LOG: I Promise
Date: Day 19, Month 13, Turn 18
Synopsis: Yyth shares moonlight and darkness with Cadejoth. They are perfect.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth reaches out, a rush of cold darkness, a blissful slice of oblivion. She surrounds and infiltrates, lays claim in her silent little way. But she's content just to occupy for now, to make sure only that he /knows/ about her.
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth knows. It's a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless, something about the way his metallic moonlight shivers, a dark shadow over the moon, perhaps, an almost silent vibration. Ah, Yyth, the implication is, a silent understanding, the trickle of chains slinking across each other.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth lets her content wash over and through the blackness, Cadejoth's moon, her sky. Coexistence. A sigh. Perfection. She nudges deeper, sinking in with each beat of the heart keeping tempo to her thoughts.
Dragon> Thump. Thump. Thump. It's a shared heartbeat, an even one - content with the intrusion-that-isn't. Perfection, yes. He must be sleepy, for the sense of him is stiller than usual, chains spooled rather than extended, though he accepts her eagerly into his world. Yes. Here. Like that. Good. (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> << I woke you? >> she wonders. As she sinks deeper, there's a better awareness that this... is precisely where she likes to be, wants to be. And while this pleases her, it also displeases her. She dislikes giving so much of herself away to him, even as she enjoys the closeness. << I didn't mean to. >> (Yyth to Cadejoth)
Dragon> << No, >> he assures her, quickly, though the voice is heavy with sleep. Perhaps not woken, but caught just beforehand; either way, he draws the fogs away from his mind, seeking to clear it, to make a safer, better place for her to visit. He doesn't question her like/dislike; he's here, if she wants him, doesn't mind the rest. << You are always welcome. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth accepts his denial, not truly interested in regret. << I am happy you will have me. >>
Dragon> << Why would I not? >> For Cadejoth, this seems to be a foreign idea, altogether. << You're Yyth. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth doesn't seem to believe that he would ever not want her either. << I do not know. Of course I am Yyth. As you are Cadejoth. >>
Dragon> Then, Cadejoth's unspoken reasoning goes, all is well with the world. They will always - /always/ - want each other around. << Good. Then it is settled. Are you well, Yyth? >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth dangles shapes in his moonlight, watching the way they reflect in the light. << Well, >> she agrees. << But there is room for improvement. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth admires these shapes, sending a howling wind to make them dance, his own chains adding a melody of sorts, a clanging and banging, albeit a tired one. << How? >> he prompts, thoughtful. << /We/ are happy. We like flying with Avalanche. >>
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth adds her high pitched wail to his music, a soprano note to his baritone. To his question, she sends out a swirl of physical feeling, a memory seen through a long tunnel and getting darker all the time, his wing draped across her back, her head tucked across his paws. Her voice is quiet, drawn out and humming, like she's sharing a dirty secret. << Mine is pleased yours made it into Avalanche. He is pleased to be where yours is. >>
Dragon> The music seems to please Cadejoth; there's a sense that his tail taps along with it, physically, somewhere out in the real world. To her image, he returns a sense of understanding, of 'yes, I would like that, too'. << Yours... >> He hesitates. << Likes mine a great deal. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth takes the sound of his tail tapping, weaving it in. The counterclick of claws and the even melody of their hearts beating become the bass line. She ponders his statement, trying to accertain some grain of truth in it. She has to wonder if she cares, first. She decides she doesn't and asks with indifference. << Mine values his friends greatly. He understands the boundaries between them. >> Much to the displeasure of the part of her that would like to see absolute mayhem break out.
Dragon> Ah! Such a symphony. It soothes Cadejoth, who remains tired, though he struggles to remain awake, to continue this contented, perfect communion between the two of them. << That is good. They work better, because of that. K'del respects yours. So that's good, too. >> Tiredness is beginning to overwhelm him; reluctantly, he adds, << I should sleep. But. Tomorrow? >> A visit, he promises. (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth seems vaguely annoyed that he would need to sleep. But she lets him go with a sense of royal dismissal. Before she releases the hold on him she's slowly been building, she adds smugly, << Mine will eventually lose his respect. >> Why this would make her gleeful, it's hard to say. << Yes, tomorrow. I will hold you to that. Rest well, Cadejoth. >>
Dragon> Apologies go unspoken, but they're there, all the same. Cadejoth does have a querying thought for the losing of respect - why? Not his rider! But tiredness wins out, and that thought will have to wait for tomrrow. << I promise, >> he tells her, as seriously as if it were the most important thing he will ever do. << Good night, Yyth. >> He's asleep within seconds, utterly unresponsive to anything further. (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Synopsis: Yyth shares moonlight and darkness with Cadejoth. They are perfect.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth reaches out, a rush of cold darkness, a blissful slice of oblivion. She surrounds and infiltrates, lays claim in her silent little way. But she's content just to occupy for now, to make sure only that he /knows/ about her.
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth knows. It's a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless, something about the way his metallic moonlight shivers, a dark shadow over the moon, perhaps, an almost silent vibration. Ah, Yyth, the implication is, a silent understanding, the trickle of chains slinking across each other.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth lets her content wash over and through the blackness, Cadejoth's moon, her sky. Coexistence. A sigh. Perfection. She nudges deeper, sinking in with each beat of the heart keeping tempo to her thoughts.
Dragon> Thump. Thump. Thump. It's a shared heartbeat, an even one - content with the intrusion-that-isn't. Perfection, yes. He must be sleepy, for the sense of him is stiller than usual, chains spooled rather than extended, though he accepts her eagerly into his world. Yes. Here. Like that. Good. (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> << I woke you? >> she wonders. As she sinks deeper, there's a better awareness that this... is precisely where she likes to be, wants to be. And while this pleases her, it also displeases her. She dislikes giving so much of herself away to him, even as she enjoys the closeness. << I didn't mean to. >> (Yyth to Cadejoth)
Dragon> << No, >> he assures her, quickly, though the voice is heavy with sleep. Perhaps not woken, but caught just beforehand; either way, he draws the fogs away from his mind, seeking to clear it, to make a safer, better place for her to visit. He doesn't question her like/dislike; he's here, if she wants him, doesn't mind the rest. << You are always welcome. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth accepts his denial, not truly interested in regret. << I am happy you will have me. >>
Dragon> << Why would I not? >> For Cadejoth, this seems to be a foreign idea, altogether. << You're Yyth. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth doesn't seem to believe that he would ever not want her either. << I do not know. Of course I am Yyth. As you are Cadejoth. >>
Dragon> Then, Cadejoth's unspoken reasoning goes, all is well with the world. They will always - /always/ - want each other around. << Good. Then it is settled. Are you well, Yyth? >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth dangles shapes in his moonlight, watching the way they reflect in the light. << Well, >> she agrees. << But there is room for improvement. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth admires these shapes, sending a howling wind to make them dance, his own chains adding a melody of sorts, a clanging and banging, albeit a tired one. << How? >> he prompts, thoughtful. << /We/ are happy. We like flying with Avalanche. >>
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth adds her high pitched wail to his music, a soprano note to his baritone. To his question, she sends out a swirl of physical feeling, a memory seen through a long tunnel and getting darker all the time, his wing draped across her back, her head tucked across his paws. Her voice is quiet, drawn out and humming, like she's sharing a dirty secret. << Mine is pleased yours made it into Avalanche. He is pleased to be where yours is. >>
Dragon> The music seems to please Cadejoth; there's a sense that his tail taps along with it, physically, somewhere out in the real world. To her image, he returns a sense of understanding, of 'yes, I would like that, too'. << Yours... >> He hesitates. << Likes mine a great deal. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth takes the sound of his tail tapping, weaving it in. The counterclick of claws and the even melody of their hearts beating become the bass line. She ponders his statement, trying to accertain some grain of truth in it. She has to wonder if she cares, first. She decides she doesn't and asks with indifference. << Mine values his friends greatly. He understands the boundaries between them. >> Much to the displeasure of the part of her that would like to see absolute mayhem break out.
Dragon> Ah! Such a symphony. It soothes Cadejoth, who remains tired, though he struggles to remain awake, to continue this contented, perfect communion between the two of them. << That is good. They work better, because of that. K'del respects yours. So that's good, too. >> Tiredness is beginning to overwhelm him; reluctantly, he adds, << I should sleep. But. Tomorrow? >> A visit, he promises. (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth seems vaguely annoyed that he would need to sleep. But she lets him go with a sense of royal dismissal. Before she releases the hold on him she's slowly been building, she adds smugly, << Mine will eventually lose his respect. >> Why this would make her gleeful, it's hard to say. << Yes, tomorrow. I will hold you to that. Rest well, Cadejoth. >>
Dragon> Apologies go unspoken, but they're there, all the same. Cadejoth does have a querying thought for the losing of respect - why? Not his rider! But tiredness wins out, and that thought will have to wait for tomrrow. << I promise, >> he tells her, as seriously as if it were the most important thing he will ever do. << Good night, Yyth. >> He's asleep within seconds, utterly unresponsive to anything further. (Cadejoth to Yyth)