No Gap
Location: Weyrling Clearing
Time: Afternoon on Day 14, Month 12, Turn 2
Players: J'lor, D'rian, Taikath
Scene: D'rian's attempts at avoiding J'lor for the rest of his life are thwarted.
Having accidentally on purpose missed that meeting with J'lor the day after Lili's near drowning incident, and found a handful of excuses to avoid running into the self appointed weyrlingmaster since then, D'rian continues the art of avoidance by heading back to the weyrling clearing some time after what was once usual for him. Taikath trails along behind him, the young bronze’s steps as cautious as ever. With his wings splayed out at his sides its no wonder he takes such caution. D'rian's caution is for entirely different reasons; reasons that have him scouting the area ahead of him as he walks.
Woe for D'rian this day. because eventually even J'lor gets wise to tricks. After several days of anticipating the weyrling's schedule and finding that schedule had changed, the weyrlingmaster finally had Vellath ask Taikath where he and his rider might be found. So it is that D'rian's scouting will reveal a certain long and slender figure seated not only in the makeshift barracks, but on the edge of D'rian's bunk.
Oh shit does not begin to cover the immediate thought upon such, nor the betrayed look D'rian gives the slinking form of his dragon as Taikath heads to the bunk to sniff curiously at the cuff of J'lor's pants. Standing in the threshold of the barracks, D'rian quietly studies J'lor before steeling himself and moving in further. "Sir," is the rather bland greeting.
Taikath is offered a smile and, as the inspection of his pant legs continue, a gentle caress of a singer finger on the spot between the bronze's headknobs. J'lor's attention remains on the hatchling for a long moment after that sir, but eventually his gaze does lift. A faint smile is offered. "You must have known you couldn't avoid me forever, D'rian. Sit. Please."
Taikath doesn't move away from the caress. Quite the opposite as the bronze tilts his head back to look at J'lor. Whirling eyes of a placid hue settle on the Weyrlingmaster's, then shift to his 'mate as D'rian does as he's been told. Sitting on the floor in front of the weyrlingmaster and pretty much avoiding looking at him, the weyrling says, "I've been busy. I meant to tell you but I forgot."
"Of course," the other rider murmurs. At such a response from the hatching, his second hand joins the first, fingers splaying out on both draconic cheeks to idly massage the hide there. "It is, certainly, a busy time. I'm glad you were able to take a moment and speak with me now." Like D'rian was given a choice. "Lili's little adventure gave us all a start. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"I don't want to talk about her." A quick beat, "Or that." Watching Taikath lean into J'lor's hands, D'rian clenches his jaw and looks away, "Thank Taikath. He says he's the one who found the time," D'rian's tone is bland, his expression equally so, "If there's nothing else, me and him should probably get back to the rest of our chores."
"Then Taikath is a bold little creature for his age. Vellath was contrary as well. It doesn't mean he was always wrong." J'lor's hands slide down to the bronzeling's neck and throat, scritch scritch scritching their way up and down. "He likes this," the bluerider muses languidly. "Did you ever pet Kelkoth much?"
"I use to," D'rian admits, "'till M'uri said Kelkoth wasn't a dog or a woman and there wasn't a need to treat him like one." Fisting one hand and palming it with the other, D'rian continues with, "Taikath never complained." About the lack of what J'lor was doing now; actions which have the bronze's eyes half lidded and a soft thrum of pleasure rumbling from his throat.
"Scoot closer, then. I'll show you the classic tricks." Scritch, scritch, scritch go J'lor's fingers. "What M'uri did not realize is that a dragon half-delirious with pleasure is rather easy to negotiate with." There is a small and conspiratorial smile offered to the young bronzerider.
D'rian looks at Taikath. Again. The bronze is all but leaning into J'lor by this point, half-lidded eyes now completely shut and his whole body sagging before it gives out entirely and he settles down on the ground. A tiny puff of warm air will most likely hit J'lor's palm for all that the bronzes maw is buried there. D'rian, at sight of this, moves to Taikath's side - closer as J'lor bade and now looking up at the man, "I just tell him what to do. He usually listens."
"The first thing to remember," begins J'lor as he ignores that final comment, "is that you can exert different amounts of pressure with different parts of your hand. So, if you're aiming to soothe or calm, fingertips often work best." And the rider lowers himself to the ground to follow after the collapsing hatchling, his fingertips working up and down the neck. "For sore muscles or a more fortifying touch, you can rub with your knuckles instead." His hand curls and this second technique is demonstrated.
Taikath is in heaven, or it's equivalent because he continues leaning against J'lor - the thrumming now loud enough that it reverberates through his growing body. Rubbing at his own head though watching the bluerider and his 'mate, D'rian says, "Does Vellath get like this too?"
"Mmmm," is J'lor's response. "When he's in a mood to be touched. Different dragons have different wants. Some don't like to be handled as much as Taikath. So, that's your hands. The other thing to know is that different parts of his body have different levels of sensitivity. The throat a bit more than the sides. Wings are tender in a way that means they usually dislike have the sails touched. Under the chin is good..." and long fingers move to the spot. "But the place that makes most dragons melt..." His thumbs shift to settle slow, firm strokes along Taikath's eye ridges.
If Taikath hadn't already melted, he'd do so as J'lor's thumbs shift to his eye ridges. The thrumming picks up even more as the bronze pushes his head further into J'lor's palms. The tip of his tail switches lightly as he heaves another sigh that further shakes his thin frame. D'rian, still watching all of this, gives a wry shake of his head. "I've never-" Unfinished, he reaches out to cup the underside of Taikath's jaw and tries to imitate with his thumb what J'lor is doing.
As D'rian leans forward, the bluerider leans back, his hands slowly slipping away from the bronze. He scoots a foot away, crossing his legs and clasping his hands. Wordless, J'lor simply watches.
D'rian may have watched, may have seen just how much Taikath enjoys the scritches, but a few short seconds after J'lor retreats, D'rian withdraws his own hands from Taikath. Grounded already, the bronze continues thrumming until sleep claims him. At that point, D'rian looks back toward J'lor, his eyes downcast. "I didn't think she'd be that stupid. I wouldn't have told her to do it."
"Nobody thinks you told her to do it, D'rian," J'lor says gently. "Not even K'tric. He was just trying to irritate you. It was an accident. I told her to wear the shelling things in the first place."
"Damn greenrider," D'rian replies, "I don't like him, J'lor, the guy is weird. Keeps touching her and stuff. He's sick." D'rian shakes his head and looks away, "Can't tell her to do anything, then," he says after a moment, "Girl doesn't use her head."
"K'tric is odd. I cannot deny it. But I think, for now, he's harmless. Why does it bother you that he touches her?" One of J'lor's brows lift in the common and quizzical expression. "She's young and she's learning, just as you are. Are you going to turn away from her, now that's she's made a mistake?"
"He's sick. You know that girl he's in love with? What he did with her? Don't want him trying it with Lili," D'rian says with a small scowl, "Too damn touchy for his own good-" He shakes his head and then bows it before rubbing both hands over the scruff atop it, "No."
"I know he kidnapped a girl. I don't know anything about the one he's in love with. Regardless, he has a bit more to do these days than moon for girls. And he also knows the restrictions placed on all weyrlings. As does Lili. As do you." J'lor leans back, resting is weight on his hands. At that last, that 'no', the rider only nods. "Good man."
"I know." D'rian says to J'lor's not so subtle hints, "I don't... none of 'em, they're all-" D'rian makes a face and shakes his head before looking back up to J'lor, "Won't do me any good but I'm not going to let her get hurt." Again.
"None of whom are all what?" the bluerider queries easily. "She won't wear her rabbit hides into the water again, I shouldn't think. That's a lesson well-learned."
"Worth it." D'rian finishes, rather lamely, the implication mostly clear. He still nods to the last of J'lor's words, "Just gotta be careful with her from now on. Never knew someone could be so... Lili."
"Ah," comes the faint murmur. But J'lor's lips quirk upwards and he chuckles softly. "She's a breath of fresh air, isn't she? She has no idea how charming she can be. Which is, of course, what makes her so charming to begin with."
"Stupid," D'rian corrects faintly, though it's with a smile, "She's-" Lacking for words again, D'rian splays his hands and shrugs, then looks back to Taikath. After a moment, there's a serious, "You gotta do something for her, J'lor. She's going to get hurt." A brief, brief pause, "Like Cassiel got hurt."
"Nobody else is going to get hurt the way Cassiel did," is J'lor's quiet but steely reply. "Lili's not going anywhere near the mainland, and nobody here would be foolish enough to attempt to hurt a woman. We don't stand for it here."
"I wouldn't," D'rian says, defensively and a little hurt, "I don't... I don't want her getting hurt, J'lor. Need to make her stronger so she doesn't. Smarter." With a too serious expression, D'rian looks at the bluerider, "If you don't, I will."
"She'll learn, D'rian." J'lor leans forward, hands once again flopping into his lap. "But I'm not going to crush her. I'm not going to keep her from being Lili. and I'm not going to allow you to do so either. But if you have any other ideas..." and here the solemnity breaks into a self-deprecating smirk, "I could use the help."
D'rian frowns and shakes his head again, "Not gonna crush her, just keep her from getting crushed," He reaches out to retuck a sagging wing against Taikath's side, then looks back to J'lor, "I figured I'd come up with something along the way."
"Then she'll have the pair of us looking out of her and, like it or no, K'tric besides." J'lor sighs. "You don't have to like the boy, but once we begin training formations, you will have to trust him."
"I don't," D'rian doesn't seem willing to budge on that one, "I won't. Don't put me with him, J'lor." Even more serious on that, D'rian continues with, "Next time he mouths off to me, I'm not gonna walk away."
"Yes you are. Dragonmen don't fight." J'lor sighs again, this one a bit louder. "We have one wing, man. One. Wing. How do I not put him with you, hmm?"
D'rian's jaw sets again, and he looks away from J'lor instead of arguing the point with him. He isn't able to keep some of that sulkiness from his reply to J'lor's question, "You got a turn to figure a way, J'lor. I won't fly with him."
"Then there's going to be a bronze-sized gap in the wing that thread will fall though," responds the bluerider. "I believe in you, D'rian. And I think you can do more than you give yourself credit for. I think working beside K'tric, like him or no, is something entirely within your capabilities."
"You said the same about taking my father from me," D'rian countered with a rare burst of anger, "I won't fly with him. I won't. So either it's a bronze-sized gap or a green-sized gap. Your call, J'lor."
"No gaps," J'lor replies coolly. "The island can't afford it, and you know this." He pushes up to a stand. "I wasn't wrong, about you and M'uri, was I?"
Stubbornly still, "We're not flying." D'rian may sound emphatic, but he lacks the eye contact to add weight toward such. He also lacks a response toward J'lor's question.
"Ask Taikath, when he wakes," is the bluerider's only reply. "Running starts in an hour. Don't come late." Then he turns and begins making his way out from under the barracks roof and the clearing.
D'rian remains unresponsive as the bluerider leaves, doesn't acknowledge the suggestion or the command about the impending exercise.
Time: Afternoon on Day 14, Month 12, Turn 2
Players: J'lor, D'rian, Taikath
Scene: D'rian's attempts at avoiding J'lor for the rest of his life are thwarted.
Having accidentally on purpose missed that meeting with J'lor the day after Lili's near drowning incident, and found a handful of excuses to avoid running into the self appointed weyrlingmaster since then, D'rian continues the art of avoidance by heading back to the weyrling clearing some time after what was once usual for him. Taikath trails along behind him, the young bronze’s steps as cautious as ever. With his wings splayed out at his sides its no wonder he takes such caution. D'rian's caution is for entirely different reasons; reasons that have him scouting the area ahead of him as he walks.
Woe for D'rian this day. because eventually even J'lor gets wise to tricks. After several days of anticipating the weyrling's schedule and finding that schedule had changed, the weyrlingmaster finally had Vellath ask Taikath where he and his rider might be found. So it is that D'rian's scouting will reveal a certain long and slender figure seated not only in the makeshift barracks, but on the edge of D'rian's bunk.
Oh shit does not begin to cover the immediate thought upon such, nor the betrayed look D'rian gives the slinking form of his dragon as Taikath heads to the bunk to sniff curiously at the cuff of J'lor's pants. Standing in the threshold of the barracks, D'rian quietly studies J'lor before steeling himself and moving in further. "Sir," is the rather bland greeting.
Taikath is offered a smile and, as the inspection of his pant legs continue, a gentle caress of a singer finger on the spot between the bronze's headknobs. J'lor's attention remains on the hatchling for a long moment after that sir, but eventually his gaze does lift. A faint smile is offered. "You must have known you couldn't avoid me forever, D'rian. Sit. Please."
Taikath doesn't move away from the caress. Quite the opposite as the bronze tilts his head back to look at J'lor. Whirling eyes of a placid hue settle on the Weyrlingmaster's, then shift to his 'mate as D'rian does as he's been told. Sitting on the floor in front of the weyrlingmaster and pretty much avoiding looking at him, the weyrling says, "I've been busy. I meant to tell you but I forgot."
"Of course," the other rider murmurs. At such a response from the hatching, his second hand joins the first, fingers splaying out on both draconic cheeks to idly massage the hide there. "It is, certainly, a busy time. I'm glad you were able to take a moment and speak with me now." Like D'rian was given a choice. "Lili's little adventure gave us all a start. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"I don't want to talk about her." A quick beat, "Or that." Watching Taikath lean into J'lor's hands, D'rian clenches his jaw and looks away, "Thank Taikath. He says he's the one who found the time," D'rian's tone is bland, his expression equally so, "If there's nothing else, me and him should probably get back to the rest of our chores."
"Then Taikath is a bold little creature for his age. Vellath was contrary as well. It doesn't mean he was always wrong." J'lor's hands slide down to the bronzeling's neck and throat, scritch scritch scritching their way up and down. "He likes this," the bluerider muses languidly. "Did you ever pet Kelkoth much?"
"I use to," D'rian admits, "'till M'uri said Kelkoth wasn't a dog or a woman and there wasn't a need to treat him like one." Fisting one hand and palming it with the other, D'rian continues with, "Taikath never complained." About the lack of what J'lor was doing now; actions which have the bronze's eyes half lidded and a soft thrum of pleasure rumbling from his throat.
"Scoot closer, then. I'll show you the classic tricks." Scritch, scritch, scritch go J'lor's fingers. "What M'uri did not realize is that a dragon half-delirious with pleasure is rather easy to negotiate with." There is a small and conspiratorial smile offered to the young bronzerider.
D'rian looks at Taikath. Again. The bronze is all but leaning into J'lor by this point, half-lidded eyes now completely shut and his whole body sagging before it gives out entirely and he settles down on the ground. A tiny puff of warm air will most likely hit J'lor's palm for all that the bronzes maw is buried there. D'rian, at sight of this, moves to Taikath's side - closer as J'lor bade and now looking up at the man, "I just tell him what to do. He usually listens."
"The first thing to remember," begins J'lor as he ignores that final comment, "is that you can exert different amounts of pressure with different parts of your hand. So, if you're aiming to soothe or calm, fingertips often work best." And the rider lowers himself to the ground to follow after the collapsing hatchling, his fingertips working up and down the neck. "For sore muscles or a more fortifying touch, you can rub with your knuckles instead." His hand curls and this second technique is demonstrated.
Taikath is in heaven, or it's equivalent because he continues leaning against J'lor - the thrumming now loud enough that it reverberates through his growing body. Rubbing at his own head though watching the bluerider and his 'mate, D'rian says, "Does Vellath get like this too?"
"Mmmm," is J'lor's response. "When he's in a mood to be touched. Different dragons have different wants. Some don't like to be handled as much as Taikath. So, that's your hands. The other thing to know is that different parts of his body have different levels of sensitivity. The throat a bit more than the sides. Wings are tender in a way that means they usually dislike have the sails touched. Under the chin is good..." and long fingers move to the spot. "But the place that makes most dragons melt..." His thumbs shift to settle slow, firm strokes along Taikath's eye ridges.
If Taikath hadn't already melted, he'd do so as J'lor's thumbs shift to his eye ridges. The thrumming picks up even more as the bronze pushes his head further into J'lor's palms. The tip of his tail switches lightly as he heaves another sigh that further shakes his thin frame. D'rian, still watching all of this, gives a wry shake of his head. "I've never-" Unfinished, he reaches out to cup the underside of Taikath's jaw and tries to imitate with his thumb what J'lor is doing.
As D'rian leans forward, the bluerider leans back, his hands slowly slipping away from the bronze. He scoots a foot away, crossing his legs and clasping his hands. Wordless, J'lor simply watches.
D'rian may have watched, may have seen just how much Taikath enjoys the scritches, but a few short seconds after J'lor retreats, D'rian withdraws his own hands from Taikath. Grounded already, the bronze continues thrumming until sleep claims him. At that point, D'rian looks back toward J'lor, his eyes downcast. "I didn't think she'd be that stupid. I wouldn't have told her to do it."
"Nobody thinks you told her to do it, D'rian," J'lor says gently. "Not even K'tric. He was just trying to irritate you. It was an accident. I told her to wear the shelling things in the first place."
"Damn greenrider," D'rian replies, "I don't like him, J'lor, the guy is weird. Keeps touching her and stuff. He's sick." D'rian shakes his head and looks away, "Can't tell her to do anything, then," he says after a moment, "Girl doesn't use her head."
"K'tric is odd. I cannot deny it. But I think, for now, he's harmless. Why does it bother you that he touches her?" One of J'lor's brows lift in the common and quizzical expression. "She's young and she's learning, just as you are. Are you going to turn away from her, now that's she's made a mistake?"
"He's sick. You know that girl he's in love with? What he did with her? Don't want him trying it with Lili," D'rian says with a small scowl, "Too damn touchy for his own good-" He shakes his head and then bows it before rubbing both hands over the scruff atop it, "No."
"I know he kidnapped a girl. I don't know anything about the one he's in love with. Regardless, he has a bit more to do these days than moon for girls. And he also knows the restrictions placed on all weyrlings. As does Lili. As do you." J'lor leans back, resting is weight on his hands. At that last, that 'no', the rider only nods. "Good man."
"I know." D'rian says to J'lor's not so subtle hints, "I don't... none of 'em, they're all-" D'rian makes a face and shakes his head before looking back up to J'lor, "Won't do me any good but I'm not going to let her get hurt." Again.
"None of whom are all what?" the bluerider queries easily. "She won't wear her rabbit hides into the water again, I shouldn't think. That's a lesson well-learned."
"Worth it." D'rian finishes, rather lamely, the implication mostly clear. He still nods to the last of J'lor's words, "Just gotta be careful with her from now on. Never knew someone could be so... Lili."
"Ah," comes the faint murmur. But J'lor's lips quirk upwards and he chuckles softly. "She's a breath of fresh air, isn't she? She has no idea how charming she can be. Which is, of course, what makes her so charming to begin with."
"Stupid," D'rian corrects faintly, though it's with a smile, "She's-" Lacking for words again, D'rian splays his hands and shrugs, then looks back to Taikath. After a moment, there's a serious, "You gotta do something for her, J'lor. She's going to get hurt." A brief, brief pause, "Like Cassiel got hurt."
"Nobody else is going to get hurt the way Cassiel did," is J'lor's quiet but steely reply. "Lili's not going anywhere near the mainland, and nobody here would be foolish enough to attempt to hurt a woman. We don't stand for it here."
"I wouldn't," D'rian says, defensively and a little hurt, "I don't... I don't want her getting hurt, J'lor. Need to make her stronger so she doesn't. Smarter." With a too serious expression, D'rian looks at the bluerider, "If you don't, I will."
"She'll learn, D'rian." J'lor leans forward, hands once again flopping into his lap. "But I'm not going to crush her. I'm not going to keep her from being Lili. and I'm not going to allow you to do so either. But if you have any other ideas..." and here the solemnity breaks into a self-deprecating smirk, "I could use the help."
D'rian frowns and shakes his head again, "Not gonna crush her, just keep her from getting crushed," He reaches out to retuck a sagging wing against Taikath's side, then looks back to J'lor, "I figured I'd come up with something along the way."
"Then she'll have the pair of us looking out of her and, like it or no, K'tric besides." J'lor sighs. "You don't have to like the boy, but once we begin training formations, you will have to trust him."
"I don't," D'rian doesn't seem willing to budge on that one, "I won't. Don't put me with him, J'lor." Even more serious on that, D'rian continues with, "Next time he mouths off to me, I'm not gonna walk away."
"Yes you are. Dragonmen don't fight." J'lor sighs again, this one a bit louder. "We have one wing, man. One. Wing. How do I not put him with you, hmm?"
D'rian's jaw sets again, and he looks away from J'lor instead of arguing the point with him. He isn't able to keep some of that sulkiness from his reply to J'lor's question, "You got a turn to figure a way, J'lor. I won't fly with him."
"Then there's going to be a bronze-sized gap in the wing that thread will fall though," responds the bluerider. "I believe in you, D'rian. And I think you can do more than you give yourself credit for. I think working beside K'tric, like him or no, is something entirely within your capabilities."
"You said the same about taking my father from me," D'rian countered with a rare burst of anger, "I won't fly with him. I won't. So either it's a bronze-sized gap or a green-sized gap. Your call, J'lor."
"No gaps," J'lor replies coolly. "The island can't afford it, and you know this." He pushes up to a stand. "I wasn't wrong, about you and M'uri, was I?"
Stubbornly still, "We're not flying." D'rian may sound emphatic, but he lacks the eye contact to add weight toward such. He also lacks a response toward J'lor's question.
"Ask Taikath, when he wakes," is the bluerider's only reply. "Running starts in an hour. Don't come late." Then he turns and begins making his way out from under the barracks roof and the clearing.
D'rian remains unresponsive as the bluerider leaves, doesn't acknowledge the suggestion or the command about the impending exercise.