Logs:Bugged
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| RL Date: 4 October, 2015 |
| Who: Quinlys, Rategar, Roszadyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rat's on his break. Quinlys has a problem with it. |
| Where: Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 12, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions |
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| It's the afternoon with plenty of work to be done still all around the Weyr - which, begs the question of why a tall, burly stablehand when he looks like a man from the stables is lounging in the galleries. Rategar has one leg up on the seat in front of him and both of his arms hooked behind himself as he leans back and gazes at the sand. He looks to be lost in his thoughts with his eyes squinting like that. Or, he's asleep. There are no weyrlings yet, and yet that doesn't mean there's nothing for Quinlys to do. Having said that, none of those things that need doing especially require the galleries... those eggs aren't her responsibility yet. Perhaps that makes it hypocritical of the bluerider to make her way down the rows towards Rategar, coming to a halt just in the aisle alongside him, one hand on her hip. "Ahem." The sound of footsteps should have been clear enough indication that Rat was no longer alone. He doesn't straighten from his lounge, though, chin lifting a bit as if he's sniffing the air to that sound before saying in a Bitran accent, "Clarise, I've told you one last time that last night was a one-off." He doesn't even look to confirm if he's speaking to a 'Clarise'. "Let's not have this sing and dance again, baby. I know I'm a good time, but sometimes you've got to take a deep breath and let go." He shakes his head to that and coughs once into his hand. "Shells, how much of an ego do you have?" Quinlys can't help herself but be faintly amused by that, even as much as the pint-sized redhead is also irritated: at finding a lounger, at a mistaken identity, at (let's face it) the combined clutch count on those sands. "I'm not your little girlfriend, and I'm not much impressed, either." From the sands, Roszadyth isn't either. "I hear the bigger the ego, the bigger the..." is all Rategar says in return, a grin forming. "Which Clarise, kiss her toes, had managed to find out. You're not Clarise." Evidently, and when Quinlys says the rest, he finally turns to look at her. His study is borderline inappropriate, too. "The women in this Weyr have a clear problem with confident men," he notes aloud, only straightening up enough to gesture for her to sit by him. "Is it because the women are really in charge here? I remember you from the clutching party." "Demonstrably untrue," is Quinlys' quick parry to that first, the other hand drawing to the other hip; she's not interested in sitting, thank you very much. "The women are in charge here, and the only problem we have is with men who don't know their place. Or do their duty." Are those cheeks of hers faintly pink? Perhaps she's remembering her rather drunken enjoyment of the clutching party. "Sounds like you haven't had much experience with men with big egos," Rategar counters right back, angling his head with a look towards the redhead. "Which, if women are running things, is too bad. Good opportunity for me to show up then. Stir the feminine pot up." He's back to lounging now when she doesn't sit, casually looking back towards the clutch as he asks her, "You're going to show me my place, is it? Tell me my duty, Red. Unless you've got a name." "I prefer men who know how to use them," retorts Quinlys, not moving from her position, nor paying much attention to Rategar and his glances. "Shells if I know what you do-- that's not my job-- but the point is: you're not supposed to be lounging in the galleries in the middle of the day, I know that much." Names? She doesn't need names. Laughing distinctively, "Try me, Red," Rat is open to invitation involved in her initial response. Since she brings up the next - him lounging in the galleries - he slowly straightens his posture but doesn't relinquish his leg from where it rests. "I work in the stables," he tells her, supplying the information anyway. "And I'm on break. Do the eggs out there mind that I lounge here, watching them? Or is it that I'm sitting on your bench?" "I don't have a bench. I don't need a bench." Quinlys tosses her hair over her shoulder, looking defiant. "The eggs don't mind much of anything at the moment, but Roszadyth and Niahvth? They do." In fact, she squares her shoulders and adds, "And they're not much happy with you right now." Liar. "Looks like you need a bench," Rat states that firmly. "Towering over me like that. Not that I don't mind the view, but, I don't understand what's wrong with a simple man like me sitting here in the galleries, looking at the clutch and dreaming? Do you enjoy crushing the dreams of simple men that sit on a bench? What's wrong with those queens?" Now he peers over at them, sitting up and looking like he's about to go talk to them himself. "I haven't said a single bad word to their eggs. How do you know, anyway?" He's eyeing her up and down now. "You don't look like a weyrwoman to me." From the sands, Roszadyth is too busy sleeping, LEAVE ME ALONE. "A weyrwoman?" Quinlys tosses her hair again. "I'm not a weyrwoman. Who'd want to be one of them? I'm the goddamn weyrlingmaster, and you need to leave before one of them gets really annoyed." With most, one should be a little concerned once titles are thrown. Rat's brows lift at once, looking suddenly interested. It's like Quinlys' has mentioned she has candy. "A Weyrlingmaster," he echoes, looking and sizing her up anew. "Better a Weyrlingmaster than a weyrwoman, I agree. Tell me, Red," he reverts back to the assigned name, lifting up his leg to prop on the bench as he focuses on her now. "Tell me why they would get annoyed at me sitting here, when they've been perfectly fine with me sitting here for the last ten minutes and I will leave." "Have you never met a new mother before?" counters Quinlys, quick as that, her smile a thin line of not-really-amused. As short as she is, there's nothing truly fearsome in her stance, but she's determined. "Lots of things bug them. And I'm telling you, as my Olly told me, they're bugged." From the sands, The eggs aren't going anywhere, but Roszadyth, who was doing a pretty good job at feigning sleep, abruptly gets up to shuffle some of the eggs around. That one goes here, this one over there, and oh-that pink one, it can sit riiiight where she can watch it, between her forearms. Yes. Then, she settles down again, content. "Olly," is what Rat picks out of that first with a flick of brows. There's silent inquiry there. Still, he looks toward the queens on the sands with open interest, seeming to weigh his options with them and the Weyrlingmaster. "I normally ask for more proof than that," he says, his feet hitting the ground as he slowly gets to his feet to dwarf her. "I admit I don't know the ways of these dragons yet. In time. They don't seem awfully disturbed to me, but what do I know?" It's a smile that follows, hands spreading wide from his body in a gesture of presenting himself before Quinlys as he says, "But you'll get your way, Red. For now. Break's over anyway." Quinlys gestures out towards the sands with one arm: "She's moving them around, isn't she? That's a sure sign of agitation." But Rategar has already announced his intended departure, and the bluerider, triumphant straightens. "Good," she says. "Go. And don't let me catch you bothering them again, do you hear me? You don't scare me." "Like a runner moves his legs," Rat counters on agitation. "Calmly. Don't dragons shriek or something if they're agitated?" As if he would know. He eyes that triumphant look, but the large stablehand has to step pass her to leave - and he pauses right in her space when he does so on her orders. The smile turns forced, just a tad. "Understood. Maybe I'll come bother you instead, Weyrlingmaster. When I have the time." He'll linger there just a breath longer before he slowly continues on his way, only choosing to answer on her last in the belated sense: "Sure hope you're not. I intend to be around for a long time." I imagine we'll be seeing each other again." Quinlys merely stares at Rategar, utterly dismissive. (Mostly.) |
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Comments
Alida (20:03, 4 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Hehehehehehe!
Faryn (20:06, 4 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
I hope you know this scene was extremely distracting to +watch, and also RAT IS SUCH A PERFECT ASSHOLE I DESPISE HIM. But I love despising him. It's complicated. ;-;
Rategar (21:55, 5 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
The women in this Weyr are out to get me. ;-;
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