Logs:Hurt
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| RL Date: 12 July, 2014 |
| Who: A'rist, Jadzia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A'rist has questions for Jadzia. He doesn't really answer hers, though. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 3, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
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| Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr A'rist's hair is that much the darker - and shinier - for its dampness as he moves through the lower caverns. His jacket has been tossed over one shoulder, a fresh shirt clinging to his chest, boots still showing signs of the dirt and gore that he'd otherwise cleansed from his recent trip. It's late, but not so late the bronzerider is seeking his weyr, his dragon. What he seems to be seeking is a drying warmth. It's what brings him to the nighthearth, what sends him for one of the last remaining chairs near the hearth. Jadzia is long since bathed enough that her unbraided hair is dry, but light and wavy in that freshly cleaned way that some girls probably like and she finds moderately annoying. She's at the hearth right now, pouring herself a mug of klah and wearing clothes that are too comfortable to be practical for anything but settling down for the evening. It's when she's done that she's turning toward the chair that she'd assumed would be hers only to find A'rist right where she definitely doesn't want him to be. And she nearly splashes her klah from having to stop so abruptly. It's a good thing that doesn't happen; his shirt is white. But then, the night is still young. Recognition takes just a moment, and then A'rist is giving a bit of a sigh. "You wanted this chair. Didn't you." "Of course I wanted this chair. It's mine." Everything is Jadzia's, apparently. Has he picked up on that yet? Has she even realized that she keeps doing it? Maybe it's just him that makes her act like that. And she stands there like she totally expects him to move along and let her have it for some reason. A'rist looks from Jadzia, to her mug, to the chairs around the nighthearth (including those with people in them). And then, back to the chair between them. "You really can't call anything in Weyr 'yours'. Not in the caverns." Her eyes narrow, but that's the only real indication that she's really annoyed by those words. Jadzia glances at the chair, then starts to move in to sit down in it. There, see? Hers. Because that's what a butt touching it means. "You have a weyr to go play with yourself in. Why don't you go do that." A'rist doesn't even go so far as to answer that. Nor does he move to stop Jadzia's sitting. What he does is to put his hand on the back of the chair once she's sat down, and consider her. And anything of her he can see now, from this vantage point, that he couldn't before, if only as brief inspection. "I have a question for you." Jadzia takes a sip of her klah, settling in and getting comfortable, pulling her legs up to cross one over the other like she's pretending A'rist isn't actually there. Except she glances at him when he speaks. "What?" "You only ever go with guys you don't even know?" There's no wince or hesitation, or even a blush. A'rist is just watching her, dark eyes curious more than anything else, grip on the back of her chair unchanged. "Always just for the sex?" Her expression doesn't really change, but Jadzia studies A'rist for several moments as though she's trying to decide where he's going with the questions. It won't keep her from answer, though. "Not just guys I don't know. But... mostly just for the sex, yes." Not entirely, always, but mostly. "Why?" A'rist's expression doesn't much change; his posture does. He shifts his legs back, supporting more weight on the back of that chair, first just rested on one arm, then on both, forearms folded, parallel to the back against which they rest. "You don't ever want more? Like... It's disconnected, isn't it?" He's looking more at the hearth than Jadzia, now. "Sure," is all Jadzia says at first, though she sounds a little uncertain about it. It's weird going from grr to talking about something kind of personal in the span of a few minutes, after all. Maybe it's the time of night or that he's not being so antagonistic but she continues, "Sometimes I want more. But that only ends up hurting and who needs that?" Yay, cynicism. A'rist takes plenty of time to chew over that response, eyes falling from the hearth, slowly, to Jadzia's head. And face, if at any point she should look up at him again. "Hmm," comes partway through that thought. And then, "I guess at least it would be a different kind of hurt." Jadzia does glance up, but her gaze doesn't linger there when she sees him looking down at her. More sipping from her mug before she's asking, "A different kind of hurt from what? Being alone? I can deal with being alone. Better than the alternative, isn't it?" "That," A'rist allows, though he doesn't sound so certain, and the shrug he gives is a bit lopsided. "Or just..." He pushes himself back up, hands on the back of the chair once more, where they clench, "hurting." A moment later, those same hands are pushing off, as the bronzerider rocks back a step. Jadzia turns her head again when he pushes away from the chair to look back at the bronzerider, still not entirely sure what this is all about. And apparently paranoid enough to expect it to have a reason she doesn't like. "So... what? You don't just want sex? You want more? I'm sure there's some girl out there that's willing to run off with someone like you." A'rist gives a wry sort of smile, and shakes his head. Another movement away from her chair, this one, only a half-step. "I was just wondering. Why you wouldn't. Even though you could." He gives her a little nod, reaches up to adjust the coat on his shoulder just as it's about to, finally, after lots of inching, slide off. "Enjoy that chair." For some reason those words strike Jadzia a little harder than they probably should and her reaction is kind of belated, "What's that supposed to mean?" after a little too long being silent, sitting up in her chair now and twisting to look at him even if he's leaving. A'rist has already started to go, taking the silence as more pretending he doesn't exist, or something. But he stops when she speaks, and looks back. "It means you can have the chair. I'll go. Just that easy." "Fine," says Jadzia at him as she turns back to face the way the chair is actually facing. "Go." She'll keep the chair and sit here brooding while she finishes her klah. Just that easy! |
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