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+--- Thread: [G] [P] 742.02.19 | Late Night Chat (/showthread.php?tid=4858)
742.02.19 | Late Night Chat - Cazan - 22.Feb.21
It was late, and despite being so exhausted by the ride earlier when they landed, Cazan found herself having trouble falling asleep. The fire flickered and crackled gently outside, having been carefully tended to make sure it wouldn't go out of control but still slowly burn to provide a bit of added warmth to the campsite. It cast odd shadows against the side of the tent in a warm glow and Cazan idly watched them as she lay snuggled up next to T'ryn.
With a soft sleepy grumble her mate stirred just enough to roll over, snuggling up to their other companion for the night, N'mor. Cazan couldn't help but smile at how adorable he looked. She was pretty sure that he'd named the other bronzerider as one of his few times sleeping with another man before, and that made her smile broaden a bit. And then she saw that N'mor was awake and looking right back at her and she covered her face to muffle an embarrassed giggle.
She was silent for another moment as she waited to see if T'ryn would wake up, but when he didn't she just snuggled up behind him again, propping her head up on an arm as she studied N'mor. "Sorry, he's just so adorable," she said softly. So far it seemed that her mate was well and truly out as he didn't seem to react and his breathing was still slow and even. It seemed a fine opportunity to get to know his friend a bit better, and to thank him for coming along on the trip. "Thank you for coming. You and T'ryn go quite far back yes? I hear you two were close."
RE: 742.02.19 | Late Night Chat - N'mor - 28.Feb.21
N’mor snorted softly, waking up in confusion when he felt someone cuddling up against him, knowing even in his sleep that he wasn’t home, and wasn’t with Z’rin, so who was pressed up against him? Confusion furrowed his eyebrows, wondering for a moment if Rhezalth had entered a flight, but no, as he blinked, he realised they were at their first campsite following the golden Malvayth. That’s why Z’rin wasn’t with him, since his blue wouldn’t be able to keep up with the gold and her escort of oversized bronze lumps.
Gaze shifting from the top of the tent to look at who was cuddled up against him, N’mor’s frown shifted to a furrowed look of amusement as he recognised T’ryn’s head and lifted his arm to pat him lightly on the head with another soft snort. “Idiot,” he mumbled, watching T’ryn’s face before glancing up and blinking at Cazan. His expression of amusement faded when Cazan giggled behind her hands, frowning again and feeling as if she were laughing at him and his actions.
When Cazan spoke, N’mor startled slightly, having been hazily lingering on the edge of going back to sleep, even though Cazan was still staring at him. He blinked, and adjusted himself so he was lying on his right side, facing his companions, rubbing his left hand over his face. “He’s certainly something,” N’mor drawled, glancing at the sleeping T’ryn, and then back to Cazan at her question. “Yeah.” He spoke lowly, voice somewhere between a mumble and a soft growl. “Since we were little.” N’mor paused thoughtfully. “He helped Dad look after Rhe while I was medicated after the landslide. That’s when I lost my arm,” he added, remembering that Cazan probably didn’t know that much about that portion of their lives. It really wasn’t something any of the Katilan’s enjoyed talking about; too much trauma.
RE: 742.02.19 | Late Night Chat - Cazan - 03.Mar.21
There was just something so very wholesome and cute about how T'ryn was snuggled up against the other man and a gentle smile kept finding itself on Cazan's lips as she watched him. It briefly faded though as N'mor brought up the landslide. She had heard a little bit about it, knew that it left behind orphans, took a lot of people and friends, but not much in the way of details or personal stories. "I'm glad he was there to help."
She thought back to the party where she'd initially met N'mor and had gotten so terribly, terribly drunk while trying to match the man for drinks. Cazan suppressed another soft giggle. "Sorry again for trying to steal your clothes at that party... I know it was over a year ago, but clearly I could not keep up. If you ever think of something that would make living without your arm easier, like a modification to a bag, let me know. I think it would be an interesting little project."
Cazan seemed to remember working on a pair of pants for him at some point based off of some drunken promise at that party. Had she actually made them though? She couldn't remember. With a frown she asked, "Did I already make you a pair of pants? I think I did, but I honestly don't remember and it's possible that I just had the idea and then never finished. If I didn't you should come by after I have things set back up so that I can work again. T'ryn can help me get your measurements if you'd like."
RE: 742.02.19 | Late Night Chat - N'mor - 09.Apr.21
It took N’mor’s sleepy brain several long moments to catch up to the change in topic that Cazan brought about. A frown marred his features and he mouthed the words she’d spoken, trying to catch up and then a soft, “oh,” was released on a breath, and N’mor snorted in response. “I’m not surprised,” he said mildly, almost drawling the words. Most of his friends and Z’rin couldn’t keep up with his drinking when he decided to go for it, so he was hardly surprised that the small goldrider hadn’t been able to keep up, either. He’d been somewhat impressed by her attempt to do so, however.
“Do you always migrate topics so quickly?” N’mor asked irritably when he realised she’d changed again, and barely a breath between commenting on his clothing, drinking, and now she was talking about his missing arm and life without it. N’mor was prickly at the best of times, but exhausted from riding his dragon all day was a special kind of irritable; preparing for Threadfall was going to really fuck up all the dragonriders. N’mor had done some research, and knew that Falls lasted for some six hours, which was almost as long as they had been flying that day. Dragonriders all around were going to be waddling for weeks when they began their wing practices in preparation.
Rubbing his hand over his face, N’mor didn’t bother to apologise, but he did modulate his tone when he answered her. “Most of my belongings have been modified already.” It had been eight years, after all. N’mor wasn’t really sure what further alterations could be made to make his life easier. Giving him back his arm would be nice, but after so many years without it, N’mor was fairly sure he’d find it remarkably awkward to relearn how to use it! Four more years and he’d have been without his arm as long as he’d ever had it.
“Ah, that’s not necessary.” N’mor said warily, eyeballing Cazan over the top of T’ryn’s head. The idea of being stuffed into a pair of skin tight pants like T’ryn had been wearing at that party did not appeal to N’mor at all. Neither did the idea of either Cazan or T’ryn getting close to his nether regions with measuring tapes and pins. No thank you. No thank you at all. “My aunt has already taken all my measurements and gets me clothing made.” And he’d failed at getting her to take no for an answer, too. For some reason he felt Cazan might be just as hard to persuade to leave him alone.