Logs:Solace

Solace
RL Date: 10 October, 2015
Who: Jo, Yesia

Type: Log
What: After Crom, Jo shows up on Yesia's ledge for comfort.
Where: Puddle-Keeper Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 18, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10)

Mentions: R'hin/Mentions




It's some time late the evening - long after the gather in Crom ends - that Tacuseth arrives on Aeaeth's ledge. His color is off; something towards a bluish grey as Jo slides down from his back and stumbles. « Aeaeth, » is his call, the blue making sure he's more towards the puddle than encroaching on her space. As for Jo, the bloody halter is gone. All she has on is dark leathers that smell new as she shuffles feet towards the weyr. The considerable time between then and now hasn't put enough distance between itself and the greenpair with the puddle ledge for either of them to be at ease, but it has given them time to settle into a comfortable environment, as best they can. Yesia's inside, then, warm and wrapped up in a large blanket with a mug of klah, hair down and make-up off, the dress she wore to the gather out of sight in favor of fleecy sleepwear. She looks comfortable, warm, and when word of company reaches her she's slow to move. On the ledge, Aeaeth is facing the weyr, her head on her paws and her back to weyr bowl, as close as she can be this unfriendly night to her lifemate without frostbite making a surprise appearance. « Tacuseth, » Aeaeth sighs, her colors as washed out as Tacuseth's, but returning slowly. They brighten noticably when she sees him, and whispes of Jo, « Is she--? » « Bad, sweets, » Tacuseth answers on his lifemate as he slumps towards the green. He sounds drained, the shadows as washed out as his color. He looks back to watch Jo's progress as she appears on Yesia's threshold, her jacket unfastened to reveal nothing but scarred skin underneath - her hair a mess and her face splotchy as she pauses there, looking at her. No words come, but the bluerider looks listless as she tries to compose herself before the greenrider. "Jo!" carries with it genuine surprise, which means Aeaeth yet again was too distracted tell Yesia who was coming. She rises quickly, tangled in the blanket enough that she ends up batting it away, stepping free and looking at the bluerider with something not unlike her initial terror of Jo, months ago. "You look," begins, is curtailed and replaced, "Are you okay?" When she hears her name, it spurs Jo forward. A tear falls down one cheek as she haltingly closes the distance, Yesia's answer being a shake of her head. All she can manage is a bare whispered, "Yesia," before she tries to draw her in against her. Initial terrors for a moment have initial reactions. It's fair--her most recent vision of Jo is a yellow halter covered in blood, and her dragon never forgets colors when they're striking. She tries to retreat and trips in the blanket, enough to waylay her progress. She's talking, though; she always talks. "Wait, no, you were...and that was Monaco's...and Leiventh? You can't just come here like--" When Yesia starts to talk and trip over her words, Jo wrenches herself out of that jacket in second. It drops, bare from her pants upwards as her hands reach to cup Yesia's face as she follows that retreat. Her lips descend on those words, tasting of her tears as she presses her close with one hand going to the small of her back. "Mm!" Startled though she is, Yesia allows herself to be drawn forward into that kiss, taking some solace from it for a half-second. Jo is Jo, still, even if she tastes like salt and looks like sadness incarnate. Her fingertips trace scars, tentative. "I'm sorry," is all she says when they break a moment, but her fingers have moved to twine in Jo's. There's heat in that kiss when it's mostly desperation. She lets Yesia touch her scars when the kiss breaks, and it's those words - and those fingers - that has a small whimper escaping from her lips. She can't speak, her fingers twining in turn as she slowly slides to her knees as she buries her face into Yesia's clothes, perhaps to hide her tears. Yesia's breath is shuddery, and she is as appreciative of the reprieve from intensity as Jo must be for the shelter of Yesia's legs. It gives her time to gather herself again, eyes closing for a few steadying inhales before she reaches a hand down to touch Jo's hair. Seconds later, she's down on her knees too, her arms around Jo's neck so she can pull her into an embrace, her mouth near the bluerider's ear. "Shhhhhh, Jo. Shhhhhh." Jo has shuddery breaths against Yesia's clothes, feeling that touch to her hair. Then she's there, curling into that embrace as she fights furiously to stop the flow of tears. Yesia's lips near her ears - those words - there must be a thin line between grief and passion for her. She inhales her scent as fingers touch her red hair, her nose nuzzling into her neck before she tries to claim those lips once more. There's nothing rational to her right now. Only the pull between raw hurt and anger, and the sexuality she's clearly familiar with. Any other night, Yesia might accept that affection, justify it, and bask in the aftermath. Tonight, even she has some decency. She draws away, one cradling the side of Jo's face so she can look her in the eye and shake her head. It's not accusing this time; just gentle and reflecting her apology. "No. Not now. Not when you...just no." She's gentle, but firm. "You can stay the night. To sleep. So you're not alone." The firmness with the gentleness has Jo looking Yesia in the face when she tries to kiss her. Any other night, there would be a plethora of crass remarks to give in response. It's the typical 'Jo' thing to do and say. That none comes at all in the space of silence to follows perhaps speaks more. A hand reaches up to drape over the greenrider's hand on the side of her face, looking into her eyes before she finally nods on exhale. Sleep. She looks to the bed for a moment before slowly gettin to her feet. Yesia holds her breath while she waits for a response, sighing with relief when she agrees. She stands too, gathering up the blanket around her to drag it along as she shutters the few glows that still light the weyr. It's childlike, but her progress is steady until she makes it to the last glow beside the big bed. At first, once Jo's standing, she looks lost as she casting a glance about her through a watery blur. Mostly, she looks tired, and there's a drag to her as she slowly slips out of her boots. Despite being topless, she keeps her pants on once she straightens and watches Yesia with the glows. Silence still marrs her features. Yesia doesn't drag, and indeed crawls onto the bed like second nature, still dragging the blanket along. She lacks the patience and energy to put it on properly, and even rumpled and half-hanging off the bed there's room enough for two beneath it. She's wearing it like an overlarge cape when she reaches out for Jo's hand and tugs her gently, the other arm held out and up to make a cave of the excess blanket. "Come on." It's rare to have Jo quiet or acquiescent. There's no innuendo where there should be - no suggestiveness in smiles and body language. The language seen is one of a weary woman that's had a far too long day, and perhaps later she would return with all her masks of bravado in place. Not tonight. Her hand is taken and she's easy to pull into the comfort of that blanket as she slides in. Seeking warmth, her fingers grip Yesia's once she's prone. Jo's silence should be unsettling, certainly, but Yesia just goes through motions; rolling away to shutter that last glow, going through the work of orienting the blanket around them both, and settling flush to the bluerider. She is patient and silent, while she hugs her and waits for the regularity of breath that indicates she's fallen asleep, however long it takes; it's not until she can count the breaths unbroken that she closes her own eyes, and for her, sleep is instant. Once prone, Jo is a little stiff. With Yesia moving close and hugging her, that stiffness melts away like the coming as the bluerider folds into her. It's awhile before Jo really does let herself fall asleep, but when she finally does, perhaps Yesia will hear that unmistakable, "Thanks," fall from her lips before taking that given comfort and letting down her guards enough to find true sleep.

Comments

Squishy (01:09, 11 October 2015 (PDT)) said...

Aww. Yesia. Jo. I love this moment between them.

Alida (01:50, 11 October 2015 (PDT)) said...

Awwww...JoJo. :( Yesia... for once, you did GOOD. :)

Jo (11:52, 11 October 2015 (PDT)) said...

Eventually when she gets past this moment she's in, Jo will suddenly look up as she remembers this night and go, "Yesia really did-? Did she just-?" And Tacuseth will go, « Yes. Yes she did. »

Yesia (12:04, 11 October 2015 (PDT)) said...

You all have so so so little faith in her as a good person. It's no wonder she continues to be a terrible shallow asshole.