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Post by rii on Mar 30, 2010 15:13:00 GMT -5
Arms remained crossed, fingers of his left hand running the fabric of the light shirt between the pads of his fingertips. The outward sign of his internalizing would fade soon enough, but F'lix couldn't deny that he still felt a faint flutter in his chest and shake in his limbs. He was relieved, mostly, but his mind had already moved on to new subjects for brooding. F'ur had given a very.. strong shove just a moment ago. It made F'lix believe that if he didn't keep at least half a mind, and ended up responding with a more usual hot-headed temper when something was making him overly emotional.. F'ur would just give him that shove again. Fine. Be gone. Go away.
Moving with F'ur, F'lix casually shrugged while his eyes sought out the river. Oh, he noticed well enough of how F'ur treated the knee injury – but he wasn't going to baby the man. Even if he did nag for F'ur to ease up he knew the stubborn man wouldn't listen. F'lix simply resorted to ..distractions.. for F'ur to get off the leg when F'lix had enough of F'ur's irritability when it ached too much. "More annoyed of being stuck inside with you. You get bored so easily and start prodding at me, Where's the thingy - what thingy - The thingy that was over here - Oh you mean next to all the other thingies?"
A sly curve of lips as F'lix peered side-long at his weyrmate. It seemed a never ending battle between him cleaning up the weyr and F'ur messing it up. The younger rider wasn't complaining. All dark musings and paranoias aside, he was more than happy with how things were. F'lix certainly considered himself lucky to have the older man in his life.
The topic of F'ur's fear of runners was denied a returning comment, unless a sounding snort and F'lix jerking his head away from the flick of nose counted. F'lix didn't want to prod too much at it and end up having an irritated F'ur. Real fears were nothing to laugh at.. ..even if they were really silly. Runners. As they strolled along the shaded bank of the river, F'lix reached over when it seemed F'ur had found a suitable spot. The younger's fingers found the ragged edge of tunic, an half-amused half scolding look went up to his werymate's face. "Did you really have to do that. Why didn't you just take it off?"
But he was already slinking aside to use one of the nearby trees as a leaning post. "Ghosts." He finally replied out of the blue – and it had taken him a while to think over F'ur's unexplainable fear of runners. "Never seen one, and it's silly because it's not like a ghost can hurt you.. but you can't fight it either.. " He wiggled his fingers in the air, face scrunching in a show of distaste. The little fear was just as.. ridiculous as runners, so it would be fair – yes, just in case he teased F'ur for the runners the man would have the ammunition to jab right back (not that he needed the verbal ammunition, F'ur had plenty of things to tease him about). Ghosts, a thing that a person could only fear if they constantly let their mind get carried away. Oh yes, F'lix was a natural at that. Hn.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Mar 31, 2010 0:31:34 GMT -5
"You act as if you don't have the capability to leave for an afternoon if I bother you too much," F'ur commented teasingly, shaking his head slightly to settle the hat into a more familiar position on his head. Very content the older man was at this moment. You wouldn't have thought he'd been...upset just a minute ago. Though he didn't evaluate it himself, because he wasn't someone who often dwelled on how he felt, the truth of the matter was that, for whatever reason and no matter how hard it was for F'ur to understand, the kitten wasn't at all bothered by having a broken man for a weyrmate. Which naturally led him to feel more comfortable with the situation, even though it still irked. Because, aside from his mindmates, F'lix was the most important to him. And if it didn't change anything between them, it wasn't that important, was it? Not like he was crippled or handicapped. Just...diminished a bit.
"Plus you're not giving me any credit at all. I don't call them all thingies. There is a very detailed organization that also includes thingamajigs, doodads, whatchamacallits and that shiny stuff. Might not know what they're called, but I don't think you would either, so does it really matter what name I call them by?" He poked his arm lightly. "Besides, they'd be much easier to find if you didn't keep moving them all the time. You act like my weyr has seen a tornado or something. Have you seen some of the weyrlings' weyrs around here?"
At the river. He took a few long moments to find what he was looking for...a flat rock that would easily fit both men (it wasn't like either of them were big men by any stretch of the imagination) if F'lix decided he wanted to join him. It also jutted enough over the river that F'ur could dangle his leg there and get his knee nice and soaked.
The fingers at the edge of his tunic drew the man's attention, and he chuckled at the look of annoyance on his weyrmate's face, even as he set about unbuckling the several belts he'd used around the wrap to help keep the swelling down. "Well, I could run around shirtless out in the open, with my pale northern skin that's even paler now that I've been bedridden for awhile, and get a nice lovely sunburn to help improve my mood, but I figured I'd settle for tearing off the sleeves instead." He slipped his leg into the water with a contented sigh. "An excellent suggestion. This feels wonderful." He glanced sidelong at his weyrmate. "Were you saying that you wanted me to take it off now?" he questioned, with no small amount of amusement.
Tch. F'lix-less. He tolerated it, however, considering they already spent enough time together that he really had nothing to complain about. F'ur glanced at him in open curiosity - and just a little bit of confusion. Ghosts? Where had that come from? Another blink, before he realized what the kitten was doing. He was admitting to a fear, wasn't he? A flicker of a fond smile, though F'lix wouldn't see it from that angle. "I could see why not being able to fight something could be frightening. Though I hope there's no such thing as ghosts, cause if there is, they're likely to get me," he commented, wrinkling his nose good-naturedly.
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Post by rii on Mar 31, 2010 17:23:15 GMT -5
F'lix had yet to decipher the way F'ur 'organized' the weyr, and what were the differences between thingies, thingamabobs, doodads, whatchamacallits, gizmos, whatits – just thinking about the collection of junk made F'lix's expression scrunch and a hand rubbed at the side of his nose. So what if he liked how the weyr looked when clean. He only tidied up, not like he slaved on hands and knees to scrub it spotless like a true neat freak. Besides which, he was fairly sure that the weyrlings were required to keep their weyr's clean at least until out from under the scrutiny of their weyrlingmaster.
Easing more firmly against the tree, F'lix slowly turned his upper torso side to side to itch at the back of his shoulders. The only reason he didn't pad after his weyrmate was.. the water. He wouldn't put it beyond F'ur to push him in for a good laugh (a sodden, glaring kitten seemed to be high on the man's list of amusing sights). Hn. Eyes half-lidding, F'lix feigned a look of innocence over the suggestiveness lurking beneath the forward expression. "If only to salvage what's left of the poor shirt."
It was still hot in the shade, after all. Didn't want to get the shirt wet – clearly nothing to do with perhaps wanting to watch the play of muscles beneath the skin, trace the peculiar history of scars new and old, admire the way the top hem of pants – what was left of them – rested low along the waist; nicer now that F'ur was more or less back to his normal weight. A smirk tugged at the corner of F'lix's features. No, had nothing to do with any of that.
Despite not seeing F'ur's expression, F'lix absently mirrored the wrinkling of nose. Likely ghosts didn't exist, but F'lix had seen enough men babbling about seeing the faces of the ones they killed, haunting them during the night. They believed what they saw, so it was hard to turn off that inquisitive part of F'lix considered the possibilities of such ethereals existing. "I don't think they do.. it's just that feeling you get like.. when hearing a sound and you don't find what makes it after investigating." His tongue stuck out at his weyrmate. "Of course, you'd just think someone was trying to set a trap, hm?"
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Apr 1, 2010 21:40:44 GMT -5
"That would be a shame, now wouldn't it?" he commented, not even bothering to hide the calculating edge behind his words. Gently flexing his knee, feeling the slight pull and liking it because some of the stiffness was ebbing with that simple movement, F'ur tugged off his shirt just slow enough to call into question whether it was deliberate or not - without being clear. The man's whipcord musculature, though not fully regained in his lower body, was actually further defined and developed in his arms and chest. Which only made it more clear that he'd never be the bulky sort, even if he tried. If anything they were more compact. He leaned back on his palms, tossing the shirt casually at F'lix. "Your rescuee," he stated, with no small amount of amusement.
Oh, he wished F'lix were closer. Just had to use that tree as a backscratcher, did he? Amending his earlier thoughts about runnertails, he admitted that the man with said runnertail actually had to be within range for it to work. A shame. Terror was stirring in his pocket, but the salamandyr didn’t seem particularly interested in poking his head out, even though there was no way of seeing what might be coming at him from within the pocket. Perhaps it was the heat. Despite what some might think, it was actually fairly cool in the pocket, particularly since it didn’t get much direct light where it was located.
Tongue, tongue. Rascal. He gave his weyrmate a mock stern look, sniffing mildly. “Or trying to draw me away so they could slip into the weyr unnoticed - or past me if we were outside. But most likely it would just be the sound echoing strangely. We do live in caves, you know, that empty out into a canyon.” He reclined even further back until his elbows were taking most of his weight, smirking at F’lix. “But if I heard a runner I’d probably think it was a vengeful spirit from beyond Between and try to worm my way into a much-too-small crack somewhere, so…” A simple shrug.
Casting a sidelong glance back at F’lix again, he tsked aloud. “Must you act like I’ve got the plague?”
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Post by rii on Apr 3, 2010 14:15:20 GMT -5
Deliberate or not, F'lix's eyes drifted to a near close to veil the way his gaze traced over the scars and muscle definition. Nearly a turn together had no dulling effect on F'lix's appreciation for the older rider. None at all. Admittedly he was in something of a mood, even before seeking F'ur out, but since when was he suppose to stop feeling a desire for his weyrmate just because they spent a good deal of time in each other's company? A smile curved on F'lix lips as he easily caught the shirt. With a tsking tongue F'lix held the article out for mock inspection before flipping it over a low-hanging branch.
Being difficult, wasn't he. F'lix let his eyes once again skim over his oh-so-casually reclining weyrmate. Granted, F'lix chided himself, he had ask for it. It was just a little more difficult than usual to rein back his thoughts enough to concentrate on the words being spoken. He was amused, to say the least, at how practical F'ur's mind operated to the little curiosities – simple things that would make F'lix absolutely restless – then how irrational it flopped if runners came into the equation. Luckily the beasts rarely came into play to make it an issue worth active concern.
"Echo or not, something makes the sound.." A hand extended out to the low branch and F'lix prodded Simper out from his own shirt to worm under the one draped over the limb. The blue didn't say a word, hadn't really since Aliene's death, and his lethargy made F'lix worry.. to the ridiculous point that he thought Simper would just let himself drown if a push into the river did happen. F'lix wasn't writing off the possibility. There was a definite baiting going on, at which he was willingly biting. "Most sounds are dismissible. Although hearing footsteps and not seeing anyone tends to be a bit unnerving.."
Arms once again crossed loosely over his stomach, F'lix quietly moved over the grass to stand at the edge of the flat rock. His shins brushed against the hard surface as he leaned over F'ur's reclining form . The runnertail slipped over his shoulder to hang next to his jaw as F'lix regarded the upside down view of his weyrmate. A finger ran feather-light along the brim of the hat F'ur stubbornly continued to wear. "Is that what I'm doing?"
He pushed back at the hat, slowly, to force it to slide off. "Could of sworn I was patiently letting my weyrmate soak his knee while I entertain myself with thoughts of all the wicked things I'd like to do with him. Didn't realize I was looking and treating him like he was covered in boils." Scrunching up his nose in mock disgust, F'lix again stuck out his tongue – barely out past his teeth – but the impression came off the same regardless.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Apr 4, 2010 2:33:48 GMT -5
F'ur smiled at F'lix openly, not disagreeing with him. Yes, something made the sound, though that something, when being amplified by many stony echoes, often wasn't what you would expect it to be. He'd grown accustomed to what was and what wasn't in place, as far as sounds went, such that he could sleep through things as loud as kids running down the hall shrieking happily, but a single quiet step into his weyr usually awoke him instantly. He also wasn't curious enough to go hunting for things you were unlikely to find. To hunt for the origin of a sound, you must first make an assumption as to the origin, and if that was wrong...you were pretty much up a creek right from the start.
"I'll give you that much. Don't think ghosts would make footsteps though...aren't they supposed to be ephemeral?" He made a ghosty sound, bringing up a hand to wave fingers at F'lix. His eyes narrowed as F'lix approached, the expression one of silent, almost animal pleasure. Contentedness. A F'lix to touch...he so did prefer very little distance between them. Even if all that meant lately was leaning on each other or simply lying curled together. Which he was fine with, to a point. But it was beginning to get to him; must be, considering the simple act of F'lix's approach was almost enough to spike his heartrate up like he was an untried teen again around a crush.
His head tilted back slightly, so he could see his weyrmate past the rim of his hat, hand extending up to brush along his jaw as F'lix came into range when he leaned over F'ur. His eyes slid to the runnertail. Oh, faithful runnertail, come hither. He couldn't resist the smirk, though it faded slightly at the finger moving along the brim of the hat. He grunted softly at the words, narrowing his eyes when the hat was pushed off his head in a mock show of irritation. One that would be pretty easy to see through, what with the rather - hungry - way his gaze traveled over F'lix's frame. The fingers at F'lix's jaw moved steadily toward the runnertail as the man spoke, and coiled around it when the tongue appeared between his teeth.
F'ur pulled without violence, but the pressure was definitely steady and not taking any arguments. He smirked, sucking the other man's lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on it as he sucked gently, before plundering the man's mouth with enough possessiveness that his intent had to be clear. "Thoughts are so...intangible..." he murmured, searching the younger man's eyes for a moment. He didn't often doubt himself, no, but they'd just recently had that tiff, and F'ur wasn't the type to take anything for granted. He released the braid, running his thumb along F'lix's jaw and arching his back and neck, knowing full well the display it gave his weyrmate. "Unless, that is, your hesitation is the boils," he added teasingly.
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Post by rii on Apr 5, 2010 16:42:07 GMT -5
A fan of black hair spilled out from the leather tie as the pull caused the arrangement to go askew. F'lix's hair was thin, straight, plenty of it but it didn't hold to any style other than a simple runnertail. A ruffle of hair, a firm tug, and it quickly unraveled from the careful preparation. The young rider didn't care too much at that moment. The positioning was awkward, bending over his weyrmate from behind, but F'lix was remedying that by slowly skirting along the edge of the flat boulder without once pulling away from F'ur's kiss.
Golden eyes were veering toward hazed, and tracing over the line of F'ur's neck to watch the rapid pulse thrum just beneath the warm skin. F'lix already had a knee up on the rock as his fingers touched feather-light against F'ur's neck, slowly trailing down to the clavicle. Words, he was sure he had heard something, but it took a moment before F'lix's eyes flicked back up to lock on his weyrmate's face. The hand continued to travel, the touch growing more firm the further it went; until it became fingertips scraping low along F'ur's abdomen.
F'lix growled appreciatively at F'ur's arch. The man knew he was attractive. Hard, lean – F'lix reflected that he'd have it no other way as he sought out the older man's lips for another kiss. "Maybe I should have suggested going back to the weyr to ice your knee.." The words came out in a sly, purring hush as F'lix slid a knee over – taking advantage of his weyrmate's lying form to straddle him. Not hesitation there, and clear enough he didn't care to be moving along just yet. "Hindsight." Teeth briefly met the pulse just beneath the curve of F'ur's jaw, only hard enough to earn attention. "Suppose I can share my thoughts with you, make them more tangible."
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