Logs:Beer By The Sea
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| RL Date: 9 March, 2014 |
| Who: Alida, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin runs into Alida in a seaside tavern, and they play poker and talk beer. |
| Where: Seaside Hold Tavern, Southern Continent |
| When: Day 14, Month 3, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
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| Without her favorite sailor in tow this time, Alida is found sitting at one of the tavern's tables near the back of the joint, finishing up a round of some cheap beer and a casual game of dragon poker with a couple other patrons. Well, she's more slouching, really, and instead of her riding gear, the pale-headed woman is dressed in very plain, rather worked-in holder clothing, her visage a little dusty, as is the hair coiled into a tight bun at the back of her head. "Sorry, Deiter; y'll have ta' work harder at winnin' the boots off my feet..." the rather 'plain' bluie notes around a small smirk to one of the two guys getting up and leaving, the slender dock-worker giving 'lida a sour look before moving off. There's a bit of clatter and noise over near the bar, some drunk older guy is apologizing profusely (and drunkenly) to the waitress, trying to dab the beer that's been spilled all over her with the edge of his not-very-clean tunic. She's just trying to extricate herself from the mess, increasingly unhappily, and finally manages to break free. The drunken man stumbles a bit, accidentally knocking into Deiter's shoulder with his own. "Suh-sorry," he slurs, without even focusing on the man, stumbling past him and into the vacated seat next to Alida. "Poker, huh? Not my game but... more beer, miss," he's calling gleefully towards the waitress. He's immediately familiar, from the glimmer of amused pale eyes and the twitch of knowing lips, R'hin might well not be as drunk as he's made himself out to be. Deiter gives the 'drunk' an irritated glower but nothing more as he and his buddy pace out of the joint a quarter-mark lighter between them, but Alida can't help but noticing the contact between the two, her scoping green eyes immediately making out R'hin within those less-than-appealing clothes he's clad himself in. Recognized, the man is allowed to join her at the table without protest - the bluerider's demeanor remaining almost stoic, though something in her green gaze both dances and focuses - the bronzer's lip twitch answered with a dry, "I gotta' no puking clause in my game contract, holder." A faint lift of one brow might almost challenge him, somehow. "I make no promises I might not be able to keep, darling," R'hin's drawling. The waitress from earlier -- still looking less than pleased that the front of her uniform is damp -- is somewhat less irritated when the drunk bronzerider leans in towards her to press a handful of coins that's far above what should be paid -- even with the new pitcher of beer and the spilled one. "Count that for me, darlin'? I'm not so good with the coins." With a dart of glance towards Alida, the waitress beams. "That's right," and turns to go, taking the attempted swipe of the drunk's hand at her ass in stride, given the extra coin involved. "You pour, my hand aint so steady," the holder says as his pale eyes swing back towards Alida. "Aincher' 'darlin'..." Alida notes just as dryly to 'holder' guy, her nose wrinkling just a fraction as she toys with her cards atop the table. With the arrival of the waitress and the beer comes a fractional bit of a smirk, then a roll of eyes as R'hin goes for the grope, a puff of a sigh following as the blonde does indeed pour for the two of them. Without much lip movement at all as she leans in towards the table comes the bluerider's low murmur for her tablemate, "And just what might an upstanding guy like you be doin' incognito?" Smirkie. More aloud: "What's yer game, toots? Five 'r seven card? Low stakes, I'll warn ya." The second she's poured R'hin's lifting the glass to his lips and gulping down a generous amount, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after. With an abrupt slap of hand against the table, he leans in to hiss: "Watch who you're insulting with that talk of being upstanding." His ferociousness might well be abated by the brief, sardonic tug of lips at that last word. With a snort, as if the question needn't even be asked, "Seven, of course." "Easy there, sot..." Alida replies with a pat of one hand to holder's hiss and slap, one side of her mouth still quirked into a strange little ghost of a smirk. "Have it yer way." She figured he wouldn't give up his reasons for being so dressed - like *she'd* not reveal her own - and so the bluie tries another tack as her hand first lifts the cheap swill they're drinking to lips for a draught, then moves with its twin to start shuffling those cards. "Nothin' wild, nothin' fancy..." is noted in crisp, hard-accented alto, more softer puffs of words emerging from quieted lips for R'hin. "You c'n just imagine how curious a gal like me is, right now..." A guard like her. A noise like a stilted huff of breath comes from the Wingleader. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here for the beer, and the--" he glances over at the waitress with an excessive leer, "--view. And with how much beer I've had," speaking of which, another few gulps go down R'hin's throat fairly smoothly, "I don't exactly think I'm gonna be winning big tonight. C'mon now. I've seen three fingered dealers faster than you." He taps the table, his gaze dropping towards the cards. She remains relaxed, casual while shuffling, Alida perhaps even slowing down her motions some with the 'holder's' remonstrances, a small sigh and shake of her dusty, pale head offered to her tablemate at his continued avoidance of answering her. Almost under the bluerider's breath: "Seen eight Turn olds more convincin' than you." Smirk. Finally, those capable, yet well-shaped hands of hers flick out cards to both of them: seven each, the main deck then set down. "Thin pickins' at home, I guess." "I dunno. Eight Turn olds can be pretty fuckin' stubborn," R'hin says fervently, like he's speaking from experience. It's only once she's dealt the cards that he settles in fully, sliding his cards off the table and studying them with an intent sort of frown that one might expect from the slow deliberation of the drunk. In between each deal of the cards he dutifully bets the absolute minimum, playing it particular safe and extremely boringly, like he wants her to win. "Mm?" her latter comment earns a quizzical look. "No shit..." Alida ripostes quietly, a wry little gleam lighting her eyes for a few moments as she too studies her hand: those cards held close to her. "Cheapskate... 'r are ya' tryin' ta bullshit me..?" is inquired a hint cautiously of the holder at his betting, Alida pushing in her own, matching bit of coin to the center of the table. That 'hmm' of his earns the bronzer a strange little grin and a grab-ass motion, even as 'lida murmurs, "Not enough under-the-table shit at Reaches, anymore? Gotta go lookin' for it, now..." Smirkie. A half formed grin follows another swallow of beer, R'hin throwing his cards down in a sign of defeat. "I would never," he declares, gesturing for her to deal again. A lift of one shoulder forms a not-quite-completed shrug. "You're the one that looks pretty comfortable here. Think that says more about you than me." While waiting for her to deal, he's pouring himself more beer, and -- if she's had enough and possibly even if not -- topping up her glass, too. "Quitter..." is rumbled low in decent humor as he slaps his hand down, Alida collecting the coins, then shuffling in lazy fashion again. Of herself, "I can't help it that people miss my fuckin' sunny face down here." Yeah... her. Sunny. A slightly wizened look is given to her glass being topped off, and the bluie finds herself peering intently into those pale blues of R'hin's as she deals out the cards, asking 'holder' in forthright, cool little voice, "You tryin' ta get me drunk?" It sounds like a chill little prelude to a warning...though green eyes flash with sly mirth. "I prefer to think of myself as an elegant loser." R'hin manages to pull of drunken disdain relatively well -- maybe he's had some practice. "Not trying," he corrects, with a twist of lips. "It's more selfish than that, if I don't find someone to share the pitcher I'll be too drunk to make it home, and I'm far too old to sleep out on the beach anymore. 'sides, they poke you awake with sticks at dawn, and that isn't the most pleasant way to wake." A faint snert emerges from the bluie's nose at R'hin's first comment, the blonde responding back low, "You keep *that* shit up, I might get totally locked inta' the mindset that all bronzers are preening egos on three legs." As for the beer, "Fair 'nough." Frown. "Ain't much worse than sleepin' in the hayloft, havin' a pitchfork in yer face 'cause ya' had ta sleep it off away from the Steward." After some switching of cards and thoughtful betting, the woman lays down a pair of 8's and a pair of Weyrlings (Jacks), her expression bland, eyes examining her tablemate's own gaze. "And you, a tease -- as if you haven't already prejudged me. Besides, I already have my own ego-pricker on hand for such occasions." R'hin's far more casual about the cards; his gaze is flickering over the nearby patrons as she muses over her own hand, and when she reveals them, finally, he makes a faux-disappointed noise. "Got me again. Hang on, I need to drain my extra leg," he tosses the cards negligently face-down onto the table, and pushes to his feet, stumbling out the door. If she's curious enough to sneak a peek, she'll see his cards hold three Weyrleaders. "I never tease. I make promises." Smirk. Of course she'll look at his cards. This isn't a 'real' game they're having, after all, and it's between riders. A small twist of lips and a knowing look touch green eyes, Alida merely scooping up her earnings, then the cards...squaring the latter away atop table. Awaiting that leg draining, the woman begins to build a small building from those cards, the second story of it starting to form if he takes more than a minute. She might well even get to the third story before it becomes obvious the bronzerider is not coming back. There's no sign of him outside, if she looks, and no sense of Leiventh's presence -- not that their ever was, as low-key and guarded as the bronze normally is. Nah... she had a feeling that R'hin was taking off, and when that second story is a quarter completed, Alida simply flicks it down with one finger, gathers up then puts away her cards in a pocket (along with her earnings), and then finishes off two more glasses of beer before ambling off happily towards a concealed Ilicaeth about a couple miles away...sunning in the bay waters. He too is playing it quiet, no hint of his mental self noticeable. Like rider, like dragon, apparently. |
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