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Post by glamourie on Feb 23, 2010 22:53:10 GMT -5
Are you sure about this? K’lirMyLove…
The unspoken worry from Baoth hung in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Her upset was tangible. The green rarely left the spot she’d assumed on the infirmary ledge. The position kept K’lir in her view and – likely would have kept her in his line of sight, if not for one major problem: K’lir couldn’t see at all.
The first couple sevendays, it was assessed as flash damage from the explosion that he’d witnessed firsthand. There was a possibility of recovery. However, as time drew past, and the bandages over his eyes were removed, it was obvious that his vision would not be returning – clear, empty golden eyes staring blankly into the distance, a world of black. It was an odd sensation, to be walking and not know where he was going. Fortunately, K’lir wasn’t doing very much walking; he still had some burns on his arms and legs that kept him in the infirmary. It was good, since it gave him time to rely on Showoff to tell him where to walk, where to go – an assignment that his salamandyr had dedicated himself to completely. It was pretty much the only reason that he didn’t between. K’lir was intelligent enough to know that. The all-encompassing melancholy from Showoff was painful for K’lir; his mindmate was distressed due to Daeluunya going between… and if K’lir hadn’t been hurt, Showoff probably would have joined her.
He felt like an explosion inside. One mindmate feeling guilty; another miserable. As for him… he was just grateful to be alive at all. And with most of the people who meant anything to him intact. He… wasn’t addressing the loss of Uu’n yet. He couldn’t. He needed time.
What K’lir was addressing that particular afternoon was a much bigger problem, one that broke his heart, even if he was very good at pretending otherwise. The green weyrlingrider tapped his fingers on his thighs, staring blankly to the front of him while listening to movement from his sides. Showoff spoke silently into his mind, explaining that there were ‘Ugly Lustminions’ wandering around, no doubt tending to other patients. He wasn’t normally high maintenance since he could care for himself for the most part – Showoff acted as a set of eyes that he was normally missing – but that didn’t mean that he didn’t get checked on regularly (usually by R’wign who insisted on hovering; the healer had mumbled something about osmosis, which K’lir didn’t know what that was but he was sure it was an insult). And it was getting later in the day, which meant that the person that he needed to talk to would be leaving soon, if she wasn’t already climbing into bed with her weyrmate. Icky. He was glad he couldn’t see.
Is Kalierre anywhere nearby?
Lustugly’s here. Not near. But here. The little bronze leapt up onto his head and nestled into his hair. Showoff’s color was off, but aside from that, it was hard to tell that he was as down as he was. Having K’lir to focus on and fawn over was a healthy distraction from the knowledge that his mate was gone forever. Get her, Lovemine? He’d stopped with the insults for K’lir ever since he got hurt – it wasn’t likely that he’d go back any time soon, either. Showoff’s fondness for K’lir won out over his fondness for being a total brat, at least for the moment. To K’lir, anyway. Woe betide the healers unfortunate enough to be stuck dealing with him for extended periods of time. K’lir would’ve pitied them if he didn’t find the whole thing funny.
Not necessary.
No, he had his own way of getting Kalierre’s attention. All at once, with little regard for the sleeping patients nearby, K’lir screamed as loud and long as he could. If that didn’t make her come scurrying over, nothing would.
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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 1:15:42 GMT -5
One. Four. Five. Eight. "One. Two. Three. Four." Five. Eight. "Five. Six." Eight? "Seven." Ten! She paused in her count, leveling a narrowed gaze on the distinctly innocent seeming salamandyr. That did it. "You are not that dim. If you can't take this seriously I'm not letting you do inventory with me again." Lust try, really, he whined plaintively, but even if a person hadn't been bonded to him as long as Kalierre had, the shiver of laughter behind his pleading would have given him away. Try hard, count good. See. See? One. Two. Four. Five. Seven. Ten. Here he looked up, tongue flickering, and hopped as she moved to brush him off the shelf with a hand. Leaping onto her arm, he skittered up to her shoulder.
Make joke like Chewtoy. Laugh haha? Come, big lady, make happy face. "When you insist on calling me that ridiculously offensive name? Fat chance." Cue a scurry up onto her head, from which he decided to dangle down right in front of her nose. Make haaappppyyyy face. Grumbling about just where he could stick his happy face, and wondering how far salamandyrs could fall without all their insides bursting, the bronze menace was saved by a shriek that was like to wake the dead.
Flinging the clipboard with a curse, the woman whirled at a speed that very nearly sent her toppling before she remembered her leg didn't do things at that pace. "What the shards? Are we gutting people without my permission? I distinctly told all the apprentices that no such practices were to take place without me present to enjoy it," she muttered, loudly enough for any passing apprentices (all wisely headed the opposite direction) to hear.
"Shut that thing up, and stop banging felines against the wall in here. No domestic felines allowed," she snapped above the shriek as she entered the room. Of course it was a joke...she knew there were no felines. Most people didn't tend to appreciate her humor however (possibly because she often sounded both pissy and serious when she did choose to joke).
Despite the definite snap to her tone, she moved to the side of the bed, getting close enough that K'lir could find her and touch her if he wanted to. It was...easier...for many to be able to tell where you were. "You'd better be dying by internal combustion to be raising such a racket, mister."
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Post by glamourie on Feb 24, 2010 14:01:40 GMT -5
The speaking made K’lir tilt his head to the side, though he didn’t turn toward the sound – it was hard not to, since instinct said to look at the sources of noise, but… he couldn’t look at anything. He couldn’t see, period. The last memory that he had from the Main Hall was seeing S’rei’s nephew and trying to keep the little boy from going inside – and then grabbing him and shielding him with his own body to try and prevent the impending explosion from consuming them both. Mild burns. Blindness. He’d been told Miguel was mostly-okay. He hadn’t seen him – heh, he hadn’t seen anyone. And it didn’t even occur to K’lir to ask to talk to the boy. His priorities had been skewed at best: the only person he’d asked to speak to was his mother, and really only to make sure she looked after Kahrelir/helped care for Baoth while he couldn’t. It was awkward at best. Part of him wondered if Miguel was okay – he’d woken up in the infirmary – but most of him was much too frightened to ask. K’lir didn’t scare easy, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it if the answer was that Miguel wasn’t okay. So he didn’t ask. Smart thing to do: don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answer to.
He lifted his hand and swatted at his side before finding Kalierre’s wrist and he curled his fingers carefully in place. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to leave; it was that he needed to know where she was. It was silly, perhaps, but he felt better touching her, knowing she hadn’t walked off on him. He was constantly afraid that he’d be in conversation with someone and they’d walk off without him ever knowing. (Never mind that he actually heard very well and would almost certainly always know when they were leaving – paranoia didn’t leave.)
“Help, I can’t seem to find my vagina, in its place is this thing,” he said with a fake note of hysteria that was played up way too much. “You’ve got to fix me, Kalierre, this is so problematic. I can’t be this pretty and not a woman.” The playful smile faded from his face and he bowed his head. A curtain of blood red waves wove over his face, disguising the empty golden eyes. In a much more serious tone, he explained, “I’m fine. I just needed to talk to you. Can you get a chair and sit…? It’s kind of important. Your shift doesn’t, um, end any time soon does it?” There was a slight hint of nervousness in his voice that showed he wasn’t entirely comfortable with what he wanted to talk about but – it needed to be done. Sometimes, what was necessary didn’t feel good… and it didn’t have to. K’lir, for all of his brattiness, did recognize that.
The gentle brush of Baoth over his mind stilled his nerves some, but it was Showoff that helped to keep him from asking Kalierre to leave – announcing that he’d changed his mind. The salamandyr leapt off his head and gently nipped his ear before standing on his hindlegs to look at Kalierre and Lust both, as if they were the most interesting creatures that he’d ever seen. He offered Lust a very half-hearted frill (clearly he wasn’t really serious about it – he didn’t have the heart to even fight with the other bronze). The wave of melancholy made K’lir frown widely.
“He doesn’t eat much. I keep trying to make him, but he doesn’t.” Showoff actually turned and hissed at him, and K’lir swatted his own shoulder to remove the salamandyr. “He’s been really… acting odd. Is he off-color?” He was, but K’lir couldn’t see it. The normally healthy glimmer of bronze and red that made Showoff stand out had dimmed to an almost gray, and the little creature had definitely lost some weight. “I – I don’t know what to do about him. I keep asking him to eat and he hasn’t stolen anything in days, let alone seriously insulted anyone or picked a fight…” Most people would be glad. K’lir was smart enough to know when his salamandyr was acting off kilter, and talking about Showoff was easier than the real reason he’d called Kalierre in. He’d work his way up to it. Right.
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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 25, 2010 23:34:46 GMT -5
She wasn't terribly surprised when he groped for her, and allowed him to cling to her wrist, though the dramatics were...odd. A brow rose that he wouldn't be able to see. It wasn't Kalierre who responded, however. KaliMine, little thief is, steal your thingy, get for you? Lust commented with silky sweetness. "He can keep it." The bronze crooned softly and rubbed up against her neck, drawing out a derisive snort from the woman.
"My shift? A half candlemark ago," she responded quietly, giving his hand a light squeeze before extracting her wrist so she could sit down as he'd asked. Kalierre brought it up right where she'd been standing, though, arranging her legs as comfortably as she could. "But I haven't been going by the schedule, really...too much to do. No intentions of leaving for awhile yet. What did you need?" Lust had fallen silent, rubbing up against the bridge of Kalierre's nose and pretending not to notice his staring brother. It would seem like arrogance, but part of him just didn't wish to...acknowledge that his brother could look that sickly. The other - and lesser of course, though he was willing to acknowledge that Showoff was closest to matching his perfection - king of the salamandyrs. It could have something to do with Vanity having gone missing awhile back, too. Not that Lust would admit that.
Listening to K'lir, Kalierre shifted slightly in her chair, uncomfortable. Yes, Showoff was off-color. And, even had his behavior escaped her notice, Lust clearly had no trouble both noticing it and identifying it. The dragonhealer could do something about illnesses or injuries, but there wasn't much she could do about a salamandyr's...emotions? Heartache? Her own bronze had been bad enough, and he hadn't even known that Vanity was gone. If she'd died...well, no sense in what ifs. Phremath was upset about Adith, but it was a quiet upset that would pass; Adith had by and large been out of her life, beloved clutchbrother that he was, for turns. Kalierre was surprised her green even remembered him, to be honest.
"I don't know what to tell you, K'lir," she responded, hating that she had no answer for him. "If he gets sluggish I can always...intravenously...but I can't fix problems like that. My only advice is be supportive and give him attention, though I hardly think I need to tell you that. You probably do that without any prompting." She remembered that the greenrider seemed to be very good with Showoff. Not that she had that much contact with him, partially because of Lust. Normally, putting the two eldest bronze salamandyrs in the same room together wasn't a good idea.
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Post by glamourie on Feb 27, 2010 20:57:08 GMT -5
It was really tempting for Showoff to make an insulting comment. Any other time, he undoubtedly would have. As it was, he just flared his frill more threateningly, this time out of genuine anger, and not just to be a brat. His eyes whirled hints of red, but he didn’t bespeak Lust; instead, Showoff leapt down to perch on K’lir’s shoulder protectively, his wings flaring as though his little body could keep the green weyrlingrider safe from any harm. Ever since Dael’s death, Showoff had more than just latched onto K’lir – he couldn’t be apart from him for very long without whining in the most piteous way. It wasn’t even verbal whining, it was just little squeaks that broke K’lir’s heart. Though Lust likely did not mean it, he’d actually offended Showoff and, were he any stronger, he probably would’ve launched into an attack. As it was, defensive posture was safer and smarter so that’s what the smaller bronze went into, though the anger in his eyes was obvious enough. Irritating. Irritating.
Better choice. Must be. Not like this one. The comment was directed to K’lir and K’lir alone – which was perhaps fortunate as it was always a bad sign when the salamandyr was coherent and not babbling half nonsense. His frill fanned for a moment before he relaxed slightly, K’lir mentally prodding him to ease down. No need to fight.
What did he need indeed…? He couldn’t bring himself to just blurt it out. Talking about Showoff was easier, somehow. Her commentary earned a mute nod. Nothing that he didn’t know, but… he was worried. He was; he couldn’t help it. Between Baoth’s blatant guilt, and Showoff’s anxiety over the loss of Dael, he felt like he was exploding. And what he needed to talk to Kalierre about wasn’t something minor – it wasn’t an issue that he could simply bring up, blurt out. K’lir was good at those kinds of conversations. What he wasn’t good at was addressing things that tied to his emotions – which he usually just blurted out. But this had to be handled delicately, and it… hurt. He wasn’t used to things hurting him. Maybe he was egotistical, or just too ‘easy’ – he didn’t stay upset that often and most things that ‘hurt’ lasted all of five minutes before he tired of them and moved on. This… his insides felt like they were about to explode. Like she’d said. How ironic.
Stroking the salamandyr gently, K’lir exhaled. Baoth’s brush on his mind was minimally comforting at best. The green was still feeling too bothered for him to totally calm down.
“Right. I’m trying, it’s just… yeah.” He felt awkward trying to talk. Weird. Shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts, K’lir scratched his side absently. “Out of curiosity, what do you know about Kahrelir?” Priding himself on the fact that his voice didn’t break, the greenrider squirmed back in his cot. His back pressed up against the headboard, balancing him out, and he groped around to find the end of the bed. Locating it, K’lir swung his legs over the sides and turned his head forward, unintentionally facing Kalierre – not that he knew exactly where she was, since he had no clue where the chair was. Really he just needed to be moving; he was too antsy to stay still. “I mean, besides the basic fact that he’s my son. Sometimes he stays with R’wign – I don’t know if he ever brought him here or not. Have you met him…?”
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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 22:16:48 GMT -5
If Lust noticed his effect on Showoff, he didn't acknowledge it. In all likelihood he really didn't care. The bronze wasn't the sort to bother with hurt feelings or bruised egos, particularly when he'd done nothing he could fathom to justify them. Phremath stirred in Kalierre's mind questioningly, to which the woman responded with a mere mental shrug. She had no idea why K'lir had felt the need to call her so - boisterously. No more idea now than when she'd first entered. The green apparently accepted that and went back to entertaining herself, though Kalierre could sense that her lovely one was starting to grow a touch peevish; that usually happened when Kalierre worked too long a stretch at a time.
Blinking slightly at his question, she leaned back in her chair and regarded him with a mild frown. It wasn't that she minded talking to people about their children, per se, but she was wondering how far into small talk this was going to go. What next, the weather? Or was he trying to describe some sort of illness the kid had (parents loved to go into a tizzy over the slightest sneeze) without having Kahrelir brought here? That, too, was a possibility. Though the question itself didn't make sense with either scenario, which was why she rather found herself at something of a loss as to how to answer.
Well, she supposed she should just reply and see what he was getting at later - if he cared to enlighten her at all. "R'wign and Kahrelir...not much," she admitted quietly. "We rarely have a slow day here, you know. I recall his eyes...that he's about Shei's age give or take...and he seemed rather quiet. Though that's not at all unusual for a child his age in here, with all the hustle and bustle, the sounds and the smells. It can get quite overwhelming a lot of times." Falling silent, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and regarding him solemnly.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I really need to finish the inventory before my weyrmate comes to hunt me down - he doesn't listen to protests. Did you have a reason you wanted me here, aside from someone to talk to? I'm sure I could get someone else to keep you company until I'm finished." And then yes, she'd come back. Kalierre wasn't sure why he wanted her to relieve his boredom, but if that was the case she was fine with it. Once she finished her work.
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Post by glamourie on Mar 4, 2010 16:18:22 GMT -5
“Are you always this annoying? I’m trying to – I’m – just – be patient with me. Okay? I only deliberately annoy my friends or heterosexual men. You’re not my friend, and despite R’wign’s proclamations to the contrary, I’m pretty sure you’re an innie, not an outie. So stop – I’m – I’m not trying to just take up your time. This isn’t easy…”
Sharding emotions. K’lir’s stomach twisted into an unpleasant knot and he instinctively recoiled backwards, very nearly falling off the opposite end of the bed; it was sheer luck that kept him on it, because he was actually teetering on the side opposite of Kalierre. Was he over-reacting? He thought he was, but… what he wanted to say… was probably the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, that he would ever have to do in his life, even, and he did not want to be rushed. He was angry that she seemed to think that – that he just – if he needed someone to talk to, it wouldn’t have been her – his stomach hurt. Yes, it hurt. He shoved his feelings back inside and rubbed awkwardly at his own wrists, as if they itched. Really it was more of a nervous gesture: he used to click his tongue or tap his nails but since he didn’t know where anything was to tap his nails against, he settled for just fidgeting. He half-wondered if he was getting hives. Maybe it was all in his mind. He definitely felt uncomfortable.
“Kahrelir – he uh – he doesn’t… he’s not quiet; he’s… R’wign described it as selective mutism. He talks to me sometimes. But no one else, and never where anyone else can hear him. He doesn’t make noise either. He doesn’t… he doesn’t cry. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t make happy noises, or sad, he doesn’t laugh – he’s… silent. Always. He’s four, but I haven’t managed to ever get more than two words at a time out of him – I uh, I don’t know who he gets that from because Beka and I both were and are loud mouths, I mean, I don’t even know when to shut up half the time.” As evidenced by the string of anxious babbling. K’lir did not realize that though as he fidgeted, feeling (and undeniably looking) more like a scolded child than he should’ve. He hadn’t done anything wrong, shard it, so why was he feeling so… so guilty? So horrible? His stomach twisted harder and he actually took a moment to bring one hand up to his face – but the nausea passed quickly enough, perhaps to his good fortune.
He didn’t really have enough time to be getting so nervous. He needed to cut to the chase, but he was having so much trouble…
Relax, Lovemine. Relax. Relax. Sick not good. Not get sick. Showoff flipped over to land on the bed and scurried up in front of K’lir, putting his little forepaws on K’lir’s knee to alert his mindmate of his presence. Babylove best. Not that dumb. Stupid’s will see. His tail curled behind him and the bronze flared his wings testily before leaping up onto K’lir’s thigh. Relax. Showoff loves.
Instinctively dropping one hand to stroke the salamandyr, K’lir forced himself to calm down – literally, it only took him a few seconds to accomplish it. He ran his tongue over his lips before nodding slowly to the salamandyr, who was talking to him and him alone. None of Lust’s business, apparently. To Kalierre, he said very softly, “R’wign told me about you and K’von.” He didn’t elaborate. If he could’ve seen he likely wouldn’t have met her eyes, but it was kind of irrelevant since there was no way to see the reaction his words received. He felt lost – part of him wanted to know what she was thinking and he couldn’t tell. It was a very strange sensation, being so… in the dark, so to speak…
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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 9, 2010 22:33:42 GMT -5
Kalierre remained silent, if only because there wasn't much to be said. It was kind of silly to apologize, and he didn't seem upset at her so much as...whatever it was he was trying to say. So she merely remained seated where she was and waited for him to get to it.
As he began describing Kahrelir, the dragonhealer found herself growing even more confused. R'wign was likely right - it sounded like selective mutism, and her counterpart had certainly been exposed to the child far more than she had, so trusting his diagnosis was logical. Did K'lir want her to try to help that? It wasn't something that could be 'fixed,' and in all truth wasn't something that required fixing. If Kahrelir could talk and simply chose not to, for whatever reason, that wasn't anything people really should mess with. The best way she knew to deal with it was just treat him like any other child and pay closer attention, because the child would be less likely to try to get it for himself. Which no doubt K'lir knew far better than she did, having raised the boy for over four turns. Nor did it really sound like he was looking for that, to be honest. No, she was definitely confused. And, as such, simply allowed him to continue to speak uninterrupted until she could figure out where this whole thing was going.
The woman instinctively reached for the greenrider's arm, speaking quietly, "I don't know what you're trying to tell me, K'lir..." She stopped just short of touching him, however, at his next words, hand falling to the bed and bunching the sheets beneath her fingers. There weren't too many things that R'wign could tell K'lir about her and K'von. That they were together was extremely old news, and so was the not-so-secret dalliance in her office all that long while ago. Which really only left...the miscarriage. It was something she preferred not to talk about. Despite the greater ease in the relationship between her and K'von since then - well, since after she stopped drinking herself silly and bunking in the infirmary - the thought of the life she'd allowed herself to hope for and imagine (a mistake if ever there was one) remained an open wound.
Forcing a smile, which would be reflected in her words even if he couldn't see it directly, Kalierre managed to keep most of the quaver out of her voice and the cheerful tone didn't sound too false. "Well, you know, things happen. I don't know where we'd find the time anyway, what with his heading up a wing these days. I was already busy enough for the both of us." Shardit the regret was still there. She shrugged it off. K'lir would notice or he wouldn't, would comment or he wouldn't, and that was in his court now. Comprehension was slow to dawn, but dawn it did, and even afterwards she was almost afraid to voice it. Just...too...presumptious. Yet she found herself asking just the same. "You...you want me to...?" Or maybe not. Kalierre couldn't quite finish it, and cursed herself for the pain the thought brought her - and the little flicker of hope. What the shards?
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Post by glamourie on Mar 10, 2010 18:47:50 GMT -5
Fidget. Fidget. Shards, it was awkward. K’lir twitched his fingers, lacing them together in his lap as he stared blankly ahead. The black was almost overwhelming. One of the most noticeable traits of losing his sight was that he picked up on nuances in voices much easier – the slightest hints of emotions that most people overlooked. (This particular trait had become a matter of much irritation to the Weyrhealer, who could disguise his features, but the slightest hints still crept into his voice – but to K’lir, it was actually nice being able to tell what was going on there.) He picked up on the upset in her voice, however slight it was, and part of him felt guilty. Part. Most of him was of the opinion that the ends justified the means and he needed to know – needed to hear that ever-so-slight tone to reassure himself, make it feel less like he was… was… abandoning Kahrelir entirely. He wasn’t, regardless: K’lir couldn’t leave his son’s life, he just couldn’t. But…
He fidgeted awkwardly, hands tangling against the bottom of his shirt. It was too long for him and probably made him look more child-like than should have been natural. K’lir definitely looked like a child a lot of the time, a side effect of his tiny stature. Big mouth, bratty attitude – those helped too…
“I… Kahrelir doesn’t talk. He doesn’t say what’s wrong. He doesn’t make noise. My mother came by to visit and I didn’t even know where in the room he was, even though he was standing right next to me.” It was hard to sob. The only thing that kept him from doing so was pride – what a wonderful thing. “He’s a really sweet child – I don’t know where he gets it ‘cause neither me or Beka were very nice, but… He’s incredibly sweet. Likes making people smile, likes making projects, like building stuff, my weyr has a huge set of buildings made out of blocks that Kahrelir made. He doesn’t scream or shriek, he never has, and he’s able to eat some solids. He’s almost four… he’s…” K’lir took a deep breath, wet his lips and shook his head. “When I first was told I wouldn’t be able to see, I… I didn’t know what to do. I know I can’t care for him. I can’t be the father he needs, and deserves, if I can’t even see him. I’m sure there’s plenty of people in the crèche who would adopt him – he’s sweet as can be. But I don’t want him to live with just anyone. He’s special, to me, and in general, and he needs someone who understands that. He needs someone who can live with the fact that he’ll probably never be a normal little boy…”
Despite his best efforts, his eyes were leaking. K’lir did his best to ignore it and hoped that Kalierre did not comment. He hated crying in front of people. It was like it was something shameful, to be hidden away. People didn’t need to know that. “So – so I started thinking, who would be a good choice? I don’t want him to be with someone who will love him less. R’wign’s got Terilyn and Riaren, and he’d never be able to love Kahrelir like his own when he already has two. Plus he doesn’t have time. And – and Savitri, she’s got two and a half if you count that little girl who follows around R’wign.” He didn’t know her name, but it didn’t matter. “R’wign told me – he told me you and K’von lost your child, and I thought – I thought maybe since you can’t have one of your own, you would be able to love him the way he deserves. And you’re a healer, so you understand what is needed for a child like him…” Trailing off, K’lir rubbed the heel of his palm over his eyes, trying his best not to launch into hysterics. “I – if you don’t want to, I guess my mother can look after him until I find someone else – she’s coming by in, um, just under a candlemark or so with him and…”
Babybest. Love baby. Best, is Rel. Very nice baby. You be good to? Showoff inquired of Kalierre, speaking in a broadcast for her to hear. We visit lots? Flaring his frill anxiously, Showoff crawled across the bed and then did a flying leap onto Kalierre (never mind that she was Lust’s; he didn’t care at that moment) and landed neatly on her arm, looking up at her anxiously with whirling eyes. Babybest, you watch, make safe? Lirmine upset, scared, worried. You make hurt go?
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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 17:12:21 GMT -5
She knew where it was going long before it got there - not that it was hard to figure that out. Kalierre wanted to stop him. He didn't need to actually articulate it. But she was too emotional herself to risk the attempt to speak, knowing she might fumble over it at any moment. And then he was crying. The dragonhealer was, in general, no better at dealing with tears than the average male, and could feel a small knot of panic settling in her stomach at the sight of it. What was she supposed to do? To say? Of course...of course they'd, take Kahrelir. Or she would, anyway, but that was the problem; she couldn't just tell K'lir she would. There was K'von to consider, to talk to and clear it with. (Even though she already knew, as she sat there, that she would take Rel to live with her no matter what his answer was. The thought of not doing so was just too distressing.)
Perhaps it was her silence, or maybe it was simply K'lir's upset, but the salamandyr begging her, too, was almost too much. Her throat was thick with emotion and she mentally griped at her own weakness. Reaching over for K'lir's arm with the one that didn't have a bronze salamandyr on it, she ran her hand down it briefly. "K'lir..." Had to stop, start over. "I have to talk to K'von." There was a definite note of apology in the words, though that alone should have made it clear what her answer was. Still, she couldn't just walk in with Rel without talking to K'von first. Which was likely to go better in person, where he could see how much she wanted to. Manipulative? Perhaps, but Kalierre feared he might not want someone else's child, even though they couldn't...he certainly hadn't mentioned it.
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Post by glamourie on Mar 17, 2010 15:17:27 GMT -5
The touch on his arm made K’lir twitch and he insistently rubbed his eyes, as if they were stuck with something that he couldn’t quite get out. Baoth was a comforting presence and he latched onto her – though it was hard to do. He wanted to cling to Showoff, the one stable thing in his life since before Kahrelir was born, but the salamandyr was too upset. He couldn’t afford to have more upset or he’d just fall into nonsensical hysterics and that was no good for anyone. It was sad, though, in some ways. Calistoth was gone and he missed her horribly. His first firelizard, from that bluerider’s gold flitter’s clutch, Troublemaker – he was gone too (and that obnoxious greenrider had used the name later, a fact K’lir hated). Beka was gone. K’ran was gone. Uu’n and Dael were gone. Was Lennae? Probably. Her salamandyr had been killed. He hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to know. And because he was injured, he had to give up his son, too. Kahrelir was… going to be gone. Better for him in the long run, he knew, but it hurt. It hurt.
Kalierre’s words made him crinkle his nose and he half-snorted, half-laughed.
“I’m not asking K’von.”
It was probably a very unpleasant comment to make, but he hadn’t gotten K’von as a suggestion. When he talked to R’wign about his predicament, the healer hadn’t said ‘K’von and Kalierre.’ He’d said ‘Kalierre.’ And R’wign wasn’t the sort to overlook that kind of detail. If he left K’von out, it was on purpose, and for what he thought was a good reason (whether K’lir would agree or not was up in the air). The fact of the matter, though, was that he was asking Kalierre. If she wanted to involve K’von, that was her prerogative. He didn’t care what the brownrider thought. It was… probably colder than necessary, but K’lir was very used to disappointment. He also wanted Kalierre to understand the situation completely: it was her he was trusting. Not her weyrmate. Not his friends. Her. Not that he thought it mattered much what he thought to her. His opinion didn’t matter to very many people.
“Showoff,” he said without moving, and the salamandyr detached from Kalierre’s arm before flinging himself back at K’lir. The greenrider reached down to instinctively stroke his pet, his head bowed to try and hide his crying from view. “My mother will be here in less than a candlemark. I’d like you to – um – I’d like it if you could at least meet him. He’ll – he’ll be with her. He’s very shy, so don’t be too put off, because he’s really not used to strangers yet… I keep trying but he tends to just hide and – yeah…”
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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 26, 2010 13:14:17 GMT -5
The significance of his response wasn't lost on her. It caused the slightest of frowns, though she chose not to comment on it. If K'lir wanted her to take sole responsibility for the child, and the change in living arrangements was something K'von was okay with, then she'd do just that. It wasn't that she didn't trust her weyrmate with a child. She did. It was entirely the fact that this was K'lir's wish and...and it was the least she could do if he was going to part with his son. The pain was something she couldn't imagine. Hard enough when there was nothing you could do about it, but when you were forced to make the decision and know that it was your decision, even if it was the right one? And she recognized that it was. Most children would be fine with K'lir, but if Kahrelir wouldn't talk...he might go for hours, days even without knowing for sure where his son even was.
"K'von lives with me, K'lir. I can't just turn up with your son and inform him that we have a new resident." There was no snap to the words - at all. In fact, they were mostly stated to express her acceptance that Kahrelir would be hers to care for primarily. Would K'von help at times? No doubt. But K'von had his own concerns, what with his wing, and it was easier for Kalierre to keep Kahrelir with her...had she already decided, that she was thinking like this? Maybe deep down, but it was unlike her to not consider what would need to be done, to fully think things out before she made a mood. Snap decisions were reserved for emergencies. Nevertheless, she didn't care to leave K'lir in limbo for longer than necessary. It was hard enough as it was. Hard enough.
Phremath... Dohulth, Baoth's cannot take care of his little hatchling. He's asked Mine to do it, and soon the child will be brought to the infirmary so she can meet him. She would like to talk to Yours about it and thinks that maybe he would like to come meet the Hatchling at the same time? If you both aren't too busy. Kalierre brushed Phremath's mind in thanks. "If K'von can make it...I doubt he'd protest after seeing Kahrelir." Manipulative a bit? Maybe, but Kalierre knew that this was something she was going to do, with or without his permission, and it was better if K'von was okay with it. Better for everyone.
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Post by kysseh on Mar 29, 2010 18:23:52 GMT -5
Silence was the initial response to Phremath’s query. There was a distinct sense of unease from the brown as he relayed the message to His, reluctant to break up their peaceful flight with… domestic problems. When the message was finally relayed and K’von had relayed his utter confusion, the brown thought it prudent to reply. K’vonHis would not get anymore sensible until he had a moment to process. We are flying now, but we will join Yours and Baoth’s in the infirmary. He intended to come across as reassuring, but he was sure some indications of his surprise and discomfort had shone through. Hatchlings were a sensitive topic with His.
Good day. the small brown commented pleasantly to Baoth, careful to keep his overlarge wings from smacking into any of those currently perching on the warm stone. He sidestepped away from the edge and lowered his neck to allow His off, conscious of the fact that His was now thinking properly. Granted, the brownrider’s thoughts sounded as worried as they did fascinated, but at least he could form a coherent string of words. This was an improvement.
His good hand lifted enough to give the brown a brief scratch to the eyeridge before K’von pointed his feet towards the human half of the infirmary and began moving. Growling a bit around the mouthful of leather, he managed to haul both of his gloves off with a bit of difficulty, still handicapped by his weakened left hand and arm. His fine motor skills and overall strength were slow in returning, despite the fact that the arm looked far better than it had when all of the healer trappings had first come off it. The gloves were tucked into his belt quickly enough, his dark eyes quickly catching sight of the scene he had to join.
“You called?” he quipped lightly, obviously in fairly good humor despite the serious nature of the meeting. The idea of a child in their weyr was an exciting, though serious, one. It would change shardblasting everything, and while at least the pregnancy would have given them months to mentally prepare, it was all rather… sudden. That made K’von a bit nervous, though he offered up a brief smile for Kalierre, regardless. His hand slid along the back of her shoulders, lips pressing to her hair for a brief moment. “And here I am. Hello, K’lir.” It was odd to address the greenrider, all things considered, though he fervently hoped that the boy wasn’t too startled by his voice. Likely not. Big men did not walk quietly, and K’von was no exception.
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Post by glamourie on Apr 12, 2010 0:34:17 GMT -5
K’lir did not respond initially. He didn’t have much to say. His mentality was that whether K’von was involved with Kahrelir or not was up to Kalierre… it was her he was trusting. Part of him wanted to interrogate K’von – find out if he was acceptable to be around his son. It made him uncomfortable to imagine his son – the only human entity left that he loved beyond words – with someone he knew nothing about. Why didn’t he say something? Because if he was going to trust Kalierre… he had to trust her. That meant letting her keep his son around K’von if she thought that was appropriate. Did he really believe that her weyrmate would hurt Kahrelir? No. He didn’t. But he was paranoid, just the same. The greenrider’s face remained forward, blank, guarded… save for the red, puffiness around his eyes, indicating he’d been crying. He didn’t know how obvious it was or he’d have been ashamed of himself. He hated the idea of people seeing him being pathetic (but couldn’t stop himself just the same).
He didn’t have long to remain silent. A moment later, or so it felt, Baoth’s mind brushed his to tell him of the arrival of Dohulth, and K’lir forcibly shifted his features to a stony glare focused off into the corner. He didn’t know that his eyes were still red, swollen, that there was a red smear under his nose – he’d been crying hard enough that there was no hiding it, and K’lir had no idea.
Hello, Dohulth. It was civil. That was really all that Baoth offered most entities – civility. He wasn’t exactly one of her favorites, after all.
Cocking his head to the side, obviously listening, K’lir did not turn – but he didn’t have to. A moment later he heard the footsteps enter the room and he brought one hand up to rub his nose awkwardly. Showoff flared his frill testily at K’von, but said nothing. K’lir did not speak at first, not to answer the question (it wasn’t directed at him) – only when he was addressed did he wave absently at one of the walls – figuring that K’von would be able to figure out it was supposed to be directed at him. If he was paying closer attention he could figure out where the brownrider was based on the sound of movement, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t even try.
Your hatchling is on the rope bridge with Rayeveth.
Baoth’s warning made him flinch and K’lir waved a hand toward Kalierre’s direction – swatting at her. “Talk fast, dragonhealer. I don’t want to rush you, but Baoth says you’ve only got about five more minutes.” He didn’t even want to imagine what his mother’s reaction would be if Kalierre said no and she was there to hear it. Faranth forbid. His mother was a dinky woman (and it was from her that K’lir got most of his looks and temperament) and she made him cower with just glares. Then again, mothers frequently had that effect. “I don’t think I should be in the room when you two talk and I can’t exactly go anywhere.” He didn’t want to hear if K’von said no – he’d probably try to attack him and he was kind of at a massive disadvantage. Being blind and all.
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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 17, 2010 8:46:40 GMT -5
Kalierre glanced up at K'von as he entered, hiding a small smile at the clear mix of emotions on his face. The brownrider had never been that good at hiding his feelings - if he even bothered. Excitement, however, that was something she could work with, though she understood that he must be coming from a state of...well, mild shock probably. Another thing her weyrmate didn't seem to do well. He wasn't the swiftest person to adjust. Not that she minded; everyone had their flaws, and in the case of K'von, his were somewhat adorable. When they weren't frustrating. Reaching back over her shoulder to take the hand on her back, she flashed a smile at him as well. "Five minutes?" A note of incredulity. If she'd known it was that close, reluctant as she would have been, Kalierre would've made K'lir wait a day. Too late now.
Taking the greenrider's hint, she pressed into K'von, using him instead of her cane for support and herding the large man toward the door. "Come on. In my office." Only once they'd gotten inside did she turn to him, taking his chin lightly in her hand and kissing him. "Thanks for coming. I'm sorry...he said within a candlemark but I didn't expect her to be here so soon. I know it's abrupt and..." She looked away, tugging at the bottom of her shirt slightly. "I just couldn't bear seeing him cry like that, knowing how painful it must be. Having to give up his son...Kahrelir never speaks, and if he doesn't speak..." She let her voice trail off. Meeting K'von's eyes, she brushed her fingers over his jaw. "I know how sudden it is. I know. But I really want to. We can't have a child, and I know you want one. Will you at least think about it?"
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