Logs:Calmly Contentious
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| RL Date: 3 April, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: While catching up with ex-wingmates, Azaylia asks Jo a question that leads to a curious conversation. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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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's just shy of evening, with the bar not yet fully crowded with residents and dragonriders alike. It's also a really early time to be catching one black leathered dragonrider within, but Jo is here at the counter, just having been passed her drink. She has the look of someone having just gotten in since she still has her gloves on, and she's sitting apart from those few older Glacier riders that are in the bar with her. They, for that matterare busy engaging in throwing darts and drinking their beer. It may be hard to recognize Azaylia at first, chatting warmly with a Glacier rider not too far off from where Jo's sitting. It's one of those rare moments the weyrwoman isn't pouring over her share of the paperwork or speaking with a lower caverns worker. Dark hair styled and dress casual but pretty, it seems as though the goldrider has decided to take a break and catch up with her once-wingmates. A freshly scrubbed contrast to the bluerider, she drifts from her admittedly one-sided conversation and moves for an empty spot at the bar. She's likely unaware of the gap she fills between Jo and those older riders, hands folded atop the counter as she waits for the 'tender to come back around. Only after she's settled in, "Jo." It's a pleasant greeting, drawn out either by surprise or what might pass as suspicion from the likes of her. Downing about half of her drink, Jo turns her head in time to see the goldrider come up from nearby. She only nods and raises her drink in greeting all at once, once Azaylia looks her way and speaks her name. Leaning up casually against the counter, "Azaylia," she returns, her tone one of interest and a light touch of humor. "Been awhile since we've run into each other properly. Since ya gotten away from our wing," and she nods towards the Glacier wingriders she was previously talking to. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't." Azaylia's is all too carefully picking over her words, "Not that I want to leave Aurora, I just... miss it." Too much shared too soon, the weyrwoman struggles to regain her balance. "A while since the, uhm. Hatching." Too much weight on the other side, now. She's rescued by the bartender, placing her order and taking a moment after he's left to regain some composure. "So... how are you? Tacuseth?" There. Even. "Come on, yer practically Glacier," Jo notes, jerking a thumb back at her wingmates. "They probably still see ya as one. I can' even see ya in Aurora, even though yer ridin' a queen." With her, it even sounds slightly dirty. Still, she's watching the other with that piercing gaze of hers as her drinking slows to something more leisurely - as if she suddenly has all the time on Pern and has nowhere to go. When she brings up the hatching, there's a brief quirk of her lips before she nods and confirms, "That's right. Since the Hatchin'. Guess I missed ya since I didn' stick around. I could've asked for a dance otherwise, if Taikrin wasn' stealin' up yer dance time." There's a little humor there, but, she then chooses to answer the last. "I'm always alright," seems to be customary of a response to that sort of question, "and, Tac's fine so long's I am. Don' take much to please him. What about you? I know with the..." Well. She pauses, and there's a slight prompt anyway, staring her down. There's a hint of a bigger grin behind the polite smile Azaylia wears, lips twitching as her gaze follows Jo's thumb, "I'd like to think that." Perhaps the motive behind her sharing a drink with them from time to time. "Aurora's not the same, no." The goldrider looks across the bar, eyes trailing along the various bottles and glasses kept behind it. "You were busy during the Hatching." She understands, even if she so obviously doesn't. Her body teeters forward, catching herself by crossing her arms atop the bar, "I've been... I'm alright. " Not always, as Jo seems to be, but, "Doing what I can." The bluerider's stare is avoided but felt, eyes following the curve of a particularly interesting bottle. Casually, too much to be genuine, "Did you know?" "Ya can come back," Jo seems to make that sound enticing - as if she, a bluerider, had the authority to - but it also seems to be casual enough to be in jest. "Ya seem to mesh well with us hardened folk." Gaze remains firmly on Azaylia, even when she seems to be avoiding her eyes. She lingers that glass to her lips as she leans back on an elbow on the counter, her jacket unfastened all the way down to reveal her off-white tank top underneath. Jo can pick up nuances well, it seems, for there's a slight but brief narrow of her eyes even though the light humor on her lips is still present through the account of the Hatching. Then, "Bones takin' good care of ya? He swears left and right on ya. Protectin' ya the way he does." But there's a breath of a pause, especially in light of the question. Lips part as if there was something quick to follow in answer, but lips shut and then she drains her drink and turns to sets the glass down and lift a finger towards the bartender to try and get his attention. While doing so, "Nah," she gives her brief answer, looking Azaylia's way, her expression neutral. "Didn' have a clue. Didn' ask. Knew it was somethin' big, though. Somethin' that bothered her. Long time to be carryin' a secret like that, but, I bet half these folks 'round here busy givin' me and her the dirty eye would have done the same in her boots. Ain' easy, bein' who ya are." It's all given matter-of-factly as the bartender approaches, and she wiggles a finger at her glass for a refill before she adds, to the goldrider, "Lemme buy the next round, darlin'." Azaylia is enticed for as long as it takes her to give a quiet, "No." Resigned, she's not beyond accepting what she sees as a compliment, "Do I? Thank you." When her drink arrives it's a painfully fruity looking concoction in a tall glass, one she eagerly sips from. At the mention of Bones, her smile is all the more bright, "He's so strange. He's a good friend to have, though. And..." Slow to admit it, "He does take care of me, in his own way." Her gaze snaps back to the bluerider, catching her neutral expression when Jo answers the question. More of what has to be suspicion flickers in her gaze, weighing on her brow for a subtle scowl. It's not the aformentioned dirty eye, but a stern expression none the less. "I wouldn't have." But, "You really didn't..? Really." Her disbelief isn't enough to stall her manners, "You don't have to." Buy the next round. Drums. The constant noise shifts from a hazy rhythm into something sharper, focused at the blue's thoughts. Hraedhyth is there, fires warm rather than red hot, black plumes a dark warning that her mood could very well change. Especially when she presses, « Yours speaks the truth? » There's a rumble, a hunger for the truth, if only in this. (Hraedhyth to Tacuseth) Jo seems to accept that she couldn't come back since she doesn't comment further on it. She looks toward the bartender and nods before she returns to their conversation, which is of Bones. "He's a good man in the end, despite what he thinks," is her observation of the rough gardener, and there's a fondness in her tone for him that seems alittle more than just friendly. "He'd do right by ya, I believe that." However, she does seem to note that flicker of suspicion for her own response to the question, and the bluerider actually seems to be all the more amused and curious rather than offended. "So yer sayin', yer an open book o'hides, then?" she puts to her on something answered, head slightly tilting to angle a pointed look her way. "We all know everythin' about ya, do we? Nothin' to hide, yer whole past and present right here on display? Nah," and she leans back, a hand reaching out just as the bartender sweeps by and drops her refilled drink into her hand. "I believe everyone has somethin' to hide. Might not be as big as hidin' yer identity from the world, but there's somethin' there." There's a space of a pause then before she says right then, "Ya don' believe me," and it's said musingly, as if she's not sure what to make of that. "And I insist. Not every day that I'm generous." That grin hitches up a fraction. Tacuseth's own is the cuing of a rush - a crowd - of hot winds blowing across dry sand. His mood is as mysterious as his lady's, the shadows blanketing those winds in whispers before there's a deeper, prominent touch from this one. « That she does, » is what is given, lazy and simple. It is no secret to him. (Tacuseth to Hraedhyth) With a touch of relief, "I know he will. I trust him." Azaylia glides her glass closer on the cool puddle that's formed beneath it, "He's mentioned you, too. Usually it's about how good you look, or how fun you are." Hardly the prude, faint amusement touches on a fun that's far from wholesome. Bones is not a shy man. Surprise has her brows lifting, not expecting the questions to be turned onto her. "Well... I'd like to think so?" Fear of accidental untruths keeps her from sounding certain. "I can't think of a question about myself that I wouldn't answer. I'm who I say I am." The last is said calmly, too much effort into sounding as neutral as Jo looks. The goldrider's gaze remains on her face, unfocused for a moment after the bluerider's musing, "I didn't... I wasn't sure I could." But with Tacuseth's testimony, "I do. I don't... it's hard to trust people. And if you're offer still stands..." She nods, accepting Jo's generosity. To Tacuseth, Hraedhyth's low growl tapers off, satiated by his answer. Informality is met with her own, a puff of smoke that carries away the rest of her tension. « That is all we ask. » She would not demand of him what she would not give, honest in that she doesn't pay his shadows any mind. They are His and Hers. Laughing on the account of the gardener, "Good to see he keeps focus on some of my more versatile assets, then," Jo quips on what he says about her, her ego brushed. "And I am. Fun. Life's too fuckin' short to waste time on the things ya can' change." Then there's the matter of what's hidden or not, and she takes a lingering drink from her glass without her gaze leaving Azaylia's face. Always studying. Always trying to catch every flicker of nuance in words or tone or expression. She catches it all. "If ya truly-" and there's skepticism here "-have nothin' to hide, then yer one lucky woman with a clear conscious. We all can't be made that way. Some things, folks just aren' privy to. Some things are hidden for folks' own good. Whether it's done out of good intentions, or bad," and there's a non-chalant shrug for it. "But she kept it from ya," she surmises, her study intense now. "That really bothers ya." There's a slight prompt here, a pause. Even when Azaylia tells her that she does believe her, the bluerider's expression doesn't change. After a moment, "If I had known," she muses now, idly, "what would that say of me, to ya? That I am not to be trusted, too?" There's a curious little smile to that before she adds, "Most don', anyway, darlin'. The ones that don' know me. I don' think ya know me," she notes now matter-of-factly, "so I can' help but wonder what difference does it make whether I knew what she was goin' to say or not?" Nothing accusatory in her tone. Just curiosity. Only then does she say, "My offer still stands." There's no winds of tension in Tacuseth's shadowy place, the sound of the crowds dim. There's a sense of a nod, of an understanding, though there's always the tendrils lingering in her mind despite his whispered silence. An invitation in case she needs anything else, but his winds remain low. (Tacuseth to Hraedhyth) Amusement that's tied to Azaylia's roommate doesn't last much longer as Jo continues, the skepticism prompting a light purse to her lips. It smooths once she accepts that the bluerider has no reason to trust her, either. "I don't expect everyone to be the same. I talk with people who I know lie." But perhaps it's the knowledge of that beforehand that makes it easy to maintain such tentative bonds. After a chilly gulp, "Of course it bothers me. From the moment she introduced herself, she lied. You can't have a friendship based on that." Said simply, the hurt having run its course until all that's left is fact. The weyrwoman doesn't answer right away, the difference between knowing and not hard to place in words. She succeeds, after a time, "I can't fault you if you were being a friend." A role that she's admitted is nigh impossible for her at this point. "I don't know you. I guess I just wanted to know if... you were a threat. To the Weyr." Her own well being earns less thought, especially when she decides to chug what remains of her fruity cocktail. Catching her breath, "I accept." There's a little bit of laughter in regards to Aishani, though, there's no mockery in it. "Ya think she kept somethin' like this from ya as a malicious attack?" There's a shake of her head, but she does add, "I doubt it, but, I get where ya comin' from, darlin'. I do. But. Ya gotta see where she's comin' from, too. Sometimes, witholdin' truths...it ain' nothin' personal." By the dark tone, she seems to know. Having said that, she drains most of her glass and looks into it in the lull, listening to the rest but not responding right away. It's only towards the end, when she glances Azaylia's way, that she does. "Am I a threat because I associate with Aishani?" She puts the name out there, since she was whom they were speaking of as she toys with her glass, moving its bare contents this way and that. "To say that, that would mean ya consider her a threat." There's a pregnant pause for that. "Is it because of who her family is?" she has to ask now, following that train of thinking. Dark eyes turn now to the returning bartender, setting her glass down as she states, "Both drinks. On me." She's getting the next round. Confusion is warn openly at Jo's first assumption, "No, of course not. She didn't have to do it to me. It's just..." Bad? Dishonest? Evil? Azaylia has too many options and not enough time to choose one that she feels is suitable. Her empty glass is pushed away, carried on the same watery trail left when she had first pulled it closs, her expression thoughtful. "She did it because of what was done to her father. That is personal." It's a gentle argument, her tone kept even as she tries to explain her thoughts. "You're not a threat because you talk to her. That's what I was deciding on, earlier." The weyrwoman's gaze drops, nothing shifty in the gesture, simply mulling over the bluerider's question. "No. I don't care who her family is-- I wouldn't have. She could have told me about who she was. Best friends are supposed to be able to tell each other everything." When her eyes find Jo's once more, there's a flicker of determination. "She is a threat. People need a leader they can trust, and I can't trust someone who'd do all of this just to hurt a good man. Not for something we're both guilty of." "I meant nothin' personal, in regards to you," Jo clarifies, now draining what remains in her glass. "I don' blame her for hidin' it. She could've gone on and kept it to herself. Ya'd be none the wiser. Takes guts to admit yer the daughter of a man this Weyr executed. Only thing that's changed since it was her name." There's silence in light of best friends though, seeming to be mulling that over in her head as she waits for the next round. Propping an elbow to the counter now, her eyes locked on the goldrider, "I can' speak for her," she admits quietly. "I can only speak for myself. I have family out there that don' even know I'm alive. That I'm alive and livin' here as a dragonrider. I choose to hold that to myself. If I choose to approach them, one day? Sure, they'll be upset after they're relieved, but I have my reasons for holdin' back. Just like I imagine she did with ya. Ain' nothin' personal for me, just..." She pauses, jaw tightening before she goes on to say abruptly, "Just has to be. Should I ever change my mind, I only hope that they understand why I kept away for almost ten turns. That it wasn' really them as much as me." She catches that look of determination and the words attached to them before she drawls out, "K'del." Nothing else is said, but his name. Azaylia nods, understanding a bit better for all that her answer doesn't change. "Guts." She echoes, finding it odd enough to do so. Tension that she's not even aware of begins to leave her shoulders, easing more of her own weight onto the counter as Jo speaks more of herself. There's genuine interest, and while they are of differing opinions, it seems the goldrider meant it when she claims to not see Jo in a negative light. Tinted, perhaps. "You aren't a goldrider. You didn't claim to be Acting, and your decision is yours. We don't have that luxuary. If you decide to get in touch with your family, it won't effect the entire Weyr." She's speaking even softer now, "I am sorry, though. For whatever's made it hard for you to contact them." She doesn't quite understand, and she doesn't look like she means to pry. There's a soft nod at K'del's name. The bartender returns with their drinks, and Jo briefly raises hers towards him as he passes before she gestures with a long finger for Azaylia to take up hers. "She is a goldrider, of that we can agree," she admits with a lopsided grin. "But I disagree on the decision not bein' hers. For whatever the case is, she is Aishani. She always was Aishani before the hatchin', and she will continue to be so. Aishani Impressed a queen. To hold back who she is, or to reveal it from the beginnin', that's not a call I think anyone here can make, but her." She takes a drink after that before setting it down. There's a flick of fingers to the matter of her family, making it seem a lost cause as far as she was concerned as she says, simply, "It was my call to make." Nodding to her, "K'del and ya, though," she goes on to say, watching her. "Soundin' like she's gonna tear this Weyr down around our heads. Makes me wonder why she hasn' done it so far - if-" and she briefly lifts a finger "-she's such a threat. Doesn' that make ya think about it? Why not fuck with things as 'Brieli'? It's the perfect cover, right? No motives, no one knows yer family, no one knows... anythin." "Thank you." Gratitude is aimed at the 'tender, though her lifted glass is tilted towards Jo, who's paying for it. Azaylia's kindness, or perhaps it's her empathy that has run out, following on what the bluerider's said, "Then she should have been Aishani. But, you say it was her call to make." She'll allow, despite this stubborn streak of hers in regards to the subject at hand. She's firm in her beliefs, but willing to hear Jo's, even if the bluerider's words have her draining half of that alchoholic sunrise. "If I understood her, maybe I wouldn't see her as a threat." She admits as much, rasping at the citrus sting of her drink. Light voice is returned to her after she clears her throat, "Why lie about who she is? Why reveal it? All I know is that she's dishonest, and she puts what she wants above our home. That's enough to have me worried for what else she might do." Her shrug allows: if anything. There's a raise of her glass to something initially said, and Jo takes a drink before she speaks. "It was," she states on calls, seeming to be just as stubborn on that particular point. Azaylia's admission, though, that has the bluerider nodding. "I can agree with that. If ya understood her." To the rest, though... There's a silence from her that's perhaps unsettling, there following her own words before the goldrider speaks again and this time, on dishonesty. "What does she want, ya think?" she now poses the question, her tone non-committal. Azaylia ends up with a bittersweet curl to her lips, fingers placing her drink down and giving it a few turns. In the silence, her gaze loses focus, manners forgotten as she ends up staring at Jo, while not seeing her. In time, her gaze drops to the rider's shoulder, leaping back up to her face at the question. "I don't know. Is she biding her time? Will she do something to K'del?" It's beyond common knowledge that he was Weyrleader when Aishani's father was hung. It's history. "I honestly don't know." Her drink is drained, a wince for the mouthful of chilled, spiked juice. "I can't think that it's anything good. Not after all this." "Mm," Jo sends her way to something before she drains her glass the rest of the way. After a moment, she sets the glass down and sends Azaylia one of her disarming smiles. "I see that I won' be able to convince ya otherwise," she states, as if she has been trying to before. "I get that ya feel betrayed, though, darlin'. For that, I can get. But we both here know there ain' nothin' we're goin' to say to each other that's goin' to make things okay. Make ya feel better. I can' make ya feel better about this, and, I wish I could." Dipping a hand into the inner jacket pocket of her coat, "I got no problem with ya, Azaylia," she states, pulling out enough marks to cover their round and the drinks she had previous. "I barely even know ya. Bones swears by ya, though, and that's somethin' to me. We'll have our differences, obviously," she notes, sliding those marks toward the bartender as she wiggles a finger between them, "but that don' stop me from havin' a drink with ya. Maybe even some other time, too." Pause. "That's if ya still trust me," she has to add, sending her a rakish smile. That smile paired with a darlin' isn't something Azaylia is prepared for, a blink softening her resolve into something apologetic. "I'm sorry. I only meant to ask the one question and..." She lifts a hand and just splays her fingers. Here they are. "I didn't mean to sound like I was trying to convince you, either. Like I said, I can't blame you for being someone's friend." Even if that someone is Aishani. The weyrwoman tips the watery remnants of her drink into her lips, buying herself some time so that her judgement can get properly impared. Then she can decide on a third. "Sure, Jo. I'd like that. We were wingmates, after all." Riding Glacier seems to have meant something to her, even if there were those who would never see her as a 'proper' wingrider. As for the matter of trust, "I... there aren't many people I trust right now." A squint, not quite a wince, hoping that the bluerider might understand the difference, "We can still share a drink? I'll buy next time." "Don' need to be sorry for what ya think," Jo answers that easily enough. "At the end of the day, we answer to ourselves. Our dragons." She briefly inclines her head on the matter of Aishani and gets to her feet, sliding from the stool. There's a quick grin on them having been wingmates, and when Azaylia answers on trust, she was heading away from the counter slowly before she glances back at her over her shoulder. Amused by those words, somehow, "I could say ya shouldn' trust me at all, either way," she seems to note. "Leave ya to speculate all about me like yer doin' Aishani. At least I'm bein' thought of." Such arrogance. That is the essence of Jo. There a breath's pause before she adds on the last now, "Yeah, yer turn next time. See ya around, Azaylia." Though the glass is empty, Azaylia lifts it in a toast for answering to ones dragon, a silent farewell as Jo begins to leave. "If you did," She answers the hypothetical, "Then I'd believe you." Not to say that the bluerider has her trust, even now. Her arrogance is met with gentle amusement, not enough to stir up a parting comment it seems. "Clear skies, Jo." She sends her off with some warmth, but mostly curiosity. Turning back to the bar, she makes a bad decision in ordering a third-- a guarantee that there'll be a fourth, and so on. |
Comments
Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 04 Apr 2013 16:26:36 GMT.
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Always love Jo's conversations! Great scene, both. :)
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