Logs:Above Board
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| RL Date: 28 June, 2015 |
| Who: W'leri, X'vin |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: New wingleader meets old wingsecond. They acquaint themselves. |
| Where: Dice, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ebeny/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, T'rev/Mentions |
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High up above the lake, a small ledge is barely noticeable, and indeed
most pass by it unawares. It's small enough that a green can comfortably
land, perhaps even a blue, but larger dragons would find it too awkward
and small to do so. Just inside, a pair of men are usually standing with
arms crossed and sharp eyes watching the comings and goings.
The small size of the various rooms that make up the weyr proper has
probably made it unappealing for any to claim as their own - however this
makes it perfect for its new purpose. In each room there's a table and
chairs set up in different configurations - card games here and there,
dice in another room, roulette in yet another. The dealers are dressed in
plain gray outfits, though the security guards that wanders from room to
room (and occasionally come to collect marks) are more casually dressed.
The decor and lighting are dark, intended to make identification of other
patrons more difficult. Evening has properly settled over Fort Weyr and so has the usual crowd that frequents Dice on the average day. Lively chatter fills the converted-weyr, as does the sounds of glass clinking, chips clacking, and cards being shuffled by expert hands. It is no surprise, given his penchant for games of risk, that W'leri fills one of the seats at a three card poker table. He's sitting next to one of his old Flint buddies, a short glass of whiskey in one big hand and a toothy smile breaking through his gravely words as they chat while the dealer shuffles after the last hand. In a charming footnote on the documents that had been (grudgingly) handed to him about configurations, names, strengths, weaknesses and disciplinary action, there was also a small note that was apparently very important to Flint's wing dynamic: their gambling habits. X'vin's certain that it wasn't included by T'rev, or even N'muir, but he appreciates it nevertheless, and it's what sees him to Dice once he's settled himself and Besmernyth has found a perch near the rim of the weyr, the better to watch the goings on below. It's not hard to find them, the people he's told will be under his charge: they're together at a table, one angles himself towards carefully, standing on the edge of them until the hand is complete. "Room for another? Laughter is echoed by each of the men at the table, but only W'leri lifts his eyes from the brownrider driving the conversation, to consider X'vin, lingering as he is at hand. "No one's gonna stop you," he says, magnanimously, his free hand gesturing to the vacant seat; he shifts his whole bulk so his seat creaks under the weight. X'vin takes the seat with a gracious nod, looking at the pair who have continued their conversation and then studying W'leri with not quite curiosity. "I'd hope not," is easy, with a smile as the dealer tosses them cards. It's not until the second card is in hand that he seems to remember, "Faranth, I'm terrible at cards," even though his smile is hard to read, let alone read beyond. "X'vin," he offers as the hands are dealt, and his eyebrow is up, pleasant expectation of a conversation. Sarcasm might be a common mode around the table, but when it comes time for the dealer to pass the cards, it gets much more somber. "Seems to me you walked into the wrong bar," W'leri after flipping up the bottom half of his cards, to peek at their numbers, and then laying them back down. He takes a swig of his whiskey, his eyes flicking to X'vin. "W'leri." He stares for far too long, and then grunts. "I'll be babysitting those weyrlings from now on." X'vin is a contrast to them, because he isn't somber--at least, not entirely. His smile flickers when the last card falls, and he looks at them with a scrutinizing eye and a flicker to his expression that's almost a frown. Terrible at this. W'leri's introduction draws his eyes up, and though he's not openly displeased - his smile is relentless - he is also not happy. His brown knits together, his forehead wrinkling with displeasure. "How unfortunate," sounds like an unkind response, but maybe that's more pity in his voice than anything. "From now on, as in permanently?" Tension crackles around the table: shuffling, scrapping, and fidgeting. "Could be worse," W'leri answers the bronzerider, without looking at him. His hand flattens on his thigh as he eyes the dealer, who is wise not to look the barrel-chested bluerider in the eye. "Nothing's permanent." And that concludes that round, only one of them making any kind of progress. Blowing out an agitated breath, the assistant weyrlingmaster sits up and turns his chin towards X'vin. "Got something on your mind? Might as well get it out." "Not unfortunate for you," X'vin is quick to clarify as he passes his cards back. When the dealer tries to include him this time, he lifts a halting hand. No. "Unfortunate for me. It wasn't in my notes. Now I'm out a wingsecond, and nobody saw fit to tell me." Everyone with the Flint patch takes note of the newcomer's halting hand, and there's a couple passed looks between them. "For you?" W'leri sounds mildly amused, but the bronzerider's second statement has him slouching back, shoulders turned towards X'vin. "N'muir hired a new wingleader? That bastard," he says, his blue eyes remaining amused. "Splitting my time now. Ebeny's got some shit in her head about learning the ropes shadowing." A beat. "Could be convinced to stay," as he lifts his glass, followed by his draining its amber contents. X'vin notes the reaction of the table, and W'leri himself, with an even expression, maybe even pleased. "He did what he thought needed to be done," the bronzerider corrects, without elaborating. "I wouldn't judge him too roughly. I think he knows what he's doing. I have nothing to convince you with, at least compared to the joy and fulfillment of having trained a new generation of riders." He sounds oddly sincere, letting his eyes flick to the others. "There will be some shuffling of the wing anyways, but I'd like to keep the leadership intact as best I can. This is abrupt, I know." "N'muir can handle himself," the bluerider drawls, throwing another chip onto the table, but seemingly otherwise disinterested in the hand; maybe it's his poker face at work. "You talking about Hattie stepping down and Lilah stepping up?" W'leri drags his eyes away from the dealer long enough to pin X'vin with his frosty gaze. "Something I need to know? Or are you going to keep swearing it's all above board?" "Clearly," sounds unimpressed, even from a man as apparently pleasant as X'vin. He watches the next hand, as unobtrusive as he can possibly be in a ritual that he's heard is long-standing among them. He'll participate later, when their fleecing him won't effect his legitimacy. Once he has legitimacy. "That's a part of it," he says, "though not one that has anything to do with me. I was surprised to have Lilah greet me with N'muir, trust me. She's a...fierce woman." It's not without it's satisfaction. Under frost, X'vin is effervescent, easily taking W'leri's regard. "I thought it would be best to meet the those already in the wing, with the influence," he explains. "It's above board, as you say. I've got ties in Fort. They're likely to do the weyr, and this wing, better than T'rev's politics." He scoffs lowly. "I'd like to the heirarchy as intact as possible as we change direction on other fronts." W'leri sets his glass down on the edge of the table and peeks at his cards, but his stony-set face doesn't show his hand beyond a tick of brow, towards the bronzerider. "Guess you could say it like that," he says, mouth slanted in a half-smile. "Redheads got something 'bout 'em. Fiesty. Good fucks." His hand turns over and over, in a continuing gesture; does he really have to explain beyond fuck? "Fort? Fancy that," is droll. "Won't be easy. Not here. Not now. Flint's got history." "Well, yes, but I meant...she'll be interesting to see, as acting weyrwoman." Not, X'vin's eyebrows say, that he would terribly mind finding out how fiesty she is in other roles, but that's for another time. Maybe. "I imagine you'll see what I mean, soon enough, if the weyrlings don't pull you away," he says, and it definitely sounds below board. "History? How so?" Finally, the newcomer has W'leri's full attention, so much so that he doesn't seem to find losing this latest hand and doesn't sign up for the following either. He taps the table with his knuckles, and pockets the rest of his chips, sliding one foot off the rung of the chair onto the floor. "I imagine you'll see soon enough," he repeats, in his slow drawl, what the bronzerider has just fed him. "Want the wing on your time or their time?" "Ideally, I'd like them to manage their own time." It's a progressive stance, one unlikely to go over well, and it's unclear if he's being serious. "In a pinch, it will be on mine," brooks little argument. "I understand that's not something that will come naturally. Which is why I sought my 'second. You." No mention of who might hold the other position; possibly nobody, though T'rev should. W'leri's answer is a slow-growing grin full of teeth and little lip. "Manage their own time," he repeats, and gives a low whistle that draws the stares of his wingmates. "You got fancy notions to go with those fancy ties, too." He slips off the chair then, and rises languidly, reaching for his short glass that's now empty. "Want to get a drink and talk about this. elsewhere?" His demeanor of man-at-ease hasn't changed, but his voice holds a more resolved edge to it than before. "Like I said, it isn't easy. It's just efficient, when people aren't --" he cuts himself off, looking at the other two Flint riders with a carefully schooled expression. X'vin draws to his feet as well, slipping his hands into his jacket pocket. "It would be for the best," he agrees, nodding to the exit. It's easy for him to take the lead out, too, though undoubtedly his lack of familiarity with the area will change that dichotomy quickly. |
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