Triangles Have Sharp Points

Log Info

• Title: Triangles Have Sharp Points
• Emitter: Tawyse
• Characters: Tawyse, Skielstregar
• Place: The Wilderness
• Time: December 27th, 2021
• Summary: Skielstregar seeks out Tawyse at her camp, offering firewood and pelts for the cold nights. They share words, the half-dead makari admitting his thick headedness about his relationship with Vaera. And now things were much more complicated between all involved parties. It hurts, they cry it out, and then go sledding in the snow to distract themselves.

A chilly day has descended into a chilly darkness, dark clouds chasing each other across the sky. Occasionally, once can see the stars above, winking in and out.

From a distance, the camp is very well hidden. Snow has accumulated outside, covering the regular pattern of the stick walls. The fire puts out very little smoke, which is more easily smelled than seen.

The Gnome is resident in her little camp, humming tunelessly as she tends to her usual chores: dressing game, smoking a variety of meats, with hot chocolate ready to be sipped.

There's a trudging sound that comes from outside the camp. Large, slow steps that break the blanket. A figure, a dark silhouette on the black sky, large, massive.

There's a clearing of the throat. Ahem. "Tawysssse?" the figure calls out. Deep. Rumbling. Familiar.

A bronze scaled face peeks their head in from the edge of the camp. "Peassse on your nessst," they greet, holding a bundle of something to their chest.

Taw gives a bit of a start at the sound of Skiel clearing his throat. She's snatched up her staff before recognizing his voice, and she giggles in relief. "Peace on your nest, please come in, SKiel. I've got some oatmeal just about ready, with a few little additions to make it a little sweet. Would you like some? And some hot chocolate?"

The massive makari ducks in once's he's invited, him crouch walking around to sit in large enough space for him. "Ah, thisss one would not mind hot chocolate, thank you."

He sets the bundle down: a small stack of firewood, and a heavy pelt. He watches the gnome for a moment, dead eyes stilling before he moves to dust the snow off his tunic. "Are you well?"

She presses a Sith-sized mug into his hands a few moments after he is settled, grinning broadly. "I am well. How are you faring, Skiel?" The Gnome stirs at a pot over the stove that bubbles and smells of oats and spices.

"It's starting to get colder. I suspect there will be more snow too."

"Yesss, it isss. Thisss one looks forward to it," Skielstregar hums, taking the mug gladly as his talons wrap around it carefully. He looks down at the cup, him sighing lightly. Of course she had a sith-sized mug laying around.

He takes a sip. "Thisss one isss well, for the mossst part. They have been letting loosssse, like we suggesssted. Thisss one thinksss it has been working well. Their mind isss more clear."

Tawyse sips at her own mug, one much smaller than the one Skiel has. "I am looking forward to seeing you romp in the snow." Her expression brightens, and she nods. "That is good news, I am glad to hear it. Does it make you pleased? Do you feel more confident in yourself?"

Skiel can't help softly chuckle at that, him running a thumb over the rim of the cup. "Thisss one enjoys sssleeping in it, then waking up with a pile of it atop them," he admits a with a light smile.

There's a small bob of his head. "... somewhat, yesss. They do not like calling that ssside of him forth, but it isss better than a bad day like lassst time. Thisss one feelsss... a bit more confident," the man rumbles, looking off to the entrance of the camp. He sips.

A large bowl of oatmeal is passed over, with a wooden spoon standing up in the thick of it. "This is also good news. I am sad to say that I have not yet heard back from my contacts about the Silver Crescent. I will let you know once I get something, okay?"

The Gnome settles down with her own bowl, and begins wolfing it down.

A bit surprised from getting his own bowl, Skiel smiles some and accepts it, nestling it into his lap. "Thank you. And that is all well, it has not been much time sssince your inquiry."

He nibbles on his food, watching Tawyse for a spell before clearing his throat and pushing forward his bundle of pelts and firewood. "Thisss one hass giftsss, to help with the cold."

The Gnome blinks, and grins, "Oh. You didn't have to do that. Thank you!" She busies herself for a few moments, storing the firewood for later, leaving a few logs by the fire for immediate use. The pelts are bundled into the sleeping lean-to.

"Do you know your uhm shoe size?", Tawyse wonders.

Skiel shakes his head, waving it off. "It isss nothing, there is plenty, and it isss bessst to ssshare in the winter."

He tilts his head to the side, then looks down at this taloned feet. He flexes them. "... ah.. thisss... one would not know. They do not wear ssshoesss. Why might you ask?"

"No reason, just curious.", she says quickly, as she settles down beside the Sith. Her hot chocolate is quickly drained, and then she gets back to shoveling the oatmeal into her face.

"Did you want to stay the night?", the Gnome wonders quietly. "You're always welcome to."

That gets a scaled brow to raise. "Uhuh..." he hmms curiously before getting back into his chocolate and oat meal.

The question comes, and Skielstregar slows in his half finished meal. "Ah. Thisss one might, due to how late it isss..." he murmurs, setting his bowl into his lap to look at the gnome. He is still, like a corpse, until he blinks twice. "Thiss one knows they are welcome, and they appreciate that."

A sip of hot chocolate to clear his throat. "... earlier, you asssked of confidence," he poses, then continues, "... thisss one hass... been meaning to speak with you." His gaze goes a bit unfocused, pensive.

The Gnome nods at Skiel, "Yes, confidence. And by all means, please, say what is on your mind."

She rubs at her chin for a moment, before scooping out more hot chocolate into her mug. "I'm all ears."

Skielstregar takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly. "Thisss one... is... thick skulled, and dense," he prefaces, gaze swaying from Tawyse then back to his mug. "Your... proposition normally wouldn't affect thisss one. But their confidence mussst have have returned sssomewhat, asss they felt.. confusssed about the matter. Which meansss they are not outright sssaying no."

His head lowers until it clonks against the side of the cup. His voice quiets. More a rumble than any true tone. "... and... ssseeking the wisssdom from the one perssson that knew them well about thisss... thisss one isss now in a tough posssition of hurting hisss friendsss..."

GAME: Tawyse rolls sense motive: (17)+4: 21

The Gnome cants her head slightly, listening with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"It would make sense to seek council from a good friend. But uhm..." She traces idly on the ground with a thin finger. "Your friend had feelings for you. And now you're stuck."

Tawyse eyes him then. "That about the size of it?"

Skielstregar stiffens as Tawyse seems to piece it together. Then he groans quietly. And keeps groaning, head lowering until his snout got into the cup.

"*siiiiiiiiiiigggggghhh-brlgglrglrglrl.*"

He rises, coughing and wiping his nose off with the back of his arm, him a bit embarrased. "... yesss... you are wissse. That isss... the right of it..."

He frowns some, looking at his lap. "... thisss one is a fool for not realizing sssooner, and might end up hurting hisss friend Taw, and or hisss friend Vaera."

Taw struggles mightily to keep from laughing, instead offering up a small cloth with which he can properly clean his nose out.

"It is brave of you to speak the truth. It is a good person who seeks not to hurt his friends."

The Gnome lets out a low breath. "But it is unfair to put you on the spot like this. You shouldn't be forced to choose." She falls silent for a moment, a few emotions warring for dominance on her face. "You should ask Vaera to be your mate."

Skielstregar can't help but keep the rumble of a chuckle out of his breath from that display, him reaching out to gladly take the cloth. "Thank you," he murmurs, using the cloth to cleanse the chocolate from his system. He buries the cloth into some snow, then pulls it out, cleaning it off and setting it aside.

Words are shared, and his face grows still. He looks to his lap.

The man's face would be red, if he were softskin.

"... thisss one wasss told it wasss important to be honessst to everyone involved. And they... they are trying to be. And it'sss... hard..." He gulps, glances to Tawyse, then looks back at his lap. "... thisss one... told her to wait for thisss one to get their affliction under better control sssso they can search their heart for thisss."

His head sinks further, and buries his face into a hand. "... Vaera... asss a mate... ssssuch a thought had never crosssed thisss one'sss mind..."

A small hand lightly strokes the top of his head, Taw standing on tiptoe to do so. "Is she willing to wait for you?", the Gnome wonders. "And you should think about that. Love often leads in that direction, yes?"

Skiel pauses at the touch, him pulling out of his brief self loathing to look at her, him head level with how he was hunched over. "Yesss.. it... tendsss to. And she hasss her own thingsss to work through, ssso she issss willing to wait."

At that, his expression turns sad. Silver eyes settling on the gnome. "... and what of you, Taw? Thisss concernsss you just assss much."

A little quiver in her lips precedes a sniffle, and she lets out a little breath. "I would wait, if asked. I just don't wish to hurt your friend, Vaera. Or you."

Skiel blinks, his eyes softening some. "Taw..." he whispers, eyes downcast as he reaches out to carefully place a hand on her shoulder. "... thisss one isss... sssorry thisss isss how thingssss developed, and for not... realizing thisss complication sooner.."

"It's not your fault who falls for you.", Tawyse says, sniffling more, on the verge of tears. "You don't have to apologize to me."

She leans into Skiel then. "I'm not mad."

"T... Taw..." he murmurs, his own dead eyes starting to film over. Without a word, he sets his food and drink aside and carefully pulls the gnome to his lap, and hugs her carefully.

Tawyse seems comforted by the hug, her sniffling lessening. "It is my fault." The Gnome lets out a sigh. "And I don't know how to fix it."

"I should have gotten to know you better, maybe that would have let me see that Vaera was also interested."

Skielstregar shakes his head. "There isss no fault to blame here, Taw," the man rumbles, completely wrapping the embrace with a single arm. He's cold, but it's not a jagged hold, as it seems that under the tunic there was no scales to jab against oneself.

He closes his eyes, listening to the crackle of the fire and the silence of a snow covered landscape beyond. "Perhapsss there is no fixss. It sssimply isss."

The Gnome buries her face in his tunic, shaking lightly as the tears flow. "Maybe you're right.", she says softly.

The makari lets out a sigh, slow and rumbling, broken staccato by the tightness in his throat. It seemed like a friend was going to get hurt either way. "... it isss okay to shed tearsss, Taw. You have ssseen thisss one at their most vulnerable. Tearsss isss how thisss is..." he sniffles, "... thisss isss fixed, perhapsss."

"I will keep a promise with you, though, Skiel. I'll still help you subdue your affliction.", Taw says softly. "No matter what happens, okay? Even if I hurt."

A hand reaches up to run fingertips across his cheek. "Then maybe... we can help the others."

A promise kept. Evidence of hurt.

Skiel's frame tenses somewhat at that, his spare hand digging into the dirt beside him. It was his turn for tears to dribble down. His head cants into the touch carefully.

"... yesss.... help... the otherssss... like thisss one..."

It's not addressing the problem.

".... thisss one... *sniff* t-thisss one is... isss torn on how they sssshould feel..."

The Gnome attempts to get her arms around him as best she can, squeezing lightly.

"Oh?", is her reply, as she looks up at him. "You could try talking it out, hmm? I'll listen."

Skielstregar picks up the cloth from before and wipes his face off with it, him carefully giving a return squeeze in the hug with an arm. He sighs, a shuddering thing, "... you are kind to thisss one, ssshow thisss one that they are... worth embracing," he clears his throat. "And... you try to help thisss one'sss isssuesss without this one even asking..."

He holds out a hand to the side, like he was showing another option. "... and Vaera hasss helped thisss one for a long, long time, and trussstsss thisss one to not go crazy and hurt her. Sssshe hasss her own isssuesss that thisss one hasss helped her through..."

And then, the hand moves again. A... third choice? "And yet, thissss one isssn't even /sure/ if they ssshould make a choice. Either, or none. None hurtsss both. Choosssing hurtssss the other."

The hand returns to his face, a poor attempt at catching tears, as they slip through the cracks betwixt his fingers. "... everyone is ssso nice to thisss one... it'sss... hard... to make everyone happy..."

She delicately takes the cloth, and stands on his thigh to dab at his tears on both cheeks. "It is impossible to do so, and that is one of life's cruelties. You must choose what makes you most happy. What pleases you. Hurts happen."

Tawyse smiles, reach up to hug around his neck. "The fact that this troubles you is what makes you a good person." Her hand thumps lightly at his chest, roughly where she guesses his heart to be. "In here. There are many who'd not care at all that a decision they make makes someone hurt."

Skiel stills so she could help him out, but he doesn't pull his hand away from his visage. Slowly, his head bobs, pulling the gnome up some as she hugs his neck. "... yesss, such isss life..."

The thump on his chest makes him pause. The tiny hand able to feel a divot in the flesh through the fabric. "... thank you, Tawysssse..." he rumbles, getting a better grip on himself as he hugs the gnome once more. "You have... been very helpful, in the sssshort time thisss one hasss known you, and they thank you deeply for it..."

Tawyse giggles lightly, squeezing again. "You are most welcome, Skiel. You, too, have been helpful to me. And you have tolerated my closeness when you seem ... shy to it."

Using his shoulder, she pulls herself up high enough to kiss his cheek. "You're a good friend, and also a dear."

That seemed to disarm him, the man mumbles and fidgeting with his fingers, talons clanking against one another. "A-Ah, well, um, thisss one isssn't used to othersss being ssso forward with their interes-"

Blink.

He stares a hole into his lap.

Yep. He'd be red right now. "... thank you," he manages to squeak out, an octave and a half higher than usual.

"I could be more forward if you wish?", the Gnome says softly, with a giggle. "But I would be afraid that you'd catch fire." Her fingertips stroke along his cheek once more. "You really are adorable."

Skielstregar shakes his head minutely. "... pleassse, don't. Thisss one will die again," he mumbles, a tinge of a joking tone finally creeping in. "... thank... you."

He pauses for a moment, steels himself, then leans down. His large head carefully nuzzles against the side of Tawyse's, minding the numerous sharp teeth and fangs.

He pulls away, and rubs the side of his neck, looking away. "But, in all seriousssnesss, please do not. They do not mind the teasssing. But they do not wisssh for thisss already complicated matter to become more complicated."

The Gnome goes still he nuzzles against her, and giggles as he looks away. "I'll be good. For the most part." She rubs at her cheek lightly, trying to hide the flush.

"I won't make things worse. I mean, it'll just end up hurting someone, possibly me. So." Taw shrugs lightly, and then cants her head slightly. "Can you actually die again?"

Skielstregar chuffs, him moving Tawyse a bit so she can sit on his leg easily so he can pick up his drink once more. He bobs his head in agreement, not needing to visit the topic further and expounding on what they both cried over already.

"Hmm? Yess, they can. They have been ran through once. They can be ran through again."

"I am willing to wait and see what happens.", she says softly. "So. Would you like to go run about in the snow for a bit, or are you tired enough to sleep?" The Gnome pats Skiel's stomach lightly. "There are a few nice hills nearby, we could slide down."

The man's dead gaze softens somewhat, him looking into his cup. Skiel doesn't have anything to add.

He smiles a bit at that. "Oh. Thissss one can go through the sssnow. That sssounds sssplendid," he hums. There was no scales where she pats, like patting a barkless tree. "What, do you intend to ride on thisss one's back assss they are to be the sssled?" he teases.

Tawyse's hand gently pats around the same general area where she first touched, her expression quizzical. "I had thought about holding onto one of your horns and riding on your shoulders. Or, changing into some animal and running around with you."

The Gnome giggles, leaning in to hug the Sith. "But now that you gave me that great idea..." She hops up from his leg, and begins to tend to the fire and food.

"Let me put the rest of the food away, and put out the fire, then we can go!"

The more she inspects, the more is revealed: he seems to have no scales on his torso. Though, again, it was like patting a barkless tree. Those muscles didn't stop on his arms, after all.

Skiel snorts, giving the gnome a one armed hug and carefully setting her back down on the ground. "Fine, fine, thisss one will serve asss a ssssled. For now."

He rises to his knees, helping sort the camp out before getting ready to depart. There's a pause in his labor, then it resumes, him murmuring out. "... thank you again."

Taw pauses and glances over at the bronze-scale. "I should thank you, as well. You have been very sweet about the whole thing. As well as being a solid companion."

The food is hidden away, and then the Gnome smothers the fire. "May I ask you something really personal that you probably don't want to talk about?"

Skielstregar softly sighs. "... thisss one jussst wantsss othersss to be happy, and not hurt anyways isss all," he humbly mentions. "But, your thanksss isss appreciated."

He blinks, him tilting his head to the side. "Uh... ssssure? Though, thisss one won't anssswer any sssspear questionsss unless they have about half a keg of ale." He nervously chuckles.

"Don't they say that one hurts the ones they love?", she wonders idly before digging about in the lean-to filled with goods. From it she pulls out a pair of snowshoes, albeit tiny ones, sized for her.

"I was curious about your chest. It feels different from other parts of you."

Skielstergar sighs once more, and slowly bobs his head. "Yesss..."

The question makes him blink, and he looks to the ground. Embarrased. "... um. Thisss... one doesssn't have any scales on their chessst. They cannot grow scalesss back."

Considering his arms, the small bout of patches around his neck, head and legs, it is a wonder they don't regrow. But, considering his affliction, it makes some sense. "... are you wanting to sssee?" he inquires, folding his hands together in front of him.

The Gnome blinks at his question, and she shakes his head. "I was only curious, I know it is hard on you, you don't have to show me anything if you don't wish to. And you don't have to do it now, yes? Maybe another time when you are more comfortable with it, and with me?"

Skielstregar gives a light shrug with one shoulder. "... thisss one doesssn't mind. With kin it isss... more difficult. They are underssstanding, but thiss one cannot feel as if it is a sign of weakness: no scalessss to protect vital parts. Even though it isss a testament of survival. But, another time then."

GAME: Tawyse rolls acrobatics: (20)+2: 22

She nods lightly. "I understand. Your people are proud of your scales. They are a symbol of hardiness. Toughness. Your draconic heritage." As she speaks, Tawyse straps her feet into the snowshoes. "You don't have to feel vulnerable though. I mean, softskins wear hides and even metal to protect themselves. You could wear a metal breastplate under your tunic. It would cover everything that's missing scales, pretty much."

Taw grins brightly then, and runs towards the lean-to and the wall behind it. With a few hops and jumps, she bounds up and over, doing a few flips before she vanishes behind the wall. There's a crunch of snow, before her face briefly appears and vanishes again. "Made it!"

Skielstregar chuffs, smiling some. "That issss why they wear a breassst plate. To cover it."

The man blinks at the display, before he perks up and starts to pick his way through the camp to get out without destroying anything. "Mossst impresssive!" he cheers, a bit more energy in his tone and frame as he exits.

She puffs up a little bit at the praise, and giggles. "The good thing is that as long as I get over the fence, the snow will soften my landing. So if I mess up, I should be okay. If I fail to get over the wall, though, well, that would be embarrassing. I wouldn't mind you laughing though."

The Gnome gestures with her hands, indicating the general direction of travel. "So we just need to get to the trail over there, and then we head up east. There's a good little hill there, have to be careful we don't end up in the creek, though."

Skielstregar looks out in the direction she indicates. "Do not worry, thisss one can be clumsy at timesss, and would laugh it off."

He squints, trying to get a read of the land before he looks down at Tawyse, who only just comes up to his hip. He snorts, deftly scoops her up, and sets the small folk upon his shoulders. "There! Now there will be no worriess if we come acrosss the cold creek. Thisss one may not look it, but they are a sssilverssscale! Proudly so! The cold isss nothing!"

He points forward, grinning, "Onward!"

And he marches.

The Gnome talks non-stop the entire way, as she runs about, apparently full of boundless energy. Her favored trees and rocks, knolls and copses of trees are all pointed out. Many of them bear some mark or sign that indicates them as points of interest.

It is not too long before they stand upon a mound, some ancient hill, clear of trees. One can almost see the tops of some of the trees.

Skielstregar was better a listener than a talker, offering a what little knowledge he had on the local life, though he was fine to be steered about to inspect such points of interest better.

Eventually, they get to the hill, and he doesn't stop, him cutting a fresh trail of disturbed snow on the way up there. "Ssso, how are we doing thisss? Thisss one is unsssure they can slide down it easily unlessss they go belly firssst," he asks.

She jumps up and down, stamping out a small hole in the snow, where she leaves her backpack. "Do you have anything you want to leave up here? Something you don't want to get squished or wet? You can leave it here." With that said, she shrugs. "If you want to go on your belly, then I'll carefully sit on your back."

Skielstregar shakes his head. "Thisss one left their spear at camp, and hasss nothing more on them assside from their clothesss." He grins slightly, kneeling down to clear a small opening in front of him, and so she could clamber on. "Get on thisss one's shouldersss, when they go, you can use their upper back asss a seat."

The Gnome chuckles and carefully crawls onto his back, attempting to keep the pointy ends of the snowshoes from digging into Skiel's back. Ending up on her knees, she grabs at his tunic. "Okay, let's go!", she yells gleefully.

Skielstregar crouches low, getting on all fours, and digs his taloned feet into the ground. "Hold tight!"

At this, he launches forward. See, Skielstregar is a very fast man. And he's got a lot of body to skirt across the snow. Couple that with gravity, and the flat surface, he becomes a sled moving at a worrisome speed.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls acrobatics: (16)+-1: 15

And yet, somehow manages to keep himself level with out ending up tail over teakettle.

The Gnome squeaks and then squeals practically the whole way down. There's some laughter, and a few worried sounding eeeeps, but she remains mostly secured to his back via a deathgrip on his tunic.

Skielstregar is a bit focused on try to not turn this into a tumble, him affording a brief bark of a laugh every now and then. Though, he soon reaches the bottom.

At the same speed. He's a heavy man. Instead of sliding out to a smooth finish, the front of the man buries into the snow, slowing down roughly until he comes to a complete stop.

Inspection reveals, after the less than smooth stop, a pair of tarnished bronze legs stick up from the snow, with a large, muscular tail flopped over like a lazy snake.

It twitches in a flick.

The Gnome squeaks once more, before disappearing into the snow, still clinging to his back. There are a few panicked moments as she attempts to squirm free. Skiel can probably feel her progress as she essentially climbs his body, eventually appearing topside on his legs. She snorts then, and climbs free of him, before turning to pull on his feet. "Skiel? Are you okay?"

Skielstregar's legs loosen as they wobble, the gnome moving him barely. Soon the legs plop into the snow. The powder rumbles a bit. Then like a shallow grave, the upper half of the Warrior poofs upwards in a situp. He blinks some of the snow away, but he quickly rears his head back and gives an echoing, bellow of a laugh, closed eyed and grinning madly.

Tawyse begins brushing the rest of the snow from Skiel, starting with his face, and moving downward. A broad smile on her face the whole time. "You just ... woooop! right into the snow." She picks something not-white from his face. "I think this is grass..."

Skielstregar snickers, a low, rumbling sound in his chest that's quite loud. He lets her brush him off, a grin stuck on his face as well. "Thisss one thinksss they may have kissed dirt," he mentions, looking away to spit into the snow. "That wasss fun! If a bit dangerousss!"

She makes a few final brushes across the top of his head, and then hugs him closely. "Can we go again?", Taw wonders, laughing. "It's a perfect night for it."

Skielstregar hugs her back, then stands while holding her as he treks back up the hill. "A couple dozen more times can't hurt," he rumbles happily.

-End Scene-