Logs:Laying Claim
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| RL Date: 12 March, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's Z'ian's late turnday and discussion of some other personal things. |
| Where: Z'ian's Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Windy |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions |
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| A narrow passage leads past the dragon couch, curving around into an interior that uses walls made from bricks to delineate between different spaces. Two stone steps lead down into the main area, which has been made almost perfectly square by the reddish-hued bricks: the steps at one end, a hearth at the other, and passages off in either direction on the other two sides. This main area is big enough for a couch and a table, but probably not much more. To the left, the passage weaves around towards the outside, culminating in a small bedchamber - big enough for a full-sized bed and nothing more. Rather more impressive is the tiny shuttered window that lets in natural light, the rough shape - and the bricks correcting that - indicating that it, too, is here thanks to that long-ago disaster. The room off to the right of the living area is barely large enough to be called a room, but could easily be used as a tiny office, or perhaps a storage compartment.
It seems Jo and Tacuseth's been away from the Weyr much as well, though for the convict pair, that's considered normal for them. Now, they land on a Tsanth-less ledge, the tall rider dismounting quickly to get out of the snow. She frowns since the bronze isn't there, and she walks on in with a wrapped box-shaped parcel under one arm and a big brown bottle held by its top. Dressed in her usual, she starts to systematically check the rooms closest to the ledge until she finds him sprawled out with those stack of hides going to the floor. Perhaps her booted steps are the only warning in all this, since she stops and stands right before him on the couch and studies him in a moment of silence. Then, "Came by the other night and didn' find ya in," is her greeting, shifting her hips as she holds up the big bottle. The sound of Tacuseth landing on the ledge brings Z'ian's reading to a pause, he lowers the remaining papers in his hands down. Listening, he turns his head to catch it better. But it's when Jo comes striding into the room that he really knows that it's her and not some stranger wandering room to room in his weyr. He's got a slow smile for her and drops the rest of his work down onto the floor. "I've been out of the Weyr. Family things kept me from here." His expression is rueful and not particularly sad, one eyebrow lifting for the box that's tucked under one arm. "What's that?" Shifting, he drags himself up into a sitting position, leaving room on the couch for her if she wants it. "Family things?" Jo echoes the first, taking up to drop into a seat next to him when Z'ian sits up. Nodding towards the stack of hides, "Family and Boreal, looks like," she notes with a touch of wryness, though she's now peering at his face, studying his expression for a few moments. It's only when he brings attention to it that she breaks her study to first lift up the bottle towards him to answer, "Remembered ya sayin' yer turnday was comin' up, so, I figured I missed it wanted to give ya somethin'. Here," and she moves the hide-wrapped box from under her arm onto his lap before she adds, "And this is whiskey. We're talkin' the good stuff from Bitra, darlin'. Figured ya shouldn' be a turn older without a bottle agin' right with ya and a pretty awesome lady like me to keep ya on yer toes like I do." She looks pretty smug, but she does use her shoulder to nudge him to unwrap it before saying, "Go on." "My father passed." It's a simple explanation and doesn't come with any further words, it also lacks a certain level of emotion. Not without prompting at the least. But perhaps there's something normal in that given the circumstances. "And Boreal has this way of trudging on and generating work for me even when I'm not at the Weyr. Go figure." When she mentions his turnday, Z'ian laughs and ducks his head. When he looks back at her again it's with raised eyebrows. "Really? You didn't need to get anything. I've got enough crap." It's amusement now that colors his tone and he reaches for the box. One finger slides underneath the paper and he begins to tear it off, curiosity taking him over as he pull the wrapper to the side. "You know, I would have been happy with the booze and beautiful woman?" Just in case she forgot. "Shit." That's the response Jo gives upon hearing that Z'ian's father had passed, the bluerider seeming to note the look on his face before she tacks on, "It's 'shit', right? Yer brothers came around?" Both of them, her expression seems to say. His response on turnsday gifts get a shoulder hitting his in quick answer along with a "Hey, I give useful gifts! Everyone needs booze, right? And...that thing, well, I saw it and thought ya would like somethin' like it. Shit, if ya don' want it, I'd take it and use it for my knives. They do need a better home than the one I've given them-" "Cheep." Yes, it was a chirp, coming from within her jacket where the box had been, and so Jo lifts a finger up and unfastens down the rest of her jacket and pulls a flap aside to reveal a little bronze firelizard curled up close to her clothing. "Gotten a gift myself," she gives in explanation as she starts to carefully remove her jacket and shifts the beast to the crook of her arm while doing so. Meanwhile, when Z'ian unwraps his, it's revealed to be a decent-sized rectangular box of polished reddish brown wood with a flying dragon carved on the lid's surface and compartments within. "For yer tools," she says when he sees it, getting her jacket free and making a nest of it on the ground. "Has a latch to keep it closed and everythin', for travelin'. Since ya like to work with yer hands." "It is shit, even if it's not the same sort of shit it would be for everyone else." Z'ian manages to grin now, something wry there as he glances over to her from his unwrapping. "Mal was already there with me. Couldn't find Alek, but when is that anything new? He showed up on his own accord afterwards." She bumps into his shoulder again and he responds in kind, pushing back against the impact. "I always need more booze, won't ever turn down booze." He's just about got it revealed when the cheep reaches his ears. The bronzerider draws his eyebrows together and stares over at her chest, eyes narrowing. When the firelizard is revealed, the 'brows go up. "Yeah? And who gifted you with that thing?" It might be possible that he's not so fond of the little creatures, even if he doesn't come right out and say it. Absently he pulls the rest of the wrapping off and lets it fall onto the floor. His expression isn't readable right away, but eventually he smiles and casts his gaze slowly her way. "I can always use more useful crap that I can put other useful crap in." He lifts the lid and takes a peak at the little compartments, clearly pleased with it even if he's using the word 'crap'. Carefully he puts it onto the floor by his feet and leans in towards her, "Thanks. It's great, really." He's taking care by the chin to drift his lips over her mouth. Teasing thing that he is. Brow lifting, "So Alek eventually showed up, huh?" Jo prompts shaking her head with that crooked smile of her lingering about. Once the bronze firelizard is transferred down to his makeshift nest, she straightens to answer him with, "His name's Mime. Got him a few days ago from one of my people. Hopin' to train him to be loyal enough to run messages for me." Clearly Mime was not going to be a pet. She watches his face when he reveals the toolbox, and his playful banter has her snorting. "Well, ya can put yer crap into that crap all ya want, then," she quips to that, chin lifting at him. "I didn' want get a anythin' stupid, but I'll take crap." Z'ian leans in and tries to land a kiss to his teasing one, her laughter easy and felt against those lips keenly. Murmuring, "So...I can get the very thing ya got of mine, holdin' it hostage, back?" It's said so enticingly, seeming to grab the perfect opportunity. She doesn't even need to name it. "And disappeared the next day." There's a pause from Z'ian as he contemplates those words. "I didn't like how he looked. He's into something. Again." And that just draws out a lengthy sigh from him and he's shifting focus away from it. Better to concentrate on the firelizard that's now nesting on the floor of his weyr. "They're good for that at least. I hear the bronzes and golds are better for training, the rest are kind of garbage. Not that I know from experience or anything." From one of my people doesn't even generate much of a reaction from him, but perhaps he's just adjusted to things like that now. He laughs just then at her return, "It's not actually crap. I meant it when I said it was great." The bronzerider more seriously presses his mouth against her, stealing a taste of her lips before he draws back slightly. "Oh that thing. I've been way too busy lately to consider what I'm going to do with that yet." He's smirking now, his smile for her crooked. "There's no way to find out without him knowin'?" Jo asks on Z'ian's brother, the underhand course seeming to be something she would suggest. She could tell it weighs on his mind enough that when he's shifting the focus, she seems willing to do as well. She casts a glance down at the sleeping little bronze on his words about their usefulness, meeting his gaze with a lopsided grin as she notes, "Ya don' care for them, do ya. What, a bunch of them stole yer food one time? Or, screeched so loud in yer ear that ya were deaf for a whole seven?" Yes, she has to tease about it. She does add more seriously, "I was hoping for a bronze or gold for that reason. Havin' one's goin' to make communicatin' a whole lot better, darlin'. With the Red Man-" and she pauses, having just realized she dropped a name and steals a look at him before she remarks, "He's, uh, one of the ones I work for. Don' really know his real name, and I never cared to ask. Anyway" She pauses again, returning to her train of thought with, "Since he's not a rider, it's been difficult gettin' a hold of him, so I'm hopin' havin' Mime will make things easier for me." Z'ian's response on her gift is given a more genuine smile now from her, and nods once before she's drawn into that kiss, it going heated when she deepens it before it slightly breaks. To his last there's a glint in her darks eyes as she breathes out against his mouth, "Ain' nothin' it can do for ya, Zach. It can' do what I can do, so, ya should pass it right on over to me, eh?" This game seems to be never getting old. "He usually just gets himself in deeper than he can pay back. Then I get to scoop him out of the fire." Whatever that entails. Z'ian scratches at his forehead before beginning to trail a finger up her leg absently. "No, not really. They make a lot of noise, they want you to feed them. They're in and out. They touch things they're not supposed to be touching. I already have children and a dragon, that more than fills my desire and limits to deal with all of those things." That she uses any sort of name when referring to one of her people does have him blinking. It's more in surprise than in alarm, just a mild shock that she let the name slip at all. At any rate, he clears his throat and nods his head. "Yes, getting him to run messages will make that a lot easier then. It's hard to keep in touch with people who don't have dragons." That at least he does know about and can agree with. The heat draws him back to her and he's cupping her face with his other hand, "It can't do what you can do, no. But it does something for me... and you aren't always around." His smile is wolfish and presses in again. "And then I have to go finding a less than worthy substitute. So not yet." Jo listens on his plight with his brother, leaning back on the couch as she gets more comfortable. "Ya ever get tired of bailin' out all the time?" she asks now, shaking her head at him with one of her little smirks in place. "Or yer all he's got in this world?" His answer on firelizards does have her giving into quiet laughter and countering with, "And they can make good little spies if ya train them right. Ya also seemed to have just described me and likened me to a firelizard, save for the whole feedin' me, bit, but I only allow that particular to happen when I'm in one of my moods." There's a quiet dark smirk for the man for his nod on the matter of naming one of the people she works for, and when he cups her face with those words to follow, there's a look that is openly teasing and faux-stern. Deadpan in his deliverance, "Is this yer way of tellin' me to be around more so that ya don' have to rely on the item that won' be named...and less than worthy substitutes?" Long finger crawl up the arm attached to the hand at her face, grazing him with the calloused pads of her fingers along with her nails. "Ya can even put it in the toolbox I've brought ya," she adds wryly. "And, ya call me a tease." Lifting the big bottle now, "Maybe I should just get ya drunk and see how ya feel about it later on?" she entices in hr husky tone, a brow lifting at him. "What did ya do on yer turnday, anyway?" "Yeah, sometimes." Z'ian answers, shrugging one of his shoulders and watching as she leans back into the couch. He follows that lean of hers, hand sliding along her face and fingers sinking into her hair. "I'm the only one that'll help him anymore. He's been burning a lot of bridges the last couple of turns." She has him laughing again then and shaking his head. "Yeah, well. I make exceptions for you because you're... you. And because I'm wildly attracted to you and because you don't randomly show up next to my ear and screech louldy to get my attention." He moves into her touch and the reaction to her question is another laugh, this one short. It's the nervous laugh. The one reserved for a man that's buying his time. Instead of an answer, he gives her another question. "What would you say if I told you something like that? That I wanted you around more?" He glances in the direction of the bottle and smiles crookedly. "Aren't we always trying to get each other drunk? I doubt you'll get my mind changed with a couple of drinks." That final question gets a little lift of his shoulders, "Spent it with some people that I didn't like. But I acted like I liked them really well. I'm good at that." "For his sake, he better not burn his with ya," Jo notes on burning bridges, the woman shaking her head. "Not that I can talk. I burned the bridge between me and mine just because I bought into what Deetan was sellin' me, darlin'. We all can fuck up well." His next does have her chuckling to herself as his fingers sink into her hair, her head tilting back to him as she drawls, "I could go up to yer ear and screech if ya like." She makes it sound as dirty as possible with the look she sends. "I think ya'll make plenty of exceptions when it comes to me." She's cocky in saying so, and her fingers stay on his arm when he asks the next, only going briefly silent as she studies his eyes. Her own narrowing a fraction before answering with a knowing little grin, "I'd say it could be arranged. Dunno by how much, but, some nights I'm just out. Me and Tac. Ya should come out with us sometime. See the world the way we do. Maybe even cause a little mischief before I get ya back in time to do yer wing drills." There's a little tease within those words, but she's eyeing him speculatively. "And, if ya need me, get Tac. I'll come once business is done." She then eyes the bottle and drops, "Yeah, we do," to them getting each other drunk. "Aren' we suppose to be each other's bad influence, there?" To the last, there's a shaking of her head as if he had spent the night of his turnday completely wrong and she slaps a hand briefly to his chest as she says, "Next turnday's on me if ya can still stand me a turn later, eh? We'll hit the Rusty Nail and have ya surrounded by people that will hit ya as much as look at ya. They'll probably hit on ya, too, and I ain' talkin' about just the barmaids," and she gives him a look. "He hasn't managed to do it quite yet. But I can't say that I've had as much time lately to go chasing him down." He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and gives the hair in his fingers a quick a little tug. "I wouldn't compare you to him. Probably ever. It's not the same thing, you take care of yourself." Z'ian lifts one eyebrow for that likely very dirty offer. Wolfish, sly again, "I'd prefer it not be a screech. But if you could make it something less high pitched then I could make yet another exception for you." He listens quietly to the response to his question and eventually laughs quietly, "Alright. So then I'm formally asking for you to be around me more." There's a smile there, a quirky little twist of his mouth. "And I know that you're out some nights and won't be in. I get that... that's just how it is." There's a pause where he takes a breath, "And I don't care. I have a primitive man-urge to want to lay some sort of claim on you. And thank you, for getting me so tied up in knots around you that I sound like I'm seventeen." It's all her fault, somehow, yes. He exhales slowly and manages to produce one of his smiles again. "I'll go out with you. I'd prefer to not get beat on. That's been happening enough lately, alright?" His free hand goes to touch the spot on his jaw where the traces of off-yellow remain, laughing when she slaps at his chest. "Who else are you talking about? If not just the barmaids?" To that little hair tug, "I try to," Jo agrees on taking care of herself, though there's more soberness to those words than there perhaps should be. "But even I have my off days, darlin'. I try not to be around when it happens, is all." Z'ian's answer on wanting her around more gets one of her rumbly laughs, the convict rider just regarding him from beneath lashes for a few moments before she drawls in jest, "Next ya'll be tryin' to make a decent woman outta me. Dunno if I'm even nice, or just, opportunistic." That smile bears teeth now, especially in light of his open admissions in regards to her. A long finger trailing up his leg, "It's natural to want to lay some sort of claim," she says on it. Apparently she doesn't seem to be discouraging him on claims, seeming to find it amusing. "Anyway, ya have sort of a claim," she notes, her fingers trailing playfully over his thigh. "Doesn' seem like I'm around a lot, but when I am, ya see me. I normally...don' do that, Zach. I'm willin' to. I enjoy ya. I enjoy makin' ya sound like yer seventeen again," she borrows deliberately, her smile completely cheeky. He agrees to go out, though when he notes about getting beaten up, eyes find that spot on his jaw she had noted before with brows furrowing. "So ya were in a fight," she says now, glancing at him. "Who was it? Someone from Boreal?" That last gets a wry and bold, "The men, of course! Man like ya with a cute ass? Ya might get pinched. Keep those fist handy, Wingleader." She must be joking. Must be. Z'ian's lips press together and there's another shake of his head. "It's different. Just trust me on this, I have the pleasure of knowing both of you. Your off days aren't his off days." There's an uncomfortable shift from him on the subject of his brother and he runs that free hand through his hair now. Her finger trails up his leg and he twitches there and the muscle tightens, unconscious reaction really. "A decent woman out of you? That'd mean that I'd have to be a decent man first. I'm not sure that's a road I want to go down just yet. It didn't work the first time, after all." He laughs and it's that self-deprecating humor that she's chided him for in the past sneaking out again. Also, it doesn't help that she's trailing that finger where she is. Distracting. "Do I?" There is some genuine surprise there. "I... Yeah, I bet that you do. You've got a claim too. I'd choose spending time with you before another woman. Honestly." Her questions earns her a short laugh and his eyes drifting to the ceiling. "Someone from Boreal? No. K'del decided to air his grievances in the living cavern. I got in between him and H'kon and when he lunged forward, I grabbed him. He's a strong bastard, did you know that? He slammed a fist right into the side of my face on accident. Then it just turned into a brawl. You didn't hear about this?" He asks with a lift of his eyebrows. Then there's a snort. "The men. I'll probably just let them pinch my ass and not fight back. As long as they don't grab anything else." Jo regards Z'ian on his response regarding Alek, the uncomfortable shift has her murmuring idly, "Now ya have me curious as to what an off day of his would be like." His leg twitching only seems to keep her finger playing there, teasing close and trailing circular paths that were perhaps meant to distract him after all. Z'ian's answer on being decent has that smile turning a shade darker and more sensuous as she says, "Then let's not be decent. I rather like the idea of us goin' out on the prowl every now and then. Havin' each other's backs when things get rough." His surprise upon hearing there was some sort of claim after all has her laughing and answering, "I don' linger, Zach, and yet here I am. With very few, I do. Time is a value, where I'm from. Especially who ya spend it with." Which seems to coincide with what Z'ian says next on her having a claim there, too - an admission that seems to please her. "Then I'll try to be around more. Trashed, bloody or not." She listens now upon hearing about what went down between K'del and H'kon, the convict rider not helping the light snort and the, "I heard a five second tale from a fellow clutchmate that could give a shit about what happens within this Weyr," says in a droll tone. "So K'del's goin' after H'kon now? Thought the two had an understandin'. And ya managed to get between them and get punched in the jaw." She's studying the jaw closely now, even while he responds on the quip about his ass getting pinched by men. "Yer gonna sit right there and let strange men pinch yer ass," she shifts her gaze to his, the question there even if it almost sounds rhetorical. "Now this I've gotta see to believe." "Not good." He's either intentionally clamming up on the subject of Alek or the finger on his leg is beginning to really drive him to distraction. Whichever one it is, he next allows himself to fall into that sensuous, dark smile that she's presenting him with. And lately he's been advancing and climbing on top of her at this point, but instead tonight he leans back and tries to bring her forward with him. "We could do that. I think that we'd make good partners outside of this place. I might have enjoyed going out with you catch S'varis. Possibly more than I should have, given the circumstances." The draw of his arms is meant to bring her on top of him. "Then we're clear on that much, at least." It seems to ease a certain tension out of his shoulders, a thing he might not have even been realizing was there himself. "K'del thinks H'kon killed Iolene." That comes out bluntly and with a sigh. "Because Azaylia found her necklace... on his ledge?" That last comes out as a question. As if he can hardly reconcile that piece of information with the idea of the brownrider being a murderer, a careless murderer at that. Who leaves evidence laying around. "Lucky me at any rate. K'del apologized after and H'kon thanked me the other day. Remind me to stay the fuck out of things, alright? Chalk it up to another reason I need you around more. Not just my own emotional neediness." That almost-rhetorical question brings his laughter back as he tucks one arm behind his head. "They can pinch it. But I'm not getting naked. And no reach arounds, if you know what I mean." Jo 'mmhms' to the first on his brother, seeming to let it rest when there's distraction to be given. Since Z'ian's drawing her forward, the wiry convict rider is straddling him with knees on either side of him in a sudden rush of movement. Arms come to rest about his neck as she answers on being partners in crime, "I think so, too," with that dark smile in place. "Whether it's Weyr business or not. Especially when it's not. Ya got a bit of a dark side to ya, doncha? Wantin' to hang with a girl like me." There's no shame there, either. "So yeah. We're clear on that much." Hips settle on the bronzerider with a toss of her wild hair as she turns to the more serious topic of K'del. To hear that about Iolene's murder has her lips pressing together, considering. "Somethin' ain' addin' up there, but H'kon seems the sort that he don' need any help in clearin' his name. I agree on ya stayin' the fuck outta things like that. If yer gonna get hit, make sure yer the one hittin' first, alright?" There' s an honor code even for sorts like her, it seems. With the last getting her laughter, she presses herself against him as she drawls, "So ya think ya want the other part of yer turnday gift?" With that look in her eyes and the way she says it, this part of his gift doesn't need an explanation from her. Z'ian shifts his body, pressing his hips up and against her when she gets settled down. "I might." He agrees, his smile turning crooked at her words. "I love hanging with a girl like you." He's running his hands up her body, palms heated and fingers gripping at her wherever they pass. The more serious topic slows him down, "It seems like a lot of bullshit to me. I just wanted to stop K'del from beating him senseless in public in the living cavern. They want to carry on like that in private, that's on them. But it's not good for the Weyr to brawl like that." He's firm on that, but then he's giving in to the feel of her body against him. Much more pleasent than the topic of murder accusations. "H'kon will fend for himself." His reach around her and draw her down close to him so he can take another long, deep kiss from her lips. "Yes.." With Z'ian meeting the wordless challenge, Jo doesn't seem to have many words left. "I can tell," she quips back to his hanging with her, that suggestive smile full of debauchery promises to come. She draws close to him even when there's the talk of K'del, the woman merely saying, "I suppose they both will fend for themselves, darlin'." But that was neither here nor there. With his last sealing the deal, the bluerider effectively ends conversation between them the rest of the night with her lips to his and a gaze that could make even a bronzerider blush. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Laying Claim"K'del (K'del (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:55:25 GMT.
These two are kinda adorable together. It's fun.
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