Logs:Iceberg: A Good Normal Wing
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| RL Date: 14 June, 2014 |
| Who: A'rist, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A'rist just wants to pay for his drinks, but Tayte has questions about Iceberg. A'rist can thank H'vier later. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Fayla/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, R'sig/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| 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.
A'rist emerges from one of those secluded booths, followed by one of Alpine's bronzeriders. It was not a romantic escape, but there are those who might recognise the former weyrling and his former mentor. If they pay that sort of attention. R'sig makes a straight line out, leaving A'rist to gather glasses, and, presumably, pay. At the bar. Tayte must have seen them there earlier, must even now catch A'rist's approach in her periphery, but her eyes are reluctant to leave the exchange. It means that when the young bronzerider reaches the bar, she's not ready with the bill, but she does finally pull her eyes away to take in the glasses he's brought. A casually friendly smile blossoms on her lips as she reaches for the empty glasses. "I'll get your tab," and, "Everything to your liking?" is directed to him as routine, but not lacking in investment; this is a woman who likes her work. A'rist's eyebrows are raised, his face in open affirmation even before he nods, says, "Yeah, it was good," in agreeable enough tones. That might be some of the ale talking, but he seems sincere nonetheless. Hands freed of the drinks, he presses his palms instead to the edge of the bar, casting a quick look over toward those blueriders - he saw her watching them - while drumming his fingertips. "Good," that's easy enough to reply. The drumming doesn't make Tayte tabulate any faster. Nor does the fact that her eyes flick back toward the blueriders a few times before she's directing her gaze back to A'rist and announcing the amount owed. As she's waiting for the marks, her eyes flick across knot and badge. "Iceberg, hm. May I ask you a question?" She probably means one in addition to that one. Nor does it seem to be intended to. A'rist looks back when she has his total, goes digging for the appropriate sum in the pouch on his belt, look suddenly serious, and squarely at his hip. Maybe it's the fine motor skills talking. His head snaps back up to hear the wing name, eyes narrowing - not suspicion, not yet, but certainly speaking to something unexpected. "Sure?" Tayte doesn't seem in a rush to have the marks in hand, instead she leans on the bar, ending up just a little closer to the bronzerider in a way that suggests a question that isn't for all ears. But, "What do you think of Fayla?" is hardly an intimate question. "I mean, how is she as a wingleader?" A'rist stares at Tayte a moment, once that question has been asked, a hint of amusement starting to show on his face, the little twist of his mouth absurd. "I don't know, I guess she runs a good normal wing?" That twist soon takes over the full bottom half of his face, and A'rist leans forward. "Why do you want to know?" Unspoken: you're a bartender, after all. "A good, normal wing." Tayte's lips purse slightly as she contemplates. "Oh, I have terrible taste in men." That's the first part of her explanation which doesn't necessarily make a lot of sense until, "I just wondered if she slept with all her riders or just her wingsecond." Shrug; nothing important. She doesn't even blush about it. "What would a man even see in her?" Evidently Fayla isn't her type. Absurdity to awkward in a matter of seconds. That amusement disappears from the young bronzerider's face, replaced by some strange purse of his lips. "Umm," says A'rist. He's found and is pushing that money over the bar to Tayte. "Maybe it's a rider thing?" Uncertain loyalties make the words trip a little. "Oh, probably." At least Tayte doesn't sound bitter as she accepts the marks and starts to make change from the apron at her waist. "I hear having a dragon makes a woman infinitely more attractive." This is said deadpan but then she's flashing the young man an amused smile. "I suppose as long as you like it in the wing, that's what matters." At least so far as he is concerned. A'rist takes that change. If there was supposed to be some sort of tip, it seems he's forgotten it, tucking it away, and licking his lips, and blinking at Tayte. "Umm," he says, again. "I think what a wing's supposed to do is a lot more... than... that." The words are lacking. He grimaces, and throws a glance over his shoulder, but R'sig, clever R'sig, is long gone. If Tayte minds not being tipped, she doesn't let on. She does lean on the bar top with her forearms, leaning a little forward. If she were wearing a low cut top, he'd be able to see right down it, so maybe this explains why hers buttons to just under her chin. "Well, it'd be cruel to leave me in ignorance, bronzerider. What is a wing supposed to do?" It could be she's teasing him, but there's a look to her eyes and expression that invites a genuine answer to meet her genuine curiosity. A'rist sees those buttons, not that he'd meant to look. And when he sees them, eyes are on the woman's face again, for all they have trouble staying put in any sort of solid way. Beer. "Well..." If she is teasing, he's missed it, "Wings are supposed to make dragons and riders better. And better together. So that they whole Weyr's stronger 'cause everyone's sort of..." And still missing words, he just brings his hands together, fingers interlacing, curling, so that when he tugs his arms in opposite directions, they don't come undone. "They're supposed to give you a spot." Then, with a total falling away of every bit of professionalism, "And go drinking with, too." "The drinking is, I'm sure, the important part." Tayte looks amused, but she listened with attention to the whole thing. "So is that what Iceberg does for you and all of its members?" If she has any comment about how Fayla found H'vier a place under her, she doesn't make it aloud. A'rist finds the wisdom to close his mouth and stare at the bartender for a moment. "How come you're so interested in Iceberg anyway?" Point blank, with all the brashness of a seventeen-turn-old full of alcohol. "Oh, I'm interested in all of them, really. Bartending is a good gig to learn a lot about one's home. But you could say I have a special interest in Iceberg because H'vier doesn't talk about it much." Although given that H'vier apparently slept with Fayla, shouldn't she maybe care less now? Tayte shifts to reach for a rag to rub across where she'd been leaning. "I like to listen and I thought you might have something to say about it. Most riders do." "Oh," says A'rist, wasting little time in moving on to, "Well I kind of said everything I have to about that though." Shoulders are lifted in a shrug, and he shifts his weight, which had come to be balanced on both feet, off to one side. "Anyway, thanks for the drinks and everything." "You're welcome, rider. Thanks for your insight." She seems to mean that. "Come back anytime." Snowasis will gladly take his marks. Tayte will let one of the younger, pretty servers explain to him about tipping sometime. For now she flashed him a friendly smile and turns to refresh the rag. "Always do," A'rist nods, trying a bit of a smile on her, and then... fleeing. He'll be back, of course, with the gratuity that is more his norm - provided no one asks him about the sex lives of his wingleaders, anyway. |
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