It's late, and it seems to be normal that only the shadows and wraiths come out at night at the High Reaches. It must be the truth since the kitchen's bare save for one: someone wrapped in black leather, dark hair and the face of pure trouble. One probably would have thought her a thief with the way she was pilfering the remaining food from the living caverns if not for the shoulderknot on her jacket, depicting her in actually belonging at the Weyr on a dragon. With her plate filled, she turned to take up haunting a shadowy nook at a table, dropping into a chair and pulling free a hidden bottle from beneath her jacket. Then, once all is placed on the table before her, she gets down to eating.
Bones is the antithesis of stealth as he enters the kitchens, each heavy step of his thick leather boots clunking loudly to the floor below. As if the sound of him alone isn't enough, he stretches his long, thick arms high above his head in a yawning stretch, making a spectacle of his size. "Mmmrph..." comes the first sound from his chest, a quiet grumble as he looks for something to eat. He takes no notice of the other guest in the room at first, until there's a sudden pause in his stride, and an audible sniff of the air. "Oh, hey." He speaks before turning towards Jo, and then visibly squints trying to make her out from her darkened corner. "Getting a late night snack, eh dude?"
The heavy steps get Jo's attention easy, but it's not enough to get her to look away from her food. The sound from him does, dark eyes shooting toward the thick arms and the myriad of tattoos on them first. Since he doesn't take first notice of her, she stays inconspicuous in the corner. Until he speaks to her, that is. She slows down her eating at his question, perhaps trying to decide if she was going to answer it. Or perhaps, she was in shock that she was being addressed at all. She studies him, slowly, her piercing gaze going from head to toe, then back before she reaches for the bottle as she swallows her food. "Somethin' like that," her hazy voice coming from that shadows. She hesitates before adding, "I tend to eat late." Pause. "I don't think I've seen you around." Right. She should talk.
Another yawn leaves the big man, this time without the exaggerated stretching and instead with a scratch to his belly. "Oh, you're a chick. My mistake, couldn't tell with you hidin' in the corner there, hehe." He does exactly as she had moments earlier, though with less care. Food is piled in one central hill in the center of a plate, a feast of randomly chosen edibles. "Don't think you have eh? You don't think you'd recognize me the second time? Shit, I must be slippin then, gotta somehow be even more memorable. Maybe I should just walk around shirtless all the time in the snow? Ha!" When he's done creating himself a terrible feast, he grabs a wooden cooking spoon to eat it with, and makes his way towards the mysterious stranger. "I'm Bones, I'm new."
A brow lifts. A chick? "Haven't been called that since the days I was out taking what didn't belong to me, baby," Jo notes, her study of the man still there as she resumes eating. She watches him pile his plate with just the barest flicker of amusement at his words, remarking to them, "Oh, I think I would have remembered the hair, the marks on your skin, the face. Shirtless, huh?" She makes a show of actually considering that before she snorts softly before saying, "Ya'll freezer yer butt off. Do it. I might even crack a smile for ya," which suggests that, usually, she doesn't. She lifts her bottle briefly in his direction before she takes a drink, and she actually says nothing to him joining her. When he introduces himself, she drops the bottle down on the table and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before nodding sharply to him. "Yeah. If yer bold enough to be sittin' here with me, I figured." Pause. "Jo. Tacuseth's."
The table is shaken by the impact of him dropping down heavily into his seat, his full size going from standing to sitting in an instant. "Bold enough?" He asks the question with an oversized spoonful of food, shoveling into his mouth and taking a few chews before continuing down that line of conversation. "Hrm, so you some kinda badass bitch or somethin? Gonna shank me for crowdin' you?" He grins big, thankfully not too much visible food stuck between his big white teeth.
When the table shook, Jo lifts her hands and eyes her food. Bold. Her head lingers down towards that table, but her gaze flits up to his face. A myriad of emotions flit through her face as well, going from annoyance to amusement to dangerous curiosity before she leans forward and continues on her food with calculated ease. His wording in the question has her quipping right back, "'Bout as badass as -you-, I reckon. And then some." The next actually gets a ghost of a lopsided smile, her head tilting just a fraction to the side as she pauses on her food before she answers that one with a blithe, "It's not the night for shankin'. I usually reserve that on special occasions." It's about as much as a tease from her. Still, the look on her face suggests more, and so she adds, as an afterthought: "Just. People don't sit with me. Not usually. Think I'm crazy or somethin', but then, most of us problem-types are treated like that, a time or two. They're not all altogether wrong." She leans forth and nudges her bottle of liquor towards the man before she says, "Take some. You've earned yerself some'o me sharin'."
An eyebrow is raised at Jo's words, for the first time his eyes leaving her face to give the rest of her a once over. He's obvious in his studying of her, but there's no uncomfortable silence thanks to his noisy chewing. But then again, the squishing and crunching might be more uncomfortable than the quiet would have been. "What makes you think I'm a badass?" His big smile returns. "I'm just a puppy dog that likes makin' new buds!" He reaches for the bottle with the big mitt that isn't currently wrapped around a spoon, and lifts it to his nose to take a sniff. It's slid back across to her on the table. "Don't touch the stuff no more, no disrespect intended."
Jo's not put off by his study - not when she's been so obvious with her own. Her food is half-gone and her silence is felt - as if she was welcoming his study of her. Then, when Bones questions, there's the quick shrug and a "If yer a puppy, then I'm the Lady Holder of Sweetness and Light." She tears into a meatroll, her eyes never leaving his face, and she waits until her mouth is empty until she says more. "Dunno if ya are, but yer certainly somethin'. I doubt yer a harper, or one of them healers." Beat. "Are ya?" and her look turns pointed. But then, there was something else she was interested in, and so the question comes quick behind the last one: "So how -has- the Weyr been treatin' ya? Whatcha do around here?" His rejection of the bottle doesn't ruffle the bluerider at all as she takes it up and downs a good gulp of the brew. She's intrigued; it's apparent. "None taken. A clean man. Haven't run into those in a good while."
Barnabas laughs open and loud at her joke, giving a slap to the table that shook the plates again. He's easily amused. "Nah, I aint a harper or a healer." Another shoveling motion into the hillock of chow, and a heaping spoonful is brought to his maw, but he pauses before chowing down. "Weyr's about the same as any place. Folk keep their distance mostly, but hey, can you blame 'em? Hehe, mostly I just kick back with one of the weyrwoman's place. Azaylia, you know her? Sweet as a sugar cube, cute as a button."
The slap to the table gets briefly wry shake of Jo's head, and once the laughter dies down, "Yer 'bout as bad as one of my brothers. He was a towerin' sonnuva one, too." Her silence on his next, about the Weyr's folks keeping their distance, seems to be one of mutual understanding - especially considering her own current lot. When he drops name, the bluerider nods once and answers, "Seen her 'round. Ain't never really talked to her. You stay with her? As in....'stay'?"
The big man finishes his mouthful of food before answering her this time. Perhaps he had found some manners? More likely he just wasn't as hungry as before, and is more willing to pause his consumption to speak a few words here and there. "Well I don't know your brother, but he sounds like a damn good guy!" Bones is already taking another spoonful of food when she subtlety inquires about his living arrangements, and he cocks a confused eyebrow high on his thick brow. He isn't picking up on the hidden question. "You just said the same word twice there."
A hidden smile is given on the account of the brother in question - the realest one seen all night. "A guard, through and through," is all Jo says about the man, a rare moment of normalcy. For her. When Bones doesn't pick of up the meaning of her question, the bluerider just leans back against her chair and stares at him. The pause is heavy as she regards him guardedly, as if she were trying to figure out if he was pulling her leg or was truly being honestly dense before she lifts both her shoulders briefly and lifts both hands up. "Well shit, I was tryin' my hand at being all polite about it," she quips, seeming to go for the latter. "I meant if yer screwin' her or not."
A heavy nod is given to acknowledge Jo's words of her brother, giving a tight-lipped smile back at the bluerider as he chews his food. The smile lasts untill his unflappability is tested by Jo's second version of her question. "Hmmpht?!" The sound of questioning and choking all at once. He pounds at his chest with a balled fist, trying to dislodge some food from his windpipe and get it going down the proper channels. Once all is safe, he gives a combination laugh and cough. "Hahaha! What're you kidding? A weyrwoman, with me? Shit, I'm flattered you'd even think I had a shot!" He finally puts his spoon down, finished with his meal for the moment. "Nah, she's just too nice to kick me out. Plus, she needs me. She don't know it but she does."
Bones choking because of words, is amusing. Jo's faint little smile is twisted, if not downright disturbing. His words, once they come through, earns a wry, "I've heard of stranger things, baby." But she got it, and what brings just a pinch of light to her eyes is the last bit - like he had suddenly pulled out a pouch and had spread a line of little rubies right before her eyes. She leans forward, seeming to be done with her food as she rests her elbows on the table. "She needs you," she echoes that one, finding it of interest. "And why's that? Yer her guard or somethin'? It has somethin' to do with that rider killin' the last Weyrlady?"
Bones sits up taller for moment, giving a pat of his stomach in satisfaction of a meal completed. Afterwards his palms are both put the back of his head, showing off the inkwork on the inside of his arms that otherwise goes mostly unseen. "Well the guards in this place do suck. But nah, I ain't thinkin she's gonna get taken out. She just needs a distraction from all that responsibility and depression being dumped on her lap, y'know?" His head tuns to look at the entrance to the kitchens, giving a smirk to nothing in particular. "Come to think of it, just about everybody here needs a dose of me. Shit's too serious around here. Too heavy. Too dark." The smirk stays as he turns back to face her. "Or maybe I'm an asshole who's not lettin' anybody mourn proper." He gives a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Anyway, all we done here is talk about me. What about you eh? What's your deal?"
The rider observes the inkwork while Bones speaks, as if she were committing each mark to memory. Jo seems to be taking in everything he says, the silence on her side heavy. Something he says gets a "So yer gonna be the resident Mr.Happy 'round here, uhh?" from her. Then she pauses and adds more soberly, "Lots happened, lately. Ain't always doom'n'gloom 'round here. Things'll settle and folks'll be back to themselves. How life works and all." Beat. "Think I might like the asshole part o'ya," she notes, amused. "Maybe yer an asshole and kindhearted, all rolled up into one." She finally takes her gaze from him to her plate when he turns the tables on her - especially since she's managed to say as little as possible in regards to herself so far. Dark eyes lift back to him and there's just the barest of a smirk as she goes to fold her arms across her chest. "One more question," she answers on the last, letting her amusement bleed through before she juts her chin sharply towards his large frame. "And then ya can ask whatever ya want of me." Pause. "What's up with all the ink?"
Leaning back a little more thoroughly in his seat, it seems like Bones is laying in an invisible hammock just behind him as she speaks. She sums up her thoughts on the Weyr and he just nods; sums up her thoughts on him and just grins. Finally she proposes the deal, an exchange of questions like some odd game of truth or dare, and he can only give a brief laugh. "That's it, the ink? You were makin' it sound like such a big deal. I thought you were gonna ask me about my worst fears or... how big my dick is or somethin', Ha!" He unwraps his hands from the back of his head and slouches forward suddenly, just letting the pale limbs drape across the table. "Started real young, when I got my first fishin' job. It's one of the shitty ones that I cover up with the cuffs. Just been addin' on to em ever since. Got some on different boats. Some in prison mines." He turns his arms from palms up to palms down, letting her get a view on the opposite side. "Kinda started running out of room. Newest ones are actually on my chest." He tugs up the hem of his sleeveless shirt as high as he can, exposing a chiseled midsection made less attractive with scars and trail of thin dark hair down it's middle. At the top, across pecs, are some newer and cleaner tattoos with a bit more color. Still not high quality. "Truth is actually pretty boring, hehe."
Good thing Jo wasn't drinking at the time, for Bones' initial words would have her spitting it all back out. Instead, she's quick to cover any discomfort with a crass, "Oh yeah? I thought we were already leadin' up the question about yer dick?" She then snorts her own laughter, and then goes quiet, and the only flinch of interest of note from her is when he mentions the mines. She lets her piercing gaze land on every mark he shows her and lingers on the ones on his chest. Or maybe it's really his chest. She has a good poker face, in any case. Or at least she thinks so. "Don't seem all that boring to me," she finally breaks her silence again, unfurling and getting to her feet. She picks up her plate and heads to the sinks, saying over her shoulder, "M'ron has one on his back. A friend of mine." Turning to face him again, her thumbs hooking into the tops of her pants, she looks to be considering something for a brief moment before she approaches the table and collect up her bottle with one hand. "Tac says some business has come up," she suddenly divulges, regarding the large man as unruly hair fall forward and covers one eye. "I gotta go. Looks like I owe ya one." It's abrupt, but then he was probably getting used to that by now, with dragonriders. Of course, what 'business' could possibly be happening at that time of night...
Catches the reaction in her face at the mention of his nethers, and lets his shirt drop just as she ups the ante. "That a fact? Cmon girl, you already know I don't do subtle well." He grins, taking one last spoonful of food into his mouth before grabbing his plate and standing up with the bluerider. Both hands are used for his plate, which means the wooden spoon is just left to hang from his mouth. Judging from the way it wriggles around, he's idly chewing it as he heads to the sinks himself. If she was leaving, there wasn't much reason to hang around by himself. "Hey, don't let me keep you from your uhh... business? Hehehe. I'll catch you later, Jo."
Yeah, she knew. Still, "Let me at least pretend I'm clever and classy for tonite," Jo meets that ante, tossing a challenging look Bones' way. "Can't have ya readin' me full when our hands just shook." Her hands are free save for her bottle, and she steps away before he speaks and nods her clipped farewell. Jacket gets readjusted before she's gone, his name lingering in her wake as she makes her exit. "Bones."
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