Participants:
| Date: | Aug 20, 2011 |
|---|---|
| IC Date: | Month 8, Day 1, Turn 3. |
| Location: | EW: Garden |
| Synopsis: | Nenienne finds Kaskan trying to practice despite his previous injuries. |
| Rating: | PG |
| Logger: | Kaskan |
CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS:
Nenienne
In her late teens or early twenties, Neni has a youthful face clear of acne or other teenage maladies. Her eyes are gray and her features rather plain, perhaps slightly on the pretty side. Her brown hair is cut short, not even reaching her shoulders, and curls in the back. She is about 5'7" and her build is average, her propotions indicating that she has finished growing.
Neni is wearing a modestly-cut black short-sleeved blouse and black leggings. Although her clothing is naturally undecorated, glints of dust from the metals she works with are scattered about, especially in the front. Her undyed wherhide boots are not free from the speckles either. On her shoulder is a red knot tied to indicate a journeyman of the Smithcraft. —23 turns.
Kaskan
Thick wisps of ebony fall in half-hazard lengths to shadow rugged features, over-long layers typically in disarray as they feather pale blue eyes, flare about his ears and tickle the nape of his neck. Full lips precede a square-ish jaw, which often bears a dusky shadow of its own. Scars from too many fights mar what would be a handsome visage, most notably one that splices across his left brow stopping just short of his eye. A slight hitch ends his left ear in an oddly curved shape, though it's usually hidden beneath his hair. Darkly intense, his bearing is defensive and watchful, wiry muscles having filled out to create a solid, sturdy frame. Not overly tall, he is a grounded, immovable rock - just as thickly guarded on the inside as he is thickly muscled on the outside - a deceptive impression that suits him well for the panther quick grace that's displayed when he's on the move. – 20 turns
LOG:
Evening, dinner-time in fact, finds Kaskan in an unusual place. Instead of the Living Cavern or kitchen eating dinner with most of the weyrfolk he's in the small garden-like area of the weyr bowl. The timing is intentional. Less chance of being disturbed during what is a difficult task. Stripped to the waist he is wearing only a pair of old trousers cut off and fraying at the knee. Even his feet are bare as he moves through a quick series of steps on the soft grass. His torso and arms follow in graceful suit, a misleadingly eloquent ballet of forms that have deadly results when used to deliver a favored weapon, the staff. As he completes one slow circle he suddenly turns back and chops down with one arm - then just as quickly doubles over, gripping his arm to his stomach and hisses a variety of curses through clenched teeth.
Nenienne arrives just in time to witness the collapse, and her usually grim expression becomes concerned. Standing out of arm's reach, she pitches her voice low and calls out, "Should I get a Healer?"
Kaskan jerks aright at the sound of a voice. Over-long bangs partially obscure the narrowing of pale blue eyes as he looks toward the sound. Recognizing the gem crafter he relaxes, but shoulders still remain tense, his expression clouded. "No," he tells her, forcing words through the strain of his tone. "I just.. overdid it a bit." Wounded arm still bent close he slowly rubs it with his good hand. "What're you doing out here?" So much for tact.
Nenienne doesn't seem to mind the abruptness at all, perhaps because her social skills are limited, at best. "Sometimes I like seeing color that isn't shiny," she offers as her reason for being there.
Kaskan considers that a moment, small creases feathering his rugged features. Assorted replies slip over his tongue but are discarded. In the end he merely shrugs. "Ok." Tentively lowering his arm he flexes his hand a few times, expression tightening. "No way I'm letting the healers get their hands on me again," he murmers. As if reminded he looks up, gaze dropping over Nenienne's frame. "How're you doing? All healed?"
Nenienne nods, adding, "As far as we can tell, I have use of my right hnd again. It was close, though — I needed physical therapy up to the sevenday on the outside of the recovery range."
Kaskan breathes out heavily, as always feeling a wave of guilt for what she suffered. Relief colors his voice though as he nods to her results, "Thank Faranth for that." Rolling his shoulder he glances to the side, where a jar sits atop his folded shirt in the shadow of a bush. "Can you get me that jar?"
Nenienne nods and crosses over to the pile, picking up the jar in her left hand. As she bring it over, she asks, "Need me to get this lid off?"
Kaskan waits till her back is turned to give his hand a quick shake, the rush of blood tingling throughout throbbing muscle. Jaw set, he shoves down the ache when she brings the jar, his chin dropping in agreement. "Sure, thanks."
Nenienne untwists the lid, handing him the jar and keeping hold of the cover.
Instead of taking the jar, Kaskan reaches inside and scoops out some of the cream-colored gel inside. Rubbing it on his other arm he smoothes it into his skin from elbow to wrist before sighing softly and giving Nenienne a nod. "That's better, thanks." Glancing sidelong his lips twist ruefully. "Guess I'd better leave off that last part for a bit longer yet."
Nenienne says, "Sounds like a good idea," her voice wry. "You might want to talk to Triffie, though. It's largely thanks to her physical therapy that I recovered full use of my arm and hand. She didn't even make me meet her in the Infirmary."
Dark brows perk with interest at that suggestion, anything that doesn't involve the infirmary sounding good. "Triffie. Got it." Flexing his hand again he seems to do it a little easier. "Would you mind doing one more thing?" he asks, a coersive smile pulling at his lips.
Nenienne hmmmms thoughtfully, then lapses into silence. Finally she notes, "It would depend on what."
Kaskan turns to face her fully then, his feet setting in a loose stance that precludes more of those flowing routine moves. "Hold up your hands, palms toward me."
Nenienne hesitates, than does so, the lid still in clasped in her right hand and the jar balanced precariously in her left.
Kaskan smirks, dipping his chin toward the ground. "Set those down."
With a playful expression just shy of a smile, she does so, taking the liberty of capping the jar as she does so. Then she stands back up with her palms facing him as instructed.
Kaskan gives his head a quick jerk to the side, sending uneven raven layers back from his face before dipping his chin and giving Nenienne a studiously serious look. "Hold perfectly still," he tells her, unable to keep amusement at her expression completely from his voice. Raising his fists to bob just below his chin, he suddenly darts one arm forward and slams his curled fingers into her palm, whipping it back again in one swift motion. Three more quick jabs follow, each with the same fist but alternating which of her hands to which it connects. Muscles flex across his shoulders and chest, giving the strikes strength but using restraint as well. Pausing, he checks her expression again, musing, "Well, at least that one doesn't give me any trouble."
At the first strike Neni says, "Ow, what was that for?" in an exaggeratedly agrieved tone, though she doesn't draw away. Only when he's finished and explained himself does she snort softly. "Glad to be of assistance."
Kaskan laughs softly at her response, his smile blossoming wider this time. "You make a good sparring partner - you don't strike back," he jokes. Stance straightening he flexes his injurred hand again. "Don't think I'll try the other today though." Giving her a look tinged in challenge he asks, "Mind continuing now that you've got the hang of it?"
Nenienne looks rather dubious at the proposal, then she gets a crafty expression, saying "If you'll help me with self-defense."
Kaskan blinks, surprised at her counter-offer. Then he laughs again, the sound rolling deeply from his chest. Arms cross as he eyes her, pale blue hues bright. "Alright," he nods, thinking he might understand where her request is coming from and feeling all the more obligated to help however he can. "It's a deal." Giving his head a little shake he murmurs, "Outta be more interesting than just punching a bag, that's for sure."
