Logs:Even
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| RL Date: 28 August, 2014 |
| Who: K'del, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin has an excellent idea. |
| Where: Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 8, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
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| Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr About as high up the bowl wall as it is possible to get before hitting clear sky, right up against the rim, this ledge is tiny, narrow and not terribly inviting. Though angled towards the sun, there's not enough room to properly stretch out, and that same angle ensures it receives the worst of bad weather, with no shelter whatsoever. From above, there's not even an obvious passage inside, as if this particular ledge is, in the end, nothing more than a natural outcropping. It's only from atop the ledge itself that the cleverly concealed entrance becomes clear, angled into the stone as it is. Inside, there's a cavernous space, more than making up for the stinginess of the ledge. There's one large main room, and a much smaller back room that could probably be used as a bedroom - if this weyr were in traditional usage. Instead, the main cavern is largely filled with a collection of mismatched tables and chairs. Towards the back, there's a bar made out of old, recycled wood, manned during peak hours; there's plenty of alcohol on display behind it, though most of it tends towards the cheaper end of the range. Old, but still impressive, hangings cover the walls, all depicting scenes of High Reaches in glory. The back room has been turned into a storage area, with several cases of whisky and a variety of other spirits ready and waiting. A strange pipe contraption comes through the ceiling and towards the stone floor, where a large bucket sits beneath it. A lever turns on water from the pipe: fresh rain or snow, ready for drinking. It's late evening, and with Telgar Hold's gather attracting those with free time, the rider's lounge is a rather quiet locale tonight. The only Savannah representative making a showing tonight is R'hin, settling down at an empty table away from the handful of people present. Moments before, after Leiventh emerged from between, he took a circling path past the Weyrleader's ledge, cold wintry winds reaching out towards Cadejoth in invitation. Whether he (or rather, his rider) accepts the wordless invitation, the Savannah Wingleader's secured a bottle and glasses in preparation either way. Instead of attending the gather, K'del has been at the Weyr for most of the day, venturing out in the early afternoon to a location unknown. The invitation, however, wordless as it is, draws him out; out of his weyr, and then, atop Cadejoth, up to the lounge. Illuminated in the doorway, K'del casts a thoughtful glance about the room, considering the bar - manned, tonight, by a cheerful greenrider from Avalanche - and then the tables, one after another, finally concluding on R'hin. "Good thing we've worked out how to interpret Leiventh," he comments, swinging long legs into the seat opposite. Even as the Weyrleader enters, R'hin's filling a glass of white near to the brim in anticipation of his arrival. The bronzerider's chuckling as he nudges the glass closer to where K'del takes a seat. "Leiventh figures why waste words -- he's the soul of brevity, when it's other people," the bronzerider's lips twist, as he fills the glass closer to him. "Didn't get out to the gather?" he guesses, his gaze flickering over the other rider's garb -- his own flight jacket is tossed carelessly on the seat next to his, his own clothing rather plain. "But not you?" K'del's curious, in an easy kind of way, asking that even as he reaches for his glass, acknowledging its presence with a bob of his head. "Not this time, no. Too much to do, between the Weyr and the vines, though," his mouth twists, "it's not like I'm anything but in the way there, realistically. Just like feeling involved. You?" Clearly, he doesn't trust the plainness of R'hin's garb to suggest anything either way. "I bear the brunt of his many and varied thoughts," R'hin replies with low-throated chuckle. He lifts his glass, and with an unspoken toast, takes a sip, leaning back in his chair. "A quick visit. Business more than pleasure, one might say," a quick, brief grin. "So," he produces a mark from within one of his pockets, casually flipping it over the fingers of his left hand. "You want the brilliant idea," he shows the face of the mark piece, "Or the problem-to-be-solved first?" He flips the coin over, "Or should we leave it to chance?" K'del's, "Lucky you," is dryly amused, and still relatively cheerful, though his eyes are already on that mark, and then on the other bronzerider himself; he sucks in a breath, hesitantly. "Chance," he decides, after a moment. "If I'm going to hear the whole thing regardless. Flip it, and let's see." He is going to take a long drink from his glass, rather as though he expects to need it in order to proceed. With a grin, R'hin leans forward to set his glass down, switching the mark piece to his right hand before flipping it into the air. It tumbles, end over end, before he catches it and quickly slaps it against the back of his other hand. The number, rather than the face, shows, and he grimaces briefly before tucking it away. "K'zin," he says, plainly. "Apparently he is bored, so had Telavi approach me and ask me for missions. Clearly you're not keeping him occupied enough," there's a wry twist of lips. "I don't particularly see a place for him in Savannah, nor for keeping him occupied, but..." he shrugs. "He's yours. How do you want to play this?" All it takes is mention of the younger bronzerider's name for K'del's expression to turn into a grimace. "If it helps," he says. "Pretty sure he's been helping out with the weyrlings, since Iesaryth's clutch. Night shifts or something, maybe; not entirely sure." Either way, there's a shake of his head and, "If you don't think he's Savannah material, that's all there is to it. It's important, what you do." "He got his girl to come and ask," R'hin says, like that's all the answer K'del's latter statement requires. "If you've got something you need followed up that isn't that... sensitive, I can send him on it like it's Savannah business....?" K'del glares into his glass for a moment, then drowns the expression in another sip. "Mmm," he agrees. "That's... maybe that could work, yes. Reckon I can come up with something. He did ask me for things to do, months back, and I... wasn't up for it. But this could work better. Not that I think he's not capable, just..." Not, apparently, in the Savannah way. Or the Weyrleader way. "Idle hands, ecetera. Best keep him away from Tillek, whatever the case. Let me know what you come up with and I'll... suggest it via Telavi, like some game of harper he-said-she-said," R'hin says, dryly. Gulping back a mouthful of the wine, he leans forward. "So, onto bigger problems. The core problem. What is Tillek is most upset about -- at the core?" His voice drops, considerably, though doesn't lose its intensity. "Losing ships, right? What if the Weyr contributed to giving them back?" Lucky Telavi; K'del's expression comments on it, even if his mouth stays closed, lips pressed together. In any case, he's significantly more interested in the topic that follows, leaning forward with interest, which brings his face rather closer to the other bronzerider's (in a completely platonic way, of course). "Giving them back?" he repeats, dully. "I don't...?" A pause. Then: "Go on." R'hin spreads his hands for a moment, grandly, "Say, I don't know, instead of taking a full tithe this Turn we propose that High Reaches Hold tithes us ships, and we gift them to Tillek?" A beat. "Or what if we send some of the candidates who don't impress, and some of our younger weyrfolk to Tillek to help the Seacraft build more ships there? Either way, we wouldn't be able to completely compensate them for the ones that they've lost, but it's not about that -- right now this is a war about public image -- and the Weyr is losing. It's that," he snaps his fingers, "Or serve them a score of pirates and their ships to order, and I take it that part isn't going so well?" There's only the faintest twist of K'del's expression to answer that query on the status of the pirate situation - and, in any case, he's clearly far more focused on this idea of R'hin's. "No, no," he says. "That's ideal. As a gesture, it makes perfect sense; a show of good faith. Either option. And," the corners of his mouth twist into something closer to a smile, "since we've been taking on extra work assisting with deliveries for people too afraid to ship by sea, it's not as though we'll end up too short, if we change the tithe. We'll have the pirates done with by spring, but this buys up some more time. It's perfect." Looking pleased, R'hin leans back more comfortably, taking another gulp of the wine. "Good, good. You do your thing," he says with a certain glibness, like negotiating all that will be easy -- or at least not his problem -- "And Savannah'll make sure to spread the good word," the Wingleader says, ruefully. "And then we can spent more time at home." He rubs his stubble of a beard, with a grin. "Leiventh doesn't mind sleeping outdoors after so long at Monaco, nor do the other dragons. But I've started to miss seeing my bed every night. Getting old, I guess." K'del swirls his own glass before sipping from it: once very quickly, and then a second time much more slowly, the wine lingering on his tongue for several seconds before he swallows. "You take pleasure in not having to do all the official stuff," he says, with a sigh; it's an observation rather than an accusation. "Well, and I can't blame you, I guess." Those blue eyes of his consider R'hin, his head shaking. "Old. Don't know about that. Though I'll grant you, there's something to be said for a comfortable bed. You know, I hope, how much I appreciate it." "I definitely don't miss it," R'hin agrees, laughingly, spreading his hands as if K'del's caught him out. "You, on the other hand, did," he reminds the Weyrleader, none too slyly. "And, I'll be sure to let the Wing know of your appreciation." His voice turns sober, serious all of a sudden. "We haven't forgotten you took us in, when you didn't have to. When you'd have been within your rights to say no in favor of looking to your own." "Mm," agrees K'del. "And I would again, were Hraedhyth to fly elsewhere, the next time she rises. Maybe I'll never be ready to let it go for good; who can say." It leaves him thoughtful for long moments, gaze flicking elsewhere around the room before, finally, it returns to Savannah's wingleader. "Knew you'd pay for yourselves, one way or another," he says, calmly. "And you have. We'll just have to call it even." R'hin's head tips, though he doesn't look overly surprised at K'del's thoughtful words. "Cadejoth will certainly have plenty of competition, if last time is anything to judge by. Leiventh," a grin, abrupt and brief, "Seems confident in your bronze, at least." And at that last, the Savannah Wingleader leans forward to offer his hand, still serious, "Then even it is. Shall we drink to it?" K'del's teeth gleam as he says, "Leiventh has good taste. Hopefully, he's right. Better that than... Lythronath, for one. Reisoth for another." The list of possibilities that would be significantly worse than Cadejoth could go on for some time, but K'del limits himself to just the two; for now. His hand meets R'hin's towards the middle of the table, and, grip firm, he nods. "Most certainly. To being even-- and to future ventures." "He did pick me," R'hin appears to agree with K'del's assessment of Leiventh's good taste. After a brief, firm grip, he stretches for his glass, grinning: "To future ventures." Several swallows of the wine later, he says oh-so-casually: "I hear Keroon's gather is tomorrow. You should take your Weyrwoman -- she needs to get out, I suspect, and it'd give her a chance to catch up with her family while she's at it." That comment, that first one, makes K'del laugh -- but not so much that he can't quickly turn his attention to his drink, and the several sips necessitated. He's still got his glass lifted when R'hin continues, at which point he pauses, mouth hanging just barely open for several seconds before, "Mmm. Not a bad idea. She'll probably not think to go on her own; she usually doesn't. And family... family is important. Thank you." "Just don't have her back too late," R'hin doesn't really manage to play the dad role all that well, truth be told, considering he's chuckling as he does so. Draining the rest of his glass, he taps the bottle, still mostly full, leaving it on the table. "I'm going to have a bath and crawl into my bed. If I remember the way. If not, well..." he shrugs a little, as he pushes to his feet. "If I forgot to mention... that bar was such a good idea." He's grinning as he reaches down for his jacket. K'del's mouth twitches. "Yes, sir," he says, mock-dutiful. His fingers wrap more snugly about his own glass as he leans back in his chair, regarding the other bronzerider; he's plainly amused. "Pretty sure it was your idea," he says, with a laugh. "But it was, wasn't it? Good luck in finding your bed, R'hin. I'll... be in touch, over that thing." R'hin has the grace to act surprised: "Was it? Huh," like he'd forgotten. With a jaunty salute by way of answer, he strolls towards the ledge, just in time to meet Leiventh as the bronze sweeps down from the rim to collect him. |
Comments
Roz (10:11, 29 August 2014 (EDT)) said...
Oh man oh man oh man. That was /good stuff/.
Reisoth (11:03, 29 August 2014 (EDT)) said...
« I'm offended by the notion of being grouped to this extent with the likes of Lythronath. »
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