Logs:Little Bugs or Magic
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| RL Date: 29 March, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aishani and N'rov quite responsibly talk after breakfast, but wind up tangled in their straps anyway. |
| Where: Vhaeryth's Stars at Night Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 5, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, Serah/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Lia/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions, Jo/Mentions |
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| The remains of breakfast litter the small table, but N'rov can take care of that before sweeps. Why waste time now, after all? There's the hearth to enjoy, warming the relatively small weyr well enough, while dealing with such mundane tasks as checking and oiling straps. The bronze's rider is sitting on the floor with the straps strewn out over his legs, several glowbaskets lighting his work as well as hers. "How," he asks, "can a dragon with a hide that's oiled as frequently as his is, put such wear into the stitching?" It's good that it's all still there anyway; there's things for Aishani to pick at on her way over with her own set of straps, because - why not, if there's time, if N'rov is. If she can sit down next to him on the floor and rest her head on his shoulder for a moment, press a kiss there before pulling the mess into her own lap. Reasonably, "By moving, I'd expect, but I don't think that's the answer you want. So, I don't know. Magic." She peers at one joint closely, picking at the stitch there. After a moment, "I'm glad things aren't... difficult. With me still coming here." "That is most definitely not the answer I want. Not that I like the idea of little bugs eating the wax on the stitching, either." N'rov reaches out with his bare tones on the heels of that kiss, trying to snag the edge of the mess of straps and draw it back closer to /him/ again. "Same here." He glances up, checking on her expression. "I don't think it will stop being fun to sneak out, but there's a lot to be said for... where it's comfortable." "Not little bugs, nor magic. What options do we have left?" Shani's not so concerned that she's going to waste a ton of time thinking about it, though. She'll leave that to N'rov, who's better at such things. After she's suitable convinced the stitch won't come loose, she glances back his way, with a brief smile. Wryly, "I feel rather as if I'm sneaking out of late. It's better than... well. I was concerned. But Hattie was quite lovely. I'll have to find time to visit with her." But N'rov's distracted, and not just by trying to tug on her straps, either, not that it'll make anything but a mess if his and hers get tangled. "Good. I'd /like/ it if she didn't get too nosy," but he shrugs: what will come, will come, or at least he can be that sanguine about it right now. "Have you seen Serah yet? She must know you're related. Or... does she?" Likewise distracted, finally noticing, "What are you doing?" Aishani pulls back on her straps a little in return, with a faintly mystified look. Though his words have her expression shading towards faintly uncomfortable, dark eyes turning back to her straps. "I wouldn't say she's nosy," she says, in a hedging tone. "It's nice to have someone to... who relates to specific situations." Carefully worded as anything she might say in public. "And no. I haven't. And I don't think she /does/. I... I suppose I feel like a lot has happened to her. Serah. She might need time before another thing." "Stealing, obviously." Even if it's an awful lot like finding another way to play around with her. And N'rov picks up on her wording, though first he nods with a hint of a grimace about needing /time/. "I've been steering clear, myself." And now that he's gotten that off his plate, he says, wryly, "That sounds like more of your public voice. Listen, Shani, I think that it's great that you two can... relate, or whatever it is you do. I like your having that, I don't want you to have to /equivocate/ or anything. Just, if you two are going to do anything like comparing how frequently N'muir and I... take out the laundry, you don't have to tell me. Unless I come off better, of course," and that's a cocky grin meant to reassure her. Dropping hands and straps into her lap suddenly, entirely embarrassed by the flush to her cheeks, "Oh no. /N'rov/." Like he's serious. Shani is somewhere between slightly horrified by the idea and apologetic, and it takes her a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's more just... It's nothing that /personal/, it's not that kind of thing." Her gaze likewise drops into her lap and she twitches the leather between long fingers as she considers. "I was curious what it would be like, if things had been different, if we had to be work to each other. We talked mostly about clutches, children. Though..." She can offer a flicker of a grin, "If it came to that, I'd make sure you did." His grin widens, but also softens a touch, quite nearly at the same time. Now, instead of hunting down her straps, N'rov's toes try to bump into his girl's instead. "I'm just thinking about eventualities. One day it's clutches, the next it's... something maybe men shouldn't know about. But it's a good thing that you're not work to each other, it sounds like." On that note, "I've been wondering if it would be hard for you to be junior to anyone, after this, if things shook out that way. But in the meantime..." He checks to see if she's still blushing, though his words come out more teasing than cautious. "Is there anything I should know?" "I meant, you and me. If we'd ended up work to one another instead of... a respite from it, maybe. Someone to provide perspective. I also wanted her to know... Her and N'muir both - that I didn't want to /take/ you from here even though I /do/. Because I'm selfish." Shani's toes flex against his, and she leans against his shoulder rather than look up at him right away, dark curls still tousled from sleep. As for being junior, her own tone is doubtful, uncertain. "I don't know. It would certainly be simpler to step back to experience, but... I suppose it's something I'll have to deal with as it comes." His question might bring a longer pause than he'd like, and she turns her face into his shoulder to admit, with some reluctance, "I told her Iesaryth was wondering about our children, if we had any. So... if that comes up..." N'rov will know why, at least. "Good." And of course N'rov has to put his arm around her, now, to make her lean more comfortable, and then with his other hand lift up locks of her hair and let them fall, less to actually make her look at him and more to get to look at her. And because he just likes it. "Do you want some, now that you have your name back? Or were you just playing along?" There's no judgment with that last: she does what she has to do. Tilting her chin up enough to look at him, some of the color about her fading, Shani smiles for him, for the fingers brushing back curls. And she has to think about it for a time before, "I wasn't playing along. I just tell Iesaryth there's so much time, when she thinks about those things. She thinks about so many things." A pause. "I never did, before. I didn't want to risk leaving someone behind like I'd been left. But I don't know now." She lifts a hand to brush fingertips along his jawline, taps his chin lightly. "I never asked you." Not that she is now, if he doesn't want to answer. "There's a lot of time," N'rov's quick to agree. "There better be a lot of time." He pats, or maybe it's /pets/, her hair before stopping with the playing: serious business here. "I mostly didn't, before. Now? I don't know. Back home... it's not like K'varl, back before Zihanth got him. You know how my father was trying to pin me in place, back before Vhaeryth got /me/." He's smiling a little, right before he tips his head to drop a light kiss into her hair. "Just tell me it wouldn't mean we'd have to be respectable and never run off and you could never wear that one short skirt." Or the other one, or the other one. Seeming a little relieved herself for that, Shani nods. "There is. There will be." Apparently, she's in no rush either, and one would really hope not; she's /twenty/. With faint smirk, amused, "Two 'I don't know's don't seem like definitive statement one way or the other, so better to avoid the issue until it starts becoming more apparent." And how nice that they can. Though she softens into a grin for the kiss, murmuring, "I don't think there's all that much that could make either of us respectable. Though the weavers say no short skirts after thirty-five, so take that up with them." "Thirty-five's ancient anyway," N'rov says, quite as though it were the next Pass instead of only a little over ten Turns away. "While I'm all right with avoiding issue, as it were, it depends on exactly what kind of avoiding you have in mind," and he gives Shani a sly look. "For instance, does that mean we shouldn't," but then he clears his throat. "Never mind, I shouldn't give you ideas, though I can't imagine your dealing with everything and throwing up, too. Any news from your dealings?" "It does seem like forever from now." Fifteen turns for her, /forever/. And though Shani might smirk at that sly look and unfinished question, she has a bump for his shoulder and a brush of feet as she straightens away, intent on her straps again. "Don't give me ideas. I have to go home and you're dressed." And if she's faintly sulky about that, she so rarely is otherwise. "Not everyone throws up, but with my luck... And nothing from Jo, yet. I imagine these things take a bit of time. Though..." A pause. "Issues with the Weyrleadership aren't really dying down. I don't think my timing was the best." A little grimace. If she'd aimed to get N'rov looking not so privately smug for her sulkiness, well, she's succeeded. And if she didn't intend for it to last long, she succeeded there too. "What's going on now?" the bronzerider asks, and even goes to pull /his/ straps back into service again. See, he's behaving. There's a moment where Aishani casts N'rov a look for that self-satisfaction - somewhere between wanting to hit him and wanting to /grab/ him - but she manages to control herself either way in the service of discussion. But she's smiling too much for the subject as she looks down at her work, eyes bright. She doesn't want to behave. "I think I mentioned the lot of them sitting at the table in the living cavern? Taikrin had it out with them, assigned some really base duties, left it to their wingleader to enforce. Which isn't precisely happening. He spoke to me about it, Z'ian. Seemed to think replacing her might be an idea, but I can't imagine how any of that would go well." All right, that look brings some of that self-satisfaction /right/ /back/. But, "Let me guess," N'rov guesses, "he proposed himself instead?" Somewhere in the mess of straps, there's a needle. It's probably strung on some thread. Maybe it will turn up someday, but for now, N'rov's not looking for it. "Stop that," Shani warns. Stop /looking/ like that, she means, but it's not much of one when she pulls on his straps immediately after to draw him in for a kiss, probably more heated than intended. After, letting the leather slide loose, but only pulling back bare inches, "Not in so many words. It doesn't make me as paranoid as I should be maybe, but Jo trusts him, and there's a long story." Much like N'rov's not interested in the needle, she's not interested in long stories. Like that's going to do anything other than make things /worse/. N'rov moves with her when she pulls back, saying, "And you trust Jo," like he actually still cares. Of course, then he adds, "I don't have sweeps for /hours/ yet." If she gets hungry, there's always finishing off breakfast! |
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