Logs:Life In The Cracks
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 20 May, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Sabella |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo takes Sabs out for some mentor/mentee catch-up. They touch on Greenfields, men, recent events and things weyrling. |
| Where: Seedy Tavern, High Reaches Area |
| When: Day 3, Month 11, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, E'sren/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, S'varis/Mentions |
  |
| The bar is comfortably crowded enough this early evening that should anyone wants to seek a private conversation out in public, it can be achieved. It's one of those bars that really doesn't have a name, or, it does and it's just not memorable enough. Either way, Jo is arriving with Sabella at her side on the threshold, in her usual black leathers and the usual missing shoulderknot that declares her to be a dragonrider of this region. She strides in with the usual presence of one that owns whatever place her boots touch, immediately finding a table towards the back that would give them a good enough view of everybody else in the establishment. She elbows the weyrling and jerks her head in the empty table's direction before heading there, and chooses a seat that faces the crowd. "Good night for pickpocket pickin's, here," she notes casually for Sabs' ears alone, already wiggling two fingers in the air for one of the passing barmaids. For all that she doesn't seem the type at the Weyr, Sabella appears at ease when they enter the dirty bar. She doesn't have the powerful presence that the bluerider does, but there's the effect of a person well accustomed to themselves about the way she walks. Her shoulderknot is absent as well, as is the canvas sack she's usually seen with. It's just the greenrider in her riding leathers this evening, slipping into the seat nearest to Jo. Her remark has the girl smiling crookedly. "It is, but I've been told to keep myself out of trouble. Remember?" Not that she'd caught, but still. Rules as they are. There's a bit of a titter from Jo for Sabella's answer, regarding the crowd of patrons. "All that will end in due time," she assures, looking to the weyrling with a knowing look. "And, rather, ya can appear to be keepin' out of trouble, like I did. I was never a stickler for rules, myself." There's a card table a few paces away from theirs, its inhabitants looking tense as they pore over their own hands. "Heard ya got into a bit of tension," speaking of, the bluerider notes now in her usual humor. "Recently." Then one of the barmaids come by, getting her to pause in any further musings. "Yer finest, strong," she tells her, and then looks to Sabella for her order. She's all laid back and leaning back with her jacket opened down the middle and her arm draping over the back of her chair, looking like one of the tough-made winding down after a long day. "Better safe than sorry. I don't have a reason to be doing anything now. Better to keep my hands to myself." Sabella's smirk remains. The order she gives to the barmaid is for a simple ale, nothing that's terribly strong or would knock a person off of their feet. At the mention of tension she exhales quickly and looks at least a little embarrassed for the situation. "I let the Weyr get the best of me, I started to really think about things. I started to ask questions." There's a shrug. "Then I asked them of our Weyrwoman." Her smile turn wry now, "It went poorly. Anyway, I'zech wouldn't let me turn my silver thread in. We ended up talking and- I mentioned some things that I shouldn't have." She stretches her legs out and unbuttons the front of her jacket to reveal the more feminine blouse beneath. "He wants to know who searched me now. I think he's going to hunt around for the information, if it sticks in his mind to." "Or brush yer hands on others," Jo counters the first in a light tease, nodding to the barmaid once their order is away. "Yer doin' fine, though. Ya, and Sybile and Canie. Such good girls compared to me and Kait and how we were." Oh, the stories. "Needless to say that Lanvec's pleased. Ya know that." She turns to the matter involving I'zech, though a brow lifts upon hearing there was an altercation with the Weyrwoman. "Really think about what?" it's her turn to question, her voice casual. "What did she say to ya? And, ya were goin' to give up the silver thread?" Clearly something has happened, and the bluerider turns at an angle so that Sabella gets her full attention now to hear more about this. The last part doesn't make her change her expression, suggesting that indeed, Tacuseth has told her about his brief conversation with Ghislaith. "They put you into all these extra classes and learning. The expect you to ask questions, to really think. But then you start to think and you start to ask and wonder why a thing could be or why another thing would be allowed to continue. You want to know what a person would do about something." Sabella lifts her shoulders upwards, helplessly. "Then you start to actually ask. She made me feel like I was something on the bottom of her shoe. And why? Because she happened to impress gold? Her weyr is out of control. If they don't want people to wonder what's going on they shouldn't encourage it." She exhales then, still frustrated in some way with the whole experience. "It doesn't matter. I'm not going to quit anyway, I'll go until the end." With Sabella talking, Jo's not interrupting. Her dark piercing gaze stays for the most part on the weyrling's face as she spills, her brows lightly furrowing on the parts involving questions. Towards the end, the barmaid returns with their drinks and she takes up hers and drops a mark piece that's enough to cover their drinks and more. "Keep'em comin'," she sends to the young woman waiting, then once the payment is taken, "This is Shani we're talkin' about, right?" she gives casually, taking a taste of the strong drink before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds like her. I wouldn' take that as anythin' personal, darlin'. She and I didn' get along in the beginnin', either." Barring that, as she sets the mug down and nudges Sabella's own towards her, "Still," she continues to say, "ya have a point. Folks should question. The Weyr does look out of control, and that's a good thing for those like us," and she'll even jerk her head to indicate those shady-looking ones around them. "So question anyway. Ya've a right to it. I wonder what questions ya have, though. Can ya ask others? Different people, givin' ya different perspectives. One of the reasons why we're here, right? To ask the hard questions." That last gets a quick nod and pleased, "Good. I notice yer likeable with this sort," meaning those at the Weyr. "Yer makin' friends, rubbin' shoulders. Sybile and Canie don' have that, and we need that." "Yes, that's the one." Sabella admits, accepting her drink when it arrives at the table. She flashes the server a quick, polite smile before returning to the conversation. "It's not even her exactly. It's all the people that are like her. I knew it when I was in Crom, there were people that had things and people who didn't have things. And even in the Weyr, it's that way too. You're either someone or you're not. And if you're not? You're nothing to them. I just let myself think things could be different, but they can't. They won't be. Not for someone like me. I'll be glad when this weyrlinghood is over and I can slip through the cracks agan." She shakes her head, taking a long draw from the mug. "At least then I'll be comfortable, not watched." Her smile returns again, the corners of her mouth turning up crookedly. "Yeah, at least I have that going for me now. I don't think that I'll be doing a lot of asking, figure I've got a good idea of what's going on. A whole lot of chaos." Waving her hand then, shifting to another topic. "I didn't know you and I'zech impressed together." Leaning a bit forward, "I would say that no place is different from the other, darlin'," Jo states on the Weyr and its people. "Just cuz that place gives ya food, and shelter? That makes them better to ya? Decent?" She shakes her head and takes a drink in the pause. "We are to blend with them, act like them, appear to be like them, but make no mistake, Sabs," she tells her with her dark gaze intent. "They ain' us. They dunno our struggle, and they'll never know who we really are. No matter how high we rise. No matter who we fuck or who we ally ourselves to. We're always on the fringe." Leaning away now, "It's hard, I know, but we can' forget that. I don'. It's why I can sleep well at night through all this shit goin' on around us, darlin'. Cuz no matter who leads the Weyr or not, we still are solid. We still have a job to do." She lets that sink in, it being a heavier topic before she now permits herself a crooked smile and a, "Slip through the cracks. Shit, ya sound like me'n the way I was when I was a weyrlin'. Slipped under cracks for a good, solid seven turns through all the leadership drama, and it suited me just fine. Hear-tell it, though, ya got friends that might not like havin' their Sabella ghostin' all the time." There's laughter on the pronouncement of chaos, seeming to like it enough that the shift in topic is seamless. She downs most of her drink then for the last before she nods once and answers, "Couldn' tell? He's about as fucked up as the lot of us in that class. Folks thought our dragons were corrupted back then, too. Guess if ya look at Rojeth, Tac, Hiyudath, there's probably some truth to it." Not that it matters to her by her expression. "He and I ain' close," she admits offhandedly, "but outta the whole class, he and I got along if ya can count him glarin' me down half the time. He knows stuff about me, and I know stuff about him. He doesn' know about Greenfields or about how M'ron and Kait got 'searched', but he's the suspicious sort. I think he's always suspected somethin' wasn' right with us, but if ya've noticed, he ain' all golden lilies himself. Like him cuz he gets the reality of things, even in his twisted way. He's not bad to have at yer back, even if cautiously," she muses now. "It could be a decent place." Sabella would argue back, pausing to drink from her mug. She listens to the rest of what Jo says with a certain amount of reluctance, the sort that comes from a person that was conceiving of a different path. But has more recently had a roadblock thrown in the way, a little bit of reality. A reminder of how things really are. "I know that. I don't know that the friends I have are ever going to understand, if they're capable of it. Like you said. If E'sren knew, he'd want me to be someone else. Or worse, he'd want to help me stop. I don't know that I really want to stop. I don't know how to be any other sort of person." She shakes her head, breathing out. "I just hope he never asks anything hard." As for the other topic, she begins to smile once more. This time it's with more open amusement, the hint of her shining personality. "I sort of like him. He's honest, in his own way." And for the rest, "I suppose it seems clear enough now. But I never thought to ask. He's from Crom." She states, but it sounds as if she suspects Jo already knows this much. "I had a friend there, his name was Gordo. Or that's what he said his name was. He used to take care of me when he could. I saw I'zech with him, at least once. I drew him into one of my sketches, turns ago." She takes another drink. "I didn't remember or think about him until I saw him come into the barracks. I had to go through all of my sketchbooks just to find it. But there he was." Her smile is sly. "He didn't seem happy about that when I gave it to him, but I think he got over it." "I agree," Jo states quickly on the first. "That's natural. The Weyr is Ghislaith's home. Tacuseth's home. It's somewhat ours, too. If Greenfields struggled, we'd want the same. But." She drains her mug, and her gaze darts about for the same barmaid. "We can' forget. We wouldn' be at the Weyr if not." Gaze falling on Sabella then, detecting that reluctance with a wry grin, "Do what ya must," she states, hands spread and lifting out. "Just watch yer ass, alright? Get in too deep, not even one of us will be able to pull ya out. Self-preservation. We need it in the end of all this. E'sren." She tastes the name, arches a brow at her now in amusement as if welcoming her to talk about him. "Ya sort of like him? He someone to be trusted?" Since she has no opinion of him; she hasn't met him. "Honest. Hard to find in our profession, ain' it?" There's a snort for that and as the barmaid comes by with a new mug for her and Sabella, "I have one of those," she actually admits now, the grin more genuine than cocky. "I more than sort of like him. I tried not to. Really did, but....he's honest, too. Doesn' judge. Sometimes with him, I can forget that I'm....different. Z'ian." By now, it's not really a secret since they've been seen in each other's company. So that, she gets it. On I'zech, she nods upon hearing he's from - she's definitely known - but this Gordo is someone new and her interest is apparent. "Ya hardly talk about yer time before ya came to us," idly notes as she reaches for the filled mug, regarding the weyrling for a long moment. "Thought maybe ya were one of those born at the hold, at first. I'zech was upset over bein' sketched, or bein' caught?" She's amused by this - one can believe this bit is being mentally filed away. Then, "Bastard's a shady sonnuva, so he ain' gonna be a problem for us. As many secrets we got, he has, too. Ya outta check out his place when ya can fly there," she notes slyly. "The Rusty Nail. We hang there more often than not. Take care of business there and he looks the other way." "I know that's how it is." Sabs replies ruefully finishing her mug of ale and reaching for the second. There's a moment, a pause where she decides if she's truly going to drink from the next round. It passes quickly and she takes a sip, cradling the mug in her hands. "More than sort of. I do really like him, he's one of my best friends. I feel bad that they don't know everything, but. There's always that little part of me that will be waiting for the other shoe to fall, you know?" At her revelation that she has some kind of man involved in her life, that takes up the greenrider's attention. Perhaps she doesn't know. Weyrlings don't get to hear a lot of rider gossip. "If he's so accepting, maybe you're not so different from him as you think." She muses thoughtfully. "Z'ian was the one I was talking to Aishani about. You mingle with all sorts." The weyrling notes as she takes another delicate pass at her ale. "I was born at Crom. I just- I don't normally like to talk about it. It's not a pretty upbringing. Not that many of us have that." Her head shakes then, amusement apparent again. "Both perhaps? It's not as if we know each other really. He didn't remember me. But I was young- younger then." As if that's something that could use some clarification. "He thought maybe that my life was all butterflies now that I was a rider. But I mentioned it's not always so simple, you have to pay debts sometimes." She winces at her own choice of words. "Which is true, I owe Greenfields for being here. Maybe not for the rest of my entire life, but for a long time. I know that, it's fine. I would do it again." Moving along again, "He wanted to know who I owed. I didn't offer him an explanation really. I figured he can hunt for the answers on his own damn time if he wants to know. I didn't realize he was still like us." As in, doing things on the side. Into that kind of business. "The Rusty Nail. Is that euphemism?" Her smile is sly then. "I hear ya," Jo's in agreement about having 'someone else', waiting for that shoe to fall. "Takin' it one day at a time. This E'sren knows about ya before ya came to Greenfields?" There's a huff of quiet laughter for her relationship with Z'ian, leaning back as she cradles her mug. Not denying, "Maybe," she considers on the differences between her and wingleader. "How much similar, I'm still learnin'. I have blood on my hands-" and she uncurls her fingers from the mug to briefly present her palms out to her "-but does he? If he learns that I actually like what I do, the business I deal with, I wonder if he'll look at me differently. People got limits. Wonder what his is." Hearing that it's him that Sabs was talking to Aishani about, there's open laughter for it and a sly counter of, "Or is it that all sorts like to mingle with me?" Talk of the past has the convict rider nursing her drink as she regards the other and says, "Didn' have a pretty upbringin', either. Crom's a rough place, much like Keogh." She falls silence to listen on her talk with I'zech, inclining her head to debts owed. "I broke out of the mines," she states on her end, dark gaze watching a pair of men pass their table. "Got help with a guard there. Was fugitive for a good while before Greenfields took me in. I'd be locked back up and dead if they hadn'." On the bronzerider, then, "Ya did good," she finally gives Sabella on how she handled the situation with him. "If he's hungry enough, he'll hunt, and if he's starvin', that hunt'll lead him straight to my ledge. I'll deal with him then. He ain' the type to roll on us, so, we won' have to worry about the Weyr at large findin' out." That last is a lighter topic, her smile bigger and she leans conspiratorially towards her as she answers back on the bar's name, "Whaddya think?" Chuckling, "Take E'sren one day. Betcha both could use a good bar brawl, right? Get those reflexes stoked. Call it foreplay." Naturally, for her. "E'sren doesn't really know much about before the Weyr, just some things about me working for the Lady at Greenfields. Like that it was boring." Sabella watches the bluerider closely, that faint amusement still very much in evidence across her face. "He doesn't seem like a stupid kind of man. Do you really think that he believes you're doing anything against your will? I'd imagine he probably does know you do it because you enjoy it in some way. Even if he's not completely clear on the matter." The cradled mug of ale is brought to her lips again and she looks over it at Jo. "Perhaps. Maybe we should name you the Weyrleader and get it over with." It's a gentle tease that comes on the heels of another long sip of her ale. "I just don't want him thinking that I need his help. That was the kind of impression I got. You know how men can be when they think they need to go rescuing a girl. It gets them all excited." At the idea of bringing E'sren to a bar that's owned by I'zech she laughs abruptly, tipping her head back to the ceiling. "I don't think he's the sort of man to enjoy a bar brawl. He'd probably be kind of horrified and want to sweep me out of there. But yes, I would assume that it is a euphemism." Pause. "For his nail. Perhaps he should wash it?" "Was it really borin'? Doncha enjoy hair and all that stylin'?" Jo teases with a flash of teeth. "What does Ghislaith think? About E'sren? About yer life before all this?" Surely the dragon has formed opinions? Sabella's opinion on the wingleader has her regarding the other for a long moment before she turns her head and takes a long drink from her mug. "So he's down for a really bad, twisted girl, then," she surmises with a brief raise of her mug. "I guess....so. Guess it's just nerves on my end. It's weird. Don' get that way with anybody else." And then, Weyrleader. With a bark of laughter, "Can ya imagine? Anyone that cause me grief, they're fightin' me in the ring down in Greenfields. If Taikrin's makin' all these bronzeriders cry, imagine what I would do!" That deserves a bit more laughing before she adds, "Yeah. Taikrin can have it. I prefer hangin' out in the cracks until all the dust settles." There's a snort on the idea of men rescuing a girl, taking a drink and nodding once. "Oh yeah. Z'ian gets that way, too. Wants to protect me. Got pissed I stood up with Shani yer Hatchin' party, even. Since S'varis, though, he's calmed down on all that. Once he saw I could handle things, I think. Maybe E'sren needs to see the same, too?" She's amused at hearing how E'sren would view such an outing, but the last on the bar name has her throwing her head back and laughing loud enough to draw a look or two from those nearby. "Shit yeah! I never did ask him why he named it that, but I betcher right. Surprised he didn' name it somethin' like, 'The Burnin' Eyes' or, 'The Hungry Hands' or somethin'." "I do like hair. But she had terrible hair and her ladies in waiting were all... dull. You couldn't pay me all the marks in the world to take that job back. I don't know how I ever let anyone talk me into it to begin with." Sabella snorts, her lips pulled into an amused smirk. "Men, they have a way of getting a girl all twisted around. But he loves having a girl different from the types of bronzeriders usually pick up. How many lower caverns girls do you think go to comfort him after a flight?" She wonders allowed, the humor evident across her face. Laughter begins next as talk of Jo being the Weyrleader picks up, taking a deep breath as she calms herself. "Since S'varis? Were you there when he met with him?" She knows parts of some things but not all of them. "I'm not exactly brawling type. I'm more the hit and run type. I think he probably would need to rescue me. I'm not sure that would work out well." When the next round of laughter rolls through, she glances around and smirks. "The Hungry Hands sounds right for him too. He's a very handsy sort of man, I don't think he quite understands what personal boundaries are." Patting her own wild mane, "Better her than me," Jo quips on hair. Then, speaking of jobs, "Ya think about any of the wings ya might get tapped into? That ya wanna get tapped into?" She even mirrors that smirk, though there's a cocky, brazen tilt to it as she traces a finger around the rim of her mug. "Naw, I ain' twisted around," she's quick to say, all bluster and non-chalance. "But, don' matter what lower caverns girls go to him after a flight. They ain' me. Not that I keep him from doin' what he wants." Head angling slightly now as she returns the regard and humor, "Flight's don' worry ya none?" She joins Sabella in the laughter involving her as Weyrleader - it is a laughable matter - before she answers on S'varis with, "Yeah, he took me along for added muscle. I pulled my weight, backed up Z'ian's words. Fanatic dude, though. All the shit he was tryin' to do, just to be Weyrleader...." She shakes her head at it before she finishes her drink. She turns to the topic of fighting, lips quirking as she asks despite it, "So, ya'd never want to get in the ring back in Greenfields? Just a little? Zuman lays out real good payment for bein' the only one standin'." As if that would entice. And then I'zech and his hands. She runs a hand through her hair as she looks around them and remarks, "I'll suggest he renames his bar and see what he says. He'll likely curse me out for it. Ya should show me that sketch of him. Didn' know ya can sketch, too. I've only seen K'zin's from yer class." "I have, but I don't know where I'd really fit in. Or if it would matter at all. If I'm working for the weyr in name only then it doesn't seem to be important just where I am, does it?" Sabella puts back to Jo, taking a longer swallow from her mug of ale. The mention of flights has the greenrider's shoulders hunching, tension clearly in place. "I don't give them a lot of thought. I just figure that they're going to happen whether I like it or not. I'm going to have to deal with them then." Which is either extreme realism or total denial. "He did? Honestly, he sounds like the perfect man for you. Accepting your past, going along with you to beat up fanatics, letting you hide in the cracks. Where can a girl find another one of those?" She teases, smirking tugging on the corners of her mouth. "Oh, absolutely not. I don't really hit people, like I said. Punch and run. More like kick and run. More like get the fuck out of there before anyone gets close enough to touch you. I'd rather bet on other people." She laughs at the concept of how mad the bronzerider may or may not be. "I don't have that one anymore, I gave it to him. But I have others, you know. More recently." At her comment she tips her head. "I learned how to sketch when I was in Crom. There was a man that used to do it for the marks, I learned off of him. For my own interest. Sometimes for marks too. And K'zin? Yeah. Naked women." Amusement. Jo considers that first question for a brief moment before she clicks her tongue against her teeth and draws up to rest her linked fingers behind her head as she stretches back. "Depends," she says. "Some wings are too inclusive. Get up in yer business too much. There's some that leave ya well alone. Sometimes that determines how much ya gotta watch yer shoulder." The bluerider's highly amused by Sabella's answer on flights, by the look on her face looking like she's definitely thinking it's denial more than anythin' else - but no, this time she does not tease further there. The knowing look on her face should say enough. There's a quiet chuckle on account of Z'ian, her shoulders doing a little shrug as she answers back, "Not so much crack-hidin' anymore. I've been around more. Used to spend most of my time at Greenfields but since, been not ghostin' like I used to. I mean, he's a good guy. Tac likes him. We just...fit. Who knows," she adds wryly with a drop of her chin. "E'sren sounds pretty solid." She can't help but laugh when Sabella describes how she doesn't like to fight, dropping one arm briefly to try a nudge of her fist to her shoulder. "Next time I'm in the ring and ya can Between, bet on me," she encourages. "And, show me the recent ones sometime," she adds on I'zech sketches. "Gives me somethin' to tease him on, when I see him. Saw K'zin's, too. Improved. He should add naked men." "Avalanche, Snowdrift?" She ventures on the wings that are more nosy than others. "Glacier?" For one that's not entirely up in a person's business. That Jo doesn't push any further on the flight issue has the greenrider loosening again, the tension easing out of her shoulders. She appreciates not having to talk about it anymore, that much is obvious. Even the topic of men is allowed to drift away now, laughing when Jo insists that she bets on her. "I believe that I could win some marks on you. You're the scrappy sort that a person would think they could pummel. But not really." Further mention of K'zin's sketches has her smiling crookedly. "That kid. I don't think he likes men all that much. I could show you some of the newer ones, sure. Maybe I'll even do a couple of you when you're not looking." Jo nods when Sabella lists some of the wings in the right categories. "Right," she vocalizes, grinning. "Kait seems to like Equinox well enough, so maybe that wing doesn' get involved in their lives much, either. I know ya don' have much longer now. Get that Betweenin' in, and ya'll even be ripe for us." She doesn't have to specify who the us is, dropping her arms now and trying to drain any last remnants in her mug. Fighting and betting gets that brazen wink as she nudges her mug away, looking like she won't be asking for another round just yet as she says, "That gets'em every time, darlin'. Those that don' no, they get in the ring and think they can take me in a minute. Ya'll win, believe that." As for K'zin, the bluerider's lips tug a corner shortly as she says, "Have ya seen his newer sketches? Vast improvement. The tits look better. Ya have a colorful class, Sabs." Dark eyes go towards what she can see of the entrance before she addresses the last with a wry "Not lookin', huh? And then I'll have no choice but to steal into yer weyr to look for them, with Tac drivin' that green of yers up the ledge." She snickers at that before reaching into her jacket and pulling out another mark piece for the table as she adds, "Hey, yer hungry? We could head back and grab somethin' before I head out into the night." Business. "Ya can tell me more about yer classes while yer at it," and about her class, information meant for filing away. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 21 May 2013 03:44:13 GMT.
<
Love love love when Jo and Sabella get a chance to talk at length. They delve into Greensfield stuff, but it's really more about how they think and feel about folks that's just really great to read. I think Sabella needs someone like Jo in her life, definitely.
And Jo does attract all kinds. XD
Leave A Comment