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Post by glamourie on Apr 26, 2010 18:40:57 GMT -5
Hat. He was wearing a hat. That in and of itself wasn’t so odd. The eyecovers that he’d bought at the Gather indoors was a little more odd – but the combination was very strange on R’wign. He never wore both – actually, he rarely wore hats period. So when he came into the infirmary that morning (bright and early before the sun rose because Ka’rys needed a swift kick in the arse for making his wing drills at the most inconvenient time possible), the Weyrhealer was treated to a series of unusual looks. Most people had long-since given up questioning R’wign, though, and for good reason: he never gave any useful answers when people asked him things. He just kind of smiled, mumbled unhelpful responses and moved on. Such was R’wign. He didn’t feel the need to explain himself to anyone – least of all a bunch of apprentices who weren’t really his friends.
Wee hours of the morning meant general organization. Making sure his herbs were in the right place, checking up on the few patients with severe conditions, monitoring the progress of certain apprentices – R’wign kept busy until daybreak and then he ‘disappeared.’ Sort of. Actually, he went into Kalierre’s office, made a spot on her desk big enough for him to sit with his legs folded underneath him, and waited. She’d be arriving soon enough he was sure – rarely did he have that long to wait before it was the both of them hovering like angry, buzzing insects (he almost pitied the apprentices when the two of them were both in bad moods). It was not at all common to find R’wign in Kalierre’s office anymore – he usually went to his own. M’ta made him the most glorious set of furniture ever – why would he want to be in Kalierre’s? Answer: he was looking for her.
The reasons were petty. Stupid, even, by R’wign’s standards, though R’wign was not a good judge. He… wanted someone to talk to. Someone that he felt like he could trust. It was weird – R’wign didn’t talk about things and if he did, it was usually to M’ta – but… true nonetheless. Checkoth could only help so much.
In the past, Kalierre hadn’t exactly proven herself the best person to talk to about feelings. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to talk to her about them. But what other options did he have? The truth was, he felt… very alone. It was a strange feeling, one that he was not used to and didn’t know how to react to at all. His whole life, he’d been very good at taking emotions and swallowing them. Couldn’t hurt if you didn’t feel, right? He’d react but not in the normal fashion – ever since he was a child. Since he first became a healer. Instead of crying as his patient died of burn wounds – and all he could do was give them fellis to try and dull the pain, make them suffer less as their life came winding to an end – he’d be hysterical because someone else’s pet sprained its leg and would never walk again. It was wildly difficult to explain to anyone who felt things normally. But he’d never been lonely. He just hadn’t. He didn’t see much point in talking to other people about how he felt – he never had – until that morning. When he’d woken up, he wanted to talk to someone… and not M’ta.
So he’d reasoned in his mind that Kali would be the best person to talk to. It was probably stupid. He was sure to regret it. He was. He knew that, even as he sat on her desk, but he didn’t move. Checkoth’s mental reassurance helped some. The gentle prodding, insistence that “Phremath’s is your friend” helped. Some. Not enough. He still wanted to skitter away and pretend to be fine when he wasn’t. But… he’d promised Check to try. Try. And a promise to Checkoth meant everything to him. So… there he sat. Waiting. Awkwardly. Fortunately, he doubted he’d have too long to wait. Especially if one of the apprentices told Kalierre that he was in her office. She was sure to come in worried that he’d messed with her files. Predictability was a good trait…? Sort of?
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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 27, 2010 23:32:44 GMT -5
Kalierre was...not terribly pleased. No, she wasn't upset or even out of sorts enough to be called irritated. Nevertheless, a bundle of joy she was not. The reason? It wasn't the fact that she'd apparently decided to get wider in the hips while pregnant and retain enough of the weight to be bothersome. (Her waist was most definitely back to its normal trimness, but her hips, likely due to injury, refused to be so kind.) Nor was it the fact that with her waist returned to normal and her hips - not - that the pants she'd worn during pregnancy fit no better than the ones she'd worn before. These were, however, contributing factors to the necessity to wear a skirt. To work. At the infirmary. A most...unsavory thing, to the dragonhealer. So yes, she wasn't her normal cheerful bubbly self...oh, wait, she was never cheerful and bubbly, was she? Which was likely why no one noticed when her cane fell just a touch sharper on the stone of the infirmary, or when her eyes flashed on the apprentices just that bit quicker and more...judgmental. Subtle, subtle was the difference. Though they did notice her skirt, and a ripple of whisperings followed her when they thought she couldn't hear. Her hearing was...better...than they thought. Not that she made any indication of it.
The oddness of her attire, however, did indeed prevent anyone from mentioning her unusual visitor. Thus she didn't expect to find a curiously garbed - hatted, rather - Weyrhealer sitting meditatively on the center of her desk. Her eyes narrowed slightly, gaze flickering over the haphazard piles of files always left mazelike all over the floor. Her...queer...organizational system that R'wign ever-so-helpfully offered to 'fix'. And by offered, that was to say, he decided to put them in nice neat little filing cabinets in some ridiculous order while she was not there, forcing her to spend candlemarks rebuilding her maze just to find a single file. Clearly that wasn't what he was about today, though.
Flicking the file of paperwork she'd lugged home with her the night before (which she hadn't gotten to as she'd intended, a most familiar ritual) onto the desk beside him, she poked him in the gut lightly with the end of her cane. "Between the two of us, the apprentices are going to think the plague is running its course again. What's with the getup?" A gesture toward the hat, though she didn't - quite - unhat him, much as she was tempted to. The woman slipped around her desk, quickly going through her drawers to be certain everything was in its proper place while flicking little appraising glances at the younger male who was currently making her desk a meditation mat of sorts. "I'd imagine your desk is far more comfortable, considering it's better than mine in ever other way." Though she'd gotten his weyrmate - or, rather, R'wign had held her there under duress until she'd agreed to the terms to make said furniture - to furnish her office similarly. Would likely be waiting for awhile, though.
Then, because Kalierre was blunt as ever, she came back around and levered herself up on the other side of him - the side with no file of unfinished papers - and asked, "All right. So why are you here, then?" Because he was ever so self-sufficient in his job and hardly needed her input. If it was something of trifling importance - or work-related at all - he likely would have waited until they crossed paths in the infirmary, rather than planting himself on her desk. (Yes, she'd come to that conclusion the instant she saw him and her untouched files, which was why the door to her office was now shut.)
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Post by glamourie on May 1, 2010 2:58:06 GMT -5
She was wearing a skirt. It wasn’t revealing enough. Those were the two thoughts that went through R’wign’s head as Kalierre entered her office, and they were also the primary thing that kept him from responding to her verbally. He wasn’t distracted in the traditional sense – some men might’ve found her attractive and yeah, once upon a time he had too – no, R’wign was busy wondering (in a decidedly interesting mimicry of his weyrmate) whether she had weapons hidden under that skirt. That was the only way, he reasoned, that the dragonhealer would come into the infirmary wearing something like that. It just wasn’t like Kalierre to do anything feminine. (He remembered her wearing a dress to a Gather and being quite surprised by that too – until she walked up and latched a collar onto his neck; he still wore it too.) He cocked his head to the side, obviously thoughtful, and brought one hand up to rub his nose.
“I’m incognito. If I wear a hat, they won’t know it’s me and therefore, won’t bother asking me questions. They’ll save those for you,” he said pleasantly, though the look on his face was obviously puzzled. He resigned himself to avoiding asking – even if it was tempting – why she was dressed that way. Silly Kalierre. Or something. Curiosity wasn’t a trait that R’wign managed well, as evidenced by his distinct fidgeting. The healer didn’t touch though. No touching. Very well behaved, he was being. See? He hadn’t even moved her records. He was being good. “And my desk is infinitely more comfortable, yes.” He didn’t bother to hide the smugness in his words or from his face. He loved his furniture set and for good reason – it was made for him by someone that he loved. Counted as beyond special, as far as R’wign was concerned. M’ta was that important to him. And so much more. Thoughts aside, R’wign crinkled his nose.
And watched her close the door with silent glee. Good.
“You always suspect me of ill motives. So short with me. Can’t I just want to talk to my dear, beloved dragonhealer?” he asked, sounding faintly hurt. It was an act. A very good act, yes, but an act nonetheless. R’wign knew very well that Kalierre knew him too well to trust his wicked schemes, so why did he try? Because it amused him. He was all about things that kept him entertained, however fleeting they may have been. Like razzing Kali. Besides, she so deserved it. “My oldest friend at Selenitas… after Ka’rys, who I am not sure counts as a friend so much as an evil overlord who exists solely to boss people around and hover, kind of like an omen in physical form. I’m not even sure he’s human.” He crinkled his nose. “Speaking of which, I apologize in advance for his poisoning his entire wing if they come in sick. Which they probably will. I expect they’re all dumb.” His dearest weyrmate included.
That thought was followed by a very slight smile as R’wign pushed himself off the edge of the desk and removed his hat. His hair fell down around his face and he mussed it for a moment, until it was in the style he favored – for the haircut he’d gotten that morning. It was long and over the empty cavity where his eye should have been, while short enough in the back to not be a nuisance. The hair wasn’t the only change though – but the others weren’t brand new. For instance, he’d put the piercing back in his lip, stubbornly, despite it being yanked out – instead of rings to easily grip though, he had posts. The swelling had finally gone down too – enough to fiddle with, anyway.
“How do you handle bratty behavior from your weyrmate?” The question was honestly interested, his head cocking to the side. “Honest – spitefully bratty behavior? I haven’t run into this much, I don’t know what an appropriate response is…”
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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 May 5, 2010 23:46:22 GMT -5
Kalierre smirked slightly at him. Yes. The hat would definitely cause less questions. Of course. "Took my idea," she commented dryly. "Apparently showing a little leg doesn't shock people into silence." Cue slightly overplayed weary sigh. The dragonhealer didn't bother to hide her envy over R'wign's office furniture, either; she nudged him with her cane in silent protest. Yes, yes, the furniture was better, she knew that already - but for the price of a dress at a Joining she'd have her own set soon enough. No doubt not quite as good as R'wign's, but at least it would be more comfortable. Had to be better than what she currently had, anyway.
The woman snorted openly at his 'hurt' play. How often did she have a R'wign come visit? Ever so rarely. It wasn't that the didn't associate, merely that he had no need to seek her out just to chat her up or mess around. What with working in the same place and all. When he did feel the need to come calling, he either had some special form of torture in mind to come tease her about, or a serious topic of conversation that she likely would have no good answers for. Or answers he wouldn't want to hear. Or...well, much as she tried to be a good friend to him, Kalierre wasn't a R'wign and didn't do things the same, or think the same. That wasn't to say she wouldn't try...unless he'd just come to tease. About what she wasn't quite sure. Yet.
"He poisoned his entire wing." Her voice was flat. Really? Really?! After a moment, though, all she could do was chuckle and shake her head. If anyone would do that, it would be Ka'rys, most definitely. "Tell me it has some sort of training purpose, and I'll pretend not to be irked about it," Kalierre responded, a touch of wry amusement in her voice. Of course there was a purpose. That or Ka'rys wanted a few days off from his own wing drills. She supposed that was always a possibility.
Her head cocked to one side as the hat came off, revealing the new haircut. After a moment she decided it suited him well enough, even as she drummed her heels lightly against the side of the desk, waiting for R'wign to get to whatever purpose he had...and sure enough, he did. Just as expected, too, it was a weird question. Kalierre spent a good long moment blinking at him mutely. "If you want the short answer? I don't. K'von's not bratty. Childish, yes, spiteful at times. But bratty? That's more my department."
The woman leaned back on her hands, looking at him curiously. "I'm not even sure what you mean by spitefully bratty. If you've been with him a turn, though, and haven't really run into it before, I'd be asking myself why, personally." She wrinkled her nose. "Suppose that's not particularly helpful."
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Post by glamourie on May 6, 2010 7:17:13 GMT -5
Like he had any idea what she was wearing. Pfft. R’wign didn’t respond – not to Kalierre’s words or the cane jab (save for a mock-wince and clutching his chest – such an abusive brute she was). He didn’t come to play – even if it was fun. Most of his ‘playing’ was done with people he was more comfortable with – serious playing anyway. R’wign hadn’t been entirely comfortable with Kalierre since their last big fight. Part of him still felt incredibly guilty about that and yes, he’d been keeping it to himself; pretending everything was fine when he definitely wasn’t. R’wign never voiced problems until they just exploded outwardly. It wasn’t in his nature. And it was more natural to him to just distance himself. Distance himself… and never give voice. And never have it be noticed. His presence there was… more necessity than anything else. He had nowhere else to turn. His usual advice giver was wildly biased in the face of the situation, heh.
“Um. I just mean spitefully bratty. Like – he’s always bratty,” R’wign said with a crinkle of his nose, and gave her a look. “We bicker over stupid things. We’re not perfect or weird.” He felt kind of defensive – mainly because he knew that he and M’ta had their own ridiculous couple problems, but nothing irreparable. Typical things. STOP LEAVING YOUR CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR kind of rages. Nothing major… but this was… a new department for him. “We pick at each other, we bicker – but he’s never done anything to deliberately spite me. I mean, yeah, that’s kind of more my department too, but I don’t usually – I – it’s hard to explain without giving you details that I don’t think you want. I usually do things for reactions – I admit it. But he’s never turned it around on me – ‘til now. Normal response is turnabout is fair play, yeah, but I think it went a little too far this time. Does that help any?”
She hadn’t commented on his hair. That actually bothered R’wign more than he was willing to admit. Oh, he didn’t think Kalierre cared much about his appearance – his vanity notwithstanding, he doubted most people noticed little changes in his day-to-day look, but the haircut was actually pretty dramatic, considering that it had grown down to past his chin. Or maybe it was only dramatic to him and he was over-reacting. He didn’t give any indication out loud. Better to not express a weird response than to risk making himself look even more awkward than he already did.
Leaning back on the desk, R’wign spread his hands out at his sides, making himself completely comfortable. As an almost after thought, he added, “You might not want to bother with the dress, by the way.” A heart beat later, he realized how his words sounded and tacked on, “I don’t think either one of us wants a crowd of people coming, so – yeah. I wouldn’t bother with the dress. Also, I saw how your furniture was coming along. Mine is still better.” Spiteful brat, who, R’wign? Only sometimes. It was to be expected though – after all, M’ta was his weyrmate. “They’re nice though. I think I’m boring M’ta – he’s working on them more than spending time with me. Obviously this requires something drastic for attention. I’m thinking shaving my head is the only appropriate reaction.” Because R’wign would obviously do that. He wasn’t conceited or anything – no, never.
Not like she’d noticed the haircut anyway. Tch.
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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 May 8, 2010 8:28:45 GMT -5
Kalierre couldn't help the small, amused smile. She saw these two together fairly often in her infirmary; how they behaved toward one another wasn't news to her. Bratty, childish, playful...all characterized their relationship. Was he reluctant to admit that they had their own problems? Or simply determined to make her see that they weren't bad ones? "I admire how close you two seem to be..." She commented almost absently. Truthfully. Capable of lying, there was no denying how blunt she'd become over the turns. Spitefully bratty. An eyebrow rose as she listened to what he had to say. It sounded a lot like he didn't really need her input - or wanted it, if he was determined to keep things vague.
"Details don't bug me, R'wign. That's entirely your call," she responded, snorting softly. Yeah. Turn it back on her - as if she'd ever told him or indicated that she didn't care to listen to specifics. Many things she might be, ridiculously blunt amongst them, but unwilling to listen wasn't one of them. For anyone, really, but especially when it was - strangely - the best of her friends. (Admittedly that wasn't so high an honor when you considered that only R'wign, K'von and Dorava were those she considered to be friends.) "Since you're giving me generalities...as far as I can see it you really only have two options if you want to feel like you're being fair about it." Kalierre didn't add that it sounded almost selfish, the way he phrased it, like he didn't feel right about his own response and that was driving this more than the desire to treat his weyrmate fairly. Thought that might just be because she'd seen M'ta in the infirmary just yesterday, and whatever was bugging R'wign didn't seem to be bothering him at all; the short brownrider was behaving as he always did.
And yes, she'd been around both of them long enough to know when they were upset, especially at each other. Heh. Something she chose to keep out of for the most part. No sense being caught in the crossfire when you weren't invited.
"You can either let it go when he behaves the same way you do, or stop acting that way yourself so your irritation is more justified." A mild shrug. "Without any specifics that's the best I can do."
Kalierre blinked at him about the dress, not commenting until he clarified, then merely nodded. They'd gone shy, hm? That or it had gotten bigger than they planned...a well-liked couple, those two, or so it would seem. The dragonhealer knew some people who would be disappointed, one of her apprentices included, but she didn't blame them. (Or mind getting her furniture without the price of wearing a dress in public. Hah!) Ignoring the little stab at her furniture entirely - though she did shoot a wry little smirk at R'wign - Kali laughed outright at a shaved bald weyrhealer.
The woman poked him lightly on the arm. "If you're the same way with him that you are with the rest of us while twitchy, I'd spend a lot of time with them too," she commented lightly, not completely teasing. Her eyes flicked toward his face, the smile undiminished. "Though I seriously doubt even shaving your head bald would work if your most recent change has gone unnoticed." She flicked at the hair in front of his empty eye socket. "Hard to get much more dramatic a change than this. Except maybe dyeing it pink." Her nose wrinkled playfully. "It's a good look for you, though, I think." For R'wign, yes. Most people really couldn't pull it off. Heh.
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Post by glamourie on May 9, 2010 5:50:31 GMT -5
…
He was pretty sure that Kalierre didn’t really want to know specifics. She’d never actually said she didn’t, but it was just a leap of logic: he didn’t particularly care about the details of her relationship with K’von and he especially didn’t like to be reminded of it, and it wasn’t even remotely the same seeing as – well, he didn’t think it was. Either way, he wasn’t sure she understood exactly what she was asking, but since her answer was impressively unhelpful, R’wign brought one hand up, scratched his head, and resigned himself to explaining. Telling people his private business wasn’t exactly one of his favorite things to do though, so he waited until she was done speaking (and spared her a very unfriendly look in regards to the comment about his behavior while twitchy – he thought he was being perfectly reasonable to M’ta, since he wasn’t being mean in any way) to cock his head to the side and regard the dragonhealer.
“You want details. Say you don’t mind. Fine. I flirt with everything that moves. He doesn’t – and I’m not mad if he wants to. But I don’t run around kissing people who aren’t him to make him jealous. That’s over my line. And I know he didn’t mean for it to go that far – but if Sel’n hadn’t stopped him, I do wonder how far it would have gone, and that makes me annoyed. So, what is an appropriate response?”
He didn’t do the thing he was upset about. Namely, he didn’t run around kissing people. Of course, he knew damn well that M’ta didn’t either. The sheer level of guilt his weyrmate displayed made that obvious. That was why he was upset, actually – because he knew that M’ta felt bad. His mind instantly said, “He feels bad, I should go easy on him” but he thought he was every bit justified in being irritated, too. Conflicted feelings were bad. He felt terrible that he was upset. M’ta was upset, too, or had been – he hadn’t really mentioned it beyond fleetingly; R’wign didn’t bring it up because he didn’t want to fight, but he did feel weird. How much was too much of a reaction? Her comment about being twitchy earned a disdainful look that spoke volumes of his mood. He thought he was under-reacting. Kali was probably not the best person to talk to about it, but –
“My philosophy is that if I don’t like when someone does something, I don’t do it. So – yes, I flirt, but that’s it, because I’m entirely too jealous and possessive to tolerate anything more. As for my twitchy behavior, I’ve actually been trying to be nice – he seemed very upset, more upset than I was, and I don’t want to make him feel hideous. It doesn’t change that I’m annoyed, though,” R’wign said with an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t know what – I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. M’ta doesn’t do things that upset me – like – nothing big. Not like this. I mean, okay, he leaves his clothes on the floor and I periodically want to beat him to death with them for it, but it goes away within five seconds. And yes, he moves things in the bathing cavern and I twitch, but I have an obsession problem and that’s my fault. I’m sure I do things that make him want to punch me too – I mean, I’m impossible to live with – but that’s not like this.”
Rambling; he was rambling. He did that when nervous, and R’wign wasn’t even trying to disguise his anxiety. If she got sassier with him he’d just never come to her again. Ever. He wasn’t really in the mood to be teased; he was… nervous. Feeling inadequate. R’wign had a gift for that, really.
Following her movement with his eye, he frowned. “Oh, now you comment. He got annoyed at me for not asking before dying it last time so I’ll be good and not do so now. But he never said I couldn’t shave it.” Okay yes he did, but R’wign was ignoring that. “I don’t like being ignored for furniture. And he hasn’t seen the haircut yet. I got it done right before coming in. It’s supposed to be a surprise so expect his head to explode come lunch 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 May 9, 2010 11:01:00 GMT -5
She really couldn't stop herself...maybe she shouldn't have felt that way, but the woman visibly shied back from him at the vehemence of his response. It might have managed to be subtle enough not to notice - if she hadn't been already sitting on the corner of the desk. Kalierre managed to keep herself from falling off, but it involved clutching at the desktop and a brief flail of limbs. Her head swiveled toward him, dipped low and half-concealing her expression. Maybe the flush of embarrassment at her reaction, maybe the touch of wild flicking through her eyes. It was really, really beginning to feel like all she ever got for any attempt to be a friend to R'wign was a kick between the teeth. Maybe what she said was wrong, but what could you expect when she had nothing to go on?
And it wasn't just today, either. Nothing she said was right with him, not unless they were joking around like he did with everyone else. Her natural inclination was to believe it was her. Kalierre wasn't stupid; she knew that she was too blunt. Even when she tried to soften that, it often came out wrong. Yes, her natural inclination was to believe it was her, but she was beginning to get the feeling that it really...wasn't. Or, that if it was, it was a problem with her in her entirety, something she had no control over. She tried softening things, tried being direct, tried being sympathetic, tried keeping it light...tried and tried and tried. Now she felt as if she was being attacked. It bypassed her bristle reaction and went straight to the more hidden, deeply engrained submissive reaction. A part of herself she'd been trying to change. Or cover over.
And yet, and yet.
Stop this. He wasn't upset with her. Even if he was, what was she afraid of? R'wign wasn't going to throw her around, she wasn't a little teenage girl out of her element...Kalierre's back straightened, eyes finding his for a long moment. Was it bad, that her thoughts drifted back, hinging on not showing weakness, not challenging? Not a target. It was surprisingly easy to slip back into that mentality. "He kissed Sel'n?" A question with no need for an answer. A stalling question, in all honesty. Putting herself in a similar position wasn't easy; R'wign didn't talk to her enough for her to really know...but they were getting Joined. That wasn't weyrbred mentality. Neither of them were weyrbred, were they?
"People usually don't feel guilty unless they've done something wrong." The words were offered quietly. "Should you really have to temper your own response, just because he feels sorry? I think it would be unfair of him to expect you to cater to him just because he feels bad about it." Smoothing down her skirt, she crossed her ankles, eyes dipping down to the hands in her lap. "Who knows? It might be...easier on him...if you're not too nice. Hard not to feel guilty when you do something like that and the person you upset is nice about it. I'd feel...more guilty. To be honest. And wonder if maybe that wasn't the intent." She ran her thumb along the back of her knuckles, an all too-familiar weariness settling over her.
"I'm sorry if him making things for me is a problem. You can tell him not to; I won't mind." R'wign had suggested it to begin with, after all.
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Post by glamourie on May 10, 2010 6:05:42 GMT -5
… jeez, act like he’d hit her…
R’wign blinked, twice, and instantly schooled his expression to disguise any feelings. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done to merit the response he got – it was helpful enough, he supposed, but distant – and in the end, R’wign wasn’t sure he cared. He was good enough at reading people to pick up on a surge of increased tension. And what was R’wign’s natural response to conflict? Flee. Always. Only, he didn’t immediately run off. There was a time when he probably would have but – not anymore. It should have hurt that he didn’t really care that it was very obvious something was wrong, but… the last time he’d expressed caring over Kalierre, she went running back to a weyrmate who couldn’t even be bothered to come to her after she’d lost their only chance at a child. It was pretty obvious she didn’t want anyone else to care about her – and R’wign had given up trying. He didn’t see a point in wasting emotions on people who didn’t want them. His own weren’t stable enough to bother.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks Kalierre,” he said with a slight nod. Full name usage was rarely good, but eh, R’wign didn’t much care at that moment. He eyed her for a moment before tacking on, “You’re being ridiculous, just so you know. I was teasing – if I minded, I wouldn’t have harassed him into doing it in the first place. Anyway, I doubt M’ta would like me telling him to scrap a project just because I’m feeling clingy, though thanks for the offer.” He eyed her for a moment, stepping back – deliberately putting distance. Part of him wanted to call her on that slip – on the sudden tension, the weird response and blatant insecurity. Part of him wanted to even be mean about it, point out that she had no right to suddenly be upset when he was being nice and even telling her something that was painfully difficult for him to voice. Did he? No. R’wign didn’t like conflict.
And the days when he cared enough to try with Kalierre were gone. He felt like it was a waste of his time – and her response just affirmed it. She said she wanted details – he gave them – she buckled down and acted weird about it. The snarky voice in his mind was saying, “I told you so” and he saw no reason to argue with it. Instead, R’wign backed up and pushed open the door again with one hand.
“You know,” he said, so softly that it might’ve been hard to catch it. He glanced over his shoulder and eyed her for a moment, a hint of irritation fluttering over his face. “Checkoth keeps telling me that I need to voice my feelings. Tells me that I need to talk to people – that bottling isn’t right. So I came here – to try and not bottle my feelings anymore. And for my trouble, I get you acting like I slapped you. And instead of feeling sorry for you, all I really feel is anger.” And his voice actually indicated it. He turned around and pressed his back to the door. He should’ve left. He didn’t really want to fight – but he also was very tired of not fighting. If she wanted to act like he’d slapped her, he may as well give her a reason to respond that way, as far as his mind was concerned. “My weyrmate of three turns died – my sister died – my eye got torn out – most of my friends died – my best friend was comatose with illness – and you never said a word to me; you never even came to see if I was all right.” There was definitely a note of anger there. “When you came back… you didn’t even ask. You’ve never asked. Well, Kalierre, I wasn’t all right. I spent close to a turn wanting to die, and you, who were supposed to be my friend, didn’t notice.”
It was probably bratty to rub that in her face, but that didn’t take away from the truth. He’d been angry for quite some time – but… part of him felt like it was pointless to voice things. He still felt like it was a waste of his breath, but he owed it to Checkoth to at least express himself. And he’d promised M’ta that he’d argue with him if he was being unreasonable. Why shouldn’t that have applied to everyone? Kalierre wasn’t expressly saying anything wrong – in fact, her words were fine – but R’wign recognized walls going up; he did it too often himself not to. And he was angry about it – angry that all it took was him being twitchy, not even really mad. Hypocritical. How much of her shit had he put up with? How many times had he tried to calm her after Dorava? How many days had he stood by her after she lost the baby, and she didn’t even seem to acknowledge it? She’d never been there for him when he needed her – and she was just proving it again and again and again…
“You didn’t ask if I was all right after Fort attacked either. You never ask. You don’t notice anything until it’s smack you in the face obvious and I don’t like conflict enough to stand and fight. But I’m not stupid and I do notice things, like tension, panicking, nearly falling off tables – if you want to act like you’re being hit, I can give you quite a few reasons, starting with the fact that I don’t like being abandoned by one of the only surviving friends I have left. But then, I doubt it dawned on you that after Benden attacked us, the only people left alive that I knew were you, Tr’esn, M’ta , K’lir and Ka’rys. And that of them, M’ta was in a coma, and Ka’rys was busy doting on his idiotic weyrmate. No, things like that never dawn on you. You want to act like I’m yelling at you – this is me angry with you Kalierre – can you tell the difference now?”
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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 May 12, 2010 9:05:26 GMT -5
Yes. Go. Just...go. She was disgusted with herself, above anything else, but no, she didn't feel angry. Tired, maybe, not willing to put out the effort over and over only to have him twitch and rage at her. Kalierre didn't know what his deal was, but it didn't matter...clearly it was still there and she wasn't going to be getting past it. Surprisingly more patient than most would have guessed, it had been well over a turn since anything had been remotely normal between them. Perhaps her fault. Who knew? And as long as he wasn't going to say what his sharding problem was? She never would know. Kalierre didn't pry. It wasn't in her nature. A matter of respect, when it came right down to it; she didn't want anyone prying in her business, so she returned them the same courtesy.
All she knew was she couldn't dredge up the anger that normally shielded her so well, and in it's place...disgusting. Weak. Kalierre's eyes flicked up toward R'wign's face at mention of Checkoth. Was it terrible that the thing she noticed most was that his back was to the door and he clearly wasn't leaving? Lust hissed at that moment, unheard for all that he was still back at her weyr. Kalierre soothed him, feeling Phre's confusing stirring at the back of her mind and shoring up those links until they couldn't feel her anymore. Or, at least, Phremath couldn't.
Perhaps she should have thanked R'wign for staying, however, because as he spoke the weariness was quickly giving way to a surge of irritation. Her dark eyes narrowed on him as he continued his fit. His whining. What, did he think she was afraid of his...anger? That R'wign scared her? Kalierre, scared by the Weyrhealer...was almost laughable. Yes, certainly, that was it, she was reacting because he was angry. Kalierre always responded this way to anger. The one time her weyrmate had ever laid a hand on her she'd gone off into a corner and cowered too. Ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as this...what was it, an attempt at a guilt trip?
She let him finish though, partly out of courtesy and partly because she didn't want to just let her response flow out unchecked. Kalierre managed to keep her voice level - soft even. "You're right. I just abandoned you. Not as if I had any reason to stay in the weyr." Her eyes met his evenly. "For knowing me as long as you have, you sure are blind. Do people have to say things to you for you to understand that they care about you? Are you that insecure? I'd no more ask someone in your position if they were okay than I'd ask someone with their side ripped open if they were having a good day. You didn't ask about me, either, and I appreciated it. I prefer not to be reminded. So excuse me if I thought other people might be the same."
Twisting the skirt beneath her hands, fisted in her fingers, she sighed. "See, I can actually tell when people care about me. You've always been there for me. Not verbally, but you have. You make me want to strangle you half the time...especially acting all strange all the time. Coming to me about things, getting pissed when I try to help, avoiding me like I'm diseased for sevendays on end. Your weyrmate makes you happy and helps you far more than I do, so I let him after Fort. Why would I try to help when every time I try you storm off? R'wign, I don't know what you expect me to do when I have no clue what your sharding issue is."
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Post by glamourie on May 12, 2010 16:48:54 GMT -5
… did he say she didn’t have any reason to stay in her weyr? No, he was pretty sure he didn’t. He was also pretty sure he didn’t say she was wrong in that respect, but her comments that followed weren’t right. “No, I don’t need people to tell me they care. I need people to recognize when I’m not okay,” he said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “You’re either deliberately being obtuse, or you honestly don’t understand, and I don’t know which one frustrates me more. I didn’t ask about you because you had K’von to talk to, and I figured you would talk to him. That’s what having a weyrmate is for.” And his had died, something that either she didn’t recognize, or didn’t care. Not just that: Marra died, and so did Religna, and so did half his friends. And M’ta – his best friend – was in a coma. He didn’t think it was unreasonable for someone to notice that he was totally and completely alone. He didn’t think of it as insecurity to want someone to notice the fact that he didn’t eat half the time, that he slept about three candlemarks a night if that, and that he didn’t express any emotions properly again. And maybe she had noticed – but she didn’t do anything to help until he freaked out on her. No one did. Wasn’t he entitled to be angry over that? Yes – he was, as far as he was concerned.
Her next comments, though, puzzled him and he cocked his head to the side. “You think I was mad at you for what you said about M’ta that day – before you lost the baby? You’re more unobservant than I thought. No, it wouldn’t be because you accused me of finding you cold or anything – wouldn’t be because you seemed angry and hurt and I don’t know how to respond to that without making it worse, no, it has to be that I’m mad at you. Here’s a clue: I have a lot less trouble expressing anger than I do dealing with people who seem upset with me and I don’t understand why.” He shook his head, rubbing his temples. He should’ve left; it was just running circles. He was stubborn though, and he didn’t feel like “running off” – besides, his competitive side said he was winning. Was it even possible to win an argument? It definitely made it easier to stay put – childish as he was sure the thought was.
“You’re right. M’ta does comfort me better, and that’s why I didn’t lose my temper on you afterwards… further proving my point. Did you forget that everyone close to me died in the Siege, Kalierre? That I found Marra’s body in our bathing rooms? That the man who cut my eye out killed my sister? Yeah, it must suck to still have most of your friends alive. How many people close to you died in that attack? Maybe you’re used to people around you dying, but I’m not and I didn’t have anyone to talk to. My best friend was in a coma, and all of my other friends were indisposed, for one reason or another. And then when you came back, you didn’t even seem to acknowledge that I wasn’t okay. So yes, forgive me if it makes me very angry that I spent half a turn feeling completely alone. You might be more comfortable with people not asking, but you know what? I’m not. Because if no one asks, I bury it all and it eventually explodes and I end up feeling worse than before. I can’t believe that you haven’t noticed this about me after knowing me for so long. M’ta figured it out in less than two months of knowing me – knowing me. And you’re not that ignorant. You just - … and you wonder why I would question whether you care?”
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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 May 12, 2010 22:14:17 GMT -5
Kalierre listend to all he had to say. Without interruption. She wasn't interested in an argument, much as he seemed to want one. The dragonhealer didn't understand what his purpose even was. Feel better by getting it all out? By painting her as some heartless villain or ignorant buffoon? Maybe just to argue...No, she didn't know. "When people talk things out, R'wign, they talk them out. Not explode with it and pelt the other person. This isn't constructive." Was she being condescending? Possibly, but he was acting like a child. As if problems in communication - which, yes, that's exactly what this was - could be blamed on any one person. And as long as he refused to take any responsibility whatsoever for it and simply accuse and insult her, well...they weren't going to get anywhere.
"I'm not your emotional safekeeper. I'm not going to sit here and poke at you for hours to get you to tell me what's bothering you through a myriad of 'I'm fines'. You want me to acknowledge that you're not okay? What do you call convincing you not to give up on the only thing you had left? It wasn't to keep you on staff. I want you here. You make my life easier. But I've been a healer for twenty turns and we have more people here than we did; I don't need you, R'wign. I listen to you. I helped you out after Meira had your baby. I cater to your ego and your self-image issues... I let you make your blanket judgements to the point of nausea, deal with the emotional upheavals that no, I can't translate.
"Though that's clearly not noticing or acknowledging anything. You want to know who I lost in the siege? I lost the only friend I have left. Oh, I've been stubbornly attempting to hold onto him, but that doesn't change the facts. I lost you, I lost the ability to sleep alone at night, I lost most of the self-confidence K'von had, I lost any chance at going through even one day without pain... Just because I'm not an emotional wreck where everyone can see doesn't mean it was easy on me. And it's unfair for you to hold me to higher standards than you would yourself. So now I have to interpret you completely correctly when you can't do the same with me? If you told me what you felt, or expressed it honestly instead of hiding and running, I might be able to understand you better.
"You come to me, looking for advice, and call it what you will, R'wign, but all you ever give me when I try to help is sarcasm, insults and irritation. My advice might be pisspoor, but you don't have to take it. I'm not going to apologize for misinterpretting rude, bratty, sarcastic statements as anger. It certainly isn't nice. It seems to me you come expecting me not only to not be helpful, but expecting us to part on bad terms. With that sort of expectation it's bound to come true. I don't know if you're playing some who's right and who's wrong game, or what the deal is, but this game is one we're both losing.
"I'm not going to stop trying. I'm not going to run away from you, and I'm not going to avoid you. If you need my help I will try, just as I always have. But the ball's in your court. I think we can make this work if we're honest with each other, but I know it will never work as long as you won't give me a chance. Make your decision. It's up to you and always has been."
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Post by glamourie on May 13, 2010 1:27:06 GMT -5
… why… was he wasting his time? It just felt like such a waste. R’wign brought one hand up and stoked his own temple, remaining perfectly silent save for a very obvious flinch – as if smacked. No other words though. His mind was busily explaining to him that this was exactly why he didn’t talk about things. This was why he didn’t try to make others understand. No one ever seemed to understand him. Maybe he was just messed up. The thought explained a lot. He leaned his head back on the door, in an attempt to clear out the rapidly forming migraine, and the snotty little voice in his mind was listing out everything she said.
Bratty. Rude. Snotty. Egotistical. Self-image issues. Unfair. Sarcastic. Insulting.
And she wondered why he didn’t want to try? She wondered why he got angry at having to tell her anything personal? The second he did, she turned around and used it against him. But of course, he was the one completely in the wrong. Always. And if he told Kalierre that insulting him didn’t make him any more likely to be nice to her, she’d say she wasn’t. Because she was never wrong. It was just a big, vicious circle. And R’wign was rapidly giving up. It just hurt to bother. There were only a handful of people on Pern that he cared enough to put himself open with, and she’d been one of them. But explaining got him nowhere. Explaining just got him told how he was wrong, she was right, and he should just suck it up. Because that was what it sounded like to him. That was how her response came across. And he was… suddenly very tired. Whether what she said was true or not was irrelevant in that moment… because she chose then to point it out. And he didn’t need to be reminded that he was flawed.
“Give you a chance…? In the past five minutes, you’ve called me bratty, rude, snotty, egotistical, unfair, sarcastic, insulting, said I have self-image issues, that I expect mollycoddling, and essentially implied that all I do is make you walk on eggshells – and you ask me to give you a chance? Would you? All I wanted,” he said quietly, “was for you to understand why I’ve been upset with you for turns. But… you can’t even understand that. You can’t even listen to me without becoming defensive. You justified everything away and missed the bigger picture. I will spell it out to you, Kalierre. I can’t talk about things. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that when I try, I feel sick.” And with her, he was left feeling like he should never have been born. She just insulted him every time he tried – or took his fumbling as insults herself. Why try? What did it gain him? Were they ever really even friends?
… no. He didn’t think they were. Because Kalierre hadn’t ever noticed, in the entire time she knew him, that he couldn’t talk about his problems. He couldn’t. It was compulsive. Faranth knew he tried with M’ta, and it was getting better, but the second he voiced a complaint, if someone reacted even slightly badly, everything was for naught. Maybe he was just too damaged to ever have friends. That was a very sad concept. M’ta didn’t seem to have that much trouble with him, but then, he loved him, so of course he didn’t. And everyone else – none of them really understood. Especially not Kalierre.
He really needed to leave.
“Chances are two-way streets. If all I do is make you feel horrible, make you cater to my ego, it’s better if I go. Thank you for trying, though.”
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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 May 13, 2010 16:06:04 GMT -5
Part of her wanted to walk up and smack him upside the head. Kalierre was being very level, exceedingly calm for her. In fact, R'wign rarely if ever got her rages like the rest of the population. She didn't understand what he was flinching over. Blunt as she was, the woman didn't tend to notice insults she gave other people, particularly when they'd just gotten through sniping at her. (He could claim he was trying to help her understand all he wanted, but it was sniping. There was very little about what he'd said that could be classified as anything else.) But yes, it definitely irritated her that he got mad at her for flinching back and closing off - then went and did it himself. When she was no more upset than he'd claimed to be, no less.
The dragonhealer stood, moving to lean against the door beside him. "Stop it." Her eyes narrowed upon his face, voice gentling. "Just stop it, R'wign. I'm not trying to insult you...I just find it difficult to passively listen when people are angry and throwing accusations at me." She pinched the bridge of her nose lightly. "I'm not trying to justify anything, either. I'm not arguing with you, R'wign. This isn't a Kalierre vs. R'wign thing. Okay? I know you have trouble expressing yourself, I know. I didn't know to what extent. I know you avoid conflict, which isn't good for anyone. Breeds resentment. I'm sorry that I consistently misinterpret, that I didn't ask after you, that you had to deal with all that at once at all. And I'm sorry that I react like you're angry at me when you're not."
She regarded him tiredly, letting the door take her weight. "I'm not trying to argue with you or justify anything. I'm trying...to let you know that even though you have a right to your feelings, they're based on misconceptions. Just as the way I deal with you is based on misconceptions. I do care about you, R'wign, and I have noticed how much you've changed. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't regret that...I miss you, R'wign. I miss being able to say anything to you without worrying about it being taken wrong. You're the only friend I have left...no I didn't lose any in the Siege...but only because there were none left to lose."
She shifted slightly, from foot to foot. "It's not so strange to me, you know. People not talking about things, especially men. I spent...a good twelve turns or so of my life almost exclusively with Benden dragonriders. Most of them didn't know how to express themselves, either. It wasn't so much that they couldn't talk about things. They simply wouldn't. K'von's like that still. S'rei was like that when I still talked to him. Uu'n. E'rro. Others. I know you're not them, R'wign, but it's the honest truth that I just defaulted to how I deal with everyone else who doesn't talk about things. I don't think bottling in general is healthy, but I'm not going to lecture anyone on something I'm so guilty of myself. I can be a hypocrite but I don't try to be.
"I guess what I'm trying to say, R'wign, is thank you for telling me. I'm not ignoring you and I never have, though. Do you understand that? I just...never knew how to deal with you. Probably still don't. This is not something I'm used to. Please...just be patient with me, okay? I know you already have, I know, but now that I know...I don't want to lose you, R'wign, and I don't think we have to be like this. Constantly upsetting each other. Or...resolving to have nothing to do with each other."
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Post by glamourie on May 14, 2010 6:32:38 GMT -5
Why was she bothering? She’d just gotten done explaining basically what a terrible person he was. He should have felt bad… and he supposed part of him did. Part. Most of him was exasperated, though. It was a kind of anger that was hard to put into words. He wanted quite badly to shake her shoulders and ask her if she ever thought before speaking because even her explanation didn’t exactly help situations much. It just made him all the more frustrated. He wanted to just give up and wander off, and he didn’t do so – not out of any kind of feelings for Kalierre, but because he knew he needed to get over the refusal to voice problems. He knew he did. Not for her sake. For his own. It was just… hard.
“For the record, I have no self-image issues. I did for awhile – tends to happen when you get an eye yanked out – and it took me a long time to be able to look in the mirror and not feel like a pathetic coward. But I don’t now, and even if I did, it’s not like I really care what you think of my appearance.” Maybe he should’ve attached a no offense to it – but he didn’t think it was necessary. There was only one person whose opinion he cared about, and M’ta seemed happy pretty much regardless of what he did. “I don’t recall ever seriously bringing any of those up to you – joking, yes, but seriously, no. Because you’re not someone I would talk to about that, and the days when you could really hurt my feelings in regards to my appearance are long gone. So I don’t know where you got the self-image issues thing. I like being noticed. I’m human. But I don’t require validation – not even from M’ta, why in Faranth’s name would I from you?”
She could take that as sniping if she wanted. He wasn’t sure if he cared how she interpreted the words, but it was meant as an explanation. Not one she deserved, in his opinion, since she clearly just sat around forming assumptions about him. True, he did it to her, too, but he was cocky enough to assume that he was right. Then again, R’wign always thought he was right.
“As far as egos, I’ve got news for you – the days when you can upset me by disagreeing with me here? Yeah, they ended a long time ago. You might have more experience, but I know very well that I have more technical knowledge, and I’m just fine with people. I’m an exceptional healer and I’ve proved myself – to myself, if no one else, and I’m really the only one who matters there. I defer to you for Dragonhealing because that’s your area of specialty, but you don’t have to ‘cater’ to my ego. I don’t expect – or want – that. If I think you’re wrong I’ll just ignore you and do my own thing anyway.” He glanced at her for a moment before turning to stare at the other end of the office. “And you’re not the only one who caters. I don’t bring Riaren to the infirmary when you’re here for a reason, and I try to avoid bringing Teri when you’re here too. I keep Empress out, and I don’t let my firelizards anywhere near Lust because he has a positively massive ego that Ellie won’t tolerate. You are not the only one who has to make accommodations for others.”
One hand came up and he scratched the side of his neck before exhaling sharply. “E’rro’s… damaged. Weird. He’s even more messed up than me in his own way. It’s not normal to be as afraid of touching people as he is. He can pretend it’s dislike, but I’ve seen the way he acts when his dragon chases. It’s fear. And what I saw of Uu’n, I didn’t like – but K’lir is my friend, and anyone messing with his feelings makes me angry.” He shook his head. “I can’t comment on S’rei, but I’m not like people like Ka’rys, or E’rro. Though, I can say that their inability to act like human beings is probably why those two get along so smashingly.” He rolled his eye and then glanced at her. “Habits are hard to break, Kalierre. Extremely hard. I spent three turns learning to shut up, because arguing got me told I was completely wrong, always, no matter what, and got harps or worse thrown at my head. I’m trying but my first instinct is to flinch away, and it doesn’t come naturally to me to begin with. Even as a child I couldn’t explain things right, and it made me grouchy to try. It’s not personal.”
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