Logs:Girls Liking Girls
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| RL Date: 3 July, 2011 |
| Who: Emmeline, Riorde, Taikrin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Girl gossip about what happened after Iovniath's flight, with unexpected confessions. And then Taikrin shows up. |
| Where: Snowasis, HRW |
| When: Day 11, Month 2, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Celadion/Mentions, G'brion/Mentions |
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| It's fairly early in the morning, so although the Snowasis is always busy, it isn't crowded enough that there's not a few comfy chairs in secluded but visible spots. And that's where Emme is currently sitting. A comfy chair near another comfy chair, near a table that she can rest her klah while she's half curled up and reading about musical theory. Not actually her favorite subject, but she's fascinated enough that her eyes are pinned to the page. Stomping the snow from the night before off her boots, Riorde steps inside and begins the process that has become familiar though not quite rote - unwinding her scarf, pulling her mittens off from the fingers, taking off her hat and shaking out her hair. The coat comes next, hung up on a coat-hook by the door. She extracts a book from the coat pocket, stuffing the pocket with her winter accoutrements in exchange. She gets herself a mug of klah, and when her casual scan turns up Emmeline, heads right over. "Hey," she says, needing no invitation to claim the chair one over. No invitation ever required for Riorde! Emmeline smiles at the familiar voice before she even used a ribbon to mark her place in the book, close it, set it down, and then look over at her friend with a welcoming grin. "Hey you. It's been awhile since we've had a chance to talk. So much to do, and all that kinda thing. How are you? Settling in any better?" she wonders, hopeful. "Don't stop for me, if you don't want to." Riorde begs off the attention, waving her own book. "I can read too." She sticks her feet on the table rather than curling up like Emmeline has, forgetting that her fur-lined boots are wet on the bottoms. "Oh, you know," she replies, vague about the settling in thing and skipping right along. "Heard you got accepted into the harpers. How is it?" "I need a break from the reading. It's music theory. You know I prefer the other aspects of harpering." Emme replies, though she pulls the book back into her lap at least. It might be to protect it from those wet boots. Since, her cup of klah is quickly retrieved as well. "It's good. It's hard work, so it's really good. Keeps my mind occupied." But don't think that being vague sets her off course. Cause... "I know...? That's not really an answer." Riorde leaves her own book in her lap and holds her klah for the warmth at first rather than sipping from it. "Sounds perfect for you," she states with a smile. "You'll be a - what's it called? - journeyman in no time." She shrugs and turns it into a resettling, overheating now that she's indoors and starting to pull off her jumper, putting the klah down first. "Just not quite sure what to do with myself," she expands her answer, voice muffled as the jumper goes over her head. Emmeline snorts a little, disbelieving, even while she flushes a bit at the confidence her friend seems to have in her abilities. "Have you considered maybe trying one of the kitchen crafts? You never seemed to mind when it was your turn to help with the cooking. And you were plenty better at it then some others, like myself." she prompts, hoping to be helpful. "Or is that not what you meant." "I do not want to spend the rest of my life slaving over a cookfire," Riorde states quite firmly, giving her friend a hard stare for the suggestion. "Though," relenting, "the thought had crossed my mind. I don't know, I thought maybe they might take me on here." She waves a hand at the bar staff. "Except that I don't know anything about their drinks, really. The last time I tried it --" Inexplicably, she reddens. Emmeline holds up her hands in a mock defending gesture of 'please don't hurt me', accompanied by a grin. "Sorry! Sorry... I can see why you wouldn't want anywhere near it. I ues I just thought of it because Ani seems so happy continuing to help with the children now." she admits, glancing over at the bar staff when Riorde brings her attentin to them. "Well there's an idea. Wait, what happened last time you tried their drinks?" She saw that red. Yes she did! No holding back now! Riorde studies her fingernails - bitten, distinctly unpretty - before she picks up her klah again and resettles in her chair. "It was, um. What do you call it. Turnover." She glances at Emmeline, the colour in her cheeks slow to fade, her expression is expectant. Surely Emmeline gets it. If Emme stares for a moment, surely it can be forgiven. Really. Then she glances down into her own cup of klah, and back up at Riorde, and then over at the bar staff. And then maybe she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair. "Yeah. I remember Turnover. Well, sort of remember Turnover." she mumbles. "So..." cough. "You too, huh?" Riorde looks away too, once understanding passes between her and Emmeline in the look shared. She watches one of the women working as the brunette cleans up a nearby table and sips her klah. Riorde largely looks brooding. "Sort of remember," she echoes the harper. "But there are things I don't." She glances back finally and leans in, conspiratorial. "Tell you mine if you tell me yours." Like they were girls again, daring each other to do something they thought dangerous. "Things you'd sure like to remember, and then decide maybe it's better if you don't?" Emme prompts, still looking into her cup as if the way the klah kind of sits there is utterly fascinating. She bites on her lower lip a bit at the conspiratorial suggestion, and after a moments hesitation leans in further anyway. "I.. uhm. Not sure who she was." the harper whispers, then turning several shades of red. Because... yes, Riorde heard right. It was a she, and her friend at least, knows very well that the harper has heretofore only expressed an overt interest in the opposite gender. Or at least only outwardly expressed an interest in. "Something like that," Riorde admits. She definitely picks up on the pronoun, watching Emmeline blush with a particularly intent expression. "It seems like," she states casually after allowing a significant pause, "more things are considered acceptable here then they ever back there." She sounds more interested than judgmental when she goes on to inquire, "What was it like?" "There's a lot of things acceptable here that weren't back on the Island." Emme agrees, finding that a safer subject to latch on to. At least for the moment. As for what it was like? There's a few blinks at that, while she considers how to answer. "I... well. Wait, who'd you wind up with?" she wonders first. Cause she's under the impression Ri already knows what it's like! Riorde has a funny, nearly rueful half-smile to concede the point that it's her turn to share. "Well," she starts off, turning her mug in her hands, "there was a rider, but she left." A glance at Emmeline as she waits for recognition of the gender mentioned. "Then, I don't know, I must've had more of something," a wave towards the bar to indicate liquor, "or sharing it with someone - a guy." All of a sudden these distinctions become important in a way she's never had to clarify before. She delivers the rest low and fast, gaze restless and unfixed on Emmeline, though she darts her looks every now and again. "The next morning my head just felt like it was splitting open. And I had these bruises - I think I fell down - but I'm not entirely sure." Emmeline returns the glance with a look of understanding. Both for the gender disinction and the whole leaving thing. "I had no idea where I even was when I woke up. It certainly wasn't with anyone beside me." Which was confusing, considering the half-formed memories she had. The furrow in her brow suggests that she's thought about this a whole lot to date. "So wait. You were with... two people? Or just the one, and then you were drinking with the guy?" Yes, this does need to be clarified. And then there's a pause. "You had bruises? What about... scratches. You have any of those? Cause I gotta tell you, I don't think you got those bruises by falling down." she whispers, definitely not wanting to say that too loud. Riorde gives Emmeline the sort of look that suggests that she's starting to consider all this sharing a bad idea. "I had a drink with the first. She left. Then there was the guy, and it all gets a bit confusing - I mean, the whole thing was confusing, when you get down to it." Until the final comment, Riorde speaks with precise detachment. As for the bruises: "The thought had crossed my mind," she replies dryly, and says nothing about scratches. "But," she adds carefully, with a glance out to make sure no one's listening, "I wasn't - hurt. I heard some people were." The islander quarters were in an uproar for days. There were rumours. "What, I'm not... I'm just curious!" Emme explains, fending off the look with a contrite expression. "So, you might not even know who... " Girl, or guy? And here the harper thought she had some confusing things to think about! With no confirmation of injury other then bruises, she just sort of glances around guilelessly as if she hadn't suggested it as a possibility. "I... yeah. I heard that too. I wasn't hurt either. Really, aside from the headache and the.. er, well, I wasn't really hurt." is settled on. "It's kinda. It's... I don't even know what to say because it's too confusing to think about. And that makes no sense, does it." "Oh, I know who," Riorde settles on with certainty. "At least, if I see him again, I will." She gives up on trying to straighten out the mess that was her Turnover for Emmeline. In a way there's nothing to straighten out - the whole Weyr was awash with knots of people coming together for a time before going their separate ways. She finishes her klah but hesitates to get anyone's attention for a refill. "I've decided it's better not to think about, really, just like it's better not to know any names." "I guess I'd know too if I saw her." Emme kind of agrees, though she sounds a little unsure. "At least we weren't hurt like some of the others, right?" she adds, encouragingly. "Are you upset by it? What happened, I mean." There's more to the question then meets the eye, likely. But the harper's voice seems strictly curious. "I don't have to deal with it, really, since apprentice rules mean I can't drink or... uhm, any of that other stuff. But you?" "Am I upset?" Riorde considers the question, frowning a little at it. "No. I don't think so. There's nothing to be upset about; it was...nothing." Riorde sounds comfortable with that. She leans forward again, elbows on her knees, and looks out at the rest of the room, hair slipping over her shoulder, before back at Emmeline. "So," she wonders, a return to collusion, "who in here...?" Emmeline nods once, slowly. As if she agrees, but isn't quite sure why. It's the question that makes her smile. A smile that grows into a conspiratorial smirk as she shifts into her chair and tilts her head towards Riorde. "There's a guy over by the patio. Green shirt, black hair. Hot." she confirms, and then glances back over her shoulder towards the bar. "And the blonde girl behind the counter." she decides, gaze speculative. "Your turn." Riorde considers both, the man first and the woman longer. "Agreed," she says to the first, trying to stare surreptitiously at the blonde without catching her attention. "Though I don't think we have the same taste in women." She sounds a little relieved as she says it and reaches for her klah, forgetting for a minute that it's empty. "More?" she offers, getting those wet boots off the low table and slipping from her comfy chair. Some might say morning is too early to start drinking. Those people have clearly never met Taikrin, who swaggers into the bar like she owns the place. She waves at a set of riders tucked into a corner -- apparently all of Glacier is off, this morning -- before bellying up to the bar with her charming lopsided grin and drawling to the bartender, "Reckon it's time for my mornin' klah, ain't it?" Which does involve klah, yes, but also apparently a copious amount of whiskey. "So we have similar taste in men, but not in women." Emme just doesn't know what to make of that, and starts to idly wish that her klah had more then just klah in it. It might make her head hurt less when pondering all of this. "Yeah, more klah I think." she agrees verbally after a moments though, giving Riorde a smile for volunteering. "This isn't a conversation I ever thought we would be having, by the way." "If we were on the island still, we wouldn't be having it." With that, Riorde reaches for Emmeline's mug and turns to hit up the bar. Except that she stills, just for a moment, seeing who's arrived while her back was turned. Then, bravely stepping out, she carries herself right up alongside Taikrin. "Klah too?" Sociable but not overly friendly, she glances sideways once while catching the brownrider's order but otherwise keeps her gaze schooled on the bartender. "Mmmmmhmmm- ain't nothin' like a special-- oh, hey!" It takes a minute for Taikrin to actually turn to look at Riorde, but her grin grows into one of pleased surprise when she recognizes the exile. "Shards, you guys move fast. Drinkin' at breakfast already? Girl after my own heart." She even salutes Riorde with her boozey klah, before downing a quick gulp. "You in here drinkin' alone, or are you in with a pack? Seems like you types are always movin' in packs." The brownrider twists, scanning across the cavern as if the exiles all came with a brand across her forehead. An eyebrow arches, briefly, as she catches sight of the snickers and quick flurry of bets happening at the Glacier table, but she mostly just seems amused. "Point taken." Emme concedes, not seeing a thing near the bar after that because she (of course) picks up her book to begin reading again when Riorde goes to get their klah refills. She may or may not have a brand on her forehead for Taikrin to spot. But, since she's dressed in an unseasonably light blue color, she sticks out like a sore thumb anyway. Riorde of course doesn't know that people generally save their alcohol for the afternoon or later, nor does she know that there is drinking and there is drinking. "Yeah, guess so," she answers, offhand except for the little pleased note in her tone. To the barkeep, "Klah, like she has." Though the blonde woman behind the counter raises an eyebrow, Riorde doesn't realise why. Nor will she realise she's mistakenly ordered the liquored-up version of the drink until she takes both mugs back towards Emmeline. "Came by myself, found her," she says, directing attention towards the harper with a nod. "We don't all move in packs." Taikrin trails after Riorde, though only after wiggling both eyebrows and raising her mug towards the Glacier table. They all clearly understand, because a chorus of snickers heralds the brownrider back towards the exiles' table. "Huh. Well. Dunno if I stand corrected or not, seein' as y'all still seem to be in a pack. Even if it is a little one." To Emmeline, book or no book, "Dunno if we met? 'M Taikrin." No mention is made of that fateful day on the beach, especially not when Taikrin is doing her very best impersonation of a charming person - complete with lopsided grin and extended hand. Emmeline closes the book up all neat and proper again as soon as Riorde and Taikrin come into view. And, having a memory like a steel trap there's a definite flicker of recognition in her eyes when she looks up at the brownrider. "I believe so. I'm Emmeline. Emme, usually." she offers, preferring the shortened name thee days. She'll even buy into the impersonation of charm and smile back, extending her hand in return to shake just prior to taking her mug of spiked drink from Ri. The only question is which of them finds out first that it's a very special klah indeed. "Nice to see you again. I remember - you were in the barracks checking to see if we needed anything. Soon after we arrived." "It's called a friend," says Riorde, casually sarcastic. Sharp-sighted as she is, there's nothing to be seen when it all happens behind her back, and thusly missing the Glacier riders, she carries on without a comment or look in their direction. As Taikrin and Emmeline introduce themselves, Riorde loiters rather restlessly by her chair, not yet sitting, and tries her klah. Her expression gives away that it was not the taste she expected, but she swallows gamely, says nothing, and lets Emmeline find out for herself. Taikrin's grip is really firm, though her skin has that bizarre too-soft quality that so many dragonrider's enjoy. "Emme," she repeats, then, "Yeah, that was me. Just doin' my level-best t'look out for you all. Don't like seein' folk in such rough shape, y'know? 'Specially pretty girls." She tilts her head to include Riorde in her casual flirtation, punctuating her remark with a long swig of klah. There's a howl of laughter from the Glacier table -- apparently one of them caught some part of her comment. Taikrin doesn't react in the least, but rather barrels on, "'Specially if y'all really are girls after my own heart, breakfastin' on the good stuff. Didn't take you all no time at all to get into all the good habits. Or did y'all have stuff to drink on that island, too?" Emmeline grins at that, glancing over at Riorde to see how she reacts to Taikrin's casual compliment. The laughter from the table full of riders startles her though, and the harper glances up and over at them curiously just as she's taking a drink of the klah that Ri has FAILED to warn her about. So is it the drink, or all that laughing that makes her eyes go wide and practically wheeze aloud while coughing after her first sip. "Did you...?" That half formed question is for the other exile, and she gestures at their cups with a 'WTF' clearly on the tip of her tongue. "Breakfasting on... you mean, this is how you usualy drink it? What's IN this? Sure tastes interesting. And definitely more warm then the normal stuff." Well, there goes the good, second, 'first impression'. Riorde tries, largely unsuccessful, to hide the rising pink in her cheeks by sliding into her seat with a thump. This time, the Glacier antics are unmistakable. Although Riorde hasn't fully figured out the connection, she's suspicious something's up at her expense, and the look she shoots towards the riders' table has something fierce about it. Emmeline's reaction to the klah brings a faint grin; she's not above enjoying herself at another's expense. "We had water, tea," the exile girl says, glancing back at Taikrin, still misunderstanding the nuances of the verb 'drink.' "Nothing quite like this." "Well, sure? I mean, what else would you come to the Snowasis for, 'cept how much better the klah is than somewhere like the LC where they do it the borning way?" Taikrin seems genuinely puzzled by Emmeline's reaction, though not my Riorde's-- she directs a swift, dirty look over her shoulder towards the Glacier table, then flops down in an emtpy chair at the exiles' as if she had been invited. "Don't pay them any mind; they're jerks and they're already wasted, anyways," she advises sagely, before making another attempt: here comes the charming grin again! "Next time y'ought to try it spiced, and with a little extra sweetener-- sweet girls like sweet things, yeah?" "I... well, sure." And despite what happened at Turnover with the drinking, exile-Emme is still enough of a n00b not to give much thought o drinking more of the doctored up klah. When she bobs and weaves her way back to the barracks is when she'll have cause for concern. And, probably hope that no Harper Journeymen stop her and realize she's a little tipsy! "..." Oh yes, the harper totally wants to say something when Taikrin ever more blatantly flirts with Riorde. But instead, it comes out as more of a slight giggle or sorts that is muffled by a cough. Riorde rebelliously sets to nursing her klah like it's exactly how she wanted it, like it's how she takes it every day. The manner in which she responds to Taikrin is admittedly sardonic. "You think we're sweet?" Riorde can't help herself, really; she's never minded her tongue and now is not the time to start. A glance cast at Emmeline shows that she's suspicious of that 'cough.' "We were," she suddenly decides to share boldly, darting another look towards the Glacier table as if they're her catalyst, "just discussing Turnover." "Well, aint'cha? 'Specially compared to how we grow girls 'round these parts." Well-immured to Taikrin's charm, for one. "Y'all remind me a little of the holdbred girls we get, sometimes, 'cept-- more fun, apparently." She tips her mug in salute of theirs, before draining a good swig of it. The brownrider is not the least perturbed by Riorde's subject change; in fact, she sighs with relief. "Flaming good thing me an' Szad got Iskiveth out in time." Because, you see, it was SOLELY due to their intervention. "How'd you all find yourselves?" Equal-opporunity flirter that she is, she directs the loaded question towards Emmeline. "Good way to pass an evening, yeah?" Some would call it more naive and gullible, but Taikrin calls it sweet! Ah, so much to learn about the way the Weyr works. Emme gives Riorde a guileless and completely innocent look in exchange for the glance she gets about her little cough. And, she affects a small shrug. Wut? Equally disturbing is that change in topic. Now it's her turn to look a bit uncomfortable and seem suspicious of her fellow islander. "Ah... not how I expected." the girl admits, allowing a wry smile. "And I can't say as I remember enough of the evening to call it fun. But I guess if I wasn't having any fun at all, I'd have recalled a lot more?" Sure, that makes sense. In a strange kind of way. Riorde hasn't had much interaction with the weyr-girls since her arrival; she hardly knows how to respond. Still, fun is good, isn't it, so Riorde feels it best to respond by tipping her mug slightly towards Taikrin in response. Although she brought it up, Riorde remains mum on the subject of her supposedly good evening beyond a short remark, "Well put," accompanied by her quick, not wholly comfortable grin. Naive and gullible: just the way Taikrin likes 'em! "Can't remember? On account of drinkin' too much, or-- 'can't remember'," and she even makes the air quotes, "On account of maybe your family or boyfriend might be hearin' word?" Her toothy grin turns shit-eating as she adds, "Or maybe girlfriend, yeah?" To Riorde, who she is definitely not going to let get away without a little ribbing, she adds, "You take my advice and lay low, or'd you end up fallin' in with that other island kid that was hangin' around? Though I heard he was gettin' pretty into Gabe, so... huh. Guess I didn't figure you island types would go in for a greenrider's charms so flamin' easy." Blunt appears to work best, in some cases, so Emme takes that route. "Drinking too much. I don't have any family left anyway. And I wasn't married off to anyone either, so nobody else to care." she admits, sipping at her klah like it's goin' outta style. Something she'll surely regret later. "Wait, what? Who was this? With who?" Perk. Blackmail fodder is always welcome, considering all the political intrigue and tension amongst the islanders right now. And she's not above using information any way possible. "I wouldn't fall in with Celadion for anything." Which does not exactly answer the question on whether she laid low or not, which is exactly as Riorde intends. She arranges herself to look at ease, boots going back on the table. "I left," she says, bland as can be, except for the faint smirk that accompanies her look towards Emmeline. "Last I saw, he was between a man and a woman - who knows where he ended up." Taikrin looks a little disappointed at the lack of reaction from either girl, though she puffs herself back up by draining the last of her klah and thumping the mug down on the table. "Goldflight's nothing to be wasted, now. Ain't happen but maybe once a turn. 'Course bein' on the ground ain't nothin' like chasin', and that ain't got nothin' on catching, so---" She's very clearly bragging, but she's also raising an eyebrow suggestively at both girls. "Y'all are both still single girls, yeah? I ain't gonna have to beat up some sorry little boy when he comes lookin' to me for trouble?" Emmeline clearly doesn't get it. She just blinks owlishly at Taikrin, and nocks her head a bit to the side in query. "Why would anyone come looking to you for trouble that you'd have to beat up?" she wonders. "Boyfriends." Pause. "Or girlfriends, are just not done on the island. So unless someone is married, they just... there's not anything." Right, so in translation she's apparently saying both she and Riorde are as single as single can be. "I thought you said to run and hide," Riorde returns, hitching sideways in her seat so she can round on Taikrin. "Among other things." Her gaze holds steady, as does her tone, anything suggestive well-hidden except for the allusion. While Emmeline provides the explanation on island relationships, Riorde sits back, crosses her ankles, and affirms firmly once the other islander's finished, "I can beat the boys up by myself." "On account of how I'm corruptin' their best girls with my drinkin' and my brownrider ways, of course," Taikrin responds in similar vein to Emmeline, leaning back into a supremely confident slouch. "And of course I did," to Riorde. "Weren't thinkin' real clear, like, what with the dragons all goin' off and all, but I didn't want your first flight night to be with some idiot kid who didn't know what he was doin'. You gotta have someone experienced to guide you through it, like. Someone who knows what they're doin', real skilled-like." From her smug expression, she clearly has someone in mind for such an arduous, difficult task. "And 'specially somebody who ain't gonna leave you with a special surprise nine months down the line." "You mean an idiot kid like whoever left some of the exiles really injured that night?" Rather then censure, that question from Emme seems to stem from a genuine curiosity and concern. "Heard some of our people had to be seen to by healers the next day. Rather then just sleeping off a hangover and, uh, tending to superficial, uhm, skin damage." Yep, she shares another lok at Riorde there. An then glances back at Taikrin. "Evidently you had someone in mind." Smirk. "Look at that, I'm already done my second cup. Maybe I should... head back to the classroom. Let you two talk!" "Oh?" Riorde's 'oh,' a response to the expressed lack of clear thought, operates on several levels. First: curiosity. Second: intrigue, like curiosity but less innocent. Third: (and this very, very subtle) disappointment. Still, with the smugness in her favour, Riorde forays into flirtation. "And are skills hard to come by, around here?" Emmeline's remark has her biting back a laugh, covered a second later with a drink of her klah. "Emme - see you later?" Riorde sits forward to deliver a genuine question. "Haven't seen you so much. It's been nice." "Injured? Didn't hear nothin' about that." Unwilling to linger on such an unpleasant topic, Taikrin raises her hands in an expression of mock-helplessness. "Just sayin', some of us got WAY more experience in this sort'a thing than others, makin' sure /everyone/ has a good time. Some of us're naturally talented." She also looks disappointed when Emmeline makes noises about leaving, offering after Riorde's, "And don't feel like you gotta run off nowhere; day's still young, and I reckon there's plenty I got to teach you what you ain't gonna get out of a classroom." Never say die! "Naturally talented, eh?" Emme finds that... both highly intriguing and for some reason a source of amusement. "It's alright. I really do have a lot to catch up on." She holds up her book with a wry smile. "I'll catch you later for sure, Ri. We have to hang out more." she agrees, and waggles fingers at Taikrin next. "I'll remember. See Taikrin about stuff I can't learn in the classroom." she repeats, lips twitching slightly. It's when she goes to leave that she gives Riorde a look. You know, like 'Don't waste the opportunity I'm giving you here or I'll torture you about it later' look. Because you can -totally- get that across with just a look. It's an exiles thing. "Nothing serious," Riorde hastens to say, but she doesn't dwell either. She can interpret Emmeline's look with relative accuracy - growing up with a limited number of peers helps that - and in her turn her look lands somewhere between a glare, gratitude, and amusement. She kicks her feet up so Emmeline can get by, replacing them on the table only after the other islander's left. "She's our harper," she explains to Taikrin, rather at a loss. "They made her one of the ones you have here now, too. So...classes." To explain Emmeline's departure. "Harper, huh. Go figure. Guess someone's got to do it." Taikrin stares curiously after Emmeline (and, okay, maybe she's checking her out too), then shrugs and turns the full force of her attention back to Riorde. "So," she continues in the tone of the previous thread, "You been doin' okay for yourself, since turnover? Y'all're startin' to look like a coupl'a weyr girls, now. Enjoyin' it here? Takin' advantage of what we got to offer?" "More or less," Riorde responds with customary caginess. If she notices that Taikrin's look after Emmeline is more than just idle curiosity, she either ignores it or deludes herself into pretending she believes otherwise. "Weyr girls?" This startles Riorde somehow, though she laughs it off a moment later, only partially successful in not making it sound forced. "Don't know if anyone will ever think of us as anything except exiles." The exiles included. This particular exile tries to make what's left of her klah last, the next sip miniscule. "Yeah, I guess we're trying to." "Well, you know. Hangin' out at the Snowasis. Gettin' through a goldflight without flippin' out. It's hard, the first one, if you don't know what's goin' on, or if you ain't got someone with you to-- take care of you, like. Y'know?" Taikrin is less overtly flirty now, instead settling into 'wiser older woman-type concern'. "Y'never change where you come from, but that don't mean you gotta be bound by it. Loads of us came from some place that ain't the Weyr, but-- we're weyrfolk, now. Free to do whatever feels-- natural." Riorde could easily point out that she didn't realise there were specific places certain types of people did and didn't hang out, but instead she chooses to take it as the compliment it's meant as. "Well, I'll know for next time." She looks interested as Taikrin continues; it has never occurred to Riorde that people might move around with freedom, unconstrained by place of birth. It seems only natural to wonder, "Where did you come from?" "Me?" Taikrin is taken aback by the question, though she recovers quickly enough to smooth over with, "Well, I'm mine-bred. Little minehold outside of Crom; rest of my family still lives there, 'cept my little sister's gone on to apprentice at Harper's main hall." Quick to move the topic of discussion from that point, she continues, "Loads of us ain't from around here. Search brings a lot of people in, for the eggs. Or they got useful skills, or-- sometimes Weyr life just suits 'em better. Like my buddy Gabe -- G'brion, I mean. You met 'im. Was a healer, 'cept that boy was born to be a greenrider, if you know what I mean. Don't know how he didn't get beat up all the time at the main hall." Riorde keeps to her klah and lets Taikrin talk, watching the other woman. As talk turns to greenriding G'brion, Riorde does not know what Taikrin means. The point she picks up on, however, is: "I met him?" Although the rider may not want to talk about her origins, Riorde swings right back to it, missing any signs that this is a possibly uncomfortable subject. "Miss them? Ever wish you'd stayed? We," exiles, "well - family's almost all we've got. Even when it's not so good." "Yeah, you know, the kid makin' real friendly with your exile buddy at Turnover?" Taikrin clarifies, though she doesn't linger - rather, she reluctantly returns to Riorde's questions. "Yeah, sometimes, I guess. My da died turns ago, and me an my ma ain't never got on real well, but my sisters're great. It ain't the place for me, though. I always knew that-- left when I was pretty young, you know? Think I was always supposed to be here, with Szadath. He's my family, now - my whole life." By the end of that whole thing, she's getting pretty maudlin; she snaps out of with a start, and puts in a suggestive grin. "But-- enough about me! What is it you want to do, now that you can do anythin'?" "Oh," Riorde says after Taikrin's clarification, with the weight of understanding crammed into that one syllable. She proves a good listener, not interrupting, and towards the end says somewhat thoughtfully, "He sounds nice." Anyone else making that sort of statement to a rider ('your dragon sounds nice') could easily be thought laughable, but perhaps Riorde's background protects her. "Me?" She finishes her klah but doesn't put the mug down, fiddling with it instead. "Don't know if I can do anything really. Most of what I can do seems pretty limited. Make nets, patch up a hut, cook fish, go fishing for more to cook..." She shrugs, sitting ill-at-ease until she glances at Taikrin and tries to sound wry. "Throw a punch." "Szad's the best. Together, we're the best." Simple, elegant, and Taikrin's catchphrase. She says it as if it's barely even a fact worthy of stating. "Sounds like you can do plenty. Ain't like diggin' underground was real good prep for the sorta stuff they do around here. Probably you could cook, or fix stuff, or-- whatever needs doin'. Or fight. I'm always lookin' for people to go a round with, 'specially since the Weyrwoman's been knocked up and all. She likes to spar, sometimes, too. But--" She leans in towards Riorde, elbows in the table, and raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Talkin' about jobs ain't exactly what I meant." The mention of like-minded women gets a thoughtful note of interest, a hmm she vocalises and the look that goes with it. Riorde still doesn't look like much, but she's been filling out a little in the past few months of better nutrition and filling meals. With her eyes on Taikrin, she takes in the rider's posture and expression, leaning forward herself to set down the empty mug alongside the book she brought in. She doesn't lean back right away; from the outside, it might look like a tete-a-tete. "I know what you meant," she replies evenly, deliberately. Taikrin has never, ever been known to back down -- much to her own detriment, usually. "Oh, yeah?" She raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile curving one side of her lips, and just-- waits. And, by the way, all eyes at the Glacier table are totally watching. A lot of money hinges on what Riorde might do next! Riorde doesn't do anything, not at first. The hesitation is there between them, but also the challenge, and Riorde is nothing if not bold. So, rather than sit back or drop her gaze away in flustered embarrassment, Riorde looks Taikrin right in the eye and leans forward farther still with the intent of kissing her -- and, meanwhile, flips Glacier the middle finger. Getting flipped the bird only makes the table erupt with snickers, but as Taikrin isn't about to move away from a kiss any time this century, there's also a flurry of groans as money changes hands. For her part, Taikrin is really good at ignoring all that extraneous stuff, and instead focusing on the kissing part. Because she's good at it. Really good at it. Fighting and, uh-- kissing are her only two talents, after all. She's not the romantic kind of kisser, either; she's the steamier kind, especially when her wingmates are watching. Riorde, it must be pointed out, has not indulged in many (if any) opportunities to kiss anyone, male or female, in her sheltered little island life. She is, however, a fast learner, and steamy is a sure boost to her nerves - she's not about to break away immediately. In a pause, she does point out with self-satisfaction, "They should be passing those marks to me." Islanders didn't have marks to bet with, but she still recognises what betting looks like. When the betting is pointed out, Taikrin does have the good grace to at least look a little bit embarrased. "Glacier'll bet on any dumb thing, don't pay 'em any mind." They're especially likely to bet on Taikrin's chances of flaming out again, since she seems to it so frequently. Still, kissing. Kissing is good. And no amount of Glacier being Glacier is going to interrupt that until she's good and ready, at which point she pulls back with a faint smirk. "You're awful good at that, island girl. Been practising?" "No I'm not." Now Riorde shifts back a little, self-consciousness visible as she pulls back her hair, not quite embarrassed but also not comfortable, as if suddenly aware that the entire Snowasis is looking at her, and soon the Weyr will be too - an exaggeration on both accounts. "Could'a fooled me." Taikrin is practically purring now, and looking very pleased with herself to boot. But she glances around the room, and in a rare bit of insightfulness offers, "You want t'go somewhere else? Little quieter? Feelin' a little crowded in here, me. Could use some air." Does Riorde know what she's getting into? No. Does that stop her? Not a bit. Her smile is quick and darting - the flash of a fish through water, there then gone but not quite, still hiding somewhere underneath the surface. "Sure." Her gaze hardly ever leaves Taikrin, except when it's necessary to gather herself and her things. Taikrin gets to her feet in one smooth motion, alcohol and success leaving her loose and limber. When she reaches out to take Riorde's hand and lead her away, it's not out to the bowl and Szadath, but rather deeper into the Weyr itself. "Know a place, they leave it set up in case of flights, you know?" the brownrider murmurs. There's plenty of opportunity for Riorde to change her mind before they get to the little room that's been set aside. Riorde has gained enough terminology and experience around the Weyr to know what Taikrin means and doesn't ask for an explanation. Spirited away to who-knows where without intention of turning back, all in all she proves quite the willing victim. |
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