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2023/08/04 Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
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2022/07/29 Gold Malvayth and Bronze Xyxyth clutch is Hatching! Come and join the shenannigans 743.08.03 | NIGHT STALKERS HATCHING and bring the popcorn!
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05/JUL It’s Hatching time!! Come take part in the shenanigans here
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05/APRMore attacks occurred today. More information here
03/APRMultiple individuals found their death this day; more information here and here
28/MAR Tragedy has struck again! Across all the Weyrs, multiple people - primarily dragonriders - have fallen ill after eating muffins. There have been multiple deaths, and others are in criticle condition. More information here
24/MAR Weyrwoman Ameris and her son, Rislan, poisoned! More information here
18/MAR Benden’s Weyrleader M’ris and his children have been poisoned! Resulting in sickness and death. More information here
18/MAROn 18.03.742 Bronzerider A’dris of Vyaniorth was found dead in his personal bathing pool. He appears to have drowned after drinking an excess of alcohol. Afterwards it was realized that Machiya of Gold Cameth from Telgar Weyr had disappeared. Having never arrived at her destination, it is suspected she had an accident between.
11/MAR Gold Racoth of Donmaline went between taking Bronze Beruth of T’rel with her shortly after she had been caught, due to T’rel strangling Donmaline. He did not survive. more info
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Currently: Spring 03.745 al
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2024-February
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Welcome to the Month of Lovetm! This month's Monthly Event is all about Romance, whether it is asking someone out on a date, or getting sweaty between the sheets! Anything and everything counts, if it even looks sideways like it could be related to Valentine Day -- including lover's spats, or breaking up, Flights Wins (or Flight Losses!). Honestly, this month has a huge opportunity for interpertation, so go wild!



2023-December
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Ahh, the fresh snow, the crisp air, the naked trees... welcome to Winter! Or, just the Colder Months for those in the more Northern Weyrs, while Ista is just... not as hot. But it is time to enjoy the end of the Turn, so folks should get together, spend some time gossiping, and drinking Hot Chocolate (alcohol and marshmallows opional)... does Pern even have marshmallows????? (they do now!)



2023-November
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Feel like bitching? Wanna take part in a brawl? Or bet on someone? Take part in Brawls and Bitching this month! Boo-yeah!



2023-October
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Thistle flunked this month; You can still post until the end of November as a result <3
Experience, tell or hide from a Spooky Story!



2023-September
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The flu is running rampant, colds are clogging noses, and someone might have lost a limb?



2023-August
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Partake this month by going fishing... or anything that occurs while fishing, or dealing with fish!



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[G] [C] 733.10.24 | Got My Eye On You
8 PM | Warkhim

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Kira listened to the chatter of the other drudges as she worked on scrubbing a particularly tough pot. The evening meal was over and done with, and now all that was left was the cleanup. Kira didn't particularly like kitchen work. The area was always hotter than the rest because of the cooking fires, the work always seemed to be a bit messier than anywhere else, and scrubbing pots always left her feeling a mess. The pot-scrubbing she was doing at the moment had left her with wet sleeves (even though she'd rolled them up as high as she could) and large wet drips down her front. At least Kira wasn't alone with that - the other two who had been doing it with her had left, laughing about how they were able to forgo bathing tonight because of it. She'd given a small laugh in response, but was still feeling sweaty and filthy enough to warrant it even though she'd taken one the other day.

She gave a soft sigh, hoping that the day would be over soon. It had been a long one, with most of her duties keeping her away from the infirmary. Though the side benefit was keeping her away from Falon, which she couldn't quite bring herself to be particularly disappointed about that. Her father had truly started bearing down on her to accept, and that just made her dig in her heels more. Falon was working on her in his own way, but even so...

"C-can't. Won't work. W-would have to-" She broke off her own thoughts, remembering that she was in a public place. Thankfully most of the others had left the kitchens, having finished their own parts in cleaning up. The two that remained were lost in their own discussion. Kira gave a soft sigh, smiling in gratefulness, then turned back to her own work. The food burned on was particularly difficult to scrub off and she worked up a little sweat doing so. A bout of relief ran through her when the last of it came off, since she was able to rinse off the pot and, giving a glance to see that the other two weren't paying attention, splashed some clean water onto her own face to cool herself off, wiping it up quickly. It was a silly thing to do, perhaps, but Kira needed it!

She cast her eyes about the room to see if anything else had been left undone as she grabbed a cloth to dry the pot with. Hrm. A few other things had gone untouched. She frowned at the spills left by the cookfire. A knife left on the counter was filthy. Kira sighed. It seemed like she was doing that a lot today, and for good reason! Those were small jobs, all things considered, but it would have been nice if she were able to leave sooner. She began to hum to herself as she moved around to put the pot away, exhaustion setting in. Maybe she'd forgo the bath tonight, as well...

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Long fingers firmly grasped around the neck of the wine bottle, Warkhim strode through the cellars with a smirk on his face. He dared anyone to question his right to the dry northern red, stolen though it may be, as he passed the bowels of the kitchen, long brown jacket trailing behind him. He didn't often steal from the Lord Holder's personal collection, but the ancient asshole would never notice it was missing and, even if he did, would never attribute the loss to his mild-mannered archivist. No, Derrigan could point fingers in every direction and Warkhim would never be the target, he was certain of that.

He heard a woman's voice- a girl's voice, really- as he passed the putrid kitchen, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead. The drudge, a short brunette with lovely set of hips, appeared to be carrying on a riveting conversation with herself, something Warkhim doubted possible given the general lack of education among the lowborn laborers of Telgar. The tall man sneered the moment he detected a stutter on her tongue- yet another defect in the otherwise passable broodmare. Turning to stride back to his rooms, he swiftly reevaluated his initial dismissal of the drudge. What did he care about a stutter? He didn't need her to talk, and they were already alone now that the other two had walked out, jabbering about aprons or something equally meaningless.

Brushing back his fluffy brown bangs, Warkhim stepped from the shadows, deftly avoiding a table of soapy dishes. Stopping short, he watched the young woman splash her face, water dripping down her front, and he grinned widely. It was like she wanted him to take her right then and there over the dirty dishes. Warkhim found that the younger they were, the easier they fell into bed.

He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, miss. I can't help but notice how warm this dreary kitchen is," he began. Warkhim jauntily waved the bottle of wine beside his head as he loomed over the small girl. Her youthful face and brown eyes pleased him. "I also can't help notice that I have this delicious wine, and nothing quenches a hard worker's thirst like a well-aged red. Care to partake? I'd be honored to pour you a glass." He lied gracefully through his teeth, earnestly hoping the drudge refused to drink. It would be such a tragedy to waste the expensive wine on her uncultured palette, though he doubted her tolerance was considerable enough to drain the bottle. "I'm Warkhim," he added with a smile. 

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Kira was startled by someone - a man - speaking up. Her eyes rose to meet his. He was far too tall and far too close and Kira was going to make sure that at least one of those things changed very soon. Her head tilted and she aimed a friendly smile at the man. Inwardly, though, she wondered what he was doing bothering her about anything at all. Certainly he didn't actually expect her to take him up on that offer, did he? Her eyes ran over him, from his formal clothing to the way he used his height to loom over her. And then she shook her head, her smile still fixed on her face. She didn't care to drink (at least, not with strangers that had questionable motives) and most definitely didn't socialize with men who waved bottles of wine in their hands while their hair fluffed out like a wherry's feathers. He looked ridiculous.

"Kira." Short, sweet, and to the point. It was the smallest bit of kindness she'd offer since he had offered her his name as well. The overdressed giant was in her way, so Kira contemplated how to get around him. That wasn't possible given his size, so instead Kira turned around and walked around the other side of the table. Where did some people get their nerve? Going around asking strange girls to wine. Just what kind of girl did he take her for? Especially since he was old enough to be her father! That was sad, but plying one as young as her with liquor...

Good wine. Kira stopped abruptly and turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. His appearance was a mix of things, his clothing pointing towards a minor Holder but his bearing more of a servant's. Her lips parted momentarily as she contemplated what she was going to say. A deep breath, and Kira spilled out her words. "Where d-did you get that-t w-wine?" It was a carefully considered question. Kira didn't like speaking unless she thought she had reason to, and right now she believed she had reason to. Her hand trailed along the edge of the table as she took a few more steps, inwardly debating on turning the corner so that she could confront him. Then again, if she did confront him what good would it do? The disparity in their sizes put out some of her bravado, and it deflated a little more when she realized that he probably outranked her.

And that meant that she was starting a fight she'd lose. Kira wasn't stupid. Biting her lip, Kira looked down at the ground, giving him her best appearance of submission and apology. Another consideration of her options, then a deep breath before she let out what she'd put together. "S-sorry. Didn't mean to ac-cuse y-you of anything. Hope you enjoy-y it." And she meant it. She hoped he enjoyed it so much he downed enough to choke on it. Maybe she would get lucky and be the one to find the body. Either way, her business with him was finished, doubly so since they were now completely alone in the kitchen and Kira felt incredibly uncomfortable. She didn't even like being with Falon alone. This man who had a stare that would peel a redfruit at a hundred paces was even worse. But he had to leave first - she still had a few things left to clean up before she could head home.

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Fantastic. She's quiet, Warkhim thought, hawkishly watching the girl decline his offer. He enjoyed the way her brown hair tossed in her face as she shook her head, and he was absently surprised to find himself thinking that she had an attractive smile. It was simply too tempting for him to ignore her unblemished face, miraculously  untouched by the inevitable downtrodden scowl befitting lowborns like herself. It would come with time, and Warkhim planned to be long finished with her by then.

Kira, Kira, Kira, he chanted internally. She scooted to the other side of the table, likely intimidated by the presence of a handsome older man. It wasn't every day a tall, dark Harper offered his wine and company to a kitchen drudge. And suddenly, Kira the kitchen wench made his life infinitely more interesting by questioning how he procured his wine. Oh ho ho, glorious little tongue-tied Kira. Warkhim wanted to laugh, delighted that the newest object of his fascination challenged his authority without prompting. The petite stuttering hero, brave and thoughtless, retracted her statement with an apology, but Warkhim faulted her little for backing down. In fact, he found it laudable that the woman mentioned his suspicious prize at all before realizing it was not her place to question him.

He backed away with a flourish to take a seat on a nearby stool, wine still cradled in the crook of his arm. "Not to worry, Kira. It's a breathtaking wine- one of the finest I've ever had," he began casually. It was also a lie that he'd never had better: as a younger man, Warkhim had stolen the most expensive white blend from the Harper Hall's cellar, unrepentant when the kitchen guards were whipped for their neglect. It wasn't his fault they hadn't caught him, and it certainly wasn't his fault that the moronic herdbeasts carrying staves believed a Junior Journeyman was inherently trustworthy.

"It's a gift from Lord Derrigan for playing at his granddaughter's nameday party. I'm a Harper," he added humbly, as if his impressive craft were a trivial afterthought. "I mostly work in the Archives. If you ever happen to swing by the library, I could give you a tour, Kira." Enjoying the taste of her name in his mouth, Warkhim lounged against the kitchen's wall, staking a claim to continue watching her clean. He pressed down his bangs pitifully, suddenly furious at their presence. Warkhim hated his hair, but his vanity would never tolerate shaving it off.

He changed the subject quickly, hoping she hadn't noticed his preening, "Do you always work in the kitchens?" Warkhim had not seen Kira puttering about Telgar that he could recall, and his memory was superb, but she didn't look like the regular porcine kitchen drudges. Perhaps she favored weaving or had dreams of becoming a Harper. Not that she could with that stutter, he thought distastefully. The Archivist immediately classified Kira as a girl who preferred dainty activities like sewing her husband's clothing, or something equally charming. He favored the mental image of her as a submissive woman, idly toying with the cork of the wine bottle.

I didn't think it was possible, but I'm creeping myself out writing Warkhim, lol. He's terriiiiible. I keep having to revise it so he's not (any more) scary and overbearing right off the bat.

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Kira noticed him taking a seat. Fantastic. Settling in like that meant he intended to stay. That was the last thing she wanted! He was irritating and... truthfully, Kira was a touch frightened by his presence. Any man that decided to hang onto a lone woman was probably up to no good, and Kira could see and hear that they were both alone at this point. However, Warkhim seemed content to chatter at her, letting drop things like where he worked and his Craft. Not that she cared a whit about either of those.

No, scratch that - she cared enough because that meant she could avoid him. She kept a gentle, inquisitive look on her face as he spoke, hoping to catch a few other tidbits like that. However, Kira was out of luck. All she got for her trouble was an offer of a tour should she ever come to the Archives. Giving him a noncommittal shrug and smile, Kira made a note to herself to never go to the Archives if she could help it. Not that it would be that much trouble, since drudges allowed there were few and far between and greatly trusted because of the delicacy of the work that had to be done. She was not one of the lucky few. However, it did irritate her that it also meant she'd have to avoid the library. While she couldn't care less about the Archives, Kira happened to enjoy reading, and was disappointed that she'd have to curtail her occasional excursions there.

She strode over to the hearth where the cooks had left foodstains from the evening meal. Ugh, that was particularly disgusting. Getting on her hands and knees, Kira scrubbed at them as she continued to listen to him talk. Well, ask a question, at least. It perked her up immediately, and Kira looked at Warkhim with a proud grin. "Inf-firmary!" her grin nearly faltered as she realized she'd let him onto where she normally worked. A quick decision was made on her next words. "Get to w-work bes-s-side my Betrothed, Falon. H-he's a Healer." That should put the tall man off of her trail! He wouldn't possibly go after someone who was betrothed. She hoped so, at least.

Either way, he still wasn't budging, and Kira noticed him fidgeting with the bottle of wine. Ah! She got off her knees and tossed the rag into a small pile in a corner, then rinsed off her hands. If he was eager for wine and company, then she would oblige. But company would only be company. Warkhim could drink while she worked, and Kira would listen. It seemed he wasn't going to go any other way. So with the biggest, brightest smile she could muster, Kira grasped a freshly-washed wine goblet and offered it to him. He would have the complete set of things he needed to enjoy his wine, and perhaps that would satisfy him and get him to leave, especially since he had made it clear that his intention was to enjoy it and she wasn't partaking. He would easily find a willing drinking partner somewhere else.

If he's this creepy edited, someday I'd love to read unedited! Because I'm sure it would be amazing in all the wrong ways ^.^

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Warkhim found himself nodding as he spoke, pleased by Kira's attentiveness to his words. She had obviously abandoned her curiosity about the expensive wine, satisfied with his simple lie. The lanky archivist found it was easier to speak to the quiet drudge than to the wherry-brained lordlings and ladies of the Estate, especially those curious about their blood lines. He was the primary keeper of the Telgarian family tree, only specializing in Derrigan of Telgar's lesser subjects as a secondary form of entertainment. Every once in a while, Warkhim found a delectable tidbit of knowledge- some bastards here, some incest there- hoarding his information in the heavy annals of history where no one would think to look.

When the rich fools came to stake a claim or settle an argument ("Yes, you're related to Lord Derrigan, but I'm more related to him.") he would rewrite the applicable section of the family tree, guaranteeing no other soul had a reason to nose about his original copy. The sweeping script, Warkhim's proud handwriting, outlined verbatim the family details on the off chance that some crotchety old fool could disprove his potential forgeries. It wouldn't do to be caught faking copies of the official records. He idly wondered if he could find Kira's parentage: perhaps she was loosely descended from a highborn line. He could probably dig far enough to find a solid relation, and what young woman wouldn't fall into the arms of a man who proved her aristocratic lineage?

He watched her scrub the filthy hearth with a scowl, hoping her regular work was less disgusting. She stuttered out that her cleaning often took her to the Infirmary, and he openly sneered. Little Kira was obviously not the submissive housewife he'd dreamed up earlier. Warkhim fervently hoped she wasn't one of the idiotic Hold bitches with ambitious notions of being a Master Crafter, especially when it came to Healing. Weaving and birthing babies was one thing, but the female brain was too small to contain a proper education required for being a Healer or Harper.

As soon as Kira mention her betrothed- a dumbfuck Healer named Falon- Warkhim flicked his tongue to the corner of his mouth, vexed to hear she was somewhat taken. The young girl was clearly uncomfortable being alone in a room with him, obviously intimidated by his wit, looks, and standing. He refused to completely abandon his pursuit, knowing that the average relationship's monogamy meant nothing if a more interesting prospect came along. The plethora of bastards in the Telgarian Blood Line proved that. Still, he replied, "That must be nice for you both." He bared his teeth in an uncomfortable approximation of friendliness.

As if reading his mind (Warkhim briefly wondered if she even could read), Kira gave him a bright smile and began tending to his needs. "Why, thank you," he murmured with a sly grin. He chose to willfully ignore her comment about Talon, or whatever her fiance's asinine name was, but reserve in his memory a mental note to perform a thorough background check on the Healer. It was no taxing process for Warkhim to bring a good man to his knees with a bit of well-placed slander. Deftly removing the cork with a sharp pop, the Harper deeply breathed in the rich aromas of the red wine. He offered Kira the bottle, saying, "Care to smell? It's a full-bodied red. Should remind you of a blackberry jam."

He murmured, "If I'd thought to procure some ovine meat, this would make a lovely pairing." Glancing upward with knowing grin, he told Kira, "My mother, Rilwarina, is one of Lord Derrigan's younger cousins. A good lady, mind you, not one with her head in the clouds or a wicked tongue, and she taught me all she knows about wine. It's something we can enjoy together as a family." Warkhim's brief fabricated monologue amused him immensely. He didn't give a shit about the old hag who birthed him, and never spoke to her unless she sought him in the Stacks out of a sense of maternal obligation, which was rare in itself, as she was blatantly frightened of her youngest son. Kira looked like the kind of girl to appreciate a man who loved his parents, as naive and meaningless as that whole notion was.

Warkhim poured himself a glass, swirling the contents around the transparent rim. "Here, now smell again." He tilted the glass to her, "You'll notice different notes as it breathes: a bit of spice and vanilla. You can watch it drip down the side- those are called "legs"- and the slower they fall, the sweeter the wine is. This red is on the dry side, so the legs fall quickly." He took a slow swallow, reveling in the delicious vintage. "Mmmm, oh yes. Feel free to try a sip."

Sorry for such a delay! Let my extra-long, super-sleazy-character post make up for it, lol.

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Warkhim wasn't doing anything particularly threatening, just sitting there talking to her. Her warning bells started calming down, and her muscles relaxed a bit. He'd done nothing except query her on her work, talk about his wine, talk about where he worked... it was all perfectly innocuous. She was starting to feel stupid about being on the alert in the first place. Kira certainly still believed that he had no right to that wine, whatever story he came up with, but she couldn't challenge a Master Harper. But in the grand scheme of things, a little wine thievery was small tubers in the crimes that he could be committing right now.

Her work was done, really, at this point. It wouldn't hurt to sit around and let the man talk about whatever he wanted. There was no threat there that Kira could discern. He was no longer using his height to loom, nor was he any more rude than any other man towards her. When Warkhim offered the bottle to sniff, she took it cautiously and carefully, not wanting to drop it. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. It was lovely! She offered it back, surprised at it, lisening to his words. At the very least, she would learn something about wine at this rate. Kira drank like the other drudges - at every Feast and Gather, and whatever it was usually had been watered down some.

It didn't surprise her in the least that this Harper knew more about wine than she did, nor that he'd have tasted and had access to better wines. He was intelligent enough, certainly, and privileged enough. Another wave of disappointment ran through her about the library. Perhaps she'd sneak in a few days later. Undoubtedly he'd have forgotten about her and would be far too busy regardless to bother with her.

Kira let him jabber on about his family. She didn't give a care who his mother was (though knowing her relation made Kira extra-sure that she never wanted to have to speak out against Warkhim), but was willing to stand there and let him talk out whatever he wanted to. He blabbered so! It was actually amusing her that he thought she cared, and her smile was bright with the thought. Unthinkingly, she took the glass of wine when offered, feeling safe and silly for having assumed that he had dishonorable intentions. The scent made her close her eyes at how lovely it was, better than the blackberry she had discerned when it was in the bottle. She opened them to watch him take a swallow.

And then the wine was offered to her. Kira hesitated a moment, then decided it wouldn't hurt. She barely wet her tongue with it, not feeling any need to drink it. But a surprised whoosh of air went past her lips at how fine a flavor it was. She no longer blamed Warkhim for nipping a bottle of this! Kira would have been tempted to do the same. Kira handed it back again, not wanting to have any more. If she got caught drinking it... "V-very f-f-fine." It was an admission she made without hesitation. "Surely ther-re is someone w-willing to share it with y-you at the Arch-chives." It was a small urging for him to leave and find a drinking partner, someone who would be better company than she really had any desire to be. Kira might not be afraid of him anymore, but even so she only had so much patience for the man.

As it was, she was feeling ready to retire, herself. A good number of strands of hair now framed her face, having escaped her braid. She reached back to undo it, letting her hair flow free down her back. Wrapping the tie around her wrist Kira grinned at Warkhim. "Know a f-few p-pretties who w-w-would enjoy the comp-pany of-f such a h-handsome Harper. Perhaps w-w-would enjoy one?" She meant it as a succor for his desire for company. It was true - she did know more than a few drudges who would have happily joined him drinking and in bed. If Warkhim wanted it, then she'd go to find one as soon as possible. And then, perhaps, she'd be allowed to return to her own room!
I LOVE IT! I love the sleaze! It's beautiful! Thank you!

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Warkhim licked his lips as she sipped from his glass, delighted to watch her mouth wrap around the rim. She looked positively radiant as she drank, eyes closed with pleasure, taking a small swallow of wine. Unlike the other drudges and less savory women Warkhim frequented, she didn't gulp down half a bottle in one swig, much to his approval. Abruptly, Kira returned his glass, assuming he could find a drinking companion at the Archives (as if he wanted one in the first place.) The girl obviously didn't know the old codgers working the Stacks, but they ranged from ancient to positively decrepit. It was a wonder they hadn't collapsed into piles of dust and crankiness yet. If nothing else could be said about them, it was rather convenient that they were all nearly deaf and blind, leaving Warkhim his independence at work.

As Kira untied her hair, brown locks flowing down her back, Warkhim raised an eyebrow lasciviously. Was this the same girl who claimed to be engaged only moments earlier? Was she offering herself or her friends? His smile widened, Or both?

A sudden wave of suspicion hit Warkhim. This Kira, while a stuttering, uneducated kitchen drudge, was clearly more intelligent than most of her peers, and certainly more attractive. She didn't strike him as the type to throw herself at a man, even one as tempting as Warkhim, and he began to question her motives. If she wanted to fuck, we'd have left by now. If she wanted to run, she'd have gone. His eyes momentarily narrowed. She wants a husband, and I'm obviously more irresistible than her Talon (or Halon?), the lowly healer-boy. The tall Archivist leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms knowingly. It was never difficult to reason out the agendas of the lowborn. They were inherently less skilled when it came to playing political power-climbing games. You can be my whore on the side, Kira, but I've no desire to wed you, he thought, amused.

"Ah, no, that's quite all right. You're excellent company, as long as your fiancee doesn't mind you spending time alone with me," said Warkhim as smoothly as he could manage. He fought the urge to snort derisively. "I'd hate to give him the wrong impression, you know. Some men are a bit old-fashioned when it comes to their women, and dislike when they have male friends." He looked down his large nose at her, curious to see how she'd handle his implications about her future husband.

Perhaps later in the sevenday he could make an excuse to find her lover and properly size the man up. If Kira remained the viable prospect Warkhim currently considered her, he would need to be able to contend with her betrothed. No well-to-do Telgarian would take a mistress with that much baggage, especially one as simple as a drudge. Still, he wasn't entirely clear on her intentions. It was possible the girl accidentally flirted, however unlikely, and he was mistaking her friendliness for interest. No, thought Warkhim, taking another sip of the savory vintage, She wants me. He would have to tread carefully around this one.

He fished around for more reactions, trying to gauge her attitude toward typical Telgarian sex scandals. "Why, only the other day, one of Lord Derrigan's nephews got himself into quite a tizzy with a young lady," he murmured offhandedly. "It was all very tasteless. She was already wedded, you see, and now the parentage of the child she carries is in question."

Overthinking!Warkhim might be my favorite, lol.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#9
Warkhim's reply to her offer irritated her a bit. If he thought her... stimulating... then he might come back. At the same time, she didn't have the heart to really tell him to go. Falon had told her she was always a bit of a soft heart, that it would have done her better if she had been able to be a Healer rather than a drudge, but now it was coming back to bite her in the worst way. Her lips quirked at the man's mention of him. "Oh, he is-s used to my w-work. H-hav-ve to be around p-patients-s-s all the t-time to do it." That should have been obvious. There always seemed to be someone laid up in the Infirmary that she would have to work around and by. Though the part about male friends bothered her a bit. He was no friend of hers, not by a long shot. He was simply someone that had come by where she was working.

Any implication further than that went right over her head.

And that meant that she was more than a little surprised when he brought up some scandals that had been running around the Hold. "It's-s none of m-my bus-siness what she got up-p to in b-bed. Does-sn't affect me." What did she care about a Holder that had gotten herself into trouble? Kira knew that with the high-born, they were too caught up in themselves and their own lusts and desires to think straight. Or, at least, she assumed that was the case. But her? She didn't bed-hop, but didn't think it was anyone's business whether she did or didn't.

Her father would disagree about whether someone's children were legitimate and whether they were married, as he was the one who was putting pressure on her to marry Falon, and Falon was beginning to want an answer. The thought made her stomach clench. No one's business whose bed she touched... or didn't! Her rebellion and anger about it made her swing in the opposite direction of what they both would want from her, a little submissive woman that would be faithful and bear children. No, that wasn't anything like what she wanted. Kira simply wanted to be left alone, to grow old and be a spinster. That wouldn't be allowed by any means. She'd heard that in weyrs things were more free about such things, and that made her envious. Oh, if she could be a Rider!

But that wasn't the case. Here and now she was pressured to be engaged and even more immediately was tired and wanted to go to sleep. She gave a soft sigh. "Any-ycase, mus-st go. Long day-y tomor-row-w." Whatever this man wanted from her, Kira didn't care anymore, nor whether she was being rude. "Might s-s-stop by the Ar-rchiv-ves sometime." Or not. Most definitely not. But she wasn't going to tell that to him. Instead she simply gave him a smile and started moving towards the dorrway, knowing that she was running late and that her father would question her about where she had been and what she had been doing. At least she could be honest - someone had stopped her to talk. That wasn't unusual, and he wouldn't be too upset.

Had to think VERY HARD about how she'd reply to this!

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#10
Warkhim continued sipping, peering over the edge of his glass at Kira. Hmm. Strange, he thought, slightly taken aback by her reaction. He'd opened the door for a colorful discussion about sex, lies, and the Holder family, but she hadn't taken the bait. Perhaps I overestimated her interest. She stuttered out that it wasn't her business (Warkhim barely resisted the urge to laugh in her face. If it was public knowledge, it was everyone's business, especially his.) who the higher-ups fucked. He kept the births, pairings, and deaths meticulously curated, both in the official archive and in his personal tracking sheet. One never knew when a juicy secret would come in handy, and Warkhim was terribly fond of blackmail. Veiled threats to richer men were slowly but surely making him a wealthy Harper.

Suddenly, Kira withdrew from him with weak excuses about exhaustion. Warkhim narrowed his eyes, corking his stolen wine calmly. Is she really this uncomfortable talking about sex? A thought dawned on him that brought a teeth-barring grin to his face, She's not a whore. She's a virgin. In his estimation, an untouched woman was far more interesting to chase, and claiming his territory on unbroken ground was preferable to sloppy seconds with some dirty slut. His approach abruptly shifted, hoping to give the illusion of safety and respectful understanding. "Of course. You must be quite sleepy after all your hard work."

His face lit up when Kira promised to stop by the Archives to see him, and his tongue unconsciously slipped to the corner of his mouth. He rose from his stool, saying graciously, "I'd love to see you there. Perhaps we can look at your family history? I'll track it down tomorrow and you can stop by later this sevenday. What did you say your parents' names were?" Warkhim felt the need to give her an appealing reason to find him in the Archives, as he still highly doubted she could read or write beyond her name, and what lowborn woman wouldn't want to spend time learning her own history with a man of a higher caste? He was wickedly intelligent, superior in his field, and had generously offered to waste his valuable time on a kitchen drudge's bloodline. He sighed at his own beneficence.

"Let me walk you home, Kira. A young lady shouldn't be alone in the dark when there are foul creatures afoot," he lowly murmured, readjusting his long coat. The autumn nights were chilly, and he hoped Kira might want to cuddle up beside her brave new protector for warmth and comfort. 

Good! Warkhim likes to test the water, lol. He's exceedingly confused about Kira, which makes her a great mystery to stalk unravel.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#11
She nodded cautiously to his statement that she must be tired. That was true, and she was grateful for the shift in conversation. Kira was no real gossip. It just surprised her that he was willing to let her go so easily when he had been so eager to keep her there before. Oh, well. She wasn't about to look a gift runnerbeast in the mouth. Besides, he latched onto her lie about coming by the Archives.

Too well.

"I coul-ldn't take up y-your time with s-s-somethin-ng that un-nimportant. Nothing special in-n my family." Kira demurely deferred his offer as politely as she could. But he had been polite about it, and he was going to hold her to her promise, if his excitement about it was any indication. He had looked happy about it, darn it all! Excited! Oh, well. If she said yes, then perhaps she cuold get into the library unmolested. "But th-then again, could be in-nteres-s-sting. Father is Moran, mother S-senski. Thank y-you for the generous off-fer." She nodded at him in goodbye, then paused when he tucked his coat about him and offered her a walk home.

He was important enough that refusing this particular offer made her hesitate. Falon had already left for his home by this time of night, and her father would be awaiting her. And there was some truth to the idea that it wasn't entirely safe to be wandering about by herself. But if anyone saw her...? She scanned his face briefly. Old enough to be her father. No trouble there. "W-would be gratef-ful," she allowed. That was more polite than Kira really felt about it, but bucking his generosity felt like spitting in his face when, when all was said and done, he had been polite all night (if not a touch crude when bringing up the scandals).

Kira waited for him to join her, then started outside. She gave a shiver in the cool night air. Most anything green was turning colors and losing their leaves. It was pretty, but she couldn't bring herself to truly enjoy it when there were so many things looming in her mind. Warkhim was the least of it, really. "Jus-st a few blocks down," she murmured. Kira and her father lived above a leatherworking shop. It was a lovely little place for the two of them. But there was nothing left to say after that. She just walked forward, shaking slightly in the wind. It drove her a little closer to Warkhim, who was radiating warmth. It made her extremely uncomfortable, and she made note to bring something to wear over her dress next time. Or wear a heavier dress. Either way, something had to be done to keep this from happening again.

She'd just have to remember to stop by later this sevenday. The idea wasn't that attractive to her at all, but as someone who worked in the Archives, he might have the ability to bar her access to the library if she angered him. Kira wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Kira nodded at one of the shops as they went down the streets. It was completely nondescript, simply a building that happened to house her and her father, along with the shop down below. "Th-thank you. Goodnight." Simple, easy, and over with. Kira gave a bright smile at Warkhim as she started for the door.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#12
Derrigan's ballsack, I can't understand a word this stuttering trollop is saying, Warkhim thought, eyebrow twitching upward as Kira named her parents. Moron and Scentsy? What sort of names are those? It mattered very little what her parents' were called- ridiculously named or otherwise- but Warkhim was pleased she been willing to relinquish the information. He'd be able to find her, and her beloved healer-fiancee, with little trouble in the Archives. It tended to surprise visitors how meticulously he kept his records, hoarding every tidbit of information down to the lowest-born bastard. Everything could be useful if properly applied. Besides, this meant she would certainly come see him at work, making the evening's efforts in the kitchen completely worthwhile.

Kira was a more interesting cause than he'd found in a while, and Warkhim was gladly operating under the newer hypothesis that she'd never known a man. They walked together in the autumn night and, as he desired, she inched closer as they approached her family's house above a leatherworking shop. Absolutely fantastic, he squealed internally. The drudge made it so incredibly simple for him to learn her secrets: he knew her name, her parents, her fiancee, her work, her home. Warkhim now knew where she slept at night.

The tiny brunette rushed inside, obviously chilled in the night air, thanking him as she disappeared. He called to her as she opened the door, tucking his wine safely beneath his arm. "Goodnight, Kira. I'll be seeing you."

End of creepfest thread.

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