Logs:Delayed Departure
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| RL Date: 15 August, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte, Yvalia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte's departure from the Weyr is delayed, H'vier tries to take advantage of the easy access, but things go a different direction. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 7, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated and played via gdocs. |
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| Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr The peculiar shape of this room suggests that it was unintentionally expanded, cement holding the ceiling together towards the peculiarly shaped alcove build into the back corner. It's larger than most personal quarters as a result, and though the uneven walls mean nothing sits flush, there's plenty of room for more than the usual amount of furniture. The larger lobe of the lopsided kidney shape that the room has might be considered a studio room. A large bed is tucked into the roundest part of the alcove, though there's a gap behind where the straight headboard does not meet the wall. It's piled high with furs and pillows. In this curve there's also a wardrobe, a dresser, and nightstands. Hooks extending from the ceiling over the dresser have been rigged with two layered chain-link that holds a number of bottles of alcohol of different varieties. The highest drawer in the dresser which is bizarrely the largest locks with a key. Opposite it, closer to the door, is a hearth that's had a throw rug and loveseat set in front of it, along with a few low tables. A set of shelves and a small desk sit opposite the curve of the smaller end of the room. Around the curve and into the little lobe, one finds a great change. There's color everywhere instead of the muted things in the front half. Scarves and streamers hang from little hooks installed in the ceiling, their lengths varying, and a crib is set up in the middle with two small boxes that have toys poking out of their not-quite-shut lids. There's a tall table stocked with all the tools a mother needs (well, those that are safe to be at toddler height) and a small dresser and wardrobe. The furniture is all hand-me-downs but in decent enough condition to make the occupants comfortable.
If Tayte is going to be hanging around the Weyr awhile longer, H'vier would be foolish not to take advantage of her easy access while he can. He knocks and even waits for some sort of acknowledgement before attempting to help himself inside. "You know, I've heard women get real horny when they're pregnant. What're you gonna do without me right there with you the whole time?" he asks in lieu of greeting before the possibility of children being present actually registers in his brain. As there was no pre-set and agreed upon date, when Tayte calls, "It's open," the scene that the door reveals is one that does, indeed, include a four turn old with blonde wavy hair and light eyes, so much like Tayte, and yet there are differences in the facial structure that can be identified if one looks hard enough. Tayte and Yvalia are seated on the carpet in front of the hearth with a toybox and a wealth of toys. This is the arduous task of deciding which toys get to come and which have to stay. Tayte's facing the door, so she looks above Yvalia's curiously turning head to raise a single vaguely amused brow and regard the bronzerider. "Hello, H'vier." Instead of answering his comment, she simply glances to her child, "Have you met my daughter, Yvalia?" and back. Does he get the silent message about appropriate time and place for answers to those kinds of questions? The four turn old simply looks at him for a moment, considering. When H'vier registers the little girl, he pauses and looks down at her like she's some strange new creature never before discovered by the likes of him. It probably wouldn't be a Thing if there wasn't the possibility that she was a part of him. And it's a possibility that he, apparently, can't just brush off for some reason. "Hey, kid," is his greeting, somewhat more gentle than how he might greet someone that he doesn't really care about actually talking to but still characteristically casual. "I don't think we've met before. I don't think I've seen you at the bar," he says the last with a grin that makes it clear he's teasing. "Momma says I'm not old enough for the bar." Yvalia's voice is a chipper soprano contrast to her mother's smooth alto. "Hi." She adds a moment later. "Vali, this is my friend H'vier." Tayte adds for her daughter's benefit. Then, "Why don't you pick out five more of your favorites from this pile," she points, "While I talk to Havi." Though there's a face made for only five the girl focuses on the task as Tayte rises gracefully from her kneeling position on the floor and crosses to the bronzerider. In a low voice, she murmurs, "To answer your question, they make toys for that." Her smirk shows she might not be serious. She doesn't move to kiss him or anything like that, but she does reach to curl her fingers into his, if he'll let her. "How are you?" "Does she now," says H'vier with a grin still lingering on his scruffy face. He looks about ready to say something contrary to Tayte's decision about Yvalia's age and the bar but when she speaks to the girl, he holds his tongue and watches instead. When Tayte rises and moves to him so they can speak more privately, his gaze lingers on the little girl for several moments before his attention turns to the woman. "I think I can live with competing with toys." Actual people? Maybe not so much. "I'm good. Just fine. You?" Cue a flickered glance to her belly. There's a laugh from Tayte, "Not that I've gone all celibate since I found out," Even though she has, but she makes the claim anyway. "I suppose I could always meet some young, tanned, muscled rider down South and--" The way she draws out each adjective, it's obvious that Tayte's experimentally teasing the bronzerider, perhaps just testing the waters for his reaction to such a thing. "I'm nauseous a lot, but I've managed not to puke yet, so." Her shoulders rise and fall in an accepting manner, "And I'm sleeping more. But that's all the same as when it was Yvalia." She glances toward the girl and then back to H'vier. Making sure her voice is hushed, she murmurs, "She doesn't know yet. That I'm pregnant. I want to wait until I'm showing to tell her." H'vier's reaction is measured, his smile fading in the moments following her teasing and slow to return, maybe even a touch forced as Tayte continues and his gaze draws back up toward her face. "So long as everything seems to be normal, I suppose that's good." The bronzerider glances back over to where the girl is picking out her toys. "Right. Might be best if I let you two get back to your business, hmm?" Though he doesn't turn to go immediately. Oh, and she is watching that measured reaction with unveiled interest. Her look is even, with the slight curl of one of her more neutral smiles. Tayte waits patiently for his eyes to return to hers and listens to his words. She presses up, up, up onto her tip-toes, her hand rising to slip around the back of his neck to try to plant a light kiss on his lips. She'll need his cooperation to succeed, though. 5'9" is no small height for a woman, but it's still enough inches below H'vier's 6'5" that kissing only comes with his help. "Well, you could. Or you could stay?" It's an offer. "We're not going to be doing anything particularly exciting this evening. And it's almost time for Yvalia to go down for the night. You're welcome to stay, if you like. I'd enjoy your company." She adds the last gently, it's meant as encouraging, but not pressuring. His hand moves unconsciously to her waist as Tayte presses up and he tilts his head obligingly down to meet her lips. H'vier studies the woman's face for several moments, his own pensive but otherwise neutral. "I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to stay," he tells her, glancing back again toward Yvalia. "Is she used to seeing you hanging on random men?" "Mm, no. But mine is not a traditional family life in any case. And does one kiss really count as hanging on? And are you a random man?" Tayte fires off the questions one after another, though her tone remains light and a little amused. Her blonde brows rise quizzically at the bronzerider. "If you'd rather be a random man, I'll resist the urge to hang on you until she's asleep. Yvalia isn't paying much attention to them really. She's got her back to them and she's holding two plush animals, one in each hand. One might imagine that if they were able to see her face, her brow would be furrowed in concentration as she considers this all-important choice. "Your family is traditional enough," he points out, though it's clearly from his point of view as a dragonrider for many turns. "I ought to be the only man," there's a slight hesitation there since he knows well enough it's not just men that Tayte has interest in, "she sees you kissing and hanging on," H'vier adds, words spoken low and the hand at her waist pulling her closer for the few moments following before it relaxes enough to let her move of her own accord. H'vier's words have Tayte's head tilting and confusion touching her face. "So I can find a buff tan guy to roll around with but you're the only one my daughter should see coming around?" This is asked haltingly as she tries to make sense of what seem to be possibly conflicting messages. She doesn't resist the pull closer, but she's peering up at him curiously. "No," says H'vier, agitated, his voice raised slightly in some reflection of his current emotions. But he pauses to compose himself, to speak more evenly and more quietly. "There shouldn't be any other guys. I don't like the idea of you being off somewhere else let alone you rolling around with whatever pretty muscles you happen across." It might be unreasonable, on more than one level, but when has being reasonable stopped him from saying things in the past? Tayte reaches up to brush her fingertips through the hair on the side of his head. It's a light, reassuring touch. "How about I put Vali down a little early-- like, nowish, and we'll talk about it once she's in bed?" The woman suggests quietly. Less chance that little ears will be paying attention as they might be now. "You can help yourself to a drink if you like, while you're waiting." She gestures to a bottle on the dresser top. H'vier studies Tayte's face, relaxing just slightly at her touch, and nodding before glancing again toward the little girl. "Sure," is added as he withdraws so she can go more easily to take care of Yvalia and he'll probably help himself to that drink at some point between now and then but he doesn't immediately move to do so. H'vier does have a wait coming. For one thing, Yvalia isn't finished choosing her toys. Despite Tayte's reassurances that she can continue in the morning, it's clear from the exchange that carries on between mother and daughter that the little girl has stubbornness enough to put up a good fight. Eventually, she's swept up in Tayte's arms after a negotiation that ends with Yvalia getting three of the five selected before she's taken around the curve in the room to her alcove in the lop-sided kidney-shaped room. Tayte's voice carries as she talks with Yvalia while the girl is getting changed and as a song is demanded and given. It ends with the soft sound of a kiss and an 'I love you' to the child. Finally, Tayte returns, moving to H'vier's side wherever he's ended up - be it the bed or loveseat or wherever else. "Sorry that took so long." She murmurs the apology, tone hushed, sure not to carry around the curve in the room with any kind of definition. While he waits, H'vier pours himself a drink and settles on the loveseat. No doubt he listens to the exchanges he can hear between mother and child once they've gone out of site but when Tayte reappears, the bronzerider is staring thoughtfully at nothing until she moves closer and his attention is drawn toward her and her voice. "No need to apologize. I'm never alone." There's a brief smile before his face has gone neutral again and he watches her as though waiting for some inevitable other shoe to drop. "What's he like?" Tayte asks softly as she settles close beside him, pulling her legs up to tuck her feet under her, her head settling lightly on his shoulder. Maybe she asks it to delay the inevitable, or maybe because she's really and truly curious about Reisoth. But there's no other words coming yet, just the one question. It's not the question or even line of conversation he was expecting so it takes a moment for H'vier to consider how to answer. His thought process isn't helped much by the welcome distraction of Tayte settling in against him and he takes a moment to press his lips against her head before saying, "A lot like me, I guess. But... he'd say smarter." It's clear H'vier doesn't necessarily agree. "He's patient. Cool-headed. Ambitious. A bit of a bastard." One might see how they'd compliment each other. Tayte's expression shifts into greater interest as she compares 'a lot like me' with the adjectives H'vier then uses to describe the dragon. But the only comment she makes is a small 'Mm' noise of acknowledgement of the answer. As she doesn't seem to have a follow-up question along that line, she's left with the watchwher in the room. "So," she murmurs, "You want me to be only with you?" She starts, gently, mildly, letting her hand fall to the top of his thigh lightly, more contact besides her head where it still rests on his shoulder. It doesn't take much thought on his part to answer that question but he moves a hand to cover hers, squeezing just noticeably before he says anything. "Only with me. The thought of you with anyone else-- I don't like it. And you shouldn't need anyone else." H'vier doesn't mention that it might be different once she's had his baby. He can't be sure it will be different then, after all. "I don't want to share you." There isn't immediate protest, or really any immediate feedback of any kind. Instead, only another question: "What about you? Should you need anyone else? Or are you only sleeping with me?" There's curiosity in Tayte's voice, but no accusation or anything that indicates she might be waiting to say 'Ah-ha! That's what I thought!' even if she might be. "There hasn't been anyone else. Not since you told me." And he's either telling the truth or he's a good liar. Well, he's a good liar whether he's telling the truth or not. But that's beside the point. "Do you want it to only be you?" H'vier asks. "You don't think I can only fuck one woman, do you." It's not a question, really, or even an accusation. In fact, he probably thinks that's a fair thought. Tayte is-- well, shocked into silence. It's not many a man who can have this effect on the winsome woman to whom words come so easily. So, likely, she believes him. She takes a moment to be silent and just process that. The answers to H'vier's question and statement are thus delayed. But finally, "Honestly? I didn't think 'only me' was going to be an option with you. Because-- yeah. I've never seen you be-- monogamous." Her brow furrows and she sits up straighter, her feet finding their way back to the floor. She looks... puzzled, like she really needs a second to try to wrap her head around this. She doesn't lift her hand from his thigh, though, if anything her fingers have spread and increased pressure just a bit, as though she's fearful in her taking a moment that he'll try to slip away. Of course there's also the fact that he's been kind of busy with his duties with his new wing. But, even so, he hasn't had much need to look elsewhere when Tayte has been so readily available to him. As the woman moves to sit up more properly, H'vier shifts, watching her carefully. "I've never had much reason to bother," he points out. Though that might not be entirely true. There's likely been others that have wanted him to be, however foolish a notion. But he's not going anywhere right now and that should count for something. Tayte's lip press into a light purse as she gathers in these words to her understanding of the whole situation. Then her head is tilting again as her eyes find his, again curious, "Is it because of me? Or because of the baby? That you want us to only be with each other." This is a point needing some clarity in her mind. The way her head tilts this time though, it's a physical manifestation of how she feels off-balance. That question gives H'vier a moment's pause. In part because he's not actually certain how he's supposed to answer something like that. "I'm not sure that's a very fair question, Tayte. Of course it's because of you. I wanted you before there was a baby. But I'd be lying if I didn't say the baby makes me feel more... protective of you." Possessive, no doubt, too. Tayte's expression is open as she looks at him; receptive. She considers all he says, and after a brief moment of silence, she nods simply; acceptance. "I don't know that I've honestly ever considered just being with one person before." She admits in what is almost a meek tone, the hand on his thigh moving to seek one of his. "I might be bad at it." She worries, eyes shifting uncertainly up to the bronzerider's face. Her teeth have latched lightly onto her lower lip, chewing it in a subconscious expression of the nerves that come with these admissions. "I don't think I'd be very good at sharing you," H'vier admits with a small frown, taking her seeking hand into his. It probably doesn't take a lot of imagination to work out how he might be bad at that sort of thing. He's the guy that beat the hell out of someone for supporting someone he didn't, after all. There's no telling what he'd to do someone that touched his woman. "You might not be bad at it. But what do you want, Tayte?" This is a difficult question. Or so says the amount of time it take Tayte to work out an answer. As she's thinking, the fingers of the hand held in H'vier's fidget, letting the nervous energy eke out. She draws in a breath after some moments of silence and lets it out. "I'd-- like to try. But-- I might be bad it it." She feels the need to reiterate, eyes flicking up to his face. "I guess I feel like we don't really know each other. More like we know about each other, from a distance. Does that make any sense? I'd like us to know each other." Her fingers continue their nervous movements. H'vier doesn't push while she takes the time to work out that answer. But he's definitely there and he's definitely focused on her. "So lets get to know each other." How they'd go about that is another matter. But he seems willing enough to try. The bronzerider brushes his thumb against Tayte's fidgeting hand before lifting it up to press his lips against the back of it. "Relax, gorgeous. It's just me, remember." He has a grin for that, relaxing more himself now that there's been some communication in his favor. Sort of. Relaxing is hard though, because there's one more thing that needs to be said. And it's of a nature that's not likely to continue the trend of 'vaguely positive' that they've started. Her hand doesn't resist being lifted for a kiss, but once he's kissed, and she's steeled herself, Tayte's grip strengthens. Not enough that someone as muscled and strong as H'vier would be bothered by it, but significant enough pressure that it counts as being able to be interpreted as Tayte's version of tight, and she does have strong hands for how slender they are. "Havi, one thing." Breath. "If we're going to try this... you don't have to like that Yvalia has a father now, but you do have to accept it." Her voice is quiet but firm. He can try to argue the point, but something in the seriousness of her expression and voice indicates this is likely a non-negotiable point. "I don't want her confused." Especially not when things are new and they're still getting to know each other. That's not something H'vier was prepared to hear just now and a subtle tension settles back over him as he processes her words. Tries to process them, anyway. Judging from his expression, he's legitimately not sure how to feel about that. Finally, he says, "You don't think me being around or us being together will confuse her? Or do you just plan on having her gone whenever I'm around?" It's obvious that he thinks that sounds ridiculous and he starts drawing away from her and rising up from the loveseat to his feet. "Not necessarily." Tayte answers, the pause to think coming after these first words. "I told you, mine is not a traditional family." Which he may have protested, but that she meant. "So you'll be Mommy's boyfriend. I've never had one before, but it seems like that's an easy enough concept to explain. That you're an extra special friend." She tries to sound confident about this, but it's uncharted territory. If things go well and we do okay with this whole monogamy thing," the way she says that suggests they might be crazy for trying, "Then we'll talk about who you are to her. There's no rush." She looks up at him, questioningly, "Right?" H'vier listens but he's not looking at Tayte. His gaze has wandered in the direction of Yvalia's nook once he's on his feet. And even though he takes a few steps toward that way, it's only so he can turn around and pace the other way, steps slow and pensive. "There's no rush," he agrees. But then, "I think I need some time to... think about everything." It seems to sound as weird to him as it probably sounds coming out of his mouth. His pacing pauses, though he doesn't get very far with it anyway, with him partially turned toward the door. "You need a hand with anything?" Presumably before he takes off. Whatever else he needs to think about, he seems to have decided not to stick around too long tonight. She rises as he starts moving toward Yvalia's alcove, but then hesitates by the loveseat a little awkwardly when he turns and starts back the other way. Tayte watches him. Her expression is even and she nods swiftly enough to answer his words. Despite that, though, her alto is a little more distant when she speaks. "Sure." Pause. "Yeah. Whatever you need." This is to the first statement. Then a shake of her head and the words, "No. I'm fine. Thanks." To his offer of help. Her fingers curl unconsciously into the fabric of her long green skirt, and she just... lingers there, watching him. There's something in her expression. It's not immediately discernible, but a moment's reflection might bring the realization that his uncertainty is reflected in her, maybe hers is even amplified by what she perceives of his (real or imagined). "Okay." That's all he says for now, but H'vier looks back at Tayte, studying her with a certain intensity that probably means he's thinking about something. Something that, for once, isn't even about her being naked or anything. "Good. Let me know if you need anything. I'll do what I can." He gives a brief smile but doesn't seem to intend on easing her uncertainty or even kissing her good-bye before he's turning toward the door to see himself out. |
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