Logs:No Peeking
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| RL Date: 21 March, 2015 |
| Who: Rafevan, Telavi |
| Type: Log |
| What: Not murder, that's for sure. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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| It's so late it's early, though not early enough for the bread-bakers to have shown up. Though dark and foggy outside, in here it's only dark but for the bobbing glows-- not that Telavi's skulking exactly, but there does get to be the quiet squeak of a cabinet door. She's not the only one down here, either, though the squeak alerts that other person first, perhaps. And then there is skulking to be done: who else would be here at such an hour? Rafevan moves quietly when he wants to, inching closer by slow degrees, just the low pad of soft shoes to give him away in the odd, surreal shadows of glowlight at this hour. The glowlight may be partially blocked by the door, but that goes both ways; perhaps the quiet footsteps are blocked too, by that and the not-as-quiet sounds of rummaging. Rustle rustle. Rafevan comes closer. He could probably very easily scare the other person down here, but he settles for clearing his throat, pausing against the counter to watch. That gets through. No more sounds, not even those of putting anything back... or taking it extra-quickly. Then Tela partially closes the door, moving her head out of the way, and looks more or less towards the sound; "Yes?" As though she has a perfect right to be here. As though this happens all the time. And there's Rafe, brows lifted just so, for what it's worth in the dim lighting of late night. "Hi," he greets her, bemused. "Sorry. I promise I'm trying not to creep." She arches a brow, high and elegant, though on the other side a dimple starts to show. "What would you call it, then?" Telavi wants to know. "Spying? No, that says 'creep' too," Rafevan says, considering her. He taps a finger against his lips. "Hm. It's late. I'm running short of synonyms." "It does," Telavi confirms with such regret. The dimple deepens, and then she's back to searching, though that doesn't stop her from replying, "Lurking. That would be a very reassuring synonym." Instead of quite the opposite. "Lurking? Really?" Not looking very certain about that, Rafevan cocks his head, giving her a look that echoes his words. "I don't think 'lurking' really screams 'not going to murder you in a dark hallway' to me, but..." There's no audible 'aha,' but Telavi does pocket something-or-other; a little neatening later, she's ceremonially closing the cabinetdoor. "'Not going to murder you in the dark kitchen' doesn't have quite the same ring, does it." So disappointing! Rafevan just shrugs, teeth bright when he grins. "Couldn't do it here, now," he assures her. "Somebody might know you're here. Or I'm here, which is more incriminating? I'm not a very good murderer. It's my first time." "It's all right. I'll be gentle," and there's the other dimple as Tela bends Rafe a considering look. "Though there's a wooden spoon around here, I'm sure. Hm." She lowers the glowbasket now, letting it settle the circle of light about their feet. "What can I help you find?" "Is that relevant? Am I beating you to death now or...?" Not so certain about this, he frowns, stepping away from the counter to peek at cabinets himself. "I couldn't sleep," he explains then. "So I thought I would go wander a bit and see if that worked. What did you find?" Because he saw that move. "No, no. That's for if I'm not gentle." The sharp knives might be of more use, admittedly. "Defensive maneuvers, and all that." Tela shrugs as though it's nothing; she's more serious when it comes to sleep, though the glows hardly illumine her slow nod either. "Crackers. They're probably made of nuts or rivergrains or some other mish-mash, but I can pretend." Rafevan snorts. "I hadn't thought of that. Are you likely to be difficult? I admit this conversation has taken a rather surreal turn on me." A beat. "Are you going to share?" He regards her pockets pointedly. "Likely." It's almost, almost regretful. Telavi leaves that be in favor of adding that much more cheerfully, "I am." There's her own beat. "But it won't be nearly enough for thirds. Having said that, it's not like I took it all. 'Hold out your hands, and shut your eyes'..." Obligingly, Rafevan does exactly that, one hand offered palm up, eyes squinched tightly shut--except he's totally peeking out of one at her. Of course he is. Which means that once Tela's done her last-minute rummaging and placed two brittle crackers so carefully in his palm... quickly averting her own eyes, she lifts the glows to his. Rafevan's fingers close around the crackers right quick, though the bright light makes him recoil, eyes really squeezed shut this time. "Hey! Can't you play fair when I'm just an honest murderer?" Who peeks. "If you hadn't peeked..." comes the laughing reply, as Telavi-- who's absolutely a peeker herself-- re-shields her basket and goes skittering off into the dark. And Rafevan, rather than chasing her like any good stalker, just stays there, popping crackers into his mouth. Now, the kitchens almost empty again, the only sound left is his bemused chewing. If chewing can be such a thing. |
Comments
Roz (14:19, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
This is both creepy and hilarious at the same time. I loved it!
Laine (14:48, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
The icons you guys picked for this are perfect.
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