Logs:Similarly Awkward
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| RL Date: 27 December, 2015 |
| Who: J'sae, P'tras, Riennath, Zajeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: J'sae and P'tras get together to collaborate on a crafting project and end up talking, a lot, instead. |
| Where: Intricate Carvings Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 9, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: C'ris/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Adult topics. Back-dated. |
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>---< Zajeth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr(#1119R) >----------------------------< Long and narrow, this ledge presumably has a lot of space for dragons to perch, but not necessarily for more than one to lounge. The rock is smooth, well-worn and marked with centuries' worth of talons, forming an uneven pattern all along the edge. A slight overhang at the back of the ledge marks the entrance to the weyr proper; the bulge of stone has been carved into an intricate lintel above the entryway, abstract whorls and slender lines curling like vines captured in stone. Past the lintel, the dragon's area opens up with a deep wallow to one side and a wall of hooks and niches on the other, designed for storing, jackets and straps. >---< Intricate Carvings Weyr, High Reaches Weyr(#1729R) >-------------------< Someone who lived here seems to have been quite the hand at stone-carving because the same decorations that mark the entrance continue, becoming more elaborate further in. Pattern upon pattern reveals thte odd treasure--a flower, a shipfish, a firelizard, and so on, past the curve that narrows to the entrance of the rider's quarters. The ceiling is oddly low, though still raised high enough for most people to walk inside comfortably. And the carvings continue here, too, glowlight casting interesting shadows in the dips and whorls. The weyr's a little on the small side, cozy rather than spacious, with a stone shelf for a bed and a table, also stone, jutting from the wall a little ways down from it. The size might be balanced be the presence of that rarity in weyrs: a small bathing chamber with a pool just big enough for two. Work and adjustments has eaten a lot of Jase's time, fully immersing himself in what it is to be Tundra, a woodcrafter and a member of High Reaches Weyr. It suits him well, seeming happiest at work, but it means that he hasn't had a chance to get ahold of Pip for the planned collaboration as yet. Zajeth's reach for Riennath this evening starts as a sizzle of blue flame in the darkness, a sizzle that makes the mindspace glitter brighter than the darkest night's star-filled canopy. It's sizzle and sass all the way for this blue whose mental presence is suddenly there and larger than life. « Well, beautiful, » might be tongue in cheek but at least he sounds sincere, « Jase has time tonight and wants to put Pip's talents to good use. » There's the sense of a cheshire grin. « Bring leather, wear leather, something like that, » as if he can't remember. « Jase is waiting, » and there's a sense of eagerness that skips along those lines of blue flame, tickling just enough to raise mental goose flesh. The visuals might be impressive, but Riennath sounds anything but impressed when her deep voice informs the blue that, « We'll be on our way shortly. » It takes P'tras a little while to get everything together and, in the meanwhile, the green's dented armor reflects the blue flame as she waits with an odd anticipation. When he's ready, Riennath carries her rider to J'sae's weyr. « He could use assistance with the leather, » she says while P'tras is still removing one of two bags from her straps. Those flames reach experimentally, without heat or pain, just to see if brushing across her dented armor will spark and flare the jumping lines of electric blue. The inky form of the blue perched precariously at one edge of the long and narrow ledge as if poised to fall at any moment. Hopefully, he'd be able to get enough clearance from the wall that such a fall wouldn't mean death. But Zajeth, as far as Zajeth is concerned, is unending, immortal, forever so why not live a little? (To Riennath from Zajeth) J'sae is quick to appear on the heels of the request which must have been communicated. "Hey!" is warm and friendly and his approach holds no reservations about jumping right in, moving to take one of the bags and heft it. His smile is bright and that can only mean he genuinely means, "Thanks for coming. Sorry it was short notice. I wasn't sure I'd actually be able to be here tonight so I didn't want to ask and then cancel if-- anyway, thank you." The bluerider seems to realize he's in danger of starting the night talking too much and curtails his babble. "Come in," is eager as he moves to lead the way. Sparks dance over the imperfect metal, blue and silver whirling along Riennath's armor before it's abruptly dull and distanced. When she's free of her burdens, both physical and mental, the green dismisses herself from Zajeth's ledge to return to her own. But that doesn't mean she's not keeping an eye on him. (To Zajeth from Riennath) "It's not a problem. I wasn't doing anything." Nothing important enough not to come, anyway. P'tras hefts the other bag over his shoulder and Riennath takes her leave while her rider follows the bluerider inside. "I can't remember. Is this a commission or is it something for you?" There's nothing to suggest one is the right answer over the other, just curiosity. Good. Zajeth is worth watching. What's more, he likes the attention. He doesn't pretend otherwise. He is, however, a slippery presence. Can she track him as his glitters extinguish and that feline smile cracks somewhere behind her in a burst of showy blue flame? Did she think just by excusing herself from his ledge she'd be rid of him? (To Riennath from Zajeth) J'sae is significantly more self-effacing, grinning back over his shoulder at Pip, "Depends on how good it turns out. I used to keep all my first attempts for me, but then I figured that my place is sort of my only place to show what I can do, so now I keep what turns out well enough to be inspiring. Could be for you even, if you like the look of it." Fair's fair, they'll have to some agreement for Pip's leather and Jase's wood in terms of costs and value. There's much here that's still crated, but as they move around the wallow toward the human end of things there's a work table that's been set up with precision, built on wheels for ease of movement. It's here that Jase stops to deposit the bag. "I was thinking we might start with an end table to get the hang of things." The more important question is if Riennath can be bothered to track him. She knows he's there and that might be all that matters to her. Besides, if she's not very interesting, he's more likely to lose interest in being... whatever he's being. In theory. She still asks, however, « Are you quite finished yet? » (To Zajeth from Riennath) "Right. That makes sense." P'tras sets down the second bag near the first and wipes his hands unnecessarily on his pants. The greenrider admires the workspace for what it is, touching the table absently while his eyes drift over the details and then turn back to J'sae. "End table sounds good. Do you have any designs for what you're thinking with the leather?" This is mainly the bluerider's project in his mind, after all. He's just here to add some extra icing, so to speak. Au contraire, good lady, the mind whispers without words, the glitters winking back in a show of Zajeth's amusement. He always finds himself entertaining enough for two. She can be as boring as she likes, or she can stop being such an obvious stick in the mud and join in his gregarious gaiety. « Not nearly, » comes with a sparkle of a toothy smile (but only the teeth, of course). (To Riennath from Zajeth) "I put together a couple of easy frames that we could play with. The carvings in this place sort of inspired me to want to do it in different mediums, you know?" Jase gestures around to the stone carvings. "So some kind of carved wood frames by a leather covered frame or a stamped or embossed leather carving framed by an embellished wooden frame?" He makes the suggestions in a way that suggests 'first thoughts' and looks at Pip with lifted brows, inviting input. Only suddenly he looks chagrined. "Clod," he accuses himself quietly. "Do you want something to drink? Or eat? I brought some things up in case--" he makes gesture to the human part of the weyr. "Sorry, I get carried away a lot, with my work. Zajeth claims he keeps me human instead of all Woodcrafter. Reminds me the manners I used to know until my head turned to wood." Maybe someday Jase will be a real boy!! Patience is one of Riennath's virtues. Truly. But there's something defensive about the way she responds to Zajeth's presence. « What are you attempting to do? » she tries instead, her own presence pushing against his, keeping him at a certain distance. (To Zajeth from Riennath) P'tras nods his head as he looks up and around at the carvings. "They're nice. I etch out designs in leather pretty often." He's probably never exactly considered it carving, even if it is. On a somewhat smaller scale. The rest makes the greenrider look at J'sae and then further into the weyr, like he might not have even noticed if Jase hadn't actually offered anything like that. "Oh. Yeah. I could use a drink." Maybe something to eat, too, but that might always be at least partially the case. He casts another glance toward the work, offering, "Unless you're too excited to get started with all this." « I'm not sure yet, » is at least an honest response if a maddening one. There's something playful to the lilt of his smooth voice. This is all certainly some sort of game to the blue, what remains to be seen is if the green is another player or a pawn for him to toy with. To his credit, Zajeth hopes she's a player, at least. Pawns are so fleetingly entertaining. « Do you rrreally want me gone so soon, pretty lady? » (To Riennath from Zajeth) "I am excited, but it's not just about the work," Jase offers with a warm smile, gesturing the greenrider toward the human weyr. For all that Jase can pass through the doorway, he ducks perhaps because it's a bit of a near thing. On the stone table jutting out from the wall is a sizable offering of food, probably in deference to the collective appetites of the two young men and a bottle of classy looking wine with a pair of glasses. The pair of chairs on either side of the table are a sight, with carved backings depicting orchards and workers plucking ripe fruit beneath the boughs of the trees. "I got out a red, but I have white if you'd rather? Unless you don't like wine at all," which seems to be a worrying thought to J'sae: has he not thought of absolutely everything? Her defensiveness flares into something hotter, perhaps the fires her armor was forged in. « Don't call me that, » her mindvoice clangs sharply. « I've no time nor want of empty flatteries. » Pretty isn't often something Riennath is accused of being. (To Zajeth from Riennath) "It's not?" P'tras follows J'sae inside, letting his green eyes wander over the carvings in the stone until his attention is drawn to the chairs rather than the food. "Wow," is his initial reaction. "Those are amazing. Did you--" The question is cut off as he approaches one of the chair, answering, "Red's perfect. I'm not very picky when it comes to alcohol. Always appreciate wines that don't make my tongue try to crawl down my throat." His hands move over the highest carvings in the wood of the chair, tracing the topography. To Riennath, Zajeth is intrigued. The clanging, the heat, the ferocity of reaction. All of that makes him curious, makes him interested in her. « What makes you think it was empty flattery, Riennath? » It's actually quite a gently asked question. It's probably means something that J'sae still blushes in the face of compliments of his work. "Yeah," he reaches up to push a hand through his coiffed hair. "I started working on them once we got our weyr in weyrlinghood. Was never interested in doing more than what was needed to learn to be a good rider for Zajeth, so spent my free time on what I love." Carving. The love is there in the imagery. "Zajeth suggested I depict home so I could have a piece of it with me." He gestures to the citrus trees and the preserved worker in action. He watches Pip with the chair, perhaps appreciating it anew through Pip's investigation. Then he moves to open the bottle and pour into the two glasses. "This one shouldn't make your tongue crawl. Unless it's mislabeled." He allows. A good Tillek red. He might be intrigued, but Riennath is, at best, incredulous. « It's something you say to make a green feel as though she's appealing so that she's more open to... » She's evidently not sure what exactly Zajeth is trying to gain from his flattery. « So she's more open to whatever you're trying to do. But I'm neither pretty, nor a lady. » So it won't work on her. (To Zajeth from Riennath) "It's amazing." P'tras is not a master of many words, but he can use the ones he know with a lot of enthusiasm. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe I don't love working with leather as much as you love working with wood." The smile he graces the bluerider with is more open, like he's just now realizing Jase is perhaps more like him than he isn't, and that's worth something to Pip. It's not until there's a glass for him to take that he backs away from the chair to study it while he takes an experimental sip of his wine. "No, this is good." It's that gap that Zajeth focuses on. Just what does she think he hopes to gain? What could he possibly have to gain? It doesn't make sense that he would cavalierly lie. She'll see that, too, if she just takes a moment. « No? What are you then? » He doesn't believe her, not really, but he's willing to entertain her ideas of herself as possibly more true than what little he's gleaned of her by flying in her wing for the past few sevens. (To Riennath from Zajeth) That makes Jase look a little more embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I mean--" What does he mean? He manages not to overfill the remaining wine glass while he figures it out. "The truth is I was at my first posting as a journeyman when Zajeth found me. I'm-- never not glad he did, but I might've been happy, if not as happy if he hadn't, just continuing on as a crafter. He said we had important things to do when he found me, that I shouldn't dawdle," the nostalgic memory holds love and adoration for the inky blue with his unusual rainbow undertones. "Anyway." Talking too much, he must think. "What about you? Finding Riennath. What was that like for you?" He seems genuinely to want to know. This isn't the first time she's been subjected to these questions, and she seems quite sure it won't be the last. Or maybe it's tedious even despite her limited memory. « I'm a dragon, the same as you. The only difference between us is that you chase when I rise rather than the other way around. » Perhaps not the only difference, though, since she's all too aware of his presence. (To Zajeth from Riennath) P'tras sits, carefully, in the chair he'd been so impressed by, and splits his attention between the other young man and the food he's made available. "Oh, she was kind of... abrupt. In a good way, though. I was just suddenly hers. I knew that she'd protect me from everything I was afraid of. And she has, ever since. I don't think I would've been happy without her. She's perfect." There's not a lot of detail on how he went from being a crafter to being a dragonrider who crafts, but food and wine are distracting like that. « The only difference? » Zajeth is disbelieving. « What does it matter if you are chased or I do the chasing? That matters only in the moment. No matter how nice that moment might be, it is only one moment in a sea of so many moments, so many possibilities and doesn't overshadow the rest, » he professes this all earnestly, though still with his personal pizazz of blue flame and glitter in the background. « Being dragons doesn't limit us to the whole world of possibilities of what we might be or might become just because we are dragons. It's like saying a diamond could as easily just be a rock. A hot spring just a lake. I say you are a lady and that you are pretty. » So there. Zajeth believes it. Her loss if she doesn't. (To Riennath from Zajeth) "What were you afraid--" is out of Jase's mouth before he has any idea how rude or personal it might be, his mind only catching up on the last word, now lamely said to complete, "of?" It's followed by an immediate, "Sorry, you don't have to tell me. I mean, we barely know each other and--" he must feel awkward because the drink he takes is sizeable as the thumps down on the other seat, perhaps quite sure of his workmanship. Frustration colors the press of Riennath's presence on the blue. « It does not matter. That is the point. I'm a green and I look the way that I look. » She certainly has no desire for other dragons to find her visually (or socially?) appealing, so that will just have to be on Zajeth. (To Zajeth from Riennath) "It's okay." P'tras shakes his head at the apology, looking down at his wine and only glancing up briefly at J'sae. "A lot of things scared me before Riennath. I wanted the dragonrider to bring me here because there was a guy, though. A guy and his friends. They weren't... nice. I guess I was more afraid of them than I loved Tanner. And then I was scared that I'd have to go back and face them again, but Riennath saved me from that." He's chewing on his lip when he looks at Jase again. "I know it was weak. I've never been able to be strong about my feelings." Fear, attraction, liking someone; he's pretty bad at all of them. The press doesn't seem to bother Zajeth. Maybe he even likes her focused effort, on little ol' him. « If it doesn't matter, why are you complaining so ardently? » The blue sounds almost lazy in asking the question, his manner like a feline rolling on his back to bat just closely enough to make brief prickly contacts (in his case, more electric than mundane) that wander that line of adorable and obnoxious. He probably doesn't expect Riennath to find him the former, but a guy can always get lucky. (To Riennath from Zajeth) There's no judgment in Jase's face for Pip's fears. "Assholes," is what he does say after a moment of distinctly unhappy silence. "Zajeth wants to know if the four of us ought to take a jump over to tanner and find out how well they hold up against their fears these days." The way he say it, the offer might only be half unreal. "They hurt you?" It's asked quietly, concern coloring the woodcrafter's voice. "I'm glad she saved you, Pip. Glad you got out of there." That's real too. The green doesn't answer him this time. Not vocally, anyway. Shielded by her worn armor and thick skin, Riennath is resistant to his persistence. Perhaps, too, she's distracted by her rider. (To Zajeth from Riennath) The curse earns a small smile. It's genuine at first, but it never quite goes away when he has to shake his head. "I think it's best to leave them where they are. I don't even know if they're journeying yet." He probably knows. "I don't want to see them." The rest makes him glance back out to where there's work waiting for them and he shakes his head again, still struggling with his small smile. "It's not important. It was all turns ago now. None of it matters." He takes a longer gulp of his wine as his eyes drift from the way to the wallow to other parts of the weyr. Anywhere that isn't looking directly at J'sae, really. "This is smaller than mine. But I think I'd trade the size. I wonder if I can find someone to do something like this to my hearth, at least." To Riennath, Zajeth lingers (of course he does) sparkles not muted but made brighter by his anger, flames hotter. It's not Riennath he's angry with or for. It might be Zajeth's strength of reaction that prompts Jase to stand and move to place a hand on Pip's shoulder. "You're safe here." Here, the Weyr probably. "If those assholes or any other ones come within a dragonlength of you, you have Riennath get us." Not that it seems likely that Pip's teenage nightmares should show up here. Still, awkward as this expression of got-your-back-ness might be, it's sincere. The hand moves away when it's done. "Yeah, the carvings make it worth it," he says of the room. "And the bath." It's not an afterthought. Private baths never are. "I can't do stone, but I could do up something wood for you to mount above it, if you want." Anger for the indecencies her rider has dealt with go much further for Riennath than any sort of flattery Zajeth could impose on her. These flames she accepts without hesitation. (To Zajeth from Riennath) P'tras doesn't exactly move away from the touch, but there's a slight tension under J'sae's hand. "Thanks. I don't think that'll happen, though. They probably don't even remember I exist since I've been gone." And that's mostly okay with him. It just might be better if he could return the favor. "A bath?" That's interest as he turns to look for where it might be. "One thing I wish my weyr had. There are more of them around than I figured they might be if blueriders and weyrlings are getting them." As for his hearth, "I'll have to see what I can set aside for something like that." "Yeah," Jase sticks with the topic change as he moves to pick up his glass again. "Through there," he gestures to a curtain that blends well with the rock of the wall. It seems like this bluerider enjoys his puzzles, his secrets and his mysteries. "Have a look, if you want," is invited. "It's not very big, but--" it's a private bath, so who cares? "How about we trade for it? Your help and what leather you can spare for my projects for my wood and time carving? Or I can make it a gift. I'm not going to take your marks." Judging by the niceness of the wine, Jase doesn't need them. "Any particular thing you'd enjoy having carved on it?" The greenrider rises, setting his glass down on the stone table so he can go explore the bath. It's just a peek around the curtain, really, seeing what he can without actually going behind it. "I guess you can be another person I think about while I'm alone in the public baths." That probably sounds worse than P'tras means it. "No gifts," is added quickly. "Maybe a trade. But it's not that important. My weyr will be more or less the same either way. I bet you stay pretty busy." It must sound worse than P'tras meant it because there's choking and then coughing from poor Jase who'd just taken a sip of his wine. Really, they're just lucky it wasn't a big enough sip to come out his nose. The coughing turns him as much red-faced as what might be embarrassment. P'tras looks at J'sae uncertainly. Is he okay? What happened? The moment he realizes it is pretty obvious, though, because the curly-haired young man turns a bright shade of pink and looks very much like he'd like to disappear behind the curtain he was just turning away from. "I didn't mean-- Shit, I'm sorry." Can he crawl under that stone table and die now? Jase is already waving his hands even as he recovers his breath to allay Pip's mortification. "No," he manages in a gasp and then, "Don't worry about it. It-- my fault. Holder ears. They hear-- things. That aren't--" At least the bluerider seems equally embarrassed by what he heard that wasn't meant. "Sorry." He tips his drink into his mouth because that worked out so well the last time. To Riennath, Zajeth's anger has calmed in the distraction their riders are providing. « When it's harmless, » he observes, « it can be fun to watch them flounder. » It's a testing comment. What does Riennath think? Does she find it droll when they bumble about so when things might seem straightforward to the outside observer? He somehow manages to make his way back to his wine, but he finishes off the rest of his glass just as soon as he has it in hand. "Can I-- do you mind if I have another?" He's not just going to drink all of Jase's decent wine without permission. Then again, he probably shouldn't drink too much of it anyway. Not if they intend on working with anything reasonably sharp in the near future. To Zajeth, Riennath is more relaxed now, but still well aware of both the blue, and his rider's affect on her own. « He does little else. » It's fond. She doesn't mind the way her rider bumbles through his life. « Yours does not make him feel so... wrong. » "Help yourself," is generous, though Jase is moving to help himself to a second glass when Pip has finished pouring his own, hovering near, but not too near while he waits his turn. "So," is almost awkward, but not so awkward that he doesn't manage to move forward with it, "A lot of your friends have baths, I guess? I know C'ris said he got a weyr with a bath, so maybe it's not that uncommon here? Or just... timing, maybe." To Riennath, Zajeth has no small measure of real pride in his rider as he answers, « That's because, to Jase, he is not. » There's nothing wrong with Pip. Nothing Jase can see, anyway. Zajeth offers a glimpse for Riennath of the glowing warmth that is how Zajeth perceives his lifemate, it's a living pulse of glow light and stars, of a wheaten moon with colors drawing veins through it, feelings and perceptions some bizarre kind of life's blood. Jase isn't perfect, but he's perfect in his imperfections to Zajeth. In that imperfect perfection, there's easy acceptance for Pip, just as he is, bumbling or not. P'tras steps away slightly when J'sae helps himself to the wine in his wake. "I know someone else who has a bath. One of the weyrlings. He's bronze, though," so maybe that counts for something in his case. It's a far cry from 'a lot of his friends,' though. It's a grand total of two, now three, that he's even aware of. "It's probably for the best I don't have my own. I'd probably get drunk and drown myself in it. Or slip on water and break my head. I don't think Ri would approve." To Zajeth, Riennath is interested in how the blue sees his rider. There's some minor exploration of that perception, but no immediate sharing of her own perception of P'tras. She agrees that there's nothing wrong with the man, though. He's everything to her. "I don't think anyone would approve," Jase replies, but there's a wry humor to his words. He sips on his glass, "You still didn't tell me if there's something particular you'd enjoy having carved. And I still want to know, even if-- well, in any case. What people like to have preserved or to be able to see whenever is pretty-- telling." There's a widening smile for that. As well he should be. Zajeth approves and doesn't hinder explorations. There's parts of that 'self' that are (though it doesn't seem at first) imperfect or shadowed and those Zajeth gingerly guards against too deep an exploration. Everyone's entitled to their secrets. (To Riennath from Zajeth) "This is why people sometimes look for complete strangers to deal with their artwork." P'tras is pink again, or still pink, or maybe just starting to feel his wine enough that he's going to look pink no matter what. "Maybe dragons on each side with a mountain in the middle, thread falling around it." Pretty much the most non-telling thing he could possibly think of. To Zajeth, Riennath starts to withdraw, away from his presence. She's not interested in being nosy or learning any of the blue's or his rider's secrets. Perhaps for much the same reason she doesn't offer Zajeth any closer exploration of her lifemate. And yet, Jase takes it like a canine to a bone. "Yeah? Why that? And it is. It's a kind of vanity, but also a sort of connection to the viewer, something deeper you didn't have before." A beat. "Usually," which couldn't possibly be a comment on the blandness of Pip's response, could it? There's a slight twist to Jase's smile, so maybe a little tease there, yes. This time, as she withdraws Zajeth is merely observant. « You're both armored, aren't you. Yours is just more effective and obvious. » Than Pip's, it would seem. « Perhaps I should tell Jase not to waste his time, » the tone is so innocuously idle that it's believable even in this fairly obvious attempt at provocation. (To Riennath from Zajeth) "I don't need it to be deep. Just interesting. Anyway, I don't think you'd want to carve what I want unless I was paying you pretty well." And that means that P'tras has no reason to tell him exactly what it is. "What would you want if you were me?" The greenrider's eyes focus longer on J'sae, studying bits of him from head to toe and back. The provocation works. To some extent. Riennath is instantly on guard for the sake of her rider, her presence a heavy weight against Zajeth's while something more anxious, something she can't disconnect from her protectiveness, reaches for P'tras to make sure all is well. « Perhaps you should. » (To Zajeth from Riennath) "Alright, not deep, just interesting," Jase agrees. Some pieces are certainly just that. "Why's that? Is it intricate?" There's certainly no sign that the bluerider has been given any advice from his dragon (or that he's heeded it, if he has). His answer is honest, either unaware of or unperturbed by Pip's study of him. "I don't know. Still getting to know you. Based on what I know," he extrapolates, perhaps just for fun, "The spires of High Reaches and your dragon. Home and love, two things that seem important to you." Even if he's never said as much. "Protection, too, but that's part of home and love," in Jase's pretty world anyway. That weight gets experimentally pushed back against by unseen forces. Does it give? How hard is her armor anyway? « You'd rather no one got under your armor, or his. You'd rather not have to take the chance, » the wily blue assesses, without needing confirmation to decide this is what he thinks. Zajeth contemplates a moment longer, « If it is your wish that he remain safely isolated, I will ask Jase to respect that. » Nevermind that it obviously sets up Riennath as the villain if Pip wanted Jase to not respect his safe isolation. (To Riennath from Zajeth) "It could be intricate. It would be better that way, probably. Less obvious." P'tras listens to J'sae's take on what he might want, both curious and willing to latch onto it in favor of having to admit to anything else in his head. "That sounds nice. Bet it would look good, too." For a moment it seems as though Riennath will rise to Zajeth's baiting, but instead she ultimately shuts down, nothing more than another stone in a Weyr full of rock. « His armor is his own, » is what she leaves him with. (To Zajeth from Riennath) It would be nice if canines were good about just giving up the bone when it was wished of them. Instead, Jase's head cants to one side, his look blithely inquisitive, "So are you going to tell me?" To Riennath, Zajeth doesn't pursue her this time, a simple sense of acquiescence to the gentlemanly incline of his head. Evidently, the riders will be left to manage their own affairs. P'tras is quiet, chewing on his lip while he considers his options. Whatever conclusion he comes to, what comes out of his mouth is probably unexpected. "Dicks. Breasts. Vaginas. Butts. A pattern of them so it looks kind of nice from a distance and you don't really know what you're looking at until you're up close. I've been working on drawing something like it, tried to etch out a bit into some leather, but I think I need it thicker to have enough depth. Wood is easier to get thick to try something like it without ruining a ton of it." He isn't looking at Jase while he talks (and talks) because then he'd have to see whatever face the bluerider makes now that he's come out with what he's been thinking about this whole time. Lamely, he adds on at the end, "So your idea is probably better." J'sae probably wasn't, in all earnestness, expecting that. He freezes (at least he wasn't drinking just then) and his unconsciously caught breath come out in a little puff. "Oh," isn't a judgmental noise, just a processing one. There's some rapid blinking and resting of his upper teeth on his lower lip as his hazel gaze drifts up and across the the ceiling. When he speaks, his voice doesn't sound any different than usual, "I think I can see it." Then he turns and walks to the foot of the rock-bottomed bed to open a press there, producing sketchbook and pencils which he brings back to the table and offers one of those pencils to Pip. "My idea is more universally friendly, but it's your weyr, so if someone doesn't want to see what you want to... fuck 'em." He seems to mean that, giving an encouraging gesture toward the paper. "Give me an idea," of what he means, presumably. Holder he might be and certainly that part of him shows when taken by surprise and applied to himself, the idea of sex, organs or otherwise, seems to bother him only so much as one might guess of a dragonman. He stares at the paper without doing anything for awhile. He might be trying to figure out if he can recant the thoughts he let loose. Then P'tras sighs and starts sketching out something quick and fast. "I don't have a lot of people that come over," he says while his hand moves. "Could always just put it in my room--" It all abruptly stops then, though. He sets down the pencil and lifts a hand to scratch at his cheek while he's shaking his head. "You know, never mind. If you want to make me something, do the dragon thing. I like that. This is... not something I should ask anyone else to do." He takes another gulp of wine, then gets up to pace toward the doorway. Work might sound better than letting people loiter around in his thought spaces. Jase was giving Pip his serious attention, his professional eye to the page, leaning a little to see as he sketches, though not uncomfortably close. When Pip stops so abruptly, he leans back, turning his head a little to look at Pip askance. It's true there's a bit of a blush, but that doesn't stop him from reaching to try to catch his arm to keep him from wandering off. "What? Pip-" there's sort of a nervous laugh from the bluerider before he says, "Do you think woodcraft apprentices are really different than tanner ones? I spent my teens doodling dicks and carving them into the desks at the Hall. You could probably still go find my early attempts from a boring lecture. Sealing wood," he chooses as his example, "Important, but so boring. Dicks everywhere. In the desks, I mean. Though, come to think of it the master teaching that one was--" and he stops his ramble, looking a little embarrassed. "It's seriously no big deal." P'tras is stopped pretty easily by the hand on his arm, turning back with furrowed brows to look at the bluerider. "What does anything have to do with woodcrafters versus tanners? I don't-- it has nothing to do with me being a tanner." He sounds a little baffled by the idea. That makes Jase laugh in a way that's more relaxed, his hand dropping away. "Fine, all teenage boys who have to sit in lecture. Shells, even all twenty-something men with a pulse." That might be the reason his blush is lingering. "I'm saying-- it's not something to be embarrassed about. Not to me." He's not judging Pip's proclivities. The laugh doesn't seem to sit particularly well with the greenrider, but it's difficult to tell what all actually sits well with him right now. P'tras looks uncomfortable and maybe a little frayed. "Did you still want to work on anything?" he asks with a gesture toward the wallow where the supplies are waiting for them. It's apparently all he can think to say now. Jase picks up on something. His look is abruptly troubled as he studies P'tras' face. "Sorry," he says after a moment, "I'm sorry, Pip. I did something-- said something-- asked something--" he's not exactly sure, "--wrong. I come on strong, sometimes," he admits it awkwardly, "too interested. I just-- wanted to get to know you better." That much is said simply with a slight rise and fall of his shoulders that isn't quite a shrug because it does matter. "Maybe-- do you want to go? We can-- do work some other time? Just work. No talking. No Jase idiocy." He's promising. "It's not you." The greenrider can say that sincerely. "You seem great. It's--" He pauses, shakes his head. "It's not you, Jase. I just don't want you to get to know me and then..." Never want to have anything else to do with him ever again, basically. "I thought maybe if I told you about that stuff, you'd want me to go and I wouldn't have to worry about something else being wrong." But he at least seemed okay with it and now Pip has to worry about doing something else that might blow up in his face. There's a small movement that might be Jase wanting to go toward Pip, but he stays rooted where he stands, looking something between sad and confused. "Do you-- want me to not-- like you? I mean. I'm the new guy, Pip. You seemed-- seem great, and I just--" He pauses awkwardly. "I don't have any friends here. But if you don't want-- I mean, you don't have to humor me," that's a little more upset but not less real. To Riennath, Zajeth's presence is still close enough to the green that she probably won't miss the bristling he does at this apparent rejection. He's ready to be indignant, to take Jase's part. He stops just shy of asking what fool thing Pip might be thinking. "No," isn't an answer that's going to clear up a whole lot for J'sae. "I don't want you to not like me. That's not it at all. You seem like the kind of guy I could be friends with. Good friends. I just-- I don't want to be afraid that I'm gonna do or say something that upsets you or makes you not like me or not want to be my friend." To Zajeth, Riennath is well aware of her rider's peculiarities. She seems unconcerned about how the boys will handle this on their own, willing to be there to comfort P'tras if he needs her rather than protect him from the moment. Jase looks at him, still confused, but-- "What could you do?" He wonders, really wonders. "What do you think would upset me or frighten me away?" He seems genuinely bewildered, but he's not unkind with his look or manner. To Riennath, Zajeth doesn't seem particularly satisfied with this answer. He doesn't like being poised ready to be the feline who puffs in the face of that which requires puffing, not knowing yet if he should. It's tenterhooks. And he doesn't like it. "I don't know. I might say I like you or something and then you won't like it and I'll have to leave and the wing will be awkward and I don't want to do that." As one example. P'tras doesn't look like he wants to 'reason' through anymore of them. To Zajeth, Riennath would roll her eyes if she were physically capable of doing so. Instead, she offers a patient, if somewhat weary, « Relax. Unless you intend on doing something interesting. » Now whose turn is it to be annoying~ "Pip," Jase tries to put emphasis into that word, a nearly defeated tenderness. "That's not going to happen. Not-- the-- If you said that, things would be-- I'm-- I'd be fine. We'd be fine. The wing would be fine. Everything would be fine," he finishes, lamely, hurriedly. Then his hands are rubbing over his face, "Man, I'm fucking this talking up so good." At least he acknowledges it, and given Jase's general precision with language, the choice of 'so good' is probably meant as a comment on the level of fucking up. To Riennath, Zajeth doesn't do anything interesting, nor does he relax, cutting the noncorporeal version of the green a noncorporeal dirty look. P'tras doesn't look entirely convinced that it's not going to happen. He frowns uncertainly at J'sae, but shakes his head. "You're fine, Jase. Really." But he looks down and, not sure what else to do, brings back up what the bluerider had already suggested. "Maybe I should go and we can try this again some other time?" "Do you?" Might be a blurt. Jase's cheeks are darkening though and he has taken a step toward the greenrider lest he be leaving already. "Like me?" The question surprises P'tras more than he realizes it could. He stares at J'sae for several moments, but the hesitation doesn't help his words sound anymore intelligent. "I... I think so. I mean, I do. I like you. I wouldn't want to be your friend if I didn't like you. Would it be okay if I liked you?" Different sort of like, that. Jase looks at Pip for a long moment as if he, too, is somehow surprised (even if someone as smart as he should definitely have seen the question coming). "Yeah?" It comes out sounding less sure than he probably means it, given that his next is, "Yeah," substantially more sure. "I mean, we're-- I don't know you that well, so I don't know if we'd want to make something of it if you did, or I did, or--" He looks awkward but only because he's suddenly flustered. "Man, I'm really not this big of an idiot. I had a proper education and everything," not that it's doing his use of language any good just now. "Good," says Pip after another few moments of silence where he decides whether this actually is good or not. "There doesn't need to be... anything. This is okay." He tries to smile, but it's just as awkward as J'sae's attempts at anything to this point. "I didn't mean to make everything weird, I'm sorry." "It's fine," Jase attempts reassurance; it's not awful, but it's not especially reassuring. He does step toward P'tras now though, moving close enough that he can reach out a hand, tentatively, to grasp the greenrider's bicep lightly. "Probably better to have things out in the open anyway. Easier to know where you stand. Or don't." Here the hand drops away again," I'm not straight." It's an awkward admission and certainly the holder in him has a blush for it, "I haven't had relationships, really, always too caught up with my work. I can't say I'm not still that," he sounds a little like he regrets that much. "I'd like to-- spend time together." It sounds lame when he says it. "Talk, work together, whatever. I mean," what does he mean? He doesn't seem to know. P'tras doesn't move away from that touch, but he glances down at J'sae's hand before looking up at his face as it drops away. "I'm not, either," he says, uncertainly enough that he can't be sure if that's the right response or not. Or maybe he assumes people just automatically assume that about him. "I think if I was as good at my work as you are at yours, I'd probably be even more caught up with it than I already am." The rest, though, earns an earnest, "I'd like to spend time together." That last makes J'sae's hands come clapping together in front of him, "Great," seems truly relieved and pleased. "Then-- let's do that." That spending time together thing. "And we'll just-- play it by ear?" See what happens? Nothing could go wrong. The greenrider jumps at the sound of the clap, but he smiles in the following moments. "Okay. We'll do that." He doesn't have anything substantial to add, but P'tras seems much more relaxed now that J'sae hasn't freaked out at him for being, well, himself. "Drink?" Jase offers with some measure of humor, his smile still relieved, his hand inviting back toward where the bottle still sits. "The work can wait." He's apparently decided that drinks are the priority now. P'tras glances at the doorway, considers, then nods. "More to drink sounds like it might be a good idea." Now that he doesn't have to worry about everything he's been worrying about. Pip makes his way back to the chair he'd claimed before and lifts his glass to empty it in a quick gulp. Jase takes a rock step back while P'tras considers the door, a gesture surely meant to indicate he'd not stop the greenrider if he'd rather take his leave. The smile, though, is for the staying. He moves to pour into the glasses, to top them off. "Is there something it would be good for me to ask you about? I feel like I've been rotten at picking topics tonight." All the wrong ones, apparently. "You really haven't been. I'm just... kind of dumb sometimes." Sometimes. "We can talk about anything." For instance, "Riennath isn't sure if she likes Zajeth or not. She says he's persistent." This seems to be amusing to the greenrider rather than anything negative. "You're not," Jase refuse to believe it, but he doesn't give the greenrider a chance to argue or offer examples. "That's... unfortunate," the bluerider returns with a look of muted amusement. "She'd be better off resigning herself to enjoy him. Since he's decided she's entertaining." She's never going to be rid of him. "I think she'll be okay. She likes more dragons than she doesn't, even if she won't admit it." P'tras takes a drink, makes a face, but for himself, not the wine. "I guess I like more people than I'd like to admit, too. Sometimes I wish I wasn't like that so much." "Why? I mean, no, I know-- It's hard when you like a lot of people," here, Jase certainly means just 'like,' "but it's better to have an open heart than one that's-- I mean, have you met some of those riders twice our age who are so shut down that you'd think they never liked a person in their life? I think we're the lucky ones. I mean, yeah, our feelings probably get hurt more and that never not sucks, but when we're around people we want to be there, right? That's something, I think." Brows lift in question to Pip as J'sae drinks, does Pip think so too? "Yeah," says P'tras, looking at J'sae with a new sort of curiosity. "I guess I'd rather like people I shouldn't and get hurt than be lonely forever." He lets his gaze drop to his wine, then takes another drink. "As lonely as Ri lets me be, anyway." But dragons and people just aren't quite the same. "Exactly." J'sae agrees with a smile that's probably too broad for loneliness by choice. "That's what work's good for. And friends." It's mostly into his glass that he adds a teasing, "and artistically carved or drawn phallics, breasts and other erotic scenes." It's definitely meant as a good natured tease, but there's something anxious in the flick of his gaze across Pip's face in case he's just crossed a line. Again. P'tras looks a little sheepish, but not to the extent that would suggest any lines have been crossed. "Might want to put that in my bedroom or I might scare off anyone who ends up coming over." Since anyone who ends up in his bedroom probably won't mind that sort of thing quite so much. "Have you made enough friends since you got here?" "Might, but no reason you couldn't have something more subtle above the hearth. I like to hide images in my work anyway. Not usually genitalia," he qualifies, but if you can hide a hen, why not a cock?" Jase smiles at his own humor - probably he's hidden chickens before. "Uh, a lot of work acquaintances. C'ris maybe?" He sounds uncertain. "That's sort of a work thing too. And you," also sort of a work thing for anyone keeping track. The joke makes P'tras grin to himself even if he doesn't laugh outright. "I think in that case, I'd just get something that wouldn't turn anyone off if they found it. But maybe I shouldn't worry about the people that would bother anyway." They don't seem like the most fun people, after all. "Maybe you should get out more. We need to have some non-work fun before we get too old to have it or we might regret it later." "Maybe you shouldn't. It's your place. How often do you have professional get-togethers there?" Jase seems genuinely willing to help P'tras make this critical decorating decision. It can't be just because there's cocks involved, surely. "I probably should. You should show me the ropes around here," he encourages with one of his boyishly charming smiles. "I've mostly been trying to network for the work connections, figure out where I stand, what I can get away with, but things are starting to slow down that way," a gesture indicates P'tras' presence here tonight. Social! Sort of. "I've never had a professional get-together at my place. I have clients over sometimes, I guess." But the way his face twists after P'tras says it probably means that's not his most favorite thing ever. "I'm not much of a rope shower. But you could come play cards with me some night. Or... I bet you'd be fun to drag to a Gather. We could dance together and make people uncomfortable." He's mostly teasing, but he's also grinning. "How much time do clients spend looking at your things?" It's a real question, valid data for crunching the numbers and determining if the risk is worth the reward. "I have a thing for not getting my nose busted, and my family doesn't really know, so... I kind of am more comfortable keeping it that way unless there's a reason for them to know. A someone for them to know." J'sae blushes a little and drinks before shifting in his chair, "But cards sounds good. Or, I don't know, investigating the Weyr. Or another Weyr. Or some beaches somewhere. Without angry mobs of holders who don't want us threatening their lifestyle." He twists his glass in his hands and then drinks again, his tone edging on nervousness. "Oh." P'tras is surprised by that for one reason or another. "Okay. Yeah, that's... all fine." He comes back around to the work stuff, then, "Not a lot of time. It's usually for making sure I know what size their feet are, or other sorts of measurements for things I'm making that they'll wear. I've taught some of them how to do certain stitches that they want to do to make their leathers look fancy, but they usually just want me to do it for them." "Sorry," Jase offers sheepishly. "Holders. It's not a very good excuse, but it's the only one I have. I love them, and I'm not sure they'd see past what bothers them to still love me after. Seems like... if I'm going to risk losing them it should be for a reason." A good one. "It's-- I'd dance with you," that's abrupt, "Here, if you wanted. Or somewhere." A hatching feast maybe. Somewhere more... Weyr-friendly. "Anyway, I'd say you could put whatever you wanted there, then. Your friends will laugh with you, a shared secret, the rest..." He shrugs. "No, it's fine. I... I know what it's like. Really. My family are holders. I just don't really talk to them very much anymore." P'tras shrugs that off, but offers Jase a small smile. He understands. "That doesn't sound so bad. Maybe I'll just stop letting customers come over at all. Make them meet me in the complex." He might do that regardless of anything with penises on it in his weyr, judging from the way he says it. It sounds like something he should've thought of already. "Oh yeah?" These two words invite explanation without pressure. Jase finds the bottle empty when he reaches for it. Looking at it thoughtfully, he suggests, somewhat reluctantly, "Maybe we should call it a night?" P'tras doesn't respond to that invitation right away and, despite being more relaxed, he seems a little more eager than J'sae to grasp at that idea. Maybe he doesn't want to answer that badly. "That's probably a good idea. This has been nice, though." He smiles, but rises, putting down his glass and rubbing his hands against his pants before holding one out to the bluerider. A farewell handshake? J'sae seems to take no offense at being taken up on the suggestion. "Yeah, it has," he agrees readily with a head bob. "We should do it again," comes with the clasp of both his hands over Pip's in a warm return of the gesture. "Or cards at your place. Or work. I promise won't ask you to bring leather again without putting it to use." He'll even go with P'tras to help with said leather, to get it out to the ledge and all that. "It's okay," he says for bringing leather that he didn't end up using, rubbing the back of his neck on the way to pick it up to take out to the ledge. "We'll do... something, yeah." P'tras loads up Riennath as soon as she's returned, all practiced ease and familiarity with the dragon who only seems interested in picking up her rider and taking him back home with her. |
Comments
Alida (23:14, 31 December 2015 (PST)) said...
I enjoyed seeing not only the humans, but the dragons interact. :)
That said... *Ilicaeth goggles at Riennath* Ilicaeth is so social that he can overlook the more 'quiet' dragons. But I can tell you that he's really going to want to try to get to know Riennath better* :D
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