Logs:Equals

Equals
"You look after yer own...again."
RL Date: 31 July, 2015
Who: Jo, Alida, Tacuseth, Ilicaeth
Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Tillek Hold
Type: Log
What: Jo invites Alida to the docks to catch up while on a mission. There's some Pyrite proddiness involved.
Where: Docks, Tillek Hold
When: Day 1, Month 6, Turn 38 (Interval 10)
Weather: Sunny, temperate.
Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Z'kiel/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, X'vin/Mentions

OOC Notes: Language and racy talk.


It's the docks in Tillek that finds Jo and Tacuseth this afternoon. The bluerider is currently near one of the ships, leaning against a wooden pole with her arms crossed as she watches the men move wooden cargo to and fro before her. She's not hiding the fact that she's watching, either, and perhaps it's ominous that she has Tacuseth send to Ilicaeth « Clear yer schedule. Come to Tillek! » with the proper visuals. Perfect place to both talk and look conspicuous, right? She was just about to engage in another round of showing up at the Dragonhealers when Ilicaeth receives Tacuseth's communication, which sees Alida making (in person) her respects and 'sorries' to staff before heading off. She does take a moment to change from her 'sloppy work' clothes into something more 'dragon-ridery when out and about every day in public,' the younger blue communicating back to his bff, « We'll be there in 5. » Minutes; heh. In the meantime, his brain studies those coordinates - but not too closely - and he chuffs his baritone, « Alida's thinkin' uv' a fresh fish dinner, now. » And so is he, rather suddenly. « Are there lots uv fish I c'n find in the water there? » Ilicaeth is feeling 'snacky.' Not long after these little 'talks,' the bulky blue pops from Between into the air over Tillek, soon landing not at all far from Tac, then disgorging his rider - who waves at the elder blue - who strides briskly to where Jo is hopefully located. As she does so, Ilicaeth steps over to Tac, and attempts to give him an equitably affable shoulder bump. « We'll go fishin', » Tacuseth offers, answering once his wingmate is there to bump into him - and he can bump back. « Today's a good huntin' day! » Indeed. He's not the only one hunting it seems, and when Alida approaches her, she gestures towards the men working on the ship cargo as she says, "Ya know, I still get excited seein' crates just beggin' to be taken and opened, turns later." Looking at her now, "Ya wanted to talk," she greets wryly. "I was thinkin' a lil' change of scenery. Need to drop somethin' off here." « Good thing I'm wearin' my older set uv straps... » Ilicaeth's gritty voice full of sand grins a little wickedly to his bro. He's taken the plunge in them before...and luckily for Alida, this time, there's nothing in the packs attached to them. Shoulder butts are awesome! As for fish, « I like those little ones that come in droves the best. » A flash of fingerling fish in a massive school beneath blamy, oceanic waters is flashed to Tacuseth. Pause. « Tillek ain't tropical. » Bummer. Still, hunting! As Alida nears Jo, she finds herself grinning a little sharkily to her wingmate, then nodding to the darker bluerider before stepping near to Jo and murmuring, "Just don' let me catch ya' lootin', wingmate." Wink. More soberly - the paler woman looking around unobtrusively to make sure their conversation doesn't carry - "So...we got two new golds." She misses Azaylia and Hraedhyth like Jo likely misses Aishani and Iesaryth, but the sorrow in green eyes is muted. "One's experienced, the other's a green teen." Beat. "We got a history uv' browns winnin' goldflights. And one bronze with a history uv' winnin' many uv 'em." Too many? "What'cha think?" « Tillek is business, » Tacuseth agrees on tropical, seeming unconcerned about any of Jo's goals for them being here. « Maybe we'll give some of our catch to our ladies, eh? » Yeah right. "Still a guard," Jo notes on Alida's comment on looting. "I oughta come by yer weyr while yer sleepin' and loot it myself. All yer gonna do is tackle me down with a knife to my throat," and she gives a little fake yawn in jest. Once Alida speaks on their golds though, "Let's walk," and she turns to their right, choosing to guide them along the dock as she says, "I'm waitin' for someone'n he's always late. What I think?" A brow lifts up at her, arched comically. "Mm. Not much to think of, really," she says slowly as she looks away. "Irianke will likely end up senior before the weyrlin' does. Unless Cadejoth is restrained in some way, he'll likely chase'n be made Weyrleader once more." Looking at her, "What's your voice on it?" she turns it back on her. « Business's usually boring. » Ho-hum. FIsh for their women? Sheh, yeah...like NOT. Snort! Already Ilicaeth is not-so-subtly nudging Tacuseth towards the water. 'Cause FISH! Much more interesting. Out on the docks, Alida offers Jo a perhaps odd look: fondness mixed with something more withheld and unreadable. Of her own weyr's sanctity, the blonde does answer, "I've broken fingers fer that kinda shit." Maybe worse? She's not really smiling, the curl of the younger woman's lips holding a clear hint of warning in it. Indeed, walking is a good thing to do when on a busy dock...and 'chatting' about some things best left to dragonriders. "Maybe 'e drowned?" Alida smirks broadly back to Jo's word of waiting for this mythical guy, her bootheels thumping rather more loudly than usual as the two of them move along. Listening to what Jo has to say brings a faint furrow to the blonde's brow, plus a small nod before she again murmurs with a definite lack of extra lip movement, "S'what I figured, too...unless things go spectacularly strange. Which they have." Nose-wrinkle. Welcome to High Reaches Weyr. "Been listenin' to the grapevine...sound like the weyrling's not terribly interested in becomin' Senior. Be a more natural 'fit' fer someone like Irianke." Sigh. "He's really the bug in the ointment." Cadejoth...or K'del? "Got nothin' against the bronze." Pause. "We're really in need uv' different blood...in many ways. Still, gotta make sure 'Reaches doesn't become a shadow uv' Igen, either." Green eyes move back and forth as she speaks, from Jo's person and face to their path, both ahead and behind. Habit. Tacuseth heads off to the Tillekian waters where they are, already engaging Ilicaeth in a tale of one dirty bar and a certain gold weyrling while Jo gives Alida a soft snort as she studies that expression. "Must everythin' result in violence with ya?" is her quip to that. "He'll come," she adds right then on the man she's waiting for. "Unless he's dead." Pause. "Farideh ain' ready," she agrees on the weyrling, as if she knows. "Irianke would be a good fit. She's....interestin'. A bold sort. I like bold. Ya ever talked to her?" As for the Weyrleader, there's a grunt of agreement to that and, "Different blood would be nice. What sort of man would'ja prefer to take his place? What if he's foreign?" As in, from Telgar or Fort. She shrugs a bit as she watches where they're going, her pace leisurely and not too fast as she adds, "Reaches is different from Igen. We're a hardy sort. A different sort. The same won' happen here, I reckon. I doubt what happened before, with Taikrin runnin' things, will happen again either." Ilicaeth chortles both mentally and physically as Tac regails him with tales, the personable, younger blue enjoying Tac's presence as a kind of balm for his chosen's own (if beloved) personality. "Not everything..." Alida notes with a sudden, impish look that overtakes both features and green eyes, the blonde trying not to grin hugely, and only partially accomplishing such. "Well, 'e better hurry the fuck up, dead 'r not..." is added to Jo's comments of her made-up man, the younger woman managing to shift from imp to grumpy gus face in one second flat. "Almost all our dragon bloodlines got Cadejoth in'em multiple generations back. Ain't good quadruplin' up, even with out-crossed queens." Sigh, headshake. "Maybe more, different 'Reaches bloodlines c'n be infused back in after the Senior flight. But now..." Now, they need to change things up as much as possible. "Who says it's gotta be a man?" Smirk. "Just 'cause it ain't Szadath 'r Arekoth, doesn' mean another brown can't win. No matter... Guess I'd like ta see a person - man 'r woman - who's dedicated ta 'Reaches, 'r would be such if they transfered in after winnin'. But not really Traditional." Again, there's that nose-wrinkle. "Someone canny enough ta deal with the crap the Holders, sometimes Crafters an' other Weyrs give us, but open enough ta know that screwin' others over ain't the way, either." A look out to where their dragons once stood brings up nothing, and so Alida's gaze shifts around, seeking to locate both blues...which are now entering the water. "Fuckin' fish head..." the woman suddenly scowls and grumps darkly, then giving a deep sigh, shakin her head. Back to business. "Telgar, possibly. We got some Reachian Blood there, too. Fort, as well..." Pause. A few more cogs turn in the blonde's head, have her looking over at Jo with a studying expression. "Please tell me yer not necessarily thinkin' uv' that too-smiley bronzer." Because too smiley. "Irianke's wiley, yeah. I just don't want 'er runnin' this place like it's Igen. Reaches' has its own ways." Stubborn, she. "She's gotta learn ta fuckin' loosen up that over-regard fer rank, too, 'r enough Weyrfolk'll likely wind up tryin' ta nudge 'er out after not too long." And finally she admits, "I talked with 'er a couple uv times not long after she transfered. First time was fine... public, almost kinda' fun. Second time... not so good." Eyeroll, smirkie. "Me an' my charming personality." This time, her eyes cross for a moment. They indeed have much catching up to do, for Tacuseth - as much as he could remember - regales the fellow blue on wild stories of bar fights and quick getaways. "How so?" Jo of course asks for a follow up on situations not involving violence for her wingmate, her interest piqued. She ponders over Alida's words though on new or different blood, only remarking to it, "For the most part, I agree. I am a creature of chaos, however, darlin'. I think it all should be shaken up. I doubt my views would be seen in a positive light." Pause. "I ain' thinkin' 'bout no bronzerider, darlin'," she drawls, and if she succeeds, it's a nudge from her shoulder. "I meant any foreign bronze. It's happened before in Weyrs. As much as some like to think so, the Reaches ain' immuned to some bronze from Benden just sweepin' in an' sweepin' up a Reachian Weyrleadership." On Irianke, she nods to the opinions given, asking, "How was Igen ran? How do ya think she would run it in that way?" Yeah, she's pumping for information as much as the other, openly. Ilicaeth offers back a few stories on this proddy green and that episode of water-skiing, dragon style, that he did over and over again on Monaco's waters, the two blue chums currently as thick as thieves as they begin their fishing jaunt. "How...?" Alida inquires with a hint of uncharacteristic befuddlement, the blonde then quickly remembering, and suddenly pinkening at her cheeks. On to other things! "Guess I'm still a creature uv' law, then...mostly." Maybe-somewhat-kind-of says her only paritally firm tone. "As long as the new Weyrleader wasn't a fuckin' stick in the mud Traditionalist, nor a complete nit-witted, no-spined, slimey git..." Siiigh...and flumph go her hands. "Guess if we could pick an' choose, it'd be a fuckin' shell uv a lot easier." Eyeroll, snerk. "We just need ta start with tryin' ta make sure Cadejoth's far away an' indisposed - 'r K'del's very indisposed - when whoever rises." Pause, peer. "Ya can't mean ya haven't heard uv how Igen's Weyrwoman has everything under 'er thumb, so-ta-speak? Pullin' reins on everyone, runnin' things with eyes everywhere." Ugh. "Don' hold out on me, now, Alida," Jo teases gently, eyeing those pinkening cheeks. "It's more than just law." Onwards to the topic of Weyrleadership, "Folks seem to think it's easy to keep a dragon from doin' what it wants," she lightly states with a look going her way. "Ya should know. How long did'ja try to keep Ilicaeth from chasin'? How did that work out for ya?" But the last gets a nonchalant, "I've only heard snatches. Ya think she's gonna send a spy up to yer weyr, to watch how ya get on or somethin'? There's way 'round everythin', darlin'. I don' fear a big, bag thumb." The look screams of challenge, which is just as well as they're looking ahead, for someone small comes crashing right into the both of them from behind with a "Oof!", darting between them before the kid is running up ahead. She'll keep holding out on Jo, no answer to pinkening cheeks forthcoming. Fuck the 'law,' too right now, since Alida's trying not to let her cheeks pinken again. Silence reigns until word of (the now diving and hunting) Ilicaeth comes up, and the blonde gripes back with some irritation, "Months. DIdn't." Now let it go, or so speaks her expression. As for big bad thumbs, "I prefer ta operate most uv my life in the open, when I can. Don't need ta be lookin' over my fucking shoulder every other moment, thinking a harpy's gonna call me on something'." Grrrr. And then there's a darting kid? Count on Alida to suddenly launch into a run after him after the kid bumped them, the woman barking out an automatic, "Halt!" in no-nonsense tones. Jo doesn't look like she's going to let up. Like a bone being presented to a canine...Either way, she's openly amused when Alida is taciturn by her goading. "Yer gonna turn that lovely hair of yers grey, darlin'," is her comment to all of it before her attention gets snatched - or rather, something on her person feels like it was snatched in that moment for the bluerider immediately pats at something at her side and swears fluently. Since Alida has a head start, "Damn....kid's got somethin' from me!" she's shouting after them, watching as the boy flees away from the docks towards the more crowded area where the bars are. It's clear, once into the marketplace, that the boy would have to slow down or otherwise run some of the people over, so there's a small window where he is capturable before he reaches the end of the crowd. The withering look Alida shoots Jo at that point is all 'Fuck you,' but then there's a thief to attend to. "I know!" Alida barks over her shoulder at Jo when the elder rider speaks of getting something lifted from her, the knowledgeable guard hot on the little bastich's heels, and gaining ground, until he gets into the marketplace. The amount of people growing around them slow her down, but at least the urchin's not running pedestrians over...yet. Pelting her way through the small crowd like the old pro she is, Alida tries an old 'cop' tactic to make a path around her with her drill sergeant-like barks of, "Clear off!" Her intent, almost shapr features and blazing eyes hopefully convince any pain-in-the-ass bystandards to keep well away. The smile Jo sends in return to any glares is quite enigmatic. Still, there's a chase to be had, the boy now jostling through the crowd and using his forearms and elbows to clear a path wide enough for him. Jo is behind Alida, trying to peer over the heads of the crowd as those closest to Alida furtively move away from her call. Still, the boy manages to make it through the market, turning a right turn into a shadowy corner. If Alida manages to get that far around the corner after him, she would find her way blocked by a tall, burly man, glaring her down as an unseen man behind him is heard saying, "Thank you, that's a good lad." Alida is like a cross between a whippet and a bloodhound, not giving a bare inch, even if she has to jostle people who are stupid enough to remain in her path. "Thief!" is barked aloud for added incentive to get the sluggard to move out of her way faster, the blonde rounding that shadowy corner only a handful of second after the kid...and almost running into that burly dude...who seems to be claiming he knows the child. For a moment, the woman hesitates..until she hears someone 'claiming' the thieving lad, and then the 'former' guard is all edges and blunt force trauma, seeking to viciously elbow the big man in her path in the solar plexus, heave him out of her way, and continue pursuit. It's the call of thief that gets the crowd to moving out of the way - more likely trying to ensure that it's not one of them that Alida labels. Jo runs up in time to see her wingmate elbow the large man, to which the man attempts to shove the woman back with enough force that it could land her on her back. "HEY!!" the convict rider calls, now spotting the boy standing with an unfamiliar man that was about to drop the stolen pouch into one of his pockets. Her blade is free in her hand as suddenly as she whistles to get their attention. "Move one more step'n I start decidin' one of y'all are gonna have a nice chat with a good blade of mine." - "You're waiting on Trein, right?" This comes from the old man beside the boy, to which Jo throws a look towards Alida engaged with the burly guard. The old man noticing that too, "Let her go, Mounte. Apologies, dragonrider," he addresses to Alida. "We meant no harm." She was afraid he'd have too much muscle to be downed by a quick elbow jab, and so Alida pivots just enough to sidestep that shove by a bare half-inch, quickly followed up by a lightning-fast little 'dance' of booted feet that allow her to try and bring her solid heel down on big dude's instep. Nobody had much muscle covering those, unless their footwear is metal-reinforced. In the portion of her mind held somewhat aloof from their present situation, the younger bluie hears Jo call out to the thieves and pull her blade - the older man's answering words, but she's dealing with the 'big obstruction' right now...and unless the 'mountain' halts his efforts completely, she'll keep trying to pound him into the ground. Mounte seems eager to parry with this new blonde challenge, his bulk making him not as fast but very powerful. When Alida dances, he seems intent on getting her on her back. Since it looks like neither of them are going to stop, nor Jo was putting her knife away, "Enough!" the old man calls, which this time, as Alida cripples him with that hit to his instep, he stumbles away from her towards the wall, letting his back slap up against it. "How do ya know Trein?" Jo asks in the ensuing silence, her blade held at the ready. "He worked for me," the old man is quick to answer. "He's not working for me anymore." THe pause that follows says what he doesn't say, and the convict rider asks, "Alright. Let's just say I believe that. Why send yer brat to pickpocket me?" - "For a favor." She frowns at that as he gestures towards the boy. "You know my name," and he looks pointedly towards Alida as he doesn't air it. "I need you to find a home for this boy. You've seen what he can do, and I know you know many homes for one like him." Oh shell, no. She's not going to let him get his more powerful paws on her, and Alida is no pushover. Thankfully her instep stomp has the big guy reeling to the wall. The cessation of physical 'activities,' combined with the old man's call and Jo's calm voice have the blonde taking a sudden, large step back from her target, and taking in measured breaths that will quickly snap her out of assault mode...though her adrenaline has yet to ebb. Edgy green eyes flick between her current 'concern' and the small knot of thieves just beyond them, ears perked. Blink. Her cautiously inquiring expression flashed to Jo is obvious: Is this for real? Jo restrains a hand to Alida's arm - or at least tries to as she continues to take in the scene before her. The boy looks no more than 7 turns old, looking like he's been washing in Tillekian waters and have been hanging on the docks as well. She doesn't answer the old man right away, either. Instead, with a look going to her wingmate, "Come here," she commands to the boy. The old man nudges him to move, and once the boy is close to her, she bends to claim his chin firmly with one hand as she examines him for a few moments. Straightening up and releasing him, "I know a place," she states crisply to the men. "They won' take kindly to him pickpocketin' at will, though. If he has discipline in him, then they may take him in. That purse he stole was for Trein." - "That purse he stole was for me," the old man corrects with ease, nodding as the boy is released and returns to him. "I wish we could meet in more proper circumstances, but, seeing as how Trein has managed to land himself in trouble, and in turn, myself...." The bluerider looks annoyed, but she grunts her understanding and takes a step back as she says to Alida, "We should go. I'd rather not be around should his 'trouble' comes 'round this corner." To the men, "Leave the boy on the docks tonight," she tells them. "I'll come 'round, pick'em up. Ya owe me for this." She looks like she wants to say more - much more, even - but she turns then back to the market, looking to Alida to follow as she murmurs to her, "Sorry for the surprise excitement." Deadpan. She allows Jo's restraining touch, Alida's eyes and form slowly returning to pre-chase states, her body held alert but loose, arms somewhat akimbo. She's readied, but subtly. Things can always go bad, after all. Jo's in charge of this unintended 'meeting,' so all the blonde does is stand there, ready, and look like a nice little dragonrider-guard, until the whole conversation's over. She's good at appearing deaf and dumb, though her ears and eyes take in much. When the darker-haired rider gives that signal, the lighter one slips in automatically to her flank, covering their 'retreat' and moving off a-ways before she grins tightly back and utters a light, "Pfft. Feels good." The adrenaline rush, that is. "You look after yer own...again." Wink. Blade gone from her hand now, Jo moves swiftly away from the market back towards the docks with a low curse. "My own?" she lights on that with a look towards the blonde with interest as they move. "I just don' like bein' played with. Just gonna make sure that man owes me big. I wasn' plannin' on comin' back to Tillek tonight," which, might be the main source of her irritation. "I ain' gonna let a kid starve'n shit," she goes on to say. "Anyway," they're back to the docks, away from the crowds of the market and bar as her pace slows and she keeps watch about them at their more leisurely pace. "Yer worried 'bout the leadership back home or was there somethin' really on yer mind?" She switches gears quickly, leading Alida back towards where their dragons are. "Maybe I can buy ya drink down there, eh?" "You know 'im, employed 'im..." Alida chimes in back to Jo, her voice lightly teasing. Tit-for-tat, Jo. There's a nod and a grunt of agreement to word of being fucked with, the younger bluie noting, "I'd offer ta stand in for ya, but..." Shrug. Only Jo knows what Jo wants to do, in this case. There's a hint of approval for the other bluerider in Alida's green eyes, but soon enough, it's back to business again. "Yeah...leadership's the main reason. Ya know that one weyrling - the Igenite with the bronze - well, he might not want the 'leadership, but I think 'is bronze does." A significant look towards Jo is followed by her second bob of plaited head. "Drink sounds good." A mercurial mood shift has 'lida suddenly appearing irritated, a touch embarrassed (sans pink cheeks, this time), and a hint resigned...her alto gruffly noting out of the blue, "I think Pyrite's turnin' proddy." Siiiigh. "Employed by him," Jo corrects with a sardonic tilt to her tone. "But there's power in havin' someone owe ya a favor. Especially someone even with a lil' bit of influence. It's alright," she says on the stand in, shaking her head as they walk. "I'll do it. He's not that good a pickpocket, which might be in his favor." Back to business, though - of the Weyr kind. "I never met him," she says of the weyrling bronzerider. "What's yer opinion on the boy? The man? K'del was young when he first became Weyrleader." It's something that has her mulling over Alida's words, even, enough for her to say, "Maybe I should check him out sometime." She leads them towards a small tavern on the docks, pausing to order them ales before picking out a table close to the entrance. It's there that she regards the blonde steadily at the reveal, nodding once before she says, "Been awhile, hasn' it? I have friends that would be grateful for some of her eggs," but really, this is not about the resulting clutch and it shows on her face as she watches Alida carefully. "That's somethin' else I'll blame on Pyrite...fuckin' distractibility..." Alida notes of her getting Jo's order of 'employment' wrong, the blonde looking faintly irked. "Tis true..." is murmured of having people owe you, Alida nodding softly, then noting to Jo's inquiry about Z'kiel, "Dunno very much...but, as first 'feel,' I'd say he's got potential fer leadership, yeah. One uv' the Cirrus wingseconds, these days. I'll tag 'im a young man until 'e gives me reason not ta." Shrug. "Z'kiel's cautious mixed with wild...again, only from what I observed, what my gut says. Tough enough, maybe even thoughtful." What Jo makes of the guard's observations is up to her. Still... "Think ya should. We need as many options in this arena as we c'n get." The 'Weyrleader' debacle. Soon enough, when they're at the tavern Jo chooses - and seated at the table, with Alida ever-facing the door - the guard bobs her head once, one hand straying to the back of her neck to rub a little at her tacit admission. "Like I said, y've up ta three eggs, dependin' on the final number an' Pyrite's mood. No fuckin' way she'll allow anybody but her mate, me, an' Ilicaeth anywhere near 'em ta take a few until they're practically wobblin'." Eyeroll. Maternal instincts are such a pain! During her sip of her ale, green eyes creep cautiously over to Jo as the other bluie watches her...and once more, Alida again pinkens just a hint. Damn it! "Z'kiel," Jo seems to taste the name, putting it away to memory. "Hmm. Yes, it's good to have such options, darlin'. Someone that can match Irianke, I think." There's a slight smirk on clutches, nodding once to that as she says, "Very well. They'll be pleased with whatever I can give'em. I appreciate the early warnin'," she notes now, though her voice drops a bit at the end as she continues to study her and her pink cheeks in the following pause. Then the bar tender comes by with their mugs of ales, and she takes a drink right there and waits for the man to be long gone before she asks, point-blank, "Ya want me there, Alida?" "He might have thoughts uv 'is own on bein' 'leader, if 'is bronze grabs the gold..." Alida quietly 'warns' Jo, but not from any sense of foreboding. More directly, and about the eggs, "Just make certain they go ta people who're good with animals an' such. 'Cause if I ever hear uv' anyone mistreatin' one uv' Pyrites..." The small clench of her non-drink-bearing hand into a fist promises unpleasantness. Blink. Oh. She was caught up in an emotional moment. Unable to look directly at Jo, the blonde instead finds something to pick out of her drink, flick away, while muttering, "Yeah." "If his bronze is ready to chase when the time comes," Jo seems to note on Z'kiel with a slight shrug. "Some dragons take forever before they're interested in chasin'. What's the vibe Ilicaeth gets from him?" As to the mistreatment of the fire lizards, there's a shake of her head before saying, "They ain' into harmin' somethin' far too useful, baby," is her resonse to that, taking her mood swings in stride. Still, with Alida not looking at her, she's definitely looking at Alida enough to catch that answer. There's a slight deciding nod from the convict rider before she answers in turn, "Yer gonna fight me again?" There's just the barest flicker of amusement to accompany that. "True, that..." Alida allows, then smirking dryly. "Ilicaeth wasn' interested until some months after he was two. Nearly two an a half." Shrug- sigh. "Bastard makes up fer 'is late start with chasin' enough." Eyeroll. "'Caeth dunno much uv 'is bronze. Guy said he was kinda like Rasavyth in ways, though." Lovely. "Not as...oily, though. Plans, ambitions, though." Sip. "Useful. People c'n be cruel by bein' negligent uv' a pet's emotional needs too." So what might that say of Pyrite, who seems to mostly-enjoy her 'owner?' Jo's next comment, however, has Alida reacting without thinking, for a moment, self-defensively bristling at the darker rider, green eyes narrowed as if she's readying herself for fisticuffs right now. And then she's quickly subsiding, looking put out and somewhat embarrassed while trying to cover it all with a sip of alcohol. "Only if I feel I need ta." "Tacuseth was roarin' out the gate," Jo relates on their dragon with a thin-lipped look. She takes in the information on the weyrlng bronze with mild interest, nodding a few times before she states on another bronze, "Rasavyth has changed. Tacuseth doesn' taste that, anymore." There's a pregnant pause before she watches Alida's reaction to the idea of fighting again, the corner of her subtle grin lifting as she drinks. "It's alright if ya like it rough," she tells her, a small playfulness in her tone. "We can fight until we don' have control anymore. Reckon Mime'll catch her again. I'll be around." It's her acceptance, seeming far more open to the idea than her wingmate (or at least bolder for it). "Lucky you..." Alida quips blandly, then looking straight at Jo to hear this news of Rasavyth. She doesn't say anything, but the look the blonde gives Jo is 'I'll believe it when and if I see it.' As for word of fighting...suddenly Alida again shifts moods, the woman looking a little weary in some respects. "I dun' want every fuckin' thing ta be a fight." Sip. "Fightin' all the time gets...tirin'." A small duck of chin presages her quiet, "Don' wanna be vyin' fer everything, like who's on top 'r whatever's some fucking prize." Squint, frown. "Why can't we be equals?!" "Not so," is Jo's counter on being lucky. The look Alida sends her gets a nod before she answers to it, "Dragon's been awfully tame, darlin'. Plenty of opportunities he could've taken. He hasn'. My blue finds that curious. Or Significant." But then, Alida's mood shifts and the words that acommpanies them earns a quiet, "Ain' gotta fight, Alida. I prefer not fightin' ya at all." Admitting it, the bluerider gives a half-hearted shrug and a, "Can't control much in a flight, darlin'," in note. "But we are equals. How else can we be?" "Tongue-in-cheek..." Alida notes wryly of Tacuseth's horniness and Jo's take on it, then quieting to listen to what the other bluie has to say of Rasavyth. "Could be some kinda' feint..." Shrug. "S'not like we give a shit about 'em, anyway...unless they're gonna' be 'leadin' this Weyr." That thought makes the guard's skin crawl some. But there's much more important and private things to occupy the woman's mind right now, and when Jo assures her contemporary that they are indeed equals, 'lida remains silent, observing her wingmate for some moment before offering, "Even in bed." There's a faint hint of bristling in that, but much more cautious observance. Jo laughs at the comment on Tacuseth as she downs some of her ale, but speaks on Rasavyth with an easy, "It would be a change, at least." She can't hide the smile on that front for long, but it's the latter topic that draws her attention, the woman, considering her wingmate before she nods and says, "I'm a pretty versatile lover, darlin'. Whatever ya need. Even in bed." She briefly raises her mug towards her before draining it down to the last drop. Word of the rider/dagon pair she fell out with Turns ago is not currently the topic that holds Alida's mind, the blonde remaining silent until the more pertinent topic is once more broached. Around her own, next sips of ale is quietly murmured, "Know you are... just didn' know you weren't tryin' ta...put one over on me, somehow." In the sack. Because fuck it all if Alida ever allows anyone to get the best of her... especially in emotionally 'vulnerable' situations. Her own mug is polished off soon after, with the guard quietly adding on, "But what does Jo really like?" "I ain' tryin' to make ya my mare," Jo remarks wryly with a grin and a dropped chin. "Shit, I'm just used to, ya know, bein' the aggressor. With women. Not bein' that...It takes a lot of trust, right?" It is indeed a delicate subject, though the convict rider doesn't seem to be struggling that much in explaining it. "I ain' used to lettin' women control me in bed," she says it bluntly. "It's where I feel comfortable, see. I know how to please. To give. It's a lil' difficult bein' in the position to take, ya know?" But as for what she likes, "I do like toppin'," she admits it with a single nod, idly playing with the rim of her mug. "But if I really trust the person...I ain' tryin' to put one over on ya. Not even then." Listening quietly, looking at Jo with the eyes of someone simultaneously much older aqnd much younger, Alida finally winds up nodding softly to much that the other bluerider has to say. Admission for admission: "I ain't used ta allowin'...men ta control me, that way. Nor much uv anyone else." Sigh, frown. "I guess I like... give an' take both equally." She controls her urge to blush, this time, pushes on with, "Yeah... rougher on me, too, allowin' anyone ta...'give.'" No shit, sherlock. There sounds like an echo in their private little space as the younger bluie leans towards Jo very slowly, and murmurs cautiously, "But if I really trust the person... 'M not tryin' ta pull one over on ya." Under the table, one hand carefully finds Jo's knee, squeezes, while her other mitt moves more overtly upon table's top, seeking to grip her wingmate forearm in the traditional dragonrider squeeze of equals. Whispered, with that silly pink blush again, "Let's go home. My weyr." Jo doesn't interrupt her. Every word and nuance gets her scrutiny, and so the convict rider nods on giving and taking - the agreement more in the incline of her head than in words. It's only when Alida leans over and finds her knee that the woman's forearm is easily gripped. "'N ya trust me?" It's asked in all seriousness, knowing her wingmate's history. The answer doesn't matter, really, for the black leathered rider slides to her feet at the given offer, only sweeping a glance about them before she gestures with her chin for them to go. "If ya sure," she at least states, giving the blonde a way out or a change of mind as she studies that blush with open interest. "Ya know we ain' gotta prove anythin' to each other." There's no teasing for once, the convict rider stepping away from the table. Seriously, though still with some blush - but for once no bluster and swagger - Alida answers low, "I trust ya enough." Her mouth hitches into a half-smile, the blonde knowing full well that Jo and she are both aware of each others' trust issues. She's moving to her feet in tandem with Jo, looking around in the opposite direction, like a fellow wingman should...watching each others' back on the ground, as well as the sky. "Nothin' ta prove..." is noted quietly as they both move away, and finally back outside...towards where both blue dragons are finally emerging from the water...Ilicaeth giving himself a massive pair of shakes - much like a dog - to rid himself of as much water as possible. This time, Alida's trying to snag an arm about Jo's waist on their way to their lifemates, listening to her own blue's mental commentary as he speaks to both Tacuseth and the blonde. « I think the little fishhere 'r more salty. » Burp! « Tasty, though, bro. » The feeling that he's very proud of and glad for his rider that's she slowly overcoming another hurdle - and better yet, with Jo! - melds near-seamlessly into the laughter of mind for the great squirting gush of water 'caeth spits out of his mouth towards Tacuseth. Dragon squirt-gun! "Enough," Jo echoes that last before a low chuckle escapes. "That's good enough, I 'spose." Once out of the tavern and towards their dragons, the arm about her waist getting a squeeze from her as Tacuseth emerges from the waters as well. « They missed it all, 'course, » he sends right back to his wingmate, keeping enough away to flap his wings and dry himself somewhat. "Thanks a lot, Tac," Jo calls to the fishy smell on the dragons, the dragons still as damp as ever for the flight Between - even through their playing. Dry, "So a bath will be in order as well, too," she remarks to Alida as they reach their respective dragons. shaking her head as she prepares to take the flight back to the Weyr. There's a small smirk and a nod for their natures - and Jo's answer - Alida leaning into Jo at the other's squeeze to her arm, the woman laughing low at their dragons' antics. "Phew!" is assessed of the pair with anchovy-like scented hides and breath, Alida disengaging from her wingmate only after a sudden and quick kiss is attempted, the blonde then skittering towards her half-dry dragon as she calls, "Two baths." One before, to get de-fished, and one... after.