Logs:No Kiss and Tell
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| RL Date: 8 February, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh comes to Lya for sympathy after Drex doesn't kiss her. Perhaps it would have gone better if Lya had said nothing, too. |
| Where: Resident Quarters, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 13, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Winter. It's cold! |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions, Itsy/Mentions, Seani/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Teen angst and wild theories. Back-dated. |
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>---< Resident Quarters, High Reaches Weyr(#805RAJ) >------------------------<
A small foyer, spartan in decor with only a rug on the floor and a chore
board tacked to the wall, serves as a node for the network of dormitory
caverns. Segregated by age and gender, the dorms provide sleeping
accommodations for a wide range of the Weyr's populace.
The largest dormitory has a brightly painted blue and yellow door and is
hung with a hook board with clay name tags for the children who live
there. Inside, bunk beds and single cots provide sleeping space for kids
aged seven to fourteen, with clothing stored in a hodgepodge mix of trunks
and foot lockers. A larger cot is pushed up against the wall near the door
for the nanny on night duty.
Several archways lead to a loopy maze of smaller caverns that provide
sleeping accommodations for two to eight people at a time, each with a
basic cot-and-press setup; glows here are sparse and often dim, since the
dorms are primarily meant for sleeping. A larger archway leads to the
common room and, like the others, is protected by a tapestry that muffles
sight and sound. All of the usual pretenses have been met: Farideh's shown up at Lycinea's room unannounced, despite the presence of any of her friend's roommates, and launches right into the details about her moment with Drex in his room. "I actually asked him, Lya! Asked him, and he didn't say anything," the laundress repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose, standing by the blonde's bed, with one hand on her hip. "I'm so, so, stupid. So stupid. Who does that? Why did I do that?" She looks up, almost beseechingly, at Lycinea, as if the other, if younger, girl might have all the answers to her current plight. "I have to move to Southern. If I ever see him again, I'll just die. Die." Lya, cross-legged on her cot, squints at her friend. "You... Asked him if he was a murderer? I did too," comes brightly. "Did he lie to you more?" Here, some measure (if not the full measure) of the appropriate amount of concern (for Drex lying to her more). Baffled hazel eyes fly to Lycinea's face. "If he's a murderer? Of course he's not a murderer. Does he look like a murderer?" despite having been convinced just days earlier that he was. "No, this is much worse than murder, Lya," without regard to a certain lady's death two days prior, "I asked him to kiss me, and he didn't say anything." And by Farideh's borderline hysterical laugh, this might be one of the worst things that happened to her all turn! Or, in this particular moment, it seems like. "I'm so dumb," as she sits heavily on the end of the cot. As friends go, Lya probably shouldn't be first pick for matters of human sexuality. The blinking might be Farideh's first clue. "Maybe he thinks kissing is dumb." Like she does. "Or maybe he only wants to kiss boys but doesn't want to say so. Or maybe he doesn't understand why you want to kiss him when you usually yell at him and throw things at him. Kissing is different than yelling and throwing things," her tone implies not much different, but she does two of those three. "Anyway," here comes the token attempt to be comforting, "Kissing is dumb, but I'm sure you're not." 'A deep shade of grey at best,' said the kettle to the pot. "Kissing is dumb?" Farideh sounds incredulous - who in their right mind would think kissing is dumb! She starts to chew on the tip of her thumb, anxiously. "Do you really think he likes guys? I didn't think he looked like the type, but he does spend all that time on a boat with other men." Her forehead creases and she shakes her head, dispelling that notion as quickly as it comes. "Ugh. No. I don't think that's it. Maybe he just likes girls like Itsy." She falls back on the bed, flinging an arm over her eyes; dramatic. "My life is really over, now." Lifting her arm, to peek up at Lycinea: "Let's move to Monaco. We can spend our days on the beach and get great suntans." The way Lycinea looks at Farideh suggests that the first is too obvious for her to answer. The look could be mistaken for something else (perhaps, for the willfully ignorant of Lya's position on all things sexual, it might even be seen as taking back the sentiment). She stares at Farideh after that while she talks, her look more blank than sympathetic. She rolls her shoulders. "Not everyone who likes guys looks like they like guys. Haven't you been in the Weyr long enough to know that?" The blonde shifts to tuck the sock in her lap under her pillow. "If he does like girls like Itsy, are you going to stop bathing to get hair like hers?" Lya wrinkles her nose, side-eyeing Farideh suspiciously. "And you do know that if we move somewhere with beaches it's accessible by ship and he'll probably just happen to show up just to make you die." Because that's what Drex's plan has clearly been all along. "No," but obviously she doesn't want it to be true. "No." Firmer, more confident, for both the former and latter comments, and then her arms finds its place back over her eyes, her exhale loud and annoyed. "Or, maybe his ship will be done soon and I won't have to move. That would be the most optimistic option. Though," Farideh's frowning, "there's a lot of death around here lately." She's quiet, clearly thinking, and when she does speak, it's with less cynicism than before. "How do you feel about what happened? With Lady Issedi? No one seems to care," except her. Lya just stares for the first bit. If her lashes flutter, it's surely not her resisting a roll of her eyes. Surely not. But then the topic changes and she seems more willing to discuss (and roll her eyes). "Oh, that," a hand waves carelessly in the air. "Everybody knows it was only a matter of time. After all, he probably killed that exile, Seani, in K'del's weyr, before he disappeared. And now Issedi," even if not by his own hand. "Both stabbed, even." Well, close enough. "Both blonde. Both pretty. He's probably a serial killer." She sounds quite serious about this. "You just watch, in a couple of months, when he finishes his 'mourning,'" she makes air-quotes, "he'll marry an exile girl, have some babies and name one of them heir." She pauses, canting her head, "Unless you get to him first. Wasn't he on your list of attractive Lord Holders you might consider, only at the time he was married?" Nevermind that this is probably incredibly tasteless in light of recent events. "If you marry Lord Devaki, you could probably even get him to take Drex's ship away from him for not kissing you. Or have him make Drex sail to the far reaches of Pern, never to be heard from again." Lya's understanding about the limits of a Lord Holder's power might be somewhat... flawed. "Only a matter of time?" the brunette chokes out, leaning up on her elbows to give Lycinea a disbelieving stare. "You're kidding. No one would honestly think that. Even if he was an exile, he's Lord of High Reaches Hold now, confirmed by the Conclave. It doesn't matter if he marries a hundred women and has a hundred different children, he's--" Farideh sucks in a breath and lets it out, shudderingly, as she falls back on the bed, resuming her prone position. "Maybe I will marry Lord Devaki. I'll have Drex thrown between and you too for all your sass. And," her eyes narrow, "Drex said you wanted to trick me by telling me he murdered you. What were you thinking? Or, were you not?" "I was thinking I'd save myself the headache of things like this." Lycinea sighs. She's so very put upon. "Why are you worried about who will kiss you and who won't anyway? It's not like he's staying here. It was a fluke of a storm that he even got here to begin with. And last week you hated him, for the record," in case Farideh needed reminding of that. "And Lord Devaki will always have grown up in the wild on that island of theirs. Who knows what kind of savage behavior Lady Issedi had to put up with." Really, shouldn't Farideh focus on that instead of kissing? With an exasperated sound, Farideh pushes herself up to a sitting position, and regards Lycinea haughtily. "Really, Lya. I wonder sometimes how're we're friends at all," and then she's standing, staring down at the blonde with an unfathomable expression. "Really." Flabberghasted. "We're friends because when we're not fighting, we like each other a lot," Lycinea answers quite logically. "You know I think kissing is dumb, but you came to talk to me anyway because you like me. I'm sorry he didn't say anything, but I really don't think you're actually going to die unless you do decide to marry Devaki. But you have brown hair, so it's probably only a chance you'll be stabbed and die a grizzly awful death." She sighs. "Can we... talk about something else?" "No, Lya." Farideh's hands settle on her hips. "I needed to talk to someone, and if we're friends, you're supposed to listen. It doesn't matter how stupid or wrong I am. Or if you don't want to hear. That's what friends do." She makes a disgusted sound, and turns to go, not for the first time that day. "I did listen," Lya protests after Farideh's retreating form. She sighs. Again. "I just didn't agree," is muttered to herself before she's turning to pull the sock out from under her pillow and slide it onto her arm. All so she can say to her friend, "I don't like to say so, but you know Farideh is really crazy sometimes." |
Comments
Roz (23:18, 9 February 2015 (EST)) said...
They cray cray.
Edyis (23:49, 9 February 2015 (EST)) said...
And we are all how old again?
This had me giggling all through work!
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