Logs:Hostage Negotiations
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| RL Date: 12 July, 2013 |
| Who: Ekoth, Solith, Tayte, U'by, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte has a hostage after Solith's maiden flight. Ekoth acts as professional hostage negotiator. Telavi pays the ransom. |
| Where: Living Cavern and the bowl outside, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 3, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Snowy |
| Mentions: Quinlys/Mentions, Meara/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, Alida/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: U'by played by Tayte. |
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| Competent, direct, clear and concise: Ekoth's mind rings Solith's. She waits, patient. Sometimes her mind is wispy and hard to pin down, but not now. Now she's engaged in a specific task, the appropriately professional persona selected for the task. Ring, ring, ring! (Ekoth to Solith) « Yes? » It's bright, happy, sunny. Never mind the snow that's falling yet again. (Solith to Ekoth) « This is Ekoth. My services have been engaged to negotiate the safe return of one woven llama-wool jacket-hostage to it's rightful owner. » There's a pause. She's allowing Solith to take these clipped and professional words in. « Are you authorized to negotiate for its release? » (Ekoth to Solith) Who what? This time, the pause is hers, and due to uncertainty instead of timing. « Show me? » It comes with a waft of fresh air, stronger than it had been just days before, that would tug at any available image as it might a kite. (Solith to Ekoth) « I'm not authorized. I need to know I'm speaking with someone with sufficient clearance to negotiate before releasing any other details. » There's a pause as Ekoth seems to step away from the connection, then returns, « I've been apprised that this jacket belongs to your rider. Are you authorized to negotiate for its release? » She questions again, pointedly. (Ekoth to Solith) « Yes. » There really isn't a question mark attached... not much of one, anyway. It's just a little lift. « It is blue on the inside, » Solith provides, just in case that should make a difference to... something. (Solith to Ekoth) « It is. » Ekoth confirms, simply. Then there is the image Solith requested. A pretty blonde woman holding the blue-lined llama wool jacket in front of a shortish red-haired man in flight clothes. The blonde wears an expression that is distinctly amused, the red-head one that doesn't seem to find anything strange about this at all. Quirky dragon, quirky rider. « The terms of return are that the owner is to come to the living cavern as soon as possible. The price is that she pay our retainer fee for our assistance in facilitating the return. She will need needle and brown thread. » (Ekoth to Solith) It's convenient, possibly too convenient, that Solith is in fact in a position to accomplish that, and Telavi is not in a position that would prohibit her from accomplishing it either. That was hours ago. But if Ekoth is indeed tracking her, the younger green doesn't seem to think to be concerned, her bemused thoughts a touch more this-way that-way without actually approaching true turbulence. « What for? » She must have been told that, « Needles are precious. » (Solith to Ekoth) More likely it was Tayte who supposed Telavi wouldn't be available for quite some time. There is a sense, an undercurrent, that Ekoth and her rider are simply employed, otherwise they would have no part in any of this. « We have a loose button and we do not like sharp or stabby objects. Or blood. The hostage-taker says your rider can pay this fee. She may keep the needle when she is finished. » (Ekoth to Solith) > « Not the thread? » Solith might be just that guileless. After a moment, « We come, » which may not be true consent, but at least it might be implied. She doesn't even suggest that it could take much time, that Ekoth-- or the blonde woman-- might stand in the cold and wait. (Solith to Ekoth) « Not all the thread. » Ekoth confirms. « A portion will be required. Surely your rider can explain this to you. » She's not going to. She's got better things to do. By the time Solith and her rider arrive, the blonde and redhead are not there, but Ekoth is a pastel limestone sentinel outside the living cavern, her posture perfect and whirling gaze watchful. « They are within with the hostage. Public settings are best for hostage exchanges. » She offers, with all the authority of one who knows. (Ekoth to Solith) Whether that's explained or not, it isn't long before Solith might be glimpsed skimming through the light snow, the late afternoon light silvering the gilt-green of her neckridges. She must have seen Ekoth before, sometime, though also the location must 'help; it's not summer, to have the Bowl outside the caverns positively littered with their kind. No perfect landing for her, by accident or design: hers has a hop at the end, one that just means she gets to fan her wings for balance before hatling enough to let Telavi down. Telavi's quick to scurry into the caverns, wearing her flight jacket and the plum-colored cap, while Solith keeps a fully unlidded gaze on Ekoth regardless of the slow-falling snow. Interested. « Do you do this often? » Whatever 'this' is. « I am very experienced. Why? Are you interested in engaging our services? U'by can give your rider our resume. » The green's attention is split. She's minding Solith. Ekoth watches her as though she might be about to make a wrong move, a sensation of a racing pulse is leaked. There's also a sense that the better part of her attention is on the exchange. Is her mission complete yet? (Ekoth to Solith) "Well, I'm sure it'll go better the next time," Tayte's alto is encouraging. She and U'by have settled with mugs of klah at a table near the entrance to the bowl. The smile the greenrider returns to the vintner is less certain, his head dipping to hide behind drinking his klah. Where U'by's manner is a little uncomfortable, Tayte's is easy, as ever. The Istan has the hostage on the bench beside her. Another dragon might be tempted to twitch all of a sudden-- Telavi would, human or no-- just to see what reaction it triggers. Solith, though? Solith merely curls her wings back along her sides and settles low to the ground; she may be touching the cold, cold, cold snow now, but it will insulate her later. « Maybe! She'll ask. » Why not? Not that Telavi asks straightaway, no, she has the snow to shake off her, the rider and vintner to approach. her own sunny smile to give. "Good day," she says, with a nod to U'by before, "Tayte, thank you." Twitching is something that Ekoth's rider doesn't seem to be able to resist. He fidgets as he sits, a nervous movement once every few moments. Either he's jumpy or well-mannered, or both, because as soon Telavi approaches, U'by is popping onto his feet. He looks awkward once he's there, a little moustache of klah-n-cream foam on his upper lip. He doesn't speak, instead just nodding to Telavi and looking to Tayte. He looks distinctly grateful when she jumps right in to speak to the younger greenrider. "I couldn't abandon it to the whimsies of whomever happened into Snowasis. Experience," Tending bar at Ista Weyr, no doubt, "Predicted you wouldn't be back for it that night." It's offered up, with no muss and fuss about hostages and retainer fees. But U'by does clear his throat, pointing briefly between himself and Tela, the hand moving to run up from the back of his hair toward the front, mussing the red in all directions, as though he were trying to keep Tela from seeing the pointing gesture. Tayte grins in response, though, "I told U'by here that you were good with a needle and he wanted to know if you mightn't mind mending his button." She nods toward the riding jacket he wears. "Such wise experience." Telavi's smiling, her gaze paused on Tayte for a moment as though something might be conveyed thereby; then, though, she accepts her coat just as soon as it's offered, shaking it out by its shoulders in a habitual gesture-- and a quick look-- before draping it over her arm. At least she refrains from sniffing its collar. Nor does she make a show of noticing U'by with his pointing and mussing and all, not until Tayte brings up the bargain, at which point she nods to the vintner in a way that might be so very serious... if it weren't for how not smiling that much means her dimples show. "I'd be glad to oblige," she assures, and turns just enough to hold her hand out to U'by. "Thank you so much for helping her help me," she says. "It's very kind, and I do love that jacket so. Is your button on your own jacket, or off it, as the case may be?" "You spent turns serving drinks to the losers..." Tayte drawls with amusement. Then more seriously, but not prying, "Was everything alright for you? Or hopefully better than alright?" If she did sniff the collar, she might notice that it smells like the delivery of scented bath soap that R'co gave her the evening before. U'by's blue eyes fall to the hand extended and he hesitates, then both of his hands take up hers, shaking her one, too much, really, but maybe that's how enough nervous energy escapes him that he finds his words. His tenor is light but not insubstantial, "Hi, yes, sure, no problem." He stumbles over the words. "I'm sorry about Ekoth. She gets very-- focused when she's given a task. I--" He glances to the garment on Tela's arm. "She should be fine now." Indeed, in the bowl, Ekoth abruptly sinks into what is still good posture for a dragon but to a pose that is serenely relaxed. Not a care in the world. Then he's letting go of Telavi's hand and pulling off his riding jacket, "It's this button here. Still on but loose, and you know how these things go, first it's loose and then it's dangly and--" He makes a little expressive nasal noise, "Before you know it you're out one button, and then you have to change out the whole set so they match," He babbles, coming to an end as his free hand sticks into a pocket and he shrugs that shoulder, "It gets messy." This whole thing has Tayte smiling her silent amusement. If Telavi's eyes are keen, she might see, too, that the Icicle Wing patch is coming loose. It's the tone in Tayte's voice that has Telavi turning towards the vintner, if only partway: she has to keep an eye on U'by, after all. "It was," she tilts her head only to re-tilt it. "You could say it was remarkable. In a better than all right way, even," and now Tela lets her smile emerge, or else it's that she just can't restrain it any longer. Some of that may linger with U'by, even as he takes and shakes and shakes her hand, the greenrider rebalancing just a bit so she won't be uprooted too. "It's all right," she says. "It's fine," she says, not with longing for that focus, or at least not this morning. She sneaks a peek at Tayte while U'by takes off his jacket, and it has to stay a peek if she's going to not wind up laughing after all, but at least then she can regard the other greenrider with something like affection for all that babbling and rambling and all. "It's so, so much better to take care of it now rather than later, I wish more people did," and will he give her his jacket? She wants to take his jacket, summarily reaching out for it before settling herself in a seat next to Tayte. Next to that, the jackets get arranged: her good coat nearer her, only overlapping sleeves with the firestone-smelling riding jacket, while she proceeds to arrange U'by's across her lap. "Actually, would you please bring over another glowbasket, or two?" she asks the greenrider, though her eyes stay narrowed on the garment as she assesses it, and not just on the button or the patch, either. "I could use better light." U'by's jacket is surrendered immediately. Tayte opens her mouth to answer Telavi's words about her flight, but it's tenor that beats alto to a response, after a nervous sort of laugh, "Sounds much better than Ekoth's first flight. And the next. And the one after that, really, and--" His arm folds across his middle, his opposite elbow finding the hand-support now created and his free hand goes to his chin, fingers touching over his lips, as though he knows he might have spoken out of turn. This only heightens the vintner's silent amusement, the close-lipped smile offered to Telavi wide enough that it starts to stretch the freckles on her cheeks, her dimples showing. The male greenrider makes some kind of noise that might be an attempt to vocalize 'Oh, yes, of course, ok' but it comes out in a mumble of unintelligible sound. He turns, eyes seeking glowbaskets, the mutter of the word intelligible, by contrast, as he looks. Then he's found one, so he's moving to retrieve it. While he's gone, the alto chimes in, "You'll have to tell me all about it later. I heard it was your Weyrlingmaster who caught. What fun you could have with that." For all that there's amusement, the blonde delivers this to the other woman with surprising neutrality, perhaps making it all the funnier. The jacket, Telavi will find, is something well-worn, showing turns of use, but clearly preemptive upkeep like this is keeping it in decent condition. It's a soft brown color that seems to suit his fair skin and hair that shares a color with the Weyrlingmaster in question. When Ekoth reaches for Solith's windy mind now, it's with her own sort of insubstantiality. Her touch borders on ethereal, soft and gentle. No trace of the no-nonsense green that spoke with her not long before. She is curious. « U'by says you flew. » The words are there but it seems that in this moment her grasp of the concept is tangential at best. Her curiosity, though, is for an answer to her next question. « Were you your best? » Telavi's intrigued glance up at U'by stays brief, for now; she has work to do, and it's a matter of examining all the jacket's stress points, then running her fingers into the pockets-- which reemerge with her fingers fanned and thus visibly empty, should Tayte be looking-- and temporarily turning the garment inside out to be sure of that lining, too. "I wouldn't want to gossip about my weyrlingmaster," she mentions with a hint of a smile as she does this, while U'by's still absent, "...Not that she'll be my weyrlingmaster forever." If Tayte gets her meaning. If it is her meaning. She holds the jacket up for a last overview, toying with the patch for a moment. After that moment, "I don't even really know how to put it into words for you, Tayte. I don't know if it's a words thing. Maybe I'll figure it out by then?" It could be apologetic, but it's not; her voice is quiet, sharing something different, something that she can share, even if it's not 'later' yet. By the time U'by returns, she'll have selected one of the three needles retrieved from her jacket, each pre-threaded with a different shade of strong, solid brown. So different, and that leads Solith to be curious. There's a sort of agreement there, she did fly, and just minutes ago at that; if Ekoth's rider had meant differently, that green's relative incomprehension of the subject means that Solith doesn't pick it up either. « My best? » It's perplexed, but mostly only due to what Ekoth could mean, best about what; it overlies the pleasant confidence instilled in her that whatever she's been doing, she's done it very well indeed, and been praised. "Don't you know it's not gossip if its coming from the runner's mouth?" Tayte queries, raising her brows. "And when it's among us, it's called girl talk. Or plotting, if you like. But plotting has such a nefarious ring to it." Something about that particular choice of words makes the Istan smirk. "And especially since she won't be your Weyrlingmaster forever, you've got to take advantage of it now. If you think you could get away with it, and are inclined to. So many possibilities. I heard about an Istan weyrling who decided to tease his weyrlingmaster after a flight catch by showing up on her desk. Though, as I recall, that ended up in some naked shame-walking back to his dragon, so maybe not if you think that might be the outcome," This is all delivered in a way that might seem strangely stream-of-consciousness speaking, a little blush at the end. "Er, too much?" She asks, blinking uncertain ocean eyes at the greenrider. But then U'by is arriving with two glows in hand to save Tayte from her own awkwardness. How's that for a role-swap? "Will these work?" He wants to know as he sets them down on the table, "I can find more if you need," He volunteers quickly on the heels of it, looking between the women, perhaps aware that he might have interrupted something. Solith's puzzledness, in turn, confuses Ekoth. What is difficult to understand? « I try to be my best. » comes the insubstantial alto. « It is good to be one's best. » She adds a moment later, as if any of this should help clear up the mutual befuddlement. "Mmm, girl talk." Or yes, 'plotting,' says the teasing quirk of Tela's brows. She listens to the anecdote with a brighter and brighter smile, and then she says all confidentially, "You know, we have two weyrlingmasters, never mind the assistants." Does her smile widen a touch, and naughtily at that, for assistants? "Imagine if the wrong one walked in. Meara must be at least fifty, and she's an amazing woman, but..." But. But. Telavi, so ageist. "Scrubbing would be involved." If only of the weyrlingmasters' desk. Is that reassuring Tayte at all? From there, it's easy for Telavi to smile up at U'by right as he shows up, to assure, "Those are perfect." As she arranges them just so, prior to starting the actual work, "Tayte and I were just talking about our teachers, you see. I had just explained about how we have two weyrlingmasters instead of one; Tayte had an idea about how to thank them for their hard work, and I was about to ask her if she'd surprised her own masters similarly." Yes, Tela slides a bright-eyed glance towards the vintner before asking up to U'by, You only had one weyrlingmaster, didn't you?" Look, she can make small talk and sew at the very same time. Oh! « Yes, » that's something Solith can readily agree with. In fact, « I agree. Especially when it's being our best at sunning. I would like more sun. » But Solith, despite her name, isn't in charge of that. "Well, I suppose there's that." Tayte agrees with a laugh. "And I suppose not all weyrlings want to be mischievous with their weyrlingmasters, even if, as I hear it, you're due for a graduation party quite soon, which means you've probably already been selected into your wings, which sort of means you could probably get away with most anything right now." Is she pointing that out or just rambling? There's a slight pull to her lips that might hint at mischievousness. After all, someone has to create the gossip, right? U'by takes a seat opposite the women, glancing from blonde to blonde, lashes fluttering. It's not a flirtatious flutter, nor a confused flutter, but more the flutter of someone observing two wild animals in their natural habitat. "Oh," is all he manages as a response for Telavi. It prompts a renewed smile from the Istan blonde. Or maybe it's what Telavi asks, "Oh, no. I saved all my wild and wicked ways for the Weyr. I was the best apprentice one could ask for. The Weyr and all my rider blood was my undoing, or so my hold breeding would tell you." Then U'by reaches up to scratch the side of his jaw, thinking, apparently, "Yes, well, no, well, sort of. I mean, we had a lot of help." The way he says that, it sounds more like they needed a lot of help. Maybe that means one weyrlingmaster and many assistants, or more than one weyrlingmaster and assistants, it's really not clear. « I like to lie in the sun. » Ekoth contributes with a simplistic sense of satisfaction. « It is warm. » She further observes. « U'by says there will be more sun soon. We will lie in it when it comes. When the snow is done, he says. » (Ekoth to Solith) For some reason, Telavi doesn't seem to be in a rush to attempt to get away with anything more than she already is. Not that she's not smiling. "I'm sure the Weyr appreciated it very much," she says while securing the button, and for all that she's teasing, there's sincerity and even sympathy there too. "It's," kind of, "like U'by said, help is good. But we, well, Benden anyway... we'd sometimes get the most uptight crafters, it's as though they were saved up just for us. About four, five Turns back was the best, though, we must have gone through five Harpers. Two were posted at once, but it really should still count." Is U'by wondering at all why this is taking so long? She's moved on to the patch, now, lifting it up so he can see how her finger can slip beneath it. "Would you like me to fix this too? I know we only talked about the button, but we could call it credit for my friend, here. There's a bitty hole in your left outside pocket, too, though I don't think you've lost anything into the lining... yet." « Soon, » Solith hopes wistfully, and then at some impulse, rises from her insulated crouch to move close by Ekoth and upwind rather in her lee at that. Would Ekoth like company? Solith can be company. (Solith to Ekoth) "I'm not sure about the Weyr, but certainly there were many who appreciated it. More than I can name," She'll even admit. Tayte's not particularly secretive about that part of her past. "But, new Weyr, new leaf, or something like that." Something like that. "Imagine that," The vintner sounds deeply amused, "Uptight crafters." Then she leans a little toward Telavi, lowering her voice, including U'by in her conspiratorial look, "You didn't hear it from me, and I'm sure it will come as a shock to you, but they're here too. The uptight crafters." Then she breaks into a grin, sitting back up straight. "Five harpers is very impressive though. I wonder if it wasn't because they had you for a student?" It's a teasing tone that carries the words. U'by seems reluctant to interrupt. His blue eyes bounce between one blonde and the next, as though being up close to watch this kind of female bonding isn't an experience he's been much privy to in the past. "Oh, yes, thanks. That'd be great, thanks. A hole? Oh, dear. Um. Yes, if you don't mind?" It's an awkward string of words as he seems to take each part of what she says and process it separately, but the smile is nice enough if a little embarrassed. Ekoth likes company. Particularly friend. Is Solith her friend? The dragon's head tilts to query it silently. She isn't particularly secretive, even as Telavi isn't particularly... surprised? dismayed? something. Certainly she's not stomping up onto her chair to disown Tayte as a friend, potential or otherwise, though it isn't impossible that's because she's already stitching. Not that sewing stops her from an untroubled shrug, a sympathetic-- or is that empathetic?-- smile for that new leaf, nor a display of shock at some of those crafters being here. She even angles a look under the table, as though they could be lurking between their feet. "Not just me," she teases. "And that's exactly it, these crafters aren't my teachers," and now it's singsong, "won't even be my wingleaders." Could there be uptight wingleaders? Never! With that, she finishes securing the badge, hiding the tail of the thread along the way, and switches to one of the remaining needles before emptying the pocket and offering its contents to U'by: the scraps of paper, the little notebook, the jacks that she briefly explains would be so much better in a little leather bag of their own. Apparently she doesn't mind. In fact, "I don't mind at all," just in case it helps U'by to have it out loud. "Wouldn't it be nice if all trades were this easy? You had three things to fix, Tayte here had a message now and two more for later, and I... well, I'm not sure that I remember all the way, but I think I just might owe her a drink." Her smile for them both is winsome, though it holds a hint of apology for Tayte: perhaps for owing, more likely that it's reduced by phrasing to owing. Solith may not have the best grasp on friends, more like companions, but isn't that semantics? Certainly a drift of breeze sends her pleasure to Ekoth: companionableness, affinity, liking of Ekoth as well as dragon-ness so nicely near. "Ahh," Tayte answers Telavi's return tease, arching a brow, "So you are used to plotting to drive your teachers crazy. And here you had me fooled." Amusement plays across her lips, her dimples showing with her smile. U'by might be regretting his request that she repair the pocket as the contents of it are placed on the table, "Oh, they're not mine," He tries to explain, though it's clearly a lie, his awkward expression giving it all away as he adds, "I'm just holding them." His eyes dart like a frightened herdbeast trying to be brave, "For a friend." Because what grown man carries jacks in his pocket. His blush has his whole face pinkening. It's Tayte's turn to come to the rescue as she chimes in to agree, "It would be lovely if it were. One of your wingmates owes me a couple drinks and denied me one during your flight." Woe is her, says her tone, but her face disagrees, as amused as ever. "And we'd best round out the details to this deal. Are the messages for you specifically? Do you expect me to want to chum around with you more than today and when you make good on that drink?" Such a chore, her voice says, but her face still doesn't agree. Ekoth receives and reciprocates those feelings, adding to it serenity, community, a kind of one-in-the-same-ness. (Ekoth to Solith) The weyrling dimples right back at the vintner, not arguing that for a second, no doubt believing it for even less. To U'by, who gets a rounder-eyed glance before she returns to stitching, "Not yours? That's too bad. I haven't played in so long, I'm certainly out of practice. If you wind up learning the game, maybe we could play sometime." The way Telavi says it, it's quite sincere. She's not looking at him, it's safe. And since he said the things were for a friend, why, she doesn't even make to stash them in her pocket. "Denied, Tayte, really? How could he. She? Whichever. Of course the messages needn't be for me, that wouldn't be a proper trade then, would it. That would be taking advantage of you, and we couldn't have that." Evidently this must be verified before any chumming. Solith breathes those in, breathes those out. Ommmmm. (Solith to Ekoth) Wait, what? Tela likes the jacks? That sends U'by back-pedaling, "Oh, well, I mean, I borrowed them so I could play. And if you wanted to play, you could. I could play with you. We could play together." Awkward, awkward. But he manages a smile after all that anyway, albeit it's not a smooth transition from awkward to the smile. So, in essence, he accepts the offer of a playmate. For some time. "She," Tayte then steps in to ease the ambient feeling. "The blondest one. And she did. No manners at all, though at least now she's acknowledging that she owes me some drinks." It's playful griping to be sure. "Sometimes, I'm sure you'd agree, it's nice to be taken advantage of." Which leads into a number of frivolous comments on the contexts where that might be true. Remarkably, and likely purposefully, all are kept clean even between Tela and Tayte doing the chatting, so U'by doesn't need to have a heart-attack just now. They use it as just something to talk about as Telavi finishes her sewing task. It's not long in coming so nothing else of note is said before the three are exchanging smiles, thanks, and farewells. Everyone got their property back and no hostages were harmed. Mission successful. |
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