Lost in the Storm Who: Rémy and Tayne When: Anesus 5, late afternoon Where: the main hall, lurking in the shadows
Rémy was in a much better humor than he'd been in the day before, actually even more so due to the dark, lowering skies and the thunderstorm that had been raging outside since the wee hours of the morning. He loved days when he could walk around above basement level as soon as he woke up and not have to wait for sunset.
After he and Elanna had parted company the previous day, he'd lurked miserably around in any dark corner he could find until he'd discovered that someone had set up a rope to allow access to the basement. Rémy had gratefully taken advantage of that and escaped to his room, not caring about the holes in the walls. If anyone looked through, he'd chuck a shoe at them as hard as he could. Maybe more than one shoe if it happened to be Churat. He'd languished beneath his covers, scratching and fuming and mentally cursing the quirk of fate that had given him such heinous allergies.
By the time night had rolled around again, he'd nearly clawed himself raw. The Vrykola had crept out of his room around 1 a.m. and had discovered the stairs back in place; he'd slipped up to the washroom for a bath with some herbs to soothe his skin. He hadn't looked much better after, but he'd felt better. After hitting up someone who owed him a favor for a nip of blood, he'd gone back to bed and slept until afternoon. Upon waking, Rémy had gone immediately to the mirror and was relieved to find that his allergy-related weals were gone. One side of his neck bore a long row of still-reddened scratch marks from his nails, but he figured those could be mistaken for, well... something else, so he'd decided not to concern himself with them.
Rémy had been down in the main hall for a while now, lurking in the doorway to the storeroom that opened out into the hall, his eyes fixed across the way at the nearest window. He had a fascination with daytime that he would not have admitted to anyone, quite possibly because it was forbidden to him in normal circumstances. There wasn't much light in the sky, but what there was he watched avidly, not really noticing anything or anyone around him. Not that there was much going on this time of day; the hall was nearly deserted. Rain lashed down, thunder rumbled, and the Vrykola smiled very faintly, enjoying both the spectacle and the dim, firelit ambience of the main hall.
Tayne actually happened to need something out of that store room Remy was loitering in, specifically some rags, soap, and a bucket so he could get to work on his one day's worth of the worst chore on the roster: washroom cleaning. He'd taken it because there had been a hole to fill, and because he didn't... really mind doing it. Not really. It could be worse, right?
He spotty Remy before Remy spotted him, it seemed, the Vrykola caught up in the lightning and thunder displayed through the Main Hall's open curtains. Tayne would really rather have avoided the younger compound-dweller, but he actually did need inside there, and Remy was standing right in the way.
"Good afternoon, Remy," he said politely as he approached, to let him know he was there. With all the sounds of rain and thunder, he could well have missed him entirely, after all.
Rémy, indeed, had not heard Tayne approaching. He was lost in thought, halfway wishing he could go outside to feel the torrential rain on his skin, his fresh clothing and neatly combed hair be damned. When he became aware of the human, a mere couple of seconds before Tayne spoke, he turned jade-green eyes in his direction and smirked. "Tayne," he greeted, his tone expansive. "How's my favorite head of compound this fine afternoon?" His words completely lacked hostility, and if there was a touch of mocking beneath them, well, that was just Rémy.
He knew that Tayne didn't like him, nor did he particularly like Tayne. The older man was too earnest, too staid, too stick-up-the-arse. He was great fun to tease, however, and Rémy certainly wouldn't have turned his nose up had the other man seen fit to offer him blood, as he did for some of the Vrykolas. Rémy was still standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and one shoulder against the stone; he didn't move as he regarded Tayne. He knew there had to be some reason the guy was talking to him, though he didn't know what it was. Couldn't be for the pleasure of his company.
The Vrykola deliberately didn't say anything else, just stared with that faint smile on his lips as he waited to see what Tayne would say next.
"Doing all right," Tayne said evenly, though his faint sparking of temper made him want to comment on the "favorite head of compound" comment. He was the only head of compound, so of course he'd have to be Remy's favorite-- that was no kind of compliment. If he could keep his cool with Svathe, though, he could keep it with Remy. Even though Svathe just had arrogance, and didn't go out of his way to be annoying....
Shaking that aside, Tayne paused outside the store room-- in front of Remy. He had to at least attempt conversation before just demanding he move out of the way. He was head of compound; he wasn't supposed to have biases or people he treated differently than others-- right? "Enjoying the storm, I take it?"
Arrogant and annoying were both qualities Rémy projected extremely well. Looking at the Vrykola's innocent expression, though, the casual observer wouldn't have known that he was anything but sincere. Of course, Tayne knew Rémy too well for that, but it was fun to pretend, to see how far he could push. It was even better now that Tayne was the head of the compound. He had to at least attempt to be civil. Rémy maintained eye contact and silence for several more seconds, dragging out his answer to Tayne's question as long as possible. "Yes, it's lovely," he said finally. "Nothing like a storm to put one in a certain mood." His expression was bland as he lifted one shoulder in a leisurely shrug, wondering how long it would take the human to lose it and demand he get out of the way.
"And what kind of mood is that?" Tayne asked, not quite managing to keep the dry, almost sarcastic tone out of his voice. Winds, he was not doing so well already, and they'd exchanged, what, ten words? Maybe? But he could tell Remy knew exactly what he wanted, and was loitering now on purpose, just to bother him. Just to irritate him. Just to get that rise out of him.
Too bad knowing that didn't keep him from getting annoyed, just like Remy probably wanted.
Mmm. He'd touched a nerve somehow, hadn't he? Rémy could not help but be pleased by that, though he did his best not to show it. He continued to look wide-eyed, then darted his gaze to the stone floor as if Tayne had hurt his feelings.... but somehow, manfully, he'd manage to get over it. The Vrykola had gotten the idea that Tayne wanted into the storage closet, and he was indeed amused by this little game and how it would play out.
"Restless," he said in answer to the human's question. "Energized. You don't enjoy storms?" Very slowly he pulled his gaze up to Tayne's again, still propped in the doorway, so casual, seemingly comfortable. His expression was tranquil, but something stirred just beneath, like clouds passing across an otherwise clear sky.
Oh, hells, no. Remy was not hurt. If anyone had ever hurt his feelings before, Tayne didn't know of it, but he sincerely doubted it. "Actually, I much prefer sun," he said tersely, but not quite rudely. It was true: he didn't like rain. He had issues with too much water, and this much water was definitely too much. Sun was warm, and friendly, and you could see by it-- rain was just murky and cold and forbidding. "You know, you could probably get a better view from the solar," he suggested. And get the hell out of my way, you annoying little bastard.
"Of course you do," Rémy said, not terribly surprised. He and Tayne were so very opposite in many ways; of course the other man would prefer sun to shadow. He didn't think that the fact that he was a Vrykola had anything to do with his preference for darkness, either. In some ways, though, he thought that he and Tayne might share a similarity or two, and that was likely what kept him coming around to be a thorn in the compound head's side. He sighed and tipped his head down for a few seconds, a move that sent shiny dark hair sliding over his forehead. A faint smirk tugged at his lips before he looked up again. "I'm sure I could," he agreed. Complacent, almost cheerful. "But then I'd lose out on the chance to talk to you."
There was a fine line between sincerity and smarminess, and Rémy just missed overstepping it. It was a balance he'd spent years practicing.
It took a lot of effort not to bristle defensively. Everyone knew that Remy would flirt with anyone, regardless of gender. It scandalized the bulk of the Vrykolas, fascinated the Lykos-- not that Remy wanted that, Tayne was sure-- and irritated the humans. Or, well, it irritated Tayne. Because Tayne was the only one, as far as he could tell, who might want to take such things seriously. It was practically offensive to be flirted with by a man, and not just because society said so-- it was like mocking Tayne on a much, much more personal level than anything else Remy did.
The fact that Remy had no idea how he really felt-- or so he figured-- didn't matter. It still made him angry. "Seeing as all you do when you talk to me, Remy," he said shortly, "is make a point to irri-- anger me, I think we can both do without that. Go to the solar if you want to watch the storm. At least make no pretense about why you are still standing here talking to me."
What Rémy felt was often misunderstood about him was that he was capable of practicing restraint. Yes, he flirted, but he could be careful about whom he engaged, when and where. He certainly wasn't mocking Tayne by doing so; he was actually more intrigued by the guy because he seemed to dislike him so much in his stilted, restrained fashion. He didn't care about being a pariah, if indeed he was one. Fortunately for him, Rémy had enough self-esteem to make up for any lack of approval from others.
"You're easily angered, Tayne," the Vrykola said. He kept his voice very low, not wanting to draw attention from anyone else who might be in the Main Hall. "You should work on that. Head of compound and all." His tone was silky, his eyes oddly serious. "I don't want to go to the Solar. Or was that an order?" He'd love it if Tayne tried to order him about, though he didn't think the older man had it in him. Pity.
"If you want me to move, just say."
Whether it was true or not, it was still what Tayne thought, how he felt, what he assumed about the whole situation. After all, it was hard to mock someone about something you didn't know about? And Tayne was quite sure Remy didn't know about him. Really, it was possible that he was a tad touchy about such things... just a tad... not that he would ever admit it.
He had descended into glaring, now, despite all efforts not to, but he told himself he would not actually hit him. Winds, he wanted to, though. "I would think," he said slowly and carefully, trying not to bite out each word or, worse, to stumble on any, "that it would be obvious that I need in there. You are blocking the door. Yes, I would like you to move. Please."
Rémy was a bit on the twisted side, and he'd readily admit that, just as much as he'd have to admit that he really got a kick out of getting Tayne all angry and flustered. He couldn't help it. He'd been here for two years and somehow it had never lost its charm. Rémy craved attention, most particularly from those who disliked him. Positive, negative, whichever. Being hit wouldn't have bothered him much; it would have thrilled him to make Tayne lose control enough to take a swing at him.
Tayne's glare didn't go with his careful and deliberate words, and the Vrykola took note of that. He watched the other man's eyes attentively, casually straightening his posture and beginning the process of pushing himself away from the stone frame of the storeroom door. When Tayne said please, he actually smiled, an expression that was not snarky or smug but almost warm considering the source. "Very well," he said, flexing one shoulder and then the other in a stretch as he stepped out of the doorway and then propped himself against the wall right next to it. "Have at it." Lazily, his dark eyes turned toward the distant window and the storm again.
"Thank you!" Tayne said with exasperated relief, and stalked in past Remy irritably. Of course, the vrykola had to act all polite about it, friendly, when Tayne was sure he was still being mocked. If he hadn't riled him up on purpose, Remy would certainly have been offended by the glare, or at least distracted, but no, he'd acted as if Tayne were the one being unreasonable and he the one being rational and forgiving.
Well, maybe he had a point, but Tayne wasn't willing to consider that just then. Maybe later when he wasn't so cursed angry. The human stopped once inside and looked around. And couldn't remember what the hells he had come in here for. "Winds take it," he muttered unhappily, trying to think back to what he'd been doing before he'd run into irritating Remy.
"You're quite welcome," Rémy said dryly, not bothering to raise his voice so Tayne could hear him. The human wasn't listening anyway. Rémy could practically smell his anger, and he found it interesting, if a bit out of proportion to the situation. Of course, he could be underestimating just how irritating Tayne found him. Wouldn't be the first time that had happened to him in dealing with others. Not that he really cared. The sky outside darkened even further as black clouds lowered, making the Hall with its crackling fire in the fireplace look even more shadowy and mysterious, and the Vrykola's expression was rapt.
Gradually, though, he realized that Tayne had not emerged from the storeroom. What on Trivald is he doing in there? The thought brought a faint smirk to his face before his expression smoothed out to a more serious one. He glanced around the Hall, which was still mostly empty-- there was one person across the large room next to one of the windows, but that was all-- and then silently turned and eased back into the doorway of the storeroom, this time turned to face inward so he could see what Tayne was up to. Nothing, it seemed, but standing there with his back to Rémy.
Tayne really kind of wanted to throw something. The combination of rain, responsibility, and Remy compiled with forgetting what in the Center he'd come here and gone through all that irritation for just ruined what was left of his temper. So he stood there for a long, silent moment, just counting breaths, forcing them to be even and calm, and waiting for the anger to dissipate. It always did; it would again. He might have a temper, but at least he acknowledged that and was quick enough to disengage when he felt it rearing its ugly head, to back off and wait for himself to calm down and think rationally again.
So he finally turned around-- only to find Remy staring at him. He had to pause again, take another slow breath, and check his temper's leash before he asked blandly, "Can I help you?" Winds, this was embarrassing.
"Probably not, alas," Rémy said, his voice just as mild as Tayne's was. The only ways he could possibly help Rémy he'd not be interested in, so there was no point. Any urge to incite further ire in the compound head had faded away; the Vrykola was in too much of a mellow mood to want to snipe anymore. Being able to walk around freely in the daytime always made him chipper.
His half-smile was reasonably conciliatory as he said, "You can't blame a guy for being curious." The faintest shrug of a shoulder. "I was just wondering if you'd become lost in here." The words were light, the tone casual enough not to anger even the prickly Tayne. He didn't think. The Vrykola had switched to his own version of charm, albeit a more subtle one than he might generally employ.
"Hard to get lost in a room with no way to lose the door," Tayne grumbled, but he was starting to let the anger go. Starting. Now he was just embarrassed, which wasn't really conducive to not being angry, but it was largely directed at himself, so at least Remy wasn't getting the brunt of it this time.
He sighed in frustration, looking around and running a hand through his hair, his habitual "I'm trying to think" gesture. He finally admitted, half irritably and half sheepishly, "I've just completely forgotten what I was comin' in here for, is all." And if Remy laughed, he might have to take back his decision not to hit him.
Okay, not really, but he'd relish the mental image of doing so.
Rémy didn't laugh. It wasn't that he wasn't tempted to, but it was quite a novelty for him to have a reasonably civilized conversation with Tayne. Usually what happened was that one or the other of them-- usually Tayne-- got angry and huffed away, or they sniped at one another in their own inimitable fashion until they were sick of the sight of each other. Well... Tayne was generally always sick of him, the Vrykola thought wryly. He had that effect on a lot of the compound dwellers.
"You were on your way to do something terribly industrious and you stopped in here to pick something up," Rémy suggested. That was a fair guess, because Tayne was quite the little helper. The only person he'd seen who was more so was Kierban. Hmm, he should check in with the shy blond, he thought. He hadn't taunted, no, spoken to him in a while. Anyway, moving along. "Where were you headed?"
The moons were going to turn to blood at any moment, because Rémy was being helpful or, at least, attempting to. Imagine that.
Tayne thought that, too: that there was some strange miracle going on. Either that, or Remy was mocking him again, in some subtle way. He eyed Remy suspiciously, but he did say, "I was off to-- Winds, I don't remember. It was something unpleasant." Which was why he'd put it off this long. He just couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. Going outside to check on the current herders? No, no reason to come to the store room.... A chore?
"Oh." He made a face, remembering now. "Bucket and rags. It's my day to clean the privies."
Rémy's nose wrinkled as Tayne finally revealed his mission. The privies, of course. Rémy had managed to avoid privy duty thus far. Vrykolas did not eliminate in the sense that the other species did, so naturally he didn't think he should ever have to clean the privies. He did his chores, because everyone had chores, but he felt that onerous one was best left to others. He visited the washroom to bathe, and that was it.
"Well, there we have it," he said. "Mystery solved." He smiled beatifically and, being Rémy, couldn't resist one last good-natured jab: "Be sure to wash up well when you're done. It's quite foul in there sometimes."
"Oh, shut it," Tayne grumbled, and went to get said bucket and rags, and plenty of soap-- because yes, it did get a bit foul in there sometimes. Bloody annoying Remy with his pointedly stating the obvious... and smiling about it like that. Hmph. At least with his chore remembered he could move on and leave the Vrykola to his storm-watching.
"You're spectacularly ungrateful for my help," Rémy sniffed, but he was too mellowed-out to have the energy to pretend he was offended. He was smirking lazily, an expression that showcased his dimples, and he stepped out of the doorway and braced himself against the stone wall again, exactly where he'd been when Tayne had gone inside the storeroom. What a nice afternoon this was turning out to be, he thought, his eyes taking on their former dreamy cast. So nice.
"Probably because I'm not sure just how s-- honest you were about it," Tayne grumbled from inside, not really intending for him to hear, but, well, Vrykola senses.... He got his things and headed back out again, ready to get to work and, hopefully, forget even running into Remy. Who had actually been helpful, and he wasn't at all sure how to take that, really. That was a part of his snappishness, right there.
Rémy did hear what Tayne said, and it made him smile, though he didn't say anything else. He'd both disconcerted Tayne and made his point, so there was nothing else to be said. He lurked quietly nearby as Tayne left quickly, probably so he wouldn't have to talk to him again. Once the compound head had vanished from sight, his smile faded, and he exhaled a soft sigh, returning his attention to the storm. That would keep him enthralled until either it ended or night fell, most likely.