ph_logs | Under a Summer Sky | Closed to Siebren

Under a Summer Sky | Closed to Siebren

Who: Drelasa and Siebren
Where: Crane's Ridge
What: Stargazing, and maybe something more...
When: Early July
Warnings: Possible discussions of trauma and mental illness (although hopefully this thread will be mostly positive)

With a basket of goodies on her arm, Drelasa makes her way to Crane's Ridge. This is her first time wearing her new robes- red trimmed with black and gold stitchwork, with a heavily embroidered stole- as well as her first time being socially out and about after her surgery, so she's feeling a good more self-confidence than usual. Of course, she already feels more calm around Siebren than most people, but the extra boost still feels good.

She arrives a little early, in order to have time to set things out. Most of the food will stay in the basket until her kena's arrival, to keep it safe from the ants, but she can set out the blanket and lay out a bottle of wine. She's spared no expense for this evening; she wants Siebren to feel as appreciated as he makes her feel.

She's going to keep her mask on and her hood up until she hears his approach, but once he's there...

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The distinction between Siebren and Sigma is driven home by the himself who shows up, her dear kena instead of whatever he was while making sure she ate her fill at the party.

He has the violin Serranai gave him in hand; she's providing food, and he can offer something else to the occasion.

"Did you intend to robe yourself in the same color as that local cult to Nyarlathotep?"

Despite the lack of conventional facial features, there’s something clearly surprised in how her flutes suddenly tense and curl.

“I… no, I didn’t realize. These are the traditional colors of my House. I didn’t mean to…” she trails off, clearly struggling with mixed feelings.

"Ah. You might be thoughtful about wearing that in town, where those killed by the cult might be startled to see them."

For his own part, Siebren is calm and at peace. Drelasa is Drelasa is Drelasa.

“I… suppose I can wear my old things, until I can afford to have other robes made.” Her disappointment is clear, but she doesn’t want to do anyone any harm. She also feels a little embarrassed, at having not realized that the color of her robes would be a problem, even if she had no real way of knowing.

"It's nothing you need to worry about tonight. I'm looking at you and the sky and this beautiful meal, not what you're wearing."

He drifts closer to her, fingertips brushing her shoulder.

“I’d… hope you’re maybe looking just a little, kena. These robes will, I hope, flow nicely while dancing.”

His touch pushes her frustration aside, and she relaxes.

“I do hope you like what I brought. I wasn’t sure what sort of wine you like.”

"I'm not a connoisseur--I like wine that tastes like grapes, not like shoe polish. Beyond that, it's quibbling to me."

Hell, he'd be happy with a cup of grape juice, but that's apparently not dignified to most people.

“I suppose it’s best that I chose a sweet wine, then.” She’s not a fan of dry wines, either. A part of her wonders if it comes from years of growing accustomed to the “sacraments of the Sixth House,” which always had a sweet taste, but, uh… that’s not a comparison she wants to dwell on too much right now. She offers the bottle to him, before reaching for a nearby pear and beginning to slice it.

“Now. From what I’ve been told, there’s a bright spot in the eastern sky that’s visible about fifteen degrees.. what was the term you used, for above the horizon? And that spot is supposed to be a colorful nebula, near enough for its features to be seen with a telescope.”

"I see it. It looks faintly yellow, without the telescope." He's going to eat before pulling out the big brass monstrosity. So faintly yellow is good enough for now.

"Is it much brighter, compared to the surrounding stars?" She sits down beside him, with a little more grace than usual. There's something very mindful about how she moves, from folding her legs beneath her, to smoothing the skirt of her robe once she's seated. Then, she offers him a plate. Her hands are notably freshly-dressed and quite clean.

Siebren accepts the plate, his hand brushing the bandages on hers lightly.

"It is. But not as bright as you, kena." He's not sure the line sounds right, coming from him, but it sure does just come out of him.

She giggles. The sound echoes into and back out of her with a faint and unearthly reverb.

“Well, I do have the unfair advantage of proximity! I do. It think you would see me so well if I occupied a similar spot in the heavens. Or do you think I would be clever enough to learn the arts of the stars, were I among them?”

"I think you would become my polestar, to orient to and to navigate by. And you would be celestial in nature without struggle."

Oh. This is nice. He's flirting. Like actively flirting.

Again, despite the presence of the usual facial tells, there’s something reminiscent of a smile in how her flutes relax. Perhaps it’s something like how one smiles with their eyes as much as their mouth.

“I would do my best to be a guide, kena. I do not imagine I would be like the more capricious stars. Ah, but perhaps my nervousness in the aetherial court would make me a more steadfast guide- I think I would keep still, in fear of trodding on heavenly toes.”

"You're too modest, Drelasa." It's quiet and warm and then he leans in to press his lips so gently to one of her flutes.

She’s clearly surprised, but she does not shy away. The flute in question lets out a quavering note, like a bit of birdsong.

“Siebren… you honor me, truly.”

"Oh, good, so that's alright with you. That I kiss your face, I mean." Look, he's still figuring out how to love his noodlefaced lass.

"I do not mind at all. I... may take some time to get used to the idea, but I very much am not opposed."

Her laugh passes through her flutes, transforming into a flighty dithering of a woodwind quintet.

"I... am not sure how I feel about my body. About my boundaries and my limits. Dunmeri culture is a strange set of contradictions, both very permissive and very reserved, and my condition adds further layers of that reservation. The Tribunal Temple called my being an abomination. The heads of my house say that we should be proud, that we have been blessed, chosen. I would... I would like to learn how to be simply comfortable, in my being. And I would trust you to be with me on that journey, if you're willing."

"Oh, good. Because I've been trying to figure out how to ask if I can just sit and hold you, or even if you'd consider allowing me to do so."

Look, the man has fantasies of such wild things as cuddling.

Is that a faint flush to her coloration? It’s hard to say, with her alien features.

“I… I would be delighted to try, kena. Shall we…?”

"Here, I'm going to move to sit where nothing's in front of me, and you can place yourself in my arms and lap however you're comfortable."

And he does just that, gently setting his plate aside.

She has no idea what is and isn’t an awkward position, but eventually she does settle. Though it shouldn’t be a problem for a man who commands gravity, she’s heavier than one would expect, and her body is strangely hard under that robe, almost like large sections of her body are made of bundled pebbles. She’s eager, but also embarrassed.

Siebren settles in against her, having no trouble with the weight. It's almost comforting, an anchor to keep him from floating away. His arms wrap loosely around her, and after a moment he lets out a contented sigh.

"Have you... ever had feelings like this before, Siebren?"

"Of the same timbre, but not nearly the same intensity, when I was a much younger man in school. Before I became serious about my career." It was a fling, as a college boy. Look, it happens.

She nods.

"I... felt that way once, too. I never pursued it. He was outside of my family's station. I was tempted to run away with him, but... I did not want to throw away what my family had worked for generations to build. And... it was shortly after that that I fell ill."

"Mm. Would your family approve of me, given I'm not of your kind at all?" House Dagoth, Dunmer, any of it.

“It’s the Fourth Era. There are plenty of pairings betwixt men and mer. I do not think my parents would have any reservations about my spending my time with someone as considerate and educated as yourself. And my family in Kogoruhn… all they really ask of anyone is acceptance.” It isn’t that her parents would have disapproved of the farmhand… it was Drelasa herself who had held herself to the social expectations of a barely-landes family.

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Under a Summer Sky | Closed to Siebren

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