[Log] You Only Call When You Want Something
Who: I'neph, Zaorine
When: Day 4, Month 8, Turn 448
Where: Zaorine and Jasmyth's Weyr, Benden Weyr
What: Zaorine has a new mission for I'neph.
Zaorine's Weyr Late Summer. Thunder. 74F / 23C.
Large by even queen weyr standards, the most dominating features about Zaorine and Jasmyth's weyr are the high ceilings and natural archways. Foremost in the weyr is an area for Jasmyth. Consisting of a stone couch near the entrance of the bathing chamber, it is in the warmest corner of the weyr second to the hearth.
Kitty-corner to Jasmyth's couch, the hearth is defined by a simple woven rug and a low bench. A makeshift desk rests not too far away and atop this are a small number of hides. More hides and various personal items are found in the many nooks and crannies found throughout the weyr. Beneath the smallest of archways is the sleeping area. Curtains situated around it provide privacy and shelter from the glow of the hearth when drawn.
-- Players --
I'neph.........6', athletic; olive skin, dark brown eyes & hair; mid/late 20s. Cute but worthless.
Zaorine........5'3", green eyes & brown hair. Pretty. Quiet presence.
-- Dragons --
Jasmyth........Gold dragon.
-- Exits --
Out......................[O]
Jasmyth, industrious worker that she is, has sent for I'neph via I'neph's other half. Zaorine, even more industrious, has set the stage for what promises to be an interesting evening. The weyr is empty save for herself and the skin of wine resting upon its side atop her table. Two chairs are present, one currently occupied by the weyrwoman, the other pushed out and away from the table in anticipation of her arriving guest. For now, Zaorine doesn't break into her still-sealed skin and passes the time waiting for I'neph by twirling a strand of hair around one finger.
Despite the summons, it's quite some time before I'neph finally comes straggling in--nearer bedtime, when he can't put it off any longer. He heads up to the ledge with a sour, resigned look, and stops in the doorway of the weyr to fold his arms over his chest and look in. "Hey."
Zaorine is not, by virtue, a patient person. By the time I'neph makes his way in, she's already cracked the skin and is more than half way through it. His greeting comes as she seeks to lesson the quantity inside the skin by one mouthful. The liquid is swirled around her mouth - savored for the sake of making him wait - before she swallows and motions to the seat across from her. "Got lost?"
"Busy," says I'neph, not moving a step closer. The chair is eyed with some misgiving, and he shakes his head. "I'm fine, thanks. Can't really stay and chat--it's been one of those days, and Dioscuth and I are about to go get some sleep, you know?" He tilts his head slightly, shoulders lifting in a habitual gesture.
"I'neph - Nephie," Zaorine cajoles, leaning forward to tap the table before the chair, "Have a drink with me. I've missed having you around." The whole one time she actually /had/ him around, that is, "Please?" Favoring him with a tiny, pathetic smile, Zaorine swishes the skin as though the promise of booze were one that would seal the deal.
"Yeah, I figured," says I'neph, lingering sulkily a moment longer, then shuffling inside a little further. "I hear Al'zay makes a good second choice, though. You know those brownriders--good at being second all around."
"Oh Nephie," Zaorine sets the skin down, reaching toward I'neph with an outstretched hand, "You look so much cuter when you're not sulking. Besides, I didn't run to -Al'zay- that night, did I? No-" Answering her question herself, Zaorine smiles (again), "I went to you. Now quit being silly and come have a drink with me."
As Zaorine touches him, I'neph shrugs again, but follows this time. "You leave any?" he asks idly,, eyeing the skin and then glancing around the weyr unenthusiastically. "What d'you want this time, anyway?"
"Plenty left for you," Zaorine confirms, releasing her hold and pushing the skin toward him. "He's gone, Nephie. For a while, at least. And I wanted to talk. We can talk, can't we?" Leaning back in her seat, Zao regards him for a moment, "She's gotten to you. Hasn't she?" Assumption or trying to bluff him. Either way, what's done is done.
I'neph eyes the skin, swishes it around, and then lifts it to his lips for a long swig. "Yeah, sure," he agrees with a lackadaisical shrug--his characteristic motion. And then: "Breide? More recently than you, anyway." It's not an accusation. Really.
"I'm not surprised," Disgusted, Zaorine leans back and continues watching I'neph, "Tell me something. How far are you willing to go, 'Neph? For her. If she asked you to do something... how far are you willing to go in following her? Blindly, I might add."
I'neph drops unceremoniously into the chair, slouching into it. His brows arch at the question posed to her, and he asks, "I dunno. What d'you mean? I don't do nothing for her, really. Except sleep with her every once in a while," he concedes, "but who don't do that?"
"Me. I'd like to think there's at least /one/ man here who hasn't, but-" Zaorine looks a little more disappointed on that than she should, but the emotion is fleeting; soon passed in favor of, "How well do you know her?"
"Known her all my life," answers I'neph, brows knitting. "We grew up together, back at Fort." Pause. "I was the first, by the way," he feels compelled to tack on after a second.
"How far do you think she's willing to go, 'Neph?" Her voice low and private, Zaorine leans in closer to I'neph, resting one arm atop the table while offering the other out to him, "If she'd have known what was good for her, she'd have stuck with just you." Praise that's easily given, even encouraged.
"Go for what?" I'neph asks blankly, as the praise rolls right on over him--along with whatever Zaorine's trying to hint at.
"To get what she wants," Zaorine replies, the question apparently obvious to her.
"I dunno?" says I'neph, blank as ever as he scratches his head. And takes another gulp of wine, because this is definitely one of those nights. "Long way, I guess. Whatever it takes?"
"Do me a favor?" Leaning in closer again, and raising her hand to trail fingers along his cheek, Zaorine goes for eye contact, "If I ask you, will you? Will you swear on Dioscuth that you won't tell anyone?"
I'neph's eyes cut sideways toward Zaorine's hand against his cheek, then back to her face, wary. "Yeah, sure," he agrees, nodding once, barely.
"It's a secret," Zaorine reminds, easing out of her chair and moving to settle on the arm of his. She twines her fingers through his hair while laying her other hand atop his shoulder, "I'm trusting it with you, I'neph." Leaning in close and brushing her lips against his ear, the secret is whispered; Zaorine's focus becomes I'neph when she straightens, awaiting his reply.
Zaorine whispers, "I want you to find out how she managed it."
I'neph blinks, leaning back to study Zaorine with furrowed brows again. "Managed... being Weyrwoman," he says then, as though just to make sure. His expression is very dubious indeed. "Pretty sure her dragon rose first...."
"I was sick, you know," Zaorine says, returning to rifling through his hair, "-she did. When Jasmyth was due. Overdue, at that. You don't think there's anything wrong with that?"
"Hey, don't come griping to me if your dragon can't get her biological clock thingy ticking right," I'neph defends himself with another skeptical look at Zaorine.
"We've both lost. She betrayed you and she betrayed me, I'neph." Zaorine straightens again, dropping her hand to the back of his neck, "I don't think you had anything to do with it, and I'd /like/ to think she didn't either... but you said so yourself. She'd do anything."
"So..." I'neph hesitates, looking to Zaorine once more, lips pursing. "Just what did she do?"
Zaorine says, in that same little full-of-praise tone, "That, my dear bronzerider, is what I want you to find out."
"Huh." I'neph studies Zaorine a moment longer, then shrugs. "Okay," he agrees. Then, making as if to stand: "That all?"
"You're not to tell anyone, I'neph. I can trust you on that, can't I?" Zaorine slides from the arm of his chair and moves behind it, watching him as he stands.
"Of course," I'neph brushes off that concern with a wave of his hand. "See you later." He's already starting to shuffle off toward the door, unhurried.
"'Nephie?" Zaorine waits until he's mostly to the door before calling out to him, "-You won't mind if I come visit you tomorrow, will you?"
"Knock yourself out," says I'neph with a shrug as he pauses at the door. "S'fine. Just tell us when."
"That's what I'm trying to avoid," Zaorine muses, "Have a good night, 'Neph."
I'neph gives Zaorine an odd look, then shrugs. "Night," he says, and leaves.