Logs:Them Apples
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| RL Date: 8 August, 2014 |
| Who: R'hin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin and Telavi are selling apples at HRH's Gather. No, really. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 22, Month 6, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alani/Mentions, Bristia/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Edyis/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Suireh/Mentions, Vinien/Mentions |
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| "Of course I understand," and Telavi smiles prettily as though she means it, while the burly holder puts all the apples that he'd gathered back before giving them another apologetic smile and scurrying off to hear the harpers. She saves her small grimace for likewise-incognito R'hin and their day's comrades running the nearby Gather booths. "It had better be a very nice drama, is all I can say, to take all our business," and their gossip, "like that." R'hin, of course, has been enjoying the warmer summer weather. It's not quite as warm as Monaco's summer, so he can't justify taking his shirt off -- instead, the neck of his loose shirt is half unlaced, and he lounges in one of the chairs while Telavi tends to the customers. "Harpers rousing the masses to... something," is the bronzerider's guess, waving Telavi to join him in the other chair; meanwhile, he's producing a bottle and grinning. He's not so sorry for the interruption. "This is beginning to feel like actual work, you know." "It really is." Though Tela does curve a smile his way, even so, before perching on the edge of the other chair in a flounce of skirts. "I wish your sister," Bristia, "were here to critique it for us. Or to man the booth while we watch.... the question is, will it have to do with what's going on at this Hold, or outside it?" "Of course, the occasional breaks with good wine help." R'hin splashes the more-warm-than-cold liquid into the glasses, offering the first to the greenrider. "She's... busy, down at the docks." Whatever it is the Wingleader isn't willing to interrupt, even for some additional entertainment. With a lift-and-drop of shoulder that becomes a single motion, he says, "It's less important what message the harpers are trying to spread, as what message people take from it. I'm sure we'll find out shortly after. In the meantime..." he's lifting his own glass, tipping it towards her in silent toast, and taking a good, long draught. "Fishy fishy docks," Tela muses as she accepts the glass, though whether they smell fishy in a literal or figurative sense... with Telavi, and Bristia, why not both? She even waits until he's filled his to sip. "Better her than us, I say. A little sunshine, a little shade, no kids..." draconic or otherwise. "Not that things aren't looking up, there, even getting a bit more sleep." A snort is given in turn. "You say that now, but the next lot will be out there soon, keeping you awake all night. Still so sure you don't want to just come back to Savannah full time? I'll fight Quinlys for you." He'll try anyway, and R'hin is nothing if not persistent. Telavi gives him a look. "Don't you dare tempt me. I'd love to see you fight her for me-- and to come back, of course," more teasingly. "At least Lady Issedi must have helpers for her Alani, even on top of there being only one of her." And in response to that look, R'hin's own, naturally, is a mixture of amused and thoughtful. "I'd only do it if there was mud involved, though, just so you know." The negligent wave of his hand suggests that she can go ahead and set it up anytime. "Nannies aplenty, I would guess. That's what, three girls now, and Vinien. In fairness, girls do need more... handling." His low throated chuckle suggests he knows that'll probably earn some retaliation, but it doesn't stop him. "I'm sure the little ones would help with the mud," Telavi notes with not a little mischief, never mind that by now most of the 'littles' are taller than she is; leaving any potential plans aside, she gives him another look before she sips. "It must be hard, though," she says. "Having to have it matter like that, instead of enjoying-- or not enjoying-- whatever comes out. Lady Edeline..." Need she say more? "One of the rumors I heard around the Weyr for why she didn't come to the hatching was that she was pregnant. I hope that doesn't get back to her." R'hin chuckles, though it's faint and under his breath. A lengthy pause, perhaps due to the fact that a single passerby lurks briefly near their booth before moving on. "Have you been to see her, you know, since?" By the bronzerider's tone it's not clear which answer he's hoping to hear. That passerby gets a demure smile from Telavi, never mind that the wine glass is still in her hand, but then she says, "Once. Except... I didn't get to see her, she was 'indisposed.' Speaking of rumors." She has a bit of a moue, but there's sympathy there, for all that the two can never be said to be close. "Mm. That might be for the best. If she's cut off official channels, you want to take care what happens with the unofficial ones. You should speak to K'del, get some guidance." From someone other than himself, surprisingly. That moue earns a casual pat of her leg from R'hin, who is shaking his head. "If only you weren't busy with other things..." why, yes, he's definitely taunting her now, expression determinedly frowny for all the missed opportunities. And that-- that last, after her serious nod for K'del-- gets him a flick of a finger from her thumb to his knee... followed by, after another sip, Tela's glass held out. Fill 'er up! She waits until he's begun to pour, or else shows no signs of it, before she mentions-- smoothly, to conceal hesitation-- "K'zin's dragon is getting closer to passing muster with the dragonhealers, too, so that's good news." Quite possibly it's not smoothly enough. With a wince that's only slightly more exaggerated than than the violence that's inflicted, R'hin straightens to dutifully reach for the bottle. Her glass is refilled first, then his own. At the mention of K'zin's name, he gives her a knowing sort of look, and a grunt in acknowledgement. Whatever topic she wants to get to in regards to the other bronzerider, he's certainly not planning to make it any easier. Of course he's not. Tela sits back, if not ladylike at least well-behaved, glancing down at the wine in her glass before returning her gaze to R'hin. "I was hoping you might be able to come up with a mission or two for him," to put it right out there, lest they get interrupted like before. She might say more, but after a poised moment, she exhales the rest of the way in silence. R'hin sets an elbow on the arm of the chair, then sets his chin in the palm of his hand, all thoughtful like while he stares at her intently. After a long moment, he says, "Is it my duty now to keep wayward bronzeriders -- that fall into the Weyrleader's wing -- busy?" Tela sits beneath his scrutiny, no posing nor fidgeting, her fingers still gently curved rather than tightened about her glass. Which doesn't mean that a smile doesn't enter those grave blue-green eyes when he does speak; "Certainly not. I just thought you might find him useful in some way. You seem to find uses for all sorts of things, after all. Don't you?" "I do. But K'zin's never really struck me as a useful thing," comes the Savannah Wingleader's bland response. Tela's mouth twitches, not happily; her tone's lighter when she says, "Useful person, then." But. "If you really don't find him so, in and of himself-- even now-- what about a distraction, a deflection?" "All right," R'hin agrees, far too amiably, "If you tell me why you're asking." Tela looks away from him, finally, her glance roving up and down the walkways. Still no customers? Well; "An injury like that, it changes a person," she says to R'hin now. "He's been helping F'manis with hidework, and his old journeyman, and he'll be back to sweeps in not too long but... it seems like just treading water, the same old thing, you know? Not to get out of sweeps, but he could really use something that he can run out and do. That isn't just maintenance but..." she's had to set down her wineglass so she can gesture, expansively now, "'Making a difference.' I know, I know; but still." "He needs a babysitter. I got that," R'hin waves a hand, dismissively. "But I want to know why you're asking. Did the accident curtail his tongue, too? His ability to form coherent sentences?" She has to control the flash of her eyes with the sudden veiling of her lashes, looking down to where she's picking the glass up again, sipping. It's after a moment, and another moue, that Telavi looks to meet R'hin's gaze once more. "You, my dear sir, are 'Suireh's Dad.'" She can, and does, perform air quotes one-handed. "Would you consider it if he came to you?" "That he can't ask himself and has to send the woman he's sleeping with to do his bidding suggests one of two things: that he's completely incapable of holding his own and it would be ludicrous to send him out to even get rolls, or he's trying to manipulate me into being more sympathetic to the question. If it were you, would you consider it, roles reversed?" R'hin's watching her keenly, taking in her physical reaction as much as a verbal one. Someday, Telavi might be able to wholly control her blush around R'hin; the fleeting emotions that cross her face, however-- the momentary tightening of her lips with disfavor, the way her glance turns reproachful after a wince, the sharpening tilt of her brows as he continues that all at once eases-- those she doesn't seek to conceal from him. "What? You're not giving me credit for being able to manipulate a strong man-- him, of course-- to do my bidding? I'm disappointed in you." Telavi eyes him, too, though she doesn't keep her nose in the air. Less archly, "For argument's sake, considering your scenario... I would certainly consider it. I wouldn't start out welcoming him with open arms, but I'd see what I could do with him, put him to the sort of task that hasn't great consequences or that will be useful however it pans out. Nor would I be bothered if someone were trying to weight the dice in his favor; it's only the first play, after all, and it's what we do." R'hin's face, in turn, displays an attentiveness, thoughtful while Telavi speaks, but not overly expressive. After she's done speaking, he leans forward to refill her glass, and it's no coincidence that he does so before he speaks. "He's a flushing teenager who can't control his expression, his opinion on matters he knows nothing about, or -- it seems -- even his dragon. For the sort of work we do, any one would be a burden, but all three..." he shakes his head sharply, exhaling. "Telavi, Telavi, Telavi." It's a tone of disappointment. "I can keep him occupied if that's what you want. And then we'll see." It's not a no, but it's not a resounding yes, either. The wine doesn't tremble within her glass, but neither does Telavi interrupt her wingleader, not to argue and not otherwise; that disappointed tone has her reflexively lowering her gaze before she, more slowly, lifts it. "That's all I'd ask for. It's an opportunity. What happens then isn't up to me." "We'll see," is, oddly, tacked onto her comment that it isn't up to her. R'hin straightens, as a handful, then more people start walking down their section of the gather. "The harpers must have finished up. Better hide the wine, I think," he gulps down his, setting glass and bottle behind his chair as he pushes to his feet, tugging his shirt straight. That done, he stretches out a hand to help Telavi up. "Let's see what they think of the harper's entertainment, shall we?" Her gaze refocuses on hs, widened-- and then she has more to gulp, but only makes it halfway before she sets down her own glass; maybe it's too good a vintage for her to do that, maybe she's in a hurry, maybe there's just too much. Of course she accepts the help-- the direction-- for all that she can't need it; "Let's. I'd meant to remark on Edyis, but... later." Right now Tela has a smile to put on. A twitch of brows, for her mention of the young recordskeeper, but R'hin doesn't ask -- doesn't have time to ask -- as a father approaches with his two young children in two, all chatty, and a young couple behind them. Work, indeed. |
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