Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr(#1803RJ)
About as high up the bowl wall as it is possible to get before hitting clear sky, right up against the rim, this ledge is tiny, narrow and not terribly inviting. Though angled towards the sun, there's not enough room to properly stretch out, and that same angle ensures it receives the worst of bad weather, with no shelter whatsoever. From above, there's not even an obvious passage inside, as if this particular ledge is, in the end, nothing more than a natural outcropping. It's only from atop the ledge itself that the cleverly concealed entrance becomes clear, angled into the stone as it is.
Inside, there's a cavernous space, more than making up for the stinginess of the ledge. There's one large main room, and a much smaller back room that could probably be used as a bedroom - if this weyr were in traditional usage. Instead, the main cavern is largely filled with a collection of mismatched tables and chairs. Towards the back, there's a bar made out of old, recycled wood, manned during peak hours; there's plenty of alcohol on display behind it, though most of it tends towards the cheaper end of the range. Old, but still impressive, hangings cover the walls, all depicting scenes of High Reaches in glory. The back room has been turned into a storage area, with several cases of whisky and a variety of other spirits ready and waiting.
A strange pipe contraption comes through the ceiling and towards the stone floor, where a large bucket sits beneath it. A lever turns on water from the pipe: fresh rain or snow, ready for drinking.
It's indeed the next day after their little side trip to the Igen desert, the evening seeing the still sober but not-as dour Alida up in the Lounge, sitting in a corner table - as often seems to be her wont - the blonde taking slow pulls off a tankard of some beer or another. One hand busy with lifting and setting down her drink, the other finds something more animated to 'toy' with at her neckline: the small head and neck of a certain gold firelizard, who is mostly concealed under the pale cascade of the bluerider's unbound hair.
"Thank you Brenda, I will see you tomorrow night." The once scribe calls over the din, tossing her rag into the bucket at the end of the counter. It's one of those rare nights where Edyis isn't working the evening shift, as she grabs a cider and moves over to the bluerider's table with a tired grin. "Well it's nice to see your mood has improved." She probably means the rider rather than the breathing scarf that is Pyrite
The bluerider's vert gaze follows Edyis as the once-scribe enters her line of sight, the unannounced 'patronage' of 'her' table allowed, though - once Ed's done speaking - the still subdued blonde responds in low, blandly clipped fashion, "Don' ever assume I'm willing ta tolerate company just 'cause it's familiar." A pointed look - neither heated nor cool - from tsavorite eyes adds a little more weight behind the small admonishment, 'lida then rolling one shoulder slightly at Ed's words before inquiring, "You slept well? Had time ta think?" Behind the rider's neck, Pyrite gives a soft, lazily buzzing little churr to the erstwhile bartender, faceted green eyes reflecting like little jewels between strands of hair.
There's a crook of her right eyebrow at the response from the bluerider, which melts into a deeper confusion. "Plenty of time to realize I fouled up several times." She notes with a furrow of her brow and a soft sigh. "I don't assume you will tolerate anything either, every time it is a gamble. Will I get thrown off a ledge today or not? Keeps things from being dull." She quips in reply.
Well then, at least that's done with...and such is the look on Alida's face when Edyis announces her apparently continual readiness to deal with her 'sensei's' whims of temperament. A small bob of the bluerider's head sends a skein of hair to rippling in the glowlight - Pyrite idly nosing at the strand, trying to groom it back into place - before the woman launches into a laconic, "What *did* ya do wrong?" A long, slow pull from her beer follows, along with her typical flicker of eyes over all and sundry in the lounge, this night.
Edyis leans back in her chair, with a soft exhalation. "Gave my real name for one, talked far too much, far too soon. Didn't wait to get enough of a lead, I certainly didn't put anyone at ease, I jumped to improper conclusions, misunderstood when they mentioned bad blood, I assumed they meant between Aishani and the trader families, not the weyr." She catches her breath, in an almost gasp. "Would you like me to keep going?"
The bluerider merely listens, her features quiet, free hand at times idly toying with Pyrite's tail between sips of her beer. This presents a perhaps odd site to the unknowing eye, given who it originates from: as though the often-tough, gruff guard might be girlishly coiling a bit of her hair around a finger. With Edyis' near-gasp for a refreshing breath comes 'lida's small bob of head, and perhaps the faintest of darkly-humored sparkles in those green eyes.
She sucks in another sharp breath, "I didn't ask what you did to help because they seemed incredibly uncomfortable about the subject. I'd wager because there's either been a case of leprosy or some other contagious illness that would make the trade route harder. A guitar qualifies as a weapon, and harper hall and the craft halls aren't worth two 1/32th marks. I was unprepared, adapted far too slowly, nearly blew your cover... Have I left anything out?" Panting a little for breath as she halts.
If the bluerider feels any compassion for Edyis, it doesn't show, Alida continuing to watch her student, listen to the cascade of words - all accurate - that fall from the not-scribe's lips like a babbling brook. Sip, pet-pet. And while the bartender's again sucking in much needed breaths, Alida's again remaining silent, her intense, though thoughtful gaze moving to focus on something at Ed's clavicle...as though some large spot of food is stuck there. When her voice finally comes, it might be a bit of a shock to Ed, since it's almost mellow, and rather out of left field, after all the silence. "You came really close ta compromising *them*, not ta mention potential, future interactions between them, me." Sip. And just as suddenly, "*Anything* c'n be a weapon, under the proper circumstances, in the proper hands."
Absent fingers brush at her collar bone, though they find nothing there to brush away. Still dark eyes focus on the bluerider, perplexed. She considers the words carefully studying the cider in her mug, lips pursing. "The weapon part I understand." The implication is clear that it is the other accusation which she doesn't understand. "I don't know them, don't know their secrets, don't know what they might be hiding, how could I have compromised them?" The sweet soprano lowers in register to just above a whisper.
Giving the faintest of nods when Edyis brushes at her collarbone, Alida finally moves her gaze from there back to the other woman's eyes, studying her reactions and expression as the not-scribe speaks. More drinking leads to another question, and this one Alida answers with a certain hint of dusty wryness, "You ever been among the gypsies fer any length uv' time?" If Edyis answers 'No' - which is quite likely - the blonde continues quietly, "They have some different rules than outside society. Some shit the average Pernese're touchy about wouldn' even make them blink...while other crap most uv' Pern might barely even notice..." A small fuzzle of Pyrite's little headknobs transitions into a murmured, "Even inadvertently, if ya' bring up certain subjects, call inta' question particular things with a gypsy..."
"Seems like something that should be explained to someone who hasn't had quite such experiences." She points out softly, though not accusingly. Trailing her finger over the rim of her glass, with an air of someone whose used to researching a topic before diving in. Still there is no argument, "So I should have just sat quietly and observed, is what you are getting at."
The younger Alida of Turns ago might've snapped back at Edyis for her temerity, but this blonde just continues to stare at the other female, though one pale brow lofts just slightly with the 'tender's assertion. To the younger woman's final rebuttal comes the bluie's measured, "It's somethin' one finds out with time, experience... 'r earlier, if they're lucky." Sip. "Observation's rarely ever fully passive...like ya probably know, already." Cue a wintry little smirk for her tablemate. "Life rarely gives ya explanations before the lessons. Be ready ta react off the cuff, as well and as quickly as possible."
Edyis nods quietly, properly chastised, "Fair enough, one more error to learn from I suppose." Tilting her head before those eyes lift from her drink to focus on Alida's green eyes. "No, that would be far too easy if everything came with an instruction manual."
"Errors 'r fine... just don't make too much uv' a habit out uv' 'em...and don't let yer errors be at critical junctures..." Alida murmurs around a bitter little hint of a smirk-smile before taking a sudden, deep draught of her brew. One deep sigh later finds the bluerider nodding at Edyis' words of manuals, the blonde then morphing the expression into a slow shake of her head. "Been doing some rootin' around, since Aishani..." Not wanting to speak more of sudden deaths, the bluie quickly continues, "Word has it that the old Weyrwoman Satiet was a kind'uv' spinner queen..." sitting at the focus of her web, plucking strings and manipulating people. "And while I'm fairly sure Azaylia's not all open kindness an' gentility, she seems ta be the opposite, overall." Beat. "One's gotta fall somewhere between those two extremes."
Edyis considers the topic change, with a lift of her shoulders. "People who want power are more apt to get their hands dirty or use the means at their disposal to obtain it. Azaylia does not need to use alternative methods, she has the senior knot, and no one stupid is enough to try to challenge her authority in that role. Nor does she seem the sort to seek power for its own sake. While I do not think we will ever have cause to be close, she is someone I can respect as a leader, even if we would likely disagree on method."
Is it truly a change of topics? Alida gives no indication of her thoughts on that subject, the blonde merely grunting at Edyis' vocalizations, and retreating back into her beer, her occasional stroking of a now-somnolent Pyrite's form. Give her some long seconds of thoughtful silence, and the bluerider will softly murmur, "Don't bother tryin' ta locate them again." The gypsies. "No ill-will, but..." Shrug. Some things must remain in the shadows.
Edyis curves a brow at the statement. "You say that as though you would expect me to try?" Curious, tilting her head, before dropping her gaze to her glass and downing the last of cider. "I'm not stupid enough to attempt a test without the instructors permission." The legs of her chair sliding aganst the floor as she pushes back.
"This *ain't* a 'test,'" Alida notes with a subtle hint of intensity to Edyis, her green eyes locked to the other female's dark ones. "You'd likely call it a passage from that manual." Word of warning, then? Don't fuck it up. As the once-scribe rises, the rider remains seated, grasping the handle of her stein, eyes now mulling what's inside it for a moment. "In the next couple 'a sevens, I wanna' go with ya' ta' meet up with this Jadzia fer yer next round with 'er." Beat. "Don't mention it to 'er." And, apparently, that stands in for a farewell.
Edyis lifts a brow at the last, but nods to the last. Thoughtfully. "Probably needs to be the next one. There won't be too many more one on ones." And with that she departs.
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