Logs:No Surprise Spoilt
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| RL Date: 21 August, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Attempts at bribery fail, but there are gifts to be had. |
| Where: Homestead Built For Two Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: 25D 7M 38T I10, summer night |
| OOC Notes: "It isn't at all like you." |
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| It's late evening, well after dinner. Of course, R'hin's well known for keeping late hours, and though Leiventh's perched up on the rim of the bowl with a handful of other dragons, it doesn't mean the weyr isn't occupied. A faint glimmering of light under the door to R'hin's half of the weyr suggests that someone's home, anyway. Akluseth's typical greeting is a mellow one tonight, the wash of windswept waves accompanying his usual cry of « Incoming. » Even as his claws scrape the ledge, just long enough for his rider to depart before launching himself back into the sky. Satchel clinking as Edyis adjusts it carefully over her shoulder that door receives a light knock. Leiventh, typically, is nonresponsive, other than the slight flicker of cold, wintry winds that acknowledges that he hears the young brown. There's no immediate response to the knock, though there is some noises come from within. Edyis eyes the door knob then, fingertips drumming imprecisely against her leathers. She doesn't reach for the hairpin lockpick, instead, adjusting the bag at her shoulder again, and turning to lean against the wall next to the door to wait. Akluseth's shadow floats over the ledge, but he doesn't land again wheeling out further into the bowl. It's probably a good thing it's not cold out there, since the door doesn't open, and neither does the occupant emerge. Perhaps he simply didn't hear the knock. It's probably about when the weyrling's patience is nearing the end that the door opens abruptly, surprise painted on Bristia's expression. Her face is flushed, the buttons of the shirt she's burrowed not quite done all the way up, though the ends are long enough to cover what she is, or might not be wearing underneath. "Edyis," the greenrider intones, loudly enough, it would seem, to warn the bronzerider within, pulling the door wider. "He's all yours," with an easy grin, the greenrider makes her way unhurriedly across the corridor to her own weyr, the door shutting behind her. Within, R'hin has pants on -- which is something -- though he hasn't bothered to clean up the various clothing items strewn around the weyr. Instead, he's doing something much more important -- heading for the liquor cabinet. It's a Cheshire grin that spreads over Edyis's lips at the greenriders... state. "I can always come back another day you know." Not that she's budged much from her spot near the doorway, "I brought a few things you might like." She adds, waiting it seems, for permission to enter fully. The clink of glasses suggests an acceptance of her presence, all the same. "You're here now," R'hin says, easily, though there's a bit of a grimace of annoyance as he spills some of the liquor over the edge of one of the glass. "Besides, presents, I guess, can only mean one thing." The wave of his hand invites her in from the doorway. Edyis arches a brow, though it's possible he doesn't see it as she pads in settling the satchel on the couch and freeing the decanter of dark brown liquid and what little remains of a 75 turn old whiskey bottle. "Oh? And what meaning could they have?" Completely unbothered by the clothes in the room, she tosses an item that had found its way on the couch out of the way to claim a seat. Watching the Bronzerider with a smirk. "Bribery," R'hin says in that patiently amused tone of his, as if that should be obvious. He reaches for the glasses, then pauses when he sees what she's brought. Interestingly, he abandons his choice in favor of hers, picking up a second set of glasses and walking them over, setting them beside the decanter. For once, he doesn't take the lead in pouring, instead taking the other side of the couch, throwing an arm over the side, and watching Edyis with equal interest, though less of a smirk than a twitch of lips. The decanter, a dark ale of some sort, is left aside for now, she pours a few fingers from the whiskey bottle into each class, leaving him to choose which to claim for himself. When he does she claims her own, sipping some before speaking. "Of a kind I suppose." She answers on bribery. "Hard to figure an appropriate bribe for you, though, eventually I'm going to have to get creative." In the meantime best with the tried and true methods. Liquor. After another moment of regard, the bronzerider leans forward to claim the glass nearest to him, letting it rest on his knee a moment rather than immediately imbibing. "Hrmph," comes R'hin's snorted answer in response, "It seems like you've got me just about figured out on that score," with a nod towards the objects on the table. Only then does he lift the glass to his lips, not taking any time to savor it as he normally does -- swallowing it all in one hit and quickly setting the glass back down, his hand casually brushing through his hair afterwards. Perhaps he's feeling in a generous mood; enough to not overtly draw things out, anyway: "What do you want?" "Your opinion on the wings." She states simply if she's taken aback by his treatment of the liquor or his the blatant question, it certainly doesn't show in her expression. "Who to avoid if I want to retain any semblance of independence." The last devoid of any particular inflection. She shifts, crossing her legs. R'hin brows go upwards, and there's a slight twitch to his hands, before he presses hands to his knees and stands. "You realize, of course," with a small chuckle, "That it's all been decided all ready, and you are fighting a fate that has already been prescribed?" He's walking to his closet, leaning in for a moment, pulling out a fresh shirt and pulling it on. Still, after a moment, there's an answer: "Boreal. Snowdrift. Glacier." That Savannah meets her criteria is not on the list is a glaring, deliberate omission. "Who said I was fighting anything." Is her easy reply, her dark eyes trained on him as he moves. "I just was curious as to your thoughts." Draining her glass and setting it aside, "Old habits take a while to die off completely I guess." She answers honestly enough. The omission it seems, was expected. "You mean you aren't made anew on the fires of Weyrlinghood and Quinlys' machinations?" The question seems rhetorical, as R'hin walks back over, buttoning up one of the middle buttons, fumbling with other, and seemingly giving up. He waves towards the bottle as he retakes his seat, as if encouraging her to refill. "Old habits," he echoes her tone precisely, with an amused twist of lips. "I guess that explains why you're here. Though not," he adds, with a sidelong look, "Why you didn't break in." Edyis snorts at the rhetorical question, her eyes rolling slightly before she catches herself and schools her expression into something more neutral. She refills his glass but not her own, snorting at the last. "It isn't respectful barging in on people at all hours, and it's not freezing in the middle of winter. It could wait." She pauses with a scrunch of her nose, "Besides, having been barged in upon, I figured you'd appreciate a knock. Or was I wrong in that assessment." R'hin's oddly stern, "It isn't at all like you," seems like an accusation. He ignores the glass, perhaps because she only refilled his, or just because he's focused on her for the moment, pale eyes intent. Edyis lifts a brow at his stern expression, her lips curling in faint amusement, or at least a decent imitation of it. "And you are the expert in me and my habits and behaviors?" The bronzerider spreads his hands, as if to imply, of course, chuckling under his breath. Edyis refills her glass then, shaking her head. "I'm not all that difficult to figure out, and never have been. Oh, wise and all knowing one." It's only faintly sarcastic. She takes a long pull from her glass with a shrug, "So if the decision is already made, I don't suppose you would be willing to reveal anything would you." The topic change an intentional one. R'hin manages to act affronted that she even asks. "I am many things, but a surprise-spoiler, I am not." Coincidentally, perhaps, now that she's drinking from her glass he leans forward to collect his, resting the glass momentarily on the arm of the couch rather than immediately drinking. "You've got, what, a seven more of anxious second-guessing ahead of you. Hear-hear!" He lifts his glass now, draining a good half of the contents. "And to think, I wasted the last of an excellent bottle of whiskey." She sighs with dramatic flair. "And what do I have to show for it?" She still meets that toast, though, draining her glass completely before refilling it. "Ought to have known better," R'hin agrees, unsympathetically. "The young change, but the old endure." He drains his glass when she does, by no coincidence, and thus that slight unsteadiness of hand might well be missed, before he sets the glass down firmly on the table. He pushes to his feet, and heads over to a trunk, bending over to rummage around it for a time, before he extracts something wrapped in a loose bit of a cloth. "I hadn't had a chance to wrap it yet, but I don't think that matters." He sets it down on the arm of the couch nearest her, standing, watching. Inside is a blade -- it's not stamped, but a thorough inspection of the work and the balance suggests it's high quality all the same -- sharp and aimed to cut, no mere beltknife. It's relatively plain, except for the familiarly-colored orange-brown stone set in the hilt. Whatever quip she had prepared is lost, and if she notices the unsteadiness, she doesn't comment, though her brows do furrow faintly. She watches him then, as he is rummaging. The bit of cloth is eyed suspiciously, the glass set aside as she reaches for it, pulling the item into her lap before very carefully unfolding the cloth around it. She is silent, studying the thing for several long moments before delicately picking it up. Her expression takes on shades of something difficult to define as her thumb brushes the stone, before those eyes shift up to study the bronzerider watching her. "It's beautiful." "And practical," he near-corrects her. "Every rider needs a good blade; all the better if it looks plain enough to not be worth stealing." R'hin rubs at the stubble at his chain, regretting aloud, "I hadn't had a chance to have a sheathe made up, but, maybe it's for the best. I'll give you a name, and you can get exactly what you want, hm?" He smiles now, as if pleased -- with her reaction, or the arrangement, or both. She is listening, rewrapping the piece carefully, and as he's smiling she's on her feet, and he's in for a rather enthusiastic hug if he doesn't manage to dodge it first. "It's perfect." She states simply, grinning widely. He doesn't dodge, and in fact after a moment, an arm pulls her in closer. "Ok, ok," R'hin finally says, letting his arm drop. "Don't oversell it. It'll mean any other gift after this will be inferior." He glances towards the table, and surprisingly, says, "You can take the whiskey with you." It sounds like a dismissal, but a dismissal with an oddly generous present, given he usually claims any alcohol she brings near his weyr. Edyis laughs, then stepping away when his arm drops. "Only if you promise to come by and have a drink now and then." She states, which must be a point she expects him to accept since the bottle is restoppered and tucked back into the satchel, along with the gift that is treated with equal care. "Have a good night R'hin." Making her way back out the door toward the ledge where Akluseth is already waiting. The gesture R'hin makes towards her, and the bottle, in general, appears to be acceptance of her conditions, if a wordless one at that. "And you," he shadows her as far as the door, noting Akluseth's presence there, before he retreats back inside and shuts the door behind him. |
Comments
Jolie (07:40, 22 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
R'hin gives gifts like a badass. I approve.
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