Who

Linny, Cha'el

What

Linny drops by to apologize for the impact meeting shenanigans have resulted in.

When

It is evening of the twenty-eighth day of the ninth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr, Sanctum Sanctorum

OOC Date

 

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Weyr.jpg

Sanctum Sanctorum

It is undeniable. A man does live in this cave. There is a musk that hangs in the air which tickles the nose of those who enter. The clues are subtle. No clutter hides in corners. In fact, the simpleness of the weyr is what makes it have that manly vibe. Table and chairs are cleared off of clutter, though the occasional out-of-place nick-nack speak of the sentimentality of the man who lives here. The large bed is neatly made, the soft touch of white linen sheets contrasting with the military precision which they are folded into. A gentle fire flickers on cold nights, with a kitchenette area nearby so that the weyrsecond can entertain. Perhaps it is the cabinet standing just slightly open, bottles of rum peaking out, or maybe the lack of lace anywhere which completes the manliness of this space.


With no warning, there is suddenly a rather large dragon upon Cha'el's ledge— one that is golden is color and whose rider is probably not welcome, hence the no warning. The only heads up he gets is a verbal "knock knock" as Linny stands in the entryway to the weyr proper, a somber expression on her face as she waits. "Can I come in? Please?" There might be some subliminal batted lashes, an attempt to get him to say yes instead of the alternative. But really, the weyrwoman is expecting the latter, since she keeps her riding gear on, goggles held in a hand, ready to put back on at a moment's notice.

The blocky brown that occupies the wide ledge, is this evening, nowhere in sight, chances good that he’s hived off somewhere with Nadeeth. Which might account for his rider’s foul mood. Then again, said mood has been on simmer for around a seven now, hidden behind a bland mask of professionalism during the day. And so, Cha’el isn’t afforded the heads up he might otherwise have gotten, startled by the sudden in-sweep of wind and dust the gold’s arrival kicks up. Bottle in hand, sprawled in a chair, he’s staring blankly at the cold hearth. COLD LIKE HIS BED AND HEART!! The sound of said visiting weyrwoman’s voice, right there like she owns the place, jerks his head up and blue eyes narrow. “What do you want?” The query a low growl that really, in essence, is more morose than it is heated.

That seems like the best 'come on in' she's going to get, and so Linny continues the stroll inside, now pulling off her riding jacket and sliding it over an arm as she approaches the brownrider. She comes close enough for conversation, but far enough back that she's given him personal space. "I heard what happened." With K'vvan in the meeting with W'rin and Trek. Obviously she was there for the Cantina incident. "I just wanted to come and say that I'm sorry. I feel like it's all my fault, and if I knew…I didn't know you were with him, and I didn't mean to insult you or your relationship with that image." That's where the goldrider pauses, waiting to see his reaction to all that before continuing.

His lower half still clad in his favored black flight leathers, knee-high boots are still in place, the only nod to being off-duty is the slightly crumpled off-white shirt unbuttoned with the two halves sagging to either side of a torso hard-packed with muscle. I heard what happened… Cha’el’s jaw tightens and the bottle is brought to his lips. A bob of Adam’s apple speaks to the slick of alcohol sliding down his gullet. Said bottle just so happening to be one of the two the goldrider had gifted him with. Looong silence in which his gaze returned to the dead hearth finally slides sideways the woman given a slow toe to head perusal as if to suggest he’s matching what she’d shown him with what stands before him now. Finally, he speaks, baritone etched dry as dust. “What difference would it have made if you had known, hmm? You’re not the arsehole that fucking bounced it out to the whole fucking weyr.” Yup, someone’s beating himself with the guilt stick.

Sikorth senses Jivayath peeks in, the barest smoke creeping in at the edge of the mindscape. Then, an image, starting with the body, Linny's, doing that Thing she does… only the head, the head belongs to W'rin this time. He licks his lips.

Sikorth thinks to you, « I bespoke Jivayath with: Off in his own little world of circled monoliths and fuzzballs being batted about, Sikorth rears back as an image similar and yet different suddenly creeps into his mindspace. In an instant, its burned to ash and swept behind an ancient protrusion of rock before his rider is able to catch a hint of it. « What is thisss? » The brown questions in a thick lick of mist. »

Oh, the bottle he's drinking out of is noted, and if it was a different situation, the goldrider would be smug as a bug in a rug, but now is not the time. Brows are drawn together as Linny looks down at him in his chair, lips twisted downwards in a half frown as she waits for him to answer, and when the answer finally does come, she dares to lift that half frown into a half grin. "Well, contrary to popular belief in the Weyr, I'm not a whore, and I don't meddle in people's relationships. Taken men are off limits, unless they have proven themselves to be adulterous, in which case…" If you dangle a worm in front of a fish, it'll bite. Linny clears her throat and goes back to looking serious. "Fact is, I would have never sent you that image if I had known you were with him. I thought you were single, perhaps interested…" she trails off, shrugging as eyes flick back to Cha'el.

Another slug of booze, gaze trained on Linny over the tipped bottle and a dark brow lifts up. The bottle falls away, dropping to the sprawled vee of the brownrider’s thighs and he utters a snort. “No one thinks you’re a whore, Linny. They think I’m an arsehole with lack of mind control.” Roundabout quote of Mayte’s words to him. Lifting a hand he waves her over to the other armchair that also faces the neglected hearth. “It wasn’t public knowledge until he had that bust up with K’ane.” And then the WHOLE Weyr had found out about the pair’s oddly celibate relationship. There is at the corner of beard framed mouth the very tiniest hitch of lip as if perhaps something said by the goldrider has briefly tweaked a dull chord of amusement. “Darling,” he drawls fitting her with what is now very definitely a smirk, “if I was interested, you would know about it.”

Linny's petite body does move to that seat, putting her jacket and goggles off to the side before she focuses back on the Weyrsecond. First matter of business: the goldrider lifts her hands defensively, eyes widened. "So now I know you're not interested. Good to know. No more naked pictures from me." She matches his smirk for a moment, but then she attempts to smooth it back into a somber expression, even as hints of amusement remain. "Fact of the matter is, I shouldn't sent you the picture. It was…wildly inappropriate, whether I knew you had a boyfriend or not, and it certainly shouldn't have been done in the middle of a meeting. I just wanted to get you back for making me laugh. Sending a dirty picture was the best revenge I could think of." Because Linny's mind is usually in the gutter.

“The last picture you sent is kinda burned into my brain forever,” Cha’el drawls and openly levels a pointed look at her chest. “Nice tits by the way.” Is he trying to get her to slap him? Possibly. He has a very strange sense of self-flagellation it seems – get someone else to do it. Whatever brief moment of humor had been allowed display falls away and the brownrider frowns and looks away his next coming in low spoken confession. “Look, I know it’s all over the Weyr by now and everyone thinks it’s a funny as all get out that we’re not sleeping together. But it’s got fuck-all to do with anyone else and despite what K’vv might say, I’m not about to go looking for it somewhere else. I uh…I respect him too much to do so.” And then he remembers the enforced separation and curses heavily under his breath and takes another swig. “Not that any of that fucking matters now.” Pity party in progress!! The bottle is then offered silently to Linny.

Commenting on her breasts will certainly not cause her to slap him. Instead, it brings out a huge smile, dark brown eyes dancing with mischief, since, after all, flattery will get you everywhere. It's a lesson Cha'el should remember well. "Thanks." But since starting a conversation about how great her tits are is probably not a good idea, Linny lets the compliment die where it lands. However, she promptly sits up, blinking hard as her hands are raised up to stop him. "Whoawhoawhoa. You…you aren't sleeping together?" This had never reached her ears, evidently. As the bottle is offered to her, after that revelation, she certainly snatches the rum from him, first taking a quick, testing swig, but then she follows it up with a gulp. Or two. Maybe three. It's handed back to him as she wipes her mouth with the back of her free hand while she asks, "Why?"

Perhaps it was a test and she’s passed it, or he’s just male and makes inappropriate comments OR, and this is more likely, he’s had enough to drink that filters are beginning to crumble. Cha’el startles at those raised hands and glances about. What-what-what!? Oh!! “Fuck.” Comes the grumble from the brownrider when he clues Linny in on something extremely personal that he’d just assumed she knew. “Uh…” He really wants his bottle back now. Prize ass in the room! “It’s a…personal.” He decides to go with looking anywhere but at Linny. “I mean, I want to! And we have. Once.” Just in case she now thinks he can’t get it up. “Its just…” Phew. Is it getting hot in here?

"Hey," and those defensive hands are kept up for moment longer before they are lowered, shoulders shrugging. "If that's what you want, then who cares? I mean, I could never be in a relationship without sex, but that's just me. Shells, I have sex more than I have relationships." What was that Linny was saying about not being a whore? "But if you want a relationship without sex, who am I to judge?" Even if the goldrider is smirking over at him, eyes locked on him. "It does make sense now why you flipped out when I sent you that picture. Or…wait." Now she looks confused, eyebrows bunched together as she tries to put pieces together but none fit. "You seemed to enjoy the picture, but yet you're with a man, so…." So, Cha'el, please help.

“Its not what I want! If I had my way I’d be all over him six ways to next seven.” Cha’el blurts and then freezing blinks. In the next instant his face disappears behind the hand that palms to it, a groan escaping for his apparent lack of tongue control. Bottle to lips and another deep drink is taken because that’s just what he needs now – more booze! “Aye, that picture didn’t help.” He goes on to grumble fitting Linny with a scowl. Which oddly enough melts at the very personal question she puts to him. He must be drunk because a laugh, a rich melody of baritone lifts up from the brownrider. Not only that, he actually goes on to lend the goldrider reply and that with amusement dancing in blue eyes. “So because I’m seeing another man you assume what? That I’m gay?” This must really tickle his funny bone for he’s not lent thought to correcting his relationship with the greenrider to now being a thing of the past given their circumstances.

"Well, isn't that the correct assumption to have?" Linny retorts, narrowing her eyes in on him, more than anything trying to figure out his sudden mood swings. Booze, sure, can be factored in. A hand reaches over to place on his forearm, rubbing up and down very gently as she focuses on him. "So, what you're telling me is….you're a regular, straight man who just so happens to be in a sex-free relationship with a man when you'd like to be in a sex-filled relationship with K'vvan." Eyebrows arch as if to point out the flaws in that, fingers still lightly dancing on his arm. "Or am I missing something?" Because it's a hard picture to put together in her head.

“You know what they say about assumptions.” Cha’el counters fitting the goldrider with another of those faintly amused looks, his gaze dropping to where her hand drifts along his forearm and then flicking up again. Amusement is gone from eyes of ocean-blue, shadowed by something else prowling in the background. As yet, unnamed. “What I’m telling you is that I don’t define myself by a label.” His voice drops a notch and his chin lowers. “Gender is of no importance, only the person you connect with.” There’s a pause in which the bottle balanced on his thigh now lists lazily from side to side with the restless tip of hand curled about it. “I love him.” Quiet statement of fact. “And I respect that there are things from his past that haunt him. Sex…isn’t everything in a relationship.” And just look how convincing he sounds. Almost like he really believes this to be so.

Linny is silent after that final statement from him, perhaps in stunned disbelief or maybe trying to figure out just how much he believes his words. Her other hand joins the one on his arm, but they don't move once on his skin— they simply rest. "If you're happy, that's all that matters. Sex or no sex." Those hands lift for a moment in a shrugging sort of motion before resting upon him once more, dark amusement taking over her face as she levels a look on him. "But I take back my apology. If you're not getting any, I should've sent you a far worse picture than that one." She's not taunting his misfortune, really, even if it certainly sounds that way. Perhaps just…showing him what he's missing? It's like if an alcoholic is going to drink, make sure it's a damn good drink and not a wine cooler.

When one hands becomes two on his forearm, the brownrider’s brawny frame tenses in much the same way the air stills before an approaching storm. “I was.” Cha’el answers tightly on whether or not he’s happy. “Until it all went to Between in a basket.” There’s a pause, the bottle lifted once again to his mouth but it falls away before he drinks and he tilts it in Linny’s direction, eyes lightly narrowed when she takes back her apology. “Do you understand what that image has cost me? I mean really understand.” Intent the look he settles on her as he awaits her reply.

Sucker punched. Linny thought she was being funny, but she obviously misread the situation, causing her hands to slink off of him to rest in her lap and her eyes drop down to look at them. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, guilt and remorse ringing loud and clear in her voice despite the low volume of it. "That…wasn't funny, and I'm sorry." A sigh, and the goldrider still can't look at up him. "I was hoping I could come here and make things right with you, but I just keep fucking things up." Eyes dare to peek up at him, expression smoothed. "I'm sorry." In case he hasn't heard her the other dozen times she's said it.

Silence continues to spool out long after Linny has retracted her hands and finished talking, her remorse a palpable thing on the air. “I’m sorry.” A heavy sigh follows Cha’el’s attempt to offer apology. “I’m not very good company right now.” There’s another pause in which his attention returns to the empty hearth the next so quietly spoken it’s as if internal musing has slipped onto the air without his notice. “It was just starting to go so well. He was finally starting to come out of his shell and now…” Slosh, goes the dwindling rum in the bottle, the neatly appointed weyr so quiet the swallow that follows, audible. Finally: “Its okay. It was a mistake. One we’re both at fault for. And Linny,” his gaze lifts back to her again, “K’vv’s not really that guy, you know? The drunk arsehole that calls goldrider’s whores and punches people. Well, he is but it’s just a cover. His way of…dealing with shit. He’s really a sweet guy under all of that. Gentle, shy….kind.” The last word sits barely above a murmur.

Lesson newly learned from her previous fumble, Linny's not about to be all cocky or even happy about anything he says: she keeps her face clear of expression, skin smooth and unreadable. "I'm sure he's great," she says first, even if she likely has a different opinion about the man that very nearly had a physical altercation with her. "I think he just misunderstood what happened. I think…I think he thought I was attempting to seduce you with that image." Or at least that's what she got from him screaming at her. Now, whether she was or wasn't, she doesn't say either way. "He wouldn't hear otherwise." But that being what it is, a hand once more goes to his arm, but this time to grab his attention. "If you two ever get back together, please let me know, and I'll stay away. I can maintain a purely professional relationship with you, if that would make him more comfortable." Since surely, the goldrider isn't high on K'vvan's good list, and he certainly wouldn't approve of her being there now.

Incredulous the look Cha’el jerks over to Linny. “K’vvan? Jealous?” There’s even a snort for that. “You’re talking about the man that told me he didn’t care if I fucked someone else. He’s hardly the jealous type.” Or so the greenrider has done a fairly good job of convincing him. There is the taint of a bitter undertone for no one really likes to believe that their partner cares that little that they’d shrug off dalliances on the side. Thudding his head against the high padded back of the armchair he’s sprawled in, the brownrider turns out a smile wry in origin. “I doubt that will ever happen.” The optimist now turned pessimist. “So long as he serves in Whirlwind, we’re done. But,” his gaze slips sideways to Linny, “I appreciate the offer nonetheless.”

That hand is once more retracted as Linny shrugs, obviously clueless about the man who K'vvan is. "I can only tell you that that's the impression I got while he was screaming at me." Falling silent, the goldrider chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before she focuses back on Cha'el. "Let me see what I can do about that, huh? I can't promise anything, because W'rin seems like a hard man to crack, but I'll see if I can't make something work so you and K'vvan can be together. Okay? All I can do is try. To fix what I fucked up in the first place." Since she still sees this whole debacle as mainly her fault. Unable to stop herself, Linny's lips pull back in a devilish smirk, "W'rin saw me naked, too. Perhaps that'll help sway him." Not her fault she's got a hot body.

Linny can’t be blamed. Cha’el is probably one of three that have ever seen the other side of the prickly greenrider. He is however drawn up short at her insistence and fits her with a long look. K’vvan…had been…jealous? The very idea is likely to be lent longer study. But not now. Now, there’s a woman doing her damndest to fix what she inadvertently broke. The curve of lips that now forms within the neat frame of beard is minute and while it carries doubt with it there’s a hint of gratitude and perhaps even the faint stirring of hope. “Tell W’rin your girl’s close to glowing and that’ll tickle him in all the right places.” The Weyrsecond offers sardonic reply the glint of amusement lurking in the shadows returned briefly. Sincere next: “Linny, don’t beat yourself up about it, aye? What’s done is done. No point in making yourself miserable about it.” Because he’s doing enough of that for the both of them. The arm that had been draped over that of the padded chair now shifts and his hand is held out in the gap between them for her to take if she so chooses. If she does there’ll be a quick squeeze and a warm smile. “You’re good people.” Whether K’vvan agrees or not.

"And if that doesn't work, maybe I can tickle him in all the right places." Linny's not above sleeping with anyone to get what she wants. But she doesn't linger on the comment about seducing the Weyrleader, because her eyes are on his hand that's held out, almost as if waiting to see if it's going to bite her, but finally, she slips a petite hand into his, smiling back at him. "I can be. When I'm not stealing away boyfriends." The goldrider has no problem making a joke of her reputation, because maybe, just maybe, she knows it's just a little true. Or at least truer on some days over others. There's a glance away from him, where her eyes land on his bed, and she opens her eyes to make a comment, but when she looks back at him, she opts against it, snapping her mouth shut with a grin. "You're okay, too." That grin turns into a bigger smile at her teasing compliment.

Both brows shoot upward and Linny is set with a look that is mildly warning. “You do know that he’s happily weyrmated to Sienna our assistant weyrlingmaster and the father of twins, aye?” Juuust in case that escaped her knowledge. Cha’el’s got your six, Sienna! The small hand slipped into his is given that squeeze and then released, his own moving to drape back over the chair’s arm. For a long time he’s quiet, rich blue eyes searching delicate features and then: “Have you never thought about settling down?” Her glance is tracked to its destination of his bed but aside from a light narrowing of gaze, there’s no reaction. Instead, the bottle he’d propped between his thighs is toyed with until eventually the cork is pressed back into place. Apparently he’s done with drinking for the evening.

"I realize that," Linny says in a soothing tone, a subtle way of letting him know that she has no plans on trying to actually seduce W'rin. Maybe. Let's hope she's not, anyway. Cha'el's sudden question gets a burst of laughter, wide eyes turned towards him, but then, watching him cork the rum, she sticks her hand out, fingers doing that 'gimme' motion. "If you're going to ask me questions like that, I'm going to need some of that. Don't worry, I'll have more sent to you." The goldrider will keep him stocked him rum for as long as he keeps drinking it. Like a monthly subscription.

Hey, Linny wouldn’t be the first woman to ever poach. And Cha’el has seen the way woman quietly swoon over the giant of a Weyrleader. Don’t worry W’rin, you’re not his type. Up goes a brow at the gimme wiggle of fingers. Linny. Bottle. Linny. Bottle. So his attention swings. Eventually a decision is reached and the bottle is handed over to her when promises to replace it. “Its not like I asked if you’re planning on assassinating Lord Tirven.” Although that wouldn’t be a huge loss in his estimation.

As soon as the bottle is in her possession, Linny immediately pulls that cork out and wastes no time in putting it to her lips, gulping it a few times before it's lowered. She looks down at the bottle for a few moment before she flicks her gaze to Cha'el. "I've tried it before. I've had three weyrmate. Three kids to prove it. It's…it's a nice thought, you know? Settling down. But I just can't seem to make it work. The monotony of having sex with the same person over and over again, it just makes me feel…" Linny struggles for the right word, and so another gulp of rum is necessary. "Smothered," is the word she finally decides to use, and in typical Linny fashion, she doesn't let the conversation stay serious for long. "I'm a good lay, so I like to spread the fun around. Give everyone a turn to experience the best sex ever." Wellll, someone thinks highly of herself.

Initially Cha’el’s expression is blank of judgment, if anything, he looks like he might even be sympathizing. Until she hits the bit about monogamy equaling monotonous sex that is. Up goes one of those expressive brows. “Then you either have terrible taste in weyrmates or…you’re doing it wrong.” OR, she needs to take a gander through that book he purloined from Southern’s library for inspiration to keep things fresh and interesting. Either way by the time she gets that last bit out, joking or not, he’s beginning to wonder if K’vvan might not be onto something about goldriders and…spreading it about. The smile he eventually fits her with is saddened along the edges, almost disappointed by something said. “At least you have the self-awareness to know it’s not for you.” Diplomatic as he smothers a yawn.

Linny's told her story to enough people to be able to tell when they are judging her or feeling sorry for her. Very rarely does anyone actually really sympathize with her or understand where she's coming from. And so, riding jacket and goggles are gathered as she stands, handing the bottle back to Cha'el as she easily and quickly shrugs on the jacket. "I won't bore you with my woes any longer." Whether his expression, words, or yawn have insulted her, Linny keeps a good diplomatic poker face on as she leans forward to place a kiss on the brownrider's cheek. She miiight just catch the corner of his lips, it's hard to say. "I'll let you know what W'rin says." The weyrwoman snaps off a salute completed by a little grin, and then she's strolling back on out to his ledge and her awaiting Kaelidyth.

Cha’el has worn that very same poker face enough times (Try ever day of the past seven) to know she’s playing ostrich with him. But he’ll not press on the matter right now. As she rises, he begins to do the same but is stalled by that unexpected press of lips that tilts toward the corner of his mouth. It’s enough to leave him staring mutely up at Linny. So much so that the salute isn’t returned. And neither does he get to his feet, merely tracking her outward path with a deeply contemplative expression affixed to weary features. “Thank you.” He’ll send after her though it’s debatable whether she hears the belated words. Once the goldpair have left, the Weyrsecond finally does move but weighted by the thick flow of rum through his veins he only makes it as far as bed before he passes out in sleep face down and still fully clothed until the next morning.

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