Logs:Prize Fight
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| RL Date: 20 March, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin and Jo catch up in the Igen desert, Jo wins a prize fight, and gets her reward. |
| Where: Somewhere in the Igen Desert |
| When: Day 22, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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| R'hin's been scarce about the Weyr lately -- not that that's unusual, in any way -- he's been talking recently, of time spent at High Reaches Hold, and even Igen. What is probably more unusual is the fact that he's not present at the clutching party -- rarely one to pass up an opportunity for a good celebration -- nor for some time after. When Leiventh contacts Tacuseth, there's a hesitancy that isn't normal in the usually stoic bronze: a fleeting sense of an Igen desert scape that is both familiar and not, in that it is desert, made only distinct by the low-slung tents that are spread out as the sun sinks. As for Jo, it can be pretty predictable that after the goldrider Aishani's death, her dark presence about the Weyr would have all but vanished into the cold Reachian air. While one was sure to listen to rumors that the convict rider was either lost in grief, had transferred to another Weyr, or (in some lower cavern cases) had finally got what was coming to her in the form of a shank to the gut and was dead, if one wanted the real truth, all one had to really do was seek her oily dragon. Perhaps, with so much time of dead silence to those beyond her tiny circle, there maybe the slight shock of Tacuseth's mind to find the bronze's touch reaching out to him with such faraway image that it's a moment before his touch returns, the familiarity strong enough to suggest that Leiventh's call is one of very few these days that his rider is willing to answer. He doesn't even verbalize an answer, but perhaps he can sense Tacuseth and his rider near once they wink in from Between to fly over the Igen desert tents. Once Leiventh seen assured of the blue's receipt -- even if it's nonverbal -- the bronze shies away, which is unusual behavior; he doesn't strategically retreat or boldly withdraw, just shies away, fluttering to nothingness. This persists, even with the appearance of the blue above the Igen desert -- only a careful scan might spot the bulk of the angular bronze alongside a dune far away from the cluster of tents below. The traders are familiar -- in that R'hin's taken her to see them before -- a few recognized faces, some more familiar than others. The music, agreeable chatter, and other such amiable noises come from the largest tent, and yet R'hin's outside, settled cross-legged on the desert floor, watching the sun sink. There's a bottle of something near to his hand. Tacuseth was never one to pry, and it's a testament that his touch lingers just a fraction longer enough to show some curiosity before it's severed. Once landed close to Leiventh, Jo dismounts in the reckless way she always does as she takes in the familiar surroundings. Her usually shoulder-length hair has been hacked much shorter and is sticking up at odd ends as she pulls the riding helmet off her head while approaching the traders. The way she walks is still bold, still arrogant, but if one that studies her could tell that something was off. She walks right up to R'hin once spotting him, sitting right outside of the tent and doesn't even bother to look around then. "Been 'while since we've been here," she notes in a low greeting, cased in her black leather and looking in all of Pern as if the heat doesn't bother her. Nodding towards the bottle, "Care to share?" There's just a hint of startlement briefly visible in R'hin's demeanor to suggest he's surprised at her presence, though definitely not unpleasantly so, given the pleased smile that crosses his lips moments later. He looks tired -- or like he's been drinking for some time and it's starting to wear -- dusting off a patch of sand for her, before proffering the bottle in her direction. The liquid is spicy and strong, leaving a bit of a burnt aftertaste. "They've been eluding me," the bronzerider says as he watches her, sidelong, with just the smallest quirk of lips. "But I'm obnoxiously persistent, so," a spread of hands, as if to say, here we are. "The Weyr won' leave a girl to her own dark devices while she grieves," comes easily from Jo as she settles down beside the bronzerider, returning his smile and taking up his bottle with a nod of thanks. "But Tac seems to insist on answerin' yer calls. She takes a liberal drink without a hint of a wince before tilting her head back and settling on an exhale before turning a dark gaze his way. Or rather, taking him in with her gaze. After a moment, "Ya look bogged down'n worn out by the troubles in yer life," she observes with a hint of interest. "Why aren' we inside this here tent? I hear lack of relief is one of the main causes of death in a bronzerider." Some of the old Jo in her has her waggling her brows a bit to make that suggestion just as racy as it sounds. There's a nod; of sympathy, of acknowledgement. "After a while," R'hin says, slowly, "After so many -- sometimes it's easier just to press on, than deal." Hard to tell whether he means it advice for her, of his own sake, or of the Weyr and their persistence. He doesn't reach for her, but he does lean his shoulder into hers so that they're touching. "I was. They just felt so... carefree, and it made me jealous. Angry. Needed a moment." Or two, or three, judging by the coldness of his skin, now that the heat of the day is being quickly overtaken by the cold of the night-time desert. His lips twist, and there's that familiar, low-throated chuckle at the bluerider's words. "I'm thinking you're more likely to be the death of me than the lack of you." "I've spent more than a lifetime not dealin'," comes gravelly from the covict rider as she looks about them with heavy eyes. "I've just gotten really good at coverin' it up." His lean seems to hearten her though, the small incline of her head towards him even though no words are given. No words are needed, it seems. "Carefree," Jo echoes that word, seeming to taste it before a small snort is given and she takes a drink in response to it. "Perhaps I shouldn' darken them with my presence, then. The way my dragon tells it, even the trees will lose its color and shrivel to dust if I come near. His words. I think I would be the death of ya, bronzerider," she adds in quiet agreement, some sobriety bleeding into the tease as she gently nudges that shoulder with her own. "Seems like, those that draw close end up dead." There's a pregnant pause, as if going over those words before she moves on with, "So. If we're not here to drink'n be merry, then are we here to cause someone some distress?" Back to the banter. There's another dark little chuckle that seems almost agreeable, fading swiftly after. "Yeah. We get good at pretending, don't we?" R'hin adds, stretching for the bottle, but letting his fingers press over hers instead and linger there in lieu of claiming the alcohol. "When I die," he says, with a sudden, sober, certainty, "It's going to be because of a stupid mistake, or something of my past. Not because of a pretty, bewitching bluerider. Being a rider is its own risk. People like us," he gives the merest twitch of his shoulder, as if to slough off the concern, even if it doesn't quite leave the tired lines of his expression, "Accept that." With a glance over his shoulder, in the direction of the dragons, he gives a brief, suggestive smile. "Mmm. No bars here. But I suppose there's always the Hold. You could try and give me a heart attack with your youthful energy," is his suggestion. His words, and that, that gets Jo to laugh. It's a rich sound and not hollow. Watching his fingers linger, "When I die," she echoes his very words before her dark gaze finds his, "I reckon it would be for the very same reasons. I don' think I could've said that better meself." A nod to R'hin on that, some of the tension leaving her shoulders - as something said had been decided. His latter draws a brows, as if the bronzerider had thrown down a challenge. "Now don' go makin' wagers that may end up bein' a stupid mistake, now," she teases, making an open play on his words. "I may have been outta the circuit a bit, but that don' mean I've been tempered. Ya know I'd go anywhere ya wanna. So long as we end up in trouble by the end of it." Suggestion meets suggestion. "Ya can also regale me on any tidbits of information, too while we're at it," she notes easily. "A lot of my sources have dried up as of late." "No? How would I know? You might well have gotten all rusty with disuse," R'hin replies, giving her a sidelong once-over, along with a, mmmm, of thoughtful consideration, pale eyes amused. Her words have him rising, smoothly, reaching down a hand for hers, a grin that is more at ease, more genuine: "Pimping me for information? That's going to cost you, temptress. I know just the place. We can fly straight from here." Jo can't play the shocked coquette for his words, so she settles for the usual crass. "I'm one of those that never gets rusty. I make sure I'm oiled, bronzerider." There's a flash of teeth to accompany that before her hand is in his and she's up on her feet. To his question, "But is it pimpin' ya or pumpin' ya, really?" As if she doesn't know. Her eyes flick to the sky as if it did need some careful thinking before a chuckle escapes and she adds, "We can say I've got enough saved for a rainy day. Haven' ya learned us convicts always pay our debts in the end?" One way or another. Her nod signals him to lead the way. "I bet you do," R'hin says, laughingly. His fingers play over hers, while they walk the distance towards the shadowy bulk of their dragons. "Mm. The latter I'd enjoy more, I think," the Savannah rider replies, after a moment's careful, overindulgent, thought, followed by a low-throated laugh. He takes the time to sneak in a moment to lean in and press his lips to hers, his welcome kiss far from chaste, before he heads for Leiventh. The flight is pleasant, just the wind and the dark, eventually drawn by the distant glow of lights at a small bar on a road leading to Igen Hold. It's her sort of bar -- not quite as visceral as Greenfields, but the sound of yelling and shouting is undoubtedly cheering for some fight -- sanctioned or other. Jo kicks a nod towards her dragon as they approach, her walk not as stiff as before as she gives into laughter at his responses to her crass words. "As if I don' make both options worth yer while," she notes before takes that kiss in, returning it with the raucous heat that has its familiar aggression before she departs for Tacuseth. The blue follows easily as if he knew exactly the place being taken, and the sounds from the bar spotted from above draws laughter stolen away by the wind. Perhaps that laughter is transferred through the blue to Leiventh before descending, the convict rider already dismounting and pulling off her gloves one finger at a time as if in anticipation. If Leiventh hears -- and it's undoubted that he does -- there's no response to the blue, other than the remnants of skittish, cold wind. R'hin's clothing is casual enough -- without the hint of riding leathers -- to make do, landing smoothly and stepping away before Leiventh retreats a further distance, while his rider almost immediately settles gaze on Jo with a grin. His attention is fixed almost exclusively on her even as he's heading for the bar, the sound washing over them, a grin widening across his features as if in anticipation. Inside, there's a big, slow guy -- shaved head -- swinging wildly at a slightly smaller guy in the midst of the bar. All the tables have been moved aside, and around them, there are hollers and cheers, as -- in a lucky (or perhaps not so lucky) move, the larger man grabs the smaller by the collar, lifts him up, and all but slams him into the ground, to the oohs, and ahhs, and winces that ripple amongst the crowd. When his opponent doesn't get up, marks start exchanging hands, albeit somewhat reluctantly. As she walks, she watches Leiventh retreat and it's only until she's within speaking distance of his rider that she states, "Yer dragon's awfully distant," perhaps in observation from her own, but there's little concern in her tone. But then they're in and there's indeed something far more interesting to watch (besides each other), having arrived at the best time. Jo is enthralled, turning to R'hin to say wryly, "Ya sure know how to show a girl a good time. Think I've almost heard one of his bones snap." That's called flirting for one like Jo. Already she's looking towards the bar, for entertainment like this definitely deserves a drink. R'hin's, "No more so than usual," might be light enough to be dismissive, though there's a hint of tension in his posture that she might pick up as his hand, reflexively, settles into the middle of her back as they walk inside. "Drinks, first," the bronzerider adds, reading her intentions, angling in that direction. "Whose next? Step up, challenge Big Brawn here," a small, nasally announcer calls, gesturing towards the big bald guy. While he's doing that, someone begins to drag off the previous opponent. "Undefeated tonight, who will be the next challenger willing to step up and make a mint?" One knows that while Jo is good at playing the role of someone who doesn't give a damn about anything, be sure that she misses little. One can bet that the little tidbit and the hint of tension surrounding it in regards to R'hin and his dragon is being filed away as the convict rider seeks her liquor. She angles towards the bar with him as she states, "somethin' hard," as the announcer makes his calls. She casts a quick eye about the place then, falling on those that look like they could be a contender for the champion before she leans over and asks R'hin, "How do ya find these places so far from home? Is Igen part of the history ya don' like to talk about?" she asks as she then moves past some of the wandering bar patrons. "Make that two," R'hin adds on the heels of Jo's request, with an approving nod. While they wait, his gaze goes, naturally, towards the announcer, and towards the big man. "Spent a lot of time exploring, after... after Leiventh. After I left the Reaches. I like finding new places, experiencing new things. I think that if you don't, it's like... wasted opportunity." He looks at her, as if he expects her, of all people, to understand. There's a slam, then a second, as the bartender puts their drinks on the bar, and the bronzerider slides over a coin. Lifting his glass, he toasts Jo silently, taking a gulp. The glass is held near his mouth as he murmurs to her with a quirk of lips, "You can take him," with a nod towards the big man. "No one? Will no one step up? Well, guess we'll just have to sweeten the pot," the announcer says, gesturing towards a table, on which a not-so-smile pile of coins sit, and next to which a mean-eyed bouncer stands. A short brunette quickly walks out, adding a handful of coins to the pot, to the cheering (and leering, and whistling) of the audience. Once the drinks are ordered and she settles beside him, his words on travel has Jo regarding him silently before she nods once in understanding. "I should do more," she says in open agreement. "I should see more. It's good. Useful. I've actually seen more with ya on these jaunts than I have since Tac found me." Yeah, she's know all about wasted opportunities. Then the drinks arrive and she lifts hers when R'hin does, inclining her head before the glass is to her lips. But his murmur gives pause to taking a drink, a slight furrow of brow as her eyes dart over to access the champion standing by. When the brunette walks out to sweeten the pot, "I'd rather the woman than the extra marks," is her own murmur, almost as if she's considering it. Then she takes a drink. "If you're nice to me, maybe I'll invite you along more often," R'hin replies, with a low-throated chuckle. It continues as his gaze is drawn by her comment towards the brunette, assessively. "Could have both," he counters, with a wicked grin, before his gaze flickers back to the big man. "He's big, but slow. He's used to just overpowering everyone else. He's stopped protecting his vulnerable areas." His fingers brush against the inside of Jo's arm as he talks. "Or, we could just waylay the brunette." The one that, it seems, is used to the leering and looks, and dodges out of the reach of a slapped hand, heading towards the back. Jo says, "When am I not?" Jo counters on nice, brows lifting along with her lopsided smile. "I haven' even offered ya a poison drink yet." That's something. Dark eyes fall on the champion as R'hin gives his assessment, studying the large man before she murmurs, "There's potential that he could still kick my ass." It's said in a way that suggest that it wouldn't be a deterrent for her. She nods towards the girl then, adding, "'N if so, ya think she would be into scarred up women?" She drains her glass right then with a chuckle, setting it down audibly before slapping her hand on the bar, hard and loud enough to draw stares. In her loud voice, "Yeah, alright. I'll take ya on." She even puts a slight slurring into her voice to suggest she's not exactly sober." R'hin's chuckling, spreading his hands, as he takes another gulp from his glass. After a contemplative moment looking at the brunette, he leans closer to Jo to murmur: "Judging by the way she's looking at him, she'd probably consider it a worthwhile reward." When Jo steps up, he looks pleased, draining his glass too, before pushing away from the bar. He's already stepping into the crowd, undoubtedly making bets. The announcer looks surprised, and momentarily uncertain, at the sight of Jo. "This aint no place for little girls," the announcer says, while Big Brawn chuckles dismissively at her. "But... if you want to mess up your pretty little face..." he glances around the crowd, "We have a challenger! The little girl, versus the big brawn! Place yer bets!" There's open laughter for his comment before Jo's swaggering up through the crowd, much of the old Jo on open display this day. Her short hair is being flicked back as she angles a look behind her at R'hin, one full of all the bravado and flare she can muster before she lands that gaze on the announcer. Seeing that flash of uncertainty, "What?" she challenges him loudly, making a spectacle of herself like she's had one too many drinks. "Gotta somethin' against a girl tryin' to make a little without havin' to spread her legs wide open, huh? Is there a rule somewhere 'bout girls not knockin' someone out in this fine establishment, ehh??" She's even looking around as if she were expecting the crowd to agree right along with her. The champion's dismissal of her gets a loud snort from her as she approaches along with a bawdy, "Betcher I can nail that girl back there faster'n you can!" She might as well rile him up a bit as those around place their bets. It's fairly clear, even just from the murmurs of surprise and the hooted hollering in the crowd, where the weight of betting is leaning his this particular fight, even if the yells of, "Get 'er Biggie", weren't coming from them. Undoubtedly, R'hin's taking advantage of that, before he finds a place where he can get a good view of the fight, grinning at Jo when she looks over at him. It's by no coincidence that he's near the brunette. "Big" Brawn is looking darkly over his shoulder at the brunette, who is stepping back, then back to Jo with a smirk. "Silly girl," he grunts. "All bets, all bets in!" yells the announcer. "Are you ready?" the crowd roars, "FIGHT!" it's not much of a lead up, but the big, bald guy has been working with the announcer long enough to know when the fight starts, and he's already lumbering at Jo with a swing of his arm towards her head, with the intent of a follow up of his left fist. Jo's pretty much ignoring the flow of the crowd now, sauntering towards her opponent with a look of anticipation. She shoulders out of her black leather jacket and tosses it in R'hin's direction, sending back with it, "'M gonna need it soon enough for either vomit or blood. Hold it for me," and then she's off. The first hit, she eats, and it knocks her right back and down into a crouch enough to duck the second one. Then with a quick shake of her head to loose off the blow, she's going in for a body slam - which could, really, be amusing with him towering over her in size alone. It's only when the body slam looks like it's about to connect that she suddenly angles up at the last minute, aiming to headbutt him right in the chin. R'hin catches her jacket, swinging it over his shoulder, rocking back on his heels in anticipation. He half turns, and makes a comment, something that attracts the brunette enough to edge forward, and then both of them are fixed on the fight. The big bald guy laughs, joyfully, when his first connect hits, makes a noise of surprised disappointment when his second misses. It's her body rush that earns a full-throated laugh, though, and cheering of the crowd in anticipation of the failure -- no one, it seems, expects the headbutt, least of all the big guy. He looks stunned, wavering dangerously on his feet, while he flails a hand to try and grab a hold of something, anything, of Jo's. The crowd goes from laughing to near-quiet, deadly silence -- aside from a familiar, low-throated chuckle from the direction of a certain bronzerider. Surfing on the crowd's roar, Jo doesn't linger on her headbutt. When it starts to grow quiet and the champion sways, this time it's the convict rider letting loose a chuckle lingering around R'hin's before she pivots out of the way of any grabbing hands. Instead, with him focused on trying to keep from falling, she's moving into position to aim jabs at his side. It's one after another, the woman light on the balls of her feet before she shoots a leg out to try and sweep the man to the ground. None of these are showy moves (Jo is one to make a show out of everything) but she seems determined to land the man on his ass anyway. The grab of Big Brawn's for Jo misses, and he half turns so that her jabs into his side hit his stomach instead. He seems to be getting his balance back, and he takes a step towards her just before she sweeps his legs out from under him. He goes down with a heavy thud, knocking his head with a roll of his eyes. The sharp gasps and and mutters of surprise that follows suggests that the crowd is almost as stunned as their 'champion'. The announcer nudges the big guy, leaning down to mutter, "Get up you big lug," while R'hin, on the sidelines, yells, "Start the count! He's out!" Next to him, the brunette adds her voice, "Start the count!" and then they're all yelling it: "START THE COUNT!" under pressure, the announcer slams his hand against the floor, and with a visible reluctance, stands, reaching for Jo's hand to lift it. "We have a new champion!" There's enough cheering, more than would've bet for Jo, as if the crowd is pleasantly surprised or, perhaps, like the delighted brunette, happy to see the big man get his just dues. "Go claim your prize," the announcer mutters to Jo, "And get the hell out of here. I don't wanna see you again." Jo is cocky enough to watch her opponent go down with a smile plastered on her face. She's not the gracious type at all, and so when the announcer grabs her arm and lifts, she's throwing a wink in R'hin's direction. "Yer just sour cuz ya betted on the wrong canine this time, darlin'," she sends towards the angry announcer's words, making sure to brush her wiry frame by him on her way to claim her prize. Over her shoulder, "Next time? Recognize whenever I come into the room. It's Jo if ya wanna ask 'bout me." She's that cocky. She even blows a kiss to crowd as their new champion, and with a swing of hips she approaches the brunette with the bronzerider while sweeping up the marks along the way into her pant pockets. She makes a show of looking over the woman thoroughly before her gaze skips to R'hin before she says, "He told me to go claim my prize." Such innocence in words, the danger there underneath as that gaze returns to the woman beside him. "Her name is Jezzy," a very-pleased R'hin informs Jo, pale eyes having tracked her from the the middle of the bar, to the table, and to him. "Jezzy, this is Jo." He leans in towards the bluerider, murmuring into her ear with a warm voice as his hand slips briefly around her waist, "You were amazing. I'm going to go collect all the bets and rub their noses in it, get something for us to drink, and meet you both upstairs, hm? Jezzy has a room -- it's small, but I imagine we can make do." Jezzy's blushing, but she's definitely looking at Jo with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. "You were amazing," the brunette says. "Jezzy," Jo echoes the name in greeting to the brunette, her smile more mysterious than dazzling before R'hin has her attention. "Yer a bad influence to someone who's already a bad influence, do ya know that?" she notes to the bronzerider with a browlift, amused at his words. "Go on, then. We'll meet ya up there. Just make sure ya get a double shot for me. Bastard threw a good arm," and she rubs her head in addition. Then she's turning back to Jezzy, noting her blush with a growing smile to her complement enough to incline her head in thanks to it. "Ya should come see what else I'm amazin' at," she notes with a lift of her hand, palm up in offer. "'M Sure ya'll be just as impressed." It's something she can bet on. R'hin's low throated chuckle suggests he knows exactly how much of a bad influence he is, and there's not a hint of apology in pale gaze for it. With a wink, he disappears off into the crowd. The brunette darts a look at the crowd, but they're still marveling over the big guy -- some of those are even brave enough to take what is obviously a revenge shot and give the big man a bit of a kick or nudge while he's down. Jazzy takes Jo's hand, and, feeling bolder, says, "I'm sure I will be. Rath said you were very good." With a darted look of anticipation, before leading the way upstairs. The room is indeed relatively small, but they can make do, especially with the bottle of dark liquid that R'hin brings shortly after. |
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Comments
Alida (02:27, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
Alida misses Jo. She'd be envious of her, at this moment. ^^
Edyis (03:59, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
Haha Yes. Loved this. <3 Jo!
Jolie (21:46, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
Aww, Jo misses Alida too! <3 There needs to be a brawl in the future of some sort!
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