Logs:Talien Hates N'thei
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| RL Date: 13 June, 2008 |
| Who: Talien, N'thei |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 9, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
| With dinner come and gone, the majority of the kitchen staff is off for the night; there are just a few dishwashers lined up, scraping pots and pans, and a couple of cooks kneading dough for the morning. And N'thei, leaning with his hips against a countertop most of the way toward the lower cavern, his attention divided between watching a pretty girl with a damp blouse drying plates and the late supper he's working his way through. Food and female-- what more is there. A somewhat late Talien is what's more, and haphazardly announced by the off-beat tap-tap of her cane. "Anyone in front of the door best move," is the warning she gives moments before entering through said door. Thankfully it's without incident, allowing the bluerider to venture further into the kitchen. The path she takes carries her toward the bronzerider whose presence she is, for the moment, ignorant of. N'thei lets Talien get a lot closer than he should, given that he has sight and she hasn't and he's perfectly aware she's closing in on him. Nothing gives him away though, not a shuffle nor an exhale, he even stops chewing while she draws nearer and nearer. Indeed, he says and does so much of nothing that he may well intend for her to crash right into him rather than issue warning. That distracted by damp-shirted burnettes? Doubtful. Talien has months worth of previous visits in which she'd bitten the head off anyone offering even the slightest bit of help to thank for the lack of any warning of her impending crash. That she relies less and less on the cane when she finds the counter is just another feather in that hat, and unless given some indication, the crash will be inevitable. As inevitable as the explicative that'll follow along with a hasty apology. Much as he might enjoy the inevitable discord, N'thei won't enjoy wearing the remnants of his casserole. So he slips the bowl off to one side, the scrape of it on the counter just audible, and promptly reaches out to clamp his hands across Talien's shoulders, just shy of arm's length. "Watch where you're going." Irony thick-as-cream in his voice, the smirk audible for the visually impaired, hands folded sternly across her collarbones. Startled, Talien stops just after the hands touch her shoulder. She's less quick with the retort that follows N'thei's cautionary advice. "Novel idea. I don't know why I didn't think of that myself." An attempt then at jerking free of his reach, before she hazards a somewhat sweeter statement. "I'm glad I almost ran into you though, saves me the trouble of having to track you down." N'thei makes sure, inimitably, that Talien realizes that he /releases/ her shoulders, not that they're torn from him. When she jerks, his fingers twitch a hair tighter, then loosen all at once and his hands draw away, arms folded across his chest with the quiet whisper of fabric. Bland; "Lucky me." "Glad you realize it," Talien's tone remains pleasantly sweet - tight and fakely sweet, but sweet. An attempt at hiding any discomfort from N'thei's actions, no doubt. Less subtle is the half step she takes, placing the counter against her back and her cane just before her. "How've you been?" "Hate those questions, how-are-you questions." N'thei sounds informative rather than cross, presenting facts for Talien's edification. Once she's all leaned, he reaches over to pluck the cane between his three fingers, to experiment with the weight of it in one hand, merely something to keep himself occupied while time passes. "What do you want." To her sickly sweetness, he's bluntly bland. Talien's reactions continue to be relatively priceless. There's surprise that he's actually brazen enough to pluck the cane away, a moment of fumbling as she tries to cover that fact before ultimately stuffing her hands under her arms. A breath later, "Yeah, 'cause you'd have to go all deep and stuff. Tell folks how messed up you really are." Another breath and then, "I want all kinds of things, though I'll settle for one. An apology. I think you'll be able to manage that." N'thei teeters it on his finger, takes the steadiness of it into consideration like there's anything interesting about how balanced a blind girl's cane is. "Hardly need to tell you how messed up I really am, neh? You're the expert." No sooner do the words an-apology exit Talien's mouth than he snickers derisively, arranges so he can tap-tap-tap the cane against the floor in a mockery of its usefulness. "An apology for what?" Talien slides a crooked smile toward his remark on her being an expert. The cant of her head gives the overall expression a certain amount of humbleness. "You can take your pick, really. For costing me my bucket and pole, for you being you... for all the lousy things you're likely to do. I dunno, really, what sounds good?" The mocking tap-tap-tap gains a further cant of Talien's head in its direction and the tiniest tick of one cheek. To it, she offers an official-sounding 'by the by' comment. "Good thing you're not the blind one. You suck at that." "Talents lie in other directions, suppose." N'thei taps along though, like there's music behind the clatter, like he's not just chasing bumps in the floor. Then he swings the stick all the way back around and tosses it with a roll and a tap onto the counter space next to his half-finished casserole. Arms refold. "Do you believe I'm likely to apologize, or you're just trying to make conversation?" "Be careful with that." Talien doesn't try to reclaim the cane or even find it, just stresses those words through tight teeth and a small frown. "Shanlee gave it to me and much as I'd like to see her throttle you for breaking it, I'd rather -keep- it." To his later question she waits a moment before replying, "Trying to make a point... probably doin' a bad job at it too, but there you have it." N'thei's slow smile shows in his sloooow voice; "See her?" Mmn. Moving along without pause, without any further interest in the cane-- "Depends on what point you're trying to make." "Mmhm - you don't think I forgot what you look like? Figure I can imagine well enough what it'd look like if Shan knocked you right in the face. Every time I picture it it makes me smile." A bright, bright toothy smile like the one Talien offers him. "The point though is that I really don't like you. Hate you, actually, and that was before 'the incident'." After air quoting it for effect, Talien drops her hands to her side, "So it doesn't matter what you do or don't do. I still won't like you." With the same amused trick in his voice, "You know what I looked like, but it's been four turns since you saw anything, neh?" Four turns, a week in jail, so many fistfights. N'thei lets her say her piece after that, the whole hate-not-like part passing without interruption, even a good ten seconds afterward in silence. "And?" "A'son let me see him and he hadn't changed that much. He /didn't/ say to say hi, by the way." Talien remarks with a faint shrug, "'sides, knowing you? I'd say you never change. Can't... I think you couldn't even if you wanted to." Another shrug now, somewhat deeper than the last. "And nothing, I guess. I just wanted to prove a point." "Good." Good that A'son let her see? Good that he can't change? Good that she's proving a point? N'thei adds like it's an afterthought; "Do you feel better now?" Baiting. Talien considers that question for a short while. There's no real punch to her answer either, just bland honesty. "No, just still feel all kinds of sorry for you." Pushing forward along the counter, Talien heads toward the area she'd heard her cane hit, "Don't suppose you feel any better after all the fun you've had?" Flat palm comes down across the end of the cane nearest himself, the sound of his hand hitting the counter dulled by the bridge of the wood in between. "Do you. Good for you." Then N'thei scrapes with that same hand, shoves the cane across the countertop in Talien's direction, just enough that it slides over without rolling off the edge. "I'm not sorry for anything, and you'd hate me more if I was. Don't kid yourself." Talien clasps her hand loosely about her cane, not yet pulling it off the counter. "You're the one kidding yourself. 'till you stop, I guess... well, this is it. Thanks, by the way." If for the cane she lifts off the counter or the pleasure of another encounter is his decision. "Oh be fair, at least I've got the courtesy to tell you where you lie to yourself." N'thei derides her certainty with a doubtful drawl; not that she can see it, but he waves aside Talien's gratitude with a turn of his fingers. There's no real effort made to stop if she's bent on departure, none but the prompting remark. "You are the expert on lying, aren't you?" Talien asks rhetorically. She moves to leave, too, only doesn't quite finish the start. "One last thing, though. Do you like what you're doing now? Weyrleading and all... is it what you thought it was?" N'thei kens to one-last-thing, a clipped chuckle that mocks her for delaying. Then the sound of his bowl again, of his spoon again, the casserole cold and congealed, seems fitting under the circumstances. "Why don't you ask A'son. He'll give you an honest answer." That's an insult the way he says it. "That's what I love about you, N'thei," Talien continues now, turning her back to him and approaching the door. "Even when you don't answer me, you still end up answering me." Echoed; "Love about you." Then, at more volume than the mockery of laughter, N'thei contributes, "Put that next to all the things you hate about me and see which pile is bigger. --Night." So friendly in conclusion. False but friendly. Talien's still feeling -- or just plain acting -- amicable enough to offer a little wave in reply, before continuing on her way out. Tap-tap-tap. If it wasn't too far to walk, he'd probably trip her. C'est la vie. |
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