Logs:Who Are You
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| RL Date: 30 January, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin's chilling in the greenhouse. Alida has questions. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 12, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Priya/Mentions |
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A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath. It's been a cool day, though thankfully the snowfall of the past few days has passed on, leaving behind a muddy bowl. It's probably no surprise that the warmer places of the Weyr act as a beacon, the hatching caverns a popular spot -- but undoubtedly a little too crowded for R'hin, since the bronzerider's retreated to the quieter reclusiveness of the greenhouse. He's seated, cross-legged, on the ground near one of the benches, and the reason he's not sitting on the bench is immediately obvious: there's a woman there, dressed in riding leathers (though her jacket is draped over the space next to her), gulping from a bottle. They're talking in low, quiet tones, a hint of irritation audible in the woman's, if not R'hin's voice. After her sort-of close call with winter's anger a couple of days ago, Alida is still looking for a way to suck in all the warmth she can while staying in-Weyr. Like R'hin, she blonde shuns the 'Grounds as too populated and *too* hot, her own next choice the greenhouse. When the long-trenchcoat wearing woman in the knitted touke enters, hears and sees the conversation taking place, she almost turns around and departs for less-frequented climes (wherever those are)...but suddenly there's a golden pest to deal with, Pyrite zipping into the place above her mistress' head, and cheeping brightly at the rich warmth that surrounds her. Damn it. The Glacier rider's retreat might well have gone unnoticed, except for that interruption. It's the cheeping that draws attention, the seated woman shifting a boot to nudge at R'hin and a subtle nod drawing his gaze in the bluerider's direction. It's only a quick glance for the bronzerider, once he recognizes her: he uses the distraction to claim the bottle back from the woman, giving a low-throated laugh at her protest, and a none-too-subtle wave off, "Ought to be about time for you to go, anyway," he can be saying in easy, audible tones, to the narrow-eyed gaze of his companion. She snatches up her flight jacket, and with a sharp eyed look (that the bronzerider seems used to), stalks off for the entrance, giving Alida a bare going over with her gaze as she passes by. She'd rather be alone...but since she's been noticed, reacted to, Alida pulls up her figurative boots, and slowly steps deeper into the greenhouse, her features only a fraction pinched about the mouth, green eyes alert, but modest for the pair's sake. While Pyrite goes snooping about - the flit treated to a low "No touching..." as she departs the bluie's immediate company - her human soon finds herself giving an almost-bland, long look to the other woman who's departing, one of her pale brows arching just slightly. Once said femme is truly well-departed, the meandering bluerider notes quietly aside to R'hin, "Think I pissed off yer girlfriend." She doesn't turn to face him, nor does she sound enthused about chatting it up. Casually unfolding his legs, stretching them out half underneath the bench, R'hin places a balancing hand out behind him, the other keeping an easy grip on the bottle. "Nah," he's chuckling, after a generous gulp, "She's always like that. Don't take it personally." Because Alida's not looking at him, she might miss the offering of the bottle in her direction, though the slosh of liquid as he does so is audible. "One uv' yers?" the blonde intones of the departed woman after hearing that telltale slosh, one of her hands reaching back carefully for that proffered bottle, finally intercepting it after a bit of motion, taking it from R'hin. "Thanks..." is lipped off low, the lip of it given a cursory swipe on her coat's wrist before it's lifted to lips for a slow, deep draught. "Can't be bothered to..." she finally addends, eyes moving around to note the rich foliage that Bones often attends to, her firelizard a little gold jewel that graces the greenery with her curiosity and whirling blue gaze. R'hin gives a shrug of shoulders, a non committal answer to her question. He doesn't hold the bottle too high, so she probably has to bend to grab it from him. The liquid is dark, a hint of spice to it, and pale eyes watch her, resulting in a low-throated laugh when she wipes the lip of it. His brows go upward briefly at her unfinished sentence: "...get a glass? I didn't think you were that cultured, Alida," he says, in a tone that might be intended to be antagonistic. The taste of the booze is a curiosity to her, the aroma wafting over pallate and nose, the burn of it warming her esophagus and belly even as another, more testing sip is taken. "What is it?" Alida's alto inquires, the bottle given a faint waggle while R'hin chuckles at her habit. If he intends on aggravating her, he'll have to do better, the blonde finally pivoting about to face the bronzerider...and offering him a long, low belch post 'cultured.' "There; feel better?" she facetiously inquires before taking yet another slow, deep sip. Maybe that's her 'punishment' of him: depleting his precious stock. "Uh-uh," R'hin clucks his tongue, even if he's laughing. "Not sharing -- I know that look. With the purported shortage, I'm not giving away any hints to the good stuff, even if it's the name. You might snatch up the last bottles before me," he says, with a wiggle of finger. "And, don't shake it. You'll make all the vintners on Pern clutch at their chests in some sort of pseudo sympathetic pain," or whatever. It's the careless manner in which she gulps it down that makes him reach for the bottle again. "There's a phrase about gifts and... such," he half-growls. "You share a little, maybe *I'll* share a little..." Alida ripostes with a hint of asperity and snark mixed, her mouth forming a slender, wicked little smirk-smile when R'hin reacts badly to her 'mauling' of his wine. In droll fashion: "It ain't nice ta' fool with a bluerider..." Is it? Zing. The bottle is held just out of his reach, then tipped up to her lips once again for another - if more 'cultured' pull. Ahhh. "You've already had more than a little," R'hin points out, and when she speaks, his head tips. "Fool with a bluerider? I'm hardly doing that, though--" a hint of dark laughter, brief, before his hand drops as she keeps firm hold of the bottle, "I've learned my lesson about sharing with one again." "Y' *can't* know uv' every bar, every inn that serves good fare on both continents..." Alida redirects her conversational companion, her eyes finally laughing a little behind her smirk as she brings herself and that bottle over to the bench, settling her rump on it. Memory of that odd evening they spent drunk on some beach down south finally forces the bluie's mood towards something less snarky, her expression darkening some as she finally quits teasing the bronzer, hands him back his bottle. With perhaps unexpected candor, green eyes flick to and hold greys while the woman murmurs, "I only remember parts uv it...mostly from 'caeth." There's a question in her eyes, but - at least for now - it goes unvoiced. The knowing sort of smile from R'hin suggests otherwise. "I've had a good twenty-seven Turns of combing bars -- more, if you count the time before Leiventh." Which the bronzerider generally doesn't, but in this case probably applies. While his gaze follows Alida's settling down onto the bench, he isn't aware of what causes her shift in mood, and his expression remains even as he takes the bottle back, setting it by his side rather than immediately imbibing. "Parts of what?" "Spoil sport..." the woman finally sighs out dramatically, wrinkling her nose up at R'hin, then looking back to that bottle she surrendured perhaps too quickly. With the change in topics and mood, however, comes her full attention once more, Alida twisting her mouth a little, then muttering to the bronzerider, "I hope yer not pullin' any bullshit with me." Stare. It takes her a few moments to don enough inner swagger to keep her eyes locked to his when she next speaks, but it does finally come out, if quietly. "When we were both South... You were drinkin'; I followed you, drank with ya...on that beach." "No... just old enough to appreciate drink that might just be older than me," R'hin says, with a certain amount of humor, but genuine sentiment for all that. While she stares, he chuckles, as much at her sudden intensity as anything. His brows flicker up, as if she's not telling him anything he doesn't already know, and yet. "Mm?" a prompt, maybe. "What; do I have ta' pay *you* fer some uv' the really good stuff?" Alida notes with a hint of testiness to R'hin. "I like gettin' my goods direct." She just knows he'd demand a fee for acting as go-between. Glare. "I think yer fuckin' with me..." the bluerider notes in somewhat growly fashion, her gaze firing with more heat, which inspires her to stand stiffly, Turns of practice with her fiery temper making the 'former' guard finally able to stare more flatly down at the man. "I don't like mental bullshit games." "Might've passed it on for free, before the shortage. Now, though," R'hin's grinning, spreading his hands, as if it say, it's business. "I could point you in the right direction, for the right price." When she stands, his neck crooks for a moment to stare at her, before he gives it up for being too uncomfortable, instead taking an easy gulp from the bottle, not bothering to wipe it first like she did. "I'm fucking with you?" he echoes her, a little incredulously. "You're the one being all," his fingers waggle for a moment, before he says, "Stare-y," while there is a note of genuine bemusement to his voice, it doesn't seem overly teasing. "Ain't worth the extra..." Alida finally notes dourly, adding a hard little shrug on to the end of her words. Damned if she'll spend more on a 'finder's fee.' With R'hin's next actions, words comes the bluie's sudden swooping-dip down to his level - the woman nearly settling down upon one knee - her face getting up in the bronzerider's grille as she grumbles intensely, "Did we sleep t'gether?" Her eyes are locked to his from about only a foot away, staring angrily. "Guess you'll have to settle for dealing with my brimming personality and handsome features, if you want more of this, then," R'hin concludes, with another lift of the bottle to his lips. Alida's sudden movement, while a surprise, doesn't stir the bronzerider to movement -- other than to shift his gaze, consideringly, towards hers. The question earns an immediate reaction, a low-throated chuckle, as if he suddenly understands her behavior, now. "Ah," he breathes, before he tips his head, pale eyes glittering with amusement. "Why? You worried about it being a yes? Or a no?" "Either that, 'r I'll just get fuckin' tired uv yer bullshit an' beat it outta' ya..." Eyeroll. At this point, however - from her perch up in his face - Alida's finally firing off a grumbly, "Asshole..." and continuing to stare the man down. "*I* like ta know who I've been intimate with." Especially if she can't remember. While she offers a beating, he has a counter-offer, offering the bottle to her, instead: "You can take the guard out of the Hold, but you can never take the default response out of the guard," R'hin says, with a low-throated chuckle. Well, he may be chuckling, but he is offering her alcohol at the same time, presumably to assuage her anger. "I'd like to think I'd be remembered if we'd fucked. I am quite good at it, you know." If he seems intimidated by her stare, it doesn't show in his light-hearted expression. Well, she'll take what she can get, so - along with R'hin's quip about her tactics - comes Alida's nab of that wine bottle, and a *civilized* sipping from its contents. She still has said bottle secured near her person even when the bronzer is responding to her direct inquiry...indirectly. "You c'n think whatever you wanna'; but *I* want a direct answer. Yes, or No, R'hin?" There's a little less anger in that gaze now - though still some - and somewhat more conflict, tiredness. "Better," R'hin's approving of her treatment of the bottle, this time. Perhaps it's that her anger fades, or maybe that he's taking pity on her, now, but -- after a brief twist of lips, he answers, "I left you in Ilicaeth's care. You might've had a visitor after I left, but it certainly wasn't me. And," with a lift of hand, that might just be indicating his desire for the bottle, "If it bothers you that much to not know, I'd suggest you watch your intake, in future." There's a soft snerk for that 'better,' but Alida remains 'kind' to that bottle, sipping more, then handing it back over to its owner...which is good, given the last of what R'hin has to say. "I c'n handle myself just fine..." her icy response oozes in chill fashion, the blonde glaring icicle daggers into grey eyes, and slowly, stiffly stepping back and up from the man. "Nobody was there after you left; Ilicaeth was curled up around me all night." Her 'assurance' is hard, cold, flat, addended to with a low, "You enjoy bein' a typical bronzer, apparently..." His dragon's color gains a low lilt of disgust to emphasize the word, though - were he able to ken her feelings - there's not a hint of rancor towards Leiventh there. If anything, R'hin seems grateful that she actually returns the bottle, setting it by his side for a moment, gaze following Alida as she stands. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger," his hands lift, defensively, though it's threaded through with a lightness of voice, at ease as he adds: "I'm not ashamed of who I am, whether that's typical or not, though," his lips twist, "I'd have imagined your typical bronzerider wouldn't have walked away." As if her version of typical and his might well be different. "And just *who* are you?" Alida inquires with pointed heat, the woman containing her anger inside, her voice still cold, hard, though she nearly whispers the question. "Who and what is R'hin, beyond what he deigns ta show everyday?" At least she's not storming away, giving the man a chance to 'defend' himself from her 'charge.' "I'm just a man," R'hin says, with a modest (and perhaps overplayed) casual grin. "Who happens to have a dragon." If he's on 'trial', he looks fairly at ease about it. Stare. "Yeah... and that's all *I* am: A woman, who happens ta have a dragon." There's ample hints of disparagement - maybe even self-so - in her alto, and the bluerider finds herself suddenly shaking her head, and looking up and out beyond them. In a heartbeat, Pyrite's fluttering back towards her human - a faint dust of pollen, perhaps annointing her headknobs - following Alida as the blonde pivots about, steps away from R'hin towards the door. Her response earns a low-throated chuckle from R'hin: agreeing, or perhaps, acknowledging. He doesn't try and stop her; as she walks away, there's the sound of liquid sloshing in the bottle, like he's toasting her departure with a drink. |
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