Logs:Games of Light and Shadow
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| RL Date: 28 March, 2013 |
| Who: Rasavyth, Tacuseth, Jo, K'zin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rasavyth, curious, seeks out Tacuseth and arranges a meeting of their riders. Much and more is discussed and revealed, all the while K'zin is kept in the dark. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 5, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy, driving rain makes everything a wet and muddy mess today. |
| Mentions: N'ky/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Vienne/Mentions |
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| It starts as a tickle, as a niggling sensation at the edge of consciousness. Seeking the source initially reveals nothing. Closer examination as the sensation continues reveals the trespass of miniscule -- what are they? Bugs? They look like bugs, but with hinges and gears and things of Smithwork. Their inner workings are only visible when the transparent tendrils they together form shimmer with some inner light. A tenor purrs to life quietly, « Tacuseth? » The voice is searching, unsure if it has found the right mind, but curious. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Those 'bugs' get the sharp ting of metal sliding against metal, and the brassy blare of acknowledgement - the glare of a very hot sun with a hot, dry wind. The mind is bold, arrogant - a warrior's boisterous mind that meets that touch head-on whether he sought the right one or not. « Ya called me, » Tacuseth sends back, curious. His attention has been gotten. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) In the moments following the initial sensation of Tacuseth's touch, the bugs shimmer and dissolve, tendrils flattening and widening to encompass a reflection of the scorching heat and dry wind. The tenor purr picks up on the qualities obvious in the mind and his natural charm oozes through, as an added dimension of the heat and wind. « I have been hearing stories of you and your Jo, and wished to meet you for myself. I am Rasavyth, and I should like for my K'zin to meet your Jo, if she is free and willing. » (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Tacuseth's interest is piqued in the sudden stirring of the wind, and the low hum of what sounds like a crowd. « Have ya, » he sends, seeming to imitate that purr, though his voice is much deeper and heavy on the air it carries. Is that suspicion, even? There's only the silence of low hum, the shift of those heated winds, blasting from one direction, before he's suddenly back, his tone bold and firm. With a touch of recognition, « Yer one'o those youngin's, » he says, and one can hear his amusement. « Ya shouldn' be talkin' to the likes of us.» Us. He includes his lady, and seems to have broke communication since the low hum of the crowd suddenly falls silent, but then, abruptly, he sends the image of the garden ledge outside the bar. « We're there, » he says suddenly, showing his lady at one of the tables, engaged in feeding a little bronze firelizard. « We're curious. » That's the invitation, should they take it. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.
The new additions to Tacuseth's touch are observed, absorbed, and added in to Rasavyth's reflection of the blue's mind. « I have. » The bronze's tenor confirms, less purr to it now, more simple statement of fact. « We, » Beat. « Youngin's like to talk amongst ourselves. Hear the stories. Learn from our elders. » Curiosity colors his voice yet again, « Why should we not speak with you? You are one of our elders, are you not? Do you not have as much or more to offer than say, Cadejoth? » The little bronze's mind briefly mimics (with frightening accuracy) the chain-heavy mindtouch of the older bronze in question. « I may be of Hraedhyth's clutching, » Drums and fire, just like Hrae, though touched with that shimmering ooze of his, « but I feel more akin to Iesaryth. » His mind washes now with ocean waves and hidden secrets. He might say more, but he leaves it there. He waits, with heated air, gusty winds, and the whisper of crowds at the edges of their seat, waiting for a reaction. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) The low hum of the crowd is back, and seems to settle into something comfortable - nothing jarring or intimidating. It's tentative, at best, with Tacuseth feeling out the young mind of Rasavyth. « The elders do know more, » he seems to agree, his touch a less draconic wry. « I am one. But, » and the crowd spikes, briefly. « We are not-» like «-Cadejoth. We are... different. » There's no explanation on how, but, it's there. It's the next though - his mimicked touch along with those minded words about the queens, that has the feeling of rocks rubbing against each other in his laughter. Still, there's a mark of crafty curiosity intensified as he sends back, « Both are formidable in their own ways, » and there's certainly an unspoken but. Abrupt, « How? How are you akin to her? » (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) Rasavyth travels slowly. Both over-sized wings are raised, touching tips to form a rain barrier for the 5 foot tall (at the shoulder) bronze and his lifemate. K'zin is still getting wet, from the thigh down, but these work clothes, like most weyrlings wear, have seen worse things on them than pelting rain. Ras escorts K'zin to the foot of the steps, chivalrously before folding his wings and moving towards a rocky outcropping against the bowl wall. He doesn't seem to particularly mind the rain, but why sit on wet earth when you could sit on dry? K'zin nearly face-plants coming up the stairs with the rain coming down as it is. Fortunately, it's just a stumble - good enough to give those nearby a bit of a laugh and to turn the lad red-cheeked as he reaches the top. His eyes flit around until they find Jo and the firelizard. He hesitates a moment, then seems to remember that standing there is just getting him drenched, and he moves, with purpose towards the woman and her pet. "Rider Jo?" He asks in a polite baritone as he nears the edge of the table, though of course, having been privy to the image passed on from her lifemate, he knows he has the right person. "I'm K'zin. May I join you?" « My point precisely. » The tenor is back to the purr, a relaxing mimic of the feline sound. « You are different than Cadejoth. » He doesn't bother with the mental mimicry this time, apparently observant enough to recognize that showing his mind through the Cadejoth mask won't earn him friends here. « I am also different than Cadejoth. » The feeling of the difference is not the same as the sensation that existed when Tacuseth made his point, but also something there. No explanation provided. « How am I to learn what is worthwhile if he is the only one willing to speak with me? To teach me? » The sounds of the crowd that he reflects become intelligible for a moment so brief that it might not have even really happened as the whisper is caught on the wind and carried to Tacuseth: Knowledge is power. « She understands me. In ways Hraedhyth cannot. We are sometimes the same. I am still learning of her. » The last words are delivered with the feeling of an unfinished story, of blank pages still being written. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Mime, the firelizard, grabs yet another small morsel of meat from Jo's fingers as her dark, piercing gaze cuts toward the ledge where dragons could be seen coming and going. She catches the weyrling in question, watching him stumble into the dry part of the patio ledge amongst a few titters as she works. Her eyes only cut back to Mime when he approaches, not appearing to be watching him at all until he says her name. "That it is," she says in her greeting back to him, and there's a very slight curve to her lips. When he asks to join, she leans back and gestures with two fingers for him to sit, and now she steals a studying look at him. "K'zin, huh?" she idly echoes, her tone husky and warm as she continues Mime's feeding. "I recognized ya from the hatchin'. Tac tells me ya wanna meet with me. Not many do unless for one of two reasons." She pauses, passing a little morsel to the firelizard before she states, "To either wanna fuck me, or wanna fuck with me." By the slight crooked grin she sends his way, there might be the suggestion that she's joking. Maybe. Tacuseth seems to pick up on the nuances well, and the play on pronouns. There's a lingering amusement that's much like his rider's - disarming, and also borderline dangerous now. « And yers is like Cadejoth's? » he points it out with interest, not seeming to be one to let such things slide without question. The crowd simmers along with the blaring call, « What is it that ya wanna learn? » he can't help but to ask now. « There are others beyond Cadejoth. Lateth, Tsanth, Arekoth... » He mostly lists bronzes, and they're those either familiar with Cadejoth's, or apart from him. « Not much to learn from those not changin' winds. » Those that aren't the game-changers - those that weren't bronze or brown. He was a mere blue - or so, he seems to be painting himself just as. Then, when the crowd momentarily silences in regards to Iesaryth, « She is resilient, » he says on the whispered breezes, showing perhaps a certain fondness for the queen. Perhaps it's less him and more his rider, but it's hard to tell which. « Ya would learn much from her. She, and hers, understands. » Understand what, he doesn't say, exactly. « There are those of us that are of the sun, » and the heated sun is suddenly turned up, bright and flashy, « and those of us that are of the shadows, » and just like that, the sun is gone, and there's a low, cool breeze. There seems to be a connection with Tacuseth and the shadows as he sends, « She understands the need for both. » (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) K'zin doesn't look entirely at his ease as he slides into the seat across from the rider. He gives a little nod to confirm his name, brown eyes following her fingers as she feeds the firelizards. "Wish Ras was that size. Be a helluvalot easier to feed." This is noted with humor: clearly a defense mechanism for situations he feels awkward in. "Well," Color comes to his cheeks at her words, and stays as he formulates a response. "If you'd like to be technical about all this, Rasavyth asked me to meet you." Blind date by dragon? "But other than that let me respond by saying: weyrling rules and it looks like you could kick my ass if I tried anything, so I think you're probably safe for whatever comes up." He shifts a little in the seat, hands clasping in his lap. "I think he wanted me to meet you because he's curious about Iesaryth's lifemate and you stood with her at the Hatching when she made her announcement." At least he's straight-forward, and judging from his expression, the dragon is definitely the more interested of the two over this connection. That there's some unease coming off of K'zin, that only seems to fuel that crooked little smile of Jo's as she straightens up and tips the little shortcan towards Mime to show him that's it's completely empty. "Aw, it's not so bad," she says on feeling dragons, meeting his gaze then once he's seated. "Things'll get easier once they can hunt on their own. Should be soon enough for yers, right?" The color on his cheeks draws that smile more as she watches him, and the name of his dragon gets, "Rasavyth," as if she was tasting the name on her tongue in a slow purr. "Yes, Tacuseth seems to curious about him. I'm more curious as to how my blue's name, and mine's, ended up in his mind?" She looks at K'zin in wordless prompt. His next though on weyrling rules brings low laughter and a drawled out, "And yer a law-abidin' sort, are ya? Never break the rules and all that, huh?" She's openly teasing now. But the last, that has the teasing simmering down at least. Her amusement lingers as she nudges the empty shortcan away before she drops, "What's so curious about it, darlin'? Besides the obvious." There's a moment of static. The whole mindscape seems to freeze in place, wind mid-gust, heat mid-swelter, crowd-mid-call, call turning to drone in the empty space of Rasavyth's hard and fast thinking. The scene stutters and then resumes. « He is. » The little bronze admits. « But I am not. » This last is reiterated, and there's a subtle nuance to this that communicates a hope for change, not for himself, but for the man who shares his mind. « Though he shares all of himself with me, I do not share all of myself with him. Yet. He is not ready. » The crowd hushes, but a drone-- a mechanical drone, the sound of hundreds of thousands of tiny, transparent Smithwork bugs clinking together drowns out all other sound, « I want to learn everything. » In this expansive moment, the bronze reveals the briefest flash of his potential. He is a game-changer. The right game-changer for the right cause. « What Cadejoth, Lateth, Tsanth, and Arekoth have to offer is valuable. But not more valuable than what you, Iesaryth, and others who are different can offer. I am young. » This is an admittance that though tinged by disappointment on the bronze's part is simply a statement of fact. « But it will not always be so. » There is a pause. « That is part of what Iesaryth understands of me. That I too understand the need for all. Pawns and queens alike. » For another breath of a moment there is a flash: an extravagant game of dragon-chess with layers upon layers, light and dark, some dark that seem light and some light that seem dark. He appreciates it all. He loves the game. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) "Soon enough. If it's not soon enough, I'm going to go crazy from N'ky telling me about how badly Cai wants to hunt. I think he only tells me because she's driving him crazy with it." Crazy loves company. Just like misery. Sometimes they're even one in the same. "Rasavyth asks a lot of questions." K'zin, unlike so many weyrlings happy to chatter about their dragon for time unending, is tacit when that question in raised. At least he knows how to keep his mouth shut about the important things. "I'm-- well, mostly. I don't break the important ones." Though the blush touching his cheeks again might speak that what exactly is important has been changing. "I just-- I wondered why you did it. Not that it's bad," He hurries to add that. "But you had to know that what she was going to say was going to be a shock and a lot of people weren't going to like it. Why stand with her? I mean, it was her secret to tell." Beat. "Did she think something bad would happen to her for saying?" There's not much in the way of judgment in K'zin's baritone, just a genuine effort to understand something he clearly doesn't. The crowds spike; they're a little louder, but not loud enough to be hard to hear. Tacuseth sends the deep calls of the hot winds, « How can he be changed? Mine was, and is... » and there he sends the shadows. The dark, buffeting winds, the eerier moonlight, the creepiness of the unknown, and something darker. It's the edge of civilized. He falls silent, just the softer winds remaining, turning and twisting, moving rocks with its strength alongside those metalworks. Together, there's clinks and metal, the winds blanketing both. He listens. He understands, and it shows as those clinks, the play of the game, moves from the harsh sunlight into the cool shadows. He is the shadows. Finally, « Yer young, » he agrees, his deep voice level, « but ambitious. » He seems to like that, and so, there's a curious, subtle shift of those heated winds now. Something sharper, and not so much lazy like before. Touching his dragon poker game, « Even pawns can become queens in their own ways, » he says, seeming to be one with that sort of game. Even moreso than his rider, apparently, for he adds, « I've led her myself, but it's a long game when they're not ready. And, she has led me. I like the way ya think, Rasavyth. » Now he uses his name. Now, he really has this blue's attention. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "I met N'ky once," Jo muses, nodding once. "Before he Impresses. Such innocence in a place such as this." Beat. "Once they start to hunt, ya'll have more time to yerself, believe me," she says wryly now. "Looks like they're growin' well, at least. I bet their mamas and papas are proud." There's a little chuckle and then she moves on with K'zin speaking shortly on his bronze, to which the convict rider quips back a sardonic, "I bet." She pauses on breaking rules before she states, "Some clutchmates and I were breakin' rules. Got in trouble, too. Didn' do enough to be held back, but, sometimes it's good to bend, here and there. At least, for me." As to Aishani and the why, she doesn't speak again until he's done, watching him closely while the bronze firelizard settles down on the table. Since there's no more food to be had. Then, "Well," she gives casually, leaning back against the rocky wall behind her, "I didn' know what she was goin' to announce, first of all, and second..." she pauses before giving a shrug, "...I did it because whatever it was goin' to be, I got it. I got her. There's history here, and she needed me to back her just in case, so I did. In case that history wanted to do her in for whatever reason. I still back my decision." Brow lifting, "Most think she was wrong to announce it at all," she notes, wryly. "Are ya of that camp?" « The how will take time. And careful handling, on my part, and the parts of those I choose to ally myself with. » It is not said aloud, but does not need to be said that he asking for discretion on the part of the blue. « I may, in time, ask for help in shaping him. I believe what I need of him is there. Deep, deep down. Where he dares not believe it exists. I am careful; I am patient; I am persistent. » Each statement is accompanied by a little sensation of digging. Not digging in the mind of the blue, but an echo of the framework Rasavyth works at each time K'zin is asleep or otherwise engaged. « It is a long game. » He admits. He doesn't need to admit to being ambitious. It's been made plain to the blue, though there is a sense that he is not so free with every dragon he meets. « But it is an exciting one, is it not? Much to be lost, and gained, especially by those with wits to seize an opportunity. » As he clearly is: he's here, speaking with Tacuseth, is he not? He obviously feels that there is something of a kindred spirit in the blue, approval from the young dragon for the sentiment of pawns becoming queens; he agrees. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Tacuseth is easy in sending immediately, « There is many secrets that I keep. Even hers. Even my own. » There's a pause, a shift of the winds again to something gentler before he sends on shaping, « Aid does come in all forms, » he agrees. « Ask, and ya'll find, here. We will be watchin'. » We. He immediately includes his lady, the gentler winds seeming to be there for those digs. There's amusement on the game, that crowd simmering still as he sends back, « Just protect yerself should the game bites back at ya. Reach far, but keep alert. » There's a sense that Tacuseth was a survivalist - that he looks at everything as a game, a battle, a play of intrigue that needs to be beat so long as he gets all of his pleasures at the end. He is easy to talk to now, despite his earlier warnings - even though, those warnings of something sinister lurking beneath those crowds and the brassy calls and the winds has never left. Despite that, « I may be amendable to teach, » he now gives out, his study of the bronze open and laid bare. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "He mentioned. Said you were kinda hot. So I guess we know which category he falls into." K'zin responds, expression deadpan until he gets the end and then a wide grin breaks. "Hrae is always banging her drums as a lullaby. I think it's a wonder they can sleep at all. But they do seem to be growing. I'd say I'd be excited when they slow down and need fewer oilings, but I guess fewer oilings amount to just about the same thing because of the added surface space." Weyrlings just can't win in that regard. "Yeah..." The word pulls forth from him slowly, "I am finding that breaking certain rules are a welcome relief. I get headaches." He taps. "Sometimes extra drinks or other things help." His cheeks are flaring again, so there's more story there he's not telling. K'zin gives a simple shake of his head in response to the question of how he feels about Aishani's announcement. "I think maybe her timing could've been better. Pretty sure Hatching Feast was supposed to be all about me." He winks towards the bluerider, grinning with good-humor. "And I'm not sure what her motives were for making sure there were so many visitors around to hear it too. Seems just-- a pretty public way to do it, for someone dealing with political tension from double brown-caught gold flights." He's just curious, it would seem. "Have you been friends with her long? Or was it more the history that was important to you?" Curious, too, about Jo's motives. To that first, "Of course I am," Jo seems to agree with N'ky's assessment of herself, and is rather cocky about it. "And I dunno if yer boy fits in either category. He was freakin' out over a couple showing an overt display of affection near us." Which she clearly found to be amusing. Dark eyes suddenly dart towards the ledge where her blue is for a brief moment before she looks K'zin over with an odd look. It's so quick that it's likely not noticed, especially since she continues on with a blithe, "So yer a rulebreaker after all. Ya did have a look about ya," and circles a finger about towards him in almost a teasing manner. "I'm a fan of extra drinks and other things, myself. Tac was, too." Jo was a rulebreaker. She turns to the topic of Aishani and the hatching feast, keeping silent as she listens and nods a few times in acknowledgement of his opinions here and there. Only at the end, "How about I send ya some good wine for the hatchin' feast not bein' all about ya, when ya get yer weyr?" she offers easily. "I'm sure yer folks weren' too happy about that, either. If ya had folks that showed up." On the questions, "No," she gives on being friends with her long, "but even if we weren', I would have still backed her. I have my reasons. I don' give a shit about the history," she adds in a drawl. "It's about her and her lettin' folks know who she is and that connection to this Weyr. It's about not hidin' anymore. Somethin' tells me ya know a bit about this history." The shimmers in Rasavyth's oozy touch brighten to sparkles briefly in appreciation for the secret-keeping and the aid. « I shall ask, when the time is right. Until then, though I am young, and perhaps sometimes because I am young, I can be useful. If I can be of use to you, do ask. » The words of warning are pulled into the ooze and absorbed, so clearly that wasn't lost on him, the sunny heat baking a shell onto the ooze, like dried, cracked earth. Rasavyth is not intimidated by the darkness. In fact, he seems as blase about the fact that the blue is a creature of shadow as he is about the rain pouring down. It matters, but what does it matter? There's healthy respect for it, of course, but not fear. « I would be grateful. I suspect I could figure many things out on my own, but not as swiftly as if you were to teach me. I am also certain that you have some things to teach that I can learn nowhere else. » His confidence in that is clear. He is unbothered by the blue's study. He is not laid bare, however. He never is. He does allow the motives - his love of the game, his ambition and that which will get him to where he wants to be: his wicked intelligence is displayed for examination. He's two months old, and a very dangerous dragon. If he survives weyrlinghood, the game will change. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Tacuseth is all casual and ease as he sends back a deep, « Useful. Yes, ya could well be. We will keep ya in mind. » There's a pause before he adds, seeming pleased that the young bronze isn't intimidated by the shadows - by the darkness and what lies within it - « There are many things learned beyond this place, » he sends on things learned, the myriad of images now sent in a whirl - of the outside of bars, other Weyrs, remote lands, other nameless dragons that seem to be of note - too quick to perhaps pick one out to study at length. Together, it's like a promise of things beyond, of fueling ambition. This blue seems to know about that, his brassy calls and the crowds rising up to call for one of bronze mettle, but there's a blue hide present. That Rasavyth is young and yet full of dangerous promise, he well picks up. How dangerous, his winds seem to whisper, remains to be seen. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "That was probably before he got laid." K'zin, the best best bud that could ever be, sharing N'ky's business so cavalierly. "So you might have to reconsider his categorical designation next time you meet. Except I don't know if he's going to be breaking any rules. Cailluneth is a little more sensitive than Rasavyth is, I think." The assessment is, indeed, missed, his eyes falling to the table top where his fingers have risen to hang off the edge. "That makes at least two of us. Three, really. Maybe more." K'zin's grin turns almost sly. "I think good wine would go a long way to smoothing over my hurt feelings." Now his tone is playful, "A quality beer might go over better though." His expression turns a touch sad, "My sister came. Mom must've been busy. And dad-- well I'm not a member of the family anymore, so that explains his absence. Not happy is a mild way to put it. At least my sister's still talking to me." On the matter of the events of the hatching feast, he doesn't dance around his curiosity, "What were your reasons?" He doesn't seem demanding in his question, just the same casual curiosity. "I know a little. I wasn't here for any of it. K'del's told me some. I'm sure there's lots more I don't know." Beat. "But it's only my business in so far as I'm to be a rider here. I feel I'm prying a bit into things that mightn't concern me. But he's curious. So..." He, Rasavyth, of course. Laughing, "Oh did he," Jo states more than asks, on the green weyrling, seeming almost impressed. "Then, should I run into him again, I'll ask that nice couple to sit next to us and entertain us with their gropin' and their tonguin', then. Least I can do." Right. Talk of wine then and the sly grin that follows earns him a little suggestive rise and drop of her brows along with a, "Quality beer, then. I'll show up unannounced and everythin', and hand it over to ya myself." It even sounds a bit inappropriate, too, though it doesn't linger. It ebbs in light of family, and there's the odd, "Ya look like one of my brothers. The one just a turn older than me. Almost uncanny." Pause. "Yer family from around here, K'zin?" she asks now, regarding him steadily. "Sucks about yer dad. Mine never showed either when I Impressed, but then, I haven' seen them since I was 15, so." There's a little shrug, showing that perhaps it's of little consequence to her. On the feast and its intrigues, his open curiosity gets a mysterious smile from the convict rider as she answers on reasons, "Does it matter?" She doesn't all that surprised to hear the bronzerider's name then, prompting, "And tell me. What did K'del tell ya, hmm?" Pause. "So yer not into this business," she notes on the last with a small smirk. "But, yer dragon is? I find that strange, darlin'. Him bein' so young and all, askin' about shit that don' need concern him yet." « I am eager to learn. » This is in his calm 'statement of fact' tone of voice. « Once we are able to travel, where should I start? » His mind snags as many of the images that slide by as he can for later study, each that he manages to catch ensnaring into webs of spun gossamer ooze, being wrapped by the bugs that compose the ooze of his thoughts. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) Tacuseth encompasses that eagerness with his shifty temperance, hazy and yet bold all the same. « Soon, » he sends, and if a nod could be felt, it's here. Images of Cadejoth is served up before he sends, « Know all sides. Get in with him. In with those most influential. Who ya are... » and there's an image of an old toolkit that looks like it could be someone's, the lid shut and locked. Befriend, but don't show your true intentions and ambitions, he seems to be saying. Perhaps, the blue has experience in such. « Learn the land, » he sends on where to start, and an image glimmers by of just outside the Weyr, then further. « Know the land. Know all of it. » Images flit by of further and further. Tacuseth has studied. Every mountain, every hill, and every landmark. Somehow, he seems to think this is something important to know. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "Sounds like you're good company. You can do that for me anytime, too, you know." K'zin offers. There's a touch of a blush on his cheeks though, perhaps betraying that he might not be as experienced as he pretends. "Show up unannounced all you like. If I have company already, though, I expect you to join us." His tone is managed well to allow for the possibility of two interpretations. "15, huh?" He looks at Jo more closely now, "If I had to guess that'd put us at almost even. Haven't seen mine since I was twelve." Truthfully, she'd have a few turns on him, but at least his impression of his age is on the flattering side. "Guess there is something to be said for having a dragon. Sort of a new family." Beat. "Jo, is it true that you were in the mines?" Soft brown eyes turn up to find the woman's face, again, genuine curiosity, not judgment. "It probably does matter what your reasons were, but if you're not inclined to say, I won't try to make you." True to his word, he moves on, "K'del just gave me a run down of what he knew of the history of the Vijays and the Weyr. He told me his part of it. A little about Aishani's Dad's death." It's simple enough, and his tone and expression are truthful. His grin is rueful at the next. "Strange is a good word for Rasavyth. It seems like his mind is all grown just waiting for his body to catch up. He's not like a normal baby dragon. He says Iesaryth understands being that way. He thinks, strongly, that I should be interested in all of this. More than I am. But..." He shrugs, looking a bit sheepish. To Tacuseth, Rasavyth's shimmer intensifies, attention absolute, edged slightly with pleasure. Could it be that the young Rasavyth has already figured this course of action on his own and has already begin to work his insidious way into the hearts and minds of the pieces of his chess game? « I shall endeavor to do so. » His attention to the instruction of the importance of geography and topography is even more intense. « My K'zin struggles with this. I shall have to learn it for him. » "I might," Jo counters on the first, the response quick and without thinking. "And, such talk of joinin' in might have someone like me thinkin' ya mean for somethin' ya don', darlin'," she adds, sending K'zin a look despite her quirk of lips. "My mind's never thinkin' innocent." Or decent, for that matter. She inclines her head upon hearing that he hasn't seen his in a long time too, stating "Guess that makes us sort of orphans, eh?" But then, there's that unexpected question about her being in the mines, narrowing eyes being the only betrayal of a reaction. Head tilting slightly, "Depends on who told ya," is her prompt answer to that. There's a wordless prompt for such a name to drop. The rest gets that initial silence until he tells what K'del had told him, the bluerider nodding briefly to that grunting. "So, yer dad gets killed by this Weyr," she drawls idly, eyes going to Mime momentarily, "and ya show up, turns later as Weyrwoman. Sounds like she has enough reason, darlin'. As for my own reasons, it don'," she adds on it mattering, a touch wry. "Only matters to one. Ya ask much of a woman ya don' know," she observes, pointing it out. "Should I ask somethin' equally personal in return? Like how ya broke the rules, in detail? With names?" It's deadpan, but that curiosity for a weyrling seeking one such as her out hasn't waned. The last on his dragon earns a breezy, "So why aren'cha? He'll change ya, ya know." Her look is pointed, and she jerks a chin towards the ledge. "They all do. One way or another. Ya may not care now, but, eventually he'll wear ya down. Make ya see things his way." "Sounds like you're extra good company, then?" K'zin's tone is questioning, but he can't help but laugh lightly, cheeks blushing. The talk of being orphans has him sobering. "Yeah. It does, in a way." A hand lifts to ruffle through his hair, self-consciously. Orphan. He hadn't apparently thought of it that way before. "Rasavyth told me. I don't know which dragon told him." He gives a little shrug. "I just-- wondered if it was true. I know Bones was in a mine." Rumor does put K'zin and Bones sharing a few drinks from time to time, so that might say something about whether it matters much to him. He stays silent on the matter of Aishani's reasons, perhaps not knowing enough yet to speak on the particulars without sounding like a wherrybrain. "Asking doesn't usually hurt a person. Don't ask, don't get." K'zin answers matter-of-factly. He folds his arms onto the table, leaning forward to look at the bluerider, expression serious. "If I told you the details, do you suppose it would be enough to warrant your secret? The details aren't terribly juicy, and I'd be lying to say it was." A poker player, he is not. His dragon plays the game, not he. Not yet. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know. I just-- none of this ever mattered to me before. I was just an apprentice Smith. A nobody. I guess he cares because he wants us to be a somebody. I just never needed to know before. I'm still wrapping my head around-- well, that he's a bronze." And all the implications of the color of his hide. Tacuseth flows winds through those shimmers, seeming pleased that Rasavyth finds no fault in this course of action. « Good, » he says, blue clearly thinking that this is a skill most valuable. On hearing about K'zin struggling, he sends the image of his Jo in the records room, pouring over maps. « If he won', then ya will do, » he agrees, letting the image dissolve. « My Jo keeps detailed maps, » he offers, likely in their weyr. « The land changes. New maps are made. » (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "Ya blush like N'ky," Jo also observes, openly laughing now. "And yeah. I'm better than good company. No one's complained." She sobers a bit on the matter of who told who, stating, "Well. Very few would know about me, and if yer sayin' that was learned through dragon, then I have a good idea whose it was." Which means there's to be some hunting later on, sometime. She nods on Bones before she says, "Yeah, he was. Yer good friends with Bones?" There's quiet laughter on asking, but the bluerider seems to latch onto details as she answers, "Might warrant it. Does it need to be juicy? Maybe I'm just as nosy as ya are." So leaning forward now, "So how about it? A secret for a secret." The last about potential and being somebody earns a sober look, brief as it is before the cavalier one. "Well, Yer a somebody whether ya like it or not. Folks out there, they see yer on a dragon and that says somethin' to them. How much of a somebody's up to ya and that bronze of yers. Ya might end up catchin' a queen down the line, for all ya know. Bein' Weyrleader. Looks like that young bronze of yers is onto somethin' early is all." "Yeah, well, I couldn't leave him being the only one, could I. What kind of friend would that make me?" As if K'zin can control the flush of blood to his face. "If I thought really hard, I might be able to come up with a name, but Ras-- he hides things in my head, if that makes any sense." He gives a little shrug, expression telling that he doesn't fully understand it himself. "I'd like to be good friends with Bones. He's good company. Plus, every time my dragon tells dirty jokes in my head, I see his face. Ras is bored with the expressions he has to work with from my limited interactions with him so far. Of course, keep up your talk of being good company and dropping by unannounced with quality beer and Ras might start using your expressions. Which I must say I'd prefer. You're prettier than Bones." He leans forward a little bit more. "Alright. Secret for a secret. It was Sabella. In the tunnels near the dragon infirmary." With the candlestick!! No, no. Wrong game. "When we were supposed to be studying. Or working. Or something." He sucks in a breath and then lets it out. "And we kissed." Super secret, right? He leans back, nervous as she speaks of catching queens and Weyrleading. "Yeah. I guess that is possible." Beat. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a little more interest in things." He swallows a little hard, not looking very comfortable with all the possibilities just noted, as though he'd been ignoring their existence for as long as he could and now has been brought to face them as real. « My K'zin was going to ask Vienne about teaching him more geography. » There's a brief flash of a memory that includes the former Harper singing a teaching song to the lad in the Living Cavern, « Perhaps your Jo could help him. He does seem to like listening to her. » The bronze's tone is thoughtful, and it's clear that in this moment he's thinking Tacuseth's lifemate, and the possibilities for her uses to him. It's not meant to be a crude thought, just evaluative as they have previously evaluated him for his usefulness. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) The image taken in stride, « We know of her, » Tacuseth gives, and there's a curious little spike of interest there. « Oswinth's is a good choice. » There's almost a breath of a pause for there to be said a 'safe' choice, but there's no words to this wind of words. Either way, the blue seems to approve of Vienne, lending her name the weight of the winds and the murmur of the crowd. In the pensiveness of the second the blue is muted for a bit before he comes back with, « She makes anyone feel at ease. Yes, she could help him. They may end up learnin' from each other. » Anything's possible as far as he knows. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) "A non-blushin' friend, I'd wager," Jo quips back, giving over a few snickers. "And, I have a name. Ones that know, they wouldn' have told save for this one, apparently. Does he hide things from ya often?" She finds this of note since she's asking, and hearing about Bones does lend a fondness and familiarity in her tone for the gardener. "He's definitely good people," she agrees, nodding. "Far more to him than ya can see." She laughs on the compliment nonetheless, a brow arching towards K'zin as she drawls, "Keep it up and I'll say worse things than me showin' up unannounced. Enough to keep ya blushin' for the next couple of months." As for secrets, there's a single blink upon hearing that familiar name, but that's all that shows of her reaction to it. Giving him an exasperated look, "Awww, ain' nothin' wrong with kissin'!" she says to that. "I thought ya meant the dirty stuff. Very well, then, I don' know ya enough to get anythin' else outta ya. Ya clearly already got mine," which was confirmation that yes, she was in the mines. She was a convict. She could see that he's uncomfortable with the last topic, the bluerider dropping her chin before she answers him with, "Ya got time, darlin'. Despite yer bronze's eagerness, ya gotta long while before ya need to be thinkin' all about that. Best forget it all and enjoy this time in the meantime, right? Ya'll change when ya see the need to." Inevitable, but she doesn't need to say it, right? « That is a skill. My K'zin frequently manages it, but it could use some honing. Perhaps spending more time with your Jo will hone that talent. » Rasavyth's tone is thoughtful. Then the reflection of the heat and the wind and the crowd puckers suddenly, then flattens out again. Then puckers, and again. « My youth betrays me. » The bronze's shimmer ripples with amusement. « I'm afraid I'll need to take my K'zin back to the barracks to oil me. » The feelings of Tacuseth's reflected consciousness begins to fade into his transparent ooze that shimmers. « It has been a pleasure, Tacuseth. I am sure we will speak again soon. » He'll see to that. (Rasavyth to Tacuseth) « In time, » Tacuseth seems to believe that such a skill can be cultivated - why not? He holds up the crowd, the heat and the wind anytime it falters, and when Rasavyth speaks of oiling, the blue gives the shimmering a soothing blanket of wind that could temporarily relieve him of the itch. Another skill. « Go see to yerself, Rasavyth, » he sends, that deep brass as easy as the breeze that blows now. « This has been quite illuminatin'. Call, if ya need of us. » He puts in for both him and his rider, the invitation extended whether he had consulted Jo or not about it. The blue can make his own friends, too. (Tacuseth to Rasavyth) Amusement plays on K'zin's face but the topic of N'ky and his friendship is let to slide. "All the time. It'd be easier if he weren't so much smarter than me." He groans softly then, "You know, if I weren't so tired of seeing Bones leer at me in my head with my dragon's voice, I'd try to discourage you, but I'd definitely prefer your face, especially when the jokes end up coming up right as I'm drifting off to sleep. It's made for some-- strange dreaming." Then he's defensive, "I told you it wasn't juicy." But is is breaking a rule! "I'll try to do better next time." He half-jokes, half-promises. Her last words are taken in with appreciation. "I'd definitely prefer that. But maybe a balance might be best. Can't always have just what we want, right? But compromise isn't always a bad thing." As realization of his lifemate's need hits him. He slides out of the seat, "Ras is itching. I've got to go oil him. But-- I'll see you around soon?" Though unplanned, apparently he's enjoyed the chat. Maybe dragons are good match makers after all! Or at least good at finding good conversational partners. "Some dragons are," Jo says on being smarter, amused by his answer. "And, perhaps next time, then. I'll say some dirty jokes and ya can replace his face with mine. All will be well in yer strange dreamin' world." There's laughter for it, even through the fact of his secret not being juicy. There's acknowledgment of compromises, the bluerider seeming to know of that as she says, "I agree. It's not. Good to have a balance with yer dragon, at least. Ya don' wanna be at odds forever. Ya might find the beast getting' ya in trouble on purpose, like one clutchmate's own back when I was doin' the weyrlin' thing." But K'zin has to go and the convict rider looks likely to stay there a bit longer with Mime, the woman sending him a studying grin as she says to him, "Go on, take care of yer beast. Reckon we will, eventually. I'm around, if I'm in." There's a lazy two finger salute for him when he goes. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Games of Light and Shadow"Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 30 Mar 2013 05:30:32 GMT.
._. I liked it better when he was just a pervy baby. (No, really, this was really interesting.) I'm sure Jo is aware of the dragon conversation, or will be. Meanwhile it feels like Ras is using Jo's company to distract K'zin, so that he can talk to Tacuseth. Puppetmasters, the lot of you. (Except K'zin. XD)
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