[Log] The Big Chill
Who: K'del, Milani, Tiriana
When: Day 1, Month 2, Turn 18
Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr
What: Chilling out turns into not so much chilling out, except between Iovniath and Cadejoth.
Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr
With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life.
Contents:
K'del
Milani
Obvious exits:
Inner Caverns
"Yeah, plenty of people around to teach you," Milani agrees from the depths of one of the chairs right by the hearth, her legs hanging over the arm facing K'del who's sitting in the same position in the chair opposite. "Mm," Milani says with a little shrug and then she laughs. "I've only be an assistant for -- oh shells, it's coming up on five turns!" And she suddenly makes big eyes at K'del like she really didn't realize how much time had gone by.
"'Only'?" teases K'del, dropping the earlier topic for this one, laughing as he speaks. "Must've been pretty young when you started, then," he adds, eyeing Milani like he's defining her age in his head, as well as subtracting backwards. "Imagine you've picked up plenty, but in a place like this... always more to find out. And, presumably, things change a lot. No Lord in charge for, you know, his whole life."
"Fourteen-going-on-fifteen," Milani replies promptly. "You know, like most kids. Finish harper lessons, go Craft or get a job or Stand," she continues with a chuckle. "And I'm nineteen," she answers that look. "Had my birthday the night you guys Impressed actually." Her head bobs at his last set of statements. "Yeah. Weyrleader changes. A Weyrwoman can stick around for a long time, and sometimes a Weyrleader can stay stable, but not always. S'rist was Weyrleader for almost thirty turns, but we've had R'hin and N'thei since him."
"Similar age to when I left home, though," says K'del, bobbing his head as he speaks, though the way he says this makes it sound like a very long time ago. "Oh? Sorry we interrupted it, then. Belated happy Turnday." 'Thirty turns' evidently seems like a lot to him, because he looks quite impressed at that, though he says, only, "Can change at a moment's notice, I guess. Gotta be kind of disruptive."
It's a little late for the living caverns, but then, there aren't as many people wandering around at this hour, either. Tiriana's one of them. She heads down to the nighthearth to poke about, not noticing the people already there in favor of prodding the pot of stew simmering on the hearth. It's not, apparently, to her liking, because shortly she turns away, straightening up and then blinking as she spots Milani and K'del. "What are you doing?" she says.
"Pff, eggs are eggs. It makes for a good story. Rolling out of bed in the dead of night and all that. It was a good birthday in the end," Milani offers over with a smile and she nods about the Weyrleadership, then blinks, looks over at Tiriana as she inquires. "We're chilling out," she tells Tiriana straightforwardly.
"Some of us hadn't even /been/ to bed," remembers K'del, though he nods, returning Milani's smile. "Anyway, glad it was a good one. Guess we'll have no excuse to forget your turnday, in future, not unless we forget, like, the most important day of our lives." As Milani turns to look at Tiriana, so too does the weyrling, his expression turning more dubious as he regards her. Chiming in after the Assistant Headwoman, he remarks, "What does it look like?"
Maybe it's the idea of people there chilling out while she doesn't notice, maybe it's those particular people doing it. But Tiriana mostly looks confused, her brows furrowing up before she turns to edge away. Not that she goes far: she just flops down in one of the other chairs herself, feet pulled up there with her. "I was just asking," she answers with a sniff.
"Yeah, I kind of got that impression," Milani says with a laugh about the Candidates the night of the Hatching. "And there you go. I expect a present, right on time, next turn, right after these guys turn one," she says, laughing further. Tiriana's huffing earns raised brows. "You know, late enough that work is done and everything, early enough that we're not sleepy yet, or doing other things. Quiet things. Like that," she informs Tiriana with a tentative grin.
K'del, grinning, shrugs. "Tell a group of young people, most of whom are scared shitless, that they're probably going to be facing, like, the most important thing in their lives on a specific day, and then make them suffer through a whole day of it and still nothing - and don't expect them to just calmly, meekly, trundle off to sleep," he says, but he's more amused than anything. "Duly noted." Mock-serious, head bobbing. "What are /you/ doing?" he asks of Tiriana, challengingly, brows raised.
"Yeah, yeah. I know what it means," Tiriana says, pouting just a little as Milani elaborates. Sniffily, she crosses her arms and glances around the nighthearth rather than at the pair, though she's plainly still eavesdropping. After all, she points out, "Why should they remember /your/ birthday? I'd think that would pale in comparison to remembering their dragon." And a beat later, and smirkingly, she tells K'del, "I am chilling out."
"Well there's all kind of just chilling out, but that's the kind we were doing," Milani explains and then rolls her eyes. "That's called /teasing/," the assistant headwoman points out. "You know, humor? Of course I don't /actually/ expect them to remember," Millie says with a laugh that turns into another eye roll at Tiriana's next pronouncement.
"Tiriana, sweetheart," says K'del, shaking his head, clearly willing to risk damage to health and happiness for sake of the quip, "You never chill out - you're always prickly. Anyway," he adds, turning his head back to Milani, "Bet I will remember, now I know."
"I can too chill out," Tiriana protests, eyes narrowing at that more than at the pet name. "You wouldn't know what I'm like, really. Not in, like, the privacy of my own weyr or something." Glowering at K'del, she misses the eyerolling, if not the words. "Teasing, I know that. I can tease too." She hmphs.
"I bet /you/ will," Milani tells K'del, grinning over at the weyrling and that might almost be flirty. Almost. There's another look over at Tiriana and Millie sighs. "Then why jump all over me about it, hm?" But she's sliding to her feet, stepping back into her shoes. "Enjoy chilling out," she tells the other two, pauses by the edge of K'del's chair on the way by. "Let me know about that bonfire, okay?" And she gives him a little wave, Tiriana a polite nod and Millie strides on out, humming under her breath.
Milani goes home.
Milani has left.
K'del winks at Milani - whether or not she was being flirtatious, he probably is, though his nod, at her words, is more serious. He settles back in his chair, giving Tiriana an appraising look. "Perhaps I wouldn't. You never invited me in. Reckon you don't really invite anyone in, most of the time. Makes it hard for people to know, as you say, the 'real' you. But I still don't believe that you chill out."
"Bonfire?" That has Tiriana's attention, but Milani is leaving and Tiriana settles for a frown and a wave after her. Then, she slides down a little more in her chair, trying to look relaxed. Of course, trying only makes her look less so. "The only person I invite into my weyr is my weyrmate, so. I don't care if you know the real me or not--I do, and anyway, I was just saying I can too relax."
"I have a letter I may want to burn up," offers K'del, with a bob after Milani, very nicely explaining for Tiriana - whom he eyes, dubious, as she tries to relax. Disbelievingly, he shakes his head. "Shame, to let so few people know the real you, then. Must be kind of... lonely. And weird. Always pretending. Anyway, you can say all you like. Guess you just don't relax around people. Whatever. No real loss."
Tiriana scoffs, rolling her own eyes at K'del's answer. "It's not. I'm just fine," she answers, head shaking briefly. "And it's not pretending. Really. Like you just air everything out to everybody. --Whatever, it is too a loss. You want to get in my weyr." Nothing but confidence on that fact.
K'del is amused by Tiriana's scoffing, his shoulders shifting in half-suppressed laughter before he responds. "Not /everything/, but enough that people know who I am. Not some bitter, unhappy mask. Unless you really are that unhappy?" He gives her an appraising look, then shrugs: "Wouldn't kick you out of bed, but 'm not that desperate. Anyway. I'm a bronzerider. You're a goldrider. I'll probably end up in there at some point, anyway."
Tightening her mouth, Tiriana's efforts at relaxation are abandoned in favor of sitting up up a little straighter, glaring at him. "Oh, so now you're so concerned about my happiness, so thoughtful," she drawls. His latter remark, however, makes her drop her feet back to the floor, half-sliding off the chair. "You--you--I wouldn't sleep with you even if I /did/ bring home random men to sleep with. Which I don't. I have standards."
Hah. Hahaha. K'del positively /smirks/ at Tiriana's reaction, clearly taking far too much enjoyment out of this. "May not have a choice. Iovniath will - presumably - rise one of these days. Cadejoth's a bronze. Anyway," he adds, becoming, if anything, more relaxed from this conversation, his long legs stretched out into the space between his chair and those surrounding it, "I suppose it's not like you know what you're missing out on. Yet." He sounds confident that this is, in fact, a 'yet'.
"Iovniath has standards, too," and Tiriana sounds possibly even more confident in her dragon, her shoulders stiffening. "I can just imagine, though--nothing good. I mean, honestly. How old are you exactly? Like thirteen? Please. You don't know what /you're/ missing." And she nods once, sharply.
"She may not have a choice, either," points out K'del, very pleased with himself. "Not if Cadejoth's good enough to catch her before she wants to be caught. Which, by the way, he will be." His smile wilts a little at her insult, and now he straightens his shoulders, pushing himself taller. "Nearly sixteen. But age doesn't matter - I have /plenty/ of experience."
Just the thought of that is enough to make Tiriana laugh, though. "Nope, wrong again," she mocks. "Iovniath is /smart/. Like... wily-smart. Too smart for some dumb bronze to catch." As for his age, she affects only a faintly pitying look. "No fifteen-year-old has plenty of experience. You might figure that out, once you do--although I wouldn't be expecting /that/ anytime soon."
K'del has only eye-rolling disbelief for the idea of Iovniath being too smart for /his/ Cadejoth - he shakes his head, pauses, then shakes his head again, his expression turning as pitying as Tiriana's own. "Believe what you like, sweetheart, but I've had no complaints as yet, and more satisfied customers than you could shake a stick at. The girls of this weyr were most bereft, the day I Impressed and became off-limits. They're counting down, I tell you." His chest sort of puffs out as he says this; he does genuinely seem to believe it, though.
"You /are/ dumb," says Tiriana, with a sad, sad shake of her head. "If you think anybody was sad over you. The only people you could get with /that/ face--" she gestures vaguely at his "--are the Weyr whores, and they wouldn't give you a second thought once you're gone." And she smirks, crossing her arms back as if to say 'so there.'
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath's a cool, light touch, sweeping in around the edges of Cadejoth's mind as if called. Or really, perhaps she was. << So ambitious, so young, Cadejoth? >> she wonders.
K'del bristles, visibly, but only for a few seconds. Then, his face composes itself, and he just smiles at Tiriana. "No," he says. "You're dumb. Sad, too. As it happens, not everyone is as concerned by appearances as you are. Though I suppose your personality is so awful it's hard to like you for any other reason." His head shakes, he sighs. "My face'll clear up. Your personality will always be awful."
Dragon> At first: confusion. Then, a sudden comprehension, K'del's thoughts seeping in to Cadejoth's with the rippling clink of the finest of chains, binding the two. He's warm, fire and earth and metallic tang. << I don't know /exactly/, >> he admits, still too young to really grasp the ideas. << But I think I should like it. I should like to fly, anyway, and the thoughts-- >> K'del's? << are intriguing. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
"Girls are. I know girls," Tiriana shakes her head. For once, she's not the one getting rattled here, which only serves to make her more smug and confident. "But still. I'm already beautiful, and say what you will about /my/ personality, I still have somebody that loves me. You--well." Does she even have to finish? She doesn't think so, gives him a withering look instead.
Dragon> The warmth prompts Iovniath's touch to become downright cold, but still the wind that sweeps through is more gauged to fan the flame than blow it out. << No? You'll learn, perhaps in time. Intriguing, though--that is a start, at least. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"Not the kind of girls /I/ like," says K'del, shrugging his shoulders. This may be due to, well, circumstances, but he doesn't seem to let this phase him. "Yeah, sure. Loves you, maybe, but not enough to want to live with you. How often do you see him now, anyway?"
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth explores that cold, nudging at it with his earthen warmth, the clink of chains accompanying each of his probes. << Have you learned? K'del says-- >> He pauses, as if exploring this new-found nugget, then continues more certainly, though with definite curiousity, << You haven't risen yet. Why not? I'm young. I don't think I'm supposed to be more than intrigued, yet. That'll change. I don't like watching - I'd rather /do/. >>
All right, so maybe she is the one getting her chain pulled around after all. Tiriana's eyes narrow, and her voice grows clipped, words half-spat at the weyrling. "Every. Fucking. Night. We go back and forth. If he wasn't Weyrleader--but he has responsibilities. But you wouldn't understand about /those/."
"He still let himself be transferred to a different weyr. Didn't even consider coming with you, did he? When you got... kicked out. And if that's true, why aren't you there now? Or him here?" K'del positively smirks, straightening again, apparently rather enjoying having the upper hand. Well. Why wouldn't he? "Responsibilities? I imagine I understand them more than you. I never see you do anything more than, well, /loiter/."
Dragon> And in response, more chill, and Iovniath's mind is frosted glass, crackling with his prodding questions. << The time is not right yet. >> And a beat later, she sweeps soft snow across that harder surface, enough to muffle the clank of chains and cover over any sensitivity in her own mind. Carefully teasing, << You shouldn't press me, Cadejoth, or you might be relegated to only watching, not old enough to /do/. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"He did not let. There was no letting," snaps Tiriana, whose hands ball up. Her expression's hateful now, so quick to shift from gloating to something else entirely. "He went where he got made to, and I went where--where'd take me. And you should shut your damn mouth up, because you don't know a thing about it. /Weyrling/." Pulling rank, the last resort.
Dragon> Probably without meaning to, Cadejoth presses at that concealing snow, curiousity getting the better of him, though his touch is respectful, almost reverent. << When will it be right? Does that mean you intend for it to be-- or, expect it to be? -- some time, still? I won't be old enough to do for a while, I think. >> He's fuzzy on this, conferring back down that tiny chain to K'del to refresh his thought. << A long while. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
"If he really loved you, he'd've given up his rank to go with you. He would've /fought/." K'del insists this with - actually, less wide-eyed youth, and more malice. She really has gotten his goat up, though he's trying to hide that, not always succeeding. "'Where'd take you'. And how does that feel? Kicked out so soon. Barely past a weyrling yourself, weren't you?" His expression flicks just slightly at her use of his rank, but it doesn't seem to deter him - he leans forward, eager, spoiling for a fight.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath projects, << I'll know. >> She's confident, and even the plush cushion of snow leaves little room for argument on that fact. << Perhaps it will be a while, or perhaps not. What reason would I have, to wait for you? >> She's curious herself, little feelers of frost creeping toward him, reaching to climb up that chain on their own right. >>
Dragon> The chain is warm, not hot, but warm from within, and though some of those feelers melt, droplets sliding back towards Iovniath, some do not - and it chills, clinking more icily, a chilling clarity of sound. He accepts her confidence - she's a queen, and even from the lightest touch of his, it's obvious that this puts her in a certain place within her head, within his pack. But. << You'll have to find out. I'll fly well, though. I'll chase with everything. I'll-- >> Again, a thought from K'del, a fuzzy question mark connected to it. << Please you. But if you must fly before my time, then I will fly you another. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
Tiriana takes a very deep breath, struggling for composure or at least restraint, even if her mouths wants to twist into a snarl and her hands twitch to knock that smirk off his acne'd face. "To be honest, I'm pretty proud of it," she says. "Might've been stuck at Telgar forever otherwise. But instead--they handpicked me. N'thei and Satiet. They wanted me. /Me/. Not just got stuck with me because my dragon just happened to be on their sands."
K'del's quick with a come-back to this, too. Ooh, so into it. "You have to ask why, of course," he smirks at her. "Certainly isn't because you're useful. No doubt they have their reasons, of course, but..." He trails off, shrugs again. "One does have to wonder if they don't regret it."
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath's bemused now, with that explanation: her laughter's a softer thing, too, like white fur. << You please me. Or will, >> she says. << Your tenacity pleases me now. >>
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth's chains ripple with delight, chiming and jangling with a certain musicality. << I'm glad, >> he tells her, earnest, full of life. << I will keep pleasing you. I will try. >>
"Because." Some of Tiriana's arrogance returns in that simple word, just enough to let her get a handle on the worst of her temper. She still glares, but doesn't look /quite/ as likely to jump the chair and strangle him. "Because they saw something in me. Potential--N'thei said it himself. And I'm Satiet's project too because /she/ sees it."
Dragon> Pleasure suffuses the lingering touch of Iovniath's mind, and then the cold fades as she draws away, snow sublimating into fog that rolls away--or perhaps it's only steam, hailing from his warmth. She agrees, << Yes. You will. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"Wasted potential, at this point," scoffs K'del, head shaking as he drawns himself towards his feet, too gangly for it to be a graceful movement, though he does try to make it fluid. "Have you done /anything/ worthwhile since getting here? Haven't even provided them with more dragons! Oh well. Never mind, Tiriana. At least you're pretty!" And then he turns, only at the last minute remembering to pick up the letter in his seat; with this grasped, he heads out.
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth's own pleasure lingers, as he coils his chains away, watching after her departure with obvious affection and eager, puppy-like interest. << I will, I will, >> he agrees, as he, too, steps back. It's nearly bedtime, and his K'del is (finally!) coming back to him.
Tiriana clings to what pride she has at this point, though she jerks up to her own feet, body tense. "And some stupid weyrling is hardly qualified to judge that. Don't know a damn thing about what I do," she sniffs. But while he grabs up his letter and leaves, she stays right where she is, watching. It's not until he's gone that she gives his chair a couple of really hard kicks.
K'del has nothing else to say, though he certainly hears exactly what Tiriana says - he's made his decision to leave, and he'll stick by it. So what if she gets the last word?
When: Day 1, Month 2, Turn 18
Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr
What: Chilling out turns into not so much chilling out, except between Iovniath and Cadejoth.
Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr
With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life.
Contents:
K'del
Milani
Obvious exits:
Inner Caverns
"Yeah, plenty of people around to teach you," Milani agrees from the depths of one of the chairs right by the hearth, her legs hanging over the arm facing K'del who's sitting in the same position in the chair opposite. "Mm," Milani says with a little shrug and then she laughs. "I've only be an assistant for -- oh shells, it's coming up on five turns!" And she suddenly makes big eyes at K'del like she really didn't realize how much time had gone by.
"'Only'?" teases K'del, dropping the earlier topic for this one, laughing as he speaks. "Must've been pretty young when you started, then," he adds, eyeing Milani like he's defining her age in his head, as well as subtracting backwards. "Imagine you've picked up plenty, but in a place like this... always more to find out. And, presumably, things change a lot. No Lord in charge for, you know, his whole life."
"Fourteen-going-on-fifteen," Milani replies promptly. "You know, like most kids. Finish harper lessons, go Craft or get a job or Stand," she continues with a chuckle. "And I'm nineteen," she answers that look. "Had my birthday the night you guys Impressed actually." Her head bobs at his last set of statements. "Yeah. Weyrleader changes. A Weyrwoman can stick around for a long time, and sometimes a Weyrleader can stay stable, but not always. S'rist was Weyrleader for almost thirty turns, but we've had R'hin and N'thei since him."
"Similar age to when I left home, though," says K'del, bobbing his head as he speaks, though the way he says this makes it sound like a very long time ago. "Oh? Sorry we interrupted it, then. Belated happy Turnday." 'Thirty turns' evidently seems like a lot to him, because he looks quite impressed at that, though he says, only, "Can change at a moment's notice, I guess. Gotta be kind of disruptive."
It's a little late for the living caverns, but then, there aren't as many people wandering around at this hour, either. Tiriana's one of them. She heads down to the nighthearth to poke about, not noticing the people already there in favor of prodding the pot of stew simmering on the hearth. It's not, apparently, to her liking, because shortly she turns away, straightening up and then blinking as she spots Milani and K'del. "What are you doing?" she says.
"Pff, eggs are eggs. It makes for a good story. Rolling out of bed in the dead of night and all that. It was a good birthday in the end," Milani offers over with a smile and she nods about the Weyrleadership, then blinks, looks over at Tiriana as she inquires. "We're chilling out," she tells Tiriana straightforwardly.
"Some of us hadn't even /been/ to bed," remembers K'del, though he nods, returning Milani's smile. "Anyway, glad it was a good one. Guess we'll have no excuse to forget your turnday, in future, not unless we forget, like, the most important day of our lives." As Milani turns to look at Tiriana, so too does the weyrling, his expression turning more dubious as he regards her. Chiming in after the Assistant Headwoman, he remarks, "What does it look like?"
Maybe it's the idea of people there chilling out while she doesn't notice, maybe it's those particular people doing it. But Tiriana mostly looks confused, her brows furrowing up before she turns to edge away. Not that she goes far: she just flops down in one of the other chairs herself, feet pulled up there with her. "I was just asking," she answers with a sniff.
"Yeah, I kind of got that impression," Milani says with a laugh about the Candidates the night of the Hatching. "And there you go. I expect a present, right on time, next turn, right after these guys turn one," she says, laughing further. Tiriana's huffing earns raised brows. "You know, late enough that work is done and everything, early enough that we're not sleepy yet, or doing other things. Quiet things. Like that," she informs Tiriana with a tentative grin.
K'del, grinning, shrugs. "Tell a group of young people, most of whom are scared shitless, that they're probably going to be facing, like, the most important thing in their lives on a specific day, and then make them suffer through a whole day of it and still nothing - and don't expect them to just calmly, meekly, trundle off to sleep," he says, but he's more amused than anything. "Duly noted." Mock-serious, head bobbing. "What are /you/ doing?" he asks of Tiriana, challengingly, brows raised.
"Yeah, yeah. I know what it means," Tiriana says, pouting just a little as Milani elaborates. Sniffily, she crosses her arms and glances around the nighthearth rather than at the pair, though she's plainly still eavesdropping. After all, she points out, "Why should they remember /your/ birthday? I'd think that would pale in comparison to remembering their dragon." And a beat later, and smirkingly, she tells K'del, "I am chilling out."
"Well there's all kind of just chilling out, but that's the kind we were doing," Milani explains and then rolls her eyes. "That's called /teasing/," the assistant headwoman points out. "You know, humor? Of course I don't /actually/ expect them to remember," Millie says with a laugh that turns into another eye roll at Tiriana's next pronouncement.
"Tiriana, sweetheart," says K'del, shaking his head, clearly willing to risk damage to health and happiness for sake of the quip, "You never chill out - you're always prickly. Anyway," he adds, turning his head back to Milani, "Bet I will remember, now I know."
"I can too chill out," Tiriana protests, eyes narrowing at that more than at the pet name. "You wouldn't know what I'm like, really. Not in, like, the privacy of my own weyr or something." Glowering at K'del, she misses the eyerolling, if not the words. "Teasing, I know that. I can tease too." She hmphs.
"I bet /you/ will," Milani tells K'del, grinning over at the weyrling and that might almost be flirty. Almost. There's another look over at Tiriana and Millie sighs. "Then why jump all over me about it, hm?" But she's sliding to her feet, stepping back into her shoes. "Enjoy chilling out," she tells the other two, pauses by the edge of K'del's chair on the way by. "Let me know about that bonfire, okay?" And she gives him a little wave, Tiriana a polite nod and Millie strides on out, humming under her breath.
Milani goes home.
Milani has left.
K'del winks at Milani - whether or not she was being flirtatious, he probably is, though his nod, at her words, is more serious. He settles back in his chair, giving Tiriana an appraising look. "Perhaps I wouldn't. You never invited me in. Reckon you don't really invite anyone in, most of the time. Makes it hard for people to know, as you say, the 'real' you. But I still don't believe that you chill out."
"Bonfire?" That has Tiriana's attention, but Milani is leaving and Tiriana settles for a frown and a wave after her. Then, she slides down a little more in her chair, trying to look relaxed. Of course, trying only makes her look less so. "The only person I invite into my weyr is my weyrmate, so. I don't care if you know the real me or not--I do, and anyway, I was just saying I can too relax."
"I have a letter I may want to burn up," offers K'del, with a bob after Milani, very nicely explaining for Tiriana - whom he eyes, dubious, as she tries to relax. Disbelievingly, he shakes his head. "Shame, to let so few people know the real you, then. Must be kind of... lonely. And weird. Always pretending. Anyway, you can say all you like. Guess you just don't relax around people. Whatever. No real loss."
Tiriana scoffs, rolling her own eyes at K'del's answer. "It's not. I'm just fine," she answers, head shaking briefly. "And it's not pretending. Really. Like you just air everything out to everybody. --Whatever, it is too a loss. You want to get in my weyr." Nothing but confidence on that fact.
K'del is amused by Tiriana's scoffing, his shoulders shifting in half-suppressed laughter before he responds. "Not /everything/, but enough that people know who I am. Not some bitter, unhappy mask. Unless you really are that unhappy?" He gives her an appraising look, then shrugs: "Wouldn't kick you out of bed, but 'm not that desperate. Anyway. I'm a bronzerider. You're a goldrider. I'll probably end up in there at some point, anyway."
Tightening her mouth, Tiriana's efforts at relaxation are abandoned in favor of sitting up up a little straighter, glaring at him. "Oh, so now you're so concerned about my happiness, so thoughtful," she drawls. His latter remark, however, makes her drop her feet back to the floor, half-sliding off the chair. "You--you--I wouldn't sleep with you even if I /did/ bring home random men to sleep with. Which I don't. I have standards."
Hah. Hahaha. K'del positively /smirks/ at Tiriana's reaction, clearly taking far too much enjoyment out of this. "May not have a choice. Iovniath will - presumably - rise one of these days. Cadejoth's a bronze. Anyway," he adds, becoming, if anything, more relaxed from this conversation, his long legs stretched out into the space between his chair and those surrounding it, "I suppose it's not like you know what you're missing out on. Yet." He sounds confident that this is, in fact, a 'yet'.
"Iovniath has standards, too," and Tiriana sounds possibly even more confident in her dragon, her shoulders stiffening. "I can just imagine, though--nothing good. I mean, honestly. How old are you exactly? Like thirteen? Please. You don't know what /you're/ missing." And she nods once, sharply.
"She may not have a choice, either," points out K'del, very pleased with himself. "Not if Cadejoth's good enough to catch her before she wants to be caught. Which, by the way, he will be." His smile wilts a little at her insult, and now he straightens his shoulders, pushing himself taller. "Nearly sixteen. But age doesn't matter - I have /plenty/ of experience."
Just the thought of that is enough to make Tiriana laugh, though. "Nope, wrong again," she mocks. "Iovniath is /smart/. Like... wily-smart. Too smart for some dumb bronze to catch." As for his age, she affects only a faintly pitying look. "No fifteen-year-old has plenty of experience. You might figure that out, once you do--although I wouldn't be expecting /that/ anytime soon."
K'del has only eye-rolling disbelief for the idea of Iovniath being too smart for /his/ Cadejoth - he shakes his head, pauses, then shakes his head again, his expression turning as pitying as Tiriana's own. "Believe what you like, sweetheart, but I've had no complaints as yet, and more satisfied customers than you could shake a stick at. The girls of this weyr were most bereft, the day I Impressed and became off-limits. They're counting down, I tell you." His chest sort of puffs out as he says this; he does genuinely seem to believe it, though.
"You /are/ dumb," says Tiriana, with a sad, sad shake of her head. "If you think anybody was sad over you. The only people you could get with /that/ face--" she gestures vaguely at his "--are the Weyr whores, and they wouldn't give you a second thought once you're gone." And she smirks, crossing her arms back as if to say 'so there.'
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath's a cool, light touch, sweeping in around the edges of Cadejoth's mind as if called. Or really, perhaps she was. << So ambitious, so young, Cadejoth? >> she wonders.
K'del bristles, visibly, but only for a few seconds. Then, his face composes itself, and he just smiles at Tiriana. "No," he says. "You're dumb. Sad, too. As it happens, not everyone is as concerned by appearances as you are. Though I suppose your personality is so awful it's hard to like you for any other reason." His head shakes, he sighs. "My face'll clear up. Your personality will always be awful."
Dragon> At first: confusion. Then, a sudden comprehension, K'del's thoughts seeping in to Cadejoth's with the rippling clink of the finest of chains, binding the two. He's warm, fire and earth and metallic tang. << I don't know /exactly/, >> he admits, still too young to really grasp the ideas. << But I think I should like it. I should like to fly, anyway, and the thoughts-- >> K'del's? << are intriguing. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
"Girls are. I know girls," Tiriana shakes her head. For once, she's not the one getting rattled here, which only serves to make her more smug and confident. "But still. I'm already beautiful, and say what you will about /my/ personality, I still have somebody that loves me. You--well." Does she even have to finish? She doesn't think so, gives him a withering look instead.
Dragon> The warmth prompts Iovniath's touch to become downright cold, but still the wind that sweeps through is more gauged to fan the flame than blow it out. << No? You'll learn, perhaps in time. Intriguing, though--that is a start, at least. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"Not the kind of girls /I/ like," says K'del, shrugging his shoulders. This may be due to, well, circumstances, but he doesn't seem to let this phase him. "Yeah, sure. Loves you, maybe, but not enough to want to live with you. How often do you see him now, anyway?"
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth explores that cold, nudging at it with his earthen warmth, the clink of chains accompanying each of his probes. << Have you learned? K'del says-- >> He pauses, as if exploring this new-found nugget, then continues more certainly, though with definite curiousity, << You haven't risen yet. Why not? I'm young. I don't think I'm supposed to be more than intrigued, yet. That'll change. I don't like watching - I'd rather /do/. >>
All right, so maybe she is the one getting her chain pulled around after all. Tiriana's eyes narrow, and her voice grows clipped, words half-spat at the weyrling. "Every. Fucking. Night. We go back and forth. If he wasn't Weyrleader--but he has responsibilities. But you wouldn't understand about /those/."
"He still let himself be transferred to a different weyr. Didn't even consider coming with you, did he? When you got... kicked out. And if that's true, why aren't you there now? Or him here?" K'del positively smirks, straightening again, apparently rather enjoying having the upper hand. Well. Why wouldn't he? "Responsibilities? I imagine I understand them more than you. I never see you do anything more than, well, /loiter/."
Dragon> And in response, more chill, and Iovniath's mind is frosted glass, crackling with his prodding questions. << The time is not right yet. >> And a beat later, she sweeps soft snow across that harder surface, enough to muffle the clank of chains and cover over any sensitivity in her own mind. Carefully teasing, << You shouldn't press me, Cadejoth, or you might be relegated to only watching, not old enough to /do/. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"He did not let. There was no letting," snaps Tiriana, whose hands ball up. Her expression's hateful now, so quick to shift from gloating to something else entirely. "He went where he got made to, and I went where--where'd take me. And you should shut your damn mouth up, because you don't know a thing about it. /Weyrling/." Pulling rank, the last resort.
Dragon> Probably without meaning to, Cadejoth presses at that concealing snow, curiousity getting the better of him, though his touch is respectful, almost reverent. << When will it be right? Does that mean you intend for it to be-- or, expect it to be? -- some time, still? I won't be old enough to do for a while, I think. >> He's fuzzy on this, conferring back down that tiny chain to K'del to refresh his thought. << A long while. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
"If he really loved you, he'd've given up his rank to go with you. He would've /fought/." K'del insists this with - actually, less wide-eyed youth, and more malice. She really has gotten his goat up, though he's trying to hide that, not always succeeding. "'Where'd take you'. And how does that feel? Kicked out so soon. Barely past a weyrling yourself, weren't you?" His expression flicks just slightly at her use of his rank, but it doesn't seem to deter him - he leans forward, eager, spoiling for a fight.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath projects, << I'll know. >> She's confident, and even the plush cushion of snow leaves little room for argument on that fact. << Perhaps it will be a while, or perhaps not. What reason would I have, to wait for you? >> She's curious herself, little feelers of frost creeping toward him, reaching to climb up that chain on their own right. >>
Dragon> The chain is warm, not hot, but warm from within, and though some of those feelers melt, droplets sliding back towards Iovniath, some do not - and it chills, clinking more icily, a chilling clarity of sound. He accepts her confidence - she's a queen, and even from the lightest touch of his, it's obvious that this puts her in a certain place within her head, within his pack. But. << You'll have to find out. I'll fly well, though. I'll chase with everything. I'll-- >> Again, a thought from K'del, a fuzzy question mark connected to it. << Please you. But if you must fly before my time, then I will fly you another. >> (Cadejoth to Iovniath)
Tiriana takes a very deep breath, struggling for composure or at least restraint, even if her mouths wants to twist into a snarl and her hands twitch to knock that smirk off his acne'd face. "To be honest, I'm pretty proud of it," she says. "Might've been stuck at Telgar forever otherwise. But instead--they handpicked me. N'thei and Satiet. They wanted me. /Me/. Not just got stuck with me because my dragon just happened to be on their sands."
K'del's quick with a come-back to this, too. Ooh, so into it. "You have to ask why, of course," he smirks at her. "Certainly isn't because you're useful. No doubt they have their reasons, of course, but..." He trails off, shrugs again. "One does have to wonder if they don't regret it."
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Iovniath's bemused now, with that explanation: her laughter's a softer thing, too, like white fur. << You please me. Or will, >> she says. << Your tenacity pleases me now. >>
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth's chains ripple with delight, chiming and jangling with a certain musicality. << I'm glad, >> he tells her, earnest, full of life. << I will keep pleasing you. I will try. >>
"Because." Some of Tiriana's arrogance returns in that simple word, just enough to let her get a handle on the worst of her temper. She still glares, but doesn't look /quite/ as likely to jump the chair and strangle him. "Because they saw something in me. Potential--N'thei said it himself. And I'm Satiet's project too because /she/ sees it."
Dragon> Pleasure suffuses the lingering touch of Iovniath's mind, and then the cold fades as she draws away, snow sublimating into fog that rolls away--or perhaps it's only steam, hailing from his warmth. She agrees, << Yes. You will. >> (Iovniath to Cadejoth)
"Wasted potential, at this point," scoffs K'del, head shaking as he drawns himself towards his feet, too gangly for it to be a graceful movement, though he does try to make it fluid. "Have you done /anything/ worthwhile since getting here? Haven't even provided them with more dragons! Oh well. Never mind, Tiriana. At least you're pretty!" And then he turns, only at the last minute remembering to pick up the letter in his seat; with this grasped, he heads out.
Dragon> To Iovniath, Cadejoth's own pleasure lingers, as he coils his chains away, watching after her departure with obvious affection and eager, puppy-like interest. << I will, I will, >> he agrees, as he, too, steps back. It's nearly bedtime, and his K'del is (finally!) coming back to him.
Tiriana clings to what pride she has at this point, though she jerks up to her own feet, body tense. "And some stupid weyrling is hardly qualified to judge that. Don't know a damn thing about what I do," she sniffs. But while he grabs up his letter and leaves, she stays right where she is, watching. It's not until he's gone that she gives his chair a couple of really hard kicks.
K'del has nothing else to say, though he certainly hears exactly what Tiriana says - he's made his decision to leave, and he'll stick by it. So what if she gets the last word?