Logs:Hobbies And Things
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| RL Date: 23 December, 2012 |
| Who: Z'ian, Azaylia, Brieli |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia manages to be social (with a little liquid courage), meets Z'ian, and is teased by Brieli. Good times! |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 8, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Taikrin/Mentions |
| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern. It's a pleasantly warm summer night and the Snowasis is a bubbling hub of activity. Many of the patrons are enjoying the weather outside, crowding the patio and entrance. Inside it's a little better and the chances of finding a place to sit are a bit more promising. There's a lively and rowdy game of cards being played by the hearth, though it currently doesn't have a fire lit within. Z'ian has only recently arrived and purchased his drink, settling onto an empty chair at the bar itself. He shrugs off the light jacket he's wearing, letting it sling over the back of his seat. Mildly curious he casts a glance down the bar one way and then the other, taking stock of his current companions and possible conversation partners for the evening. Azaylia manages to eventually escape one of Glacier wing's infamous poker games, flushed and laughing as she evades the calls of her wingmates. Scared Wherry, cheapskate, and other such names that signal the goldrider is trying to keep some marks in her pocket. Making her way through the busy crowd, she eventually reaches the bar and slides a tall, notibly empty glass over to the tender. Waiting for her refill on such a busy evening has Azaylia hopping up onto a stool next to the unfamiliar bronzerider. There's still amusement in her gaze as she peeks this way and that, smile having shrunk into something a little more modest. Polite. He pulls his drink closer to himself, one finger idly tracing the outer rim of the glass before he lifts it and takes a sip. Z'ian hasn't quite finished his eyeballing of the room at large when the junior finds her way onto the stool next to him. The motion of a person settling in next to him is what brings his gaze back around to Azalyia. He's unfamiliar to her no doubt, but at the very least she's someone he recognizes by sight. The bronzerider dips his head and produces a slow, friendly conspiratorial smile before glancing over his shoulder to the poker game. "So who did the fleecing tonight, you or the usual cheats?" Azaylia doesn't give a start, but her gaze finds the speaker quickly enough with a curious, wide gaze. There's a flicker of concern, a glance towards the table before she realizes that he could be, and probably is, joking. "O-oh." With a soft laugh, "I'm not very good." And far too honest for the game, looks like. "But I think they won the marks off me fair and square." She leans forward, arms lightly folding over one another atop the bar. "I'm sure if you're looking for a game..." Though she falters, as if realizing how she might be sending an ovine to slaughter. "...there are a lot to be found." Other than Glacier's. The two riders are seated at the bar, the Snowasis being pretty busy with the nice weather outside. The outer patio is packed but the inside, has some seats open. -- Tipping the glass back against his lip, he lifts an eyebrow before knocking back a long draw of his drink. Z'ian carefully plays it back down before dropping an elbow onto the countertop. He turns to more appropriately focus his conversation towards, Azalyia. "Looking for a game?" His eyes dart over the game, still loudly carrying on in the background. "Unfortunately I'm more attached to my marks than I should be." His smile remains light, a friendly stranger still. "Z'ian, bronze Tsanth's." Quick introduction, one that's accompanied by the offer of his hand to shake. "You play often?" Azaylia is waiting for a refill of her own drink, as patient as always and distracted by the bronzerider next to her. His introduction prompts her, perhaps unnecessarily, "Azaylia, gold Hraedhyth's. I don't think she's stolen his ledge, yet." If Z'ian is unsure of what she means, it's probably for the best. Eventually the 'tender gets to her, mixing a tropical drink for all that 'Reaches is so not an island. At least the weather is still warm. Her hand slides into his for a surprisingly firm shake, "Not very... though I have started playing a lot more since I joined." Turning back to the bar, she takes a small sip of her drink and gives the busy man behind the counter a smile of thanks. It figures; Brieli'd like a drink in the good weather and the outside patio is full, with no amount of glaring or intimidation convincing anyone to move. So she's stuck coming inside, dark gaze sharp, long-legged steps easy and measured. The bar might always be the easiest place to find a seat, but it's the last place she looks, regarding the booths and tables first in a general survey of the room. She's halfway there, hands in pockets of her shorts, before her attention shifts that way and she spots Azaylia and her handshake, her refill. The bronzerider gets a flicker of a look before she approaches, her expression for the other woman questioning. Interrupting? Nope, he doesn't know what she's talking about. That's clearly indicated by the flicker of confusion that flashes over his face. It's quick, however and he doesn't verbalize any issue with it. "Well met. I used to play more frequently." Z'ian admits with good natured shame and adds on, "I used to lose a lot more frequently too. It's good fun though." His own handshake is firm, not overbearingly so, thankfully. At least halfway aware of his surroundings, the bronzerider catches the motion of the other approaching woman. He glances from her to Azaylia curiously, but doesn't say anything. The questioning look isn't for him, after all. It doesn't seem like Azaylia's inclined to enlighten Z'ian, at least not about her queen's more obnoxious habits. If he's managed to escape them this long... "I once suggested that we maybe play with candies instead of marks..." The embarrassed glance she sends off to the side may hint at how well that had gone over. She catches sight of Brieli as she does, silent question understood only after the goldrider is waving the other over. "Brieli." Her greeting is happy, almost squirming like a pup from it, "This is Z'ian, bronze Tsanth's." A smile for the man, that much brighter with her friend's arrival. Her friend waves her over, Brieli leans on the bar to wave the bartender over - just to get that out of the way. She hasn't overheard much of the conversation, just enough to give Azaylia an odd look for candies versus marks before; "Oh. Cards. Right, you could hear them out in the bowl." The introduction is cue for her to turn and regard the bronzerider with a pleasant smile, offer a slender hand. "Pleasure. Brieli. But she said that already. Iesaryth's. I apologize if I'm interrupting. I'd thought to sit outside, but..." A shrug. Such is life. "I take it that it didn't catch on." Z'ian remarks, the hint of amusement telling in his tone. He takes another drink from his glass, drawing the level of liquid down something significant. It's during that time that he casts another curious look over at Brieli. He swallows quickly when Azalyia begins to introduce him and accepts her hand, giving her the same firm response her friend received. "No, you're not interrupting. I think we were just confirming that we both don't have any future as card sharks. And there's seats open here, so. What about yourself? Master gambler in the making or not?" He's not put out by the extra company, clearly. Azaylia looks almost proud as Brieli confirms just how rowdy her wingmates can get, "They're fun." While warm complexion is only able to hint at a flush, the drink in hand is obviously not her first, or even second. It may explain the ease in which she speaks to the unfamiliar bronzerider, "Nope. They called me a lot of names." Which has her smiling, of all things. "I thought everyone liked sweets." Though she's looking at Brieli, her soft voice is meant for Z'ian, "Brieli's good at everything." Maybe gambling, too? But she won't answer any further, silencing herself with a few delicate sips. The other goldrider's grip is firm enough, though not likely with the crushing potential of certain people's. And the 'tenders know Brieli, know what Brieli wants, so when there's a moment, there's a short glass of what looks to be rum before her. Sliding into one of those empty seats, she takes a sip before telling Z'ian, "I don't usually gamble, no. I don't like to take uncalculated risks. And most people don't like sweets more than marks, I think." But she has a slight smile for Azaylia even so. "I don't think everything, no," she demurs, arching fine brows. The comment about getting called a lot of names and the smile about it results in the slightest hitching of eyebrows from Z'ian. He glances towards the drink in her hand, maybe trying to mentally guage just which number this one is. "More people probably like marks than sweets, that's true." He says, agreeing with the other woman and shooting Azaylia a quick smile. He gathers his glass up in his hands again, running his thumbs over the rim as he looks between both of his companions, possibly catching hints of the undercurrents there. "Me either." On uncalculated risks. "Well. None of us will be winning a poker tournament anytime soon. So, cheers to us not being broke either." With the level of booze in his possession getting dangerously low, he signals the bartender for a refill. Azaylia doesn't pull her lips from her glass in order to softly argue with her friend, "Uhhum." She is so good at everything. So there. When she finally places the half-drained glass down, "That's okay. There's plenty of other things to be good at." A glance towards Brieli: like, at everything. "What do you like to do, then?" For the bronzerider, despite the junior not usually so blunt in her curiosity. Drinking certainly helps, but it could also be the lack of a plague, the tentative calm that has fallen over the weyr as of late. She can't be the only one who has embraced the hope of peace. As the bronzerider raises eyebrows, Brieli can explain quietly, "It's their way of expressing affection." With a shrug like, she doesn't get it either. At the toast, she can tip her glass Z'ian's way, darkly amused. "I don't like being broke either," she allows, after a drink of her own, leaving her half-full, or half-empty. Guess how she sees it? With a glance returning the other goldrider's, only mildly bemused, "Oh, you just met? I wasn't sure. And are you looking for a hobby, Azaylia?" Z'ian clears his throat at the fairly subtle remarks coming from the one goldrider. "Oh right, forgot they were such a uh, friendly batch." Or not, either way. He chugs back the rest of the glass just in time for the fresh one to arrive. He pushes the empty away from himself and flashes Azalyia a crooked smile, shrugging his shoulders lazily. "Physical activity. I'm one of those guys." A jock? Some sort of a meathead? He's not so clear on the definition. The half smile, amused is turned onto Brieli next. "We'd only known each other for two minutes before you showed up. Maybe I could teach you how to run a marathon." That last is for the other woman, suggestion half in jest, half serious as he leans back in his seat. Azaylia nods in agreement, not having known the man for long. "A hobby? Who has the time?" What might be sarcasm from most people is a genuine sentiment from the goldrider. What with their usual duties, drills, the occassional sweeps... "What would you have for a hobby, Bri?" Curious, now that the subject has changed. The addition of physical activity has her perking up, "I run in the morning, when I have the time. I was thinking about adding some more drills to my routine..." She trails off with a little smile, "I've never run a marathon before." No doubt she could, though she'd never say as much. "One way of putting it," Brieli notes in an undertone over her glass, perhaps more to herself than anyone else. There's an arch of fine brows for 'physical activity'; by the brightening of dark eyes, there's something she's thinking, but won't say. With a roll of those eyes Z'ian's way, "Azaylia runs." It's said like she drinks or something even less savory, before the other goldrider confirms just that. As for her hobbies, she shrugs over to Azaylia. "I don't know, I was just wondering - you seemed interested in how other people fill their time. And I have things to occupy me." Things. Things that might have a name, but she's not elaborating. "Some more drills? Like what?" Z'ian asks Azaylia, expressing more interest in this than he had in the poker conversation from earlier. "I've been trying to incorporate more lifts into my routine, but. Time constraints." He rolls one shoulder in resignation. Not enough hours in the day, apparently. "I used to run in them when I was a kid at the hold. I've been thinking about doing it again." Then, like he forgot something he takes a sip from his glass and glances back to Brieli again. "Are you more of an..." His mouth twitches, pulling to the side as he looks for the best word to use. "An academic?" Azaylia spares a moment for a self concious glance for her upper arms, "Lifts?" Uncertain, she debates her enjoyment of lifting heavy things and fitting into pretty dresses. "O-oh. One of my wingmates, Taikrin... she had me thinking about more, uhm, helpful drills." A glance for Brieli, who might remember what she means. "Self defense... thingies." Not very technical about it and noncommittal. While trying to quiet herself with a drink, she can't stop a snortgiggle at Brieli's answer. "Thing." The smile is sweet but certainly playful, thinking of one in particular. "And I like learning about new people." New, unfamiliar, it's all the same with tequila! Entertained by something, Brieli tells Z'ian, with a flash of a smile, "I'd have called myself something of a diplomat until recently. Now... I don't know. But I suppose it's what we have." Another shrug with a tragic shake of her head; language, so lacking. "Which Hold?" Mildly curious. "And... yes, that was useful. Or seemed it, at least. Taikrin, Szadath's," she clarifies for the bronzerider, if that helps at all. "She's been quite helpful generally in the wake of... everything." Rolling her eyes at Azaylia for the snortgiggle, she has to ask, "What drink are you on? How long have you been here?" Light enough, teasing. "Lifts. I guess it's sort of a man thing." Z'ian comments glancing down at his own arms now and tugging at the sleeve of one shirt. He drinks again and follows the flow of the conversation with his eyes. "Lifting heavy things is helpful." He teases over the rim of his glass before allowing himself another sip. "Self-defense sounds like a good time. What does she practice?" There's an acknowledged nod for Brieli's clarification. "I'm originally from High Reaches Hold. I've moved far in the world." He jokes in a casually self-mocking way. As for her role of diplomat he smiles, more sympathetically now than the humorous one of a few minutes ago. "Things change." He casts a glance between them for the giggling and laughs lightly. "I'd say she got past the first two before we arrived." Just for an instant Azaylia seems startled, glancing at Z'ian with an odd little expression. There's a quiet sigh, and one might notice the sudden lack of intensity behind her eyes only after it's snuffed out. "I don't know if it's got a name." She replies, lifts left alone in favor of Taikrin. "She had me throw her?" As if that'll help clear things up. Brielli rolling her eyes has her smile growing even wider, "I lost count." Which is a joke in itself, she couldn't have had that many so early. "What day is it?" Not that she's too eager to call for a replacement, close to the bottom of this glass. For Z'ian, "You got a bronze dragon. Some would say that's moving up." Unclear as to whether she's such a person or not. Dryly, "Bar fighting." Brieli has something of a smirk for Taikrin's 'practice', though she notes, "It's a good thing to be aware of, these days. I don't know if a weyrwoman ought to go unarmed, to be honest. It's better than guarded again." Her next sip is taken more moodily; she eyes her near-empty glass speculatively. To Z'ian, "High Reaches. A lot of change there of late, as well." There's a little shake of her head for Azaylia's answer, but the other goldrider is grinning a touch. Draining the last of what she has, "Whatever the number, I think I might have to leave it at one. I hope you won't dance on the bar or anything, Azaylia?" "Bar fighting." Z'ian repeats, looking first from Brieli and then on over to Azaylia again. It takes him a moment of quiet mental digestion to sort of digest that. Finally after taking in a breath and producing a grin that resembles good humor he states, "I think you're going to want to practice lifting things. Tables are heavy." Glancing from Azaylia's almost finished glass to her face, "Let me know if you want practice at it sometime." As for his dragon and place of birth. "I was talking more about horizontal movement, as opposed to vertical." Then there's talk of change and women not being unarmed and for those things he can only resignedly nod his head. "As with all things, right?" Azaylia drains her glass and places it on the bar, speaking (or squeaking) up. "Ohyes. She does do a lot of that, doesn't she?" Brieli has her giving an odd smile, "The guards were nice." People, not the fact that their presence was required. Z'ian earns another steady glance, though this time there's no hint of that inner flame. "I... okay." Politely passive, the goldrider slips from her stool and smooths out the skirt of her dress. "I dunnooo..." She sing-songs quietly for her friend's playful concern, tugging Brieli into a tight hug. The bronzerider just gets a finger-wiggle wave before she's walking with a mostly steady stride back to the poker game. There's a roar for Azaylia's return; where everybody knows your name. Brieli does not like tight hugs, but she forbears with Azaylia's - gritting teeth - before offering her own version of that wave to the bronzerider, telling Z'ian pleasantly, "Nice meeting you, again." And she's off with brisk strides to the patio ledge, and... somewhere else. And then both women are gone! Z'ian gives them both a polite wave and tip of his head as they each maker their seperate exits. He doesn't go though, just assumes the position of bar fly. Eventually others fill their seats and he makes conversation. For awhile anyway. |
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