Logs:Breaking In
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 13 June, 2014 |
| Who: Lilah, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilah tries to break into R'hin's weyr to reclaim her wine, but needs some help. They do a deal. |
| Where: R'hin's weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions |
 |
| Some time after Lilah parts ways from High Reaches' newly (re)confirmed Weyrleader, she runs into a chatty bluerider who (with no small amount of knowing and suggestive smirking) points her in the direction of R'hin's ledge, high above the lake. The ledge is large -- comfortably large enough for two bronzes, though at the moment appears to be empty. From the ledge there is a short passageway, leading to two doors -- both locked. It should be noted that Lilah is not as polite as she should be at suggestive smirks, but she doesn't go out of her way to disabuse the bluerider of why she might want to visit R'hin's ledge. Eliyaveith is now as large as a bronze (yet still not as large as Leiventh) and that ledge certainly leaves enough room for her to comply with her rider's wish. The gold won't intrude on the bronze dragon's weyr, however, nor does she leave when Lilah tries to convince her that she's too conspicuous. No, that wouldn't be right. If her rider is visiting the weyr, she should be here, on the ledge, and that is where the gold stretches out in the cold, crisp High Reachian air. "Fine," is exhaled aloud, before the goldrider turns to stride with booted heels into the weyr. It doesn't seem to be arousing any particular attention, and certainly the owner isn't anywhere in sight. Given the hour people are likely to be busy with dinner. The passageway itself is dark enough to incite all those night-terrors that rational people put away once they're no longer children. The solid wooden doors stand as silent sentinels on either side of the passageway. Well, Lilah was warned. It doesn't stop the annoyance that pulls at her lips. She glances between the doors, thoughtfully, and then reaches to try the knobs, wiggling them. It'd be really silly to try to pick them if they are already unlocked. But when the doors do not give, she reaches into red-gold hair to draw out the pins that keep it up. With two, she settles herself in front of one of the doors, squinting in the dark to try to... use hairpins to somehow pick the lock of a door in the dark. She could have planned this better. Picking a lock is not easy, even when one has experience. When one doesn't, it's nigh impossible. After several failed attempts, Lilah probably feels a sudden draft of warm air from nowhere, rather than hears the silent door opposite the one she's crouched in front of open. From behind, comes the familiarly amused voice, "Honestly. If you're going to do it, at least do it right." R'hin's standing in the open doorway of the other weyr, shirtless, hair ruffled as if he's just woken up. Laughing. At her. Seated on the floor as she is, Lilah's dark eyes have a long way to slide (over a bare chest that she might linger on a bit) before they meet R'hin's. "It isn't my fault that you couldn't have a normal weyr like everyone else," she answers, not even with a hint of shame for being caught red-handed. Instead, she moves slowly to push herself to her feet, wiping at her trousers to dislodge any dust from rock. "I just came by to get my bottle of wine." R'hin continues to regard the redhead for a moment, before he strides forward to cross the distance between them in a seeming heartbeat, reaching for her hands. Not to grab them, but to guide them, and the hair pins in her hand, back towards the lock. "You want to force the tumblers flat against the surface at the top," his tone is distracted, eyes half closed, "Concentrate on the sensation -- you have to do them one by one, slowly, feeling each one click into place before pushing the pin in further. Once all the tumblers are flat at the top you gently turn like it's a key," he starts to twist her right wrist, slowly. "Until you hear a..." Click. Lilah's lips part on a protest that never gets voiced as R'hin draws closer, and for once the goldrider falls silent to listen, to let R'hin guide even if it's unlikely she really understands what he is trying to communicate the first time. It's only after the lock slides back with that click that she murmurs a dismissive, "Of course you would know how to do this. I am not even going to be surprised." She does try to draw her hands back, a little too quickly now that the demonstration is done. "Not that it wouldn't be a handy skill to have, obviously." With a knowing sort of chuckle that appears to accept the accusation, R'hin uses a bare foot to push the door open before he releases Lilah's hands. It's dark and cold inside. He seems to be watching her expectantly, like, what's next? It's easier to retreat into that dark room than attempt to brush past R'hin, and so that is where Lilah goes, even if she feels a bit like a mouse being led into a trap. "You could just tell me where the wine is, since you are here," she replies to his silence, moving to trace the walls with fingertips to try to find a glowbasket to uncover. Anything, to shed some light into the room. "And ruin all the fun?" R'hin replies, leaning against the doorway. Her fumblings lead her to accidentally -- fortuitously -- find a glowbasket to one side, although there's a near-miss with the table it's sitting on, too. "Besides," the bronzerider adds, while knowing pale eyes track her movements into the oval-shaped room, "I'm curious to see if you're really here for the wine." Lilah neatly pulls back the cover of the glow, once she has fumbled her way to the edge of it. Yet still, it takes a moment for her dark eyes to adjust to the light source, but her gaze slides around the room briefly to take in her surroundings before returning to R'hin. "What else do you think I would have come for?" she questions, challengingly. The weyr itself is cold, pristine -- and to the naked eye, largely unlived in. It has furnishings -- a bed, table and chairs, sideboards, trunks and wardrobes, but there's nothing much that's personal about the place. When the Fortian looks at him, R'hin's grin widens, pushing away from the door to close the distance between them. With a lift of his thumb, he seeks to brush it against the redhead's chin. "Breaking in to sneak into my bed and seduce an innocent bronzerider? You could have asked." Pale eyes glitter, like he knows what sort of reaction that will get, and quickly, he's moving past her -- though not without accidentally brushing against her as he moves towards the wardrobe towards the back. "I think you are far from innocent in anything, ever," Lilah replies dryly, though she doesn't pull away from that casual contact. Instead, she stills, as if expecting--. But then he is brushing past her, and she retreats to one of those chairs, settling herself into it without waiting for permission. "Though, if that were the plan, I would have asked. I wouldn't want to try to seduce a man and accidentally catch him in bed with someone else." "Me?" R'hin manages to hit the perfect affronted tone at her accusation. With a noise at the back of his throat that sounds like stilted laughter, the bronzerider is digging into his closet, pulling out a shirt and pulling it on. He's halfway through buttoning it up when he looks over at where Lilah's seated herself, halfway between amusement and mocking. "Forget why you were here already? I mean, I can understand, seeing me half-naked and all -- well, you need a moment to recover. Here, while you do, I'll stoke up the hearth, shall I?" Lilah meets mocking with a sharply curved brow, annoyance written in her expression as ever when faced with it. She answers flatly, "I thought it might be a little rude to rifle through your things while you're standing right there." No word on how rude it would be if he weren't there. "While you do that, you might as well fetch me a glass of wine as well. I need to drink after seeing you half-naked, too." "I won't complain," R'hin assures her over his shoulder, before he bends down to tend the hearth. "Especially since it means I get to watch you bend over and crawl around while you're at it." Such a permissive gentleman, this one. "Oh, no. You don't get it that easily. You have to work for it," he grins at that last. "Why would I be crawling around? Did you hide it under something?" Lilah counters lightly, though she does push herself to her feet with an escaped sigh. "It's rude not to offer your guests a drink, you are aware, I hope." Even as she says it, though, she crosses the room to one of those trunks to open it and rifle through for the bottle. "I've offered you a drink. The bottle is yours. If you can find it." R'hin's definitely laughing at her again, and in between bringing the hearth to a state where it begins to take the chill off the weyr, he glances over his shoulder to watch Lilah search. The trunks don't contain any bottles, though they do have various clothes -- some well-to-do, and others rattier and entirely un-rider like. Lilah mutters something in turn that is hardly more than a whisper and is certainly not something that a goldrider would be expected to say. She moves on to the sideboards with annoyance building, though at least she is warmer. "I am not sharing if I find it," she warns. The sideboards prove both more and less fruitful in a way. This is definitely where R'hin keeps his alcohol stash -- from liqueurs to wines, to bottles that aren't even labeled. Finding the exact bottle might be difficult though. "Now that's not very friendly," R'hin's murmuring near her ear, his bare feet having carried him over towards her. He reaches past her for a couple of wine glasses, setting them on the sideboard while she peruses the contents. "There's no point having wine if you're drinking solo. Then you're just a drunk." "You will know when I decide to be friendly," counters Lilah, a dry suggestion to the word 'friendly' even as she turns into that murmur and into his presence near her. But it is only to lift her gaze to his, apparently, before she shift back to grab the bottle she was eyeing. It is open and it is white, though whether it is the bottle from the other night--. Well, it may be. She pulls the cork off with a pop, pouring out both glasses despite her threats. "Really," R'hin drawls, apparently disbelieving. His lips twitch upwards into a smile, however, when she secures the bottle -- perhaps suggesting it's the right one, or at least that he approves of her choice -- reaching for one of the glasses once she's poured. Lifting his as if in toast, "To... hm. Why did you come all the way for this little bottle of wine, anyway?" He tilts his head down, pale eyes flickering to her brown ones, inquisitively. Lilah lifts her glass to her lips before answering, though she doesn't settle for one small sip but rather gulps back half the glass, only inhaling a breath as she lowers it. "I've had a shitty sevenday, and I've already consumed the only bottle of alcohol I had in my weyr," she answers dismissively, meeting his gaze with a restless energy. "Besides, I was here to offer my congratulations to your Weyrleader, anyways. Seemed fitting, since I told him that I would keep my fingers crossed for him to win." "Hm." It's a noncommittal noise that R'hin makes as he regards her -- and her gulping of the wine -- with only a little wince. The bronzerider walks towards the couch -- which is best placed to soak up the heat from the hearth, and settles down, taking a small, appreciative sip of his wine. "What could possibly drive a Fortian goldrider to drink?" he muses aloud, eyes going towards the ceiling. "A weyrling one at that. Surely the pressure hasn't gotten to you already?" The mention of K'del has him chuckling briefly, though for now he doesn't pursue that excuse. "Yes, I am so delicate that I have already started to crack under the pressure of shadowing wings and taking messages to Holds," Lilah counters to those questions, hitching her hips against the sideboard rather than following R'hin to the couch. Her gaze does, though, even as she lifts her wine again. "You know how us goldriders are." R'hin's head cocks, as if to imply do I? "Tell me," he invites, in between savoring sips of the cool liquid. "And, just maybe I'll send you on your way with another unopened bottle of wine to cover future traumas." A little grin is sent her way, before he settles in his listening attentively pose, which is like his other pose, except he leans comfortably back into the couch. "No." The word comes out with a sharpness at that invitation that Lilah likely didn't mean, seeing as her next words soften with another dismissal as she adds, "It's nothing. And, I'd rather not talk about it." She pushes away from the sideboard, however, and grabs the bottle before moving closer to the couch. R'hin seems to take that sharp tone, in stride, "When women insist it is nothing and that it's fine, it's generally exactly the opposite." If he's mocking her again it's not obvious in the bland tones. "Then what would you like to do?" comes the immediate inquiry, as pale eyes track her movement. "As opposed to men, who always say what they mean?" Lilah challenges as she pours more wine into her glass before setting the wine bottle aside, against the floor rather than finding a table. Instead of answering his inquiry with words, she draws closer to stand right in front of the bronzerider, her free hand lifting to brush her thumb against his jaw in a mimic of his earlier gesture. "Hey, hey. No finger pointing," R'hin says, holding up his free hand, palm facing her, as if to ward her off. When she moves to stand right in front of him, however, his hand drops, and pale eyes lift to watch her expression, a dark chuckle escaping him when she touches his jaw. "Is this your version of friendly?" he wonders. Lilah answers with a laugh, quiet as she counters, "No, this is just my version of curious." And her expression is thoughtful, caught in the way she studies him. She doesn't move immediately, except for the slide of fingers against R'hin's jaw. Then slowly, she leans down to only brush her lips over his. With a bemused grunt, R'hin says, "The definition of friendly and curious sure has changed a lot in the last few Turns." Which isn't to say that the bronzerider doesn't let himself be experimented on to so speak, adding a little pressure of his lips against hers, but he doesn't otherwise encourage her. It's almost like he's more interested in seeing what she intends to do next. Annoyance marks the sharp exhale of a "Hmph" as an answer, and it marks the way Lilah's kiss transforms. Her lips move over his demandingly, pressing for more even as she moves to straddle him with an ease that doesn't really speak to the need to experiment. And when she breaks the kiss, she answers an earlier question with an unsteady, "I would like to learn to pick locks. It could be useful." With his wine glass still in one hand, R'hin only has one free hand with which to steady Lilah as she straddles him, surprise evidenced in pale eyes, and something else, too. And while he meets her kiss, it's as she's pressing for more that his hand slides around her waist, familiarly at first, then shifting her weight and rolling over, so that she's against the couch and he's the one leaning over her. "You don't," he murmurs, "Have to seduce me for that. I'll take my payment in a question of my choosing to be answered... some time." And then he's standing, bending to retrieve that bottle in order to refill his glass, pacing away to the hearthside. It's R'hin's moving away that surprises Lilah more than the shift in their positions, her eyes narrowing on his back as she straightens, though she doesn't stand. Instead, she pushes fingers through her hair and takes a sip of her wine before she answers flatly, "No. If you think I am going to let you ask me any question you want--." She only shakes her head instead of finishing that sentence. "You can ask three questions, and I will answer one." R'hin doesn't take account of her reaction, turned as he is towards the hearth, stretching out free hand to lean against the mantle above it. "That waters down the effect of the debt, little goldrider. If you were to chose what would be the point of the question?" A beat. "I assure you my intention is not to embarrase, nor harm nor shame you in any way. I will not ask in public, and I will keep whatever confidences you share." Finally, he looks back over towards her, his expression shadowed but what can be seen of it appears genuine. "That is the price. For all you know," he smiles, just a fleeting gesture, "It could be to ask the color of undergarments you wear." "I am not stupid enough to believe that you'd waste an opportunity to find out the color of my undergarments," Lilah replies dismissively, taking a sip of her wine as she studies R'hin's shadows. "Not when I already offered you an opportunity." A beat, and she is pressing on to question, "What guarantees do I have that you'll keep whatever I tell you strictly to yourself?" "You have none." With a long low breath, R'hin seems to concede after a moment of silence and study of her expression, "Very well. Have it your way, little goldrider. Three questions; you choose which to answer. But, since you changed the terms, I add a rider: you may not tell anyone what I'm teaching you." "It's not as if I am going to leave here and go tell my Weyrwoman that her weyrling goldrider is taking lessons in the art of being a criminal," Lilah counters with dry humor, though she meets R'hin's study with a weighted gaze of her own, watching him in turn. "I won't tell a soul." "I wasn't talking about your Weyrwoman," R'hin replies, as if he already assumed that. With a lift of his glass in her direction, he says, "It's a deal." Of course, sealing it takes a handshake, and he's moving back over to stare down at her with the advantage of height, offering his free palm. "Who were you talking about, then?" questions Lilah challengingly, even as she moves to stand to erase some of that height difference between the two of them. Then, she will accept his palm with her own. "No one in particular," R'hin murmurs down at her -- even after she stands -- amused, as the roughened pads of his fingers brush against her palm. A beat, then, "You'd best drink more wine, if you're going to stick to your line of having needed it." "Mmm." The noise in passive, soft as it catches in Lilah's throat before she lifts that glass obediently at R'hin's suggestion to finish the last of the wine inside before moving to find the bottle again. "Last time I had this much, there were concerns I wouldn't make it home. It'd be better to bring the bottle home with me, rather than drinking here." "Eliyaveith didn't seem concerned." Because R'hin, apparently, checked. "If you can't hold yourself more than a glass or too, you'll be done at her first hatching feast. Everyone expects you to toast." Is he suggesting she practice? Though, "You could do that, too," he agrees easily enough with her suggestion of taking the bottle home, as he all-but finishes what's left in his own glass. "Just don't waste it. And," he's striding towards the sideboard, perusing the contents carefully. "I have turns before I need to worry about that. I'll be sure that I can hold enough liquor by then to satisfy everyone's well wishes," Lilah assures him, pouring the last of the bottle into her wine glass even as he finishes his own. "How would I even waste liquor? Pouring it out just for fun?" She follows after him to look over the collection as well, trailing not quite as quietly where boots hit stone. It takes R'hin a moment to find what he's looking for, straightening as he pulling out another bottle. "To spare you another breaking and entering... at least until you get halfway competent at it." It rather sounds like he's scolding her, almost. As for wasting it: "By gulping it down like it's going to solve all your problems. Drinking it in the dark by yourself. Letting it go bad in the air." The Savannah Wingleader pauses, looks down at the bottle, then at her. "You know... on second thought, I don't think you're ready for this." Lilah's lips only curve upwards in an unrepentant smirk for the mention of breaking and entering, and she reaches out for the bottle even as R'hin reconsiders the offer. And, in a low, warm murmur, she accuses, "Tease." "You need just a little more... maturing." R'hin, such a tease. "If that is what you want to tell yourself," Lilah answers in a way that it's obvious she isn't talking about the wine anymore, her gaze meeting his with a weighted challenge there even as she reaches again for the bottle. "This wine has a certain appeal to a certain palate." And R'hin is talking about the wine, or seems to be sticking to that line, despite the dark chuckle that briefly passes his lips at her response. It's easy enough for him to hold the bottle out of her reach. "Consider it a prize to be claimed when you've earned it." Lilah doesn't do herself the indignity of stretching for it, or trying to twist R'hin's arm to retrieve it. When he takes it away, she only curves a brow upwards and lifts her glass to finish the last of that wine before setting it aside. "Then I will return home empty handed," she replies dismissively. "But, have Leiventh bespeak Ellie, whenever you have the time for a lesson." "Empty handed?" R'hin manages to look affronted, "Aside from the handsome company, the belly full of the best wine you've ever had in your life, and plenty of hours of illegal, underhanded training to look forward to? You," he grins down at her, "Really are a half-glass-empty type of girl." "I don't live in the past, and the future is too unpredictable to be relied upon," counters Lilah carelessly, a small smile to mirror his grin. Her shoulder rolls up in a light shrug, before the goldrider is turning away to retreat across the room and towards the entrance of the weyr and her waiting dragon without so much as a farewell. "Oh, little goldrider. No wonder your life is so dull and repressed." The words ride the line between sympathetic and mocking -- hard to tell which one the bronzerider is going for, since either could be just as likely. In bare feet, he follows -- deadly silent -- to the entrance, framed by the faint light from the weyr beyond to watch them depart. As previously, Leiventh checks in with Eliyaveith, though this time not in words -- his statuesque presence on the rim of the bowl perhaps lost amongst the other dragons that stand sentinel there. It is probably the hint of mocking that gets the dismissive, sarcastic response of, "It's a surprise you even need a question, bronzerider, with all that you seem to already know about me." Eliyaveith assures Leiventh just as silently as he checks in, a simple warmth standing in for words even as her gaze lifts to try to find the bronze as Lilah mounts up. "One never knows when it will come in handy," comes the bronzerider's low-pitched voice from the shadows. There's a glint -- like light off a bottle, perhaps? -- before he retreats inside. Eliyaveith waits for another moment, two, as if thoughtful of any dust or dirt that may be kicked up before she launches into the sky. The gold is almost bright against snow for the seconds she hangs in the air and then disappears between. Across Pern, at Fort Weyr, she reaches out to assure Leiventh again of her arrival. |
Leave A Comment