[Log] Screwy Little Shit
Who: K'tric, M'uri (NPC)
When: Day 20, Month 4, Turn 3, 7th Pass
Where: M'uri and Kelkoth's Weyr, Western Islands
What: K'tric goes to see M'uri.
Up the cliffs climbs K'tric, heading for one particular weyr, and not one of his usual stops, either. This is a new one: M'uri's, and the climb up is carefully made this first trip. When he reaches the ledge, though, he stops to glance around, then head to the door, just walking in. If M'uri's there, he's happy to offer a 'hi' in greeting, but if not, he settles in to wait, making himself at home in the meantime.
M'uri is at home, being that particular time of the day when he's often home. And he's entertaining guests too, so the sound of an approach isn't an unexpected one. The visitor, however, is. Seated amidst a group of three other riders, M'uri glances toward the ledge when Kelkoth sends a confused message to his rider. M'uri, with an upheld hand, silences his companion's heated debate. His eyes slide from K'tric to them, and in a wordless exchange, his three companions are dismissed. The trio walks by K'tric, eyeing the weyrling with no small amount of surprise or amusement. Within short order it is just K'tric and M'uri, who levels a stern look on the younger man. "Well?"
"Bye," K'tric offers the exiting visitors, even as he continues inward before finally stopping. "D'rian said I should come talk to you," he notes, even as he moves to seat himself on the floor, looking expectantly up at the older brownrider. "He thinks it will be good for me--he says you can straighten me out again."
At K'tric's actions, M'uri's expression twitches. It's amusement - or so K'tric might want to hope. "That so." He asks, drawing a hand up to rub at his face, "Why's he think you need straightening?" M'uri pauses for but a second, then asks, "You're that boy, aren't you? The one they gave the boot to?"
"I don't know," admits K'tric, with a lift of his shoulders. His eyes never leave M'uri's face. "He just told me I did, and I should talk to you about it. You should ask him, or Taikath, why they think that." Pause. "They exiled me, yes. But that was almost a turn ago now."
"Right," M'uri says, his tone a low drawl, "You're him." His lips widen in a smile that is a little too amused, "My boy thinks you oughta talk to me...." M'uri leans back, drawing his arms across his chest. Tilting his chin upward to view K'tric at a slight angle, he asks, "What do you think of him, my boy?"
"D'rian doesn't like me very much," K'tric admits, frowning seriously. "But I don't think he hates me, not like he says he does. He told me he wished I'd die in Threadfall but Kas says he didn't really mean it. And he told me to talk to you, which I think is nice of him. He didn't have to try to help me."
While K'tric speaks, M'uri's gaze roams over K'tric, studying him from head to toe, looking at him and looking away. "Not like my boy to just not like someone," M'uri allows after an uncomfortably long minute, "Means something. That he doesn't." His gaze at last switches back to K'tric, void of anything warm or compassionate, "Kas. That's your green - Kasvatuth," A low rumble from the ledge evidences Kelkoth's assistance in the name-fetching field. "You a green boy?"
"Kasvatuth," agrees K'tric, nodding. "That's her." Pause. "Well, she's green?" he volunteers after a moment, brows knitting at the question he doesn't really understand.
"Right," M'uri says, his genial tone at a stark contrast to the intensity behind his regard, "You're a green boy. And he sent you up here to talk to me." M'uri's lips purse, almost like he wants to laugh but can't quite find the humor to do so. After another pause, he pulls himself upright and leans forward, resting his elbows atop his knees, "Tell me what you did wrong, boy, that got you sent here with the rest of us. Might help me figure out what's wrong with you."
"I kidnapped a girl," K'tric says at once, easily. "And held her hostage a few days. But she understood, so it was okay. She loves me now--we're in love." Pause. He hesitates, then confesses, "I smashed eggs, too."
M'uri is, for a very very long time, stone silent. The man's expression changes too, shifting from bland amusement to cold neutrality. For once, the coldness in his dark eyes at last matches his expression. "Smashed some eggs," The first words he repeats are those, a twist of casualness upon them, "And kidnapped a girl who's in love with you."
"Yes," agrees K'tric, with a nod. That's all he says for the moment, just sitting there and studying M'uri's face with a half-smile.
"Plan on going back to her, too," M'uri assumes, looking away from him to Kelkoth who has since turned to stare at the back of K'tric's head, "Gonna make her your woman, knock her up and spit out some little green boys?" Rhetorical - it has to be rhetorical - "Bet she just cried all sorts of tears when they booted you, didn't she?"
"As soon as I can go home to her," agrees K'tric, nodding. "I would marry her, except now I'm a rider, so we'll have to settle for just weyrmating. But I'd love to have lots of kids--I love children, and big families--my family was small, just me and my brother and our dad. My Aida came to visit me, though, when they captured me." Pause. "She didn't cry then, but I think she was just trying to be strong for me."
"Aida," M'uri repeats quietly, a gleam entering his eyes, "Knew a girl named Mida. Big chested, had curves from here to--" He trails off, looking suddenly back to K'tric, "Girl wasn't bein' strong for you, boy, she was damn glad to see you caught. Screwy little shit like you, I'd be surprised if /anyone/ missed you." He flips a hand toward K'tric, a crass motion meant to belittle the younger man, "You ain't /all/ green boy, but you're enough," His lips thin and he pushes a small breath out, "Damn bluerider and his notions."
The half-smile K'tric has been wearing freezes and then fades, replaced by a frown as he stares at M'uri. "I don't... I don't understand," he says after a moment, bewildered. "She loves me. I know she does. She was always nice to me."
"You know those boys we took?" M'uri asks, "Ones from the mainland? You think any of them love us? Think just 'cause they act all nice and happy to be here they really are?" M'uri snorts and waves his hand back toward K'tric again, "Nice just means they want something from you. Women are like that. What'd you give her, boy, this Aida - what'd you give her?"
"I didn't give her anything," says K'tric, looking taken aback. "There wasn't time. We kidnapped her on day 24, fourth month, and then took her back to the Weyr on day 2, fifth month. And I didn't see her again until just briefly, day sixteen, month five--when they were holding me at the Weyr, the night they brought me here."
It might be a trick of the light, or it might actually be that M'uri's eyes cross as K'tric gives specific dates for his deeds. When they're straight again, he's looking a little dubiously at K'tric. "Damn it all, boy, you ain't right in the head." He eases out a sigh, a most painful little sigh, "This girl of yours...she hung you out. Her visiting you wasn't ever about love. You did wrong by her and she got you by the balls. Now you're sitting here on this island and she's back there, laying with some other guy."
"She wouldn't do that to me," K'tric says, still steadfast in that belief. "E'sere told me she ended things with her weyrmate after I left--he was the reason we kidnapped her, to force him to step down from his wingleader's position. He was a brownrider there, and he took the knot from the Weyrleader from Igen. Aida didn't hang me out; she wouldn't. She's not like that at all." Sniff. He looks very definitely hurt now at the accusations leveled at his girl.
"The 'Reachian?" M'uri asks, a note of surprise tinting his tone. "He's one to listen to," M'uri remarks next, "Damn bronzerider s'got his balls nailed to the wall." M'uri makes another derisive flip of his hand, shooing either K'tric or his claims away, "Girl fucked you over, boy. Got you to hang yourself, did it herself... you don't see her here, do you? Cut your loses, find yourself a girl here and settle down-" That cruel glint in M'uri's eyes lights briefly, and he says, "Find yourself a nice boy and settle down. Forget about that girl."
"She didn't do anything to deserve being here," K'tric protests, shaking his head slowly. "I couldn't ask her to come along into this with me. And... I can't just forget about her. I love her. I love other people, too, but... it's not the same. Have you ever been in love?"
"Boy-" M'uri's tone takes on a slant - one of many he has - "You're about the dumbest person I ever met. You don't /love/ a woman. You get her in your bed, get some time with her and you give her the boot. Send her on her way with a slap on the ass and a well done..." He doesn't bother finishing, just looks away, chuckling in quiet amusement.
"I feel sorry for you, then," K'tric says, quiet but sincere as he studies M'uri intently. "Because that doesn't sound very fulfilling at all. I love Aida, and I don't care about being with another random woman until I get bored and trade her in."
M'uri shrugs, the gesture quite helpless and uncaring, "Do what you gotta do, boy. That girl of yours don't love you. Nothing anyone can say will make you think different either." He eases out of his seat and moves away from K'tric, toward a slab of wood wedged into the side of his cave. A cup is lifted and drank heavily from, M'uri's attention and concern on such and not the weyrling he left behind.
"It sounds very sad, and lonely," insists K'tric, "and even if Aida didn't love me, I'd rather believe she did because it gives me hope. No wonder D'rian is so funny about things, though. I think I need to help straighten you both out now. What happened to his mother?"
"Hope," M'uri scoffs again, still drinking from his cup, "If you need some girl loving you to give you hope, you belong on that green of yours." He sets the cup down soundly, the echo reverberates briefly in the cave as M'uri returns to stand before K'tric, "Mother's some greenrider back on the mainland and nothing is wrong with my boy, so you keep your business out of his. Turn'll be over soon."
"Did his mother do something to you?" K'tric asks in that profoundly tactless way of his. "Is that why you don't like women very much?" He tilts his head, curious, as he cranes his neck up to look at the rider standing over him.
M'uri studies K'tric, his answer a brief command, "Stand up, boy. Let me take a look at you."
Obediently, K'tric pushes himself to his feet, tugging briefly at his shirt to straighten it, and then donning a half-smile for the brownrider, his eyes expectant of--something.
M'uri is silent as he walks around K'tric, his steps solid, his position close enough that he brushes by both of K'tric's shoulders upon passing them. When he's finished circling and studying K'tric, he stands in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest once more. "Take a little work," he surmises, "Kinda a scrawny little thing, got no sense in that head of yours... But my boy weren't no better when I started with him."
"Started with him?" K'tric queries, blinking at M'uri and reaching to push his hair back again.
M'uri watches the hair playing with a tight lipped frown. "First thing," he says, gesturing with his chin in K'tric's general direction, "You get that hair of yours cut off. You ain't a girl, got no reason to wear your hair like that."
"I don't understand," says K'tric, bewildered. "What's wrong with my hair? I've always had it this way, as long as I can remember."
"Cut it off." M'uri repeats, stressing each of the three words in tone as much as he does expression.
K'tric hesitates a moment longer, uncertain, then nods, giving his agreement.
"You get that done," M'uri says, his tone even and dry, "You come back and see me. We'll talk some more. Get that head of yours on straight."
K'tric nods again. "Okay," he agrees aloud, though he's still frowning. "I'll come back then." He turns then, moving back toward the ledge.