Logs:Then His Brain Quit
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| RL Date: 20 September, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: After fleeing from Telavi in his weyr, and trying to get Madilla to heal his wounds, physical and emotional, K'zin finds a place to sleep, only the night isn't done with him yet. |
| Where: Empty Ground Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions, T'volt/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Aaaaangst. Back-dated. |
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| For Rasavyth, it was easy to guess when K'zin told Madilla he had somewhere to stay that he would be called upon to reach for Nicaith's mind of moonlight and shadows. When the Telgari bronze answered back that tonight wasn't a good night, even for just crashing on T'volt's couch, K'zin had to come up with a new plan, lest Madilla handcuff him to an infirmary cot upon finding out that he was sleeping out in the cold somewhere. K'zin and Rasavyth had a functional partnership, but not much more. It was another betrayal that they had to work their way back from. Though this was not so bad as the first, even if as equally unexpected. Mostly, K'zin just wondered why Rasavyth had to be such a dick. Rasavyth didn't deign to answer such a question. Perhaps they would have reforged their bond more quickly if he had, or if he'd at least bothered to riposte with some dirty-minded bit of humor. K'zin had set it up for him, as if, deep down, he wanted the rift healed. Perhaps because he wanted it, Rasavyth wouldn't allow it so. The dragon was still holding him accountable. However, Rasavyth did help when he was asked, if the task wasn't disagreeable. The task of helping K'zin sort out which of the nearest ground weyrs were empty wasn't, so he helped. It didn't make it a quick process, but it did make things go faster than it would have otherwise. Which was good, since K'zin's head had been throbbing since he took the punch that prettied up his eye so nicely. Maybe he should've mentioned that to Madilla... Oh well. He wasn't going to worry about it now. The weyr was dark when he entered, and chilly. He'd procured a blanket for himself from the crafter lounge once he knew he was on his own for a place to sleep, and he wraps it around his shoulders now to guard against the cold. A fire is the next priority. Since ground weyrs are often used for guests, a supply for the hearth is kept prepared. For this, K'zin is grateful. It isn't until the fire is starting to flicker in a way that suggest it will keep on like that without K'zin's constant attention that the bronzerider realizes he's not alone. Rasavyth is back on his own ledge now; no reason he should be homeless tonight. "I hardly recognized you in the dark." The deep voice is colored with severity; as ever, the bass is unmistakable. K'zin is up and whirling, silhouetted against the shifting of the flames. His mouth is agape and he's staring. "Well, now I'm sure it's you." Though the voice is serious, K'zin recognizes the tell-tale hints of amusement around the edges of the man's straight-set lips. It's the closest this man ever comes to smiling. K'zin should probably say something, but his brain has just quit. After the brawl that turned ugly, uglier than he'd told anyone he'd met with tonight, and after the fight with Telavi which still had his heart and head aching, and after the scolding from Madilla... This well-remembered face was too much. So he just stared. "You look like you've been an idiot tonight." From another, this would be teasing. From this man, it's simple assessment and delivery of verdict. "I see that hasn't changed either." He steps toward the man he no longer dwarfs, but still has inches on and doesn't hesitate in a reach that has his hand gripping the younger man's jaw and turning it toward the fire so he can get a better look at the bruising. "What happened?" K'zin starts to step back, turns upon turns of habit having him trying to pull his face out of the other man's grip. Unfortunately for the bronzerider, turns upon turns of habit have the man's strong hand gripping K'zin's shoulder and keeping him from wiggling loose, pinning him with his usual unnervingly steady gaze. "Brawl. Near Lemos." The turns and turns have taught that fewer words are better. Well, maybe not better, but safer. A single brow arches, the man's look unimpressed. "Was it called for?" No answer. The question comes again, "Was it called for?" K'zin makes a small annoyed noise, one that would more readily be drawn from a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar than a 'grown' man as he claimed to be to Madilla not long before. "No." Glumly. "Wakizian." The name is all it takes to effectively scold. The rider's contrite only a moment. Then as an annoyed oozy presence in his mind asserts itself, K'zin pulls out of the man's grip. « That is not your name. » "It's K'zin. And I don't need you to lecture me. What are you doing here?" Finally K'zin allows some of the bewilderment that's kept him on the defensive to be used more assertively. Zakari has never been one to avoid the business at hand in favor of small talk. His lips twitch slightly. It's the most emotion he shows when he's agitated or upset, and that alone is enough to give K'zin a sense of foreboding, even before the words, "It's father. I thought you would want to know..." |
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