Logs:Blue Moon Over Snowasis
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| RL Date: 17 January, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Taikrin, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo decides to see why the Snowasis is such a big deal. Leave it to wingmates Taikrin and Azaylia to explain. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 10, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
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| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern. It could very well be a blue moon out in the evening sky, for the Snowasis has a visitor. Jo pauses on the threshold, looking in at the crowd that already fills the place with laughter and loud banter. Her Glacier wingriders frequent the place after sweeps, but she was always the one that suddenly went ghost on them when the time came. Tonight, this particular blue-riding ghost was making a cameo appearance. Once her eyes adjusted to the lighting, she steps in with black leathers and all and trying her best to at least not looking menacing. A few looks go her way as she's slow to make her way towards the counter, furtive glances going every which way until she reaches a vacated stool and claims it. Since no one accosts her, and she manages to get to the counter unscathed, she lifts two fingers to flag down the bartender to order her something strong. The usual suspects are dicing in the corner-- Taikrin and a trio of blue- and green-riding wingmates. They're being relatively quiet about it, for them: only the occasional shout and buffet as the tides of luck come and go. Eventually there's a lull in the action (or maybe they've just all run out of beer), and it's Taikrin who's nominated to head to the bar for more. It takes her a moment to recognize Jo, for all that she's bellied right up next to her as she intercepts the bartender to order the next round. And then she offers up a broad smirk and a friendly-enough, "Hey, hey. Look what the watchwher dragged in. Come to play a set?" The goldrider may not be a permanent fixture at the Snowasis, but Azaylia's arrival is nowhere near as noteworthy as Jo's. It may be why she's able to navigate the crowds without being stopped, bar overlooked at the sound of wingmate's gambling. She may not look the part of a stereotypical Glacier rider, in a pretty dress that's deeply blue. That doesn't stop her from approaching the trio recently abandoned by Taikrin, greetings offered to familiar faces and open curiosity for the dice. It's not that she's necessarily shooed away, but closer inspection of the cubes does hold up a game. With a wingmate's gruff suggestion in mind, she takes purposeful steps towards Taikrin, "Hi." Cheerful, "They want to know what's taking so long. Hi, Jo!" Painfully cheerful. The familiar gait and form of Taikrin comes up and grabs Jo's attention. She drops her order along with a mark piece on the counter as the barkeep arrives, and then she responds to that broad smirk with a slightly amused one of her own. "I think I made a wrong turn," she notes in return greeting to her, a hand lifting with a brief shrug. I've come to check this place out. Since, ya keep askin'," she adds, a half shrug given to cover up the fact that she is uncomfortable in a new place - for "her". She looks back in time to see Azaylia approaching, the weyrwoman getting an amused study that flows over her before she says, "Nice dress. Come to join, too?" That's when the barkeep returns with her mug, and she collects it up and turns with it in hand, facing the ladies. She jerks her chin towards the table they both came from, adding, "Mind one more?" "Wingmates, ain't we?" Taikrin allows grandly for Jo's benefit, though her wide-armed gesture includes Azaylia. "Always room for more when the betting's good. Or even if you just like to watch." The quirk to Taikrin's eyebrow makes it more innuendo than anything else. "Though now I'm of a mind to stand here and drink all their beers, just for being impatient shardheads. What do you think?" There's a broad grin and even a little wave for the impatient wingmates, who have sinced started up another round of betting while they wait. "Anyways. Having an okay night, both of you?" "Oh, thank you." Azaylia, sounding surprised when receiving a compliment, naturally. "It's old, but nice." She explains to Jo, letting it be known that the quest for something new is still on. While the 'tender is trapped by both Jo and Taikrin, she slides in an order for something warm but spiced. "I like to watch." She offers, perhaps not quite picking up on the innuendo. After laughing at Taikrin's threat, "So far. I'm enjoying the nice weather. It almost feels like winter will never come." One can hope. "That we are," Jo acknowledges Taikrin's first, the drawl accompanied with her regard of the woman. And, that amusement of hers lingers in light of any kind of innuendos thereof as she takes a long drink from her mug, so when Azaylia answers on watching too, "Do ya now? I prefer to take on a more active role, myself." Suggestive? Sure. One who's been around the bluerider would pick up on it. "And, I'd say drink'em," she adds to Taikrin, eyes pointedly looking towards the wingriders at the table. " I see they've started a game without ya. I hope they paid for these already." Taikrin's threat to those at the tables is naturally taken a bit farther with her. She takes to leaning up against the bar, nursing her drink before she answers the question with and breezy, "Night's just begun for me. If I can get back to my weyr without blood or booze on my leathers, then it's a good night. Remains to be seen." She flashes a brief smile at that. "And you?" "Eh, I'm buying but it's with marks I won off of them, so--" Taikrin gives a one-shouldered shrug, unconcerned. "Let 'em play; it'll all be mine sooner or later, so what's the harm?" In the end, as the bartender brings by the four mugs, she sends three to the other table and keeps hers at the bar. "Reckon it ain't a good night if you don't end up with blood or booze on your leathers, yeah?" She laughs at her own joke, eyebrows raised, as she looks to Jo and Azaylia for confirmation. "Better if it's neither one mine." "I'm not very good at... gambling." Azaylia explains to Jo, speech slowing near the end as she finally seems to get it. Oh. Oooh. "That's awful." She verbally shoves at the both of them, embarrassed despite the wide grin on her face. With the delivery of her warm drink the bartender is free to help the other patrons, for now. "Why in the world would you..." Question is aimed at Taikrin, but the answer is so obvious that she gives a little sigh. "I guess I'll never figure out what's so fun about hurting other people." A glance for both of her wingmates, though she certainly isn't judging them. "Sounds like a party, darlin'," Jo drawls to Taikrin's first, lifting and tilting her mug slightly towards them both. "I can't remember the last time I've fleeced someone out of their pants, much less their marks. I keep far too busy these days. If ya need help relieving them of all they've worked hard for..." and it's left as an open invitation, the bluerider clearly starting to warm up to the place the more that liquor goes down her throat. Azaylia's comment on gambling - or rather, the innuendo therein - gets that flash of a smile from her that's brief. "Awfully expected, maybe," she corrects in deadpan banter, the mug going to her lips. As for blood and leathers, she can't help the mutual huff of laughter that lingers, not disputing Taikrin's words. "Well it "does" help me sleep better at night," she'll admit with an expressive sigh. "Can't beat a good toss. It's not so much about the hurtin'," she adds as an aside to Azaylia for her comment. "Throwin' a punch just "feels" good is all. Like takin' a bath." Yeah, she's comparing fighting to bathing. "Gets the blood goin'. Used to spar with Kaitlin in the mornings, but I'm getttin' sick of her mouth. Maybe ya could stop by the shore and spar sometime with me." That, her gaze flicking her way, to Taikrin. "Aw, now, it ain't about the hurting. It's all in good fun, see? Hraedhyth ain't actually hurting anybody when she goes at it with 'em, right? Same thing." Yes. All of those scars Taikrin is so blase about are definitely the same. The moderation appears to be mostly for Azaylia's sake-- she even shoots a quelling look at Jo. Wryly, she adds, "I wish you all the luck if it's your wingmates you think you're gonna be fleecing. What wing d'you think you're in, anyways? Snowdrift?" There's a burst of laughter, which neatly masks her twitch when Jo talks about Kaitlin. Azaylia blows on, then sips at her drink. In her moment of silence, she curls her free hand into a fist and inspects it. When the mug is lowered she gives Jo a look that seems to hint at dubious. "Like a bath." Now sparring, "Oh. Like running in the mornings?" That, she understands. Mention of her lifemate has the goldrider straightening that extra inch taller, "Hraedhyth doesn't make them bleed." And yet the dragon's hide might seem like an homage to Taikrin's complexion. "...often." She breaks down with a sheepish laugh of her own, one that's timed well with the jab at Snowdrift. It could be the twitch if she hasn't missed it, or perhaps Jo's comment that has her asking, "Kaitlin?" "What, afraid that ya'll, or any one of them would lose to "me", is it?" Jo counters back on fleecing and wings, a brow lifting towards Taikrin with ease. She's a cocky sort. "Or is that ya bought those drinks there from fleecin', all in good fun? But ya know me," she adds, a touch wry. "Old habits die hard." Azaylia's comparisons to sparring gets a "Yeah. Like that. Only better." To Taikrin then, "Ya know I had her dragon perched on my ledge one time, all because Tac bit the gold on the stomach. They both were fightin', really." When the next is on Kaitlin, Jo drains her glass and turns to set it down so she could flag the barkeep for a refill. Over her shoulder, "Went through weyrlinghood together. She's a..." a friend? "A necessity." It's vague, and then she doesn't seem to be elaborating on that as she catches the barkeep's attention and gets rewarded with that refill. She turns back towards them, "So. Besides the booze and cards, what all else goes on in here?" "No fleecing, just skill. You don't use loaded dice with your wingmates." On this, at least, Taikrin is adamant-- even if she is smirking about it, just a little. She nurses her beer while Jo explains about Kaitlin, and doesn't seem to have anything in particular to add. Instead, she supplies, "Dice. And the food's alright, I suppose. Mostly just blowing off steam, though. No fighting. They run a clean joint here, yeah?" She's got special emphasis on 'clean', especially when combined with the pointed look she gives Jo. "Good for a free evening after drills, though. Nice and quiet." Azaylia doesn't seemed terribly convinced that fighting, sparring, is better than a good run. She stifles a giggle at Tacuseth's actions and the big, golden price he paid for it with a deeper pull from her mug. "A necessity." The weyrwoman echoes, interest clearly piqued. Deciding not the pry, she looks up at Taikrin only to nod in agreement at the brownrider's answer. "And," She adds, "It's usually a good place to find a guy to... gamble with." The smile on her lips is oddly tilted, embarrassment battling good humor. "Or, girl." With a tilt of her head towards Taikrin. There is what could be a note of frustration, echoed by the cup as she goes in for another sip, "Most of the time." "I can still wipe the floor with skill, too," Jo counters on that first with casual ease. "I'll be a good girl." There's a glint in her eyes as she says it, though the words sound genuine enough. After sending the weyrwoman a little smirk on the matter of Kaitlin, it's Taikrin's answer on the Snowasis that gets her piqued attention. "So bringin' in whips and chains is out of the question, huh?" she quips on the Snowasis being a clean joint, her piercing gaze lingering on Taikrin along with a smile bordering on terse. She's teasing, right? She got the emphasis, at least, loud and clear. "I wouldn't worry, darlin'," she adds, her mug lifting slightly in a toast. "I only like to get rowdy outside the Weyr." She could be joking, but, it's hard to tell. Still, she nods once to all they both say of the place overall, and to Azaylia's humourous addition, "Ya don't say," she muses, taking a brief look around before her dark eyes land back on Azaylia. "Have ya found any guys tonight of interest?" Pause. "Or girls?" She can't help it. One would think the bluerider likes making Azaylia flustered with her words. Looking to Taikrin as she knocks back some of her drink, "What do ya think?" "Can be a good place to find a friend," Taikrin acknowledges readily. "'Specially after a really good flight. Lots of people looking to gamble away their troubles." Beer in hand, she leans back so that she can rest her elbows against the top of the bar and keep a speculative eye on Jo. "What do I think of what? Ain't all that many guys I find interesting around here," she teases. "Reckon I could point you out to a couple women who're usually up for a good time, though." Azaylia takes in a breath and lets it out, either to fortify herself or for patience. Huffy. "No." Not that she sounds particularly happy with her answer, "Tonight, and longer than that." Sometimes a woman has to vent! The tease has her giving a laugh, remnants of a more juvenile humor at picturing herself with a girl. "Noooo." She drawls, perhaps shyly. Waving her hand at the other two, "I'll leave them to... well, both of you. Don't want my blood or drink getting on your leathers." An attempt at a tease, ducking her head for a laugh that's cut short when she drains her mug. Jo considers all their words on the bar, for clearly she's been managing in different ways. "I'll keep all of that in mind," she muses, hooking a thumb into her pants as she hops up on the stool she was partially leaning against. She angles herself to keep both brownrider and weyrwoman in view, the banter of teases getting a more genial Jo than the usual they've probably seen in drills or on sweeps. "Azaylia needs help landin' something male," she teases back, draining her mug. "I think I see a bronzerider over there with yer name all over him. Blonde and chatty. Doesn't look Reachian, though." To Taikrin, "Got some pretty interestin' ones around," she says with a little crooked grin. "One with pretty eyes...ain' afraid of knives...and ones that look one way, and act another. No men at all, Taikrin?" That gets her attention, regarding the brownrider for a moment before Azaylia's tease on girls gets her short laughter. Taikrin's laugh at Azaylia's comment about blood and booze is loudly genuine, though she demures afterwards, "I ain't touching that one with a ten-foot pole." She has to give the indicated bronzerider the evil eye, especially as he's foreign; there's legitimate displeasure there. "Him, you're welcome to fleece to Ista and back again. Don't like his look." As if that wasn't explanatory enough, her answer to Jo is firm. "No men if I can help it. And I can usually help it." She backs it up with a long, long draught of beer as if proving some sort of point. There's more drink left than she's expecting, but Azaylia is determined to finish in one go. When she finally does, she sets it on the table a little harder than she means to. "I don't need help." She stresses. Whether there's more to it or not, she doesn't say, pointing a finger at the chugging Taikrin. "See?" Said with mostly a straight face, "Taikrin doesn't approve. That's that." The laughter is infectious, and the smile eventually breaks free as she giggles softly to herself. "I'm going to see about watching a round of dice." She gives Jo a playfully stern look that isn't very convincing in the first place. With another laugh, she's pushing off of the bar and giving her wingmates a wiggle of her fingers before heading over to the table of blue and greenriders. They might actually get her to give it a try. With Taikrin giving the bronzerider in question the evil eyes, Jo's merely smirking at the man that's quite oblivious to being talked about. "He "does" have a shifty look, doesn' he," she notes right back, nodding slowly as if she was really considering it. "I suppose he's fair game, since our slightly drunk weyrwoman here doesn't seem to approve of him either." Jo tosses a smile in Azaylia's direction, and when she heads off to watches the games and sends her that stern look, her brows merely lift with that annoying smile in place along with a briefly jaunty "Enjoy the watching." Once she was out of earshot, and her empty mug is deposited behind her on the counter, she then addresses Taikrin's words on men with an non-chalant, "I dunno. Most men are assholes, I'll agree, but a few of them that aren't I wouldn't mind. I get it." Stretching and looking around, "Got some time left," she adds, looking her way. "We could play a game or two, and there won't be any loaded dice on my end," she tacks on, wry. "If yer ain' afraid of losin' to me." "She trusts my judgement," Taikrin offers with a cheeky smirk to Jo-- though only after she's sure Azaylia's gone over to join the rest of the wing, who happily make room for her around the table to demonstrate (possibly for not the first time) the finer points of this particular dice game. "'Specially when it comes to the maleriders. Leave it to you to pick the shifty ones." Something in Taikrin's attitude hardens when the weyrwoman leaves, and so there's a faint edge to her smirk as she offers, "Happy to play in a couple of matches; you ain't ever actually been up against me, have you? Don't know as how I recall. Reckon I could teach you a few things-- it's a service I provide to all my wingmates." Isn't she generous. "It's my specialty," Jo is amiable to agree on her picking the shifty ones, cocky in her demeanor. "Must come with being a product of it, myself." Of course, all of this is said out of Azaylia's earshot. The bluerider easily detects the subtle shift in Taikrin's demeanor once the weyrwoman leaves, too, the convict rider drawling back, "She trusts ya. I wonder if that's something cultivated on purpose." Dark eyes make their slide over towards the brownrider beside her, giving her a long look. But then Taikrin's agreeing to play, and Jo's straightening from her stool and gestures for her to proceed to a place where there's a free deck of cards and dice on hand. To those words, "So long as yer willin' to be taught how to lose," comes right back, allowing the brownrider to lead them away from the counter. "Who am I to turn down any offered services?" Who, indeed. "I look after her. All of 'em. Anyways, it's only right to trust your wingmates to have your back. Tightest crew you'll ever have." Taikrin finishes off her drink, one eyebrow raising to emphasize her point. The empty mug is abandoned on the bartop, and the brownrider swipes the back of her hand across her mouth before breaking into another smirk. "Whatever you got to tell yourself to help you sleep. You know how to play 'snake'?" There's a table free next to where the others are playing, and Taikrin's already pulling out a set of dice from her beltpouch. "Feel free to check 'em out-- promise, they're good." "Aren't ya the protector, darlin'," Jo notes to the first, following after her. She goes silent on the matter of trust, the topic a revisit from before. She follows easily to a table and drops into a seat right across from Taikrin, the question getting a brief, "I know the game, and...I don't need to check it. I trust ya." Dark eyes bore into the woman's as she says it, but she doesn't elaborate on anything. Perhaps she really does trust the brownrider, but she's not letting any further questions rise to it. She falls in step to the game once Taikrin's seated, settling to playing a few games as promised before she finally is seen leaving the bar and out into the night. |
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