Logs:Difference of Opinion
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 29 September, 2014 |
| Who: L'sha, Rafevan, N'vad, Z'riah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Four men share a brief introduction. |
| Where: Snowasis, HRW |
| When: Day 10, Month 12, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
    |
| Winter--is this the smartest possible time to move to High Reaches? Probably not. It probably says things about one N'vad-formerly-of-Benden that his arrival is timed for now. Some of those things may not be complimentary. Never mind. He's evidently gotten settled in enough to figure out that there's an establishment that serves alcohol, and now here he is, at the bar, perched on a barstool with an old-fashioned glass in front of him. There's a cane--not too fancy, but a nice piece of work, the sort of thing one expects to be using for some time--propped up against his stool. At present, he is in the process of trying to wave the busy bartender back down for a refill, despite there being another two fingers of liquor in the glass, but not having any great level of success. "Yeah, uh... hey... can I get... right." A lot of gravel in the voice. Another recent transplant, not even a legit transfer quite yet, Z'riah would have very much preferred to make his debut in High Reaches during the summer months that are much more reminiscent of his home. His old home. But the greenrider will certainly do his best to make do with the scenery he has. Which means he's scanning the Snowasis for friendly-ish faces. Or maybe just faces. He'll start there and work his way up as he's able. It brings him to the bar, close enough to the bluerider to accidentally knock his cane with a careless foot as he leans over to try to do the exact same thing; get the bartender's attention. L'sha wanders into the Snowasis after a long, hard day of drills and sweeps, waving to a few of his friends as he enters. He walks to the bar and finds a space next to the older man with the cane. In contrast, he seems to attract a bartender almost immediately, so he must be a regular around here. He orders his usual, an enormous blue-colored concoction with a tiny unbrella and various fruit slices stuck in it. "And bring this fellow another of what he's having, can't you see he's trying to get your attention?" He grins and winks at the man behind the bar. "Watch it!" N'vad is paying enough attention to catch the cane before it goes clattering to the floor and causing any seriously undignified scrambling. Not quick enough to handle it smoothly, though. "Damn fool--" But there's other stuff going on here, right? The distraction is itself subject to distraction, apparently. "Oh, hey. Great." No sign of begrudging that it took someone else's intervention, but the intervenor still gets a side-eye. "You even old enough to be in here?" L'sha leans against the bar, his elbow resting on top of it. He grins at the older rider. "They're serving me, aren't they?" His eyes widen briefly as he gets a good look at the younger man who just nearly knocked over the cane, then they return to the older one. He extends a hand. "L'sha, green Rillaeth's. I haven't seen you around, are you new here?" He raises his voice a bit so he can be heard above the din of the crowd. Z'riah shoots a look at the man who barks at him, taking in both cane and oldness in the brief once over he spares before his attention shifts toward the younger man that draws the attention of the bartender. "Hey! Me, too," he tells the 'tender before he can be completely ignored. "They probably only serving you because..." The rest of what he says is sort of drowned out because he turns his head to look the other way. But it probably was not for innocent ears or polite conversation. L'sha doesn't catch what Z'riah says, but he can guess. And yeah, whatever it is, it's probably true. He grins at the man, then his drink comes. He leans over and whispers something to the bartender, who then moves to take Z'riah's order. "What can I get you? It's on him." the barkeep hooks a thumb in L'sha's direction. L'sha smiles and waves to Z'riah. Older, yes. Surely there must be some folks around here who balance out the spectrum, but at this particular corner of the bar, N'vad is looking relatively elderly, especially with the way his forehead creases when his left eyebrow climbs. "Not sure I'd say that's what you'd call proof--hey, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" The latter demanded of Z'riah, possibly without even the faintest clue what was actually said. Finally, an answer to L'sha's question: "I'm... from Benden." The Snowasis is one of the first places any number of people find early on in their time at the Reaches. Rafevan is no exception, turning up from the direction of the bowl with his collar turned up and heavy coat tucked tight around him on his way to the bar. He fits himself in by the other men currently there, lifting a hand to hail the bartender first and foremost. Well, even if he's going to talk shit about the person it's coming from, mostly unprovoked, Z'riah won't turn down a free drink. He tells the bartender exactly what he wants, then tips a lazy salute toward the other greenrider with a just as lazy smile. It's N'vad he answers, though, sounding quite pleased with himself, "I do, actually. She doesn't seem to mind." Another nearby body draws Z'riah's attention, but for now he only offers Rafevan the same lazy smile he gave L'sha. L'sha turns to the older man. "Ah, then High Reaches' duty to Benden! What brings you here?" To Z'riah, he says, "And you're a stranger, too, where are you from?" His eyes are likewise drawn to Rafevan and he catches Z'riah looking. He smirks and sips his huge fruity drink. Nothing fruity for Rafevan, at least not in the same way as L'sha: he requests a cider from the barkeep instead, with a little nod of thanks when it appears in front of him. One first sip, and then he slants a glance at the others nearby when he catches that look at him. "Evening, gentlemen," he offers. "This, mostly." N'vad raps the cane against the leg of the stool he's sitting on, a couple firm thwacks. "Weyrleaders and I had a bit of a difference of opinion as to my continuing ability to do everything I've done just fine for twenty-odd Turns and I ain't of a mind to just lay around the rest of my life. Seems like this suits well as anywhere." And what's the temperature outside? Well, with a freshly-refilled glass, N'vad can surely tackle it. "So don't owe nobody no duties just now, I reckon, but s'pose it's good manners. Some of you boys got decent manners." Just a slight glower at Z'riah, there. "Evening," to Rafevan, which distracts him from further commentary on the subject. "And you're nosy," Z'riah points out to L'sha. But he still offers, "Monaco," because why not. There's at least a thanks to the bartender when he gets his drink, and a tip to top it off. He's not completely hopeless where manners are concerned, even if that might remain to be judged by his peers. The greenrider reaches out with every intention of trying to snatch N'vad's cane away from him. "I'm sure we could have lots of fun with that thing. You actually need it?" L'sha tsks at N'vad. "That's terrible. Well, I'm sure we can find something for you to do if you talk to the Weyrleaders. K'del's a reasonable man." He grins cheerily at Z'riah. "Duties to Monaco!" His grin turns to an open-mouthed look of horror as Z'riah tries to take N'vad's cane. "Don't you dare!" Also nosy? Rafevan. He makes no pretense otherwise, listening to N'vad with lifted brows while he sips on his drink. "Oh, no, don't mind me," he encourages a beat later, on the heels of the bluerider's words. "I don't mean to interrupt." Cane-snatching? Definitely not getting in on that, though he'll watch with that same curious-judging expression. N'vad's cane will stay right firmly where it is, thank you. Things he doesn't have problems with: grip. "Faranth... you think I'd be carryin' this around just for my health?" For a moment, the way he holds it, there's some clear thought about whether it would in fact feel better to smack somebody with it, but evidently N'vad is not possessed of enough temper to follow through. Mostly because of the compulsion to turn to L'sha, serious expression on his face, and say, "You're gettin' mighty close to that line 'tween polite and brown-nosin'." And then he takes a drink, because clearly that'll help matters. "N'vad," he finally tacks on. A name, he has one, even if not quite the social graces to figure out where to insert it for the benefit of his collection of new... friends? Acquaintances? Kids in his general proximity? The Monacoan rolls his eyes at L'sha even as the attempt fails. And of course it needs to be brushed off as only because he let the bluerider keep his cane. Z'riah lifts the same grabby hand up to push through his hair instead, then he reaches for his drink and glances over at Rafevan, "What do you think? I think it coulda been some lame attempt at a fashion statement." And, finally, because everyone is probably so interested, he offers his name, "Z'riah." L'sha beams at Rafevan again. "Yet another new face! Is there a half-price drinks special for new people at the Snowasis tonight? So, where do you hail from, then? I'm L'sha, green Rillaeth's rider." He pales a bit at N'vad's admonishment. "Just tryin' to be nice," he mutters, then frowns again at Z'riah. "Or," Rafevan offers after one more sip of cider, "you could just be a moronic asshat whose mother never trained him better than to harass the disabled over the legitimacy of their handicap." Beat. His smile's too nice, a little flat at the edge. "But that's just one option among many. Rafevan. A pleasure, I'm sure." That glass is not small enough for N'vad finishing it off in one go to be any sort of good sense, but evidently he's at least got the tolerance not to collapse immediately under the weight of it. "Ain't disabled," firmly. "Just givin' it time to heal properly." Right. Speaking of collapsing, when he vacates the barstool he is putting a fair amount of weight on that stick. "If you'll all 'scuse me, there's a blue fella out in the bowl thinks he's getting frostbite or somethin', aim to get him back somewhere warm for the night even if our weyr ain't exactly cozy yet." It's Rafevan that earns Z'riah's lingering attention, blue eyes narrowing in a way that makes it difficult to tell whether he's going to be upset or whether he's simply thinking. In the end, the greenrider only smirks at the other man, because N'vad's parting needs some sort of send off. "Careful, oldtimer. Should we send L'sha here with you to make sure you get home okay?" L'sha smiles and nods to Rafevan. "Welcome to the 'Reaches, Rafevan. Enjoy your stay." He finishes his drink, bids N'vad a good night and walks over to Z'riah, his face slightly red. "And you -- you're really cute, but you're also a big jerk!" The words come out in a rush, then he does an about-face and storms out of the Snowasis. "Pardon," says Rafe to N'vad, at least as much apology as goodbye while L'sha stomps away in the lead of the breaking-up group. "Got all the company I need, thanks," and anyway L'sha's storming out, so N'vad would be in a bad way if he was depending on the help, wouldn't he? "Sensitive," the commentary on that, and it doesn't come out quite like a compliment, although it's a mild sort of an insult if it is one at all. "Look," to absolutely nobody, sort of under his breath, "it ain't frostbite if your tail is blue because it was already blue--" Thus beginning half of a muttered argument that persists until he's made his way outside and back to his dragon. Z'riah won't leave right away, but he'll drift away from the guy who called him a moronic asshat once L'sha is out of his face. There are surely people who will enjoy his, uh, charm. |
Leave A Comment