Logs:The Hard Road
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 17 April, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Immediately following Leiventh's call for help, Jo comes to R'hin aid. |
| Where: Somewhere near Monaco Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 7, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Taikrin/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Torani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions |
  |
| A rush of cold, wintry winds rolls over him like a storm, abrupt. It his not Leiventh's usual way, by far -- there is an intensity and nearness that is unusual for him. Today, now, there is a need, unexplained but pressing, a sense of instability and fatigue and something else not-quite-identified, before the feel of the bronze fades, though not before he provides an image of a distant beach. (To Tacuseth from Leiventh) The beach itself is near-perfect: a day of light winds, cloudless blue skies and clear blue ocean. Nothing looks amiss, except for the fact that Leiventh's still form rests below, not sitting in his usual statuesque tucked-in-form, but wings slightly splayed, a figure slumped at his side. Tacuseth - having been around the older bronze for a length of time that some of his memory starts to stick - seems to notice that shift in Leiventh and he takes the cold winds in with a wrap of inky shadows. Curiousity and concern touches there without the usual baring of gladiatorial horns, the trumpet fanfare that proceeds him before his touch is removed and the blue can be seen winking in from Between. (To Leiventh from Tacuseth) One would think, given the visuals, that a certain black leather clad bluerider would forego the signature and hot leathers for something more airy, but perhaps that's just not Jo's style. Once Tacuseth lands near the splayed bronze, she's down and taking a look around before she shucks the jacket off. The tank top revealed is off-white and nearly threadbare, showing the myriad of scars that criss-cross her tanned skin as she finally approaches the pair with a slight frown. She doesn't announce that she's here, no - she's studying the bronze first before turning to the slumped form, hands falling to her hips before she greets with her diagnosis: "Ya dyin' on me, old man?" The area around looks completely deserted. Leiventh's acknowledgement of the blue's arrival is faint, non-verbal, but there's an air of something thankful as his thoughts fade, crowded over by an exhaustion borne of a lost flight, a familiar sensation for any male dragon. R'hin, for his part, looks like he's been baking in the sun a while, lips chapped and an unfocused gaze that, nonetheless, result in a low-throated chuckle that descends into a cough. "We decided today was not our day," he says, voice cracked, throat dry, but still able to convey amusement. There's a bottle not far from his grasp, already emptied. Tacuseth only comes close enough to the bronze as permitted, seeming to sense the other's need for something. He doesn't seem to know what he should do, but for now, at least he's there. As for Jo, stepping closer to pick up the empty bottle, "Normally, I'd get ya a fresh one," she states, briefly lifting the bottle in indication of what she means, "but, let's just say I'm goin' with my better judgement right now'n not try to kill ya further." Tossing the bottle and dropping to her knees, "-Shit-, R'hin," she breathes the words more than says, studying his face gravely. "I can' even have my way with ya in this condition. Yer gonna tell me what's goin' on with ya, with him-" she nods towards Leiventh and his odd position "-or are ya gonna make me drag it outta ya today?" Her words earn another wracking couch, R'hin's hands stretching out as if to bid her to stop, or to pause at least until it subsides. "I don't know if I can... explain," he finally says, face twisting, as unfocused gaze goes to Leiventh. The bronze is silent, somnolent or close to, and it's longer, pauses growing longer, before his gaze returns to Jo. "Need you to watch our backs." There's distant movement in the sky, almost unnoticed, from the east. The coughing, the words...Jo is frowning all the more, her dark gaze flicking only briefly to Leiventh. It's when R'hin says the last that she grates out, "Are y'all in trouble? How deep yer in it, huh?" She probably would have asked more, but then, Tacuseth must have alerted her towards movement in the sky. She looks up for only a moment before slowly getting to her feet, her shoulders tense before she throws a sharp look towards the bronzerider. "Who'n where?" The playful Jo is gone, replaced by something else that never sees the light of day around those in the Weyr - Jo the criminal. There's a cold steel in her voice in the subtle shift, lost of feeling, lost of emotion, her gaze unfocusing as if she's in communication with her blue - and there's that shift of fingers close to her sides where steel is surely hidden. "It never leaves," is R'hin's counter, exhaling a breath, eyes closing as Jo scans the sky. "We're west of Monaco. They might be distracted enough not to bother." The flicker of movement becomes a shadow, and forms into a bulky, large brown, flying fast and high along the coastline. It is by no coincidence that, as he draws near, the brown descends, circles once, then drops to a landing further up from the bronze and blue. His rider is clearly studying the situation, taking account. "And...yer back in Monaco cuz...?" but really, Jo's not looking for answers right now. With the killer instinct clicked on, she's clearly spoiling for a tussle of the bad kind. One of her wicked, curved blades slide free from its hiding spot as the brown dragon is spotted, landing a ways from them with narrowed gaze. Tacuseth seems to straighten his posture up with his wings going back - almost looking like a challenge - which the convict rider sniffs the air like an animal as she turns toward their new guest watching them. She won't move unless the other does, but she does murmur over towards R'hin, "Sweeprider? What would they want with you?" Maybe he'll catch notice through her stance that the situation can get ugly very quickly unless there's reason for it to be diffused. "Leiventh... needed to be." Which, while true, is probably not anywhere near helpful nor insightful. R'hin doesn't take account of their visitor until Jo's voice draws his attention that way, pale eyes opening and trying to focus on the man in question. Leiventh is silent, still, crimson dimmed into exhausted sleep. The Savannah rider makes a noise in the back of his throat like an unvoiced protest, but doesn't say anything as the brownrider dismounts, and begins walking towards them. It's obvious he's taken account of Jo's stance, along with her blue, though whether he's noticed that blade is debateable. "Mornin'," the brownrider says, casually. "Home?" Jo hazards a murmured guess on R'hin's answer, her focus clearly on the approaching rider. "What, a divey bar here in Monaco couldn't suffice?" She seems to want to diffuse the situation - or her own killer instinct - with jokes. She gives Leiventh only the briefest of glances, then Tacuseth, before the man approaching speaks. And, well, in pure Jo fashion - since there's no shoulderknot on her person to explicitly tie her to a Weyr other than the blue dragon nearby - she deliberately eases her tense stance to something a little sultry and calmly tests the blade of her curved knife lightly against her folded, scarred opposite arm. "It is one, ain' it?" is her return greeting to the man, the smile flashy and disarming in every way. There's the tall tale challenge in her stance more than in her tone, her sharp gaze taking the rider in. "Anythin' we can do for ya, darlin'?" There's no response from R'hin; instead, he's stretched an arm out, bracing it against Leiventh as he begins the slow process of attempting to stand. The brownrider looks relatively harmless; he keeps his posture at ease. There's the colors of Monaco affixed to his jacket, his gaze shifting between the pair of riders. As to whether he can do anything for her; "Maybe," his gaze evaluating, tapping a finger against his leg. "Got some things to discuss with the bronzerider. You know. Guy things." He gives her a disarming grin, or what is intended to be. The dragon behind him is watchful, curious and intent as his rider. Jo takes in all she could on the man that reaches her, her gaze finally settling on his face. The knife stays drawing against her arm - and if there's just the pinprick of blood, she doesn't seem to notice. She looks over her shoulder back at R'hin when he's brought up - as if she had forgotten he was even there. "Oh, him?" she quips, jerking her head over in his direction. "Yeah, I don' think he's in any condition to be discussin' nothin' with nobody, darlin'. How 'bout ya tell me 'bout these scary-soundin' Guy thangs, eh? See if I can be of some service instead?" A press in her tone, though the smile stays just as flashy as before. "I would, but I'm afraid it's private. How about, five minutes?" the brownrider suggests, as he slowly-but-surely strolls closer, completely unassuming. When Jo looks over her shoulder at R'hin, he's closing, quickly, one hand reaching for her wrist to try and pin that knife safely out of the way. R'hin's struggling with the whole standing thing, and slumps back down, gaze going distant, though if it's Leiventh he's talking with, the bronze is not stirred to motion. The one second had Jo suddenly confronted with the man, and she's quick to reverse the aim of her blade to try and slice right into the part of hand that has her. She jerks back on alert, using the momentum to aim a leathered knee towards the man's stomach as she pants out, "The fuck yer doin', takin' a girl's knife like that?!" Tacuseth is on alert as his rider tries to guide the brownrider away from R'hin. There's a momentary grin of victory on the brownrider's face, but that fades fairly swiftly once Jo's slashing motion cuts across his wrist. "Fuck, you bitch," he spits, retreating as one hand presses over the wound. He manages to avoid most of the force of her knee by twisting his body, but it still makes him grunt. Holding his hands up, he backs off, quickly, as his brown likewise alert -- edges forward, though doesn't get involved. "I just wanted to talk. But I can see you object to that." Once the knife makes its debut into the tussle, Jo only backs off when the man's hands come up. She's panting, holding the knife in a posture that promised more than the cut as she sends his way in return for his words, "Yeah, yeah. Get in line. Just be lucky ya didn' get worse than that lil' kiss, baby." She's not taking her eyes off him anymore now, the coldness in her gaze and tone showing that from here, the nice routine was off. When he talks about talking, "Then talk," is her return whether R'hin was going to speak or not. It's likely Jo's not leaving until or unless the bronzerider calls her off. The brownrider stands still for a moment or two, his head cocked. There's the sense that, perhaps, he confers with another -- his dragon, or someone else -- and then he concedes with a smile that is not-quite-pleasant. "Another time," he says, "And perhaps we can finish our little dance sometime, too." Slowly, keeping his eyes on Jo, he backs off until he feels comfortable enough to turn and walk towards his brown. Shortly thereafter the pair lifts off and wings eastwards, and though his is not the last movement in the distance, if there is any others they are keeping their distance. R'hin hasn't quite managed to stand, but he's crawled closer, straightening now as he kneels up, gaze on Jo, rather than the retreating brownrider. "Are you--" he doesn't finish the sentence, pale eyes struggling to focus as he takes in her posture, exhaling. "Thank you." Sniffing once at the man's promise when it looks like he's backing down and leaving, Jo lifts her head in a show of masculine arrogance as she slowly and deliberately looks him over. Maybe she'll make him a bit unnerved when her gaze lingers on his crotch before she finally studies his face and answers, "Mmm, somethin' to look forward to." While it sounds sultry from her, her cold gaze is promising something else entirely. She waits until the brownpair has returned to the skies before her head turns slightly at R'hin's voice. She doesn't return to him right away, choosing to check the skies in the direction the pair flew along with her Tacuseth. Then, as she idly wipes the smear of blood against her off-white tank, "Ya might not thank me for what I'm 'bout to do next," she states, breathing slowly as she lets the tensity from her posture. She turns then as she sheathes the knife and folds her arms over her chest with an arched brow. Taking his state in, "Now, I'm the sort that let a man keep his business, his business," she starts, nodding once. "I'm the last to judge from where I've come from. But now, I've got a 'rider's blood on me'n no answers to back it up. In case that man comes after me down the line, which I welcome all the same, ya best start tellin' me what I got his blood on me for." R'hin's gaze remains on Jo while she speaks, his cracked lips twisting, his gaze shifting as he turns to look over his shoulder at his dragon. Finally, when he looks back to Jo, "Leiventh felt the need to chase Monaco's senior. We're still... exiled. M'kris is still Weyrleader. We changed nothing." And yet though the words should sound bitter, he doesn't sound as upset so much as oddly accepting. Stretching a hand towards her, he gives her a twisted smile, "Help an old man into the shade, would you?" Jo listens and makes no move nor a sound even after he finishes speaking. She seems to be taking what's said apart, eyes slightly narrowed, a slight nod here and there before she finally steps forward and bends to help him towards the nearest shade. Snorting loudly, "Ya mean, all this over some randy dragons?" Jo's the best at minimalizing anything. "Yeah, somethin' tells me it's much more'n that. Gotta be more'n randiness to wanna risk a place yer exiled in." She pauses long enough to try and look R'hin directly in his eyes, much of that criminal demeanor now gone in her. "Ya wanna come back here? Ya miss Monaco?" Somehow, she conveys more that she means Leiventh along with him. The bronzerider is silent as they're walking, leaning heavily on Jo, mouth pressed into a thin line with the effort. It's only after he's seated, and taken a moment to breath that R'hin seems relaxed enough to offer her an uneven smile. "It's never that easy, my temptress." He leans back, gaze unwaveringly fixed in Leiventh's direction, or what he can see of the bronze's bulk from here, anyway. It's her latter question that makes him hesitate, but after a moment, "No." And some considerate silence, before, "Remember when I told you once, after a flight, that I... that I do things sometimes to affect the outcome. To stop him being as focused? He... he's always indulged me that. But..." his jaw clenches briefly, the words coming reluctantly. "He hasn't been the same since we saw Yuraveth. She, Torani, they were... not right." Once she has him seated in the shade - them both seated - Jo drops down beside him shoulder-to-shoulder and exhales heavily with her head tilting back. Gaze following his towards the bronze, "Good," she states on him answering about returning. It's all she seems willing to say on that, too. "Fixed up flights, hmm. Yes, ya did tell me. I remember thinkin' I could do the same, with Tac. Not right," she echoes that last hollowly before studying R'hin for a moment. Studying his gaze, "So, who are ya, R'hin?" she askes steadily. "Ya don' have to answer," she adds with an arched brow. "You'n I have always been just surface. I'm willin'...to trade ya a secret for a secret. Take it or not." The offer is there, left to the air in the pause before she continues on with, "If I wasn' here, what would he had done?" The Savannah rider leans heavily against her shoulder, as if drinking in that contact, silent for a time. An exhale of consideration, and then, for their visitor: "Don't know. Talked, maybe. Reinforced that our exile continues, likely. Made a point." He shrugs, as if they are guesses. The bluerider's words, however, draw R'hin's gaze, and there's a fleeting, if genuine smile. "A secret for a secret," he agrees, with a brief pause, for his answer to her question -- not out of hesitancy at the trade. "Fact is, I don't rightly know these days. I'm... I'm what the Weyr needs me to be. Always have been. And with all our queens gone..." he goes silent, eyes closing. Welcoming the contact, "Ya seemed like it was definitely more'n a talk," Jo notes with a look before grinning. "Shit, man. Ya get into more trouble'n me. That's a challenge. I must put gettin' exiled from a Weyr on my bucketlist." Some small chuckle before it fades to the rest of what he says, regarding him in her watchful silence. That he answers draws a solemn nod, and after a long pause, "With all the queens gone," she repeats his words slowly, "ya will continue to be what the Weyr needs. One thing I've learned with losin' Aishani, darlin', yer job's never over." In that moment, she shows through the curtain of steel how much losing that particular goldrider had affected her. "Loyalty never fades," she goes on to say, "even when those we gave loyalty to do." She falls silent and looks ahead now, "Secret taken, secret given. That I got sent to the mines is true," she states, looking his way. "If ya've heard rumors 'bout me. Framed. Should still...be in there." After a lengthy pause, "That 'rider," she notes slowly, "Like you, I'm what I need to be. Cuz of that. The things I've done..." She doesn't need to say it. Maybe her look says it all. "I wouldn't recommend it, really," R'hin replies with a low-throated laugh that doesn't linger, due to the rattling cough that briefly passes. "But if you need help setting it up, you know I'm always up for a challenge." The Savannah rider doesn't look at the Glacier one, but there's acknowledgement of her words in the slow exhale and the brief twitch of lips. "No, I guess it's not." Her mention of Aishani, and loyalty, has him reaching out a hand, resting fingers against hers after a brief squeeze. He listens, silently, turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of her expression. "But you're not. You're where you're meant to be, now, with Tacuseth, with me." A brief snort, amused. "We're two peas in a pod. We can't escape the things we've done, had to do, but there's no possible way to go back, now. Only forward, down the hard road." Laughing with him, "Guess yer right," Jo says on exiling. "I couldn' even if I wanted to, anyway. Got too many obligations beyond my control." Perhaps it's the first time she's admitting she has others pulling her strings, but she doesn't linger on it. His fingers on hers draws a brief smile, and his words draw her gaze towards him without the glimmer of arrogance that usually precedes it. Inclining her head, "I've long accepted who I am," she states, the words heavy and ominous. "Ain' likely changin'. I've made my peace long ago when I escaped. Folks like us, goin' back means gettin' dead. Forward." Squeezing his hand, "Ya'll make it out," she says with ease, her grin lopsided. Nodding to Leiventh, "A determined ass like you that can manipulate a flight? There ain' nothin' ya can't do, baby." Perhaps strangely enough, she leaves herself out of the equation, leaning her head back again as she adds, "We're where we're meant to be, darlin'. Never doubt that." It's doubtful he doesn't pick up that reference of her obligations, however oblique, though he doesn't pursue it. Perhaps he's too unfocused too, or maybe he's had enough of the secret-for-secret sharing for the time being. Jo's comments about accepting who she is earn an agreeable sound, soon after followed by a faint laugh. "Don't really recommend it. It's rather... painful. Much more fun winning." His hand moves from her fingers towards her thigh, resting there a moment, even if he's not exactly in a position to follow up with the tease. He can't help the grin that follows. "You sure I can't steal you from Taikrin?" "I win enough without dragons involved," Jo's arrogance can't stay away for too long after all. With a flash of a toothy smile, she nudges his shoulder with her own before she says, "We've gotta getcha outta here, R'hin. 'less ya want round two with that one'n somethin' tells me he didn' exactly come all this way by his lonesome. Ya think Leiventh can fly?" She's already looking towards the bronze, checking him when R'hin touches her thigh, sending her gaze back to him. There's that flash of a genuine smile for him, callused fingers briefly brushing his before his question has her outright laughing. "That woman'll have my leathered hide if I leave her," she says as she turns those brush of fingers into an open grip as she prepares to get to her feet. "Glacier affords me certain freedoms I would hate to lose. But who knows, even a convict like me can be bought. We'll talk 'bout it sometime." "I won't leave him," R'hin says, perhaps sharper than intended, grimacing a moment later. "Sorry. Not sure whether he can -- we'll try." There's a snort, fingers twisting with hers. "I'd be willing to fight her for you. Can't be sure I'd win -- she's got a killer right hook -- but I think you'd be worth it, temptress," he says. He's not put off by her words, and, indeed, he's grinning at her latter words. "Yeah, we will." He braces himself, and plans to rise, though undoubtedly a lot of that will require him relying on Jo for assistance. Sharpness or not, it doesn't seem to bother Jo none. "Wouldn' have it otherwise," she agrees, looking over towards the bronze. "The many times Tac stuck by me when I was pukin' out my guts from some dive....or when my knuckles'n head were too bloody to go Between....yeah, I get it." Well, not the same thing, but - "I get it." R'hin's fingers with hers as she gets to her knees draw her sharp gaze across his for his words. She lingers there for a moment, seeming to take it in before she murmurs, "To challenge Taikrin..." with a huff of breath. For her? There's a faint blush that taints her tanned face that she deflects attention from with a blithe, "Well, I never did get her in the ring. Come on, now. If he ain' leavin', then we'll get ya comfortable'n outta the way. I can come back with stuff if he's meanin' to stick around here." She'll help him at this point, being more than willing to give her assistance. With a relenting nod, R'hin looks relieved that she gets it, his gaze lingering on her, now. He seems pleased at her reaction, and it draws forth another smile, genuine. Maybe at any other time it'd be accompanied by a teasing followup, but her words earn a tightening of expression. "No, you're right. It's not safe here. We just need to get somewhere... cool." He goes silent as he straightens, leaning more weight on Jo as he angles towards Leiventh. His fingers press into her shoulder, as he mutters, "I trust you. Take us somewhere. Leiventh will take your image." At his words of trust, more potent than any smile or touch for Jo, she nods towards R'hin and angles him towards his dragon before she says, "I intend never to betray that." Small words that say much, unspoken. On towards Leiventh, "I know a place," as she always says, her brazen smile right back on her face. "Right temperature'n all. Good place to rest. Just leave it all to me." And the convict bluerider does so to a place with equally stunning views, but just a whole lot cooler. His, "I know," is nearly inaudible, though not completely so. The effort for R'hin to climb atop Leiventh is, by some measures, attempted to be concealed, though he can't quite hide the strain, nor the weary, exhausted slump against the angular bronze's hide as he stirs to a reluctant wakefulness. The minimal amount of effort is expended to get airborne before he uses Tacuseth's image, and they appear moments after the bluepair. Perhaps, any other day, the bronzerider might appreciate the view -- for now he's just grateful to be out of the heat, and somewhere safe. |
Comments
Alida (03:19, 18 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
I really enjoy seeing these two interact. Good scene. :)
Leave A Comment