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Post by glamourie on Feb 23, 2010 19:44:59 GMT -5
It was fortunate that he had very steady hands. Required for surgical procedure, really. When the syringe was offered to him, R’wign gently took it from M’ta and attached it to the needlethorn. Then he put it against the inside of his elbow and gave himself an injection of the fellis within. The needlethorn was removed and tossed into the nearest trash bin, and then he tossed the syringe to the nearest table. It would need to be put away properly later, but he didn’t feel up to it at that moment, not with his side searing in pain. At least it was diminishing, and it wouldn’t take long before the fellis kicked in enough for him to function properly, or so he told himself. The healer shuddered slightly and turned his head to the side as M’ta spoke, and then he leaned against his weyrmate’s shoulder. Clothes probably would help, but he wasn’t sure he was up to dressing, since moving pulled on his very sore side. He didn’t point that out though; best not to smear it in M’ta’s face how uncomfortable he was. His weyrmate wouldn’t appreciate the reminder.
“There’s some candles in the trunk. They’ll get rid of the smell, if you want to burn them,” the healer said softly; he understood not liking the smell of burning flesh. It was one of the few smells that actually bothered him. R’wign was prone to keeping candles and other assorted fragrant things to be burnt in their weyr because he was a very smell-oriented person – he had to be around pleasant smells after spending entire days in the infirmary. And he was generally very good at locating things that made smells linger. Perks of being an herbalist.
Being picked up was a decidedly strange sensation – no one had done it in turns – and R’wign blinked before flinging his arms up and around M’ta’s neck to balance himself out. At that exact moment, a very loud squeak escaped him from surprise and pink colored his cheeks. The healer buried his face into M’ta’s chest to hide how strongly he was blushing. When they reached the bed, the blush had mostly faded and he lounged backwards, comfortably relaxing onto and under the blankets that provided an immediate sense of warmth. Snuggle, snuggle. He just hoped M’ta was nice enough not to comment on the squeak (he wouldn’t have been). He wasn’t used to being picked up. Usually he did the picking up since he was larger than M’ta (height-wise, anyway; for his height, M’ta was definitely more muscular than he was).
M’ta’s question caught him off-guard and R’wign let his confusion show. Didn’t know anything – but – he’d given him the stories? They were everything. His life wasn’t that interesting. As much as he’d have loved to say otherwise, R’wign thought himself highly boring.
“What do you want to know, lover?” he asked softly. “It’s easier if you give me specific examples… I don’t really… do well with talking about myself.” He needed guidance of what exactly it was that his beloved weyrmate wanted to know, if he was going to do it. R’wign was not at all averse to telling M’ta anything, he just wasn’t good at talking about himself. By instinct, R’wign tended to keep everything to himself. “I think you know much more about me than you give yourself credit for. My past is quite uneventful, I’m afraid you’ll find. The stories make them at least sound interesting – which is saying something since most of them are boring.” He tugged M’ta by the wrists over on top of him and smiled slightly. “But I’ll tell you anything you want to know if you can be more specific.”
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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 Feb 23, 2010 23:38:43 GMT -5
A squeal. It was...well, amusing, even under these circumstances, though R'wign couldn't see the expression on M'ta's face with his own buried into the smaller man's chest like it was. He elected not to make mention of it. Now. Of course, if R'wign felt the need to pull it out that M'ta sometimes squeaked when surprised, the ammunition was there and at the ready. A good thing.
He might have taken him up on the candles, but right now he preferred just touching, feeling R'wign and knowing he was alive and healthy by the pulse beneath his skin. (Which was one of the reasons he always slept draped partially over his weyrmate. Paranoid much?)
R'wign's answer, however, drew out a light frown from M'ta. Not interesting? Fishing, a small hold where people didn't kill one another as a way of life or deal in human trafficking, siblings, parents...all of these things he really had no knowledge of. To him they were very interesting, though of course most of those topics were somewhat taboo with R'wign. It saddened him, really, because he never felt like he had a right to delve into those things, not when they were so likely to upset his weyrmate.
Yielding to the pull on his wrists, he curled on R'wign's chest, nuzzling against the man's neck with a soft sigh. "Tell me about Nerat and the trees, the ocean. What it was like to grow up there, away from large holds and all the filth. Selenitas is rich and beautiful, but it's still not the same." He figured this was at least a moderately safe topic, and brushed his cheek against R'wign's. "Please. Even the simplest little things...I want to picture it."
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Post by glamourie on Feb 24, 2010 0:24:02 GMT -5
What an odd question. It was also one that he didn’t know how to answer immediately, in part because he hadn’t been back to Nerat in turns. R’wign crinkled his nose slightly, winding one arm around M’ta’s chest to relax himself as he rested his head back on the pillows. His eye fell closed as he tried to picture in his mind’s eye the small hold that he’d grown up in – everything from the tiny bed he’d occupied to the smell of the sea. Some parts were more familiar than others. Some parts were also easier to remember, emotionally, than others. It was strange to him that M’ta would want to know anything about those days – it wasn’t anything he thought about much. But if that was what he wanted to know… R’wign would not deny him, even if he thought it a very strange line of questions.
“The hold I’m from – it’s really small. Coastal. You ever been to Southern Hold? It’s a lot like that, only instead of being constructed from wood, it’s old fashioned, built like most holds in the north are, of stone. It’s located in the face of a cliff, kinda like Selenitas is, only instead of looking out on a river, it looks out directly onto the ocean. When you walk outside, you immediately step onto wooden planks over the sand. They make up a deck walkway that connects to the docks where all of our ships were stored – and we had a lot of them. Fishing village and all. Everything from big fishing vessels to small ones that rarely left the cove. The smell of the sea – it carried, y’know? You could always smell the ocean inside, and the wind kept the temperatures a little more moderate. It always felt like summertime though. We didn’t really have seasons – always warm, always tropical, a lot like it is here. I think it’s actually warmer in Nerat where I’m from because it’s closer to the equator though…”
It was strange to think back that far and R’wign could vividly remember, almost as if it were the day before, the feeling of the sand between his toes and falling in it; very odd. He stroked M’ta’s hair and crinkled his nose.
“When the tide got high, we had to actually be careful and sandbag the outside of the hold, to make sure none of the water flooded in. It never did, but it was always a worry that we had. We also used to be scared, y’know, of sea storms. They’d make the water dangerous and I remember we had a bad one when I was little – my mother had to keep me and my sister from panicking because we could hear the wind howling from the sea. It was frightening.” He’d been hysterical. R’wign was scared of storms until he’d run away from home – and then he’d forcibly had to get over it by being caught out in them for so long. At present, he actually loved the sound of rain, as it was very relaxing to him. Nothing better than curling up on the couch with a blanket, the couch turned to face the ledge, and watching the rain fall in the canyon. He relaxed really well with that kind of atmosphere.
“The children used to play on the beach or at the forest’s edge. If you went directly south of the Hold I lived in, you’d reach the edge of the jungle nearby. Since felines are southern exclusively, it wasn’t that dangerous to run around climbing the trees, and some of them were exotic – things you just don’t see, even here at Selenitas. Most of the trees were big – some of the biggest around – and the canopy spread to make gorgeous shade. I liked to venture into the jungle, where the roots and grass, vines and bushes actually covered the ground and made it colorful. In the springtime, when it was windy, the leaves and flowers from the jungle would blow out onto the beach and the white sands would be covered in the prettiest shades ever. The smell used to get mixed up with the salty scent of the sea – it’s kind of hard to describe, but it’s one of the most vivid things about Nerat that I can remember. Sitting on the fallen trees on the beach with Religna cleaning out shells to make jewelry out of to sell at Gathers – that’s one of the things we used to do all the time.”
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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 Feb 24, 2010 0:50:38 GMT -5
The jitters that still persisted - even though they were pretty minimal and unlikely to be noticed, even this close - faded as R'wign spoke. M'ta found himself listening to the tone behind the words, feeling the draw of breath in the pauses, and his eyes fell closed as he attempted to visualize this place. It sounded like...well, like paradise to him. A small little out of the way place built into the cliffs, where you could always see and smell the sea and the worst thing you had to worry about were storms. He couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like, to grow up there, to actually get a chance to run around and play and...be a child. With siblings. And a family that loved you. That you knew.
How nice it would be, to go into the jungle without fear of felines, or people who made riders and drudges alike disappear into thin air without a trace. Free to enjoy the shade and the leaves, the colors and the scents - without anything to detract from it. He would have loved that place, he thought. Or perhaps not. Perhaps, without knowing anything different, it wouldn't have seemed special at all. He'd like to think he would have appreciated it, though.
Nuzzling against him, he cracked open an eye as R'wign's words drew to a close. There was pain here, too, though he didn't hear it in his weyrmate's voice. Not yet. Religna was part of Nerat. Still, he couldn't stop himself from making the request, for the simple reason that he wanted to see just where his weyrmate had come from. (Nevermind that he'd never consider granting R'wign the same courtesy. Nerat and Bitra were worlds apart, and people could call him a hypocrite as much as they wanted; he wasn't risking that. Not that it was likely R'wign would want to see Bitra for himself.)
"I'd like to go there, if you ever want to. With you. To see these things," he murmured quietly. And left it at that. Because he didn't make a habit of pushing his weyrmate unless it was something that needed to be done, and this was merely a desire, even if he knew it to be a strong one. "Don't like boats, though. They're so confined, and then there's just water," he added, with a small shiver. No, he really didn't like boats. In fact, the row boats almost made him nervous, even...only the fact that he could see the other bank allowed him to get in one at all.
R'wign would probably think him silly for being afraid of boats. (And that's what it was, even if he'd phrased it much more mildly.) Everyone has their odd things, though, or so M'ta told himself defensively.
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Post by glamourie on Feb 24, 2010 3:48:32 GMT -5
… did he want to go back to Nerat? Part of him did. Part of R’wign wondered, strongly, how his mother was doing. A lot of him wanted to ask her about – about R’ahre, what she knew whether or not it was possible they really were related (the appearance was too strong for them not to be). He wanted, also, to let his mother know that he was okay. Even if she hated him, she deserved to know that… since she’d undoubtedly found out about Religna; he believed that Kaegan kept her promise of sending word to her. Yes, if he could, he’d have loved to go back to see his mother. The problem was that Nerat meant more than just her. It meant facing his father, facing his past, facing the knowledge that he’d run away from his home and the first responsibilities and obligations that he’d ever known. He didn’t run from responsibility anymore, but Nerat to him was a reminder of what a disappointment he was to some people – and the thought terrified him. That was his single greatest fear… and going back to Nerat was facing that directly. It was facing his family, his history, and everything that he was. And he wasn’t sure that he could.
He was positive that he wouldn’t be welcomed back with open arms, in any case. His father definitely was not someone who forgave a slight, and his only son running away was a very, very large slight. R’wign resisted the urge to shift underneath M’ta and instead looked down at him seriously.
“In the stories, I edited them down. I didn’t say why I left, did I?” No – he hadn’t. It was alluded to in the belief that he was helping someone, but not the full details. “My father wanted me to be a fisherman. Fishercraft was in the family – it was a big deal. I was his only son, so it made sense for me to take up the craft when I came of age. Except I hated fishing. I hate fishing still. I fought it… and because I was his only son and his heir, he took his anger at me out on my mother and my sister. It’s not that odd, for the north, I mean – he wasn’t bad compared to most things there, but his actions, to these Southerners, would be horrifying. Y’know?” He tilted his head slightly to try and look at his weyrmate better. “I was her older brother and it was my job to protect Li. So, I left. I thought if I left, my father couldn’t ever justify hurting her, and he wasn’t the type of man to raise a hand to anyone unless he had a very good reason. And he didn’t, after I left. Religna said he fell into a bad depression. I was eight, though. I ran away from home, and all the responsibilities I had to my family. I don’t think I’m welcome back there these days.”
Of course, he might’ve been reading into everything too much. Ironically enough, he held no resentment toward his father, though talking about it made him voice some of his thoughts, “I’d like to go back. I want to talk to my mother… about R’ahre. When I was younger, there were all sorts of rumors…” He brought one hand up to rub his nose. “Rumors that I wasn’t my father’s son; that my mother had an affair and I was the product. As a kid, you get mad at that sort of thing – you don’t insult someone’s mother that way, and you don’t say someone’s father isn’t their father. I didn’t think anything of it, either – not for turns; not until I saw R’ahre.” His eye fell closed and he exhaled softly. “I want to know if… if there’s a chance he really is my brother. If we have the same father. Not that it matters; the kid doesn’t seem like the family type. It’d be nice to know, though – since we get mistaken for each other so often…”
He didn’t think he looked all that much like R’ahre. In fact, R’wign saw only superficial resemblances at best. However, numerous people had mistaken them – and it couldn’t be coincidence. K’lir swore up and down that they looked almost identical, in fact (although the green weyrlingrider insisted that R’ahre wasn’t nearly as fun to be around, primarily because he was bratty). If there was a possibility… R’wign wanted to know. Part of him wanted it to be true. Even if the kid was horrible, the prospect of having one sibling left that he could potentially not fail, was almost overwhelming. Sentimental, but true.
“All that aside, I’d take you if only to let you see the flowers on the beach in the spring, if not for one major hitch that you seem to have forgotten.” Almost wryly, R’wign stroked a circle on M’ta’s back. “I can’t go between, lover, and Nerat is way too far to fly straight.”
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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 Feb 27, 2010 0:35:09 GMT -5
Kind of a sensitive topic. They all seemed to be sensitive, when it came to talking about R'wign's past. (M'ta actually didn't have that much trouble talking about his...aside from a few parts. He usually didn't mention it because R'wign didn't seem to want to know. Pretty much every question that had been asked was the result of something going on now. 'Why?' was a common question for the healer. Of course, that meant he probably had a much darker picture than reality. M'ta hadn't hated his life, most of it. Claiming that growing up in Bitra was all bad and there was never any joy to be found? Complete bullshit.) Still, the smaller man didn't regret asking the question he had, or commention. For one, R'wign well knew that he didn't have to answer or respond...so M'ta wasn't going to take responsibility for that.
Watching R'wign's face carefully, M'ta found that he really...was getting a little lost. Not completely. The facts, of course, were clear. Only son. Wanted him to be a fisher. Son didn't want it. Father took out frustrations on wife and daughter. But...the causality of the whole thing escaped him. He really hadn't been subjected to anything remotely like the passing on of an inheritance or skills or anything of that nature, so why it should be so important, or why the anger would be redirected at the females was beyond him. R'wign spoke of it as if it was obvious. (Of course he understood that women had less value as far as the north was concerned, but the assertion that R'wign's father was a good man when he would do that? It simply didn't compute. If the woman you joined was like a weyrmate...he couldn't imagine physically taking his anger out on R'wign when someone else angered him. Honestly, physically taking his anger out on R'wign was highly unlikely anyway. Possible, but probably only in the form of a single punch. M'ta didn't make a habit of hitting people, for all his posturing.)
The brownrider snorted quietly, rounding his shoulders into his weyrmate's touch. "Then your experiments holding your breath didn't work out?" Not supposed to know about that, probably, and R'wign likely had been doing it a long time before he found out. But there were far too many eyes in this weyr not to notice something and it eventually get back to M'ta through one channel or another. He tended to assume that if R'wign didn't tell him about it there was a reason, and he didn't see the harm in it. Checkoth was right there, after all. And if he could manage to hold his breath, going Between was a possibility, something M'ta wouldn't deny R'wign as long as it wasn't likely to kill him. (Rather attached to his weyrmate, he was.) "I can help you increase that time, probably, if it's still not enough. Not to get you to come with me to Nerat, mind, but you know...I'm sure Checkoth would love being able to fly with a wing again if we could pull it off."
He cuddled closer, carefully avoiding the side he'd carved up. "I'd say it's very likely R'ahre's related to you. You're hotter, of course, and not nearly as annoying...but he resembles you enough at a glance that it saved him from taking a knife through the eye, so..." M'ta was getting better, yes, but his reactions to men coming at him from behind and grabbing him still tended to be swift and violent. His resemblance to R'wign truly had saved him, on an entirely subconscious level.
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Post by glamourie on Mar 1, 2010 1:19:09 GMT -5
“You weren’t supposed to know about that.” But R’wign wasn’t terribly surprised that M’ta did. Truthfully, the Healer tended to expect that if Checkoth didn’t tattle, one of M’ta’s mindmates would – they weren’t exactly innocent. For Check to keep secrets from Behruth was rare, though. Sometimes R’wign questioned who his mindmate was more loyal to – him or Ruth. Though he intellectually knew that Checkoth’s love for him was unfailing, unquestionable, and certainly incomparable, the loyalty his dragon expressed toward the other brown wasn’t just surprising; it was staggering. Most dragons, to his knowledge, forgot about their clutchmates not long after graduation, and stopped caring much about the other dragons around them in comparison to their mindmates. They certainly never seemed as fond of each other as Behruth and Checkoth were. Some of that could be attributed, doubtlessly, to him and M’ta being in a relationship – but it was also possible that them being involved with one another had something to do with the dragons, too. Very strange. So no, R’wign was not surprised that M’ta knew, though he hadn’t intended to tell him for the simple reason that he always seemed to worry too much. How was he supposed to explain, logically, why it mattered so much? It was an emotional thing, not bent on logic. R’wign hated explaining his emotions.
He didn’t mind explaining progress, though, and since M’ta already knew, he saw no harm in doing so. “I can hold my breath for long enough to go between, yes, and I can handle the extreme cold of the water in winter. I was testing both. That doesn’t mean I can go between. It’s a test that will have to be done in portions, and I’ll need someone’s help when I get around to it – specifically, it’ll probably be better trying to jump to coordinates around Selenitas before leaving the Weyr itself. But before I can do any of that, I have to actually be taught to between.” An almost sheepish smile passed over his face before he bowed his head. “I got hurt before we were taught that lesson… so I didn’t get to make it up. Sel’n taught me firestone drills, but when it became obvious that I had a breathing disorder, we never went back to betweening, and… I guess he felt sorry for me since he didn’t fail me.” The offer to help was appreciated, and R’wign expressed that by tugging M’ta down closer – until as much of their bodies were touching as possible. He was flattered and grateful that his lover was willing to help. He was.
“He wants to fly with a wing. I want to, too. I hate being mostly useless.” R’wign shrugged then smiled. “I’d love for you to help, but… I need a lot of it. As it is, I’ve been pretty busy in the infirmary, so I haven’t made much progress.”
Wait, what?
Having not known about what happened with R’ahre, R’wign was more than a little surprised by M’ta’s words, and his face portrayed that feeling perfectly. His curiosity was prominent and he cocked his head to the side before making a low hmmm? sound in his throat. “The only thing looking like me has gotten R’ahre, as far as I know, was a knife held to his throat when he first arrived here, courtesy of a very angry Lennae.” He’d ticked her off. He’d probably taken their game a little too far – probably. But, eh, Lennae had it coming and anyway it was R’ahre who got threatened, not him, so in the end, R’wign felt himself to be the victor. “What’s this about a knife through the eye? That’s news to me. Details, please, lover?”
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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 3, 2010 1:03:56 GMT -5
Cocking his head to one side, he listened attentively to R'wign's explanation. He meant it, about helping his weyrmate and Checkoth function as dragonpairs were meant to, whether that meant helping train him to hold his breath longer or working with him on Betweening itself. There was the issue of his weyrmate getting lost Between, and it would be a lie if he tried to claim that possibility wasn't frightening to him, but R'wign would find someone to teach him regardless. If he wanted to do it, he would. And there was always that risk, any time anyone went Between. If people like C'oar and Saeo could manage it, there was no reason R'wign couldn't.
"Yes. Our Weyrhealer is mostly useless." He snorted mildly, tucking his head against R'wign's jaw and trying to remember the side so he wouldn't brush against anything painful. It was a bit hard to do at times, sprawled out as he was over his weyrmate...skin-to-skin tended to be distracting, even when he had serious matters to concentrate on. "Behruth and I have no issue teaching you two, if you're fine with that. Hardly have the experience of Sel'n, but I think people forgot we hadn't taken the necessary lessons after I was well; sink or swim sort of thing." Highly dangerous, actually, and had he thought about it at the time it would have been wise to mention they only knew how to Between in theory. Nothing bad had come of it, though, so he wasn't inclined to beat himself up.
The question caught him off-guard, however, and R'wign undoubtedly felt the stiffening of surprise that briefly went through his body before he relaxed against him again. Hadn't he mentioned it...? Apparently not. "That's a story," he commented lightly. "Um, okay, so I was working on the roof at the Main Hall, right? Patching a hole. The drudges often have little odd jobs like that for me to do. Anyway, I was just going to, you know, swing in through the window once I was done. Simple enough. One of the young female drudges, though, she got worried I guess and tried to help me. Which was...not much of a help. Basically I had a girl clinging to my legs while hanging from the eaves by my fingers.
"So naturally we ended up in a pile on the ground. I didn't know there was a steam vent there, right underneath her, and she started struggling. So that's what R'ahre saw when he came in with his...delivery. He decided to play hero and grabbed me from behind. Never a good idea. I um...reacted without thinking, pinned him, and was about to stab him through the eye but his resemblance to you made me hesitate long enough to think about what I was doing. So...it essentially saved his ass."
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Post by glamourie on Mar 4, 2010 15:49:22 GMT -5
“We can,” R’wign agreed softly. It was highly tempting to scold M’ta and inform him of how reckless it was to just throw himself into trial by fire – but it was past, and harping on something that he couldn’t fix was pointless. It did make him somewhat angry to know that M’ta hadn’t voiced that he wasn’t taught (he’d thought he had) – but it was a passive anger, one he knew was well-founded, but the issue itself was long past dead. Buried, even. Best to let it lie. If he ever found out about M’ta taking such stupid risks again though…? His anger would be terrible. And unfortunately for his lovely weyrmate, an angry R’wign was problematic since they lived together. He knew how to make M’ta’s life a living hell for being dumb. The idea of losing M’ta was… petrifying. He pushed that thought from his mind. Terrifying beyond words; he wouldn’t be able to handle it, he was sure. No being stupid. He was half-tempted to slap his weyrmate upside the head for being so… foolish. Didn’t he realize what risks he was taking, how upsetting it was? Bad thoughts, bad thoughts. No lingering on it, no matter how tempting it was… to… throw a gigantic fit. Grrr. “I’m sure that Checkoth would love to learn from Behruth, although I’m going to tell you right now that I’m tempted to smother you with a pillow for not telling people you didn’t get taught properly. What were you thinking?” Okay, so he couldn’t resist the lecture. So sue him.
Lounging back on the bed, R’wign waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t answer that. You’ll just make me mad I’m sure.” And he didn’t want to fight.
Although hearing about M’ta’s first meeting with R’ahre was incredibly interesting. Yes, he had always known better than to sneak up on M’ta, even though he tried to do so on a semi-regular basis anymore. (He liked that he could, too, make no mistake.) One hand went up to stroke M’ta’s side, the touch meant to be consoling more than anything else. From what he heard, R’ahre was a decidedly unpleasant individual to be around, but it was coming from K’lir, and everything that K’lir said had to be taken with a grain of salt. The explanation made him crinkle his nose slightly before he leaned forward and ran his tongue very teasingly over M’ta’s bottom lip – playful, yes yes.
“I am very glad to know that you wouldn’t stab me through my one remaining eye, lover.” There was an underlying teasing to his voice that made it clear he knew well that M’ta was paranoid beyond belief. He’d never really understood it, but he did know. “If K’lir is to be believed – and I usually take what he says about as seriously as I take half of what Kalerary says – then R’ahre is typically a very obnoxious, arrogant, outspoken little git who, according to K’lir, needs to have his testicles yanked out of his body so that he’s a lot less bratty. He’s made quite an impression on the redhead.” To R’wign’s knowledge, their dragons were practically joined at the hip, much the same way Checkoth and Behruth were, which probably meant R’ahre and K’lir were going to end up being a lot more than just ‘friends’ at some point – he’d been nice enough not to warn the green weyrlingrider of that, though it was likely K’lir had figured it out himself anyway. “So I’m much better looking, despite only having one eye, hmm?” Yes, his mind had gone back to that. And the pain was rapidly diminishing, too. How nice.
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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 7, 2010 15:18:33 GMT -5
Okay he probably should not have said anything, he realized almost instantly. Good as R'wign was at hiding his emotions, he wasn't good enough for M'ta not to notice when they were practically nose-to-nose. Not after as long as they'd known each other. The smaller man simply didn't filter himself with his weyrmate at all...he was an inherently honest person to begin with. (If he did lie it was only because he himself believed said lie, which by extension made it not a lie - it simply wasn't the truth.) With R'wign he didn't tend to volunteer information that he knew was likely to upset the other man, but he really didn't bother sifting through his words the majority of the time. He felt no reason to hide anything from the healer. That was coming back to bite him in the butt right now, though.
Yeaaaahhhhh he wasn't letting it go. M'ta's only response to the question was a rather noncommittal grunt. Truthfully, he hadn't been thinking. (Really, why they hadn't made him finish the last several classes he'd missed was something of a mystery to him still.) Still not fully recovered from his illness, with plenty of other things on his mind, including the plague that had just started picking up...he hadn't thought about it until the wing was already jumping. Why Behruth hadn't mentioned it was something of a misplaced faith in his rider... M'ta's reason was fairly silly; he'd still been convinced Ka'rys would use just about any excuse to bump him off his wing and possibly ground the pair permanently. Yes, paranoid. It definitely seemed pretty silly now...of course the man had tried to kill him once so he felt it at least partially justified. But seeing as how R'wign didn't want an answer and everyone was just fine now nearly two turns later? It was done.
Snorting softly at the stabbing comment, his eyebrow rose at the discussion of testicle removal. "Might agree with him, but on the other hand, that requires someone to actually both look at and touch R'ahre's testicles, and I doubt you'll find much of anyone to volunteer, so..." Shrugging at that, he nipped lightly at the underside of R'wign's jaw. He rolled his eyes, growling softly. "Fishing for compliments? Yes you're much better looking, twit. I'm not lying on him right now, am I?" Such a silly man, his weyrmate. "No one's better looking than you to me...except possibly that super hot greenrider I met the other day, now she was something. Lucky you, though, she wasn't interested. Too short, can you believe the nerve of that woman? Tch." He smirked playfully at his weyrmate.
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Post by glamourie on Mar 8, 2010 15:12:16 GMT -5
“Don’t I always fish for compliments?” R’wign inquired, almost thoughtfully; he knew very well that he sought out being complimented. Low self-esteem did that to a person. He needed to know his weyrmate thought he was gorgeous beyond words because he didn’t think he was – he thought he was repulsive. M’ta knew that, intellectually, even if he couldn’t understand the reasoning. Just as R’wign couldn’t understand how M’ta found him attractive – appealing – desirable. He knew it was so – he believed M’ta when he said it – but yes, it did baffle him beyond words. Why would someone like M’ta want someone like him, so weak, so pathetic, so… different from him. He continually found it strange, and nothing M’ta put into words would ever change that. R’wign was pretty sure that neither of them understood each other completely – or very well. Maybe it was better that way though. He didn’t like the idea of M’ta getting bored with him. That was a constant, irrational fear. R’wign had low self-esteem, yes, and an intense fear of being a disappointment. So far, so good – but he hated the idea of letting M’ta down almost more than anything else on Pern. Ridiculous? A little.
R’wign trailed his hand down M’ta’s arm as the brownrider spoke and a wry smirk passed over his face that he couldn’t suppress and thus, he did not even bother to try. “Oh really. Rejected by the Weyrleader’s weyrmate. How can I ever compare? I’m going to tell S’rei that you were trying to seduce his woman. I didn’t know pregnant women were your taste though – that’s a bit odd, you know, a weird fetish to have. I think K’lir finds them hot too though, so you can bond with him over it,” the healer said pleasantly. He leaned up to Eskimo his nose against M’ta’s, arms winding around his weyrmate’s torso to pull him down firmly. “I’m pretty sure that I can’t acquire breasts, so you’ll just have to settle for me as I am. What a shame.”
Silly M’ta. He didn’t feel threatened that often. He didn’t. There were certain people who made him twitchy – and he couldn’t help that. Kalina was one of them. Yes, he knew his weyrmate didn’t want her, yes, he knew he was being unrealistic. Did it stop him from wanting to rip her to pieces when she looked at M’ta? No. Because he knew what she wanted. Trusting M’ta wasn’t the issue. The issue was trusting everyone else – and everyone else was definitely not trustworthy. The biggest person that he was twitchy about though was Meira which would undoubtedly make M’ta blink and stare if he knew. The way that M’ta treated her was similar enough to how he treated him that yes, he was nervous, and Meira seemed to like M’ta. She always had. It wasn’t his fault if M’ta couldn’t see that. Most everyone else on Pern could.
His smile wavered for a moment before he nuzzled his weyrmate gently. “I don’t know anything about R’ahre, except that he looks like me… with different eyes. I’ve got my mother’s eyecolor. When I was little, there were rumors… I tried to ignore them. No child likes to hear those kinds of things. In small holds, people talk.” He fidgeted. “My father had brown hair, brown eyes, a dark tan, he’s… a short, stocky man. My mother’s about as tall as Aliscia – maybe half a finger on her or so. She’s got brown hair, and green eyes like mine. I look a fair bit like her, but the hair and facial structure, especially now…” His fingers smoothed into M’ta’s skin, gently. “I look more like R’ahre than I do my father. I look more like R’ahre than I did Religna. When I was little, people talked and said my mother had an affair – I didn’t believe it at the time, and my father used to fight with people about it, he’d get so angry. He’d tell them I was his son, insist on it. I remember him getting into a fight with one of the other fisherman about it. But…”
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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 10, 2010 3:18:22 GMT -5
Some questions were better not answered, and that was one of them. M'ta didn't tend to acknowledge - aloud or even consciously if he could help it - that R'wign had an extreme lack of confidence in himself. For one, the other brownrider spent so much time attempting to make other people believe that he did that it almost seemed wrong to expose him in that way; even though R'wign's vulnerability was open to M'ta and had been for quite some time. Besides, acknowledging things sometimes gave the misconception that they were right, and there was nothing whatsoever justified in R'wign's low self-esteem. The man was gorgeous...more, though, he was brilliant, kind, playful, and the closest friend M'ta had aside from Behruth. M'ta was a passionate person, and while gaining access to his trust and heart wasn't easy, it was even harder to lose. He was so close to R'wign, trusted him so deeply that the physical attraction could actually be acted on. Which seemed...ridiculous to other people, but M'ta couldn't bear the most casual of touches of most without fighting off unwanted feelings of disgust and paranoia. Sometimes he worried. When the relationship began, his desire had been less than R'wign's, though he was always responsive, and since then they'd flipped. He knew his weyrmate loved simply touching, as they were now. R'wign likely didn't understand that M'ta's desire for him was one of the deepest expressions of his love, because sex wasn't something that he could even engage in without it. Nor was love a guarantee that he could, in and of itself - for, though he would likely never tell his weyrmate such, he truly loved a handful of people. None so deeply though. If a person could be capable of unconditional love, then that was what he felt for his weyrmate; there was nothing R'wign could do that he wouldn't forgive. Which in itself was dreadfully frightening if he let himself dwell on it too long.
Which most of the time he didn't. The playful banter and the warmth of his weyrmate beneath him were excellent distractions from deeper, more serious considerations.
His nose wrinkled at R'wign, and he knew that the fellis must seriously be kicking in considering how snug his weyrmate's embrace had become. Yielding to it, he buried his face in the man's neck, speaking against his jaw with no small amount of amusement. "An absolute shame, that. I can't even begin to describe how disappointed I am that you have no breasts for me to play with; if I'd known beforehand I would have made sure to fall for someone else."
Lifting up enough on one elbow to look at R'wign, his brow furrowed for a moment as he attempted to...understand. M'ta had issues with these family things. Although, starting one of his own with R'wign was gradually changing that (likely, though, a heterosexual relationship would have progressed it faster). He might not understand what the issue was with children by different parents, but he did understand the betrayal of sleeping with someone else. R'wign would never have to worry about that, aside from Behruth - but that was different anyway - because M'ta was physically incapable even if he'd wanted to. It would be dreadfully painful for M'ta to think of R'wign with anyone else, wanting them. And with everyone knowing that pain, which was a very personal type of hurt, due to the birth of a child that made it clear what had happened? Yes, from that perspective he understood. To a point.
"Weren't you?" he murmured. "Teri is our daughter...Riaren is my son. Neither of them are mine, but I take care of them. Teri more than Riaren. In that way you're more his than you are the son of R'ahre's father...I can see why he'd be so angry. He's the one who loves you." At least, that's how M'ta saw it. You didn't get mad like that over something...someone...you didn't care about. "None of my family is related to me by blood," he added softly. And never had been. He didn't think that meant you couldn't love them - that they weren't your family - just as much.
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Post by glamourie on Mar 10, 2010 22:21:12 GMT -5
“I’m soooorry,” R’wign play-whined, almost as if he thought that M’ta meant it. He knew better. For reasons he did not fully understand, his weyrmate thought he was extraordinarily attractive, and he didn’t need to be reminded at that moment. Much of that half-confidence was spurred by his brain fogging over, a side effect of the fellis kicking in: he was ridiculously happy, but he was also slowly falling asleep. Hmm. Awkward. The healer squirmed slightly, his eye falling closed underneath M’ta, content. The warmth was actually relaxing, and though he held his weyrmate firmly, it was more because he felt most at ease when M’ta was clamped close to him, touching, skin-to-skin. M’ta made him feel safe, secure, loved and wanted. Was it any wonder he found it easy to fall asleep when they were close together, knowing that there was no way he’d ever be hurt? M’ta wouldn’t let it happen. Plain and simple.
Although, talking about his family was awkward. He’d never told anyone (not even Religna, who was too young to understand it at the time when their father came home with bruised and bleeding knuckles) the things he was explaining to M’ta – and in a way, that was both relieving and frightening. He didn’t see a reason to not voice the thoughts though, since M’ta didn’t seem put out by the proverbial skeletons in his closet. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like voicing it was a betrayal to his mother and father in some way. He’d pretended, as a child, to not understand what the jeering remarks meant, to not understand why some of the hold ladies looked at him funny and pointed, whispered when he was out with his father. He tried. His father tried, too, although Rawn had his own way of handling things. Sailor’s mouth and grumbly, uncouth, uncivilized – there was almost nothing that R’wign had in common with his father, in retrospect, and it wasn’t just physical. He was educated; Rawn was not. He was eloquent (when he wanted to be) and Rawn tended to swear every other word. He was obsessive about his hygiene and Rawn spent weeks at a time on a ship at peak season. Could he possibly have rebelled anymore?
“I’ve always seen him as my father, regardless of blood. That’s not… what I was saying. I was just explaining the way things were back then. Though, I expect he’d be quite disappointed in me now.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice – R’wign usually hated being a disappointment, but half-driven by fellis and incredibly content, he couldn’t really say that he was terribly bothered. It wasn’t like he’d ever see Rawn again anyway. “I’m practically the opposite of everything he was. Y’know, he’s a sailor – he doesn’t have any kind of formal education, doesn’t know how to read and write, no desire to learn, would probably question why I ever thought it worthwhile. He hated dragonriders, too. That’s not that uncommon in the smaller holds of Nerat since we’ve got so many rainforests and Benden hated protecting our region.” The fact that Benden Weyr treated the Holds terribly most of the time also turned the smaller cotholds against them, even though interaction was sparse. “He’d be furious that I Impressed a dragon… that I ran away from home and didn’t become a fisherman… that I’m a healer; he sees that as woman’s craft, or he did… Pretty sure I exemplify everything he resents. It’s not intentional, but kind of funny in retrospect…”
His arms tightened, ever so slightly, and R’wign snuggled closer. “I love you, you know.” It was probably out of the blue, but considering his drugged state, likely to be unsurprising. “You make my life worth living. And I am fixing to fall asleep on you, lover. I hope you don’t mind.” He snuggled close to his weyrmate to make his point before wryly smiling. “At least it doesn’t hurt anymore. Are you feeling better?”
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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 13, 2010 16:17:47 GMT -5
M'ta listened to the description of R'wign's father with interest, thinking as he did so that if the man could look past his being a dragonrider and weyrmated to R'wign - they'd probably get along pretty well. He was, well, not much like R'wign...it's why he'd liked R'wign so much in the beginning, if he was honest. His weyrmate was educated, got along with just about everyone, at ease in every situation but the ones in which M'ta felt most at home - struggling for his life. Though he was learning to read and write, though he was working at the infirmary now, that was all because R'wign wanted it and M'ta liked doing things that made his weyrmate happy. (As far as the infirmary was concerned, there was no way he'd ask R'wign to give that up, so the only other answer was to join him there so they could spend more time together. So no, it wasn't just because R'wign wanted him to. Though he did feel extremely undereducated and even stupid compared to all the healers bustling around. R'wign liked to say he was smart, and M'ta didn't disbelieve him, but there were different kinds of intelligent and he wasn't intelligent in the same way as the healers and R'wign in particular. He simply wasn't. M'ta felt much more comfortable making things and probably always would.) At any rate, Rawn sounded like the sort of person M'ta had known throughout his childhood, the sort of person he'd come to love. Rough, uncivilized, wild almost, but wildly loyal and free in a way that no one bound by social conventions ever could be. In short, much as M'ta himself had been before things turned for the worst. There was something endearing about people who didn't have emotional constipation, even if they had a foot-in-mouth tendency.
M'ta smiled mildly at R'wign. "I heard that Healer Hall only recently started taking women...like the last few generations. But you know, it's easy to see it as woman's work when all you've seen of healing is kids getting sick and mothers taking care of them." Or nothing at all, in M'ta's case, until he arrived at Selenitas. Didn't seem much like a woman's work here, although there were a good number of women who did it. The work of someone with a gentler personality though? Yeah, generally. Savitri. Rae. Erilena. R'wign. That old Asharra woman. Mayari. Meira. E'rro almost had no personality to speak of...so gentler didn't really apply to him. Kalierre and E'rro were the ones who didn't quite fit the mold, but they were both healers from Benden. Being Bitran - yeah, he could understand how gentler personalities could die there. M'ta elected not to say anything about that, however, even though it was easy to go from gentler personality to female in a northern mindset. Gender roles were extremely defined where the two brownriders had come from.
Blinking slightly at the statement, M'ta smiled wryly, dipping down to brush his lips gently over R'wign's. "You're very agreeable drugged," he commented teasingly. "Almost like when you're half-asleep. Could probably get you to do anything. You should be thankful your weyrmate isn't cruel and wicked." Wicked, quite often, yes. But cruel? Not generally. Resting fully against him, he buried his face between his neck and shoulder, turning his head to rest his cheek against R'wign's jaw. "I'm fine," he murmured, kissing his jawline. "Too comfortable to move, though, so you'll just have to put up with it handsome." As if R'wign had ever complained about M'ta sprawling on him. Really.
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