Logs:Pretty Ladies
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| RL Date: 8 June, 2014 |
| Who: Jadzia, K'zin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two runner enthusiasts cross paths and end up getting a drink in what is most likely not a date. |
| Where: Stables and Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions, Badrey/Mentions, G'laer/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. Altcestuous talk. |
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| Stables, High Reaches Weyr Taking advantage of a natural overhang in the side of the mountain for its roof, this building boasts sturdy stone construction braced by beams of tough-as-nails skybroom. Just inside a pair of broad doors, the ceiling rises a full two stories high for the full length and half the width of the building. Beneath the overhang, wide windows admit light and more fresh air, while opposite is the second-story hayloft. The stables' main focus, however, is the double rows of stalls that line the walls below: one large stall serving as tack room, the rest housing a remarkable variety of beasts.
There's nothing fancy about the way Jadzia is dressed, but she's also not just getting back from a ride or anything fun like that. All she seems to be doing right now is leaning against the door of a stall, arms crossed in her somewhat over-sized jacket, while the runner behind the door tries to wiggle a lip into one of her pockets. She's not paying attention to the poor, starving, neglected runner that's wasting away without whatever's in her pocket, though. Jadzia is watching K'zin as he leads his mare down the aisle. "Looks like you gave that pretty lady a good, long ride." If it sounds a little suggestive, that's probably because it kind of is. "A man can't want for more when he has that," K'zin answers the blonde wryly as he leads the runner past her and into the adjacent empty stall. He steps out of it only long enough to set the saddle down and snag a brush from a nearby pail of tools and such. "Haven't seen you around before, have I?" He asks as he moves past her and back to his runner's side. Jadzia's arms unfold to pick out whatever's in her pocket. She offers it to the runner before she's shifting over to look inside the adjacent stall while K'zin is taking care of the mare. "Probably not." For a moment that seems like all she might say. But then she adds, "I mean, you'd remember if you'd seen me around before, pretty sure." "There are a lot of faces in the Weyr," K'zin starts as he runs the brush over the runner's side, "But you've a pretty one. I might remember if I had. But I've been away awhile, so things here are a little -- fuzzy." He decides is the right term. The brush moves in even, efficient strokes, obviously an old hand at this sort of thing. "I'm K'zin." "Well, in that case, I might have forgiven you. But I'm not from around here, so you're safe anyway." Jadzia moves to lean against the frame of the stall's door. It's a better vantage point from here. "K'zin," she repeats experimentally before observing, "Don't see that many riders down here when I'm visiting." "Where are you from...?" He leaves the gap for her to provide her name, his brown eyes flicking briefly away from the beast and toward the woman. "There are some that enjoy runners. Most find it too much of a hassle to wash enough that the runners will consent to bear them for a ride worth having. And most feel once you've a dragon, what's the use of a runner?" K'zin obviously doesn't feel this way. He's here, after all. "Jadzia," is her name. "Crom," is where she's from. "They can be desensitized if you take the time. I think some of you lot get lazy. With training, I mean. You get all used to your dragons doing things just cause you tell them to, then get impatient when you can't do the same with a runner. Guess it's a good thing most of you don't bother." She's probably talking about them in general, not the ones like him who do bother. "My dragon never does what I tell him to." K'zin's grin is lop-sided. "And he doesn't take well to me trying to train him." He pauses in his stroke to push his free hand through his short locks. "I help out with those they're trying to train up that way," to not mind as much. "When I can." He shifts a little further along the beast. "If you're going to stand here, you might as well make yourself useful. There's an extra brush," he nods toward the pail he got his from. "Don't all dragons fall all over themselves to do whatever their riders want? Isn't that the whole point of being a dragonrider?" Other than that whole Thread thing. But that's not really relevant right now. "I'm not some stable drudge you get to tell what to do," Jadzia points out to his suggestion. But she glances toward the extra brush before reaching down for it and moving around to the mare's other side with the quiet confidence of a person well-accustomed to being around runners. "No." It's said simply. "Some dragons are as strong-willed as you are." The rider says this with some measure of amusement evident in his tone. "So, Jadzia, if not a stable drudge at Crom, what do you do there?" Jadzia peers at K'zin with slightly narrowed eyes over the mare's neck, perhaps not sure whether that's supposed to be an insult or not. But she goes about brushing as she says, "Even if I were a stable druge at Crom, it wouldn't mean you'd get to boss me around here." So there. "I'm a trainer." And because fair's fair, "What do you do?" "I'm not trying to boss you around. You could've said no. I just thought you'd want to get your hands on my lady here after the way you looked at her." Had she looked at the runner any special way? K'zin might just be full of the stuff that comes out his lady's back end when she feels the need. "A trainer of runners?" He clarifies, a likely enough guess given the setting."Right now, shells if I know. My dragon was injured badly in Telgar almost a turn ago and we were loaned to Fort before that. We weren't supposed to be back here yet. Damned dragon gave himself wing strain coming and he's lucky that's all it was." There's lingering frustration in the man's baritone. It's more the runner than K'zin that Jadzia is talking to when she responds, holding her brush in one hand so she can trail the other slowly over the mare's back, "I always like to get my hands on the pretty ladies, don't I, beautiful?" Her hand ends over the mare's hindquarters, giving her a gentle pat. "Runners. Canines. Men. I train lots of things." She has a grin for K'zin, but she works on canceling out any good feelings with, "Your dragon doesn't sound very smart." The last makes K'zin grin broadly. "He needs to hear that more often." Apparently the rider, at least, is not offended. "No one can blame you for your tastes." In pretty ladies, presumably. "She's a good one. If you're looking for trade, she'd make a fine acquisition, if you ask me." Jadzia didn't, but that doesn't seem to matter. "That is, if the stablemaster is willing to part with her." The easy reception of her commentary on his lifemate makes Jadzia's grin a little brighter for K'zin. "I don't really get to make those decisions. But I'll let Badrey know you think so." She's not brushing anymore, instead doing a sort of reflexive inspection of the runner's legs, sensitivity and teeth while she asks curiously, "You seem kind of fond of her. Why draw attention?" "I'm fond of them all," is an easy reply to make. The tone tells it's true, too. "Everyone ought to have a chance to go wherever they'll be doing the most good, don't you think? I'm not sure, for runners, that's in a Weyr where too many don't appreciate them just because there are dragons." K'zin doesn't seem to mind having been left to complete the task of brushing himself, but it's a few more strokes before he asks, "Will you be at the Weyr long, Jadzia?" Jadzia's initial response to that idealism is a snort. She doesn't comment on it directly, though, just, "Suppose you're right." She ends up lingering near the mare's head, stroking it in a way that betrays her own fondness for the beasts. "Not unless Badrey gets it in his head again that some horny greenrider will find him appealing enough to screw if he hangs around the bar long enough." The roll of her eyes can practically be heard in her voice. She can disagree, that's fine. "He'd have better luck with horny blue or brownriders, or bronze if that's his taste. You have to work to get greenriders horny outside flights, the other kinds often end up that way when a flight is done. Easier pickings." That's probably his professional advice. Clearly, K'zin is no stranger to such things. But then he is very pretty, so he might not have trouble with the former. "For you too, if that's the kind of thing you like to do in your free time." "I'll be sure to let him know, thanks," says Jadzia. "I don't usually have trouble finding someone for that sort of fun, but I'll keep it in mind. Just in case." She shifts away from the mare to let her enjoy her grooming in peace, leaning against the wall instead to watch K'zin. "So what sort of rider are you? You said 'he', so not green. You seem too nice to be a bronzerider. Brown?" Those are the nice ones, right? "It helps for string-free encounters. Most people after a flight aren't looking for more." K'zin seems to count this as a perk, though his tone remains casual, as if he's just giving her the ins and outs of the game at the Weyr. "As it happens, not all bronzeriders are complete shits." The man's smile shows some warmth, though it doesn't seem to reach his perpetually haunted eyes. "His name is Rasavyth." Not that she asked. "I Impressed almost four turns ago." Not that she asked that either. "I'm not sure most people are looking for more." Or it could just be that Jadzia gravitates toward the sort of people who don't. "That may remain to be seen. You have, I don't know, whole minutes left to make an ass of yourself." To the mare, she adds, "You seem to have fared well enough in his company, anyway." To K'zin, "I wasn't doing this four turns ago, either. What did you do before you Impressed?" "It's true. I have done it in less time, to be sure." K'zin agrees with mock gravity; clearly he's taking this all very seriously. The matter of strings is left alone now. "She, at least, doesn't mind when I put my feet in my mouth, though I'm sure she'd prefer if I kept them in the stirrups." His smile is for the mare now, not the woman. "I was an apprentice Smith. Posted to the Weyr. I asked to stand, or was asked; it was sort of both at once. It started as a way to try to stay here. My Journeymen exams would've been in too short a time after. What about you? What were you doing four turns ago if not this?" He must guess that they're about of an age. "Mm," agrees Jadzia. "Keep your feet in your stirrups is usually a good idea." She doesn't even make some suggestive comment about riding bareback. Yet. "You can just do that? Ask?" Color her interested. "Why did you want to stay?" Now she's just being nosy, but there seems to be something about the man that invites it from her. All the same, she hesitates about her own 'four turns ago' before offering, "Nothing important." "Living in the Weyr makes you entitled to do so. I dunno if it'd be different for someone from Crom or not. But weyrfolk can just ask and unless there's a good reason not to, they're usually allowed to stand. Maybe it has to do with bloodlines or something. Not that there are any riders to in my family to prove my blood." The bronzerider finishes with the brush and moves to stroke the mare's neck. "High Reaches is my home. I came with my family, all crafters, when the comet had hit and they made the craft complex. My family left and I stayed on to apprentice to one of the Journeymen posted here." He doesn't press her for more information; if she doesn't want to tell him, so be it. K'zin simply nods to acknowledge her words. "If you find yourself here much longer, we should get a drink." It's more a thoughtful suggestion than a firm idea. She listens to his tale with open interest, but she doesn't ask anymore questions of a personal nature for now. Jadzia shifts away from the wall she's holding up and turns to the aisle, turning back around and stepping backwards as she asks, "You mean like right now? Because if you mean right now, I think I'd probably be okay with that." K'zin looks surprised; so, no, he didn't mean right now, but, "Uh, sure. Now would work." His brow furrows a moment and his look unfocuses just slightly, "Yeah. I don't have anything I have to be doing now." Evidently, consulting the mental schedule, a.k.a. Rasavyth. "Let me just finish up with her." Not that there's much left to do. He checks her hooves and rewards her with a redfruit from where his winter coat is hung on a nail outside the stall, and then donning it and a very bright red set of hat, mittens, and scarf, he gestures to offer she lead the way. Everyone looks ridiculous when gesturing with mittens, K'zin is no exception. "Good," says Jadzia with a pleased sort of grin. She waits patiently, probably because she doesn't have to wait all that long. And when he's ready, she's happy to lead the way to where she knows the bar is. She might not live here, but she knows how to drink is most places. "You're buying, right?" Then, eyeing his hat, mittens and scarf, "Did your girlfriend or mom makes those or something?" Why else would a grown man wear bright red accessories? "Aunt. I think it was a joke." K'zin admits. "Well, ex-aunt." Maybe that explains the joke? "They're warm, anyway. And the mittens are good luck." So there. If K'zin's eyes don't strictly watch where they're going the entire time, perhaps he can be forgiven; don't all bronzeriders have wandering eyes? "I'll buy." He confirms easily enough, shrugging; to him that must be no big deal. "So are you from Crom originally?" Jadzia glances over, eyes narrowed but amused. "You believe in all that? How are they good luck?" If she notices any wandering eyes, she doesn't seem to mind. If she weren't wearing a jacket that was too big for her, she might even be trying to encourage it. "Fantastic. I think I like you." As for Crom, "Not really. But more or less." So specific. "I got my first real kiss because I lost one of them." His smile is fond, but there's something sad about it too. "She found it in the snow." K'zin doesn't seem discouraged by the over-sized coat, but he's hardly a fashion guru: mittens. "Buying drinks for people does have that as a fringe benefit - increasing one's likability." It might be why he can be caught doing it often. "Care to elaborate? Or pick a topic you want to talk about?" Since the answer about her origins isn't terribly instructive. "Aw, how sweet." She sounds more like she's humoring him than that she might actually think it's sweet at all. "I have a hard time believing you had to lose a mitten to get a kiss. Did you 'lose' it on purpose?" Jadzia would believe that more readily. Men are tricksy. "At least we'll get plenty of room. Other people don't seem to like that stable smell as much as I do." Once they arrive at the Snowasis, she slips out of her jacket and hangs it on a hook. Whoever's jackets that ends up near will surely thank her later. "I'm not really from anywhere. But I wound up in Crom when I was young. So it's as home as anywhere." "It was and it wasn't. Turns out she didn't like me, but later she might've liked me, and then her mom died and she left the Weyr. I looked for her, but I've not been able to find her since." That explains probably both the fond and the sad, and doesn't that just sound convoluted? Just a slice of Weyr life, though hopefully not for the average consumer. "I lost it for real the first time, but I did forget it when she tried giving it back to me so she'd have to see me again. Only then she gave it to my friend, and--" He shrugs. That's that. K'zin's jacket follows hers onto the hooks, the hat, scarf and mittens going there as well, tucked away in pockets. Then he looks less ridiculous, even if the riding crop tucked into his tall boot is something of a fashion statement in a place like this. "Not much in the way of family?" He gathers from this as he moves to claim an empty table. "Not sure your mittens are as lucky as you say they are." Jadzia notes this while surveying the bar. She follows after him toward the table he chooses, but before he can sit, she grabs at his arm to point him toward an empty booth. "No. My parents died when I was young. My brother raised me. But he died, too." She doesn't sound particularly affected by any of that now, though. They're just things that happened in the past. "You still close with yours? You said they moved away, didn't you?" K'zin is easily enough led away from the table he was headed for, smiling at one of the servers as they get settled. "Well, we'd sort of been enemies since she broke my nose when I was twelve, and the mitten thing got us to be friends." So maybe that's really why he considers them lucky. It's easier for K'zin to answer this than to comment on her family. "I'm sorry, about your family," because that's what you say to an orphan in polite society. "Sort of, I guess, but not really. They were mad when I chose SmithCraft, then disowned me when I Impressed. My father's idea, all of it, really. He passed away last turn, so we've reconnected a bit since. But I wouldn't say I was especially close with most of them. Just the younger two. I'm told my mother came to see me after my dragon dislocated his wing and tore his wingsail, but I don't remember." Then, "It's on me." But this is to the server who arrives at the end of the table. "A water and whatever the pretty lady wants." "Ah. I guess I can see that." Jadzia only acknowledges the family thing with a brief smile, but little else. She's no doubt heard similar for much of her life and knows it's just one of those things people say. She listens, though, perhaps unsurprisingly not offering her own condolences about his father. The dragon's injuries, though, "Wow, I didn't even know they could get hurt like that. Wouldn't they just... crash if that happened while they were flying?" Maybe she shouldn't sound so interested. There's a glance between server and bronzerider. She frowns at the latter, "Aren't you drinking?" Then to the server, because she's not just getting water, "I'll take a beer. And a shot of... I don't care. Something cheap." Pause. "Make that two." "It happened in a crash," K'zin explains. "Another bronze ran into him during a flight. Tore his sail and he crashed. Dislocated his wing when he did. We were very fortunate." That last sounds like something memorized by the number of times it was heard and eventually accepted as Truth, even if they never felt fortunate. "I hear it was fun for the dragonhealers, sorting just how to fix it." The man nods his approval his order to the server when the server glances his way. "I am drinking. Water. Long ride with the other pretty lady, remember?" "That sounds awful. I'm glad he's okay." By which she probably means alive. "I broke my leg once. I can't imagine, you know, having the ability to fly and not being able to. Not being able to run or ride was hard enough." Jadzia makes a face about the water being a drink, but offers no further complaints. "It was." It's said matter-of-factly. "I've never known anything like it." K'zin's expression darkens for a moment, glancing after the server as though he might like to order a different drink now. But soon enough it clears. "It's one of the many things they don't tell you about having a dragon. I guess it was different once, in the Pass, because you were so likely to get hurt, but now... I don't remember anyone really talking to us about what it was like when you or your dragon are seriously injured. But then again, I guess it's different for everyone, because all the dragons are different and all the pairings are different." He's rambling a bit, so he cuts himself off with a shrug. "You ever wanted to be one? I know a lot of the people who grow up in Holds and Crafts don't always dream about it the way a lot of weyrbrats do." Jadzia listens quietly. That's probably because she doesn't really know what to say to a dragonrider when they're talking about this sort of thing. She looks almost, just barely, relieved when he moves on, though. "Sure? I dunno. I think most kids think about it a little bit. Never really given it serious thought, though, I guess. Not sure I want to now. At least if a runner gets hurt, it's not in your head." K'zin laughs when she expresses her doubts, "It's not all bad. A lot of riders go their whole lives without getting hurt now. Interval riding and all. There are definitely perks to being a rider, too. Having a lifemate, for one." Though perhaps some might disagree with him there. "Are you sure? Because runners seem to be magically attracted to anything and everything that could hurt them." And her only real comparison to dragons is with the runners she works with. Jadzia lifts a finger to count out the one. "I'll need a few more than just the one." "I'm sure. Some dragons, I imagine, have that sort of problem, just like some people. But some dragons are smarter than their riders. Like mine." K'zin doesn't seem to have any problem admitting this. "Let's see. You can travel wherever you want and it doesn't take long to get there or get back," if you're not injured and grounded somewhere. "You always have someone to talk to," though this can backfire, certainly. "Usually they love you." Usually. "And they can breath fire, which has to be a plus in anyone's book. "None of that sounds very set in stone," she points out, even if she does count them out on her fingers until all five are splayed apart. "I like my odds to be a little more in my favor, I think. Would you recommend it? Like if someone didn't know what they were doing with their life. Or wasn't happy with what they were doing. You think a dragon would make that any better?" Jadzia looks like she might ask more, all hypothetical, obviously, but when the drinks come, her focus is easily transferred onto downing one of those shots in an expert sort of fashion. "Is anything? Four turns or more ago, you weren't a trainer," not that he knows what she was doing, "Something changed, even if you were planning to make a change. Everything is taking chances." K'zin shifts to fish marks out of his pocket for the server as the drinks are delivered. It's only after they're alone again and K'zin has downed some of his water that he answers, "I don't know that a dragon makes it better unless dragonriding is something that person wants to do. It's not what everyone wants, and some that get it turn out not to like it, and some that didn't think to get it, love it. It just depends on what that person was doing. I love it, most days. I mean, sweeps are boring, but like I said, there's good company." He didn't specify good before, but that's mostly the same thing, right? For the marks, at least, Jadzia can offer a grateful sort of smile. "I wasn't planning on it," she says in a 'for the record' sort of way. For the rest, the plaited blonde studies K'zin's face for a little longer than necessary. Then she's sighing before drawing in another breathe to say, "I'm not sure that's actually all that helpful. Sounds nice and all, I mean. That freedom. Having someone you can depend on." There's a but, but Jadzia is more interested in drinking than exploring whatever it is. Surely she'll consider it more when she has all that time to think during work. "Like I said, it's not for everyone." K'zin seems to have no real aim to persuade her toward it. "So what do you do for fun back in Crom?" The rider aims to change the conversation entirely, looking at her over the edge of his water mug. "I drink, mostly. Go home with handsome men. Sometimes we don't make it home, exactly." Jadzia's gaze is starting to wander through the various patrons of the Snowasis. That probably means she's just answering the question and not trying to get a reaction. It probably wouldn't be much of a reaction from a bronzerider, anyway. "I ride, sometimes, for fun. But it's usually just work. Sometimes I go hunting." But something about that makes her wrinkle her nose. "What about you? I know you ride runners." "Well, that's honest." Or it sounds so to K'zin anyway, his brows might have risen just a bit, so if she was expecting not much of a reaction, at least there was one. His dusky cheeks even have a little color showing. "I'm awful at hunting." He volunteers this before, "I ride. I draw. I work in the forge. Sometimes I even do favors for people. Or I travel. When my dragon can fly. Oh, and I play chess, against my will. What kind of hunting do you do?" Clearly not his favorite topic, but he's probably being polite. "That's me. Honest Jad." Jadzia glances back at least soon enough to see the color in his cheeks, which makes her grin. "What kind of hunting do I do," she repeats like it's an interesting question. "The usual, I suppose. I like using a bow. But the boys only really let me tag along when they bring the hounds. Then again, I'm pretty fond of hunting men, too. You don't mind being hunted, do you?" Is this flirting? She hasn't had that much to drink yet. "What do you draw? And how do you play chess against your will?" The bronzerider was listening with interest until his blush has reason to refresh itself. It's apparently a question he has to think about, but after some moments K'zin answers, "Well, I suppose that depends on how I'm being hunted. A girl in my weyrling class," who would surely kick his ass for referring to her as a girl, "might have done it literally but not figuratively, and I wouldn't care for that much." He grins, but it's not for the hunting. It's to accompany the bemused, "Usually pretty ladies of the two legged variety." He has to take a drink, then frowns because it's water, before he answers the last. "My dragon likes to play. Inevitably I play with him. I've never won." "I can almost guarantee that you'd enjoy being captured. I could be hunting right now, even." And he seems to be enjoying himself better than 'not caring for it,' anyway. Jadzia has finished both of her shots now and seems to be taking the beer a little more slowly. "Are you any good? I'd love to get a drawing of myself. But only if you'd do it nude. I know someone that might appreciate it." As for chess, "If he's good, anyway, you're probably good against normal people. How does a dragon learn how to play chess, anyway? Did you teach him?" "Yeah?" It's true, K'zin doesn't seem to be deterring her from the hunt but neither does he seem wholly decided upon being willing prey. "I rarely draw clothes." So that answers that. "Some would think I'm not untalented." But he moves along quickly, "He had the Harper instructor for our weyrlinghood class show me and then he made me read a million books about it. You've never truly known boredom until you are on your fiftieth book about dragonchess." He rolls his eyes for this. "I'm decent against others, but not a great student so I still tend to lose often enough to keep me humble." No clothes? "Well, then. Sounds like a good match. I won't even try to take advantage of you when my clothes are off. If you don't want me to." Because otherwise this is evidently a done deal from Jadzia's point of view. "I'm not very good at it myself. But when I get the chance to play games, it's usually poker or darts or something that doesn't require a lot of thought." Granted, some might argue about poker. She must not be very good at that, either. "If it weren't for him, those would be my choices as well." K'zin appreciates thought-light games. Maybe he's bad at poker, too. At least, unassisted poker. "I suppose I could." The drawing. The agreement comes slowly though as if he's thinking something over, some hesitation he didn't apparently give into. "Who are you planning to give it to?" He doesn't comment on her trying to take advantage of him; maybe that's part of the hesitation. Jadzia lifts up her mug of beer to toast to his agreement. Quasi-agreement. She'll take it either way, probably, so long as she gets what she wants out of it. It's after a drink that she wrinkles her nose at him. "Nosy. It's just an old friend of mine. I know he'd just love it." Does innocence sit well on her expression? "Look, I usually charge a lot of marks for this kind of thing," K'zin has his game face on, shifting to fold his arms across his chest, "I'm assuming you want the discounted rate and I trade in information. Better than marks except when all you want is a drink." This all might explain why he doesn't have a problem buying hers. "An old lover?" He guesses, since she's not volunteering. "Who says I'm not willing to pay?" Jadzia sounds mildly offended. Except she did get the bronzerider to pay for her drink, and then sort of took advantage of it with three, so it's not like she acts like she has a lot of marks to spend on luxuries like nude drawings of herself. She studies K'zin carefully, as carefully as the drinks she's already had will allow, then says, "No. Just someone from my old life. I gave him a picture of me once. Found out recently that he kept it. For turns. So I thought it might be nice to give him a new picture now that I'm a grown woman. You think he'd like that?" "Three drinks." K'zin points to the empty shot glasses and beer, but grins at any rate. "Not that I mind. It just seemed like you'd want the friends and family discount. But friends tell each other things." Like who they're going to give a naked sketch of themselves to and why. "Most men do. Sometimes their girlfriends object, but that doesn't mean the men don't like it." The bronzerider gives a shrug to his shoulders. Three drinks. Yes. And Jadzia seems to think she needs another one once her beer is really, really gone. She waves for the server, but assures K'zin that, "I'll get it. You want a real drink yet?" "Thanks, I'm alright." His grimace says he'd like to give a different answer. It's gone quickly though. "I don't mind buying you another. But I want to know if you're suddenly buying because you don't want to tell me more or because you don't want to feel bought at the end of the date? Or whatever this is." K'zin doesn't seem sure that it is a date, but maybe; she has talked about hunting him after all. Jadzia shrugs at K'zin and orders something more for herself. "If I had a problem feeling bought at the end of the day," the day, not date, "I wouldn't let strange men buy me drinks in the first place. I just like to know what I am paying with before I'm indebted." Usually this isn't much of a question because most men are happy enough with her and not particularly interested in information that isn't directly relevant to them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like you had to tell me. Mostly I was curious." K'zin's response to her is genuine, "May I do your sketch for free to make it up to you? I won't even ask more questions if you'd prefer." Is it really her fault if Jadzia is looking a little suspicious now? Maybe not very surprising, anyway. "It's fine. But I don't need charity. Don't worry about it. I'll find someone else." Her gaze shifts away and she's probably really wishing she had her drink already. "Well." K'zin is blushing. His hand goes to his knee with an unintentional but audible soft clap. "There you have it. Made an ass of myself in the end, anyway. Guess all bronzeriders are shits after all. Or at least me. Sorry about that." He does look genuinely apologetic and moves to slide off his booth bench. "I won't inflict myself on you any more. It was nice to have met you, Jadzia sort-of-of Crom." He offers in a soft-spoken sort of way though he hasn't been so this while. Jadzia is confused. Deeply so. Like she doesn't know what quite has just happened. "Wait. Wait, wait. What do you mean inflict yourself on me? That sounds like some sorry ass pity bullshit to me." She looks at him like she expects some sort of explanation for it, though she's unlikely to chase after him if he doesn't stop. He does stop, looking confused himself. "I was under the impression that I'd made you uncomfortable?" K'zin stands awkwardly at the end of the table looking at the blonde, his baritone lilting up in uncertainty at the end. "Faranth. No. And so what if you had? I make people uncomfortable all the time." Jadzia gives him a look like she's daring him to tell her that she hasn't made him at least a little uncomfortable. But, "Go. Don't stay on my account, bronzerider." "Do you?" No, he hadn't noticed. K'zin glances back to his seat before tilting his head a little as he looks at the woman. "But I'm only here to begin with on your account..." More confusion. "Well, you sure didn't seem interested." Which is practically the same thing, apparently. If you're Jadzia. "Thanks for the drinks," she tells him. "I owe you." She doesn't sound particularly thrilled by that idea. But it will have to stand. "No, you don't." K'zin's tone is matter of fact; no debts. "It's not that I'm not interested, it's just that it's been a while since I've had a beautiful stranger in my bed." Maybe he means it. Or maybe he's just a charmer. Or a wannabe anyway. Jadzia starts to open her mouth, like she has a ready, waiting response for matters of his bed. But she stops herself, considers for a moment, then says instead, "I was training to be a guard. They kicked me out. That's why I train runners." And canines. And men. She lifts her gaze to his. Does that at least cover some of the debt he says she doesn't owe? K'zin probably doesn't see this as payment of a non-existent debt. He does, however, seem to see this as an invitation to stay; clearly she wants to talk to him more, and with more intimate information. So he settles back on the edge of his bench, feet in the aisle. "That sounds rough. I'm sorry. I take it you weren't thrilled to be free of the guard?" Then, "I'm not even sure that I realized there were women taken into the Crom guard," which either speaks to their scarcity or perhaps his ignorance of Crom. He did say he'd been away a while. "That's putting it lightly," says Jadzia. She was definitely not thrilled about it. But it happened a long time ago and she can offer a quirked grin about it now. Her drink comes and, once the server has left again, she answers, "There're some. Not many. Fewer now." That she didn't manage to stick. Then, "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" There's a solemn nod from the bronzerider for the first, but he doesn't ask more questions, likely in deference to the previous statement that he wouldn't. But the last gets a simple answer. "Yes." Did she want him to elaborate? He doesn't, just looks at her, expression honest as these things go. It's probably not just a line, in spite of the color of his dragon. For just a moment, there's a sad little smile pulling at Jadzia's lips. And then it's drowned with her drink, her face slipping back into neutral. "I should get back," she lies, taking another drink to finish it off before she's slipping out of the booth to get to her feet. Her feet aren't exactly steady once she's standing, but it's hard to tell if she notices herself. "Thanks for... you know," she makes an airy gesture with her hand to encompass everything she's unspecifically thanking him for. He's standing a breath behind her, the haste awkward. "Right. No problem." K'zin looks a little confused but no one ever said he was the brightest glow in the bronzerider bunch. "If you're ever at the Weyr again and want to do something - just... find me, I guess." Maybe that's his way of saying he enjoyed her company. "Sure," Jadzia agrees readily enough, though it might not be an entirely convincing sort of agreement, like she fully expects never to meet this man again. Or that he won't remember her if they do. "Take care, handsome," she adds, reaching a hand, lacking in much fine motor control, to try patting him briefly on the shoulder. And then she's off to where they'd hung their jackets. Did she ever pay for her last drink? If she didn't, he does. He had offered, anyway. But that business is taken care of only after K'zin watches her leave, his smile touched a little with something sad before the smile is gone entirely and replaced by a furrowed brow and tightening lips. "Coming," escapes him unwittingly before he's heading to get his coat and hasten to where he's wanted, which is no longer here and maybe never even really was. |
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