Logs:Big Decisions
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| RL Date: 7 September, 2015 |
| Who: Everett, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Everett has Big Plans for the future, and Yesia's the first to know. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 10, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Bristia/Mentions, Faryn/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Miellene/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Just realized this never got posted! Feel free to edit! |
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| Everybody's settling back into normal routines, now. At least there aren't any more golds to rise, right? It's relatively early in the evening, yet, and nice enough for the patio to be a viable option for at least a few people. Among them, Everett, off at a table as far as possible from the bar entrance, with a drink and no company whatsoever. This is evidently his idea of a night off. He doesn't usually look quite this broody when behind the bar, but tonight nobody's paying him for smiles. He's got his deck of cards, but whatever he's doing with them, it's not solitaire; he keeps collecting them back up and re-shuffling, then dealing another hand. Greenriders have an odd way of banding together in public, specifically when they're drinking. They're more alluring that way, or something. Either way, there's a group of four of them now, all with Snowdrift patches and greenrider knots, and they're laughing their way out of the Snowasis with a pitcher and several glasses distributed evenly among them. The suggestion is that more people are coming, and they're the advance scouts. One of them is male, blond and blue-eyed and pretty, with Yesia piggy-backing and holding a glass in each hand as they traipse around looking for a place that they can shove tables together. "There, there!" And that sweep will bring them close to Everett, to shove tables together, while Yesia and her companion disengage carefully, so nothing is spilled or broken. With them rearranging the tables, Everett scoops his cards up, and his glass, makes to get out of the way. It's slightly inattentive--enough that one of Yesia's wingmates gets a longer look than she actually does, as he's moving. But she's the one who drags his eyes back. "Yesia!" Cards back in the pocket. "Hey, I--" The blond fellow is suddenly getting a longer look, just for a moment, but he sets the distraction aside. "Are you busy? I'd hate to take you away from your friends." No, he wouldn't. That is the worst lie in the history of ever. "Go away," Yesia is laughing, but not at Everett. It's the blonde guy, who's grabbed her up and is, ostensibly, trying to tickle her until someone calls her name. She stops her batting, the humour lingering in short giggles, and stacks her glasses to hand them to her companion. "Sto-ooop," she insists as he tries to poke her one more time, but then he tips Everett a cheerful little two-fingered salute and makes his way to help rearrange the tables. Yesia tucks her hair, which has flown away, behind her ears and straightens her jacket. "We're just hanging out," she says, waving off his explanation. "What do you need?" Everett is all smiles for Yesia's friend, there. No, not all. Half smiles. Smiling mouth, eyes like knives. But the look never touches his tone of voice. "You, that's all. You look like you're having a nice time, is all, and I'd hate to interrupt a nice time." Which does not stop him from putting a hand on her shoulder. It's just affectionate. It's not possessive. It's only a little possessive. "But I've missed you, last couple days. Is it so wrong for me to want to steal a couple minutes now--and maybe some more, later?" Yesia's wingmate is all smiles back, with a look at her to confirm she's fine. And she is. Just fine. Everett's harmless. "Me? Well, no, I guess not. But it's been so busy," and it has, because it didn't take long for them to get the wings back on track with business as usual. "Miellene is acting weyrleader now. I don't usually care so much about wing stuff, and sweeps, but we have to take care of things, for her. She's nice. Probably better than H'vier's wing would have been." Her smile flickers very briefly at the hand - the nature of it more than its presence - and then it's back to full wattage. "We are going to have fun. You could probably join us." Something, there, the invitation, that's where Everett starts to noticeably relax. The smile comes easier, then, and the hand on her shoulder becomes a squeeze that is much gentler. "If I'm going to go volunteering, when there are eggs on the sands, it couldn't hurt to do a little shadowing of dragonriders, learn all of your ways, right?" He knocks back the rest of his current drink. "If your friends don't mind a shadow." Harmless! Mostly. "Otherwise, we can hook up later." And this time, it could actually be believed that he wouldn't be terribly upset by the delay. The offer's been made; his ego's somewhat shored up. "You're going to volunteer?" Yesia sounds surprised and delighted, pretty eyes going wide with it. "When? Who are you going to ask?" This seems more important than even figuring out if he's welcome with her group of friends, who are indeed eyeballing Everett with somewhat critical looks as they begin filling their glasses. She's not entirely a fool though; that what Everett wants is her company must be plain, and certainly her companions see that too. The blonde is still watching her with a hint of protectiveness. "Are you okay? You seem...." Off, maybe, would suffice, but she just lets it all dangle there unfinished, where he can pick whatever he wants to finish it. "Do you want to sit over there? We can talk." There in this case is a free niche in the wall for two, close enough that she won't be abandoning her friends but far enough for privacy. "That... would be good. Just for a minute? Anyway, I'm thinking about it," Everett says as he's on his way over to grab a seat, there. "I don't know, yet. I've got a pretty good deal, here, you know?" A gesture in the direction of the Snowasis. Not just here as in High Reaches. "It's tempting, but it's a little hard to figure out when I don't actually know that many riders very well. Not entirely kidding, that I'd like to get to know your friends. I guess this is why Candidates tend to be so young. You get your whole life together and then you think, am I willing to set it all aside for this?" Was he supposed to want to talk to her about something else? Maybe he's forgotten. "I'm nineteen, now, it would have been different a few years ago." Elderly man that he is. "Plus, I'm not sure about the company. I ran into your weyrlingmaster the other day, and I know everyone was a bit out of sorts, but she said some really awful things." Yesia is not entirely relieved, that he accepts her invitation but she smiles still, and even links her arm with his on the way there, however brief the jaunt. She sits on the other side of the nook, nodding in attentive understanding, even if, "I wasn't doing anything before. I suppose I should have joined the craft or something, or gotten married..." Sly, that smile, for secret jokes. "You can always go back, though. If there isn't a dragon that wants you. That baker boy did it. And the girl from the beastcraft who always smelled like shit. Do you really like it that much, more than..." she waves her hand when she can't find the word. Her nose wrinkles delicately at mention of the weyrlingmaster and she tosses her curls. "Quinlys," matter-of-factly, "is just an unpleasant person. But so are a lot of people, with or without dragons. K'del is nice," but also the weyrleader, "And Telavi and Bristia," with a wistful and envious little sigh. "Even Jo is alright, I guess. Bad people are just bad people, and good are good." "I don't know, they might have filled my job well before the Hatching," Everett points out. "And, anyway, that's only if I didn't. What if I did? Dragon's not a great asset behind a bar." But it's a light sort of lament--not serious, certainly. He's gotten her aside, he's won, all is a little more right with the world than it was a few minutes ago. "I just don't get why... I was looking for you, you know? The morning Roszadyth rose. Quinlys asked who I was looking for. She made some very unpleasant comments. Are you upset?" No pause between the two thoughts, which suggests the relation between them. "I mean, not at her. Don't care about her." This, not as light. "There's always bartenders. You taught me, even, it's not --" Hard, she doesn't say. Instead, she decides with complete certainty, "If a dragon is there, you'd be happier than a bar could ever, ever make you. Aeaeth is better than anything, anybody in the world." Yesia squints at him, her smile faltering before stabilizing on a bitter note. "Upset? Quinlys is a bitch. She's been like that from the beginning. I don't care what she thinks anymore." But more importantly, and a little patronizing even if she might not be trying for it, "Did you? You shouldn't have. Aeaeth and I had visitors." "I'm glad to hear it's just a petty thing. I'll know to avoid her in future--so much as I might, anyway." Everett is already shifting as though he intends to stand. "I managed all right, don't you worry. I think... I have some thinking to do and I might have an easier time doing it if I have a walk. But you, you should have fun with your friends. Maybe I'll see you later, huh?" Again, surprise. Yesia's head tilts off to the side like a bird's. "Yeah? Okay. If...are you sure you're alright?" It barely matters; there's no break between that and her, "Okay. Have a nice...think? I'm sure I'll see you." His smile is big, genuine, radiant, for just a moment, as he gets up. "I'm sure," Everett says, ducking in to press his lips to her cheek, given the opportunity, then he helps her up before shifting away. "A lot of big things going on right now. Big decisions. Big everything. I shouldn't have worried, because you're perfect, aren't you? Have fun. Come find me when you want me." If he can get in a quick grope of her rear end as he lets her go, all the better. If nothing else, Everett has gotten Yesia's oft-fickle attention now. And of course he's leaving, in a flurry of activity that doesn't do anything to lessen her bewilderment. He lands a peck on her cheek because she's still trying to process, and now her expression is bordering on vapid while she tries to catch up to all these non-sequiturs, at least until he compliments her. "Well, yes," she manages for that, out of habit, and then a little squeak for his hand as he grabs. "Maybe tomorrow," isn't a promise, exactly, but it is what she'll leave him with as she moves back to the table, where a brown and bluerider have joined the group with another pitcher. She slides between one of them and her blonde greenrider, who immediately puts an arm around her shoulder, and the conversation briefly consists of her waving off murmured concerns and taking up her own glass. It's not long before she's relaxed again, in a different way, and laughing as the evening carries on. |
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