Logs:What Will Ista Do During the Interval?
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| RL Date: 17 May, 2008 |
| Who: A'son, Caitlyn, N'thei |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| Where: The Rusted Hulk, Seacraft Hall |
| When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
| N'thei makes an entrance-- his caution gives him away, the care of his steps, the way he holds one hand out in front of him, the other arm leaning heavily on the shoulders of the pretty brunette that guides his path. They're both drunk. Just inside, with her giggling, he stops and stays until the swaying ceases, which involves flattening his palm on one of the rough posts and leaning like he means to push it over. "All right, I told you we'd make it." But the girl has fallen dead asleep in a chair, her arms folded across a table, light snores marking her breaths. Bemused, lost-looking, he watches this with his head cocked and a great frown coming to roost. "Well fuck." "Nah, unless 2 or possibly 3 counts as a lot," Caitlyn laughs easily. "You know...it seems as if I've been escorting weyrleaders around, lately, for a few drinks to relax them after some rough times. I guess this time it's *your* turn." Is that the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks beneath her tan? Nah. "I accept the compliment in the spirit which it was given." Blink. Oh my, look what the...druken woman dragged in. Her eyes flick up to N'thei's entrance on the arm of aforesaid wench - Cait's hand moving towards her forehead to rub at it a little before it drops to the tabletop again. "And there's *another*...no invitation, though." A wry, cautious, long-suffering tone. He shifts position again, apparently not able to be comfortable. A'son leans his elbows onto the table, creating a more intimate look to their conversation than perhaps really exists. "Oh yeah? My rough times have been suspiciously non-existant lately. But I suppose they can pop up at any point. Really. Even that whole... destroying part of Ista went over okay." Her comment about a drunken woman dragging someone in makes him arch his 'brows. He hmmms, twisting around to look at the entrance. N'thei is noted, not with any surprise before he turns back. "He'll likely spot us within the next five minutes, and that's if we stay silent." The chances of the girl waking up any time soon are slim-to-none, but it takes the better part of a minute just staring at her before N'thei decides this for sure. He draws in a breath, breaks his spell, and casts around the room for somewhere to collapse himself. Ah, perfect; A'son and whatever girl's there with him, the recognition for one and lack for the other writ all over his perfectly readable expression. "My friend!" Yes, lovelies, you've been spotted, and he's half-pushing, half-dodging through tables to reach them. "I was thinking about the rough times you had when you first got there," Cait intones wryly, then reaching out suddenly and trying to pat A'son's arm. "Glad to hear you're settling in more smoothly." Sip-sip. "How's uh...politics?" Said to him in a hush-hush manner as she inclines a little farther forward. Just as A'son says that of the Reachian bronzer, Cait chimes in with, "Guess we could try to sneak out bef..." And then there's that near-bellow of recognition, which causes causes the woman to wince and sit back in her chair - sliding down just a smidgen as if she might try to hide. "He's *your* friend, right? Sorta..." The fiddling seacrafter woman starts up her ditties again just after N'thei's boom, and a few of the hearty seafolk stand up from their tales, laughter, and imbibing to take some time on the dancefloor. A'son turns back to Caitlyn in time to catch the hand as it pats his arm. He in turn puts his own hand on hers. "Politics are okay. Luckily no one wants to talk to me about them, so life is grand." He grins, which turns into a wince at N'thei's bellow. So much for that quiet drink. "Yeah, he belongs to me I guess." There's no ignoring the High Reaches leader now, especially since he's throwing himself through the crowds to get at them. "Hey, N'thei. You look great. Something in the water?" Like booze, perhaps? In case everyone has somehow missed it, N'thei arrives at the table with a decisive proclamation; "I am very drunk." Unslurred but cautious, so goes his speech. "But I'm glad to see you. Have something to ask you. --Water? No no no. Whiskey. Neat." He jumps from answering A'son to ordering from the waitress without missing a beat, his attention sliding across Caitlyn somewhere in the mix. "I'm interrupting, aren't I. Apologies. My lovely, apologies." He adds that last like Caitlyn needs a special apology on her own, Caitlyn gives a quick smile of gratitude to A'son, nodding a few times at him, and adding quickly before N'thei gets to their table, "Watch out. Ignored politics has a way of biting you on the ass sooner or later." And then the behemoth is here, and Cait's trying to smile some at his announcement while lifting her drink to her mouth. "Indeed you are," to N'thei. No 'sir' or 'weyrleader' this time around, since everyone's here to be as anonymous as possible. "Uhm...just relaxing, having a quiet drink." Hah, quiet! "Accepted," the apology partially waved aside in favor of trying to humor the sot. "Not interrupting anything, yet. I just got here." A'son says, withdrawing his hand from patting on Caitlyn's. "Yeah, that it does. But for now, ignorance is bliss." He leans back in the booth once again, pulling tight his 'Reaches jacket. "So, what did you need to ask me?" He asks, looking up at the looming, drunken giant and drinking from his own glass of hard liqour. "Yeah, we noticed you were drunk. Who's the girlfriend?" "What girl... oh." N'thei gets a look back around to his equally intoxicated arm-candy, looks woebegone while he answers, "She has a name." He just doesn't know it, not in his present state. He doesn't sit, but he pushes his hand against the edge of the table in a firm recognition of its solidarity. "Thread's over, brother, and fuck-all if I know what Reaches will do without it. --Again. Sorry. I get a bit foul-mouthed when I'm in my cups." Once more, especially for Caitlyn. "Were you two going to make out or something and I should piss off?" A sage nod for A'son, along with a shrug - 'tend to your ass' her eyes say - and then she's stretching her neck quite a bit to peer up-up at N'thei for a moment. "I think I should get another chair..." she mumbles as the Reachian balances on the tabletop - setting her many-layered drink upon it and slowly getting up to snag a leftover stool from the empty table just across from them. Another waving off of N'thei's apology as she quickly returns, scooting the chair towards him, "I don't care much, really. Not in a place like this, and not with my own mouth." A blink of surprise for N'thei's query, and Cait's grinning a little. "No, no smoochy face. Not unless he's pining away for me and never said anything." Her rough wryness indicates that, no, she doesn't believe that's likely. "You needed to ask me what High Reaches is going to do without thread? Perhaps become a group of drunken gambling addicts... oh wait." A'son taps his fingers on the tabletop. "I'm glad it's over. I'm not meant to be a Pass Weyrleader. By the way, you're foul-mouthed outside the cups too." He breaks his gaze from looking up at N'thei to staring down into his drink, then he's watching Caitlyn as she moves. "What? I thought that's what we were here for. Leading me on, /again/." He complains, shooting the Wingleader puppydog eyes. Deliberate; "You're not funny. We're not all drunk all the time." Present evidence aside. N'thei misses the whole point of Caitlyn getting a stool, so busy pushing his index finger against the table to make his /point/. "I don't want you to tell me what 'Reaches will do, that's not /your/ job. But what's Ista going to do." His glance goes from Weyrleader to Wingleader and back again, all brimmed with the question of the moment. "Far be it for me to get between a man and his play, but this is serious business, flirt later." A loud cough around her drink, and then Caitlyn snickers at her weyrleader's take on post-comet Pern, relaxing into her chair back as she watches N'thei keep on standing. "Just like me...I mean, I *can* be foul-mouthed without inebriation, if I want to." Another smile filled with humor is given to the other Istan, white and even teeth flashing momentarily. "Aww, you'll live, I'm sure. On the edge, of course." A little flutter of a hand over her heart, and she again imbibes a few times - winking over the rim of her glass at A'son. Twitch. Her suddenly unsmiling face is staring up at N'thei again, eyes rather serious. "We are *not* lovers, and *you* need to sit down." One hand seizes the chair's back, clattering the thing loudly enough to be heard over the din - the woman likely hoping to get the daft bronzer to NOTICE. "What are you talking about? I'm hysterical. As always. Sit down, you big lout. Or Caitlyn here is going to bang that chair around all night." A'son points out, bypassing being polite in favor of the more direct, if rude, approach. "Ista will... do what Ista does. Have parties on the beach and be a little lazy in the sun. Sort of what they do now, but without the thread. And without worrying that I'm going to get all the riders killed. Got any better suggestions?" He asks, eyebrows lifting before he adds. "Shhh, Caitlyn. Don't ruin the illusion." "/You./" N'thei hovers a heavy index finger in the space in front of Caitlyn's nose, suspends it there while whatever he was going to say leaves his head all but visibly. By the time he sits, like he'd intended to do it all along, he's forgotten he intended to say anything at all. "That's what you'll do? Parties on the beach?" He looks disappointedly between the two of them, slumps down in the seat heavily. "That's what they let you get away with." Accusation for Caitlyn, envy for A'son, woe. Caitlyn nods gravely at A'son's direct approach, then polishing off her drink in three more deep draughts. "Like he said," he being A'son, "...Ista will be herself. We got lucky...didn't have anywhere near as much 'fall as Reaches, Fort, and Telgar." A quick look to the man across the table from her, and those serious eyes are touched with empathy, compassion for A'son - which turns into a half-humored, half irritated swat of hand at his arm. "Knock it off. I don't like rumors...especially false ones." But wait, there's that big-ass finger stuck in her face, earning N'thei a little bit of a glower, and then a smirk as he forgets his diatribe. "Well, that's part of what we'll do, of course. I'm sure we'll keep up the damned drills and lessons so some fardling idiots won't forget when the next *real* Pass arrives." Acerbic, that. "Personally, I'll go back to having more time to craft my baubles and earn a few more marks. And have time to dig for pretty shinies." Grin. "They let me get away with destroying some gardens a few weeks ago. I mean, I guess that's what me and Nikoth will do. Destory all of Ista's landscape in our free time. Which we'll have more of now than before." A'son falls silent, staring down into his drink again before finishing it. "Ah, N'thei. Thanks for popping up and reminding me that life is pointless without thread. Now I can go back to Ista tonight and resume the whole being miserable thing." The other bronzerider is given a thumbs up. "In the meantime, Caitlyn won't even let me pretend to be her lover. So I suppose my life is going to be really boring now without those rumors." He motions one of the waiters over. "Refill? No. Make it one of those jug things. I think we're going to be at it awhile. So really. What are you planning on hoping to get away with back at home?" "Craft your baubles." N'thei scratches his forehead in an attitude of confusion at Caitlyn's plans, which at least distracts him from his abject misery. "Not-- it's not pointless, brother, just that it made a useful bargaining chip, neh? 'Best keep those tithes coming, lads, or watch your lands get eaten.' You folks could live without them for a while, the tithes, and not starve." For which he sounds frankly envious. "Why are you wrecking the scenery? --Why is he wrecking the scenery?" "So you *were* the one!" Cait jabs a finger at A'son. "I was trying NOT to listen to the rumors. Some people said it was Andy and Riuth, and others a bunch of rowdy weyrbrat hooligans." She looks torn between humor and still being irked. "Leave those gardens alone." Grump. A small glower again, this time for A'son. "We are NOT pointless." Faith and confidence saturate her tone. "And quit whining." Beat. "Yes, a refill of *my* stuff, please." To N'thei, a more concerned tone of voice. "I...I'll admit I'm a little worried about that. They got so brazen in such a short amount of time when the Pass ended." A quick look of eyes around, as if the crafters and holder folk might overhear her. "I wouldn't mind being self-sufficient. Ista has lush lands and seas to fish." A look at A'son, then back to N'thei. "Oh, Nikoth trampled the garden area. You saw it the first time you came to visit." Snork. "Riuth and Nikoth just wanted to catch some fish! They just.. happened to not be really fish but some slimey things on foot. A mistake anyone could have made." A'son says, frowning but smiling again when the jug of beer arrives. "Yeah, if we started fishing or something. But fish gets kind of old. I don't really know what we're going to do once they start getting brazen, like Caitlyn said. We don't exactly have the man power or the experience to start farming." N'thei, lost; "Fish. And baubles. And farming." No, he shakes his head with a newfound sense of purpose and pushes up from the chair that Caitlyn went to all the trouble to procure for him. "You two enjoy that beer, neh? Have one on me." Marks bounce on to the table heedlessly, so have eleven on him. "Well, they caught a shell of alot more than fish, didn't they?" Caitlyn smirks. "Whatever, just don't mess up the gardens again. They're a...a retreat, kind of a sanctum for enough folk." A look to both bronzers. "Well, what would *you* two suggest? I'm all upstanding and shit; all I know is how to earn marks from the craft I learned." Since nobody ordered another drink for her, she bellows out her own order when a barmaid passes nearby. The bluerider sounds a little irked. A'son inclines his head to the departing Weyrleader. "See you around, N'thei. Let me know if you /do/ have any suggestions." He casts his eyes back to Caitlyn. "I've got nothing right now. I'm just hoping it all doesn't go to hell right away. I don't know. Maybe we could start trading or something. Run a transport business. Who knows?" He smirks. "I promise we won't break the gardens again." N'thei casts a thumbs-up back to A'son, he'll get right on that (likely), and teeters his way out. Fresh air'll do him good! |
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