LOG: Kind of Sucks
Date: Day 11, Month 2, Turn 20
Location: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: In bizarro-land, Tiriana and K'del actually have a conversation.
Log stolen from brazenbronzer
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.
A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.
It is a rare day of cloudless sunshine, though the temperatures are markedly colder.
Another clear, cold day is coming to a close, and people are calling it a day. Not so for Tiriana, who's out at the lake still, as the sun starts going down. Her coat's unbuttoned, pushed back off her neck, and she's not got any hat on today; in fact, despite the cold temperature, she looks quite hot, face flushed as she reins in from pacing on the shore and stomping on the thinning ice at the lake's edge, to take a seat on one of the big rocks on the beach.
K'del is jogging again. Something he's been doing relatively regularly of late, and, thankfully, improving at. So, while he's a little puffed as he gets as far as the lakeshore, it's only because he's already been around most of the bowl, and besides, the cold? Makes it all just that little bit harder. Though Tiriana is not his target, he does slow as he notices her, his expression shifting, darkening; then, he adjusts his path, deliberately not too close to her, as though he's still deciding whether or not to actually approach.
Tiriana can be a little self-centered (surprise!). So no matter that K'del's been doing this more lately, when he starts by her, her brows knit up like she's never seen--or at least never noticed--this before. She watches for a moment, kicks a boot at a bare patch in the snow, and then finally calls over, with deliberate begrudgedness, "When'd you start this up?"
K'del's head lifts, turns, and then he comes to a halt, sucking in a long breath before he actually responds to Tiriana. "Few months. Worked out that I wasn't keeping as in shape. Hidework and meetings and all. So. Figured I should try and do something about it." He shakes out his hands, then runs one through his bare hair, giving her a thoughtful glance. "What're you doing, sitting out here all on your own?" In the cold. Alone. Important things."
"I could have told you that," says Tiriana, with a snort. "Don't know why in the hell you're doing it this time of day, though." But she shrugs and nudges at the rocks again with a toe, apparently ready to let him go with that. Except, there's an important question. Her mouth tightens when she glances back up. "What, you mean with all my friends?" she snaps.
K'del's mouth opens, after he takes another long breath, evidently the beginning of an answer to her first statement, but as she comes out with her snapped question, he falters, and then frowns. "No." 'Idiot', his tone says, or maybe something worse. "Meant more... it's cold, and getting dark, and there are better places to sit. But. Whatever. Sure. All your friends that you work so hard to cultivate."
Again, Tiriana's lips purse, but whatever smart-assed retort she might want to give to that, she swallows it, somehow. Instead, after several seconds of silence, she manages instead, "Should do it in the morning. Before you have all day to get pissed off and tired and ready to just go get drunk at home."
"Not much of a morning person," is what K'del says in return, stamping his feet to keep warm, though he must, after the run, but pretty sweaty warm already. "And it kind of clears my head. Makes me less... It's a bit like flying, I guess. Only not really. Try to avoid getting drunk, most of the time."
"Flying's boring," says Tiriana, possibly the only rider who'd say that. "You just sit there and let them do all the work. I'd rather run--have to run, first thing every morning. Or I'd kill somebody." It's almost friendly, really. Except possibly for the bland addition of, "More than I do anyway."
K'del, certainly, fastens a disbelieving look on Tiriana, though it fades off quickly enough. "It's exhilarating. Flying. And running, too." He's making that comment while visibly biting back something else. Then, "You always run alone?"
Tiriana eyes K'del like he might just be the idiot now. "You know anybody that's just clamoring to run around with the Weyrwoman before dawn half the time? Please. Don't know why anybody else would /need/ to," she declares, with a shake of her head. "Before Satiet--" But she's not going down that road.
Idiot or not, K'del just shrugs his shoulders, as he digs his hands into his pockets to keep them warmer. "You used to run with Satiet?" It's actually not too much of a question, because he doesn't wait for an answer. "Just. Well. /I/ find it nice to run with someone, sometimes. Which is not me begging you to let me join in, for the record, since we're pretty clear on where we stand with each other, I guess. Just." A shrug.
Tiriana pauses for a moment, then nods once. "She was the one that got me started," she admits. And moves on quickly, though that could just be because, well. K'del's latter remarks are certainly worthy of the raised brows they earn. Warily, "Do you /want/ to run with me?"
"Smart lady." Though K'del doesn't linger on that idea, and turns his gaze away rather than encourage further comment on it. He opens his mouth for several seconds before he answers the last, and when he does, it's awkward. "Dunno. Would you hit me, or yell at me, or whatever, if I said I did?"
"Dunno," says Tiriana herself, after another beat. "Would you be on time? Actually keep up?" She looks dubious about this, but that's nothing compared to the outright skepticism the latter question deserves. "Why would you want to?"
This is totally weird. K'del definitely seems to think so, his expression mostly unreadable, except that he's obviously struggling with working this one out. "Why not? Might be more fun, running with someone. Don't have to talk or anything, just... push each other. Whatever." Pause, then, backtracking, "Would be. And could, yeah. Mi-- usually wake up before dawn, just often go back to sleep. Could just get up, be ready to go. Easy."
"Not /allowed/ to talk," corrects Tiriana at once. "It's the Rules." Capital R. Studying him then, up and down, she lets her mouth pull into a frown again, asks, "Milani?" Just the name's enough to sour her expression again, but she tries to move on. The best she can do is a brusque, "Fine. Be on the ledge at dawn, then."
"No talking," promises K'del, honestly, both hands lifted from his pockets and held up, like he's swearing an oath, but with both hands instead of one. He doesn't take up the Milani comment, merely shrugs, before, as his hands get pushed back into his pockets, "All right. At dawn. And if I'm annoying, or you decide you don't want me around, you can tell me to fuck off, and I'll go back to running in the evening."
"And at least you can't say I didn't try," says Tiriana, firmly. Her hands reach to pull her coat together finally, as the twilight chill starts getting to her again. "Too early to be having to share my bowl with you people."
There's a twitch to K'del's lips, as though he's holding back an outright smile. Finally, he tells her, "No, won't be able to say you didn't try. Appreciate that. Attempting it, maybe even having an open mind... can't hurt. No real skin off your nose. Thank you."
"Yes, and I really need a lecture on open-mindedness from you," Tiriana says, and while her frown lingers, at least the retort lacks real bite this time. And while it might be settled, their business effectively concluded, she doesn't move to get up and go in where it's warm, or to let him get on with his own run or whatever he has to do now. Instead, she says, "So why are you really doing this?"
K'del's hands go up again: peace, this time, though, not a gesture promising anything. "What, running in general, or wanting to run with you? The latter, I suppose. Dunno. I get it, we're never going to be friends, never going to get along. But... why not? Just running. Doesn't require us to be anything, except willing to put up with the simple presence of the other. And friendly - or, you know, whatever - competition never hurts."
"I guess," and Tiriana shrugs, though she sounds unconvinced. Her head shakes. "I don't get you people. One day you want to tell me how I'm such an evil bitch until I--I end up going to Fort. Next day you want to invade the only time I get free of all of you." Nevermind she already agreed; it seems more bewilderment now, than the usual irritation.
"You people? Pretty sure I'm only one person, unless I'm missing something." K'del's tone is light for that comment, but after he's said it, he shakes his head, shuffles his feet, and then, "Going to Fort?" Beat. "Oh - R'uen. Shells, Tiriana. You think I get you, either? You confuse me. But I feel like it'd be better if we had /some/ common ground. So. Running. But if you change your mind, well, so be it."
"All you people," repeats Tiriana, matter-of-fact. "You're all just alike. Bunch of ungrateful, judgmental cowards. --What do /I/ do?" As though she can't possibly fathom how /she/ might be the confusing one of this pair.
K'del, brows raised, shakes his head. "I may be judgmental, Tiriana, but I'm hardly the only one. You make plenty of your own. And... Shells, I don't know. How many people do you actually talk with? At least running with me'll mean you /choose/ to spend one small part of your day with someone other than your weyrmate." He sounds... almost sad. "But. Whatever."
"Yeah, but I have reasons," Tiriana insists. "And anyway, doesn't mean I'm /wrong/. Exactly. You can't argue with the rest of that, can you?" Her brows lift in challenge, though his latter statement leaves her more defensive again. "There are other people I like," she sniffs. "Just because I don't try to be everybody's best friend like /some/ people--."
Just one hand gets lifted this time. "Peace, Tiriana," says K'del, looking hopeful. "Just... You're sitting outside, on your own, apparently-- brooding, or something? Instead of being inside where it's warm, with other people. Shells, even your dragon. You okay?"
"And now you care how I am. Will the wonders never cease," says Tiriana. "I'm... waiting on R'uen." Three guesses where that excuse got pulled out of. She blusters on quickly, "And Iovniath, it's not like she's not always with me, anyway. She just likes the ledge better, where she can see the whole Weyr spread out."
"I /do/ care." K'del's frowning as he says this. "Believe it or not. Oh." That would be for her reason. It's hard to tell if he believes her or not, but he nods along anyway. "I like the view from my ledge, too. Cadejoth'd rather be flying, though, or in the snow, or something. /Doing/ something. When's R'uen supposed to get here?"
Tiriana answers, "I don't. And Cadejoth's--well. Iovniath's not an overgrown puppy. She's actually /respectable/." But she shrugs, hesitates before answering the latter question. "Whenever he gets here. I don't know. It's Fort, he's Weyrleader. He comes when he can."
From K'del, a shrug. "She is. And he's... he means well. Whatever he's like." His nose wrinkles at her answer, and he sounds actually, genuinely sorry as he says, "That's got to suck. You going to hang out here in the cold until he comes, even if it takes hours?"
Defensive, Tiriana says, "Maybe. Might just sit out here all night." And she crosses her arms, like she just might do it; but even that fit of pique's short-lived tonight. Finally, unhappily, she says, "I don't need your pity."
"Why would you do a dumb thing like that?" K'del wants to know, but there's no actual malice in his words; it's all very light. "Wasn't pitying you. Sympathy, not pity. /Does/ suck. Think anyone would agree with that."
Tiriana blows out a breath, and in her most long-suffering voice, tells him, "I was being sarcastic." It earns a shake of her head, but that's all, as she frowns and casts a sideways look at him. "Well. I don't need that, either. Of course it sucks, but I still don't need anybody feeling sorry for me now."
K'del rolls his eyes, in response to that long-suffering voice, but says, only, "Of course you were. And, fine, okay. No feeling sorry for you, either. No sympathy, no empathy, no bond with human kind. Should I leave you to your loneliness, or do you want to walk back with me?"
"Not that kind of bond," agrees Tiriana, stubborn on that point; but she does stand up, her coat buttoned loosely in the process: apparently she will walk back with him, at least. "Rather have the whole damn world hate me than sitting around like a bunch of aunties talking about 'oh, poor Tiriana.'"
More shrugging for K'del; whatever, whoever, who cares. "Okay, that's fair enough, I guess. Not like I'm /actively/ feeling sorry for you. Just... it sucks." He tilts his head towards the bowl, and though for a moment it looks like he's about to offer his arm, he doens't /actually/ go that far. Instead, as he starts walking, he says, "Think it's pretty rad that you've managed, actually, doing the long distance thing, with your duties and everything as well. Kudos."
And that might actually be something less welcome than sympathy, compliments on her relationship skills. Or at the least, it earns a complete stop, just as they're getting started, and Tiriana eyes him more dubiously than ever. "Kudos. Gee, thanks, that makes it all worth it at last," she says slowly. "Not like... we don't have dragons. Ways. Stuff like that. --I like it better when you're trying to be an ass."
Laughing, despite her reaction, K'del notes, "Don't actually /try/ to be an ass, believe it or not, Tiriana." He stops soon after she does, to turn back and look at her, visibly amused. "I guess I'd just find it really hard. Given up on most of the girls I used to see who lived elsewhere. That's all. Coming?"
"Well, of course /you/ would," sniffs Tiriana. "You think with your dick." But it's matter-of-fact, and she starts walking again, catching up with him as they start in. As for being an ass-- "It just comes natural?" And she actually smirks about it.
K'del doesn't /actually/ deny this; in fact, he says, laughing again, "Sometimes, sure. Seventeen, remember?" As if either of them could forget. Back to walking, he adds, "Must do. At least to you. You bring out the ass in me, what can I say?"
Tiriana snorts. "It's a talent, what can I say." But it brings out an almost-smile in her, begrudged though it plainly is. She adds, "We were already--like this. When I was seventeen. Except, Telgar. None of this Fort shit. Or Iovniath."
"You and R'uen? Long time. Maybe that makes it easier, when you've already had the opportunity to be close to someone." Aside from a smile, K'del ignores the first part of what Tiriana says in order to respond to the rest. "If he stops being Weyrleader at some point, will you ask him to move here?"
"Yeah. It is," says Tiriana, as though she's just realizing that herself. "At least five turns, depending on when you start counting." But the musings on that end abruptly as she stares at K'del again, lets her steps falter for a moment with her incredulity. "He'd quit now, if I asked him to," she declares with utter confidence. "He won't chase again."
K'del doesn't let himself look /too/ impressed, but, well, he probably is. Five turns is a lot when you're seventeen. As her steps falter, he shifts his gaze to look at her more directly, brows raised. "He won't? So - you've talked about it? Well, that's good, right? Must care a lot about you."
"Of course we have," and Tiriana just shakes her head. Oh, the young and male, and their relationship ignorance. "We wouldn't be bothering with all this back-and-forth crap if we didn't. It's shit, not having a real home. And I can't even go most of the time--it's always something here. First Satiet's sick and then--" dead "and then the clutch and /then/ fucking raiders to deal with, too."
"Of course," repeats K'del, as though by saying it again, he'll sound as though he never doubted it. And with a smile, too! "I bet," he adds, then. "Though... there's nothing now, is there? Stopping you. If you wanted. No clutch, no raiders," he doesn't mention Satiet, but concludes, "Nothing really pressing to worry about."
"I don't trust you people," and there's that term again. "Soon as I walk out the door, you'll be messing something up and then I'll have to come deal with it all myself anyway. And Iovniath hates going, anyway--having to be a guest, leave her Weyr." A pause, and her mouth twists into another of those almost-smiles, wry though it is. "Anyway, I hate it there, too. /I'd/ be fine if Fort just fell off in the ocean one day, or something."
A pause. Not that K'del stops walking, but he doesn't answer immediately, to any of it. "As long as R'uen got out safely." And then, fast on the heals of that, "We're not so useless as all that. If you wanted to. But if you don't, well, fair enough. Cadejoth isn't all that big on leaving these days, either. So I get that."
"Exactly," agrees Tiriana, with just a hint of smugness: hey, he gets it! As for the latter, "Not completely useless? I guess." She has such faith in them. "There's still always something. Between Iovniath, the holders and the the weyrfolk all wanting a piece of me, and Milani shoving more stuff on me to handle all the time--." A shrug. "Satiet was right. You don't ever get to just... you know. Anymore."
K'del voices it: "Such faith, Tiriana! It's flattering." But he's smiling, easily enough. "Mm. Guess not. One thing after another, endless. 'With rank comes responsibility', as people always tell you. I guess. Kind of sucks."
"'Kind of,'" repeats Tiriana, shaking her head at that thought, the understatement of it. She adds, with a sideways glance at him, "They always want something. Something /more/. And then you do the best thing you can, and they bitch about that, too."
The way she repeats it just makes K'del laugh. "All right, 'really, truly, absolutely', then. I mean, I guess it makes sense, in some ways, but still... It'd be nice to get a break from it." He has nothing but nods for the rest of it, and then, "Guess most people don't really get how hard it is. Don't understand. Thinking about themselves, not about... what goes on, behind that."
"Think it's all just fun and games, being Weyrleaders," agrees Tiriana. "You get to do whatever you want, and hang 'em all if they fuck with you." And this time, she very pointedly doesn't look at K'del at all, just continues their snowy trek back to the ledge.
"Right," agrees K'del, who doesn't look at Tiriana, either, probably taking his cue from her. "Don't see any of the compromises, the repercussions, the... any of it. Just the glory." It's probably a good thing they're getting close to the ledge, now. It wouldn't do for this kind of agreement to last too much longer. "Completely misses the fucking point."
Tiriana is silent the rest of the short distance remaining, waiting until they're up the stairs and ready to part ways to turn back to him. "They wouldn't do this to Satiet," she says then. "She could hang every last fucking one of those raiders, and all anybody'd say is how they deserved it, and isn't it wonderful how they've got a Weyrwoman who'd do whatever it takes to take care of them all."
K'del hesitates visibly before he responds to that, silent and still. Then, slowly, heaving out a low breath, "She was something, wasn't she? Satiet." Never mind what he thinks of the execution, as she so well knows.
"Yeah," says Tiriana. "She was." And that, apparently, will have to do for goodbye, goodnight, because she turns then to head inside to her warm weyr.
K'del only lingers a moment, after that, watching Tiriana go. Then, he, too, turns to head into his own weyr. His expression, if she were only able to see it? Something akin to triumph.
Location: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: In bizarro-land, Tiriana and K'del actually have a conversation.
Log stolen from brazenbronzer
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.
A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.
It is a rare day of cloudless sunshine, though the temperatures are markedly colder.
Another clear, cold day is coming to a close, and people are calling it a day. Not so for Tiriana, who's out at the lake still, as the sun starts going down. Her coat's unbuttoned, pushed back off her neck, and she's not got any hat on today; in fact, despite the cold temperature, she looks quite hot, face flushed as she reins in from pacing on the shore and stomping on the thinning ice at the lake's edge, to take a seat on one of the big rocks on the beach.
K'del is jogging again. Something he's been doing relatively regularly of late, and, thankfully, improving at. So, while he's a little puffed as he gets as far as the lakeshore, it's only because he's already been around most of the bowl, and besides, the cold? Makes it all just that little bit harder. Though Tiriana is not his target, he does slow as he notices her, his expression shifting, darkening; then, he adjusts his path, deliberately not too close to her, as though he's still deciding whether or not to actually approach.
Tiriana can be a little self-centered (surprise!). So no matter that K'del's been doing this more lately, when he starts by her, her brows knit up like she's never seen--or at least never noticed--this before. She watches for a moment, kicks a boot at a bare patch in the snow, and then finally calls over, with deliberate begrudgedness, "When'd you start this up?"
K'del's head lifts, turns, and then he comes to a halt, sucking in a long breath before he actually responds to Tiriana. "Few months. Worked out that I wasn't keeping as in shape. Hidework and meetings and all. So. Figured I should try and do something about it." He shakes out his hands, then runs one through his bare hair, giving her a thoughtful glance. "What're you doing, sitting out here all on your own?" In the cold. Alone. Important things."
"I could have told you that," says Tiriana, with a snort. "Don't know why in the hell you're doing it this time of day, though." But she shrugs and nudges at the rocks again with a toe, apparently ready to let him go with that. Except, there's an important question. Her mouth tightens when she glances back up. "What, you mean with all my friends?" she snaps.
K'del's mouth opens, after he takes another long breath, evidently the beginning of an answer to her first statement, but as she comes out with her snapped question, he falters, and then frowns. "No." 'Idiot', his tone says, or maybe something worse. "Meant more... it's cold, and getting dark, and there are better places to sit. But. Whatever. Sure. All your friends that you work so hard to cultivate."
Again, Tiriana's lips purse, but whatever smart-assed retort she might want to give to that, she swallows it, somehow. Instead, after several seconds of silence, she manages instead, "Should do it in the morning. Before you have all day to get pissed off and tired and ready to just go get drunk at home."
"Not much of a morning person," is what K'del says in return, stamping his feet to keep warm, though he must, after the run, but pretty sweaty warm already. "And it kind of clears my head. Makes me less... It's a bit like flying, I guess. Only not really. Try to avoid getting drunk, most of the time."
"Flying's boring," says Tiriana, possibly the only rider who'd say that. "You just sit there and let them do all the work. I'd rather run--have to run, first thing every morning. Or I'd kill somebody." It's almost friendly, really. Except possibly for the bland addition of, "More than I do anyway."
K'del, certainly, fastens a disbelieving look on Tiriana, though it fades off quickly enough. "It's exhilarating. Flying. And running, too." He's making that comment while visibly biting back something else. Then, "You always run alone?"
Tiriana eyes K'del like he might just be the idiot now. "You know anybody that's just clamoring to run around with the Weyrwoman before dawn half the time? Please. Don't know why anybody else would /need/ to," she declares, with a shake of her head. "Before Satiet--" But she's not going down that road.
Idiot or not, K'del just shrugs his shoulders, as he digs his hands into his pockets to keep them warmer. "You used to run with Satiet?" It's actually not too much of a question, because he doesn't wait for an answer. "Just. Well. /I/ find it nice to run with someone, sometimes. Which is not me begging you to let me join in, for the record, since we're pretty clear on where we stand with each other, I guess. Just." A shrug.
Tiriana pauses for a moment, then nods once. "She was the one that got me started," she admits. And moves on quickly, though that could just be because, well. K'del's latter remarks are certainly worthy of the raised brows they earn. Warily, "Do you /want/ to run with me?"
"Smart lady." Though K'del doesn't linger on that idea, and turns his gaze away rather than encourage further comment on it. He opens his mouth for several seconds before he answers the last, and when he does, it's awkward. "Dunno. Would you hit me, or yell at me, or whatever, if I said I did?"
"Dunno," says Tiriana herself, after another beat. "Would you be on time? Actually keep up?" She looks dubious about this, but that's nothing compared to the outright skepticism the latter question deserves. "Why would you want to?"
This is totally weird. K'del definitely seems to think so, his expression mostly unreadable, except that he's obviously struggling with working this one out. "Why not? Might be more fun, running with someone. Don't have to talk or anything, just... push each other. Whatever." Pause, then, backtracking, "Would be. And could, yeah. Mi-- usually wake up before dawn, just often go back to sleep. Could just get up, be ready to go. Easy."
"Not /allowed/ to talk," corrects Tiriana at once. "It's the Rules." Capital R. Studying him then, up and down, she lets her mouth pull into a frown again, asks, "Milani?" Just the name's enough to sour her expression again, but she tries to move on. The best she can do is a brusque, "Fine. Be on the ledge at dawn, then."
"No talking," promises K'del, honestly, both hands lifted from his pockets and held up, like he's swearing an oath, but with both hands instead of one. He doesn't take up the Milani comment, merely shrugs, before, as his hands get pushed back into his pockets, "All right. At dawn. And if I'm annoying, or you decide you don't want me around, you can tell me to fuck off, and I'll go back to running in the evening."
"And at least you can't say I didn't try," says Tiriana, firmly. Her hands reach to pull her coat together finally, as the twilight chill starts getting to her again. "Too early to be having to share my bowl with you people."
There's a twitch to K'del's lips, as though he's holding back an outright smile. Finally, he tells her, "No, won't be able to say you didn't try. Appreciate that. Attempting it, maybe even having an open mind... can't hurt. No real skin off your nose. Thank you."
"Yes, and I really need a lecture on open-mindedness from you," Tiriana says, and while her frown lingers, at least the retort lacks real bite this time. And while it might be settled, their business effectively concluded, she doesn't move to get up and go in where it's warm, or to let him get on with his own run or whatever he has to do now. Instead, she says, "So why are you really doing this?"
K'del's hands go up again: peace, this time, though, not a gesture promising anything. "What, running in general, or wanting to run with you? The latter, I suppose. Dunno. I get it, we're never going to be friends, never going to get along. But... why not? Just running. Doesn't require us to be anything, except willing to put up with the simple presence of the other. And friendly - or, you know, whatever - competition never hurts."
"I guess," and Tiriana shrugs, though she sounds unconvinced. Her head shakes. "I don't get you people. One day you want to tell me how I'm such an evil bitch until I--I end up going to Fort. Next day you want to invade the only time I get free of all of you." Nevermind she already agreed; it seems more bewilderment now, than the usual irritation.
"You people? Pretty sure I'm only one person, unless I'm missing something." K'del's tone is light for that comment, but after he's said it, he shakes his head, shuffles his feet, and then, "Going to Fort?" Beat. "Oh - R'uen. Shells, Tiriana. You think I get you, either? You confuse me. But I feel like it'd be better if we had /some/ common ground. So. Running. But if you change your mind, well, so be it."
"All you people," repeats Tiriana, matter-of-fact. "You're all just alike. Bunch of ungrateful, judgmental cowards. --What do /I/ do?" As though she can't possibly fathom how /she/ might be the confusing one of this pair.
K'del, brows raised, shakes his head. "I may be judgmental, Tiriana, but I'm hardly the only one. You make plenty of your own. And... Shells, I don't know. How many people do you actually talk with? At least running with me'll mean you /choose/ to spend one small part of your day with someone other than your weyrmate." He sounds... almost sad. "But. Whatever."
"Yeah, but I have reasons," Tiriana insists. "And anyway, doesn't mean I'm /wrong/. Exactly. You can't argue with the rest of that, can you?" Her brows lift in challenge, though his latter statement leaves her more defensive again. "There are other people I like," she sniffs. "Just because I don't try to be everybody's best friend like /some/ people--."
Just one hand gets lifted this time. "Peace, Tiriana," says K'del, looking hopeful. "Just... You're sitting outside, on your own, apparently-- brooding, or something? Instead of being inside where it's warm, with other people. Shells, even your dragon. You okay?"
"And now you care how I am. Will the wonders never cease," says Tiriana. "I'm... waiting on R'uen." Three guesses where that excuse got pulled out of. She blusters on quickly, "And Iovniath, it's not like she's not always with me, anyway. She just likes the ledge better, where she can see the whole Weyr spread out."
"I /do/ care." K'del's frowning as he says this. "Believe it or not. Oh." That would be for her reason. It's hard to tell if he believes her or not, but he nods along anyway. "I like the view from my ledge, too. Cadejoth'd rather be flying, though, or in the snow, or something. /Doing/ something. When's R'uen supposed to get here?"
Tiriana answers, "I don't. And Cadejoth's--well. Iovniath's not an overgrown puppy. She's actually /respectable/." But she shrugs, hesitates before answering the latter question. "Whenever he gets here. I don't know. It's Fort, he's Weyrleader. He comes when he can."
From K'del, a shrug. "She is. And he's... he means well. Whatever he's like." His nose wrinkles at her answer, and he sounds actually, genuinely sorry as he says, "That's got to suck. You going to hang out here in the cold until he comes, even if it takes hours?"
Defensive, Tiriana says, "Maybe. Might just sit out here all night." And she crosses her arms, like she just might do it; but even that fit of pique's short-lived tonight. Finally, unhappily, she says, "I don't need your pity."
"Why would you do a dumb thing like that?" K'del wants to know, but there's no actual malice in his words; it's all very light. "Wasn't pitying you. Sympathy, not pity. /Does/ suck. Think anyone would agree with that."
Tiriana blows out a breath, and in her most long-suffering voice, tells him, "I was being sarcastic." It earns a shake of her head, but that's all, as she frowns and casts a sideways look at him. "Well. I don't need that, either. Of course it sucks, but I still don't need anybody feeling sorry for me now."
K'del rolls his eyes, in response to that long-suffering voice, but says, only, "Of course you were. And, fine, okay. No feeling sorry for you, either. No sympathy, no empathy, no bond with human kind. Should I leave you to your loneliness, or do you want to walk back with me?"
"Not that kind of bond," agrees Tiriana, stubborn on that point; but she does stand up, her coat buttoned loosely in the process: apparently she will walk back with him, at least. "Rather have the whole damn world hate me than sitting around like a bunch of aunties talking about 'oh, poor Tiriana.'"
More shrugging for K'del; whatever, whoever, who cares. "Okay, that's fair enough, I guess. Not like I'm /actively/ feeling sorry for you. Just... it sucks." He tilts his head towards the bowl, and though for a moment it looks like he's about to offer his arm, he doens't /actually/ go that far. Instead, as he starts walking, he says, "Think it's pretty rad that you've managed, actually, doing the long distance thing, with your duties and everything as well. Kudos."
And that might actually be something less welcome than sympathy, compliments on her relationship skills. Or at the least, it earns a complete stop, just as they're getting started, and Tiriana eyes him more dubiously than ever. "Kudos. Gee, thanks, that makes it all worth it at last," she says slowly. "Not like... we don't have dragons. Ways. Stuff like that. --I like it better when you're trying to be an ass."
Laughing, despite her reaction, K'del notes, "Don't actually /try/ to be an ass, believe it or not, Tiriana." He stops soon after she does, to turn back and look at her, visibly amused. "I guess I'd just find it really hard. Given up on most of the girls I used to see who lived elsewhere. That's all. Coming?"
"Well, of course /you/ would," sniffs Tiriana. "You think with your dick." But it's matter-of-fact, and she starts walking again, catching up with him as they start in. As for being an ass-- "It just comes natural?" And she actually smirks about it.
K'del doesn't /actually/ deny this; in fact, he says, laughing again, "Sometimes, sure. Seventeen, remember?" As if either of them could forget. Back to walking, he adds, "Must do. At least to you. You bring out the ass in me, what can I say?"
Tiriana snorts. "It's a talent, what can I say." But it brings out an almost-smile in her, begrudged though it plainly is. She adds, "We were already--like this. When I was seventeen. Except, Telgar. None of this Fort shit. Or Iovniath."
"You and R'uen? Long time. Maybe that makes it easier, when you've already had the opportunity to be close to someone." Aside from a smile, K'del ignores the first part of what Tiriana says in order to respond to the rest. "If he stops being Weyrleader at some point, will you ask him to move here?"
"Yeah. It is," says Tiriana, as though she's just realizing that herself. "At least five turns, depending on when you start counting." But the musings on that end abruptly as she stares at K'del again, lets her steps falter for a moment with her incredulity. "He'd quit now, if I asked him to," she declares with utter confidence. "He won't chase again."
K'del doesn't let himself look /too/ impressed, but, well, he probably is. Five turns is a lot when you're seventeen. As her steps falter, he shifts his gaze to look at her more directly, brows raised. "He won't? So - you've talked about it? Well, that's good, right? Must care a lot about you."
"Of course we have," and Tiriana just shakes her head. Oh, the young and male, and their relationship ignorance. "We wouldn't be bothering with all this back-and-forth crap if we didn't. It's shit, not having a real home. And I can't even go most of the time--it's always something here. First Satiet's sick and then--" dead "and then the clutch and /then/ fucking raiders to deal with, too."
"Of course," repeats K'del, as though by saying it again, he'll sound as though he never doubted it. And with a smile, too! "I bet," he adds, then. "Though... there's nothing now, is there? Stopping you. If you wanted. No clutch, no raiders," he doesn't mention Satiet, but concludes, "Nothing really pressing to worry about."
"I don't trust you people," and there's that term again. "Soon as I walk out the door, you'll be messing something up and then I'll have to come deal with it all myself anyway. And Iovniath hates going, anyway--having to be a guest, leave her Weyr." A pause, and her mouth twists into another of those almost-smiles, wry though it is. "Anyway, I hate it there, too. /I'd/ be fine if Fort just fell off in the ocean one day, or something."
A pause. Not that K'del stops walking, but he doesn't answer immediately, to any of it. "As long as R'uen got out safely." And then, fast on the heals of that, "We're not so useless as all that. If you wanted to. But if you don't, well, fair enough. Cadejoth isn't all that big on leaving these days, either. So I get that."
"Exactly," agrees Tiriana, with just a hint of smugness: hey, he gets it! As for the latter, "Not completely useless? I guess." She has such faith in them. "There's still always something. Between Iovniath, the holders and the the weyrfolk all wanting a piece of me, and Milani shoving more stuff on me to handle all the time--." A shrug. "Satiet was right. You don't ever get to just... you know. Anymore."
K'del voices it: "Such faith, Tiriana! It's flattering." But he's smiling, easily enough. "Mm. Guess not. One thing after another, endless. 'With rank comes responsibility', as people always tell you. I guess. Kind of sucks."
"'Kind of,'" repeats Tiriana, shaking her head at that thought, the understatement of it. She adds, with a sideways glance at him, "They always want something. Something /more/. And then you do the best thing you can, and they bitch about that, too."
The way she repeats it just makes K'del laugh. "All right, 'really, truly, absolutely', then. I mean, I guess it makes sense, in some ways, but still... It'd be nice to get a break from it." He has nothing but nods for the rest of it, and then, "Guess most people don't really get how hard it is. Don't understand. Thinking about themselves, not about... what goes on, behind that."
"Think it's all just fun and games, being Weyrleaders," agrees Tiriana. "You get to do whatever you want, and hang 'em all if they fuck with you." And this time, she very pointedly doesn't look at K'del at all, just continues their snowy trek back to the ledge.
"Right," agrees K'del, who doesn't look at Tiriana, either, probably taking his cue from her. "Don't see any of the compromises, the repercussions, the... any of it. Just the glory." It's probably a good thing they're getting close to the ledge, now. It wouldn't do for this kind of agreement to last too much longer. "Completely misses the fucking point."
Tiriana is silent the rest of the short distance remaining, waiting until they're up the stairs and ready to part ways to turn back to him. "They wouldn't do this to Satiet," she says then. "She could hang every last fucking one of those raiders, and all anybody'd say is how they deserved it, and isn't it wonderful how they've got a Weyrwoman who'd do whatever it takes to take care of them all."
K'del hesitates visibly before he responds to that, silent and still. Then, slowly, heaving out a low breath, "She was something, wasn't she? Satiet." Never mind what he thinks of the execution, as she so well knows.
"Yeah," says Tiriana. "She was." And that, apparently, will have to do for goodbye, goodnight, because she turns then to head inside to her warm weyr.
K'del only lingers a moment, after that, watching Tiriana go. Then, he, too, turns to head into his own weyr. His expression, if she were only able to see it? Something akin to triumph.