Logs:Gossip Talk
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| RL Date: 10 February, 2013 |
| Who: Barnabas, Jo |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo and Bones dish about boys. And the Weyr. And family. Not really in that order. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Brieli/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: It's Bones. It's Jo. It's going to be pretty crude. Standard for them! |
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| It's early evening with the hearth sparsely populated with folks that have just finished up their duties for the night. One or two people at most, really. Looking like she had just got in, Jo is here wrapped up in her black riding leathers and sitting not too far from the fire at the small table with a flask in hand. Any sane person would have instead a mug of klah in their hands, but not her! She has a sheet of hide before her and she seems to be idly drawing in something on it, as if she were doodling since her writing stylus isn't moving all that much. Which would be seen as odd for her. Late nights are Bones' forte, and it's just as many seem inclined to shuffle out and leave for bed that he enters looking like he just woke up. There was a reason for that. He had. The dark circles under his eyes were fading fast though, thanks in part to the steaming mug of Klah in hand. Well, mug might have been understating. More of a stein. Surprisingly dainty sips are pulled from it's edge with quiet little slurping sounds, testing it's heat. And that's when he spots her. "Jo!" A little too loud, but closing the gap swiftly so that piercing volume is unlikely to be an issue any longer. Bones being too loud is something Jo is used to, the convict rider looking up from her drawing in time to catch the towering man heading her way. For him, there's always a welcomed, fond smile that's usually leery as she takes the whole of him in, and she sets her writing stylus down to sit back in her chair with her flask. "I was wonderin' when I'd eventually run into ya," is her return, drawled greeting, giving him a brief incline of her head. Studying his face in particular, "Are ya done healin' now?" He was in quite a shape when she last saw him after all. The seat across from bluerider is taken heavy, the buckles of his boots and wrists giving a leathery creak in the process. "Pfft, me? I could regrow an arm." Hand not occupied with klah makes a tight fist, and gives a few firm slaps of it against his pectoral to prove his heartiness. The sound has a meaty but hollow ring to it, impact echoing in his lungs. "That cider you passed my way helped ease the hurt a tad. I owe you a gift'a some sort, you'll be sure to remind me eh?" Big white smile flashes her way before being hidden behind the rim of his klah in another sip. "So what's up? You drawin?" Jo eyes that arm and the fist made as she tips that flask back and has a drink of whatever's in it. Probably not klah. Definitely not klah. She looks pleased when he brings up her gift, the smile lopsided as she responds back with a wry, "Anytime, darlin'. Rather like seein' ya without the bruises. Ya seem conflicted last time." She studies him, perhaps alluding to her wondering if he was, still, before he brings attention to the hide. She drops a look on it and picks up the writing stylus, setting the flask to the side as she pushes the drawing towards him. It's definitely a map of someplace, though, not all the way finished. There's good detailing here and there, not uniformed as she says, "I have a freakishly good memory. Been tryin' to put down a place Tac and me just came from for the wall. Still needs work, and a little color." There's a slow lean from the big man as he inches his way up and over the cartography, being mindful of his certainly stain-prone choice of beverage. "Looks good!" Enthusiastic and honest, despite his complete lack of knowledge on the subject of map making. "And if you're worried about my headspace, that's all healed up just like the rest'a me. That was just uhhh, a weird couple'a sevens there. Not used to dealing with all this..." there was probably a delicate way to put it that he couldn't find. "Dragon shit." "It sucks," Jo says on the drawing, but there's a crooked grin for Bones all the more as she drags the map back to herself. "I'll redo it later. But anyway, ya look good. I see ya been keepin' out of trouble. Maybe ready to get into some with me someplace? I know a bar where a few could use a good thrashin'." Oh she's totally joking, right? His eloquence at the end has her echoing, "Dragon shit," with open amusement now, reclaiming her flask. "That's flights for ya. Ya could get outta dodge with me next time. I was away at the time." Where, she doesn't say. Still, her gaze turning a tad pensive, "How's Azaylia doin'?" Speaking of. There's all smiles for talk of the two of them slipping away, either to troublesome bar or other mystery locales. "Sure, just strap me on Tacuseth and take me wherever you got'a mind to go. But uhh, don't pick no fights on my account eh? Still a little gunshy on these fists. They're lethal weapons y'know." The grin broadens itself at his self-aggrandizing joke. That smile can't last at the mention of Azaylia, almost an immediate groan leaving him at her her mention. "Unngh. Zee? Shitty." Another sip is taken, definitely needing the boost to get through the vague outline. "She's doing her best with things, but ain't nobody giving her any respect, and for me it's damn clear to see why." Mug is set down just a little too hard, a little hot klah spilling over it's brim and over his hand, which he shakes a few times in continuing. "Politics. Ambitions. Tradition." That last word is uttered with a bit more bile. "I'm damn near ready to burn this whole place to the ground." "I'm serious," Jo notes oh-so casually, raising her flask to her waiting lips as her gaze lingers on the man. "No fight to pick. Always there waitin'. Hiral and his boys always tossin' up the place. Barkeep there's got me on the job. No knives, just fists," and she sounds almost disappointed. Almost. But then she watches Bones' ire rise in light of his roommate, it sparking an interest to the bluerider. Leaning a little forward, "Who's not respectin' her?" she asks, elbow propping up on the table. "And who's ambitions?" For Bones to be ready to burn a place down, it must be something serious. Bones rubs some of the tiredness from his eyes as he continues down the uncomfortable (especially for him) line of gossip. "It's all anybody can friggen talk about it. I get earfuls of it just walking through the kitchens." He slumps down to rest his elbows on his knees, hands hung down lazily between his legs. With so much of him slumped, their heights actually even out when he lifts his head to match eyes with her. "Of the four involved in the whole catch clusterfuck, only three got the ego to know deep in their proud little hearts, what's best for this place. Where do they get off thinkin' they got it all figured out eh?" He's genuinely disgruntled, and he hangs his head down to the floor briefly, but it's soon back up with his usual grin, and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Course from the way I talk about her, I make her sound like Rukbat don't shine without her say so." When Bones speaks, especially about the four, he may or may not notice the subtle shift of sharpened interest from Jo. Her frame remains casually composed, the woman idly turning the flask on the table this way and that as her gaze goes from the flask's shine to Bones' disgruntled eyes. She seems carefully silent, alert, and when he's done, "And if two of them, let's say for sake of musings, did?" she asks, but she's also quick to tack on a wry, "Yer for Azaylia. Ya got her back, is all. Can' hide the face of true loyalty, darlin'. In light of that, the rest of Pern could be wrong save for the one ya gave the hilt of yer knife to." Which, apparently, giving the hilt end of the knife was a sign of loyalty and respect, to her. Nodding to all this, "She has plans herself, separate from the rest of them, then?" she asks, studying the large man - even though that study is a bit licentious. Bones' smile fades now, but not for the reason one might expect. Jo... is interested in this stuff? "... are you workin' me?" There's the briefest moment of furrowed brow, as if he had just caught somebody stealing a small bit of bacon from his breakfast plate. The smile can't help but come right back at his playful accusation. "You tryin to sniff out info on Azaylia's plans, eh?" A playful shove at Jo's shoulder follows, the call out meant in jest whether accurate or not. "Look, I don't care who ends in charge. Really don't. But if people are playin' Zee like my gut tells me they're tryin' to?" He shakes his head and looks to the ground, giving a tsk. That's the vague end of that scenario. Of course Bones sniffs her out. Jo flashes him that harmless grin that is eight-parts pure trouble and two-parts pure humor. "Me?" she drawls that out, not even trying to play the innocent. "I'm a rider. Gotta keep one small finger on this place and the politics involved, right? In case all this ends up fuckin' with my livelihood?" That's all it is. Why would Jo care? "And I wouldn' worry, darlin'. Ain' nothin' and nobody gonna flip this Weyr on those girls." Azaylia and Brieli. "Just gotta hunch. Taikrin'll keep yer girl safe." She takes a drink from the flask and then slightly raises it in a sort of toast in his direction before adding, "And ya'll do the same. Girl's lucky to have ya around. How's the greenhouse workin' for ya?" "I hope you're right, 'bout Taikrin and Brieli, because I can only keep Zee safe from real knives, not the kind that the politicians use." With a heavy exhale through pursed lips, he pushes himself back up to a more normal height, picking up his klah. "And quit flatterin' me will 'ya? She ain't lucky to have me 'round. All I do is tuck her into bed when she's drunk and put a dent in her couch. Same as any roommate does for any other." A deeper sip is taken now that it's cooled some. "And the greenhouse is the greenhouse. Quit makin' me blab 'bout myself it's getting weird now. You. Your turn. How are things going for Jo?" Forceful, but with a playful smile attached. "I am," Jo says with enough confidence to suggest she has some authority around here. Which, she doesn't. "Got a good feelin' about them both. They ain' gonna steer this place wrong. Folks just gotta give out a good chance." Leaning back now, there's quiet laughter on her flattering him, the convict rider sending Bones a look. "So ya don' like my compliments? Ya prefer the heavier kind then?" She has before. She seems willing to deliver those sorts again. His not wanting to speak on the greenhouse amuses her, but once he turns the tables on her, "I've always welcomed ya from the first to ask me anythin' ya wanted," she notes on their first meeting, and that one afterwards. "Jo is well," she continues now to say easily. "Jo may have stayed out in the sun too long somewhere else, but, she's good. Can' complain. Gotta watch after Tac's leg injury, though, and been busy keepin' tabs on old friends of mine." It's a mark of her regard for the man that she says as much, the woman bringing the flask to her lips. "Jo's gotta stop starting sentences with Jo." He isn't the literary sort that'd know the detailed descriptor of third person, but there's a chuckle from him. "Because Bones didn't know what Bones was starting." A few more sips of his Klah are followed by a return of the stein to the floor by his feet. He enjoyed the drink, but hated having one of his hands always occupied. "S'pose you have always trusted me, haven't you? Weird how that works. I'm usually the last on that list." For most. "You do look just a touch darker than usual. Thought it mighta just been the light in here, but nope that's you isn't it? So you just go to some remote beach on your lonesome and cook? Man, wish I had a dragon to get that kinda treatment whenever I wanted." "Ya started it," Jo counters on that, just as Bones says it. Ha! But then he speaks on trust, and that's something not so humorous. Not with her. Her smile fades just a tad and she does one of those little sideways nods that might not be a nod at all. "Trust ya more than most, maybe," she muses on that slowly, assessing Bones openly. "I don' think ya'll fuck me over. I think ya know the feelin'. Maybe." She pauses on that, then continues with a wryly pointed look pinned to the man about her tan. "Who said anythin' about cookin'? It was a remote island. Needed the trip. Tac needed the sun for his leg, and, it wasn' by my lonesome." She's still giving Bones that lips-pressed-together look. To his last, "Yer gonna make me wanna question ya again. And Tac and me can take ya anywhere ya want, ya know. Just gotta catch us around." With dark circles and lingering tiredness finally leaving Bones in full, he leans back in his seat and puts both palms behind his head. The smile he gives her is still full of sharp white teeth, but he somehow packs some warmth into it as well. "Fuck you over, eh? I think yer givin' me too much credit. What kinda power would I have to screw with you even if I wanted to." Theres a light shrug of his shoulders at the hypothetical. He doesn't want to. "I just meant cookin' up your skin, gettin some color. 'Course, NOW I'm curious on who you went with." Grin turns just a touch bit more lecherous. "But if we gotta do this teenager style, where we play question for question, y'can shoot another one my way. I promise on truth if you do?" Jo acknowledges the first with a blithe, "Ya can be surprised what a person would do, with what they hear," is all she says to that before Bones is totally gabbing on her to spill the beans. "Teenager style? How is the exchange of information between two folks teenager? Besides, now I've got no question to ask anymore." Ha ha. She doesn't look so forthcoming on what he's obviously wanting to hear, but after a moment of her checking how much drink is left in her flask, she answers, deadpan, "Do ya know bronze Tsanth's, Z'ian? That's who, if ya must know." Pause. "Actually, I do wanna know somethin'," she notes now with an arched brow. Since she's sharing and all. "Ya never talk about yer family." That's a prompt. Bones is far too Intrigued at the revelation of who she might slip off on vacation with to let that slip away quietly into the night, smile big and beaming as the reveal shows itself. His face drops a little at the name, and brow furrows in confusion. "Z'ian?" He looks at her lap and scratches the back of his head. "Well that's 'sharding boring." A small slump of disappointment, and a few second's pause before he springs back up to clarify. "Not that he's an asshole or nothin', but it's like... there's girls like you, and then there's guys like me. And then there's... Z'ian, know what I'm saying?" The unspoken emphasis is on how clean cut and handsome her choice is. Bones was hoping for someone a bit more scandalous. "Hey whatever, he's charming as hell, got a cute ass, I get it. Ain't gonna pretend I'm not a lil jealous though." Klah is reached down for again, getting himself another hit of his favorite serum, and then returning back to his sitting position. "My family? I don't... really got one to speak of. That ain't dodgin' by the by, just truth." Jo rolls her eyes at Bones' antics and picks up her flask as she slumps back in her chair. A brow lifting at him, "I dunno," she says, looking away briefly. "We get along pretty well. He understands how I am, mostly." Looking at Bones now with that lopsided grin this shade of bold, "Ya act like I'm a taken girl, Bones," she notes wryly on his assumption, shaking her head. "I don' do monogamy, darlin'. Far too into the good time. Men and women all over would lament if someone like me was too taken to corrupt them with my wiles." Her grin, wolfish. "Besides," she adds with a look, her chin dropping, "I thought ya were over my winsome style and charmin' smiles. Dunno how that happened." She could be teasing, but knowing her.... Nodding then, "So yes. I like him. He's not borin', neither. He's refreshin'. Different. Folks I'm around, they ain' like him. And he's got a cute ass, I agree. I'm amused ya even noticed, Mr. Lil Jealousy." Yeah, they're totally talking about boys. It's the last topic one would expect between a gardener like him and a convict rider like her. As to his answer on family, "Got dropped somewhere, huh?" she notes on his not having one, seeming to find that interesting. "Jo..." he starts with a slightly condescending tone. "I lived on a boat, then served ten in the mines. Y'don't think maybe I might'a noticed a slice'a man meat every once in a while?" Back to hands behind head, leaning back to stretch out his already long torso. "But I tend to prefer the lady types, and you? Well you wear skin tight black leathers girl, if I wasn' interested in peelin' off the right straps just a little, I'd be a damn eunuch, y'dig?" A surprisingly vague bit of flirting. For Bones. "Give you a tongue bath that'll get your eyes rollin' in your head and forgettin' your own name." Okay, that was less vague. "But I got this thing about using girls, on account'a... oh! Right, family." He got a bit distracted. "Nah, not an orphan. Mom was a hooker. Got brought up by her solo, but only till I was like thirteen, fourteen?" "So yer tellin' me that ya enjoy checkin' out men's asses?" Jo is trying to clarify this as bluntly as possible, looking the gardener over. "And...ya decide to not tell me this sooner? We could be hangin' at the Snowasis right now, checkin' out the lay of the stock together..." So people are stock now? Obviously, Jo doesn't care if Bones really does or not, and his next on her leathers does draw that cocky smile from her that's winsome and all teeth-bearing. Vague, but then the next? Not vague. Low laughter that is simply all suggestive, "Now we're talkin', darlin'," she seems to tease. "And I don' use. I don' let myself be used. We're all adults, here." But then, family. "I see," she now says on Bones' family, nodding to that. "So ya do have family. Are ya ashamed?" Can't help but give a hearty laugh at Jo's sudden excitement at unearthing his occasional alternative preferences. "An ass is an ass." Bones yet again stumbling on something profound without meaning to. "Well hey y'know, suppose if someone in particular gets off on bein used? That's a separate thing. But y'know what I mean." The subject of his mother comes up, and he can't help but scoff a bit. "Ashamed? Fuck no. It's just like any other job. She did real good makin' sure I didn't see..." he has to pause there. He actually did see quite a bit. Learn quite a bit. "... too much that I weren't supposed to. She did the best any woman coulda considerin' circumstances." Laughing, "A mantra I've heard plenty of times," Jo says to asses, lifting her flask in toast to that. Hey, she's pretty much with the guys, there. To Bones' next, "That's out there, too," she agrees on those that get off on it, not refuting any of what he says. "Ain' me, though." She's very interested in hearing about this side of Bones - his mother that he speaks of getting her regard over her now closed flask before her. "Dunno my mother," she reveals to him now with a small shrug. "Not sure what she got up to. My dad's a guard, and a prick. Sometimes he says dirty stories about my mother when he was drunk. When he forgot I was in the room, growin' up." Well, she couldn't have him sharing so much without any more teenager exchange. Bones' face scrunches up a little at the description of Jo's father. Dirty stories about mom in front of the kids? Bones grew up in a whorehouse and that sounded a bit nasty. "Nasty." A little shake of his head to coincide with the word, open about his disapproval. He lifted his klah to his lips for another sip, and was left with an annoying scrunch of his brow in finding it was empty. Really? Shit, how long had he been there with Jo? "Oh man, time flies. I think I used up a little more of my klah break than I had intended to." There's the smallest of grunts as he lifts himself up to his feet, explaining his reasons for having to go as he rolls his head on his shoulders. "I'm workin' a self imposed night shift at the greenhouse tonight. If you got time between Z'ian and your... secret criminal enterprises..." There's a pause at that one, grin growing wide. He was joking. Right? "... then stop by the greenhouse. Say hi." "Typical," Jo counters on the word Bones drops on her father, not seeming bothered or offended. It was what it was. Jo wasn't a woman that seemed to whine over her messed up past, either. Eyes drop to his mug as the man's out of his chair, the convict rider nodding to him as she straightens back up and returns to her forgotten map drawing. His words on the bronzerider and any suspicious enterprises thereof gets a wry, "I should check up on him and his tan. And his ass." Beat. "And I haven' the vaguest clue what yer talkin' about," she adds blandly to the next. "I spend my time helpin' poor barkeeps that can' help themselves. Like the one mentioned before. Could always use yer lethal fists, if yer of a mind to knock some heads together." Jo, innocent. She's never up to anything. But the smile at last turns fond for the man as she lifts two fingers to him and adds, "I will. Don' worry about owin' me for the cider. What are friends for, right?" Right. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 10 Feb 2013 23:59:13 GMT.
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Ahahaha. Bones n' Jo are filthy and terrible together. XD Best buds fo' life.
Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 11 Feb 2013 01:06:09 GMT.
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Z'ian's ass isn't safe! D:
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