Logs:Getting a H'kon to Talk, Experiment 2
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| RL Date: 24 October, 2013 |
| Who: H'kon, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'kon's having an eventful night and is subjected to another one of Tayte's experiments. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 1, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions |
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| Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life.
It's a freshly-washed H'kon who's hungry enough to want the stew leftovers, making a straight line from the inner caverns (and baths beyond) right up until one of those women looks at him, clucks her tongue, and makes some sort of comment that dulls the appetite. Stewless and looking almost fit to have a black scribble over his head to match his furrowed brow, he redirects for the nighthearth, and helps himself to a chair. Presumably, Tayte's not been recognised as someone who might speak to him. People-watching makes Tayte attentive to comings and goings, especially when H'kon cameos on the scene she's observing unfold. A single brow lifts curiously, and she uncoils her cozy position, setting her klah mug onto the table beside her chair. Her smile is too nice for the harpies by the stew pot as she approaches, and then oops! She trips right into one of them, swearing convincingly and apologizing as the woman shrieks and fusses over the hot (but not scalding) stew that's all down her dress. She was dressed for attention and everything. "I'm so sorry, dear. I'm sure it'll come right out." Tayte says to the woman and her companion as they head off casting the bartender hateful looks, and leaving behind the second woman's bowl of stew. Lonely stew bowls won't do though, so she turns with it to H'kon, asking innocently, "Hungry, H'kon?" Shrieking is a hard thing to ignore, even for H'kons with set expressions who are trying to ignore the world, and centre themselves, and tune out obnoxious replays of recent green flights being projected into their heads. So this H'kon winces a bit, and makes his glower the more personal as he aims it for the- bowl of stew in front of him. The answer to such an offer is not immediately forthcoming. H'kon blinks at the stew. Blinks at the woman. And finally nods his head faintly and gives, "Tayte," as his sole response, left to her interpretation. Tayte surrenders the stew bowl to the brownrider with a pleasant smile before turning to find the rags and to clean up the remainder of the spilt bowl, sinking down onto her knees to slop the solid bits back into the over-turned bowl and then mop up the bit of stock on the floor. "Having a pleasant evening?" She inquires as she works, the question posed most casually. Another nod will serve as thanks, though the bowl remains in the brownrider's lap once he's taken it. Eyes follow Tayte only briefly as she drops down, and then H'kon is once again staring straight ahead. Except this time, his fingers have the edge of a spoon to probe lightly. "Some might say." "As it happens, I wasn't asking some. I was asking you. Shall I make sure to address my inquiries to you by name in the future so we can skip this middle step where I clarify?" Tayte's alto holds dry humor as she soaks the rag and goes over the spot on the floor once more. "If you'd rather, I could ask what those two were on about and why you got that sort of look from them," Look. Clucking. Same same, only different, "But I thought you might prefer if I went with a vague, polite question instead." She wrings out the rag into the small bucket. H'kon has had far too much tongue action from far too many women for one night, thank you. The clucking just darkens up his features that extra shade of grim. He digs, purposefully, into the bowl of stew, takes the bite, and once he's done, inclines his head, not quite apology, but acknowledgement at least. "It has been an eventful evening. And you." Tayte might be inclined to stick out her tongue at H'kon, only she likely wouldn't want to compound the problem, if she's aware of it. Instead, the bartender is checking the spot over once more for thoroughness' sake and rising. "Quite quiet for me, as it happens. No bar shift today, so I put in a full day at the workroom. Winter really is the most convenient time for my research." Much as it pains her to admit it, says the wrinkle of her nose that causes the freckles to fold together. "How is Madilla doing? I've been meaning to stop by." But apparently hasn't. "Your research," H'kon prompts, polite, more than cautious. But a bit cautious too. Another bite of stew, and another to follow it, his appetite barging its way through whatever other baggage he might carry. "Madilla," frown, "is well. Was, as of yesterday." About her research: "Yes." That's all. Apparently, Tayte's back to this game. She doesn't reclaim her seat, but instead shifts to stand near, but not too near where H'kon sits with his meal. Her brows furrow slightly, and blue eyes rest on the brownrider's face. "If she's well, why are you frowning?" Perhaps she really does need to get in a visit with Madilla, and soon. H'kon finds it a touch more difficult to eat when he's being watched the way Tayte's watching him. "No, it- she's well." It's more decisive, even if it hasn't smoothed his forehead out any. "I've not seen her today." As if that should explain everything. "Thank you for the stew," comes next, "even if it was won... strangely." "Women play strange games." Tayte notes before swallowing down the rest of her klah, "And I don't take kindly to judgmental fools clucking at my friends. Especially over something so silly and ultimately inconsequential as a green flight." She rolls her eyes a little before moving to place her mug in the try of dirty dishes. H'kon hears out all Tayte has to say, the beginnings of a sigh coming at the word 'flight', but stopped just as soon. "Strange indeed," agrees to the lot of it, and after a quick, careful look over that bartending woman over there, he turns his full attention to his stew. As Tayte turns back away from the dishes, she quirks an amused look at the almost-sigh, "Best wishes for an uneventful rest of your night." She offers lightly as she heads off, doing her part to fulfill that wish by leaving him to his stew. |
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