Logs:Bright Sides
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| RL Date: 2 October, 2014 |
| Who: X'vae, Z'riah, Izazeth, Yizibeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The new transfers move into their swinging bachelor pad. |
| Where: Ready for Roommates Weyr (X'vae & Z'riah's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 12, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Bristia/Mentions, Moriyah/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: First played scene for these characters! Rounding them out, please forgive any inconsistencies. |
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| Ready for Roommates Weyr The ledge is nothing special, just an outcropping of smooth rock with a depression against the wall that is the only draconic comfort available. It's big enough for a couple of small dragons, at the least, though; so hopefully that makes up for the fact that the entry to the weyr is only human-sized. Inside, though, the humans are in for a surprise. A long rift in the stone makes for a narrow living room with rough walls, its floor completely bare of furniture. But the far side--that's the real treasure here. Four separate rooms have been carved out of the stone, two small ones a step up from the living room, one slightly larger one above them, and a tiny little alcove above that. They're all lacking a front wall, leaving them open to the room below. A set of stone stairs leads up to the upper room, while sturdy handholds have been carved up from it to the alcove. All in all, it's a great find for a rider with a family or maybe even just a group of good friends.
"I think I lost my favorite pants," is Z'riah's response, crouched down over the bag where he must have assumed he'd put them. "How do you even lose pants." It's not a real question and the volume makes it clear he's talking to himself more than the bluerider, anyway, but it's probably easier for him to focus on that than the fact that they're really here in their new home. "I get that one, by the way," he adds with a gesture toward the largest room above the two lowest that he's claimed, evidently giving up his search for his pants and rising back to standing. "Opportunity to find a new set of favorite pants." X'vae has a Positive Outlook answer for everything. "I'll even let you borrow my favorite pair in the meantime," not that their dimensions make it much conducive for that, unless he means the pair of soft brown ones with the drawstring waist (which he probably does). Sacrifices must be made, after all, and X'vae is not one to miss an opportunity to play hero, however small the cause. His eyes go to the large room and back to Z'riah, "You think so?" There's a flick of his eyes toward it again and though it's not wholly an honorable thing to do, it's certainly the kind of thing that boyhood friends would do to one another as he suddenly takes off to claim the territory by physical presence. Z'riah could probably come up with any of dozens of comebacks about why he doesn't want new favorite pants or why he wouldn't want to borrow X'vae's favorite pants. But he recognizes that look. And once the bluerider is bolting for the room, Z'riah is close on his heels. And just as not honorable, though it's not really one of his best qualities anyway, in the way he grabs for X'vae's shirt to try pulling him back so he can get in the lead. "I called it, asshole!" Since this is all too familiar a game, X'vae is almost certainly expecting the pull, but he goes with it, and spins around to grapple Z'riah from behind seeking to trip them both up, but in a way that takes them to the ground more gently than not where the tussle is sure to continue. Amidst the familiar wrestling, the bluerider protests, "There are two rooms of the same size and only one larger, obviously we ought to share the larger one and each take a smaller one for ourselves." Obviously. One might wonder that they didn't think to discuss the division of the weyr's rooms before asking for it, but clearly these are clever men. Z'riah hits the ground with an oof and turns on the bluerider with a grin that's probably bigger than he'd like it to be if he was more fully aware of its presence. It's a regular enough sight for X'vae, though, the greenrider with his guard down. Also the greenrider trying to get the upper hand so he can pin his friend to the ground. "You and your damned equality, Xev. I thought you might like making sure your bitches don't have to walk by me to run away in the morning." Clearly he doesn't care about his bitches. "And I thought you liked making sure they did," so doesn't it stand to reason that Z'riah should give way to X'vae's way of thinking? "And anyway," because he certainly isn't one to abandon his lady friends to Z'riah's extremely questionable mercy, "Not that I'm planning on having anyone up," given how he's moping still about Moriyah, "But if I take this one," he points after rolling back onto his rump, legs half-bent and sprawled haphazardly before him, "they'll stand a fair enough chance." Not that they much ever managed to escape Z'riah's notice in Monaco... Well, that's true. Z'riah does enjoy accidentally on purpose running into X'vae's lady friends. And he'd probably prefer to keep doing that whether the bluerider gives way to the suggestion that he might not if he gets the bigger room. "Fiiiine." He's not putting up that much of a fight, evidently. He leans up, looking from the other man, to the indicated room. "We'll each take a smaller room. To be all fair and whatever. And do something fun with the bigger one." He means that, but he still sounds kind of like he finds this idea hard to process. "Man. A 'proper' weyr will take some getting used to." "Can I have the one directly under the alcove?" X'vae asks after shifting so he can tilt his head to look up at the stack of rooms, obviously thinking of something more than just what he sees. A visionary. "I bet a poker table would fit nicely in that larger one. And chests and so on, for storage," since the smaller rooms don't allow for much in the way of space for furniture if one wants a decently sized bed. X'vae looks to Z'riah then. "Think you can manage?" Making the adjustment, he surely means. It's not the first time he's been 'just checking,' gently, to see if Z'riah hasn't changed his mind about doing all this after all. "I guess?" returns Z'riah, not sure why it would matter that that's the one X'vae wants. He's clearly looking at it now as though trying to figure out exactly that, though. And whether or not he ought to be putting up some sort of fight for it. But nothing, evidently, comes to him. As with more or less all the other times the bluerider has checked in with him, the greenrider brushes it off with, "Of course." Which is soon followed by, "There are hundreds of people here that I haven't slept with. I'll manage just fine." "Great!" X'vae is quick to enthusiastically take the arguably questionable response as a firm yes, practically bouncing a little as he pulls up onto his feet and offers a hand down to Z'riah, grinning. "Right, because all you care about in life is where you're sticking your cock next." They've known each other long enough for him to know that's not even close to the case, not that it isn't an important consideration in life, as they'd both surely agree. Z'riah accepts the helping hand up to his feet before he says, "Not all of us are into that touchy feeling relationship bullshit that you like so much, Xev. Some of us are happy getting off with whoever's convenient." Now that their territories have been claimed, the greenrider goes to at least glance into his hole in the wall. "I can make this work." X'vae rolls his eyes openly at Z'riah, but doesn't press the topic. Instead, he follows suit, nodding. "I think I'll get a twin." Bed. "And I'll need to talk to the masons. And Smiths." Then, leaning around to Z'riah's nook, "You don't mind if I make some minor changes, do you?" Since they've never lived together, Z'riah probably doesn't have the benefit of knowing what 'minor' means in this context, but give it time! "Why would you do that?" asks Z'riah, glancing into X'vae's nook with a disapproving frown. Why would anyone take a smaller bed when there's plenty of room for something bigger. "Unless you're planning on doing bunks. But I'm not sure that will help you get laid." He looks at the bluerider himself. "Sure, whatever." Minor changes seem harmless. And maybe it's just him that doesn't expect to stay here forever. "That's the point. To not get laid." X'vae answers. "If I don't have a romp-worthy bed, I can't be tempted to bring back innocent girls for you to terrorize." See the logic? There's almost certainly more that have to do with X'vae's very manly feelings of loss in regard to Moriyah, but everyone knows they shouldn't talk about that. Then he's moving back into his nook, running a finger across the wall. "I guess we ought to clean first." It's a thought, though he doesn't sound especially thrilled. Z'riah's expression twists in a way that suggests he thinks that's stupid. Plain and simple. "Not getting laid is the exact opposite of what you need, Xev. You don't always gotta make everything so difficult. Besides, you're denying me the pleasure of terrorizing innocent girls." How is that fair? At least he doesn't point out that there's probably not a lot of innocence going on with any girls either of them hook up with. As for cleaning? "Don't they have people for that? We can just get them to do it." "How inconsiderate of me," is X'vae's only response, his smile and tone both typically bemused with Z'riah's predictable commentary. "I suspect they don't do thorough cleans of personal weyrs unless you pay. Do you have the marks? 'Cuz I don't." It ends with raised brows directed toward the greenrider. Meanwhile, Izazeth's warm baritone traces the familiar route to Yizibeth's mind as he finishes his preliminary examination of the old talon marks on the ledge, « Do you mind sharing? » The ledge, the wallow, the weyr. If only Z'riah had a bed to throw himself on right now. Then he could look as dramatic as the roll of his eyes suggests he feels. "No," he says as far as marks go, not sounding very happy about it. Cleaning is boring. Yizibeth has been perched daintily on the edge of the ledge, tail wrapped around her legs and wings folded against her body, not caring very much about exploring their new home. Barely looking like she wants to be here at all. « Z'riah says we have to share. » Izazeth's response isn't overly slow in coming, but as ever, he's thoughtful and his words are delivered carefully. « I wouldn't like you to be uncomfortable. If you would like, I can find an empty ledge to spend my nights. » Rather than disturb the green. "Then we'll get our feather dusters and hop to," X'vae remarks with a grin that stops just short of laughter. "You'll be thrilled to hear I brought things to clean with." Not from Monaco, but borrowed locally. Whether or not Z'riah is thrilled, the bluerider heads for the narrow living area again to break out the supplies. "Remind me to smother you while you sleep one of these days," is Z'riah's chipper response before he's, very reluctantly, falling in to help with the clean up. « No. » It's said quickly. Yizibeth turns her head in the blue's direction, eyes whirling slowly with only a hint of a shade that suggests she's not comfortable. But it's the Weyr, rather than the blue himself, that makes her uncomfortable. She knows him. He's familiar, safe. « I don't want to be alone. » Not that she's ever actually alone. That's not the point. There's laughter from X'vae, but there often is and it's only the beginning of his cheerfulness as he starts singing (at least they're bawdy) bar songs to help pass the time as they clean. Just like the familiar process underway within, so too is the way Izazeth looks at Yizibeth with mingled concern and certainly fondness. He crosses to the green and settles himself beside her, letting his hide touch hers though without the weight of him on her, a companionable closeness they've shared since they broke shell. « I won't leave you then. » It's simple and infused with gentle reassurance. It's some moments later that he asks, « What don't you like? » With Izazeth's warmth against her, the green's tail loosens somewhat around her forelegs and her delicately shaped head tilts to lean against his neck. « It's cold and hard and I don't know anyone. Z'riah doesn't even know if he likes it. Why did we come here if nobody likes it? » Because clearly Yizibeth and Z'riah are the only ones that count as anybody. « I miss my wallow. » Fortunately she'll probably forget about that soon enough. Izazeth shifts so he can unfurl one of his exotically colored wings to wrap over the green, drawing her in a little more. « Think how many new admirers you'll have. Can any green look as fine as you? » He's not hitting on her; he never hits on her, not even really during flights though he certainly chases with great zeal. He simply shares X'vae's happy talent for silver linings. « Soon we will know others, you'll see. You've known, » if in passing, « Leiventh and Saindyth and the others in Savannah from Monaco, » so, see? There are some. « It was important to come here, Yizi. » His tone is both apologetic and resolute. « It wasn't right to stay in Monaco with things as they've been. » X'vae is sure of that, and so is he. Leaving was the Right Thing To Do. It's an annoying habit of theirs, collectively. Where the blue wasn't pressing his weight against her, Yizibeth doesn't seem to share any inhibitions about leaning against him, especially not tucked under his wing the way she ends up. She leans with a heavy sigh as she listens to him, as though she doesn't expect him to say anything less than he does but is still somehow not satisfied by all of it. « Can I still visit home? » She still considers Monaco home. « I want to lay in the sand. There can't be anything wrong with that. » Right? Izazeth's hesitation is telling. His breath rises and falls evenly, and then finally, « Some might not like for you to return. We do not leave on the best of terms. » Like thieves in the night, really. « But we wouldn't blame you, » both, « for going back. » More quietly and meaningfully is his next, suffused with his very earnest gratitude, « But it means a great deal to us, to have you here with us. » Yizibeth's sadness is palpable. She might not realize she's sharing it so openly with Izazeth right away, but even when she must realize it, it only barely fades. She thrives on being liked and accepted. Knowing that she might not be either in the Weyr that has always been her home isn't something she's prepared to deal with. The green is silent for some long moments before she tells the blue, « We aren't going back. Not without you. » Izazeth isn't quiet, but he is careful. He doesn't hesitate because that's not the natural ebb and flow of a conversation, to stop to think it through all the way. So he thinks his answer through as best he can in the moment he can afford to take without the silence becoming awkward. It pains him, but only because of her great sadness, to say, « We are not going back. This is our home now. » He can't leave it at that though. « We'll explore it together, okay? Someday, it won't be as sad to be here. » But he doesn't promise it will ever be happy. He misses old home, too, but it cannot be home anymore. « Okay, » agrees the green readily enough, lifting her head to press her muzzle against his cheek in a display of her usual, easy affection. Yizibeth doesn't seem to have anything else to add, but she's content, just now, to be pressed companionably against her clutchmate. Sharing this weyr will definitely not be a problem for her. |
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