LOG: You Wouldn't Understand
Date: Day 24, Month 10, Turn 20
Location: K'del's Ledge/K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Yyth rescues P'ax from the lake and delivers him to K'del. Things... go badly for a while, but, eventually, a little better, when K'del stops trying to exert his authority so much.
Dragon> Perhaps an emotion she cannot name, one she's rarely feels sets a bubbling coldness into her chest which presses her to reach out to someone she knows will understand it: Concern. << Is it normal to jump into the lake with all of your clothing on, Cadejoth? >> Yyth has no clothing, and P'ax has never voluntarily jumped into the lake once the freezing starts, but maybe he will know? (Yyth to Cadejoth)
Dragon> It's amplified, that concern, because if Yyth is concerned, Cadejoth must also be, the whirl of his chains growing more rapid as he consults his rider's memories. Perhaps it's not for the best that he does not ask directly, because what he returns is an image from presumably the perspective of his own rider, jumping off the diving cliff in the company of another - Tiriana. Both freezing. But; << I don't think it's /normal/. Yyth, is he well? Is he safe? The lake is cold! >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth considers the memory. Cold, she agrees, because she can feel it even if it doesn't bother her. << I do not think he is okay, >> she decides at last. << He told Zhikath's he was not...Zhikath's left anyway. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth has no particular interest in Zhikath or his rider, but his mind bores closer, reaching for some kind of understanding in the wake of the rest of this. << He should come and see K'del, >> he decides. << Or I will make K'del come to him. Is he still in the lake? >>
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth offers somewhat more cheerfully, << I am hauling him out. He is angry that I stopped him. He thinks - I picked a bad time to start caring. >> That confuses her. Of course she cares. She /loves/ him. << I will bring him. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth's is the comfort of the confused, but determined, a brush of warmth via the embrace of his clinking chains. << Of course you care, >> he soothes. << Of course you do. We will be waiting. >> K'del knows, then, and by the faint edge against the back of Cadejoth's mind, he's not thrilled... but he's concerned, too. Such a combination.
Cadejoth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
As low to the ground as this ledge is, the view it affords is not an especially spectacular one, simply the bowl spread out in front of it, still some distance down. The ledge itself is a large one, easily big enough for a full grown queen and at least one, if not two, others, the stone worn smooth by turns and turns of steady use. A brocade curtain shelters the inner caverns from the outside.
You can hear P'ax cussing between hacking coughs even before Yyth drops him on the ledge, soggy and enraged. The back of his jacket is shredded and little bits of it are stuck in Yyth's teeth, proof that she did drag him out of the lake and...all the way across the bowl, presumably before tossing him up here and making a more careful than usual landing. << I brought him! >> announces the green proudly.
True to Cadejoth's word, K'del is waiting just outside the entrance to his weyr as the green pair arrive, one hand on Cadejoth's forelimb beside him, the other dug into his pocket against the chill. His eyes go visibly wide, and he takes several halting steps forward - and then, several more certain ones, bringing him right up to the greenrider, at which point he kneels in front of him. "The fuck are you up to?" he wants to know, though he doesn't wait for an answer, already attempting to drag him up to his feet. Cadejoth's tail reaches for Yyth's, comfortingly. << You did! >> Good Yyth, well done. << I will keep you company, while K'del deals with yours. >>
P'ax comes up swinging, a bull that's been provoked. "Let go of me, damn it!" And amid those flailings he snarls, "You're the last person I wanted to hear about this." Though how the Weyrleader's not going to hear about the drinking binges and an impromptu jump in the icy lake is practically an impossibility. Yyth scoots in to Cadejoth to soak up the warmth of his hide against her own lake-chilled one.
Some of the flailing connects, but not hard enough to cause K'del any real problems; he reaches to pin the other rider's arms, and, should he succeed in that, hold on tight. "I will not," he shoots back, as he attempts this. "And you're out of luck on that one. Give in, or I'll have you grounded until further notice." A turn in the hot seat has given him more force to his tone, though whether it has any impact-- well, that remains to be seen. Cadejoth's wing spreads over Yyth as his tail twines against hers, his mind soothing and warm. << He's going to be okay. >>
P'ax's cessation of struggle more likely has to do more with their friendship than his authority. With a grunt he lets K'del pin his arms, head hanging. Yyth sighs contently. << I know he will. Thank you. >>
His quarry pinned and no longer struggling, K'del moves to frog-march him inside, pushing past the tapestry that protects the inner weyr from the wind with a shove that doesn't slow his movements. "Get in the bath and I'll dig you up something dry to wear. It's way too late in the turn for this kind of stupidity. Go." He releases, at that point, except for a push on P'ax's pack to direct him towards the inner cavern and the bathing chamber connected to it. << Of course, >> murmurs Cadejoth, though it's almost not even formed into words, just the brush against her mind.
P'ax is mostly too humiliated to complain, but he doesn't go gleefully hopping into the bathing chamber either. He trudges, leaving wet boot prints in his wake. "Shove it, K'del." It's easier to say when you're busy feeling wronged, even if he just sounds childish. Yyth? Way content to have her Cadejoth, and be warm and snug under his wing.
"Fuck you, P'ax. What are you, suicidal?" K'del follows a few paces behind, though thankfully he doesn't look like he's about to oversee the bathing; his path veers off towards the wardrobe, where he digs out a spare set of clothes. "I don't want to have to send another rider down south for six months because they've gone and caught pneumonia."
P'ax shoots back rebelliously, "You wouldn't understand anyway." If he leaves his soaked clothing in a pile at the entrance, it's only small revenge. "Faranth, you'd think Thread was falling, who gives a shard. Just trade me out for a new model, isn't that what you do when the first one doesn't work out?"
K'del ignores the pile of clothes, laying out the clean ones he's pulled out on the bed. "Right," he says, tone dripping with scorn. "Because there's no possible way anyone could ever understand you. Woe, woe, woe." His jaw sets, clearly unhappy, but all he says to the last is, "Bullshit. I care."
P'ax was about to pop up with another spiteful comeback, but that last statement stops him in his tracks. There's a long silence from the man in the tub. Then: "I know..." He tips his head back until it leans against the rim and has nothing else to say just now.
That leaves K'del with nowhere else to go; his silence seems to suggest that he was about to carry on his own tirade, but now... Instead, he sits down on the edge of the bed, arms folded in his lap, staring at the screen that gives the bathing area privacy, as though he intends to bore through it with his gaze alone. "What's up, P'ax? Something obviously is." He's noticed, his low, sad tone implies.
Once the tingling leaves his skin and he feels reasonably body-temperature-ish, P'ax heaves himself up out of the water again and leaves it to drain. "You're going to think it's dumb. Everyone thinks it's dumb." His head appears around the screen. "Toss me some pants?" Because suddenly he's very modest?
"Let me be the judge of that," suggests K'del, tossing the pants across as requested, leaving the shirt and socks on the bed. "Clean towels on the shelf, if you need one." Now, he rises from the bed, turning back towards the main cavern. "Come out when you're ready. I'll make some klah." Which is what he does, sitting on the floor in front of the hearth, boiling the water in a pot suspended above it.
P'ax catches the pants with a mumbled thanks and goes to dry himself off. Once the borrowed pants are pulled on and he's roughed the water out of his hair with the towel he comes out to put on shirt and socks. He brings his boots with him to set next to the fireplace to dry and then settles down cross-legged. "I went to see my parents the other night."
K'del's head lifts so that he can watch the greenrider approach, eyes focused upon P'ax's face until he's sitting down - they bore even harder once he's actually spoken. After a breath, "And?" It's a good thing the pot isn't boiling yet, because he might as well have forgotten it, his attention utterly focused upon his friend.
P'ax shrugs his shoulders. "I heard a baby crying inside." Hunching forward he settles his elbows on his knees to support the chin he craddles between his hands. K'del can stare at him, he's going to stare at the fire, and the pot. "And how could I even knock, after that?"
Blink. K'del blinks. And then again. And several times more. "Why not?" He looks genuinely confused by this, the dots evidently not connecting in his brain.
P'ax is getting good at this shrugging thing; he does it again. "They didn't even tell me, you know. It explains why they packed up and went back to the Hall so quickly though." He pokes at one of his boots with his toes. "They've replaced me. They didn't even want me to /know/." Blue eyes shift aside at K'del and he adds, "Besides, I was drunk, and it was well past midnight. I /was/ going to go give that bitch a piece of my mind, but..." His head shakes and he falls silent again. "Better, this way."
Ah. The moment that K'del 'gets' it is visible in his expression, in the slightest shift of his head that resembles a nod, but in miniature. Except; "That's bullshit, you know. Both sides, I mean. Them doing that, and you just giving up. It were /me/, I'd go and see them," beat. "/sober/, that is. Find out for myself. Talk to them. Don't even know for sure until you talk to them. Could be something else." Finally, his gaze turns, inspecting the pot which still hasn't boiled. "Need to stop drinking, too." More quietly.
"Told you you wouldn't understand." P'ax says it like K'del just forgot the grocery list or something and he's only mildly disappointed. "We both know I won't, K'del. The nightmares will just come back. This has been a lovely chat, thanks and all that. I'll send your clothes back when they're cleaned." Yes, he's getting up to go.
"/Sit/." K'del's trying his Weyrleader voice again, but his expression is so sad and frustrated that it doesn't entirely work. "Need you to go and talk to Carobet. Maybe I can't help you, but I bet she can. Not going to let you just destroy yourself like this."
P'ax doesn't sit because he doesn't want to. So, um, there. "Carobet will pitch me Between herself, K'del. The last time I saw her she stood around taunting me while I was cleaning up all the furniture Yyth had chucked out of my Weyr. She pissed Yyth off so bad she chased her halfway across the Bowl trying to bite her head off /literally/. So I'm not about to lay all of my deep dark personal secrets in the hands of a cracked apprentice on a power trip. Ship me off, ground me, I'm not talking to her."
"Then talk to Carobet's Journeyman, I don't care." K'del's gaze narrows, and now, he rises to his feet as well. "Because until you do, you /are/ grounded. I'll have Iovniath and Nahalith enforce it: you can go up to your weyr to sleep, but you're not leaving the weyr, and the Snowasis won't be serving you drinks. You're fucked up, P'ax, and I'm not going to let you kill yourself because you won't let anyone help you."
P'ax lifts a hand to pass through his hair. "K'del...if I actually wanted to kill myself, there's plenty of ways to do it, and unless you're willing to break my legs, too, you can't stop me. If all the threats and bullshit about giving a damn while you're passing the buck make you feel better though, who am I to stop you? Ground her, you know she'll just scream, and she's due to go up again, two sevens, a month at most. I don't care if nobody gets any sleep, I sure as hell am not going to be sleeping."
"Yeah, because drinking yourself to death slowly is any better than jumping off a cliff or-- whatever else someone does." K'del's hands move to his hips, perhaps unconsciously, and he scowls at P'ax. "Not passing the buck. /You/ don't want to talk to me. And if you're not going to talk to me, you're sure as fuck going to talk to someone else, because I fucking care about you, and I don't want to see you like this. So either you talk to me, or you get yourself to a healer, any healer, and you work your shit out." The pot begins to boil right at this moment, but the bronzerider ignores it - perhaps he doesn't even see it.
Dragon> Perhaps she knows it already, from her own rider's thoughts, but Cadejoth seeks to soften the blow, chains seeking out through her darkness. << You aren't to fly with him, >> he tells her, sadly. << Until he works himself out. Except to take him home at night. But, >> and he stresses this, attempting some kind of enthusiasm, though really, he just sounds sad. << You can fly without him! With me. We'll fly together. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
P'ax doesn't return the anger, there's no point any more. "I'm not trying to kill myself, K'del. I'm screwed up, but I'm not that unstable." He peels up the arm of the shirt to get at an itch under it, attacking that with the ferocity that's missing in his posture. "I'll talk to you if you'll stop suggesting I go talk to those fucked up retards that spawned me. I'm better off forgetting them entirely. They've obviously forgotten me, they wrote me off the day I accepted Search." It's a lame finish, but it needs to be said: "Your water's boiling."
K'del has to pause and let himself take a few breaths before he can respond again. "You say all that, and yet you obviously care that you think they 'replaced' you. Why can't you talk to anyone? One conversation, and maybe they'd tell you straight out they don't want to see you anymore, but maybe they wouldn't. Why can't you even do that?" And then, with a sharp exhalation: "Fuck the water."
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth yawns boredly. She knows. << He's going to make it hard. I don't care. We'll go fly. He's being stupid. >> So long as /she/ gets to fly, who cares about him? He keeps giving her bad images, anyway, and it's a good thing she's so clever without him! *smug*
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth considers this for a moment, and then suggests, << Perhaps if we fly a /lot/, and do all kinds of interesting things, he'll decide he wants to talk! Because he'll be jealous. >> And, you know, if it means more flying for Cadejoth... that's good!
Flatly, P'ax says, "My mother already told me I was a disgrace and she never wanted to see me again. My father does whatever she says. Of course I care that they've replaced me. I have a baby brother or sister that I never would have known about, that I'm never going to meet. Really, K'del, just...leave it, okay? You wouldn't understand anyway. Yuor parents don't hate you. You have a big family, people who just want to /be/ with you. I have...Yyth." And if he's going to ignore the water, the greenrider will do it for him.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth doubts it, but doesn't put that into words. << We'll fly, >> she agrees instead.
"Fine. So they don't want you. What about the dreams?" Beat. "Not going to have you drinking yourself silly constantly so you can avoid having them. /Not/ going to have it, P'ax." K'del's hands are balled into fists, his expression a mask of frustration; he doesn't even shift his gaze towards the pot as the greenrider deals with it. "Fucking tired of you being miserable and mopey all the time. Bet you are, too. So fucking deal with it."
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth can no doubt sense that doubt, but he? He has confidence, which he shares in a rush of warmth. << Fly. Good. It'll be fun, Yyth! We'll see all kinds of places. >>
P'ax sets about making klah - it gives him something to do with his hands, at least. "I think they're Yyth's dreams... they're just... blood and mayhem and then blackness and I feel like I'm drowning even though there should be plenty of air." He glances over at K'del. "You think this is what works? If you shout in my face long enough I'll just flip a switch and go 'oh hey, my pitiful little life is something to be happy about!'... Yeah, makes sense to me. I /was/ happy, until Z'yi broke things off, anyway. I'm not always mopey." That's slightly defensive.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth lowers her head to rest on her paws and sighs. << Okay, Cadejoth. >> His enthuasiasm becomes a little overwhelming with Mr. Passive Aggressive over there on the other side of her brain pushing back.
Which leaves K'del standing there, looking awkward, except that he's still visibly pissed off. "Then you should be working with Meara to shut them out, or the queens should stop her from projecting them on you. Shells, P'ax, we're how many turns out of weyrlinghood now?" Beat. "And no. I don't. And yes, you are. Almost always, especially these days." The mention of Z'yi draws something of a flinch, but he continues on regardless. "You act like you hate yourself. Like you think you're worthless. Fuck that."
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth reaches his head across to rest it for just a moment atop hers, then returns it to his own paws. He'll stop; truly! If he can. It's not his fault he has that steady, constant thrum of joy at life.
P'ax just looks tired, offering one of the mugs to K'del. "I don't know what to tell you, K'del. We seem...pretty well seperated, until she goes proddy, and then she's just rushing in to show me /everything/ and then I'm not so sure, but...that's normal." A pained look crosses his face. "What do you want me to say, Kas? You want me to talk, I'm talking, so... just knock it off already. Maybe I do hate myself... I certainly don't /like/ some of the things I do."
"Except for the dreams. Or are they only when she's proddy?" K'del takes the mug, and, finally, moves to sit himself down on the couch, frowning and he continues. "Then why do you do them? If you don't like them. Just... don't /get/ it, P'ax." But the anger is gone, at least; mostly, he just sounds sad.
P'ax shakes his head. "They...started after Satiet died. They ended for awhile but then they came back. They used to just be ... getting lost Between, you know? But now it's like...pulling images out of her head and getting jumbled in with that. Not every night. But it's easier to just...drink than gamble on it. They slack off right after she flies, when we're the most..seperate. And get worse the closer she gets to going up. Never really thought about that til now though." He follows to the couch, relaxing back into it with his own mug clasped in his hands. "Why? Habit, sometimes... a way to...get what I want. Bad influences. I don't really get it either. I didn't use to be this way. Miserable, yes, manipulative, no.." Gee, take a guess on the manipulator who taught P'ax that one.
K'del's frown is more thoughtful, now, and he taps his fingers against the edge of his mug until; "Really, I would talk to Meara, or one of the Assistant Weyrlingmasters. Maybe they can help figure out a way for her to not do it. Because the drinking isn't--" he puffs out his cheeks. "It's not ideal." Beat. "Why are you miserable? And-- does it really get what you want? Really?"
P'ax stretches his legs out long in front of him and reclines back. "Maybe. I'll talk to Leova. She knows Yyth the best." His lips twitch. "Yes, it does. Most of the time. But I usually end up sabotaging myself because I feel bad about doing it in the long run." Why is he miserable though...that one's harder. "You know...with the exception of Yyth...and possibly you... everyone I've ever cared about and expected would care too has left me behind when the time was convienent. Perhaps I'm being dramatic, but I'm hard pressed to name anyone who hasn't just...signed me off."
"Good," says K'del, managing (mostly, at least) not to make it sound like an elder approving of a younger. He hesitates before remarking on the last comment, his gaze lowering towards the klah he's yet to touch. "Can you blame them? Given the way you manipulate people into getting what they want." Beat, then, hastily, "Don't mean it exactly like that. But." This is making him awkward again.
P'ax mms. "That's...recent, the getting things I want...and mostly all I want is just...sex." He heaves a sigh. "Well, it really isn't hard to get someone into bed that was mostly willing to begin with, you know? I'm not /great/ at it or anything." He sips his klah and stares off into space for awhile. "I'm not you, people don't just sneak into my bed."
"Pretty sure the people sneaking in to my bed only happened after I got this knot," points out K'del, with a rueful kind of a smile. "But. You're also... it's hard being around you. When you're being miserable, or hating on yourself, or whatever it is. And the drinking. Don't know what I'm saying, really." He waves his hand, awkwardly. "But. Something to think about, mm?" Beat, and then, finally, sighing. "Not going to ground you. This time. So long as... talk to Leova, okay? And just... try."
P'ax stares down into his klah, because that's easier. "I'll cut back..on the drinking... and I promise not to go diving off the cliff again until summer comes back around -- unless Yyth tosses me in, that's her own fault. I sort of think it's funny, anyway, but don't tell her that, okay? She'd do it more often." He stays until he's finished his klah. "I'll try, okay? And shard it, find yourself an afternoon so we can get out of this place? It's no wonder I'm gloomy when it's so gloomy around here." Oooh, weather, there's a new angle. "Thanks for...caring...K'del. It's nice...having somebody kick my ass for my own good now and then." And that's his awkward cue to get the heck out of there.
K'del's nod is firm, and with it comes a brief smile for mention of Yyth, though he doesn't verbally promise not to tell. He does say, "Promise," though it's for getting out of the weyr, not the other. "Know what you mean. Bah, autumn." And finally, as he reaches out to take the mug from P'ax just before the greenrider goes, "Always happy to, P'ax. Look after yourself." He watches after the greenrider, and, after he's gone, finally shakes his head, and gathers up the klah things to put them all away.
Location: K'del's Ledge/K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Yyth rescues P'ax from the lake and delivers him to K'del. Things... go badly for a while, but, eventually, a little better, when K'del stops trying to exert his authority so much.
Dragon> Perhaps an emotion she cannot name, one she's rarely feels sets a bubbling coldness into her chest which presses her to reach out to someone she knows will understand it: Concern. << Is it normal to jump into the lake with all of your clothing on, Cadejoth? >> Yyth has no clothing, and P'ax has never voluntarily jumped into the lake once the freezing starts, but maybe he will know? (Yyth to Cadejoth)
Dragon> It's amplified, that concern, because if Yyth is concerned, Cadejoth must also be, the whirl of his chains growing more rapid as he consults his rider's memories. Perhaps it's not for the best that he does not ask directly, because what he returns is an image from presumably the perspective of his own rider, jumping off the diving cliff in the company of another - Tiriana. Both freezing. But; << I don't think it's /normal/. Yyth, is he well? Is he safe? The lake is cold! >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth considers the memory. Cold, she agrees, because she can feel it even if it doesn't bother her. << I do not think he is okay, >> she decides at last. << He told Zhikath's he was not...Zhikath's left anyway. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth has no particular interest in Zhikath or his rider, but his mind bores closer, reaching for some kind of understanding in the wake of the rest of this. << He should come and see K'del, >> he decides. << Or I will make K'del come to him. Is he still in the lake? >>
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth offers somewhat more cheerfully, << I am hauling him out. He is angry that I stopped him. He thinks - I picked a bad time to start caring. >> That confuses her. Of course she cares. She /loves/ him. << I will bring him. >>
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth's is the comfort of the confused, but determined, a brush of warmth via the embrace of his clinking chains. << Of course you care, >> he soothes. << Of course you do. We will be waiting. >> K'del knows, then, and by the faint edge against the back of Cadejoth's mind, he's not thrilled... but he's concerned, too. Such a combination.
Cadejoth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
As low to the ground as this ledge is, the view it affords is not an especially spectacular one, simply the bowl spread out in front of it, still some distance down. The ledge itself is a large one, easily big enough for a full grown queen and at least one, if not two, others, the stone worn smooth by turns and turns of steady use. A brocade curtain shelters the inner caverns from the outside.
You can hear P'ax cussing between hacking coughs even before Yyth drops him on the ledge, soggy and enraged. The back of his jacket is shredded and little bits of it are stuck in Yyth's teeth, proof that she did drag him out of the lake and...all the way across the bowl, presumably before tossing him up here and making a more careful than usual landing. << I brought him! >> announces the green proudly.
True to Cadejoth's word, K'del is waiting just outside the entrance to his weyr as the green pair arrive, one hand on Cadejoth's forelimb beside him, the other dug into his pocket against the chill. His eyes go visibly wide, and he takes several halting steps forward - and then, several more certain ones, bringing him right up to the greenrider, at which point he kneels in front of him. "The fuck are you up to?" he wants to know, though he doesn't wait for an answer, already attempting to drag him up to his feet. Cadejoth's tail reaches for Yyth's, comfortingly. << You did! >> Good Yyth, well done. << I will keep you company, while K'del deals with yours. >>
P'ax comes up swinging, a bull that's been provoked. "Let go of me, damn it!" And amid those flailings he snarls, "You're the last person I wanted to hear about this." Though how the Weyrleader's not going to hear about the drinking binges and an impromptu jump in the icy lake is practically an impossibility. Yyth scoots in to Cadejoth to soak up the warmth of his hide against her own lake-chilled one.
Some of the flailing connects, but not hard enough to cause K'del any real problems; he reaches to pin the other rider's arms, and, should he succeed in that, hold on tight. "I will not," he shoots back, as he attempts this. "And you're out of luck on that one. Give in, or I'll have you grounded until further notice." A turn in the hot seat has given him more force to his tone, though whether it has any impact-- well, that remains to be seen. Cadejoth's wing spreads over Yyth as his tail twines against hers, his mind soothing and warm. << He's going to be okay. >>
P'ax's cessation of struggle more likely has to do more with their friendship than his authority. With a grunt he lets K'del pin his arms, head hanging. Yyth sighs contently. << I know he will. Thank you. >>
His quarry pinned and no longer struggling, K'del moves to frog-march him inside, pushing past the tapestry that protects the inner weyr from the wind with a shove that doesn't slow his movements. "Get in the bath and I'll dig you up something dry to wear. It's way too late in the turn for this kind of stupidity. Go." He releases, at that point, except for a push on P'ax's pack to direct him towards the inner cavern and the bathing chamber connected to it. << Of course, >> murmurs Cadejoth, though it's almost not even formed into words, just the brush against her mind.
P'ax is mostly too humiliated to complain, but he doesn't go gleefully hopping into the bathing chamber either. He trudges, leaving wet boot prints in his wake. "Shove it, K'del." It's easier to say when you're busy feeling wronged, even if he just sounds childish. Yyth? Way content to have her Cadejoth, and be warm and snug under his wing.
"Fuck you, P'ax. What are you, suicidal?" K'del follows a few paces behind, though thankfully he doesn't look like he's about to oversee the bathing; his path veers off towards the wardrobe, where he digs out a spare set of clothes. "I don't want to have to send another rider down south for six months because they've gone and caught pneumonia."
P'ax shoots back rebelliously, "You wouldn't understand anyway." If he leaves his soaked clothing in a pile at the entrance, it's only small revenge. "Faranth, you'd think Thread was falling, who gives a shard. Just trade me out for a new model, isn't that what you do when the first one doesn't work out?"
K'del ignores the pile of clothes, laying out the clean ones he's pulled out on the bed. "Right," he says, tone dripping with scorn. "Because there's no possible way anyone could ever understand you. Woe, woe, woe." His jaw sets, clearly unhappy, but all he says to the last is, "Bullshit. I care."
P'ax was about to pop up with another spiteful comeback, but that last statement stops him in his tracks. There's a long silence from the man in the tub. Then: "I know..." He tips his head back until it leans against the rim and has nothing else to say just now.
That leaves K'del with nowhere else to go; his silence seems to suggest that he was about to carry on his own tirade, but now... Instead, he sits down on the edge of the bed, arms folded in his lap, staring at the screen that gives the bathing area privacy, as though he intends to bore through it with his gaze alone. "What's up, P'ax? Something obviously is." He's noticed, his low, sad tone implies.
Once the tingling leaves his skin and he feels reasonably body-temperature-ish, P'ax heaves himself up out of the water again and leaves it to drain. "You're going to think it's dumb. Everyone thinks it's dumb." His head appears around the screen. "Toss me some pants?" Because suddenly he's very modest?
"Let me be the judge of that," suggests K'del, tossing the pants across as requested, leaving the shirt and socks on the bed. "Clean towels on the shelf, if you need one." Now, he rises from the bed, turning back towards the main cavern. "Come out when you're ready. I'll make some klah." Which is what he does, sitting on the floor in front of the hearth, boiling the water in a pot suspended above it.
P'ax catches the pants with a mumbled thanks and goes to dry himself off. Once the borrowed pants are pulled on and he's roughed the water out of his hair with the towel he comes out to put on shirt and socks. He brings his boots with him to set next to the fireplace to dry and then settles down cross-legged. "I went to see my parents the other night."
K'del's head lifts so that he can watch the greenrider approach, eyes focused upon P'ax's face until he's sitting down - they bore even harder once he's actually spoken. After a breath, "And?" It's a good thing the pot isn't boiling yet, because he might as well have forgotten it, his attention utterly focused upon his friend.
P'ax shrugs his shoulders. "I heard a baby crying inside." Hunching forward he settles his elbows on his knees to support the chin he craddles between his hands. K'del can stare at him, he's going to stare at the fire, and the pot. "And how could I even knock, after that?"
Blink. K'del blinks. And then again. And several times more. "Why not?" He looks genuinely confused by this, the dots evidently not connecting in his brain.
P'ax is getting good at this shrugging thing; he does it again. "They didn't even tell me, you know. It explains why they packed up and went back to the Hall so quickly though." He pokes at one of his boots with his toes. "They've replaced me. They didn't even want me to /know/." Blue eyes shift aside at K'del and he adds, "Besides, I was drunk, and it was well past midnight. I /was/ going to go give that bitch a piece of my mind, but..." His head shakes and he falls silent again. "Better, this way."
Ah. The moment that K'del 'gets' it is visible in his expression, in the slightest shift of his head that resembles a nod, but in miniature. Except; "That's bullshit, you know. Both sides, I mean. Them doing that, and you just giving up. It were /me/, I'd go and see them," beat. "/sober/, that is. Find out for myself. Talk to them. Don't even know for sure until you talk to them. Could be something else." Finally, his gaze turns, inspecting the pot which still hasn't boiled. "Need to stop drinking, too." More quietly.
"Told you you wouldn't understand." P'ax says it like K'del just forgot the grocery list or something and he's only mildly disappointed. "We both know I won't, K'del. The nightmares will just come back. This has been a lovely chat, thanks and all that. I'll send your clothes back when they're cleaned." Yes, he's getting up to go.
"/Sit/." K'del's trying his Weyrleader voice again, but his expression is so sad and frustrated that it doesn't entirely work. "Need you to go and talk to Carobet. Maybe I can't help you, but I bet she can. Not going to let you just destroy yourself like this."
P'ax doesn't sit because he doesn't want to. So, um, there. "Carobet will pitch me Between herself, K'del. The last time I saw her she stood around taunting me while I was cleaning up all the furniture Yyth had chucked out of my Weyr. She pissed Yyth off so bad she chased her halfway across the Bowl trying to bite her head off /literally/. So I'm not about to lay all of my deep dark personal secrets in the hands of a cracked apprentice on a power trip. Ship me off, ground me, I'm not talking to her."
"Then talk to Carobet's Journeyman, I don't care." K'del's gaze narrows, and now, he rises to his feet as well. "Because until you do, you /are/ grounded. I'll have Iovniath and Nahalith enforce it: you can go up to your weyr to sleep, but you're not leaving the weyr, and the Snowasis won't be serving you drinks. You're fucked up, P'ax, and I'm not going to let you kill yourself because you won't let anyone help you."
P'ax lifts a hand to pass through his hair. "K'del...if I actually wanted to kill myself, there's plenty of ways to do it, and unless you're willing to break my legs, too, you can't stop me. If all the threats and bullshit about giving a damn while you're passing the buck make you feel better though, who am I to stop you? Ground her, you know she'll just scream, and she's due to go up again, two sevens, a month at most. I don't care if nobody gets any sleep, I sure as hell am not going to be sleeping."
"Yeah, because drinking yourself to death slowly is any better than jumping off a cliff or-- whatever else someone does." K'del's hands move to his hips, perhaps unconsciously, and he scowls at P'ax. "Not passing the buck. /You/ don't want to talk to me. And if you're not going to talk to me, you're sure as fuck going to talk to someone else, because I fucking care about you, and I don't want to see you like this. So either you talk to me, or you get yourself to a healer, any healer, and you work your shit out." The pot begins to boil right at this moment, but the bronzerider ignores it - perhaps he doesn't even see it.
Dragon> Perhaps she knows it already, from her own rider's thoughts, but Cadejoth seeks to soften the blow, chains seeking out through her darkness. << You aren't to fly with him, >> he tells her, sadly. << Until he works himself out. Except to take him home at night. But, >> and he stresses this, attempting some kind of enthusiasm, though really, he just sounds sad. << You can fly without him! With me. We'll fly together. >> (Cadejoth to Yyth)
P'ax doesn't return the anger, there's no point any more. "I'm not trying to kill myself, K'del. I'm screwed up, but I'm not that unstable." He peels up the arm of the shirt to get at an itch under it, attacking that with the ferocity that's missing in his posture. "I'll talk to you if you'll stop suggesting I go talk to those fucked up retards that spawned me. I'm better off forgetting them entirely. They've obviously forgotten me, they wrote me off the day I accepted Search." It's a lame finish, but it needs to be said: "Your water's boiling."
K'del has to pause and let himself take a few breaths before he can respond again. "You say all that, and yet you obviously care that you think they 'replaced' you. Why can't you talk to anyone? One conversation, and maybe they'd tell you straight out they don't want to see you anymore, but maybe they wouldn't. Why can't you even do that?" And then, with a sharp exhalation: "Fuck the water."
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth yawns boredly. She knows. << He's going to make it hard. I don't care. We'll go fly. He's being stupid. >> So long as /she/ gets to fly, who cares about him? He keeps giving her bad images, anyway, and it's a good thing she's so clever without him! *smug*
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth considers this for a moment, and then suggests, << Perhaps if we fly a /lot/, and do all kinds of interesting things, he'll decide he wants to talk! Because he'll be jealous. >> And, you know, if it means more flying for Cadejoth... that's good!
Flatly, P'ax says, "My mother already told me I was a disgrace and she never wanted to see me again. My father does whatever she says. Of course I care that they've replaced me. I have a baby brother or sister that I never would have known about, that I'm never going to meet. Really, K'del, just...leave it, okay? You wouldn't understand anyway. Yuor parents don't hate you. You have a big family, people who just want to /be/ with you. I have...Yyth." And if he's going to ignore the water, the greenrider will do it for him.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth doubts it, but doesn't put that into words. << We'll fly, >> she agrees instead.
"Fine. So they don't want you. What about the dreams?" Beat. "Not going to have you drinking yourself silly constantly so you can avoid having them. /Not/ going to have it, P'ax." K'del's hands are balled into fists, his expression a mask of frustration; he doesn't even shift his gaze towards the pot as the greenrider deals with it. "Fucking tired of you being miserable and mopey all the time. Bet you are, too. So fucking deal with it."
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth can no doubt sense that doubt, but he? He has confidence, which he shares in a rush of warmth. << Fly. Good. It'll be fun, Yyth! We'll see all kinds of places. >>
P'ax sets about making klah - it gives him something to do with his hands, at least. "I think they're Yyth's dreams... they're just... blood and mayhem and then blackness and I feel like I'm drowning even though there should be plenty of air." He glances over at K'del. "You think this is what works? If you shout in my face long enough I'll just flip a switch and go 'oh hey, my pitiful little life is something to be happy about!'... Yeah, makes sense to me. I /was/ happy, until Z'yi broke things off, anyway. I'm not always mopey." That's slightly defensive.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Yyth lowers her head to rest on her paws and sighs. << Okay, Cadejoth. >> His enthuasiasm becomes a little overwhelming with Mr. Passive Aggressive over there on the other side of her brain pushing back.
Which leaves K'del standing there, looking awkward, except that he's still visibly pissed off. "Then you should be working with Meara to shut them out, or the queens should stop her from projecting them on you. Shells, P'ax, we're how many turns out of weyrlinghood now?" Beat. "And no. I don't. And yes, you are. Almost always, especially these days." The mention of Z'yi draws something of a flinch, but he continues on regardless. "You act like you hate yourself. Like you think you're worthless. Fuck that."
Dragon> To Yyth, Cadejoth reaches his head across to rest it for just a moment atop hers, then returns it to his own paws. He'll stop; truly! If he can. It's not his fault he has that steady, constant thrum of joy at life.
P'ax just looks tired, offering one of the mugs to K'del. "I don't know what to tell you, K'del. We seem...pretty well seperated, until she goes proddy, and then she's just rushing in to show me /everything/ and then I'm not so sure, but...that's normal." A pained look crosses his face. "What do you want me to say, Kas? You want me to talk, I'm talking, so... just knock it off already. Maybe I do hate myself... I certainly don't /like/ some of the things I do."
"Except for the dreams. Or are they only when she's proddy?" K'del takes the mug, and, finally, moves to sit himself down on the couch, frowning and he continues. "Then why do you do them? If you don't like them. Just... don't /get/ it, P'ax." But the anger is gone, at least; mostly, he just sounds sad.
P'ax shakes his head. "They...started after Satiet died. They ended for awhile but then they came back. They used to just be ... getting lost Between, you know? But now it's like...pulling images out of her head and getting jumbled in with that. Not every night. But it's easier to just...drink than gamble on it. They slack off right after she flies, when we're the most..seperate. And get worse the closer she gets to going up. Never really thought about that til now though." He follows to the couch, relaxing back into it with his own mug clasped in his hands. "Why? Habit, sometimes... a way to...get what I want. Bad influences. I don't really get it either. I didn't use to be this way. Miserable, yes, manipulative, no.." Gee, take a guess on the manipulator who taught P'ax that one.
K'del's frown is more thoughtful, now, and he taps his fingers against the edge of his mug until; "Really, I would talk to Meara, or one of the Assistant Weyrlingmasters. Maybe they can help figure out a way for her to not do it. Because the drinking isn't--" he puffs out his cheeks. "It's not ideal." Beat. "Why are you miserable? And-- does it really get what you want? Really?"
P'ax stretches his legs out long in front of him and reclines back. "Maybe. I'll talk to Leova. She knows Yyth the best." His lips twitch. "Yes, it does. Most of the time. But I usually end up sabotaging myself because I feel bad about doing it in the long run." Why is he miserable though...that one's harder. "You know...with the exception of Yyth...and possibly you... everyone I've ever cared about and expected would care too has left me behind when the time was convienent. Perhaps I'm being dramatic, but I'm hard pressed to name anyone who hasn't just...signed me off."
"Good," says K'del, managing (mostly, at least) not to make it sound like an elder approving of a younger. He hesitates before remarking on the last comment, his gaze lowering towards the klah he's yet to touch. "Can you blame them? Given the way you manipulate people into getting what they want." Beat, then, hastily, "Don't mean it exactly like that. But." This is making him awkward again.
P'ax mms. "That's...recent, the getting things I want...and mostly all I want is just...sex." He heaves a sigh. "Well, it really isn't hard to get someone into bed that was mostly willing to begin with, you know? I'm not /great/ at it or anything." He sips his klah and stares off into space for awhile. "I'm not you, people don't just sneak into my bed."
"Pretty sure the people sneaking in to my bed only happened after I got this knot," points out K'del, with a rueful kind of a smile. "But. You're also... it's hard being around you. When you're being miserable, or hating on yourself, or whatever it is. And the drinking. Don't know what I'm saying, really." He waves his hand, awkwardly. "But. Something to think about, mm?" Beat, and then, finally, sighing. "Not going to ground you. This time. So long as... talk to Leova, okay? And just... try."
P'ax stares down into his klah, because that's easier. "I'll cut back..on the drinking... and I promise not to go diving off the cliff again until summer comes back around -- unless Yyth tosses me in, that's her own fault. I sort of think it's funny, anyway, but don't tell her that, okay? She'd do it more often." He stays until he's finished his klah. "I'll try, okay? And shard it, find yourself an afternoon so we can get out of this place? It's no wonder I'm gloomy when it's so gloomy around here." Oooh, weather, there's a new angle. "Thanks for...caring...K'del. It's nice...having somebody kick my ass for my own good now and then." And that's his awkward cue to get the heck out of there.
K'del's nod is firm, and with it comes a brief smile for mention of Yyth, though he doesn't verbally promise not to tell. He does say, "Promise," though it's for getting out of the weyr, not the other. "Know what you mean. Bah, autumn." And finally, as he reaches out to take the mug from P'ax just before the greenrider goes, "Always happy to, P'ax. Look after yourself." He watches after the greenrider, and, after he's gone, finally shakes his head, and gathers up the klah things to put them all away.