Backlog
Who: S'vos, Essdara
Where: Bowl, HRW
Comment: Dara meats S'vos, who is weird
Essdara is sitting on a wide and flat rock near the edge of the water. By the wear marks on the stone, it's clearly a weyr favourite for people who want to enjoy sitting by the lake, though in the day's weather that's only Dara. Her eyes are shadowed and her mouth sports a sad frown as she all-but glares at the water.
Softly drifting, ever lilting, sounds of strings being bent to the will of one drift over the water as it shudders beneath a soft sheet of ice. Patchy, in places, yon watery front glistens through, sloshing over onto shore, kissing stone, caressing frosted shores. Warm breath filters through the gloom of the day, the hazy gray clouds hugging so tight to the bowl floor. A rumble sounds directly behind the girl wot sits upon rock face. A big rumble. That which comes from those who lurk in the sky at night, past sunset's glow. A big, scarred brown head has placed itself near her, and large forearms with gigantic, taloned paws encircle the stone she sits upon. The musician, wind pushing back his curtain of fog, stands several yards away, a stringed instrument strummed, and a voice drawn out in vowels toying with the tune. To her, at least, he may look familiar. S'vos. And the terrible warrior now protecting the girl could only be Daenomaketh.
Essdara is startled, to say the least, as the brown dragon wraps himself around her perch. A confused look from brown, to the rider with the music, and back. "S'vos? Ummm. What's he doing?" She looks down, turning slowly around to examine the hugged rock, and finally stopping looking once more at the rider. "I haven't seen you since before Turn's End. You, umm, settling in ok?" Small talk, shield of the confused.
Completely oblivious to whatever fear he may be instilling, the brown coils himself further, head coming down to rest closer to her, hot breath springing from nostrils to encompass her. It's cold, afterall. Nothing beats that better than a dragonbreath heater. He rumbles again, gaze focusing on one of her hands. "He wishes that you would pet him. He enjoys pretty girls' attentions. Of the two of us, he is more likely to get a date than I am, I fear." The man says, his hands still plunking away methodically at the instrument grasped with greatest care and grandest execution. "I am. Though as far as settling goes, you look dramatically unsettled. Tell old Vossy what troubles you?" He offers, soft brown eyes turned to her with an almost brotherly concern glittering in their earthen depths.
Essdara is not one to neglect a dragon, especially when held hostage, and reaches out slowly towards the brown head, fingers scritching at his skin with practiced skill. "Other than being claimed by a dragon? It's just... It's been a long night, that's all. I... Don't know that I can really talk about it, though..."
"Then sing." S'vos says. He is vastly removed from the original image of himself. It seems with an instrument in hand, the man who is really no more than a boy in age, is wise, is calm, is. Is everything that he can possibly be. And on the music spins, weaving images in the mind and playing havoc with the fog every time his maw opens, exuding softly flowing sounds that harmonize. "Join me. Open your lungs and say 'haw' and make it as pretty as you are." He closes his eyes, his own lips closed for the moment. The large brown rumbles in a purr as the hand does as wished, eyes lidding faintly.
Essdara blushes, but the compliment elicits a frown more than approval. "The last thing I need just, S'vos, is another person telling me how pretty and nice I am, S'vos. And I fear, were I to sing, your weyrmate would go between in fright. My voice is, alas, horrific when it comes to carrying a tune." She focuses on the dragon, rubbing at his eyeridges briskly. "I've been very stupid, and very cruel, that's all." She admits.
"I said nothing about being nice. And if a man with a large, horrific dragon says your pretty, it's generally a wise decision to nod and accept it." The man says, stepping past the girl to stare out at the lake again. His fingers are a blur as the pull a sad melody from the instrument. Coaxing it out into the air, he turns once more, to her. "Everyone is stupid and cruel now and then. However, not everyone sits at the edge of a near frozen lake to think about it. This must mean you regret. And to regret means that you are sorry, humbled by your actions and wish to make amends. Is this foolish to assume?" The dragon grunts afterwards, as if to say his rider makes some sense. This time.
Essdara looks over at him, and her eyes grow sad. "There is no amends, not truly. No matter what I do, I deeply hurt someone. People who do not, in any way, deserve to be hurt." She kneels down on the rock, almost hiding behind the brown head she reaches up towards. "All because I don't know the concept of restraint."
Nodding softly, the brownrider turns his churned earth gaze out over the scape before them. "Matters of the heart. Very difficult. Though we live in a strange state of things, you know. The heart and the body are in two separate places, more often than not. Where our bodies lie, and where our hearts rest are two very different things to consider. It is an understanding that must be reached, eventually." S'vos intones. The dragon opens one eye, the soft teal that signals this particular dragon's utmost calm whirls towards the girl now so close to him. Rumble, says he. "He believes that if you hug his nose you will feel better."
Essdara doesn't look like she agrees with the dragon, but also doesn't look like she's about to risk his ire by refusing. "That is an understanding I have long been aware of. But that does not, unfortunately, mean that the people around me will understand so much. And sometimes... The heart doesn't know where it wants to be any more than the body does."
"The body always knows. The heart is the one that is unsure." S'vos explains, crescendo'ing with a softness reserved for handling infants. He finally focuses more on the conversation though his hands continue to play. "How do you think you have been stupid and cruel, if you do not mind my asking?" Daenomaketh makes point to tilt his broad nose toward her.
Essdara nestles against the brown's snout. "The body can shut it's mouth." She says, a bit bitterly. "It gets me in enough trouble as it is." A sigh. "I... Let someone care about me too much, when I am not free to return it. And now she is very hurt, as is the person I /do/ care for."
Seating himself upon a stony face, the man leans towards Dara and whispers. "That is why you must care for everyone. Differently, of course, but care, nonetheless." A hand disappears into his jacket pockets and he pulls out a ripe red fruit and offers it to the girl. "From sunny places. Might brighten that disposition today."
Essdara looks at the fruit for a moment, and sighs, shaking her head. "It would be wasted on me just now, but thank you." She sits down heavily next to him. "I care for them both, differently. But they both want the same thing, they both want me to love them."
"Then love them." The man says with no hesitation what so ever. "It has been my philosophy to love every living being to some extent or the next. There is always something about the people you are around to find enjoyable. You, for instance." S'vos says softly, amber gaze sifting sideways. "I love you because you are young, but very wise. You know a great deal and you try to help everyone, no matter their status or their trouble. That takes great courage."
Essdara makes a face, "I can't, and you know that. I don't mean friendship love, though I surely have that for them both. I mean... The love where you want to be with them, all the time. Where you want to make them happy, at all costs. Where when they are sick, you want nothing more than to be there to hold her hair clear... They both deserve that, and neiter should have to share, even were they so inclined."
"They ask too much of you." S'vos says softly. "You must let them know that you are one person and cannot truly love either of them if they continue to desire all of you to themselves." He leans back, Daenomaketh's neck right there providing the perfect back rest. "But you, first, must decide. Is one more deserving over the other, or might it be better if you loved, beyond friendship, neither of them in order to show them your affections are not to be taken lightly?"
Essdara frowns. "You have it wrong. Neither is demanding anything of me, S'vos. Sy.. One simply turns away, hurt beyond words, and the other accepts me for who I am... As long as it's only my body I listen to." She looks over at him, a bit confused. "Why am I even telling you this?"
That gaze of brass considers the girl a moment, and then the lips beneath it smile with great compassion. "It is often those we don't know best who are able to help us piece out that which troubles us. Concern, yes. I feel it for you. However, I am not so wrapped up in the life you live that I can't see what goes on from an outsider's standpoint." He lets his face point out to the lake. "Before you can find forgiveness with either, I'm afraid you must first decide which path you want to take."
"I /know/ that!" Dara snaps, frustrated. "It's... Not that easy. I don't know that I can. It's like... It's like asking, which do I like more, Klah, or Baklava? Sure, they are both tasty, and both of them are wonderful, but they are /different/ and I can't compare them, let alone choose."
"Then deny both." The man says softly, unaffected by the sudden outburst of young, female rage. "Or choose both. Let the klah be ignorant of the baklava. Or, sit them at the same table and explain that both are to your liking." He rests his head back against the heavy brown hide of the dragon.
Essdara sighs. "S'vos, that's not possible. Not with them. That much, I am very clear on." She shakes her head. "This is going in circles, I think. I'm not sure I'm not more confused now that when you got here."
S'vos stands slowly, bowing low. The strings have stopped moving. "Then I cry your pardon. I will be off, now." Genuine apology, minus the drama of feeling guilty for too long. The brown raises his head, pointing it out to the rest of the atmosphere. "You could, like I mentioned earlier, choose neither." He says before scaling the beast's shoulder to settle in the straps. "That way neither one feels depreciated over the other. What do you value most; their touch, or their friendships?"
Essdara looks at him with a frown. "I don't know. I don't think I am that strong." She looks bacj out to the water then. "Clear skies, S'vos. Thank you for trying to help."
"Thank you for singing." The man says. The great earthly beast gives a lurch and vaults high above the ground.
Where: Bowl, HRW
Comment: Dara meats S'vos, who is weird
Essdara is sitting on a wide and flat rock near the edge of the water. By the wear marks on the stone, it's clearly a weyr favourite for people who want to enjoy sitting by the lake, though in the day's weather that's only Dara. Her eyes are shadowed and her mouth sports a sad frown as she all-but glares at the water.
Softly drifting, ever lilting, sounds of strings being bent to the will of one drift over the water as it shudders beneath a soft sheet of ice. Patchy, in places, yon watery front glistens through, sloshing over onto shore, kissing stone, caressing frosted shores. Warm breath filters through the gloom of the day, the hazy gray clouds hugging so tight to the bowl floor. A rumble sounds directly behind the girl wot sits upon rock face. A big rumble. That which comes from those who lurk in the sky at night, past sunset's glow. A big, scarred brown head has placed itself near her, and large forearms with gigantic, taloned paws encircle the stone she sits upon. The musician, wind pushing back his curtain of fog, stands several yards away, a stringed instrument strummed, and a voice drawn out in vowels toying with the tune. To her, at least, he may look familiar. S'vos. And the terrible warrior now protecting the girl could only be Daenomaketh.
Essdara is startled, to say the least, as the brown dragon wraps himself around her perch. A confused look from brown, to the rider with the music, and back. "S'vos? Ummm. What's he doing?" She looks down, turning slowly around to examine the hugged rock, and finally stopping looking once more at the rider. "I haven't seen you since before Turn's End. You, umm, settling in ok?" Small talk, shield of the confused.
Completely oblivious to whatever fear he may be instilling, the brown coils himself further, head coming down to rest closer to her, hot breath springing from nostrils to encompass her. It's cold, afterall. Nothing beats that better than a dragonbreath heater. He rumbles again, gaze focusing on one of her hands. "He wishes that you would pet him. He enjoys pretty girls' attentions. Of the two of us, he is more likely to get a date than I am, I fear." The man says, his hands still plunking away methodically at the instrument grasped with greatest care and grandest execution. "I am. Though as far as settling goes, you look dramatically unsettled. Tell old Vossy what troubles you?" He offers, soft brown eyes turned to her with an almost brotherly concern glittering in their earthen depths.
Essdara is not one to neglect a dragon, especially when held hostage, and reaches out slowly towards the brown head, fingers scritching at his skin with practiced skill. "Other than being claimed by a dragon? It's just... It's been a long night, that's all. I... Don't know that I can really talk about it, though..."
"Then sing." S'vos says. He is vastly removed from the original image of himself. It seems with an instrument in hand, the man who is really no more than a boy in age, is wise, is calm, is. Is everything that he can possibly be. And on the music spins, weaving images in the mind and playing havoc with the fog every time his maw opens, exuding softly flowing sounds that harmonize. "Join me. Open your lungs and say 'haw' and make it as pretty as you are." He closes his eyes, his own lips closed for the moment. The large brown rumbles in a purr as the hand does as wished, eyes lidding faintly.
Essdara blushes, but the compliment elicits a frown more than approval. "The last thing I need just, S'vos, is another person telling me how pretty and nice I am, S'vos. And I fear, were I to sing, your weyrmate would go between in fright. My voice is, alas, horrific when it comes to carrying a tune." She focuses on the dragon, rubbing at his eyeridges briskly. "I've been very stupid, and very cruel, that's all." She admits.
"I said nothing about being nice. And if a man with a large, horrific dragon says your pretty, it's generally a wise decision to nod and accept it." The man says, stepping past the girl to stare out at the lake again. His fingers are a blur as the pull a sad melody from the instrument. Coaxing it out into the air, he turns once more, to her. "Everyone is stupid and cruel now and then. However, not everyone sits at the edge of a near frozen lake to think about it. This must mean you regret. And to regret means that you are sorry, humbled by your actions and wish to make amends. Is this foolish to assume?" The dragon grunts afterwards, as if to say his rider makes some sense. This time.
Essdara looks over at him, and her eyes grow sad. "There is no amends, not truly. No matter what I do, I deeply hurt someone. People who do not, in any way, deserve to be hurt." She kneels down on the rock, almost hiding behind the brown head she reaches up towards. "All because I don't know the concept of restraint."
Nodding softly, the brownrider turns his churned earth gaze out over the scape before them. "Matters of the heart. Very difficult. Though we live in a strange state of things, you know. The heart and the body are in two separate places, more often than not. Where our bodies lie, and where our hearts rest are two very different things to consider. It is an understanding that must be reached, eventually." S'vos intones. The dragon opens one eye, the soft teal that signals this particular dragon's utmost calm whirls towards the girl now so close to him. Rumble, says he. "He believes that if you hug his nose you will feel better."
Essdara doesn't look like she agrees with the dragon, but also doesn't look like she's about to risk his ire by refusing. "That is an understanding I have long been aware of. But that does not, unfortunately, mean that the people around me will understand so much. And sometimes... The heart doesn't know where it wants to be any more than the body does."
"The body always knows. The heart is the one that is unsure." S'vos explains, crescendo'ing with a softness reserved for handling infants. He finally focuses more on the conversation though his hands continue to play. "How do you think you have been stupid and cruel, if you do not mind my asking?" Daenomaketh makes point to tilt his broad nose toward her.
Essdara nestles against the brown's snout. "The body can shut it's mouth." She says, a bit bitterly. "It gets me in enough trouble as it is." A sigh. "I... Let someone care about me too much, when I am not free to return it. And now she is very hurt, as is the person I /do/ care for."
Seating himself upon a stony face, the man leans towards Dara and whispers. "That is why you must care for everyone. Differently, of course, but care, nonetheless." A hand disappears into his jacket pockets and he pulls out a ripe red fruit and offers it to the girl. "From sunny places. Might brighten that disposition today."
Essdara looks at the fruit for a moment, and sighs, shaking her head. "It would be wasted on me just now, but thank you." She sits down heavily next to him. "I care for them both, differently. But they both want the same thing, they both want me to love them."
"Then love them." The man says with no hesitation what so ever. "It has been my philosophy to love every living being to some extent or the next. There is always something about the people you are around to find enjoyable. You, for instance." S'vos says softly, amber gaze sifting sideways. "I love you because you are young, but very wise. You know a great deal and you try to help everyone, no matter their status or their trouble. That takes great courage."
Essdara makes a face, "I can't, and you know that. I don't mean friendship love, though I surely have that for them both. I mean... The love where you want to be with them, all the time. Where you want to make them happy, at all costs. Where when they are sick, you want nothing more than to be there to hold her hair clear... They both deserve that, and neiter should have to share, even were they so inclined."
"They ask too much of you." S'vos says softly. "You must let them know that you are one person and cannot truly love either of them if they continue to desire all of you to themselves." He leans back, Daenomaketh's neck right there providing the perfect back rest. "But you, first, must decide. Is one more deserving over the other, or might it be better if you loved, beyond friendship, neither of them in order to show them your affections are not to be taken lightly?"
Essdara frowns. "You have it wrong. Neither is demanding anything of me, S'vos. Sy.. One simply turns away, hurt beyond words, and the other accepts me for who I am... As long as it's only my body I listen to." She looks over at him, a bit confused. "Why am I even telling you this?"
That gaze of brass considers the girl a moment, and then the lips beneath it smile with great compassion. "It is often those we don't know best who are able to help us piece out that which troubles us. Concern, yes. I feel it for you. However, I am not so wrapped up in the life you live that I can't see what goes on from an outsider's standpoint." He lets his face point out to the lake. "Before you can find forgiveness with either, I'm afraid you must first decide which path you want to take."
"I /know/ that!" Dara snaps, frustrated. "It's... Not that easy. I don't know that I can. It's like... It's like asking, which do I like more, Klah, or Baklava? Sure, they are both tasty, and both of them are wonderful, but they are /different/ and I can't compare them, let alone choose."
"Then deny both." The man says softly, unaffected by the sudden outburst of young, female rage. "Or choose both. Let the klah be ignorant of the baklava. Or, sit them at the same table and explain that both are to your liking." He rests his head back against the heavy brown hide of the dragon.
Essdara sighs. "S'vos, that's not possible. Not with them. That much, I am very clear on." She shakes her head. "This is going in circles, I think. I'm not sure I'm not more confused now that when you got here."
S'vos stands slowly, bowing low. The strings have stopped moving. "Then I cry your pardon. I will be off, now." Genuine apology, minus the drama of feeling guilty for too long. The brown raises his head, pointing it out to the rest of the atmosphere. "You could, like I mentioned earlier, choose neither." He says before scaling the beast's shoulder to settle in the straps. "That way neither one feels depreciated over the other. What do you value most; their touch, or their friendships?"
Essdara looks at him with a frown. "I don't know. I don't think I am that strong." She looks bacj out to the water then. "Clear skies, S'vos. Thank you for trying to help."
"Thank you for singing." The man says. The great earthly beast gives a lurch and vaults high above the ground.