Logs:Just Business
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| RL Date: 13 July, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, H'vier, Reisoth, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Who says H'vier and G'laer can't be friends? |
| Where: Teisyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 4, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Oliwer/Mentions, Reniler/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| Teisyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr A broad and welcoming ledge, wide enough to accommodate two medium-sized dragons slants slightly towards the Bowl, turns of landings on its edge having worn the stone down to a smooth finish. Along one side of the ledge a rocky outcropping hugs the outward curve of the ledge, providing some shelter against wind and rain for a tiny terraced garden. Currently, the beds contain a variety of herbs, sturdy plants that in the right season give off the heady scents of sage, rosemary and thyme. The wide maw of the weyr opens up onto a fairly standard couch-space, with hooks in the walls and a storage container for dragon-care equipment. A sturdy woolen curtain separates couch from weyr to keep out the elements.
Teisyth is hardly a clingy green, flights willfully forgotten virtually as soon as passions have cooled, but she is a friendly one. Since Reisoth is clever and Teisyth is, er... not quite a match that way, the bronze has had virtually any information he's seeking from her with only the occasional reticence over something truly taboo or difficulty keeping the whimsical green's mind on the topic at hand. He hasn't yet encountered the problem of G'laer listening in and putting a stop to over-sharing, but it'll come. The bizarre flavors of copper and pistachio greet the coolness with enthusiasm. « Howdy do, Reisoth! I'll tell 'im. » And presumably she does whilst rambling about that morning's lengthy chin-scratching from Oliwer. « I tell you, everybody needs to get an extra set of scratchin' hands fer when their person is busy. » She concludes before continuing without transitions. « He wants t'know what fer. I dun tried tellin' him that visitin' is just what friends do from time t'time, but he said somethin' about being friends with with a wild wherry before-- nevermind. He said I was t'ask. » Clearly, G'laer is tuned in this time. Gasp. Reisoth would never talk to Teisyth just to glean information off of her for his and his rider's benefit. Not just. While he relays the so very sad fact that he doesn't overly enjoy being touched anymore than is strictly necessary, the bronze's bitter antisepticness experimentally, if lazily, washes over some of that copper tang. « H'vier would like to speak with him about work. He believes that yours will be interested in what he has to say. » Nope! Stiiiill tangy, but it sets Teisyth guffawing. « That there tickles, Reisoth! » Surely this was not the severe bronze's intention. It's some moments later when she joyfully relates, « He says you can come visit! But only the ledge. But that's the best part! » So that's all that matters right? The bronze withdraws slowly, like tendrils of pipe smoke dissipating into the cool, open air. « That will be acceptable. Thank you, Teisyth. » There's even a spark of enthusiasm to go with his thanks. Probably an attempt to echo, if not match, the green's joyfulness. It's not long before the dark dragon is landing on said ledge and depositing his rider. Reisoth rumbles a more physical greeting to the green as he asks, « Are we to stay here as well? » She and him, presumably. G'laer is waiting on the ledge, standing in the entryway to the inner weyr. Another man in a similar position to G'laer might have his arms crossed, but G'laer's are at his sides, ready. Teisyth is an extreme contrast to his stillness as she's wiggling when Reisoth lands, her bugle-honk an exuberant greeting to the bronze. « He says we can go flyin'! » And if G'laer also says something about 'so long as H'vier doesn't mind trying to fly under his own power should the need arise'... well, that part wasn't important, right? She's jumping immediately into the air, a graceless leap that might as well be a sort of belly flop until her wings spread wide to catch on the wind. It might be important but, then again, H'vier isn't intending on anything like flying under his own power being necessary. He doesn't seem to have any strong feelings one way or another when Reisoth drops off of the ledge to follow Teisyth into the air, either. Super chill, yo! "G'laer," he greets the greenrider as though he's not a man that has sort of tried to kill his sort of weyrmate and vice versa. He even grins when he asks, "How's that shoulder of yours?" "H'vier." G'laer doesn't sound glad to see him. Of course, it's G'laer, so he also doesn't sound displeased either. "Still recovering." Though simple tasks are no longer a problem, G'laer certainly can't carry heavy loads or behave as usual. He doesn't grin, or even smile, but maybe that's worse when he asks, "And your thigh? Not limping?" H'vier doesn't take any of G'laer's neutral behavior personally. Even though he has every reason to believe that it is personal. Maybe that's part of why he doesn't. "Good as new," he assure the greenrider, whether that's actually the case or not. And he doesn't seem to be limping as he moves to close some of the distance between them, so there's that. Small talk, even of this arguably larger nature, is not G'laer's cup of tea. Without further ado, he asks, "What do you want, H'vier?" "I want you to lighten up, man. We're all friends here." Of course H'vier doesn't actually believe that, but it's better to pretend than to mess around with the alternative. "You have an impressive skillset, G'laer. Useful." He doesn't even add 'for a greenrider!' Progress! "I could use a man like you." The emphasis on that word suggests G'laer knows perfectly well what he could use him for. Dream on, H'vier. "Our dragons are friends. We are currently not maiming each other. I think friends is a bit of an overstatement." The greenrider looks at the bronzerider, his expression unchanged and still emotionless. "You want me to work under you." It can be no coincidence that G'laer chooses the word "under" to describe the hierarchy under discussion. Fine, then. H'vier's demeanor shifts almost instantaneously from something moderately friendly to something more reflecting their somewhat tense, more than a little forced neutrality to one another. He sighs out a breath through his nose, studying G'laer for his choice of words for a moment before offering, "I want you to work under someone else. And... collaborate with me." Much better word. G'laer watches H'vier. "Would you really prefer we pretend to be friends? Is that easier for you than the truth of things?" Which is not, in any way, answering the matter at hand. "I don't really give a fuck either way, greenrider. Are you interested or not?" That's what's important to H'vier right now. Not whether they're pretending to be anything they may or may not be. "I ask questions." As if that isn't obvious. "If you don't really want to answer that one, I can't see you being very open to answering any of the other ones. Like who do you want me to work for?" G'laer arches a single brow quizzically at the larger man. "Look. You're a big enough dick without actually acting like one." Possibly like himself. "It would be a lot easier to not want to break your nose if we're at least pretending to be friendly. I'm under no illusions that we will ever be friends. I don't generally do friends. And I'm not going to answer every question you throw at me just because you want to know." H'vier, arms at his sides, lifts his brows in that 'understand?' sort of way. "No names yet. I'm still prepping them for the referral. But they pay well. And I don't pay half bad, either." "I think you're expecting too much with friendly. I can manage civil. If it would help, I could take you to the best whore house I know." The way he says it suggests some knowledge of such things beyond the passing visit. G'laer shifts, walking toward the boxes of herbs on the ledge. "No, I wouldn't expect so, but I will expect you to answer the ones I want to know that will get you my particular talents. Life is about more than pay and as you might imagine, I'm not strapped for pocket marks." He did once make a living out of his talents. "Let's call me an independent contractor for now. You bring me a job. I ask you questions. You answer them, or don't and we'll go from there." He says it all in a tone that's quite reasonable. Then his eyes move to H'vier's, "And Oliwer knows nothing of my involvement. That is non-negotiable and there will be consequences if that agreement is ever breached." Probably really unpleasant ones, but he doesn't need to threaten. "You're useful, greenrider. Not essential," says H'vier without commenting on the whore house, surprise surprise. He watches G'laer as he moves, though. "I could have any of my junior wingriders do what I want them to do. But I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to do what you're good at." Appreciate might not be quite the right word. It's pretty clear that G'laer doesn't appreciate H'vier being here to offer in the first place. "Relax." Turn of phrase. "I have no interest in speaking to your healer, let alone telling him your secrets." "And these opportunities are nice but not necessary, for me." G'laer counters as he picks up a watering can and steps closer to the plants. "I can see why it would be difficult for you to think of me as a man with scruples, but I am. If you're looking for stupid and subservient who'll do any job, you're barking up the wrong tree." It's all delivered passionlessly as he waters the plants. "I'm not opposed to collaborating, but I charge an awful lot more for 'no questions asked' assignments." He must believe H'vier on the matter of Oliwer or perhaps he knows H'vier isn't willing to risk his family. "They aren't exactly necessary for most of us," says H'vier like he thinks it's a silly argument for a dragonrider to be making. Even during an interval. "Don't insult me. If I'd wanted stupid and subservient, I wouldn't be here." Which is kind of a compliment, really. "Ask your questions, then." His tone suggests he ought to ask questions he's likely to give answers to. To save them both time. "If you don't have a particular job in mind right now then I don't have any questions." G'laer responds simply, pausing to poke a finger into the dirt on the plant bed before adding more water. "I want you to accept the offer you're given once I convince them to take you on on my word. It's easy work. Earn their trust." H'vier studies G'laer while he waters his plants. "When I hit your healer," he begins. Maybe he shouldn't bring that up, but he continues because he probably figures G'laer will be interested, "I was supposed to be delivering a package to his father. I don't deliver packages to innocent, boring people." You know, like Oliwer. G'laer is silent as he finishes watering the plants. It's once he sets the watering can back on the part of the ledge that will let it collect rainwater that he turns to face the bronzerider. "Okay." Just like that. He doesn't even ask questions about Oliwer's father. Though that can't be something he'll leave to lie long. "All I want is to know anything of interest that they might say to you. What sorts of jobs they give you. Who they're for." Etcetera. "Nothing difficult." Basically, H'vier wants another set of eyes and ears on the competing operation. "It shouldn't take up much time. And it shouldn't be dangerous." Not physically, anyway. "Unless you agree to take on more dangerous jobs. That's between you and them." This takes less time, "Okay." It sounds like agreement. But there is the tiniest chance, since this is G'laer, that it's acknowledgement of what H'vier wants, and not actually a guarantee he'll get it. H'vier certainly doesn't look all that pleased by this response. He stares at the greenrider for a few moments before he's starting to move. "Fine. Let me know. There are more reliable," less skilled, "people I can offer the opportunity to." Reisoth is already on his way back to the ledge, but he's done what he can to give Teisyth an enjoyable romp through the sky. "I'm perfectly reliable." G'laer responds, stepping toward the bronzerider, but not too near, of course. "What is it you want to hear me say?" Teisyth, for her part, has been thrilled, of course. It's rare when she isn't, and now she's merrily following the bronze back to her ledge, though she doesn't make move to land. "More trustworthy, then," amends the bronzerider. It can't be any surprise that H'vier doesn't trust G'laer. Likely no more than G'laer trusts him. "It doesn't do me much good to tell you what I want to hear." This, at least, makes H'vier offer a small, if not overly friendly, smile. And now that Reisoth has landed, the bronzerider is turning to join him. "The good news is we have already laid the groundwork for trust." If one can call mutually assured destruction groundwork for trust. "But we'd both be very stupid if that kind of thing happened overnight." G'laer observes. "I'll tell you what you want to know. It's only fair as I get to ask my questions." And there's something to be said for fairness, even if G'laer doesn't always observe such things. "Good," says H'vier as he meets Reisoth. The bronze eyes the greenrider silently while his rider glances back at him. "I'd much rather work with you than against you, G'laer." And that's saying something for a man that doesn't tend to think very highly of male greenriders in particular. "Smart." That counts as a compliment in turn from G'laer. He doesn't move, watching the other man as he moves to depart. He probably won't move until they've departed and Teisyth has landed in their place. No comment from H'vier about that but he offers a brief, amiable sort of nod to the greenrider before he's mounting and Reisoth is dropping off of Teisyth's ledge with a cool press of farewell to the green. |
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