Logs:Promises, Promises
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| RL Date: 4 June, 2011 |
| Who: Devaki, Iolene |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iolene is upset, so Devaki scares the crap out of her, but then kinda makes her feel better. Then she extracts a promise from him. |
| Where: Caves, Western Island |
| When: Day 8, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tomaeran/Mentions |
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| There are many passages in this system of caves and many little caves. Some of them even lead towards other offshoots. And when your Gran is the master of the keys and the stores, aka the defacto headwoman type, in time a girl can get to learn these caves pretty well. They become her playground. Her domain -- well as much as any public property can be any one person's. Not that Iolene's done a fantastic job at hiding her whereabouts - those who know her, for one, could suss out all her solitary hiding spots one by one and those who don't? The flickering of glows deep within a particular passage and the sounds of sniffling echo in this particular empty cave system. Iolene is not the only one who claims dominion -- as much as anyone can -- over the caves. Devaki's well known for his love of exploring the caves that others have long since abandoned, reminding too many of the Turns spent forced to huddle in here for fear of the Thread that could fall at any moment. Devaki has a reed-wrapped, though unlit, torch in one hand, a fast-fading glow in the other. He's moving with a particular purpose through the caves, so it's a happy accident rather than any intentional seeking out that causes him to note the flicker of someone else's glow, much brighter than his. Carefully shielding his glow, he sneaks closer to the source of that light. Sneak, sneak. His intention is obvious: to scare the heck out of whoever might be exploring in /his/ caves. Hunter-trained, if Headwoman-bred, Iolene's sixth sense entirely fails her and were she in a right frame of mind, would likely be horribly embarrassed. As it is, Devaki's mindhealing sneaking works like a charm and the young fishing girl remains happily oblivious in her tiny little alcove for when he does come upon the person to scare, Dev'll find a closet-sized cave with a pool of water puddling along one of its walls and Iolene's lean back. The girl's arms are wrapped about her legs and her chin rests heavily against her knees - as if the weight of the world might sit upon her shoulders and that charming little chin of hers. She is, to her future relief, not crying anymore, but all the signs are there in the sniffling, the damp, red rim about her eyes and the nervous habit Io has of chomping at the end of her long hair when troubled. The hair is still steadfastly in her mouth being chewed quite vigorously. Mindhealer or not, Devaki is still, really, a boy, and so he leaps out, doing his best sea-monster impression, that is to say, a high pitched sort of screeching noise, complete with upraised arms. Only belatedly does he seem to realize who it is, and what state she's in. He has the grace to look embarrassed as his arms drop, quickly taking in Iolene and the room with an exhale of breath. "Oh." A little squirm and a sheepish rub of hand against his hair, before Dev quickly says, "Sorry, Io, I didn't know you were... sorry." Predator or not, Iolene is also of her gender and lets out an unholy shriek. But that's not all, she's all about having instinct kick in and turns, scrambling off her bottom and to her feet, foot accidentally knocking her basket of glows over and presses herself into the wall, never mind her feet are now soaked in that little puddle. "Who is it? Who are you? I'm gonna kill you!" Which is likely the most harmless and amusing threat ever from an all too skinny girl like Io, without the assistance of her knives, hooks, or tridents. Those dark eyes of her dart back and forth, making out first the shape that isn't a sea-monster and then recognizing the voice that accompanies it. A decidedly petulant turn claims her features, eyes turning all glowery and her lip pressing thin. "Don't think I won't," she adds, though it's about as lame as his sheepish apology. Though he does his best to hide it, there's an unbidden smile that creeps up on Devaki's face at the reaction he gets. And a hint of satisfaction at the reaction, no matter the timing was awkward in another sense. He does, however, take her threats seriously, lame or not, hands held upwards as if in surrender. He sets aside his unlit torch and the glows, leaping to catch some of the glows rolling out from Iolene's basket. "You shouldn't be creeping around in the caves by yourself, Io. What if something happened?" Which could apply to him as well, but it's different, because she's a /girl/. Pointedly, he's making no effort to draw attention to her state, though it'd be hard for him to have missed it. In her current mood, melancholy sorrow turned to petulant indignation, Iolene doesn't seem to be quite open to the implication that her gender should make it any different for her than for him. So one of those brows just lifts and her crossed-arms do a remarkable impression of her grandmother. Add to that the tap of her toe and the sudden, expectant silence as she stares patiently at Devaki. It's unspoken, but oh so clear in every little tweak of her body language and expression: 'And /you/ could take any better care of yourself than /me/? Really?' If silence had a pause, it would hit one now, and then resume in the shift of her chin that jerks forward to further emphasize her incredibly silent, '/Really/?' Devaki's well used to the tactic that's being used on him. This doesn't, of course, mean he's immune to it. As he straightens from collecting the glows, he offers the basket towards her, in the way that one might present a wary peace offering. As he waits, he shifts and fidgets under that look, and as he realizes he's doing it, his brows draw down into a faint scowl. "Don't you dare use your Gramps look on me, Iolene! You were the one creeping around here, and I bet if I told Gramps she'd get upset." That threat is dangled for a beat, and then he retracts it, offering conciliatory tone: "But I suppose if I don't tell, you won't. Unless you'd like to be stuck on child-watching duties?" He tips his head, contemplating, a single brow lifted in patient expectation of her response. Calculation narrows and darkens Iolene's blue eyes and her head tilts once more, in the other direction as she considers Dev's offer. It's the threat of watching children that finally does the girl in and with a toss of her (chewed-up) blonde hair, the teenager grudgingly agrees: "Truce then. But watch your back. You never know, I might sic Rilka on you for some of your sessions." It's not that her anger dissipates just like that, it's not truly gone as those who know her well would recognize in the physical stand-offishness. It's just that it no longer manifests in her face and a slow semblance of a smile plays about the corners of her mouth, presumably at the image of Rilka nattering at Devaki about one crazy thing or another. "What are you doing down here anyway?" Enough with her. What about him? "You're not meeting a girl, are you?" It's part-Iolene tease, part-teenage jealousy, part-rumpled-pride snideness. "You never know. I might enjoy that," Devaki response with casual contemplation, a smile quirking his lips at the idea of mind healing Rilka. Of course, it's mostly a front, as he steps closer -- though not quite in her personal space -- in order to set the glowbasket down, equidistant between them. At her latter accusation, his mouth opens, then closes, something fleeting across his expression like a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I was, actually," he admits, affecting casual shrug of shoulder. "There are few places where you can get enough privacy to -- well, you know. Right?" A mocking brow rises, seeking further examination of her intriguing jealousy. "You're an awfully bad liar," returns Iolene, allowing him his steps forward. It's not like she can take anymore steps back, what with the wall behind her. "There isn't a girl in camp who would come down here to meet you alone. Well-," a long pause brings silence from Io once more as the mental calculations of all the likely girls in the settlement send her chin bobbling in count to one way for yes to the other way for no. Caught in a fact she can probably prove otherwise with a long list of names, Iolene shakes her head. "Well, never mind. Just make sure you don't bring her here." Cause this is her cave, you see, complete with a foot tap that's graduated to more stomp-level. A very splashy stomp. But that smile will venture a little more, pronouncing itself more deeply about her bemused eyes. "I wouldn't want to come down here and accidentally get an eye full of your white bottom." "But, Io," Devaki counters, his voice full of teasing laughter, "She's already here." He gestures indolently towards her, lowering his voice, "And alone, with me. What /would/ Gramps say?" He retreats a step back, ostensibly to give her room, but more than likely to make any attempt at punishment -- he knows how good she is with her knee after all -- a little more difficult. "Don't worry. I wouldn't bring another girl to your cave," he allows her claim of ownership to stand, with a faint nod of concession. Her latter comment earns a roll of eyes. "Come on, Io. How do you know it's white unless you've seen it? I wondered who that was lurking in the bushes the other day when I was bathing." Of course, he's completely making that up, judging by the dramatic drawl with which it's delivered. This return works its magic and what remains of Io's pride-wounded anger dissolves. Her head bows, only to try and mitigate the shaking of her shoulders, but in the end, such minute measures fail and the blonde's sunshine face lifts up to the ceiling to release a bubbly laughter to the ceilings. "Does that work on anybody, Dev? Really? I'd like to meet a girl that works on and give her a nice smack upside the head." He might take a step back, but now Iolene takes a step forward, bringing her bare feet out of the little puddle. Devaki is evidently pleased with the laughter from the girl, grinning in return as he leans a shoulder against the cave wall, painting a picture of casual lounge. "Not yet," he laughs in concession, "But one day, when it does, I'll know I've found the woman I'm destined to marry." His flippant tones are obvious, even as he watches her take a step forward. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't slap my future-wife-to-be. Whoever that may be." Iolene's, "I pity you. You more than her," is only half-teasing. "You don't need a girl that falls for your charms so easily. You'd get bored. I know you. Anybody who knows you even a little would know that. You need a girl who'll keep you on your feet. Not only have you guessing, but have you at her beck and call. Jumping at her whims." Now, the half-tease blossoms into full out mocking, of the good-natured kind, and another few steps brings Io and her deadly knees all the closer to Devaki. She reaches out with a hand to curl her fingers up by one of those unkempt locks of hair to try and brush it into place in what is most likely futility in and of itself. "How are you?" It's such a simple question, but laden with a sudden renewed disheartenment that traces itself through her velvet voice. Devaki's brows rise, a grin appearing that only increases throughout Iolene's description of his future relationship. "I hope you aren't intending to play matchmaker, Iolene. You wouldn't be the first, and here I am--" he trails off, but the unspoken, 'still unmarried', is fairly obvious to the observant girl. He doesn't move as she comes closer, grinning down at her, though the grin fades, and he sobers at her question. "I am tired, but otherwise can't complain. And you," he reaches out with the intention of brushing a thumb over her cheek where the obvious traces of her earlier mood are still obvious, "Don't seem your normal cheerful self. Is Gramps okay?" Her cheek is sticky with dried tears beneath his finger, and when he moves to touch her face, her hand at his drops to gently guide it away, though unless effort is made on his part, Iolene won't drop the finger-tip grasp she has of his hand. "He's fine. Grams too. They're both fine." But she's not fine; it's all too heavily laden in her rolled shoulders if not in her carefully neutral face and the smooth fabric of her voice. "I don't... I haven't seen much of you around since- since Kima and those girls. Been kept busy? Have a lot of people come to talk to you?" Devaki lets her guide his hand away, and instead he offers a faint, encouraging smile. His expression drops as she finally speaks, and he exhales a sigh. "Everyone's struggling with it, because it feels like we went through all that, with Thread -- and we made it. And we'd all had enough grief to last a lifetime, that we shouldn't have had to face anymore." He pauses to run his free hand over his head, though his expression is controlled. "In one sense, it's irrational, in another -- it's hard for people not to feel that way. Were you close with them?" he asks, gently. "Me? Close with them?" The question catches Iolene off guard and the succession of blinks should be answer enough, a telltale sign that no, she wasn't. But she gives the physical the weight of verbal with a quiet, "No. But I didn't dislike them. I just... I just feel stupid for feeling so upset since we weren't close at all. I don't have a right to. Not when Tom's walking around camp like-" Well, like how he is. "You shouldn't feel stupid," Devaki says, quickly, shaking his head to back up the words. "It affects everyone, when we're such a small group. It's not wrong for you to feel upset, Io," he adds, with a reassuring smile. Pointedly, he avoids the subject of his cousin. "You're a good person, Iolene. Don't ever think otherwise." He reaches up as if to brush her hair, the gesture comforting rather than anything else. Exhaling, he finally answers her question of earlier, "I've been quite busy, yes. Haven't gotten out fishing for a couple of weeks. It's odd -- I kind of miss it," he admits, with a shift of shoulders. The one hand she holds, at first by mere fingertips, becomes, at once, a full grip as her fingers slide down to clasp tighter. It's a squeeze that asks for, accepts, and is relieved at his reassurances, further enunciated by the tip of her lean frame forward so her brow might rest her weary load of sadness and guilt because of the sadness. "You should come out with me sometime. I promise," the smile shifts Iolene's features enough so that they might be felt beneath his shirt, "I won't kill you. This time." Ever so gently, like he's sure she may balk at any moment, Devaki's free hand brushes against Iolene's hair, even as his other hand clasps hers. There's nothing more than careful, gentle reassurance in the gesture, however -- he has his professional face on, a slight mask over his normally open expression. Her words do elicit a low laugh from him, however: "Only because you promise not to kill me." A pause, and he adds, "I'd like that. I doubt I can compete with your trident skills -- but I'll try not to be a burden." Solace of a variety that has very little to do with being alone and everything to do with being petted relaxes her frame until a little sigh escapes. It's the kind of solace that makes it easier to smile again, genuinely rather than quick flashes to present a semblance. The smile into his chest deepens and slowly, she draws herself back, away at his words. Her hand frees from him so that she might push just the tips of her fingers against his chest, as if to actually push him away, but failing to put strength into the action. "What?" Iolene finds the temerity to look up, "No warning of the dangers of fishing with a man this time?" The gentle push Devaki receives doesn't really do so much with the wall behind him -- and the mindhealer just grins down at her, anyway, letting hands fall back to his sides. "That all depends on /which/ man you're fishing with. I wouldn't, for example, recommend doing so with Xoami. More for his sake, than yours," he adds, a teasing thread sneaking into his voice. "And for my sake, you're safer to fish with than Xoami -- I normally end up with something bloodied, when we go out." Although he's to blame as much for that as Xoami is, anyway. Io listens to Devaki intently, following his logic as it stands with men, that deep smile just digging itself more into place as it stretches to catch the lines about her eyes and elicits a wrinkle of her nose. "Promise me something, Dev." "Anything," Devaki says without hesitation, as he looks down at her. This despite all logic -- and his training -- suggesting that's probably a bad idea. He's a guy, she's a cute girl. It's hard to refuse that sort of imploring request. Quickly spoken, with the fleeting notes of a tease tangled in what might be a truth; "Don't be stupid. Get married soon. Or else I might just have to fall in love with you myself. And then where would we be?" Pragmatic Iolene. Sea-monster-wannabe Devaki. It's not a match made in anyone's version of heaven. "If there's anything I learned from what happened to Tom's sister -- nothing's for certain. Nothing's gonna last. We're not owed happiness and we should be as nice to each other as we can. Cause if we don't... nothing else will." Io could have been an emo-teen if she had the luxury to be. And then, a quick smile and a brush of her knuckles against his chin, "Just make sure I don't have to get married to Xoami, mmkay? For both our sakes," where just who both refers to is left vague. Devaki's brows flicker upwards at Iolene's first words, and just stay there through her speech, a mixture of surprise and amusement creeping across his expression in turn as she speaks. After she finishes, he's silent, contemplating her words and watching her a moment. "Maybe you're right," he finally concedes, brows dropping. He shakes his head abruptly, laughing. "You're such a surprise sometimes, Io. Don't worry, I wouldn't let the elders inflict you and Xoami on each other." There's something else in his expression as he looks at her, however. Something more... demonstrative that definitely wasn't there before, and it is this that elicits the motion to lean forward and give the girl a chaste kiss on the top of her head. "Good. That's all I'm really worried about." For his kiss to the top of her head, there's a bemused quirk to her lips and those expressive eyes of hers lift, practically rolling into their lids as they try to peer up at what he's doing. "I'm only a surprise cause you still think I'm the ten year old girl that would tag along with you and Xo up the cliff. I'm a /very/ old sixteen. Even grams says so." There's a moment where those dark eyes shadow even more for just a flicker of her lashes; a recollection of just why she, and likely many others on the island, gave grown up all too quickly. "Will you be okay if I leave you in this dark cave alone?" There's definitely a hint of truth in the girl's accusation, and it earns a low laugh from Devaki. Shaking his head anew, this time in mute acknowledgement of his surprise, he reaches past her to gather up her glow basket. "I wouldn't presume to inhabit your cave without you present. Can I escort you out, instead?" he queries, a quirk of brow given, and a jut of his elbow in the most courtly (and very un-Dev-like) gesture. "I'm not ten anymore," is her final assertion, as if the extended elbow he presents is due to his perception of her age, or lack thereof. But Iolene does take it, slipping her hand about his elbow, at first elegant, and then continuing the motion to slide it in all the more chummily. "Admit it, Dev. You're scared of the dark. But it's ok, I'll keep your secret." His delighted laughter is definitely genuine. "You got me," Devaki concedes, with good humor, as he begins leading the way back out of the caves, with the sure step of one overly familiar with the twists and turns. "And you'd better keep it a secret," he adds, with a lock, mock-growl of warning, "Or you'll ruin my manly reputation." "What reputation?" is her last barb before she settles into a more amiable chit-chat with him. In spite of her insistence that she's no longer ten, Iolene clings to Devaki's arm much like a younger sister might to an older brother and her prattle tends towards teasing, fond, and superficial, forgetting for at least a little while, the sadness of just minutes earlier. And when they part towards their various ways, there's a renewed lightheartedness to her step as she heads off to whatever she does at this hour; likely eat. |
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