Logs:To Enjoying Life
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| RL Date: 13 January, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and Z'ian talk the logistics of making off with furniture and losing their money. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 10, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy Rainy |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions |
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| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ) The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern. The bad weather outside has done a good job driving everyone indoors this evening. Pouring rain pounds down on the patio beyond the entrance, wet riders and residents alike slinking into the bar with droplets of water dripping off of them and forming slick spots on the floor. Z'ian was previously one of those damp people, but he's significantly more dried off now. He's across the Snowasis, losing badly at a game of darts. The bronzerider throws his last one and it misses the board completely, glancing off the edge and bouncing helplessly away on the ground. With a despairing groan he chases after and returns it to the owner of the set. He hands over the marks that he bet on himself winning and retreats, ducking into one of the few free booths in the establishment. The heckles of the other man he was playing against follow him to his seat. Significantly less dried off - in fact, significantly wet - is K'del, whose arrival is heralded by a new puddle upon the floor near the entrance, albeit one he's visibly apologetic about. He hangs his jacket up at one of the hooks near the door, and runs his fingers through his hair to clear away some of the excess damp; even so, he's still less-than-dry as he makes his way to the bar to get himself a drink. It's with that drink in hand that he begins to wander, aimlessly at first, through the bar; when he catches sight of Z'ian, however, there's a hitch in his step, and, a moment later, he alters his course to move that way. "Z'ian," he says. "I-- been meaning to apologise to you. The whole transfer thing." Hi. He hasn't yet made it to the point where he flags down one of the girls for a drink or another drink rather, he's probably already had at least one since he walked in the door. Insted Z'ian has taken to counting the remaining marks in his possession, shaking his head. It's likely he's undergoing some sort of silent tongue lashing for losing his own money. At least he's being quiet about it, polite of him. He doesn't notice K'del until he's practically right there and talking, catching him by surprise. Quickly, he tucks the rest of the coins away into his pockets and waves a hand at the empty seat across from him. "Hey, no, it's not necessary. Really." His hand goes from waving and inviting to staying, as in staying anymore apologies from the other rider. "Jarring for us but not end of the world. How're you holding up?" K'del accepts the offered seat with a silent nod, and slides in to the booth across from the other bronzerider. "Even so," he says, firmly bypassing the staying of his apology, "It's not what I intended to happen. Didn't think that my needing a change would-- well. Avalanche isn't so bad, though. Hope you'll settle in there, find a place for yourself." His drink gets set down in front of him, the steaming mug considered for a moment before he allows himself the relatively cautious answer of: "Doing okay. Can't complain, not really." And the bruises rumour says he was sporting have all disappeared, so that's also good. Z'ian does give the other rider's face a once over for sight of the rumored bruises. But the relative lack of them has him quickly returning to a steady eye contact with him instead. "Necessitate the juggling around of other people? Well. Shit happens, so they tell me." He flashes K'del a good natured, half smile for that and he leans partway out of the booth to flag down a serving girl to give her a few marks and ask for a drink. "It's been fine. H'kon even invited me to the secret club meetings. He says it's exercise, but I know better." He serves his booth mate a 'knowing' look. He knows that K'del knows, that he knows what's really what. Or something. "Hey, good for you. A day that I can wake up without any serious complaints is a good one." "Guess it just goes to show how awesome we bronzeriders are. Got to spread us out, right?" K'del's clearly only joking about that, even if his smile isn't quite as wide as it could be: he's a little reserved. No doubt he does know what's really what, but his answer is not especially informative. "H'kon-- is a strange one." For a moment or two, it may seem that that is all K'del is going to say on the subject of the brownrider, but then he adds, "Spent ten odd turns in the same wing as him, and it still seems like I know next to nothing about him. Sisha's a good Wingleader, though, and for the most part-- good wing." Now, finally, he reaches for his drink, blowing on the surface before he takes a sip. "That's the theory, anyway. No serious complaints, good day, all that. You? No real complaints?" Beat. "Aside from the marks thing, maybe." "Yeah, we're pretty much the best riders in the weyr." It's not serious boasting, but Z'ian does it with a nonchalant roll of his shoulders anyway. His ordered drink arrives, slid over to him by the serving girl. He wraps his fingers around the glass and glances up at K'del before taking his first quick sip. "I picked up on that. He doesn't seem like he's a bad sort to have around, not everyone can be completely normal anyway. What fun would that be?" That's his final observation on the brownrider before he shifts to a slightly more attentive form of listening, laughing at the bronzerider's last. "Aside from the marks? I should have known better. I have no aim whatsoever, one day I'll learn." Shrugging he follows with, "I haven't hit that part of my life where I've got arthritis and shrieking back pain yet so yeah, no real complaints. Come back and ask me in a couple of turns though, I might have a different answer." K'del lifts his mug in reply to that boast, smiling with amusement. For H'kon, he can only laugh and shake his head, apparently with wry agreement, though he doesn't make any further remark on the subject. Instead, "We're getting old enough as it is," says he, the youngest of the two bronzeriders by a whole four turns. "Or so it feels, sometimes. Where do the turns go? But--" He breaks off, glancing at his mug, then back up at the other bronzerider. "Ought to focus on something like dice or cards, if you can't manage a dart board. Not," he hastily adds, "that I'm much better at throwing things. And not that I'm much better at any other bar games, granted, even if Val has taught me some things. Guess it was useful, when I was Weyrleader. Losing. Less so, now. Fewer marks to lose." Z'ian takes a longer swallow from his glass, running a finger along the top edge. "I don't know, I'm at the point where I think I'm done worrying about it. My new goal in life is to groom myself into being a distinguished older rider. In appearance only. You know, for when the young impressionable girls in their late teens and early twenties come around for clutches." It's another one of those faux knowing looks. He laughs again. "I'm joking. Half joking. Quarter joking. I'm only partially lecherous and awful. As for cards, I'm bad at them too. Bar games. I don't know how people play at them semi-professionally without ending up homeless and destitute." The bronzerider is shaking his head, half amused as he takes another drink. "Yeah, the regular rider's salary. It won't make you rich. But you'll be able to occasionally buy things." This K'del, the new one, the one who isn't Weyrleader and thus doesn't need to live up to those higher standards, chortles in amusement at Z'ian's idea. "You're a bronzerider," he points out. "It's half expected. unless you end up in a leadership position, in which case everyone disapproves of everything you do that isn't completely straight and narrow." Bitter? It's possible, but he's still smiling, so perhaps not. "Mm. Spent quite a bit of my savings setting up my new Weyr - it seemed important. Now... pretty much back to being as not-rich as everyone else. But on the plus side, I have more time to spend it in." "Leadership position? No thanks. My other goal is to avoid responsibility as long as I can, I've flown unnoticed so far. What's another couple of decades?" Z'ian questions, shrugging his shoulders and flashing an easy smile. He downs another significant portion of his drink, draining it to nearly the bottom of the glass. Eyeballing K'del a bit more intently, "I guess they don't let you keep the furniture when you move out? Though I don't know who would stop you if you tried. If you want anything out of there, I'll help you." It's conspiratorial and half-serious, mostly in that he probably doesn't actually think he would want to do that. "When you're not so busy experiencing being broke and having more free time, we should hit that bar outside of the hold. I hear the owner experienced a real financial windfall, his mother or grandmother died and he used the inheritance to build on a game room. We'll go be crappy at bar games." K'del's smirk turns into something broader, and then dissolves into outright laughter. "Smart man," he says, at least half approving. "Guess I could have tried to take some of it out, but..." That's a shadow over his expression, erasing some of the mirth, probably because he's remembering things; he shrugs. "Better off with new stuff. The old wasn't so great." Phew. Z'ian is off the hook: no breaking-and-entering required. Crappy and bar games? That is another story because, "That sounds like excellent fun. Just don't let me start another barfight, hey? Maybe they'll leave me alone." Or maybe not, because his shrug, this time, seems to suggest he doesn't mind either way. He finishes his drink, setting down the mug with a contented sigh. "I don't think that they would have checked to see what you had. But... exactly." He's joking round, really. But Z'ian gets why he wouldn't want to go and take things from the old weyr. So that particular topic of conversation is allowed to fall naturally to the wayside. Draining the rest of the glass, he sets it down on the table top and rolls the bottom against the wood. His infectious grin is back and he laughs, tipping his head back. "Look, if they don't leave you alone? At least this time you'll have company. And I swear on someone else's mother's grave that whatever happens, however it starts... I'll say it was the other guy. Together we could probably come up with at least a halfway decent story." While he doesn't look like any kind of a bar brawler, he at least looks big enough to not get trampled and left under a table for K'del to have to drag out later when it's all over. "Who would have done the checking, even," says K'del, thoughtfully. "The Headwoman's staff, maybe, but--" His shrug is loose and easy; it doesn't matter, now, and even if it did... too bad. The rest of Z'ian's words make the younger bronzerider straighten, pleased and amused. "You're on," he says. "Reckon, between us, we'll do just fine." His gaze falls upon Z'ian's empty glass, and then on his own. "Want another? My shout, since I forced your transfer. Pretty sure I'm good for it, new furniture or no." Z'ian purses his lips, pulling them to the side thoughtfully. "It probably depends on how important that furniture is to them ultimately. I can't imagine..." That anyone would track K'del down and demand for it back? Would really checklist off the items that remain? Who knows, could be all of the above. He releases that expression of concern and slips back into the more natural, easily amused smirk. "We'll be the dynamic fucking duo. And sure. One more won't stop me from staggering back to Tsanth in one piece. When we go down to the bar, I'll get our first round." "What would they even do to me, even if they did figure it out?" K'del dismisses this idea with another grin, his head shaking. "Reckon I could've taken as much as I wanted. But - no." Beat. "Well. Would've taken the bath if I could, but there's some water in my new weyr, so it's not so bad. Winter, though." Brr. His nod approves of the other man's latter statement, and his arm lifts to encourage the barmaid in their direction. His mark situation must be a little exaggerated: he's definitely got plenty for drinks, and probably more. When their new drinks arrive, he's got another toast to offer: "To enjoying life." "I guess they could try and take it back. But if I were in the same situation, I'd make it as difficult as possible. Lay on the couch. Sit at the table and eat breakfast as they tried to move things." Z'ian jokes, glancing towards the barmaid when K'del signals to her. He slides his glass closer towards the edge of the table. "You'll learn to dress in layers again while you sleep. The cold isn't so bad. Makes you appreciate the heat in the summer." When the old is cleared away for the new, he takes his drink and lifts it up. "To making the best out of it." Tsanth's rider will hang around. At least until the rain stops pounding down onto the ground outside but in the meantime, he'll continue along with light, humor filled banter. All in all: a very pleasant evening. Indeed. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Mon, 14 Jan 2013 09:30:11 GMT.
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Aw! Bonding Bronzer Boys. x3 Does a heart good.
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