A Hot Mess for the Weyrleader

Western Weyr - Suldith's Playhouse
This king sized weyr has plenty of space for humans and dragons alike. The floors have been worn smooth and mostly level while the walls remain more rough and uneven all in mottled shades of gray. The roomy dragon couch has been covered in a layer of padding and then furs.The arched opening from the ledge lets in light and when the tropical sun is at rest or hidden in the clouds baskets of glows chase away the darkness from their perches in sconce-like baskets around the weyr interior. A long bar provides a place to eat and is set with four tall barstools, set in front of a wall of cabinetry and a long counter for storage and simple meal preparation. A hewn firepit inhabits one wall and a plaid sofa and chair are set before it on a brick red rug, centered for conversation with a low coffee table and side tables. The living area is kept fairly neat.
The exception to the clean living area is the table in the living room. Zi'on apparently is using it as a work table for some sort of electronics project. It looks like it might be a computer monitor or some other viewing display. There are wires and nuts and bolts laying around, also a soldering gun and a voltmeter.
A smaller arch leads to a short hallway with a bedroom on one end and a washroom on the other. The bedroom is complete with a dresser, bedside tables and a large bed with a mirrored wardrobe reflecting light from glow baskets set around the room. It's very lived-in, there is clothing and random junk all over the place. The washroom is spacious and one corner is taken up by a deep tub and opposite that a shower large enough for at least two.

Zi'on has been a bad bad bronzer. He doesn't remember much about the night at the Tiki Lounge, but he does remember being walked home by Rhysa. And probably left at his doorstep to drown in his own vomit. And the sizeable headache and tummy ache he woke up with the next morning. The bronzer has been having little notes left on her pillow in the subsequent days. Usually accompanied with a flower of some sort. The notes usually tell her to drop by when she can, he should be in his office (which is right across the hall) if not in his weyr. By now he's more like pleading with her so he can apologize in person. It's late, after dinner but not quite lights out. Zi'on is at home, tinkering with some sort of speaker-looking device on his living room table.

It's not that Rhysa's being deliberately cruel in delaying her visit, though there may be a small element of 'let him stew'. In part, it's probably general busyness, and, too, the need to deal with her own thoughts and feelings. Still, it's not something she'll put off forever, and so, finally, she appears in the entrance to Zi'on's weyr. Her hair's pinned up, and her face shows every indication of having been recently scrubbed; her expression is quietly determined. "Hello," she says, in a quiet voice.

Zi'on figures it's mostly a 'let him stew' type of deal. Or that she doesn't really want to see him again, so making efforts to do so seems like a waste of time. Or something. Eventually he would have gone looking for her. To apologize in the most embarrassing way possible, which is probably what he's working on right now. Zi'on is in just shorts and a t-shirt. He looks surprised when Rhysa comes in, standing up and wringing his hands a bit awkwardly. "Oh! Rhysa.. hi. Uh… come on in and sit… You want something? Juice maybe? Klah… Pastry?'" He motions to the couch for sitting, though she is welcome to grab any seat. Or not.

Rhysanna shakes her head no to his offers of refreshment, a gesture that is, at least, not wholly dismissive or anything. The couch gets considered for a moment, but her gaze sweeps past, taking in the rest of the room before she'll actually step forward. Instead of the couch, she perches herself upon one of the bar stools, facing outwards so that she can watch the bronzerider. She's noticed the awkwardness of his hand wringing, and really, she's awkward, too: her mouth opens, she takes in a deep breath, and then she stops, clearly unable to figure out how to start.

Zi'on nods about her lack of refreshment. The bronzer looks at the couch, then watches Rhysa pick a place where there would be no snuggling. So he just stays standing. "I just… wanted to apologize for the other night. Getting so drunk… and all the stuff you had to hear about me. Naeda not helping. Or my previous… you know. I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to hear about all that." His shoulders droop. "I know I keep saying it, and I mean it… it's all in the past now. And I'll do whatever you want me to to make it up to you. I swear. Anything, Rhysanna. I just… unfortunately I can't go back and change anything that I did before."

There's a long pause, following all of that, during which time Rhysanna watches Zi'on, but also plays with the hem of her skirt - a nervous gesture, probably. "I'm not mad because you got drunk," she says, finally. "Or because you have a past. What you did before isn't really my business, is it? It doesn't hurt me." It's really quite a meaningful amount of emphasis that she puts on that word. "Maybe I shouldn't even be mad at all, except that…" She breaks off, swallowing. "Sorel's cot is pretty close to mine, in the dorm. We talk. And now I know all about his intentions towards Kiltara, and how he feels about cheating, and how you do you think that makes me feel, knowing what I know?"

Zi'on frowns. "I.. well… it is a little bit of your business…" The bronzer looks at her when she explains why she's angry. Oh. That makes a lot of sense. "I… I see. To be honest I didn't know they had any intentions of anything. Kiltara sort of initiated it so I really didn't know what to think. And… I didn't really think about it. And without a good excuse it's hard for me to say no.' He sighs. They're all pretty flimsy excuses. "So… you think I'm a homewrecker then."

Rhysanna makes a face, though it's hard to tell exactly what it's in answer to: the situation, Zi'on's excuses, her own feelings. "I don't know what you are, because I don't know what actually happened, aside from what you've just told me." Her voice is softer now - not just in volume, but also in tone. "And I don't know that I want to know. I just know that it makes me uncomfortable, and that if Sorel ever finds out he's probably going to want to kill you. Even if she initiated it." She lifts one hand, rubbing at her forehead, at the lines that have appeared there. "And I'd prefer that didn't happen, so I won't say anything, despite the fact that I hate lying by omission. Or that he'd hate me, too, if he found out I knew and didn't say."

Zi'on stands there, looking apologetic and well… pathetic. "I'm… not a very good person." He scrubs his face then, and paces a little bit. "Do you think I should tell him? He is going to want to kill me. He'll probably come after me with a knife and I'll have to have him arrested after he stabs me. Well.. it's not a big secret anymore really. He'll find out eventually. And there are a lot of other people who could tell him. But if it'll make you feel better I'll tell him myself." He looks at her, as if expecting some direction here.

It's the pathetic that seems to soften Rhysanna's expression, though only minutely. She hesitates, watching the pacing, and seems genuinely flustered by his eventual glance. "I…" she begins. "I don't want him to stab you, and I don't want him to end up arrested. I don't think that's going to help. I ''wish'' the two of you hadn't been so stupid, but… I acknowledge that it's too late to fix that." She sighs, giving Zi'on an unhappy look. "I feel like I'm in over my head. How am I supposed to know what… what you should do. What I should. What anyone should."

Zi'on frowns. "Well I don't know what to do, either. Unless Kiltara tells him and can talk him down, I don't see him having a good reaction. I mean I can promise not to have him arrested, but if he puts me out of commission for sure someone else will. And getting stabbed isn't high up my priority list. Been there done that." He sighs. "Anyways… I don't want you to feel like you're involved. Or that you need to be involved, or that you need to keep secrets or anything for me. It's not fair to make you mediate my bad situations. Maybe I'll talk to Kiltara, see if I can get her to try and iron things out. And see if me being there will help, or if he'll just try to strangle me after he finds out."

Rhysanna chews on her lip rather than answer immediately, though her tentative nod is answer to something. "She's just as culpable as you are," she murmurs. "And she is involved, whereas I'm… trying not to be." Her nod, this time, is likely intended to emphasize that. "I'm going to try not to think about it. Or worry. Just…" She swallows, studying the bronzerider cautiously. "There's nothing else that's going to come out into the open and end up being awful, is there? Unrelated to this. And nothing else that's likely to mean I need to escort you drunk again like that? Because while I'm not bad about that, I can't say I enjoyed it."

Zi'on runs his fingers through his hair, sighing a bit. "Alright, I'll talk to her. Maybe we can sort this whole thing out without brewing a war." He blinks at her question. "No. I don't think so. I'm sure my ex would have some pretty awful things to say about me, if you happen to bump into her at some point." He ponders. "I did have a major crush on Iris for a while. Ila'den's weyrmate. That's been over for a while, though. And… I slept with my father's weyrmate once. It was a flight though, so… That's about all my dirty laundry. Most of it I've come to terms with a long time ago." He rubs his neck a bit, sheepishly. "No more drunken nights like that. Or at least if I have one I will escort myself home."

"That would be preferable," agrees Rhysanna. "Don't…" But she stops herself, shaking her head firmly. "I'll just leave it to you." Her expression is cautiously relieved, after that, perhaps both because she's let go of the issue, and because Zi'on's answer to the rest is reassuring. "All right," she concludes, then, giving a nod that is firmer than her previous ones have been. "That's all I can ask, then. Thank you, for being honest." She slides, carefully, off of the stool, returning herself to her feet.

Zi'on blinks at her, tilting his head. "Don't…?" He's curious as to what advice she might have. Wear a kevlar vest? Or newspaper around his midsection? The bronzer laces his fingers behind his head as she slides off her stool. He moves away from the door, as that's where he's figured she's head. "So… Us then? I mean… I dunno if… things have changed for you or not." And Zi'on doesn't like to make assumptions. Because at least he's smart enough to know that he's always wrong when he does.
A quick shake of her head dismisses that first question, and in a determined kind of way: she is not offering advice. No way, no how. It's the latter question, as full of pauses as it is, that has her stopping, inhaling, exhaling. "I'm not going to break up with you because you did something stupid before you were with me," is what she says, chin lifted so that she can try and meet his gaze. "I'm not thrilled, maybe, with all of this, but I'm not going to let it… sabotage things."

Not even if Zi'on wants some advice? Or at least to hear that he's sort of doing the right thing. Or that he's not a complete jerk who does not deserve love in this lifetime. Zi'on gives her a cautious smile and tries not to look too relieved when she says that no, she will not be leaving him because of this whole mess. "Thank you, Rhysa. I promise you won't regret it. I know we've had this string of crappy times, but we'll start making some happy memories from now on." The bronzer just stands there awkwardly, half smiling at her. Yes, he's too afraid to even give her a hug right now.

Not even then! Rhysas don't make important decisions on their own very often, but when they do… In answer to that half smile, she gives a tentative one of her own— and then, though she too seems awkward in it, she steps right up to him, initiating the obviously-required hug all on her own. It's not a lingering one, though, and she makes no move to kiss him before she withdraws. Instead: "I should get back to the dorm before curfew. But… we're okay. It'll be fine."
Zi'on returns the hug. He looks for a kiss but the hug is over far too soon for it. The bronzer is left feeling scolded and ashamed and pretty hurt. Also worried that Rhysa doesn't really feel the 'it'll be fine' part of her closing remarks. He nods to her, though, and puts on his best 'I'm okay' face. "Probably a good idea. I guess… I'll see you later then, Rhysa." He at least gets the door for her. All gentleman-like, or something.

Rhysanna may well be aware that she's not quite done enough to ease any of those lingering tensions, because she pauses before heading out the door, and gives the bronzerider a genuinely warm smile. "Soon," she promises. "I won't even make you wait, next time." She doesn't wait for a reply, though: off she goes, into the night.

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