Home Again
The Who: Talien, Svodriyth and N'thei and Wyaeth
The What: Talien needs a reason to go see N'thei but is saved the effort when he comes home to find her snooping around in his Weyr.
The When: Day 6, month 11, Turn 13, of the Interval. It is a autumn evening.
Sunset Across the Lake Ledge
Broad and flat, this large ledge easily suits a bronze and the rare guest, though little room to spare. Slanting slightly downward so that any rain may spill over the unsheltered outcropping, the bumpy ledge has smooth grooves that travel like wagon wheel tracks from where the weyr entrance begins to the very edge, paths worn smooth by turns of wind and running water. In the stone between the inner weyr and the edge of the ledge, a small cavern has been dug as a cozy niche with quite the view, complete with a cushion and just enough room for a person-- two if they were really smooshed. The view from the ledge reveals this weyr's true treasure: A perfect sunset watching spot. The evening is clear, not a cloud to be seen, giving you a perfect view of the stars. while Timor sleeps in darkness though the smaller Belior closes its eye to dream. It is completely still, no winds blow and the fall air is warm enough, with only a slight chill.
Stepping inside, the weyr has been designed in two parts that curve in something like a half circle. The first part of the large room lays straight back from the ledge and holds a large and well-worn dragon couch. From here, the weyr wraps around, the inner depths shielded by the curving wall and added protection added in thick swathes of fabric that hang just beyond the dragon's couch to narrow the passage down to a more human size entrance that a dragon could still peer through. The inner furnishings are sparse but well-kept: Bed, desk, table, sofa, chair, rug, wardrobe, glowbaskets, etc.
Talien, being I'daur's lackey, has come to find the majority of her evening hours rather wide open. Or it might just be that they're made that way... in any instance, she happens upon N'thei's weyr with equal convenience at finding it empty. Svodriyth stomps at the ground with one foot and huffs with evident displeasure, though Talien pays him little to no mind as she slides down his side. Reaching back up, she loosens the slender cane affixed to the blue's straps before using it to aide her trek into the bronzerider's weyr. "Oh shush. He's not here and I'll be out in a second. Just... get out of view so no one sees you and keep watch, alright?" Svodriyth rumbles low and annoyed, though does as he's told - minus the hiding part, as it's quite hard for one to hide when one is on a ledge and keeping look-out.
Even harder when the ledge owner happens upon the ledge at that precise moment. Wyaeth *betweens* right near his ledge, just a brief glide from where he emerges to where he's set to land. His landing is delayed, however, when the bronze sights Svodriyth on his ledge, and he bristles visibly with a new tension in his wings; on his back, craning hard to see what's what, N'thei just manages to catch a glimpse of Talien going inside.
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth's tone is thick with accusation and possessiveness and warning; << What the hell're you doing on my ledge, runt? >>
Svodriyth definitely takes Wyaeth's sudden arrival as a sign that he'd been right, and rushes a silent warning to Talien while flattening himself against the wall. His manner imitates Wyaeth's, given he bristles with wings splayed and the lightest of growls offered as his greeting. Talien is quick to rush back out, her cane nowhere in sight, and by grace of Svodriyth's assistance manages to make it to his side without too terrible an incident. "I, um, I got lost." She explains with a beat red face, "Sorry 'bout that. But you know, can't rightly see and, well good to see you back and all." She tries a smile that's aimed just to the side of where N'thei sits atop Wyaeth.
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's reply is that of a hand swatting an annoying Vtol away. << Didn't figure you'd be needing it, >> Casual and easy-going, << Kinda a shame, really. >>
Wyaeth alights on his ledge, his heavy landing even more thumpy as he crouches low to issue another rumble of warning to Svodriyth. The moment the bronze lands, N'thei vaults to the ground with a voice of pure bemusement, a confused counterpoint to Wyaeth's possessive bristling. "You like badly, Talien, and just beg the question. What /are/ you doing here?" The pair must plan to stay, for N'thei starts unbuckling Wyaeth's straps in the fading dusk, the distinct rattle of buckles and swish of leather evident for Talien.
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth must be feeling his oats these days; << Whyn't you just move along then? I will be needing it, and I'll be needing it without you getting all up in my way. >>
"Maybe you're just a bad judge of character," Talien challenges while, with the bulk of Svodriyth's haunches hiding her efforts, shoving numerous somethings into the blue's pack. "I never lie." Her movements slow as the bronzerider's actions are heard, "Why are you taking his straps off? You're not staying, are you? Oh, geeze..." Talien's features fall and there's every bit of real sympathy there, "Hey, I'm sorry. It's their loss...kicking you out and all. Don't take it personally."
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's amusement flares bright and sharp. << Figure with me bein' a runt and all, and you with this big ol' ledge... you oughta have all the room in the world, pal. >>
"You never lie well, you said?" N'thei has an ear-cocked tone, and the jingle of buckles continues while he pauses to re-listen. Moving on; "I do live here. Has your memory gone already? Pity." And then there's the sound of metal scraping stone, leading to the inner weyr while N'thei carts the straps inside and drapes them over pegs in the wall untidily. "What are you really doing here, Talien?" he calls back to her. "Whatever it is, let's just get it over with while I'm still in a faintly good mood."
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth, who is not in even the remotest of good moods, smothers the amusement in a puff of dust and dislike. << Plenty of room, but none of it's for you. Piss off. >>
"I never lie at all." Talien dead-pans, and as it's a relatively straight forward and simple lie, it's somewhat believable. She chucks a fist against Svodriyth's haunches when he rumbles at Wyaeth, chiding, "It's his ledge, silly. Make nice, for once - tell him to make nice, please, N'thei?" Him being Wyaeth who Talien can't tell herself. Then, after a moment of pause, "I don't think you want to know the real answer to that. So just pretend you believe me when I said I got lost?" She's at the entranceway by then and is leaning against it with her head half tilted to the ground. A hesitant second offer soon follows her request. "Congratulations, too. Looks like you beat A'son to it."
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's still as smooth as steel even if he's not the happiest, either. << All that time away from us, >> he notes in a tsk-tsk manner, << Done ruined your manners. Baby girl says I gotta behave an' that means I gotta leave 'fore I get to misbehaving. >> He stretches out, still stiffly bristled with wings ajar and his eyes whirling red, makes for the ledge and takes off.
N'thei stops what he's doing, a sudden silence, and Talien is lucky not to be able to see the way those gray eyes fix upon her; "And you think I care about that. Interesting." He moves on then, steps rattling against stone, dimming across rugs, then there's the rustle of his jacket being removed and put away. "Why don't you try the real answer on me, and let me decide that for myself? You aren't lost. Confess. Drink?"
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth says nothing, but the good-riddance vibe clouds his thoughts visibly.
"Gee. I'm /real/ glad I didn't waste my time and try to go visit you over there. What crawled up your butt and died?" Talien takes the invite to drink as an invitation to come in, and does so at a slow pace by following the sounds he's making. "You always cared about that. You and Wyaeth both did... s'not a bad thing, just your thing. And yes. A big drink, if you will." A beat then, as she stops just short of him, "I was looking for something. I wanted... I was just looking for something. Are you staying here now, or will you go back there?"
N'thei never finds time to answer her first question. Instead, he pours the drinks with a little clink of glasses and tip of bottles, moves across the weyr to intercept Talien with a glass in hand for her. "A little of both. Can I expect to have you skulking around my weyr every time I get home?" Halting, he reaches one hand toward the bluerider, trying to guide catch hers and guide it to the glass he's all set to press there. Closer now, he smells cold and firestoney; "What are you doing here?" Persistent.
"Only if you promise me it'll make your life more miserable," Talien says, mock hopeful. Accepting the help in finding the glass, Talien takes a sizeable gulp from it, winces and then rather hoarsely states, "You stink." A hand finds his shoulder, more or less to orient what she seeks to do next which is facing her face to his. "I was stealing something so I could bring it to you at Fort. Y'know, to have a good reason to visit since I figured my real reason for visiting -- kicking you in the ass -- wasn't gonna win me any favors."
N'thei sniffs aloud, perhaps of himself or perhaps of the drink, which happens to be very sharp whisky, nothing smooth. "I know. It's supposed to be manly and intoxicating." The smell or the drink, he never clarifies. He arranges himself with Talien's hand for the orientation, flattening her palm with his hand until he's arranged toward her; she can't see him looming, but that's pretty much what it looks like, 6'4" to 5'1". "And theft would win you those favors, you think?" He sips, uncovers her hand, and asks with a grin in his voice, "Kick my ass why? What have I done to you today?"
"Naturally. You're you and not the brightest so you'd have bought my story with full thanks for my thoughtfulness in returning whatever it was I pulled out of your wardrobe." Talien drops her hand to her side, pressing her knuckles into her hip to pop her knuckles before taking another drink. Coughing immediately ensues, though Talien recovers soon enough, if still with that pinched tone. "Because you're just so stupid. Stupid. If there was a better word for it and I knew it, I'd use that... but you're just so sharding stupid." His feet are sure to wither from the angry scowl she's giving them.
N'thei sounds more confused than pestered, with the muffle of a glass pressed to his lower lip; "I never professed to be the brightest glow in the basket, but neither did I think was just so sharding stupid." He plays a little at parodying Talien's tone, adding a snicker of blatant amusement. "Why am I so stupid, Talien? I have to imagine it has something to do with Ciath, but please. Tell me." And then he just feathers his fingers toward her wrist, adding, "Come. Sit."
Talien makes a face as words fail her, and it's a most immature face which... really doesn't help her situation any. "Svodriyth doesn't like me swearing and figures if you had any sense, you'd not like it either." Rebuke delivered and clutching her glass, Talien moves at his direction and with explanation. "Because you had to go and chase and you had to go and win and one of these days you're going to go and chase and win and then you'll be gone." Rushed and in one rather long-winded breath, Talien hauls in another to add, "So if you really want to leave us all that much, just go and ask Satiet for a transfer or something." Talien nurses her woes with another sip of her drink.
N'thei sits Talien down first, all while she's talking, just a little pressure put to her shoulders once he's got her aligned with the sofa. Then he sits down opposite, scraping the chair across the floor till he's still facing Talien, still nursing his glass, still looming, but now doing it all from the comfort of a chair. "What?" Confusion is thick in his voice, filling the single question to the brim. "What are you talking about? A transfer where? Why?"
Talien draws her feet closer against the couch, hooking on heel over the instep of the other as he draws his chair closer. "A transfer 'cause you're going to end up gone one of these days," Talien explains, confidently and quite unreasonably.
"Wyaeth's - he's so stubborn, like you - and you both gotta just... this thing at Fort, you know it's not... every time a stupid gold goes up, you and him are gonna chase and one of these days you won't be coming back because it'll be some leadership flight in backwoods who knows where. 'least with A'son and the others, I know they're content to stay here." Blind trust, there. "Why aren't you?"
N'thei drinks again, the sound of the swallow the only real indicator, that and the whisky-smelling breath that leaves him afterward. As if cold and firestone smells weren't bad enough. He's slow to answer, slow to respond, thoughtful-seeming. "Talien, we chase because it can't be helped. Nikoth chased at Telgar, if you recall, and he would have chased at Fort if he'd been there. So... if I wanted to leave, I'd leave." He must be near the end of his glass by the time he speaks again, this time with more levity. "Your concern is touching though, I must confess. Unless this is just a backward attempt to get me to pack up and ship off?"
"Oh please. If you want to say you're like a dog then we oughta fix that right now. I think I felt a pair of scissors somewhere in your wardrobe." Talien sets her empty glass down and despite the veracity of her threat, doesn't rise to her feet. "And if I wanted you to leave, I'd tell you to shove off. Fact is I don't and I'm not gonna say that again, either." Hands fisted and pressed together, Talien pauses before saying, "You gotta go back though, and it's going to be a while 'fore those things hatch... but you'll be back, right?"
"Look, you're right that I feel no particular loyalty to High Reaches Weyr. I'm not going to live and die for it, but I'm not running from it either. Not yet. Your concern is misplaced." N'thei sighs in exhale, reaches out and collects Talien's glass. With both in one hand now, clinking together quietly, he moves away again, this time to rid himself of the drinks. "Why do you care so much? That's what I can't piece together. Would you be doing this to A'son?" Frankly, he sounds like this whole thing has been something of an imposition.
Talien's shoulders stiffen when N'thei makes the live and die comparison. There's even a notable lack of heat in her retort. "'Reaches be fortunate, then." A beat brings, "Why shouldn't I care? You're my friend... don't always think the best about you, but that doesn't mean I don't like you..." The implication of imposition is not missed either, and Talien makes to stand, "A'son'd know better or wouldn't make it seem like I'm bothering him... he'd know I was just doing it 'cause I cared about him and didn't want him to leave."
N'thei, having paused in time to notice the stiffened posture, lowers the glasses to the table and then rests his hands next to them, leaning on his palms at a distance he can really get a look at Talien. "I might have been touched if you hadn't jumped right in with the accusations. Your people-skills aren't exactly up to snuff, kid." Pushing away from the table, he comes back over to, once again, offer a hand toward Talien's arm for the guiding. With quiet confidence, "I'm not leaving yet, so please don't steal my stuff to try to get me to stay, all right?"
"I'm not a kid," Talien points out with all evidence still to the contrary, "And - you just left and I know you and I figured... figured you wouldn't be coming back 'cause you got what you wanted." His offer isn't yet shied from, and Talien at last has the presence of mind to subduedly thank him for it. The same quiet manner colors her offer of, "I was stealing your stuff so I could return it to you and yell at you for going away. There's a difference." Beat. "Can you promise me something and not just promise me to promise me, but promise me to mean it?"
Cautiously, like someone afraid of the answer, N'thei inquires, "What is it that you think I want?" If he weren't being careful about it, he might seem to be dragging Talien off with one big hand wrapped around her forearm, just below her elbow; but it's a surprisingly gentle persuasion rather than a downright dragging of the bluerider. "I won't promise to make any promises, but what?"
Talien stills, likely alerted by his caution just as much as his persuasion to reseat herself. And she does, fidgeting some before finally answering. "I told Izarit about you 'cause somehow we started talking about guys and I said you were a good guy and she seemed really interested and then I told her guys like you aren't interested in - you don't seem to be interested in girls like us. Her and me us and not.. not you and me us, but anyways, she's really nice and said she'd probably try and meet you sometime." A breath brings, "She's just not anything special." Such comes out rather awkwardly, so much so that it seems far easier for her to answer the later. "Anyways... I want you to promise me that if you ever do plan on leaving, tell me before you do. I promise I won't hit you, too."
N'thei sounds both amused and serious now, a levity behind the honesty in his voice. "My dear, the only person that I want, that I truly want, is well out of reach. Beyond that, it has nothing to do with 'guys like me' or 'girls like you.'" He must have gotten them so far as the edge of the weyr now, felt in the sudden bath of cold air that splashes in, the ice of the Reaches in late fall. "That's a promise I won't make, but I will promise to remember that you care. Fair enough?"
"You know, it's any wonder I do." Talien remarks, having quite suddenly grown bold enough to pull her arm from his. The cold air is likely her strength, for all that she's set and ready to follow it, "She seemed like a really nice girl, too, but it's too bad you're so... googly eyed over..." Svodriyth's approach and imminent landing is announced via a somber bugle - fair warning to Wyaeth that he's fixing to come in to retrieve his errant rider - "Anyways, sorry I stole stuff from you and yelled at you. Probably not going to be there to see his eggs hatch but tell'm I said good luck and you too."
In answer to his googly eyes, N'thei finds apology in his voice; "Some people just get under your skin and stay there. What can you do?" Talien could surely hear the rustle of a shrug if she cared to. He's stopped following now, stays near the entrance to the inner weyr with his arms crossed against the cold, with a quiet word to Wyaeth not to get all pissy because Svodriyth's coming back. The bronze growls, and he sits up straighter, but he doesn't kick up a fuss anywhere near his usual. "Apology accepted, and well-wishes appreciated. Next time, skip the stealing, and it might even count as a pleasant visit. I hate the saying, but clear skies, Talien."
"I can flatten them myself or hire someone to do it for me." Talien remarks, her tone strained with effort at remaining casual, "I'm broke, though, so you've got a few weeks 'fore anyone should come knocking." Svodriyth indeed lands and with an eye upon Talien to help her expedite her retreat, pays little to no mind to Wyaeth. She finds her way to his side and up it, though fumbles a little with fastening herself in. The pause gives her the ability to regain composure, and so it's with an airy chipperness that she says, "Hey, save the clear skies for the folks actually fighting in them. Rockless ground'll do just fine." A nudge of her knee to Svodriyth's shoulder signals the blue to leave, which he does without his usual aerial antics.
The What: Talien needs a reason to go see N'thei but is saved the effort when he comes home to find her snooping around in his Weyr.
The When: Day 6, month 11, Turn 13, of the Interval. It is a autumn evening.
Sunset Across the Lake Ledge
Broad and flat, this large ledge easily suits a bronze and the rare guest, though little room to spare. Slanting slightly downward so that any rain may spill over the unsheltered outcropping, the bumpy ledge has smooth grooves that travel like wagon wheel tracks from where the weyr entrance begins to the very edge, paths worn smooth by turns of wind and running water. In the stone between the inner weyr and the edge of the ledge, a small cavern has been dug as a cozy niche with quite the view, complete with a cushion and just enough room for a person-- two if they were really smooshed. The view from the ledge reveals this weyr's true treasure: A perfect sunset watching spot. The evening is clear, not a cloud to be seen, giving you a perfect view of the stars. while Timor sleeps in darkness though the smaller Belior closes its eye to dream. It is completely still, no winds blow and the fall air is warm enough, with only a slight chill.
Stepping inside, the weyr has been designed in two parts that curve in something like a half circle. The first part of the large room lays straight back from the ledge and holds a large and well-worn dragon couch. From here, the weyr wraps around, the inner depths shielded by the curving wall and added protection added in thick swathes of fabric that hang just beyond the dragon's couch to narrow the passage down to a more human size entrance that a dragon could still peer through. The inner furnishings are sparse but well-kept: Bed, desk, table, sofa, chair, rug, wardrobe, glowbaskets, etc.
Talien, being I'daur's lackey, has come to find the majority of her evening hours rather wide open. Or it might just be that they're made that way... in any instance, she happens upon N'thei's weyr with equal convenience at finding it empty. Svodriyth stomps at the ground with one foot and huffs with evident displeasure, though Talien pays him little to no mind as she slides down his side. Reaching back up, she loosens the slender cane affixed to the blue's straps before using it to aide her trek into the bronzerider's weyr. "Oh shush. He's not here and I'll be out in a second. Just... get out of view so no one sees you and keep watch, alright?" Svodriyth rumbles low and annoyed, though does as he's told - minus the hiding part, as it's quite hard for one to hide when one is on a ledge and keeping look-out.
Even harder when the ledge owner happens upon the ledge at that precise moment. Wyaeth *betweens* right near his ledge, just a brief glide from where he emerges to where he's set to land. His landing is delayed, however, when the bronze sights Svodriyth on his ledge, and he bristles visibly with a new tension in his wings; on his back, craning hard to see what's what, N'thei just manages to catch a glimpse of Talien going inside.
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth's tone is thick with accusation and possessiveness and warning; << What the hell're you doing on my ledge, runt? >>
Svodriyth definitely takes Wyaeth's sudden arrival as a sign that he'd been right, and rushes a silent warning to Talien while flattening himself against the wall. His manner imitates Wyaeth's, given he bristles with wings splayed and the lightest of growls offered as his greeting. Talien is quick to rush back out, her cane nowhere in sight, and by grace of Svodriyth's assistance manages to make it to his side without too terrible an incident. "I, um, I got lost." She explains with a beat red face, "Sorry 'bout that. But you know, can't rightly see and, well good to see you back and all." She tries a smile that's aimed just to the side of where N'thei sits atop Wyaeth.
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's reply is that of a hand swatting an annoying Vtol away. << Didn't figure you'd be needing it, >> Casual and easy-going, << Kinda a shame, really. >>
Wyaeth alights on his ledge, his heavy landing even more thumpy as he crouches low to issue another rumble of warning to Svodriyth. The moment the bronze lands, N'thei vaults to the ground with a voice of pure bemusement, a confused counterpoint to Wyaeth's possessive bristling. "You like badly, Talien, and just beg the question. What /are/ you doing here?" The pair must plan to stay, for N'thei starts unbuckling Wyaeth's straps in the fading dusk, the distinct rattle of buckles and swish of leather evident for Talien.
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth must be feeling his oats these days; << Whyn't you just move along then? I will be needing it, and I'll be needing it without you getting all up in my way. >>
"Maybe you're just a bad judge of character," Talien challenges while, with the bulk of Svodriyth's haunches hiding her efforts, shoving numerous somethings into the blue's pack. "I never lie." Her movements slow as the bronzerider's actions are heard, "Why are you taking his straps off? You're not staying, are you? Oh, geeze..." Talien's features fall and there's every bit of real sympathy there, "Hey, I'm sorry. It's their loss...kicking you out and all. Don't take it personally."
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's amusement flares bright and sharp. << Figure with me bein' a runt and all, and you with this big ol' ledge... you oughta have all the room in the world, pal. >>
"You never lie well, you said?" N'thei has an ear-cocked tone, and the jingle of buckles continues while he pauses to re-listen. Moving on; "I do live here. Has your memory gone already? Pity." And then there's the sound of metal scraping stone, leading to the inner weyr while N'thei carts the straps inside and drapes them over pegs in the wall untidily. "What are you really doing here, Talien?" he calls back to her. "Whatever it is, let's just get it over with while I'm still in a faintly good mood."
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth, who is not in even the remotest of good moods, smothers the amusement in a puff of dust and dislike. << Plenty of room, but none of it's for you. Piss off. >>
"I never lie at all." Talien dead-pans, and as it's a relatively straight forward and simple lie, it's somewhat believable. She chucks a fist against Svodriyth's haunches when he rumbles at Wyaeth, chiding, "It's his ledge, silly. Make nice, for once - tell him to make nice, please, N'thei?" Him being Wyaeth who Talien can't tell herself. Then, after a moment of pause, "I don't think you want to know the real answer to that. So just pretend you believe me when I said I got lost?" She's at the entranceway by then and is leaning against it with her head half tilted to the ground. A hesitant second offer soon follows her request. "Congratulations, too. Looks like you beat A'son to it."
Svodriyth> Wyaeth senses that Svodriyth's still as smooth as steel even if he's not the happiest, either. << All that time away from us, >> he notes in a tsk-tsk manner, << Done ruined your manners. Baby girl says I gotta behave an' that means I gotta leave 'fore I get to misbehaving. >> He stretches out, still stiffly bristled with wings ajar and his eyes whirling red, makes for the ledge and takes off.
N'thei stops what he's doing, a sudden silence, and Talien is lucky not to be able to see the way those gray eyes fix upon her; "And you think I care about that. Interesting." He moves on then, steps rattling against stone, dimming across rugs, then there's the rustle of his jacket being removed and put away. "Why don't you try the real answer on me, and let me decide that for myself? You aren't lost. Confess. Drink?"
Dragon> Svodriyth senses that Wyaeth says nothing, but the good-riddance vibe clouds his thoughts visibly.
"Gee. I'm /real/ glad I didn't waste my time and try to go visit you over there. What crawled up your butt and died?" Talien takes the invite to drink as an invitation to come in, and does so at a slow pace by following the sounds he's making. "You always cared about that. You and Wyaeth both did... s'not a bad thing, just your thing. And yes. A big drink, if you will." A beat then, as she stops just short of him, "I was looking for something. I wanted... I was just looking for something. Are you staying here now, or will you go back there?"
N'thei never finds time to answer her first question. Instead, he pours the drinks with a little clink of glasses and tip of bottles, moves across the weyr to intercept Talien with a glass in hand for her. "A little of both. Can I expect to have you skulking around my weyr every time I get home?" Halting, he reaches one hand toward the bluerider, trying to guide catch hers and guide it to the glass he's all set to press there. Closer now, he smells cold and firestoney; "What are you doing here?" Persistent.
"Only if you promise me it'll make your life more miserable," Talien says, mock hopeful. Accepting the help in finding the glass, Talien takes a sizeable gulp from it, winces and then rather hoarsely states, "You stink." A hand finds his shoulder, more or less to orient what she seeks to do next which is facing her face to his. "I was stealing something so I could bring it to you at Fort. Y'know, to have a good reason to visit since I figured my real reason for visiting -- kicking you in the ass -- wasn't gonna win me any favors."
N'thei sniffs aloud, perhaps of himself or perhaps of the drink, which happens to be very sharp whisky, nothing smooth. "I know. It's supposed to be manly and intoxicating." The smell or the drink, he never clarifies. He arranges himself with Talien's hand for the orientation, flattening her palm with his hand until he's arranged toward her; she can't see him looming, but that's pretty much what it looks like, 6'4" to 5'1". "And theft would win you those favors, you think?" He sips, uncovers her hand, and asks with a grin in his voice, "Kick my ass why? What have I done to you today?"
"Naturally. You're you and not the brightest so you'd have bought my story with full thanks for my thoughtfulness in returning whatever it was I pulled out of your wardrobe." Talien drops her hand to her side, pressing her knuckles into her hip to pop her knuckles before taking another drink. Coughing immediately ensues, though Talien recovers soon enough, if still with that pinched tone. "Because you're just so stupid. Stupid. If there was a better word for it and I knew it, I'd use that... but you're just so sharding stupid." His feet are sure to wither from the angry scowl she's giving them.
N'thei sounds more confused than pestered, with the muffle of a glass pressed to his lower lip; "I never professed to be the brightest glow in the basket, but neither did I think was just so sharding stupid." He plays a little at parodying Talien's tone, adding a snicker of blatant amusement. "Why am I so stupid, Talien? I have to imagine it has something to do with Ciath, but please. Tell me." And then he just feathers his fingers toward her wrist, adding, "Come. Sit."
Talien makes a face as words fail her, and it's a most immature face which... really doesn't help her situation any. "Svodriyth doesn't like me swearing and figures if you had any sense, you'd not like it either." Rebuke delivered and clutching her glass, Talien moves at his direction and with explanation. "Because you had to go and chase and you had to go and win and one of these days you're going to go and chase and win and then you'll be gone." Rushed and in one rather long-winded breath, Talien hauls in another to add, "So if you really want to leave us all that much, just go and ask Satiet for a transfer or something." Talien nurses her woes with another sip of her drink.
N'thei sits Talien down first, all while she's talking, just a little pressure put to her shoulders once he's got her aligned with the sofa. Then he sits down opposite, scraping the chair across the floor till he's still facing Talien, still nursing his glass, still looming, but now doing it all from the comfort of a chair. "What?" Confusion is thick in his voice, filling the single question to the brim. "What are you talking about? A transfer where? Why?"
Talien draws her feet closer against the couch, hooking on heel over the instep of the other as he draws his chair closer. "A transfer 'cause you're going to end up gone one of these days," Talien explains, confidently and quite unreasonably.
"Wyaeth's - he's so stubborn, like you - and you both gotta just... this thing at Fort, you know it's not... every time a stupid gold goes up, you and him are gonna chase and one of these days you won't be coming back because it'll be some leadership flight in backwoods who knows where. 'least with A'son and the others, I know they're content to stay here." Blind trust, there. "Why aren't you?"
N'thei drinks again, the sound of the swallow the only real indicator, that and the whisky-smelling breath that leaves him afterward. As if cold and firestone smells weren't bad enough. He's slow to answer, slow to respond, thoughtful-seeming. "Talien, we chase because it can't be helped. Nikoth chased at Telgar, if you recall, and he would have chased at Fort if he'd been there. So... if I wanted to leave, I'd leave." He must be near the end of his glass by the time he speaks again, this time with more levity. "Your concern is touching though, I must confess. Unless this is just a backward attempt to get me to pack up and ship off?"
"Oh please. If you want to say you're like a dog then we oughta fix that right now. I think I felt a pair of scissors somewhere in your wardrobe." Talien sets her empty glass down and despite the veracity of her threat, doesn't rise to her feet. "And if I wanted you to leave, I'd tell you to shove off. Fact is I don't and I'm not gonna say that again, either." Hands fisted and pressed together, Talien pauses before saying, "You gotta go back though, and it's going to be a while 'fore those things hatch... but you'll be back, right?"
"Look, you're right that I feel no particular loyalty to High Reaches Weyr. I'm not going to live and die for it, but I'm not running from it either. Not yet. Your concern is misplaced." N'thei sighs in exhale, reaches out and collects Talien's glass. With both in one hand now, clinking together quietly, he moves away again, this time to rid himself of the drinks. "Why do you care so much? That's what I can't piece together. Would you be doing this to A'son?" Frankly, he sounds like this whole thing has been something of an imposition.
Talien's shoulders stiffen when N'thei makes the live and die comparison. There's even a notable lack of heat in her retort. "'Reaches be fortunate, then." A beat brings, "Why shouldn't I care? You're my friend... don't always think the best about you, but that doesn't mean I don't like you..." The implication of imposition is not missed either, and Talien makes to stand, "A'son'd know better or wouldn't make it seem like I'm bothering him... he'd know I was just doing it 'cause I cared about him and didn't want him to leave."
N'thei, having paused in time to notice the stiffened posture, lowers the glasses to the table and then rests his hands next to them, leaning on his palms at a distance he can really get a look at Talien. "I might have been touched if you hadn't jumped right in with the accusations. Your people-skills aren't exactly up to snuff, kid." Pushing away from the table, he comes back over to, once again, offer a hand toward Talien's arm for the guiding. With quiet confidence, "I'm not leaving yet, so please don't steal my stuff to try to get me to stay, all right?"
"I'm not a kid," Talien points out with all evidence still to the contrary, "And - you just left and I know you and I figured... figured you wouldn't be coming back 'cause you got what you wanted." His offer isn't yet shied from, and Talien at last has the presence of mind to subduedly thank him for it. The same quiet manner colors her offer of, "I was stealing your stuff so I could return it to you and yell at you for going away. There's a difference." Beat. "Can you promise me something and not just promise me to promise me, but promise me to mean it?"
Cautiously, like someone afraid of the answer, N'thei inquires, "What is it that you think I want?" If he weren't being careful about it, he might seem to be dragging Talien off with one big hand wrapped around her forearm, just below her elbow; but it's a surprisingly gentle persuasion rather than a downright dragging of the bluerider. "I won't promise to make any promises, but what?"
Talien stills, likely alerted by his caution just as much as his persuasion to reseat herself. And she does, fidgeting some before finally answering. "I told Izarit about you 'cause somehow we started talking about guys and I said you were a good guy and she seemed really interested and then I told her guys like you aren't interested in - you don't seem to be interested in girls like us. Her and me us and not.. not you and me us, but anyways, she's really nice and said she'd probably try and meet you sometime." A breath brings, "She's just not anything special." Such comes out rather awkwardly, so much so that it seems far easier for her to answer the later. "Anyways... I want you to promise me that if you ever do plan on leaving, tell me before you do. I promise I won't hit you, too."
N'thei sounds both amused and serious now, a levity behind the honesty in his voice. "My dear, the only person that I want, that I truly want, is well out of reach. Beyond that, it has nothing to do with 'guys like me' or 'girls like you.'" He must have gotten them so far as the edge of the weyr now, felt in the sudden bath of cold air that splashes in, the ice of the Reaches in late fall. "That's a promise I won't make, but I will promise to remember that you care. Fair enough?"
"You know, it's any wonder I do." Talien remarks, having quite suddenly grown bold enough to pull her arm from his. The cold air is likely her strength, for all that she's set and ready to follow it, "She seemed like a really nice girl, too, but it's too bad you're so... googly eyed over..." Svodriyth's approach and imminent landing is announced via a somber bugle - fair warning to Wyaeth that he's fixing to come in to retrieve his errant rider - "Anyways, sorry I stole stuff from you and yelled at you. Probably not going to be there to see his eggs hatch but tell'm I said good luck and you too."
In answer to his googly eyes, N'thei finds apology in his voice; "Some people just get under your skin and stay there. What can you do?" Talien could surely hear the rustle of a shrug if she cared to. He's stopped following now, stays near the entrance to the inner weyr with his arms crossed against the cold, with a quiet word to Wyaeth not to get all pissy because Svodriyth's coming back. The bronze growls, and he sits up straighter, but he doesn't kick up a fuss anywhere near his usual. "Apology accepted, and well-wishes appreciated. Next time, skip the stealing, and it might even count as a pleasant visit. I hate the saying, but clear skies, Talien."
"I can flatten them myself or hire someone to do it for me." Talien remarks, her tone strained with effort at remaining casual, "I'm broke, though, so you've got a few weeks 'fore anyone should come knocking." Svodriyth indeed lands and with an eye upon Talien to help her expedite her retreat, pays little to no mind to Wyaeth. She finds her way to his side and up it, though fumbles a little with fastening herself in. The pause gives her the ability to regain composure, and so it's with an airy chipperness that she says, "Hey, save the clear skies for the folks actually fighting in them. Rockless ground'll do just fine." A nudge of her knee to Svodriyth's shoulder signals the blue to leave, which he does without his usual aerial antics.