going worse for you. N'muir... let's just say that he says he'll 'see what he can do.' I made my point about shipping the questionable ones off South, but I'm not sure what else I can do beyond reminding him every morning until he ships me off South instead." Which threat, by his half-grin, may not be stopping him. "Her, my cousin. Though I don't know that she wants to Stand, and she's too young anyway." But not too young by much, if Shani's talking about the little ninja who passed on her message via N'rov so long ago. Or what feels so distant, given everything since. Gamely, pushing off the ledge to slowly start closer and toss the fur back from whence it came, "Very bright pink and sheer and short and pretty, so I'm told. It's different, yes?" She doesn't seem to really want to pull his attention from Vhaeryth and his task, but there's only so long she can stay away, even when it hasn't been all that long - she limits herself to running hands over his broad back, sliding arms loosely around his waist. Until it becomes awkward. "Mmm, no. I've planted rumors before, I just need the right one. After that, it's simple enough. As is the matter of the candidates, really. If there's someone questionable searched, don't let them Stand. People will complain either way." Trust. Sheer and short and pretty. "Not thinking about your cousin now," N'rov tells Shani, and swings the oil rag as though he's about to flick her oncoming knee, except Vhaeryth shifts and he rubs it over him, instead. "You realize I can't touch you right now, or I'll get your nice clothes all oily," he says once she's wrapped so wonderfully around him. She talks of planting rumors, he doesn't say much there, but then the candidates are coming up again. "That's my thought. They have given Ali the final word, so there's that. She's conservative about it herself. How far would you go, to determine whether someone were 'safe'?" Her slow smile perhaps heard more than felt as she rests her head against his back, Shani points out, "That could be entertaining..." Long fingers slide up under his shirt briefly, perhaps brief in deference to Vhaeryth, who would no doubt be less than entertained. And her clothes would probably get oily eventually. Still warm against him though, for the moment, she's careful again, slow to choose her words. "If they've given it to her and it's the important to her, then she'll have to make those decisions and not... hide behind someone else. Take the criticism." Silent for a beat or two, she says eventually, "You know me. If I thought someone was wrong or Iesaryth did, I wouldn't allow it. I don't care what people think, not when it comes to that." "I don't think she'll hide." N'rov ducks his head like he'd kiss her hand if he could. With it traveling, and his oily, he has to settle for flexing his hand against the glassy-smooth hide beyond them. Vhaeryth leans in, rumbling. "What if you didn't know? We don't know. I'd be happy to send all that lot away, even if he's right that it would drive some of their families to greater dislike. He says to leave Fort's safety to him, but it's not just Fort, it's his, their hatchlings." N'rov glances back over his shoulder at her. "Not to browbeat the song like a harper waiting for the next round to walk by at a Gather, mind you. Which reminds me, I hear there's one coming up in the next seven at South Telgar. Let's go together." For that gesture, Shani presses a kiss between his shoulder blades, but something has her drawing away - if slowly and reluctantly, hands lingering around his hips as she does, fingers trailing. "I wouldn't care if I didn't know. Better to wait and offend one family than the whole lot of them screaming discrimination. Which it is, you know. Just like against convicts or traders or anyone else." And if that's pointed, well. She might have reason. "You have the solution to the problem and you want to push further. I don't blame him. Protect them by refusing anyone you don't like. I'm quite certain Ali will agree." She doesn't go far, leaning against Iesaryth, arms crossed as the gold turns to watch. Though it's not quite as enthusiastic as he might like, "All right." "Shani. I know that's what it is." The flat of his hand encourages Vhaeryth to lower himself, so he can continue to oil the bronze even if that's not where the bulk of his attention lies. Better, N'rov can see Aishani between the ridges along his dragon's neck. "But I'm not saying, send them out into the cold, send them to somewhere that wouldn't be safe, send them into real exile. I'm not saying, never let them come back. How much of a home can this place be, yet? What we do know, even if we can't know about every single one, is that calm-seeming people break out and we can't know what renegades did to them, not yet. The reason why I want them gone, now, is that I don't want that clutch to be laid and to have a dragon start wanting them, even still in the shell." His hands have come to a stop. "It hasn't been that long. When we know them better, when we know what individuals are like, that's different." "It won't matter to them. And it won't matter to anyone who sees it. It sends a message and it won't be forgotten. And you don't even know if the dragons notice anything until they're hatched. Why are you even asking me? You've already decided. I'm not going to say it's okay to make you feel better, or so you can add that to your argument." Shani's expression is now darker, as she slouches against her dragon, looking out to the leaden sky over the bowl. "You don't even think about what it's like. What would you say if someone wanted that of me, that control over where the people of my Weyr go, regardless of when they showed up or why? Was causing me that problem?" N'rov has cut himself off since the last word he'd spoken. Well into that, he squeezes out the oil rag and lays it lightly over Vhaeryth's neck like a very tiny blanket, then secures the lid to the container and starts rubbing the oil on his hands off into the towel. Vhaeryth looks at him, and then when he looks back, resettles with unusual grace. "I would imagine that you would decide, that you've had to get used to balancing people, and that you would send the rider off to Southern instead of South Telgar if he were bothering you that much," N'rov says in a level tone as he walks toward Aishani. "I know how I feel, and I know I have the luxury of not having to be the one who finally decides." Iesaryth just... watches. She's keeping her eye on things. On Vhaeryth's rider in particular, perhaps - but she's certainly biased in that regard. The gold doesn't move as long as Aishani's leaning against her; though N'rov's coming toward her, the goldrider's dark gaze is still fixed on the sky. "So you'd rather just eliminate the decision entirely, damn the consequences. Nice of you. And you said what I'd do, not what you'd tell me to do." There's a long moment where she blinks a few times, her jaw sets. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." She looks like part of her would rather go, but she's not moving. N'rov doesn't offer to lean against Iesaryth himself, and he also doesn't block any of that sky. He stands there, though. "I don't think I can argue with you. Let's not." He can look at her, though, and he does. "If you can't argue..." Shani says with a faint smirk, though more quietly, much of the edge gone from her tone. She doesn't finish, doesn't reach out to him, just stands there as well, arms crossed tightly over herself, and lets the silence stretch on. Her expression is conflicted, and it takes her some time to speak; when she does, she has to swallow, words low and throaty. "What... There's time, she's only gone up the once, but what if it doesn't happen for them. For us. If there's always this thing that... we don't have with each other. That you have with..." Trailing off, she doesn't seem inclined to go into a list. So N'rov takes that last step, so he can lean his shoulder into hers instead of the more intimate contact her stance precludes. "Maybe it won't. If it doesn't, obviously we'll have to have one of hers fly one of his, and they can have grand-hatchlings that way. I might draw the line at dressing up as them so we can reenact some alternate universe thing, but you can be pretty persuasive, so who knows?" She finally glances back, if only to give him a look, exasperated, but also pleading a little - give her a break? For once? As if to underscore all that, Aishani notes, "None of that is terribly comforting." She doesn't shove him off her shoulder though, for all Iesaryth might be a little restless with the both of them now. "No? Is this comforting?" N'rov angles to kiss her, now. "I'm not worried about the thing. I don't want you to worry either, but I'll still kiss you even if you do." Like that. Shani's arms start to slip from their protective pose as he kisses her, her chin lifting, lips soft on his. "It's nice," she'll admit, starting to straighten away from Iesaryth and toward N'rov, which probably makes the gold happy, considering. "Why aren't you worried? Tell me?" It's not quite her usual demand - there's something of her earlier entreaty in her tone. Straightening towards him means he can wrap his arms around her, hands on her shoulders first and then sliding towards her back. "I don't know," N'rov says to Shani. "I'm just not. I don't feel worried." He can settle for only wrapping one arm about her, if it means he can take her hand and hold it to his heart. "Feel that? That's not worry there, not about that; maybe for all the things we won't talk about, but not that." She'll slip one arm around his waist in return, dark eyes wide when he takes her hand to hold it to his chest - when she can feel his heart beat. Shani flickers a glance up at N'rov, caught by his gaze, unable to look away. Over a breath, "I want to be everything to you." It's selfish in a way, so maybe unsurprising. With the faintest sense of apology, "Maybe we won't not-talk about things forever." "Like the song, the air I breathe? Don't tell the harpers, because then they would love you too," N'rov says wryly, right before he brings her hand up for his kiss. "I'm sure inspiring music is much more reputable than stick figures, and beware if they ask you to sit for a portrait... though if anyone should be painted, it would be you." This time, it's her lips he seeks. "Don't..." Whatever Shani's about to say - don't do that, don't be like that, whatever, she lets it trail off as he kisses her hand, her fine brows brought together in consternation. She's uncertain, dark eyes faintly wary as they always are when she's left herself vulnerable, even with the compliments. Even with the kiss, which she doesn't turn from, which she's eager for, her slender fingers tightening around his hand. Between kisses, lips brushing his, "You can't just be nice when I say those things." "No? Should I be less than nice?" N'rov tightens his hold on Shani's hand before setting it on his shoulder; he spreads both hands wide about her ribcage now, the better to lift her off her feet. "Should I refuse to let you go, tell you that I'll have to keep you here?" Breathy now, "I meant, why can't you be... It doesn't matter." It doesn't matter when Shani can slide that hand up his neck, into dark curls, wrap her other arm around his neck and long legs tight around his waist when he lifts her. Grinning slowly, resting her forehead against his, "Haven't we talked about that before? Would you like that? Keeping me here?" With her saying it doesn't matter, N'rov doesn't seem to be inquiring further, especially since Shani's hold does very nice things with the shortness of her skirt. In fact, with her lodged that way, he can turn and stomp wide-legged towards the weyr. "Come, woman! Be kept. Ugh." In a more normal voice, "Beat my chest for me, would you? I can't reach." Pulling back a little to give him a look, Shani points out, "That's not hot." She's still wrapped around him, but certainly less into him than a moment or two a go, so it might support her point. Frustrated, poking his chest rather than actually thumping it, "Why can't you leave a moment alone? Why do you have to be like that?" Not that she says 'all the time', because that's not true; not that she seems to expect an answer. Her nose wrinkles at him as she glances up, lashes low. "Like what." N'rov makes it into a question as he grins down at her. Possibly he's enjoying that frustration a little too much, or just the play of her lashes. "The way you are." Aishani might like the look of that grin, from the way she's still watching him beneath dark lashes, the flush on her cheeks. But she still shoves him lightly, hand on broad chest as if she might try to make him let her go. "You won't be serious." Won't be, not can't be. What it does is make N'rov go, past very much un-entertained Vhaeryth and into the weyr, even if it's not letting her go so much. "I'd say I was serious before, and that didn't go over so well, except we weren't talking about that." Though Shani doesn't shove him again as he takes them both in, she sobers, expression and gaze both darkening until, "So you'll be serious about that, but when I actually tell you how I feel, that's cause for entertainment until I have to ask you to tell me something." -- "Let me go." Now she'll give him a bit of a push, untangling herself the best she can. The bronzerider stops, startled, but not so much that he doesn't immediately return her to her feet. He stops short of tugging her dress down for her, too, thrusting his hands into his pockets with a frown. "What was I supposed to have done?" Aside from know better. She doesn't even bother to straighten her own skirt, too concerned with finding her feet and trying not to look too worried. Her brows coming together again in her own frown, Shani tries to look over to him, gaze cautious again. "I don't know. Not have made a joke about it? Let me know how you feel without dragging it out of you? I..." She stops, looks down. "It's not easy. I'd think you'd understand that." N'rov's still frowning, but less so now that Shani's looked back at him, his black brows shoved hard together. "I thought you knew how I feel. Joking doesn't mean I'm not serious." He shifts like he's going to step away, start pacing, but in the end stays in place. "I don't mean to make you feel bad, Shani." "I do, but..." Shani's not sure how to put it, but she tries, chancing another look over at N'rov before her gaze flickers back down to the stone. A little quicker to get it out, "You're not worried, fine. But it feels to me like that's the closest we could get, a flight, in some ways. I was... trying to say that's why it's all bothering me, talking about it. Not the only reason why, fine, but I wanted to try to explain." His last has her glance over again, apologetic. "I know. You... you don't. Not really." "A flight would be amazing. You, Iesaryth." N'rov rolls his jaw, though in the end that doesn't wholly dislodge the tension there. "But I've pretty well had to get used to the idea that I can't count on it working when I want it to. It's not like you have this great tremendous bond with that brownrider, so there's that." He's close enough to the table that he reaches over, picks up the small spice jar, and starts passing it from hand to hand. "But I want to know about you. Are you more bothered that he didn't fly her, or that he did fly someone else... or that particular someone else?" With a purse of her lips, "So there's that. It's easier for you. She's not going to go up more than once in awhile; who knows how often he'll catch." Aishani dips her head to let her hair fall forward to cover her face, folds her arms, toes the stone of the floor with her boot. "You want to know about me," she repeats, rueful. The tall dark girl isn't exactly the picture of someone that's eager for conversation. Lowly, "I'm always bothered when it's someone else. It doesn't matter who. But I won't pretend that didn't feel worse." He moves close enough to her to rock the jar into one hand and try to lift her hair with the other. "I'm sorry," N'rov says. "I don't intend to make you feel bad, about anything." If he'd ordinarily append a joke here, this time he doesn't. She doesn't stop him from lifting dark waves; her expression is still unsettled, conflicted, but Shani's not crying at least. Letting her gaze lift to meet his, "I know. Don't be sorry." It's not his fault. Her fingers circle loosely around his wrist, and she tilts her head into his hand. "Shani," the bronzerider says, his voice low and pained. He splays his fingers wide to cradle her head, his fingers deep in her hair. He can be sorry if he wants, he'd tease her, only he actually thinks about it in time not to. "I want good things for you, here and there both." Not right away, but soon, "Come back here to me." All that in his voice, in her name widens Shani's eyes, catches her breath. Maybe she's sorry now, for whatever's made him sound like that. She closes her eyes at his fingers in her hair, and she breathes out his name softly. "I want that for you. I want there not to be a here and there some day." It's not right away, but she doesn't need much urging to come back to him - which she does with a long, slow kiss, arms sliding around his neck. "On that island, right?" N'rov dares to ask. "Except a different one." He dares to laugh, too, or maybe that's the kiss that he returns with much more than simple interest. But this time, he doesn't sweep her off her feet, instead keeping them both well on the ground. "Wherever you want. Maybe I can get a wagon. One of them can move it around." Aishani begins to grin as she's kissing him, sidling in so she's pressed every inch of herself against him, fingers creeping into his curls. She might hook a leg around him to pull him in closer still. "Except that island." "Or both, they can pull in tandem," except Vhaeryth would step on it first. "Not that island," the bronzerider agrees, and once she's pulled him in, sees what else they can agree on right now. |
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