Logs:Just Cuz
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| RL Date: 24 December, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo and Tela catch up. Tela also gives her a gift. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 8, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions, G'laer/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, Oisa/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Jo, being Jo. Expect language. |
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| At this time of night, the nighthearth isn't so busy or crowded. There's still a few couples about, murmuring their conversations to each other so they can't be heard - and all the while Jo sits right in the middle of it all, nursing a drink in her black leathers and busying herself with attaching something to her firelizard's leg. With a blank sheet of hide before her along with something to write with, it's fair to say that it's likely a note that's being attached. The girl in her not-black not-leathers-- a floaty peachy-pink sundress, to be exact, its halter cut showing off the smooth muscle of her shoulders-- may have spotted the Jo she's after, but she waits in the periphery, hands folded about the small bag she carries. She waits, but she isn't shy about watching, for all that she's only apt to approach her once the firelizard's disappeared or... or, well, it's taking too long for Telavi. Jo is definitely preoccupied, especially since Mime is being particularly difficult in letting her attach the note. "Move that leg one more time..." she warns in a low voice, bent over as deft fingers try to outwit the flit as he moves about. Once it does get attached she leans back with a satisfied look on her face before waving him off. "Ya know where," is all she says to him before he launches into the air and blinks Between in seconds. In his place, she catches the peachy-pink. She recognizes Telavi quickly enough, but it's the dress she's dubiously eyeing. Bright eyes catch her at it, too. "What, don't you like it?" Telavi even twirls before walking over and leaning her forearms on the corner of the table, peeking at Jo and her sadly-blank hide. "It's summer, bluerider." "Don' remind me," comes from Jo on it being summer. Summer is definitely not her season. Nodding towards the dress, "I'm more lookin' at it for why ya wearin' it so late at night? About to give someone a good night, huh?" In typical Jo fashion. Still, she meets Telavi's gaze before adding, "How's it been, Tela?" It's been awhile, right? "How do you know I haven't?" Tela inquires insouciantly. "A good evening, let's say," though if she had, she did a splendid job of not mussing her long hair with its wreath of pinned-up curls. She smiles back into those brown eyes, too. "It's been all right. Especially the older crop of weyrlings, they're... simpler somehow. And you? How are you," this with a nod to that remaining blank sheet. With a slight twitch of brows, "Anyone I know?" is really the question Jo answers that first with. She reaches for the flask on her table, giving the greenrider a good once-over as she leans back and takes a drink. Something said gets her attention. "Simpler how?" she has to ask about the current crop of weyrlings, the interest laid bare. "I'm good. Well, as good as I can be, usually. Maybe. Oh this?" she gestures with the flask at the blank hide before shrugging and saying, "Just sending out letters. Getting a breather before turnin' in. Ya know me. How's K'zin?" It's either a deflect from what she was really writing, or, she was nosy and curious enough to ask about the bronzerider. "I like to think you know everyone, Jo," says Telavi with a teasing flutter of her lashes, but as the bluerider continues, tonight she doesn't play particular attention to the woman's flask. "Mmm, more like we were, I suppose. The newer class, some are so serious and some are flighty all over the place, and there's this one who keeps smearing blood all over... the dragon does! Not his rider, that's one small mercy." Letters. Maybe. Her lips part as though to speak, but then Jo distracts Tela and she puffs out a breath. More slowly, if barely so, "I wouldn't know." "The key's to lead others to believe ya do," Jo comments to the first - the words could almost be said sagely if not for the flask she holds in hand. Turning to the topic of weyrlings, "I've met G'laer." It's given matter-of-factly after the explanation. "Serious. Has an obsession with tight pants." Yes, she did just say that. "I think he'll be wearin' a pair in due time," she goes on to say lightly. "So yer sayin' they're not troublemakers. I think our Weyrleaders would be pleased with that. Ya dunno." K'zin. That last is on K'zin. She studies the greenrider closely in the pause before asking, "So he's pushed ya aside, too. Curious." She thinks it is, anyway. Too. Studied, Telavi's tipped her head downward slightly, as though studying her own nails in turn. She leaves a new, longer pause before getting back to the others. "The... tight pants, that's a surprise," and her tone doesn't carry anticipation, though it might still be colored by before. "Troublemakers," on her repetition gets an equivocal back-and-forth tilt of one held-up hand. Quiet laughter, "Either that, or, he's just obsessed with tight pants on someone," muses Jo on the weyrling. "He reminds me a bit of Alida, but, there's something different about him. So, yer gonna tell me if ya like getting' to teach those little bastards, huh? Didn' expect to see ya weyrlingmasterin', but then, they've got I'zech doin' it still so I suppose there's somethin' to be said on it all." Nodding towards the entrance then, "How's Solith?" "You'd be the most likely candidate, I'd think," is Telavi's perhaps-questionable compliment, adding a slight shake of her head for Alida on purpose, though the slight stiffening of her back at that I'zech-comparison may be less so. "I've gotten to like it a good deal of the time, and Faranth knows it was a distraction, you know? But telling them what to do when they don't want to be told... let's just say Solith is well, but she's not exactly the most awe-inspiring backup," said as though Jo probably knows that too. There's amusement there, along with a slight shake of her head on Telavi's first. "Like a moth to a flame," is all Jo says on that. She notes the slight stiffening when she names her clutchmate, a small brow furrow at it before she holds the flask out and offers her drink. "He's still behavin', ain' he?" she hazards a guess. "And, good, darlin'. A girl always needs a niche these days. Distraction is a good thing." For all that Telavi hadn't dwelled on the flask before, now she doesn't hesitate to accept it. She is slow to sip, postponing it until after a hasty, "Distraction from Boreal," by way of clarification. Not only that, it's after she eventuall,y continues. "It's funny because a girl could start to think well of him, and then have it seem like he's on-purpose turning it on its head... and by that I don't mean just a girl. What do you think?" Now she gets to sip, now she gets to relish its fire. Once the flask leaves her hand, "Whaddya need distraction from Boreal on?" Jo is curious to ask, watching Telavi drink. She even waits for further answers, and when they come, there's a slight smirk from her. Subject matter and all. Regarding her for a moment longer, "What I think?" she echoes with a raise of her chin. "I think ya shouldn' think well of him. He's not a man that should be thought well of. He's never goin' to be, and I think he likes it that way." Head tilting a bit then, looking her in the face, "Ya fucked him?" she flat out asks. She gives no warning for the question either. "Well, that was before, when Z'ian-- you know. And Oisa, she's," someone Telavi can turn her nose up at, apparently, even if that woman is the very rare fowl that's a a greenrider and a wingleader, even Acting. At least she's remembered to keep her voice down at the last minute, and it stays there. "Really? That's a shame and--" Telavi couldn't hide the way she pales and then flushes all over again, even if she wanted to. Not from Jo. "No," she says truthfully, and then with a tilt of her head rallies to ask, "Have you?" "Ya don' like Oisa." Observation from Jo. There's even a solemn nod about Z'ian, the convict rider momentarily going quiet as she looks over her blank sheet of hide. It's only a moment though. Once Telavi has her gaze, composure reigns. She gives her a lopsided grin for the flush before she says, "A shame. Why so? Ya want him to be a good man? A decent man? Decent enough to fuck him?" That last question gets a look from her - this is Jo we're talking about here - before, "But ya want to. Ya should. Get it outta yer system. He's a good ride." So candid. She could be talking about the weather. Despite the words, perhaps one could detect that there is a sort of fondness for the erstwhile clutchmate. "He's no K'zin." A warning, maybe? "I wouldn't keep that secret from you," Telavi says, a moment of blitheness amid all the rest. Good gets a shrug, a bit of a moue; "I wasn't looking for good," another of those distractions maybe, "but I'd have settled for 'not a turn-off.'" She sips again, more lingeringly this time with blue-today eyes on the bluerider. When she resurfaces, "How do you mean?" Short laughter coming from Jo at the first, and her hands spread from her as she answers on the next. "I would've gone with 'cock-tease' than a turn-off, personally. Maybe it's just me. Other than that, darlin'," and her hands drop back to the table, "he is what he is. Raw'n fucked up. I think most my weyrlin' class was like that. Maybe there's some truth to the rumors of our clutch bein' so messed up. Cuz we're so messed up." Not that it looks to be bothering her. On the last, watching her, the question seems expected since there's a quick shrug in answer. "He don' linger, darlin'. No flowers or cuddles. Ya get me?" Even if she doesn't, she's holding out her hand for her flask to drink. Something about that gives Telavi a momentarily mischievous look; then, "Maybe," but Jo doesn't appear to be bothering the greenrider any either. "I get you," and of course she gives the flask back, obedient girl that she-- usually-- is. "It's half as though when he is kind, he doesn't want to risk its getting out. But you said he pushed you away?" Not I'zech, this last. Taking up the flask with a wry nod of thanks, "Can' have every tart thinkin' yer might have potential," Jo is breezy in answering back on kindness. "Dilutes the appeal. Talkin' from experience." Her wonderful ego. The last does give her a dubious look before she drops, "Who, a man? Hardly happens. Ya mean K'zin? Me'n him? Nah," and she shakes her head before taking a drink from her flask. "Never went there. I'd eat'im alive. I'zech, though...man likes to be in control of shit. Like I said. Cocktease. Seems to be resonatin' well with the weyrlin's, though. He can' be a complete asshole, if so." Potential gets an unabashedly dismissive eyeroll from the greenrider. "I'm sure it does," she says. Only as Jo continues, there's a moment when Tela's lips part as though she might correct the bluerider, but she waits until afterward. Playfully, "You would. But I meant whatever that was about pushing away 'too.'" Though maybe she's moving verbally on, adding easily, "No, not a complete asshole... Hold out your hand, one hand, and shut your eyes, and I will give you a surprise." "I would what?" Jo returns, dropping her chin to fit a look unto Telavi. She'll linger there for a few moments before moving on, frowning a bit when she's being asked to hold her hand out. She hesitates for a moment, of course, the other hand quite occupied with holding the flask. Once her hand is given over, "Shut my eyes, too? Are ya about to perform some Bitran magic trick in that dress of yers?" she openly teases now, her eyes closing and peeking at her just once. "Eat practically anyone alive," the younger rider puts into Jo's pause, so blithely as to suggest no one could possibly argue with that. She does look upon the bluerider's self-arranging with approval, at least until-- "Cheating!" Tela chides, laughter in her voice. "I suppose it could be a trick. Certainly it's trick-y, but it's the sort of trick that has more to do with time and a great deal of attention to detail," the better to cover the very faint rustling of fabric. If Jo has continued to oblige her, finally there's the smooth feel of cloth about the bluerider's wrist like a bracelet, and Telavi saying, "Now you can look," even as she gives the lark's head knot a tug. It turns out to be a long, fluttering thing of a deep, muted bronze, the fine material silken but with enough body that it won't be easily crushed, with appliques that leave impressions of deep, shimmering blues and a hint of green to weight the ends just enough. No, Jo couldn't argue with the first. It's there in the fact that she merely grins to it in return. Still, she does eventually complies by closing her eyes and holding out her hand, and when she feels something being wrapped around her wrist, she looks down at what's given. In silence, she does indeed now set her flask down in favor of examining the scarf closer, holding her arm up and unloosening it out before shooting a glance over at the greenrider. "Didn' realize that I have a turnday today," she says in a sort of tease, but the bluerider is regarding Telavi steadily now, as if expecting an explanation for the gift. After that one tug, Telavi's let go, letting the scarf's slanted ends trail through her fingers as she sits back. Those ends prove to be embroidered under that examination, enough that it's more complicated than it might appear at first glance, though still subtle. Those fingers are folded in her lap, all proper and almost even prim, by the time Tela informs the bluerider, "It's 'Happy Jo Day.' Though if you want to tell me your Turnday, you can..." and in the meantime, she'll just show a hint of dimple-- and keep tabs on Jo's reaction. Continuing to study the scarf, and finding little pockets on them that could conceal something small, "Why do ya wanna know my turnday?" Jo turns that into a question, her dark, studying gaze going from the scarf to Telavi. "I didn' know I had a Jo Day. There must be another reason." For her, she seems to suspect everything. "Because you mentioned it," Telavi says patiently, one hand reaching behind her own neck not to rub it, surely, but to sweep the part of her hair that she's kept loose over one shoulder. And for the implied question, "Because I wanted to, Jo." She straightens then, not so much pushing off the table as lifting free of it, stepping back dancer-light. "But if you don't like it, why, you can sell it." Jo remains silently until Telavi's done speaking, watching her with that guarded gaze of hers until she hears the end. She looks down at the scarf once more, and then after a few more moments, she lifts it wrap about her neck before meeting her gaze once more and giving her a nod. "Thanks," she states, nodding again. "I guess I....well, not many give me somethin', for nothin'. Just for the just cuz. I'm not sellin' it. Just, ya know ya don' have to." As if Telavi and her had discussed the finer points of gifting Jo long before. Either that or the bluerider is actually at a loss for words, for once. When Jo puts on her gift, that's when Telavi settles some, no longer quite so much as though she's about to take flight; she tucks her hands behind her, invisible. It's when Jo explains, though, that she replies more gently, "I know." Her blue-today eyes drift over the bluerider, not just where the scarf lingers but from head to where Jo's knees must be beyond the table, then back to the other woman's face. "I'm glad you want to keep it, too." And now that she's said that, her voice still soft, "I shouldn't keep you from your writing. Good night, Jo." Telavi remains standing, and Jo remains sitting. There's the glimmer of a smile from the bluerider as she lets the silence on her end lengthen before breaking it with, "And here I've got nothin' to offer ya in return. That's decent, anyway." Go for the humor, she shifts away from any potential awkwardness, letting her gaze settle over the greenrider before she meets her gaze and returns that farewell. "Nah, I'm goin' in soon, myself. Take it easy, Tela," she gives back, reaching for her flask once more. "Don' be a stranger." "Now, now, we established I wasn't holding out for decent," Telavi claims lightly, quite as though she's picked up on her cue and going for humor too. She doesn't move towards the bluerider, though, not a step and not a syllable. Instead, "I'll see what I can do. You do the same," but that last, it's said in parting, with a smile. With that she turns, walking away unhurriedly, the hem of her skirt floating light as can be above the backs of her knees. It's when she's in the tunnels, out of sight, that she'll cross her arms and rub her biceps as though cold-- right before exiting into the Bowl and the warm night. |
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