Logs:Busy Not Making Waves
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| RL Date: 20 August, 2013 |
| Who: Rasavyth, K'zin, Jo, Tacuseth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin wants Jo to see information is passed without putting his hide into jeopardy. |
| Where: Questionably Painted Weyr (K'zin's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 7, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Euan/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Ustelan/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Some questionable humor. Back-dated because RL was being difficult. Many thanks to Jo for being flexible! |
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| « Tacuseth, » Rasavyth's greeting to the blue is casually drawled and touched with his oozy charm. It comes with the flap-flap of the banners familiar to the other dragon's touch. « We've come across something that might be of note to yours and more specifically to the Weyrleader. Have you two time to come by? » It's fairly late in the evening when the invitation is sent, but late night is Jo's time of night, right? So no need for the bronze to feel abashed about the hour, so he doesn't. Simply an invitation for them to come over for a chat. « It shouldn't take long. » He adds after a thoughtful moment. (To Tacuseth from Rasavyth) The touch of Tacuseth's mind hints at him being beyond the Weyr, but it's a flicker of Between later - moments later - before he answers. « Tsanth's is busy, » he sends then, his mindvoice a mixture of preoccupation and weariness. « We can relay a message to him if it's for him. » Bemusement, even, but it does work to get the blue's attention and curiosity. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth) To Tacuseth, Rasavyth demurs at the offer, the ooze becoming less substantial as emphasis of the point. « We don't know the Weyrleader more than to have asked him for a pencil sharpener once. » Not well at all. « It mightn't be the sort of think he'd want to know, and not from us. Our noses may not be where it would be approved for them to be. But we feel sure that your Jo can decide if it's something that ought to find its way to his ear, preferably without our noses or any other parts of our hides finding themselves in danger of punishment. » There is some amusement playing across his tone and a playful image of K'zin thrown over not Z'ian's knee but K'del's, the father figure's hand holding a paddle that's etched backwards with 'Bad Bronzer'. Thankfully, everyone still has pants. Amusement color the shadows of Tacuseth's mind as he sends, « We dunno what he would want to know, or approve of. Mine seems amused, too, that there seems to be many secrets floatin' about lately, » he adds abruptly, especially towards fear of punishment. At the image, « Yers should never fear the paddle, » he adds with Jo's innuendo flare and wryness thrown in, but he does tack on right after it, « What is it that yers have to say? » (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth) To Tacuseth, Rasavyth's amusement is obvious, « Your Jo would know better than we do. » Pencil sharpener, remember? Then, even more amused, « It's not the paddle he feels. It's the wielder. He has daddy issues, but not those kinds of daddy issues. » It's hilarious, isn't it? He thinks so. « Come and find out. I wasn't present to receive the information. Better coming from him. » If dragons could snort, Tacuseth would be snorting, but the blue responds on the next - the wielder - with « Innerestin'. We'll come. » Message must have been relayed, for the blue goes silent - it doesn't take long before his shadowy presence can be felt again, and this time, in much closer proximity. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth) Questionably Painted Weyr, High Reaches Weyr At the back of the weyr the cavern branches into two good-sized back rooms with a double-sided fireplace occupying the wall they share. The weyr even comes already decorated. It has an ornately carved bed and press in both of the rooms; the front area offers a polished rectangular table and six matching chairs, a set-up perfect for entertaining. Rugs are scattered across the floor, their colors bright and cheery to match the walls. But oh, those walls! Some artistic hand has painted mural on every wall, filled with bright colors and bordered by mixed fruits and vegetables. The mildest murals are filled with exuberant scenes of dancing people, but most of them are of a more... questionable nature. They're certainly not the sort of thing any concerned parent would want their children to see, though they give the weyr a definite party atmosphere.
Still in her black leathers, Jo enters into the weyr with no fanfare and a "Just one," for the drink. "Got somewhere I need to be where I have to keep a level head." Dropping into the seat opposite of K'zin with a lazy slouch once she claims her glass, "So. What's this news ya got for me that ya couldn' run-tell Z'ian yerself?" she asks, knocking the whiskey back with barely a wince. K'zin is careful to pour 'just one' for Jo, setting the bottle down and sliding the glass to Jo's claiming hands. "It's about Nabol. It's probably nothing that he doesn't already know, but I gather that no one's keen on the recently graduated bronzeriders going near any of the Holds that tithe to us." Perhaps understandably. But K'zin's not caused shortages... yet. "Just that there's trouble brewing. He probably already knows that more than one of the heirs apparent want Lady Ienavi killed more than found." That's the important part, more conversationally, however, he adds, "Did you know that Ienavi was engaged to the oldest son of the oldest son before Ustelan's wife-at-the-time bit it and there was an opening to trade up?" There's enough interest in his voice that indicates the drama of the Holds holds curiosity for him. Jo drains her glass and audibly sets it down as she leans forward and listens. She's mostly quiet, watching him when he brings up the current stew at Nabol. Once he pauses and she leans back more comfortably with long fingers sliding together over her abdomen, "Nabol seems to be the word of the turn, apparently," in comment, her tone slightly deadpan. "Not sure what he knows or doesn' know about what's goin' down in Nabol. Ain' exactly a topic that comes up between us," and her brows lift and fall briefly to allude to there being far more scandalous things to talk about instead. "And no, I didn' know. Hold politics has always alluded me unless there was profit to be made. I'm takin' it that this Ienavi tradin' up is a problem?" "I'd imagine getting passed over for your aged grandfather kind of smarts." K'zin answers, his tone sounding a little amused. Seems to me that there'd be profit to be made by turning Ienavi in to Rone, if she could be found, or if one were thinking in a more long-term way, by getting Ienavi's unborn child confirmed. But it's not as immediate a payday." The look on the bronzerider's face shows no preference for either of these activities. That he even presents turning Ienavi over when she and her unborn child are apparently wanted dead might be noteworthy. "I'm not sure I care much what happens, but I'd bloody well like us to be off stew rations by the next time tithes come in, so anything the Weyrleader can do to not step in it with Nabol..." He shrugs. "Seems like we-" The Weyr, "-are taking a hands off approach, but even that, depending on who wins out in the battle for Blooded honor and title could earn us a black mark for not helping. Feels to me like staying out of it is a sure way of letting the world happen to us instead of making the world we wish to see." He drains his glass. "Maybe you could find your way to having the topic of Nabol come up and simply slipping him any relevant information he doesn't already know? I mean, you seem pretty clever." The bronzer's baritone is teasing now, his lips curling into a close-lipped smile at the shady lady. "Smarts, yes, but this sort of thing ain' all that uncommon in a Hold, darlin'," Jo remarks with a half-shrug and a shake of her head. "Lucky for them, I prefer my payment opportunities more immediate. Ya care what happens." This last to negate something K'zin says, a brow hitching upwards briefly at him. "Ya wouldn' need to tell me that the Weyr should be gettin' involved with this mess otherwise if ya didn'." Perhaps it's noted the lack of opinion on her part, as well since after the pause, she prompts, "So, I'm suppose to deliver this very pointed opinion to our Weyrleader without yer name attached, am I?" Likely for the last, humor coloring her tone. K'zin gives a noncommittal shrug to Jo's shrewd observation about his caring for the whole situation. There might even be a touch of surprise in his look that gives away that he mightn't have thought of it quite like that before. "Yes." He confirms simply, without his name. "If I'd wanted my name attached, I'd not have needed to pay you with information first. I'd've just gone to see if the Weyrleader had a pencil sharpener at my next opportunity." He drums his fingers briefly on the tabletop. "But I assume you want something more for your trouble judging from the way you framed that." Pause. "What?" "How?" Jo prompts once K'zin answers, studying him intently from across the table. "Should I just call ya 'some disgruntled bronzerider that shall not be named?' Or maybe 'some dude in the Weyr'?" Long fingers tap knuckles idly when he drums his fingers, and that last on something more. There's a slight but brief frown for it before she shakes her head as if to clear it. "Ya assumed wrong," she answers K'zin smoothly with a crooked grin. Nodding once now, "I'll let him know all that ya said," she gives, seeming to acquiesce. "Without yer name attached. Is there anymore ya gleaned?" "You can't just say 'I came across some information about Nabol that you mightn't know but you might want to,' and tell him about Rone's wanting Ienavi's head and that trouble's brewing there?" K'zin's brows raise and he eyes the bluerider, "If he's half as smart as he ought to be to be knocking boots with you on a regular basis, he'll sort out for himself that the Weyr needs to take action before things turn ugly. And if he doesn't, he doesn't, and so much more the pity for the Weyr." He's not out for Jo to tell Z'ian what to do, just to make sure he has the information if he doesn't already. He pauses to consider the question of if there's more he gleaned. "Not really." He shrugs his shoulders, "Rone or his father tried to detain lord Euan of Greenfields, Lady Ienavi's half-brother but he made it out. And maybe a few details about the night Ienavi disappeared, but nothing cogent." He shrugs that off. "If I find out more that's relevant, I'll let you know. Although," Here he levels a serious look at her, "It would be helpful to know the aims of the Weyr so I could provide the information that would be relevant." Hard to make a judgment call when the goals aren't known. "He'll know what to do about yer Hold business, ya smartass," Jo quips back in a drawl and quirk of her lips. Straightening up on her seat, she nods once she hears about Euan - as if the name was familiar to her already - and chooses to comment on the last with a brisk, "Better to ask the leaders yerself, right, if yer lookin' to make waves? See what Z'ian thinks? See what Azaylia thinks? But like I said, I'll tell him for ya. One of my few good deeds this turn'n shit." "I'm not looking to make waves." K'zin answers that pointedly. "Azaylia is as by the book as they come. Z'ian maybe not so much, but I don't know him. It's not the kind of thing one can just open with. He doesn't know me from B'ob. For the time being, that's fine. You don't want our amateur attempts to influence anywhere near your bronzer, do you?" The younger bronzerider's baritone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent - something respectful about how he's not, out of deference to Z'ian's connection to Jo. "Amateur attempts?" That gets Jo to look pointed, and perhaps askance, at him. "I keep forgettin' yer from that weyrlin' class. Look, it's neither here nor there with me. I don' get the cloak'n dagger shit yer class seems to enjoy doin'," as if she knows of others, "but if ya want stay anonymous, then who I am to question?" She gets to her feet then before adding, "Thanks for the drink, though. Oh-" and hand goes fishing into one of her inner jacket pockets to produce a tied up black pouch that clings when she tosses it on the table. "From the drawings," she gives in explanation of the payment. "Looks like he came through for ya, finally. Been meanin' to send this yer way but it's too heavy for Mime to carry." Snorting, "Send it my way when ya do," Jo answers on those drawings with an incline of her head. "He'll be around in a month to collect. Already got my cut thought," she adds with a click of her teeth in a smile. "Don' spend it all in one place, darlin'. He also said if ya can send him more male ones, he would be appreciated." Grin. She steps away from the table then as she prepares to head out, looking back over her shoulder as she asks, "Yer alright? Haven' seen hide nor tail of ya'n Rasavyth since the brothel." The smile that answers the request passed on by Jo has K'zin grinning. "Not a problem." Each word is punctuated with a slight widening of the grin. "I've got some worked up that I've been working on." Then there's a nod. "Yep, we're well. I've been keeping my eyes open. Starting to see things clearly." The bronzerider notes this. "You've seemed busy, so I didn't want to distract you. You and Tac well?" He queries briefly. "Good," Jo says on the drawings, punctuating it with a firm nod. "It's good things are takin' off well there. Took long enough, right?" Amusement there. To the latter, the bluerider rolls her eyes and plants both hands on the table before K'zin before she leans over and states, "I'm the busy one? I think we're runnin' neck'n neck on that one, bronzerider." She straightens up before she adds, "Ya been so broody these days, one wonders if one day ya'll wake up and suddenly snap. Tac and I are good, by the way," she goes on to say easily. "Ya know us. The world may crash down around our heads and we're still golden. Guess that makes us pretty fucked up." It's said with a smile. "Broody!" Ha. It earns that very bark of laughter from K'zin, and a grin. "Look, we don't like to be without something to do." It's not defensive just innocent and therefore comical. He reaches for the bottle, moving to tip it to fill his glass again. "Somethin', my ass," Jo is almost looking suspiciously at him, but the woman doesn't seem to be following that up with any further poking. Instead she flaps a hand at him with a "Alright. See ya around, right? When ya got nothin' to do. It's been awhile since I've thrown yer ass on the floor in a skirmish." She tosses a wink his way before she starts to head out towards the ledge, lifting a back hand his way in farewell. "You're welcome to beat my ass anytime!" K'zin calls after the bluerider with levity in his tone. Rasavyth helpfully flashes an image to Tacuseth, similar to his earlier 'Bad Bronzer' paddling, to bring things full circle. |
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