Xanthee, Malosim


Xanthee decides to share the cake given to her by her newfound half-sister with her boyfriend Malosim.

Some making out and general lovey-doveyness with a Fade to Black ending.
Follows Sisters, yo!


It is sunset of the tenth day of the eleventh month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.


Malosim's Room; Crafter Quarters, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 02 Jan 2018 05:00



"Two parts that fit together perfectly.”
“Just like us.”

Malosim's Room

Simple in the way that can only belong to a new arrival (or a minimalist), Malosim's room has only the bare necessities for the moment. A span of hooks on a welded iron bar are set into the wall to the left of the sturdy skybroom door, a heavy wherhide jacket and a thick work belt being its usual occupants. Beyond this is a small table and two chairs, then dividing wall sheltering a washbasin and a privy. To the right is a full-sized bed, almost always neatly made with simple linens in cream and blue. There is also a desk taking up the corner between the bed and the entryway, perpetually strewn with jewel-working tools and scraps of Mal's latest project, official or personal. Though small, the space is warmly lit by glows, the lightly ruddy hue of the walls lending the room a subtly cheery feeling.

In the wake of a trademark autumn sandstorm, there is only the gentlest breath of a breeze remaining at Igen Weyr, sunset’s light turned ruddy with the dust still hanging in the air. For all it’s an annoyance to sit waiting such dusters out, Malosim likes it when they finish off this way, peaceful and scenic despite everything being coated in dust. He has his door open to the mild evening, letting the amber light stream in as he sits finishing a project he’d been working on to pass the time until the storm ended.

A pair of long blue shorts and a snug grey tunic with short sleeves make up his garb for the day, no boots present as evidenced by the bare foot that works the pedal of a small, fine grindstone in steady rhythm. There’s a dusty white bandana covering his mouth and a pair of safety glasses over his eyes as he bends close to the spinning stone, necessary to shield him from the little puffs of dust that rise each time he delicately touches a half-rough gemstone to its surface. He’s focused, certainly, but quite relaxed.

Having just finished a very enlightening shift at the Tea Room, Xanthee, dressed in a long tunic dress of bright forest green, golden embroidery at the slight V neckline as well as the cuffs of the sleeves. A matching gold cord cinches in the waist, tied into a bow with the excess left hanging. She is also carrying a box in her hands, being careful not to jostle the contents. A small hum slips from her lips as she meanders, not in the direction of her own room in the resident terrace but up the hill instead in the direction of the Crafter’s Complex. Does she ever have some news that she wants to share with her boyfriend.

When she walks up to his door, she finds it open, and peeks in, a greeting on her lips but then when she sees him at work she pauses and takes a moment to just watch him having never seen this particular sight before. She enjoys the look of concentration on his face, the way his strong arms look in the short-sleeved tunic. With an audible sigh of affection, the raven-haired girl says playfully, “It looks like you’re busy, I could come back later.” although she really doesn’t want to go, she would gladly watch him work for candlemarks.

Malosim knows there’s someone in his doorway pretty quickly; there’s a long shadow to be cast with Rukbat’s current angle. He can tell it’s Xanthee from both the way she moves and the fact that the shadow clearly reveals a dress, a smile curving his lips unseen beneath the cover of his bandana. “Nope!’ he answers over the whir of rolling rock. “Just give me one minute and I’ll be done. Come on in!” The set of his brows might reflect his grin as glass-shielded brown eyes flick ever so briefly to her and back. “I always liked that one. Makes your eyes pop,” he says of her outfit…which he’s seen once, maybe twice, but it was enough to make an impression either way.

He touches the tiny stone in his fingers to the wheel three times more, brings it close to inspect it, and then gives a nod, taking his foot off the pedal to let the grindstone gradually spin to a halt. His newly-cut gem, securely held in the grip of a pair of locking needle-nose pliers, is carefully set aside before he reaches up to pull off his safety glasses and tug the bandana away. He stands and stretches, groaning as his back gives an audible pop. “Agh, I’ve been sitting there too long,” he complains, then grins as he crosses to his girlfriend and lets his uplifted arms drop to drape upon her shoulders. Careful of the box she’s carrying, he leans to steal a kiss, then lets her go so that it can be set down. “What’ve you got there?” he asks with a subtle quirk of one dark brow.

“This old thing?” Xanthee says at the compliment about her dress, a small smile playing on her lips, it’s one of her simpler and more conservative which is required for her work at the tea room. But still she preens a little bit at his comment about her eyes. And that is exactly why over half of her wardrobe contains similarly colored garments. “And take your time. I don’t mind waiting.” And she really doesn’t.

Xanthee will be endlessly patient if the reward is spending an evening with Malosim. So she watches him finish his work, marvelling at seeing this side of him. So meticulous and exacting, her heart swells with her love for him, he’s rendered almost more attractive if that was at all possible. Then he finishes and comes over to join her and she eagerly accepts his embrace and kiss with a smile. Ah yes. The box. The smile on her lips curves up mischievously at the corners. “This is a cake. Baked for me by my half-sister.” The statement isn’t elaborated before Xanthee searches for a surface to put it down, but frowns as the room’s only table has his tools on it. “Where can I put this?” she asks casually as if she hadn’t just dropped some epic bomb on him with that half-sister comment.

First, Mal hears “cake” and his brows hike. Then the rest of it processes and they fall again, his eyes widening at Xanthee. “Your…half-sister?” Yet even as he gets stuck on that point, he’s turning and shoving a few unnecessarily-strewn thing back from the nearest corner of the table to make room enough for her to set her box down. He really needs to look into another table. And make himself not leave tools on it. There’s also the desk, but that clearly doesn’t cross his mind for the moment. “You found a half-sister?” Remembering what happened the last time she discovered a family member, a slight crease of concern forms between his brows. “Everything’s okay? I mean, you’ve got a cake; it must’ve gone better than the last big surprise you got,” he notes, handsome features relaxing as his humor kicks back in in light of what he’s observing.

With a little laugh as she places the box on the corner Mal cleared for it, Xanthee carefully opens it to reveal a cake covered with whipped cream and strawberries. “Yes, well, she found me actually. At work of all places.” Leaving the cake where it is for now, she slinks back over to Malosim and slips her arms around his waist, pulling him close, her mouth searching out his for more than just a quick kiss. When the kiss ends, Xan looks up at him with a warm smile and says with a smirk. “Well I guess Dad,” Oh that’s weird, being the first time she actually said it, and she can’t quite keep a note of sarcasm out of her voice when she says the word, “sought her out to help smooth things over with me. She’s living in Southern now, but she’s from Telgar originally, I think that’s what she said anyway. She’s a baker apprentice, hence the cake.” Then with a small smile she adds, “And not only that, apparently I have 6 half-sisters, two of who are older than me including Elonoora, that’s her name. She seems really nice actually.”

It really is one of Mal’s favorite things, getting to kiss Xanthee and take all the time he wants about it. It’s enough to make him stop rolling over what she’s just told him in his head for a few minutes, and when he starts to again, it’s a surprisingly calmer process. “And when is he going to try smoothing things over with you himself?” he wants to know, the sarcasm in his tone mirroring hers. “Still, it’s good that it brought you in touch with more family. And a nice one, too. Who’s…really good at making things look delicious,” he notes with a pointed glance down at the open cake box.

‘’You gonna try to meet them all?” he asks as he looks back down at her, his arms folding more snugly around her as he speaks. “The rest of your sisters?”

“Well I’ve already decided to seek him out sometime soon.” Xanthee says, her eyes a little downcast as she has something on her mind, “Remember I told you that that his dragon looked sad when I didn’t believe him? Well no matter what is said between Ha’ze and I, I seemed to have hurt Kaisylaith’s feelings and I can’t let that stand.” Xan sighs regretfully. “I feel horrible. Did I ever tell you that my mom never fostered me even though it’s pretty much expected by riders who have kid?” She continues because she’s almost sure she’s never told him this. “It was just me and her and Iyrith living in her weyr over by the lake. I don’t quite remember which one anymore, but I remember the lake was always nearby and I would go swimming with Iyrith. There aren’t a lot of them, the memories I mean, but in every one, Iyrith is just as present as mom ever was. I owe it to his memory to apologize to this bronze.”

Xanthee’s eyes glisten with old pain, but there is also a wistful smile on her face as she cherishes what little she has left of her mom and dragon. Then she remembers the last question he asked and she merely shrugs her shoulders, “I might, I mean if they want to meet me. But really, 6! And even Elonoora wasn’t sure if that was the right number. Dad needs to be given a lesson in brewing a certain tea I think.” Xan says with a giggle that breaks the tension of all the seriousness as she leans in for another deep kiss, tasting deeply and deliciously at all the recesses of his mouth. When she pulls back from the kiss, a little breathless, she quirks a brow at him and asks, just a little teasingly, “You’re keeping up on your weekly doses right? I don’t wanna be giving this guy grand-kids anytime soon.”

Malosim listens carefully, doing his best to understand as Xanthee goes into the effect her last interaction with Ha’ze had on his dragon. He’s surprised at just how important it is to her, and finds himself reevaluating his own thoughts about the beasts and how Weyrfolk must see them. Their perspective must be rather unique, all things considered; his experiences with them as a Crafter simply can’t compare. Even as a Weyrbrat, it would apply to Xanthee.

He shakes his head to her question, affirming what she’s sure of as she goes into memories about her mother and her dragon. When he sees that flicker of pain glinting in her eyes, he lifts a hand to her cheek, letting it rest there gently as she answers his question. She ends up voicing one of the very thoughts that cross his mind, bringing forth a soft chuckle before he finds himself drowning in another dizzying kiss, one that has him sliding his hand to the back of her head and dropping his other arm around her hips to pull her tighter against him. Her next has him inexplicably coloring a bit; the answer is easy enough to give. “Of course,” he assures her…and then there’s an unmistakable cat-call that drifts in from outside. Peering past Xanthee, he spots a couple of his passing fellow journeymen paused to “watch” on the path outside his door, which still stands open. Scoffing, he gives her an apologetic smirk and releases her to cross and close the door with an announcement of, “Okay guys, show’s over!”

Latching the door firmly now, he turns back to her. “Sorry about that,” he mutters as he comes back to her. “So. You of a mind to share?” he asks with a grin, eyes flicking to the cake and back again.

When then cat-calls are heard through the open door, Xanthee just laughs a bit. “I see what you mean now about living up here with all these guys.” She says referencing a conversation that happened that fun night at the Oasis Inn with Daen and Rev. As the door closes, Xan waggles her fingers at them and calls sweetly, “Good night boys.” When Malosim apologizes she just shakes it off. “It’s ok, let them be jealous because you have me in your room.” Is that a little ego there Xan? Yeah, she knows she’s cute. When the cake is mentioned, Xan smiles wickedly and then walks up to the open box. “Of course my love, why else would I bring it here? But unfortunately I completely forgot any kind of forks, so we may have to make do with our fingers.” she teases as she dips a finger into the whipped cream and then brings it to her lips before she gently, and slowly licks the whipped cream off while her emerald eyes bore into his.

“Yeah they are.” Mal is quite certain there’s some jealousy going on among some of the others; how could there not be? They’ve seen her, after all. He’s intrigued by that wicked little smile Xanthee gives him, his smile going lopsided as he draws close again. His attention goes from curious to riveted as she makes a very deliberate show of clearing the cream off her finger. “Hmmm… I’m sure that won’t be too hard,” he notes confidently, letting his eyes come back up to hers with a definite glittering to them. His mind is going all over the place with possibilities - even more so since having something edible involved is not something he’s ever actually tried before. “The best way to clean up anything involving cake is to lick it all up, of course.” And that is definitely not something he has any qualms with under any circumstances…but especially now.

As she cleans the finger sufficiently, Xanthee reaches into the box again, but this time she pulls out a juicy looking strawberry. Putting it to her lips, she sucks off the residual cream, before taking a bite of it. Then she sweeps closer to Mal, her hands going to the back of his neck and she pulling him close, for a kiss that tastes of strawberries, as she pushes her body up against his solid chest, as she lingers there in that sweet kiss. When finally she leans back, fingers intertwined behind his neck, she looks up at him with an adoring smile. “So what were you working on when I came in?” She asks, changing pace as a way to prolong the tease for her boyfriend, but also because she is genuinely interested.

Really, food should not be allowed to become so sexually charged. But in combination with bedroom eyes and thoughts that would be taking a lascivious bent anyway, it apparently can’t be helped. Malosim is rooted to the spot as he watches Xanthee work her magic with that strawberry, a sensual jolt sizzling all through his frame when she pulls him in and presses fully to him. One arm is around her waist, holding her fast, while his other hand travels her arm, up to where it rests on his neck and then back again. He makes a searching return of her kiss, enticed by the flavor she’s let linger there and growing more and more determined to seek out as much of it as he can before she breaks away to smile at him.

Rational thought is a bit frayed by the time they make it to that point, and he laughs a bit when her question registers. “Oh, you want me to think now?” he teases, and loosens his hold on her so that he can turn and picked up the vised pliers he’d been working from earlier. “I needed something to pass the time during the storm, so I decided to finally break into the samples I’d pulled from my last trip to the caves.” The one where he’d been confronted on the way out. “There are some pretty incredible pockets of precious stones in there, and it was my job to provide examples. They never look like much when you find ‘em, but work on them a little bit…”

He holds the tiny stone in the pliers’ grip up to the light that streams in from the square window above his door. About an inch long, it sits in the hold of what looks like rough stone. But where Mal had been grinding and polishing, a crystal the color of pale sunlight glints, rounded and delicately faceted by his touches of the face to the grindstone. “This is topaz,” he explains, and passes the tool and gem to Xanthee so that she can take a closer look. “There’s more down there - amethyst, jasper, citrine, others. There’s a cave that looks like it could be full of geodes, and another where the walls are coated with fluorite crystals. It’s pretty amazing.” He gives a rueful smirk. “I was hoping I’d get to show you sometime.” Now just getting to go back down there for any reason seems highly questionable.

“Thinking is good. We can’t always give way to our baser needs love, we must keep our heads now and then.” Xanthee says with a mischievous smile playing over her lips as she returns his tease. When Mal retrieves the pliers and then holds them up into the fading light, she leans in close to him, hand slipping around his waist as she examines the pretty golden gem, her eyes growing wide at the delicate work he has made of it a soft, ‘Wow…” escaping her lips. When he passes the tool over to her, she takes it thankfully, wanting to get a better look. Holding it closer to her, she takes a long moment to examine it pulling her hand back from around his waist as she holds the tool in both hands to steady it in the light.

“Mal!” Xanthee says, her emerald eyes flicking back up at him, “This is beautiful. You are incredibly talented my love.” she says with another adoring gaze for her boyfriend as she hands the tool back to him and makes her way over to sit on the bed, kicking her feet out in front of her slipping out of her sandals with a sigh. It had been a long shift on her feet. When he speaks so eagerly about his work as a miner and the things he’s uncovered, a warmth of affection for Mal floods over her as she listens to the amazing places he’s discovered. When he mentions his wish for her to see it, she smiles widely and dips her head a little bit. “It sounds spectacular.” Xanthee relaxes into the bed, leaning back on her hands as she continues to watch him, marvelling at every little thing about him.

Malosim, who has generally borne Xanthee’s compliments with a grin and gratitude and a bit more prominent of a display of whatever she’s been complimenting, reaches up to rub his neck as he takes the topaz back and dips his own head a bit, looking almost bashful. “It’s…like it is with you mixing teas, Xan. A lot of practice. Plus a little bit of a knack,” he says as he sets the tool aside and turns back to her. “Buuuuut what I really mean to say is thank you.” Perhaps it’s not so common a thing to hear his talents praised from a source outside his Craft? There’s something about the way he handles it that seems somewhat unpracticed.

He comes to sit behind her, a leg tucked up and the other dangling as he leans close and sweeps her hair back fully over her shoulders. Then his hands come to her neck and gently conform, his thumbs starting to work in tiny circles at the back. “Not a whole lot for you to do except stay on your feet down there during a duster, right?” he muses over what he assumes she’d been doing at work during the sandstorm.

When Malosim actually looks bashful, Xanthee feels her heart melt as she watching him try to downplay his talents. But Xan won’t let that foolishness fly. “Are you kidding me? I make tea, you take rough stones from the ground and then turn them into something beautiful. That is way more than simple tea. Don’t sell yourself short hun.” She says rather forcefully, you tell him Xan! When he joins her on the bed, she gives him a warm smile as he sweeps her hair out of the way, trembling lightly at his touch. As his thumbs begin to massage the back of her neck she purrs with pleasure. “Oh, yeah, that’s nice.” she says in response as she relaxes her shoulders at his ministrations, her eyes fluttering closed as she makes happy little noises in the back of her throat.

Then Mal is asking her a question and she needs to think about it a little before answering. “Oh it’s the worst. The span of time that Elonoora visited me in was the only time I didn’t have a single customer, and even that was short. At least the storms aren’t as frequent in the autumn, thank Faranth for small favors.” she says with a sigh.

The way Mal sees it, he’s taking a practical view rather than selling himself short…but he opts not to pursue the point for now. His attentions are now for something far more enjoyable than picking apart little details of professions. He hums agreement with Xanthee’s last, working his way up the column of her neck before tilting his head down to touch his lips to the curve between her neck and shoulder. Feather-light kisses are placed deliberately for a long moment before he gives a little grunt with something remembered. “There’s something else I pulled up from the caves I hadn’t gotten around to yet,” he notes between attentions, and then he lifts his head to look at her in profile. “It’s better with two sets of hands. Wanna see?”

Xanthee is thoroughly enjoying the kisses that Malosim is trailing down her neck now, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels her pulse quicken. When he mentions something else that he’s discovered, Xan’s curiosity is peaked and she flicks her eyes to meet his as she nods affirmatively, “I’d love to, but what do you mean it's better with two sets of hands?” She asks as she shifts to get a better look at him.

Malosim grins at the question and stands, gathering up Xanthee’s hands as he goes in order to pull her to her feet after him. “I mean it usually takes two people to prove what it is. It needs breaking open…so one pair of hands to hold the chisel, and another to use the hammer.” He moves them back to the table and pulls forward a roughly round stone, unremarkable for the moment and looking for all the world like nothing more than an unwashed, fist-sized tuber. There is, however, a faint ring around the center like a dotted line, something scored there earlier and then forgotten.

He takes up a nearby hammer and passes it to her with a wink, then picks up a chisel and sets it perpendicular to the stone. One fist holds it firmly in place at the base while the other holds the tool steady nearer the top. That done, he looks to her encouragingly. “Now just give this end a good couple of whacks,” he instructs nodding at the open end of the chisel. “We’ll see if it’s more than what it seems.” His gut told him it is… but there’s really no way to know for sure until the thing is broken open.

Color Xanthee thoroughly intrigued as she willingly lets herself be led by Malosim to his work table. When he pulls over the fist sized rock, a thick raven eyebrow hikes up in question, an amused smile dancing on her lips as she takes the hammer offered her. When the chisel is put in place and Mal let's it be known what he wants her to do, she gives a little scoff and says, “Well you’re putting a lot of trust in me here not to accidentally hit your hand.” With a giggle rolling off her tongue to show that she is teasing, before she braces herself with one hand on the table top and bringing the hammer down in an experimental tap but it wasn't strong enough so she gets a firmer hold then delivers two more taps in quick succession with more strength behind them.

“Considering how many times I did it to myself getting good at it, I’m not worried,” Mal informs Xanthee with another tilted grin before turning his focus to keeping the chisel steady. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t crack on the first go so holds fast, watching carefully as she makes her next strike. It causes several tiny chips to go flying, and he tightens his grip. The second hit splits the, dull rough surface of the stone, and he grins broadly at Xanthee. “Thanks, love,” he says as he straightens, keeping hold of the stone and chisel with one hand and upending them. “Now let’s see what we’ve got.”

He strikes the end of the chisel on the table, and the stone shatters in half in his grasp. Setting the tool aside, he turns his hand over, letting the pieces fall open in his palm. Sure enough, it proved to be hollow, the inner surface glinting with a bounty of clustered, cube-shaped crystals that glitter like the brightest gold in the midst of a sparkling crust of milky white. “Oh wow,” he enthuses, turning them to the remaining light. “Fool’s gold! I think I’ve seen it in a geode only once or twice before. And the white bits are quartz. You usually find them together.”

When Malosim flips the chisel and stone over, Xanthee can’t help but hold her breath in anticipation to see what could possibly be hidden within, nibbling on her lower lip anxiously. When he strikes the chisel to the table and the stone shatters in half, she almost bounces impatiently until he lets the pieces fall open in his hand. Then a sharp intake of breath as Xan takes in the beauty that was hidden within. Her own emerald colored eyes grow wide as she takes in the golden cube-shaped crystals amidst the white quartz. Words fail her for a second and then she just breathes out, realizing she had been holding her breath this whole time, pulling with it a soft, “Wow.” Xan is a woman of few words. She reaches out gingerly as if she want to hold one of the pieces, eyes asking Mal for silent permission, “May I?”

Mal places half of the geode into Xanthee’s palm, pleased to find her so awed by what they’ve revealed. “Keep it,” he tells her quietly, turning so that they’re face to face, their respective halves of the sparkling stone between them. “And I’ll keep this one. Two parts that fit together perfectly.” An observation that has him holding her gaze significantly, the smile on his lips warmly affectionate.

Xanthee’s heart actually flutters in her chest when Malosim hands her a half and then when he puts them together and he tells her to keep it, she can’t keep her breath from catching in her throat. Beaming up at him, eyes sparkling in adoration, a smile that could light the night on her lips, before saying softly, in a breathy voice, “Just like us.”

Mal sets his half of the geode aside in order to slip his arm around Xanthee’s waist, nodding to her last with a matching grin on his lips. It’s only a moment, however, before he’s putting those lips to even better use against hers. However, his other hand is being sneakier, feeling its way over the edge of the nearby cake box until he can get some whipped cream onto a fingertip. The next time their lips part, he pulls back just a fraction more than usual…and quickly dabs that finger against the tip of her nose, grinning roguishly. “Gotcha,” he declares at a low rumble before quickly kissing away what he’d wrought. “Mm. That is really good.” And there’s still more on his finger to clean up, which is a definite win!

As Mal’s lips press against her own, Xanthee reaches out to place her own half of the geode next to his on the table, her arms then encircling his neck as she leans in languidly into his kiss, eyes fluttering closed, totally distracted so that when Mal pulls his little trick with the whipped cream, she can’t help but giggle as he grins at her roguishly then kissing it away. Her cheeks color slightly as she spies the remaining whipped cream on his finger tip and with an impish grin, captures the tip of his finger between her lips, suckling it suggestively and probably longer than necessary. When she releases it, Xan smiles appreciatively, “It really is! I’m going to have to figure out a nice way to thank my sister.”

Mal opens his mouth as though he might protest - he was going to clean that up, dangit! - but the way Xanthee goes about it has any such thing dying on his lips. His eyes have gone quite dark by the time she’s done, the simple sweetness of the moments before now mingled with some definite heat. “Yeah,” agrees to her last, turning a little to get a bit more whipped cream onto a finger. “But in the meantime…” He touches his fingertip gently to a few points on her lower lip, his head tilted as though he’s studying to make sure he gets the placement just right. “I can figure out a nice way to thank you for bringing it to share.” Which he starts off by chasing after another kiss, his tongue sweeping over her lip to clear away the cream he’d placed there.

The rest of the evening is spent proving just how well they fit together in many different ways. The cake, unfortunately, does not survive.

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