Logs:Your Word
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| RL Date: 8 February, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alida is at the Hold to guard the Lord. R'hin is at the Hold to find her and do a deal. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 14, Month 13, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Riorde/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Dilan/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Nimae/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions |
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Isolated on its westward-jutting peninsula, from the landward side High Reaches Hold appears burrowed deep into the mountain, with only a few shuttered windows overlooking the rows of cotholds that line the river road. Its double courtyards appear designed more for transportation or defense than for welcoming visitors. From the seaward side, the slant of the windows overlooking the fine deep bay attempts to ward off the sea winds, the higher stories evading the less pleasant odors prevalent at low tide. However cold and bleak the Hold's setting may be, inside, its colors of dark blue and tan act as neutrals for the warmer, brighter hues of its llama-wool tapestries and rugs. Below the Hold, oval caverns house lengths of seasoned wood for its shipbuilders, and to its outskirts are several minor Crafthalls including a glass-smith's shop. Though the Hold's main access is by sea, the river road leads to its Weyr and the rest of Pern, while minor roads lead to a few outlying Holds and the distant lighthouse. The snowfall is light and intermittent throughout the day until it tapers off completely into a frigid night. The ground is damp, though very little sticks. Glacier and the Hold...two independent 'units' with a history together. It's hardly surprising that Lord Devaki asked for that particular Wing of riders to aid him in bolstering his home's contingent of able-bodied guardians. Today is the second day after the murder of Issedi that Glacier's rather obvious presence is felt at key points in the Hold...and that a certain bluerider is stationed down the hallway that leads towards Lord Devaki's personal rooms. Like a dedicated little wind-up killer, the blonde makes rounds along her station, inspecting not only places, but people - even the Hold guards - with cool eyes and a neutral, alert expression. The Lord hasn't been seen in public since the event, though the after effects are felt. The Hold's presence of guards, normally taking a more subtle role, are felt in full, with pairs of them roaming in and around the Hold itself. Given Glacier's current assignment, it's no surprise that it's to the Hold that R'hin comes, the rider dressed, perhaps surprisingly given his proclivities, in riding leathers -- perhaps to make the Hold's residents feel safer about his presence. There's a quick exchange of words with S'trun in the great hall, before the bronzerider makes his way in the direction of the Lord's personal rooms, getting no small few narrow-eyed looks from the guards themselves, let alone the bluerider herself, as he fronts up towards her deliberately, making no secret of his destination. It's not the time or place for sneaking around, and while Alida well-recognizes R'hin, many here do not. With the tensing of the Hold guard comes the pale-blonde's low and partially-hidden hand signs to the lieutenant just beyond her in the hallway...which allows him, and soon enough his fellow Hold guards to relax. Some. With a bob of her head to her compatriot-in-Guarding, the woman strides in measured pace to meet R'hin halfway, pulling up if and when he does. Very softly, almost whispered, is her alto "What brings ya?" Oh, he's aware, well aware of the tense demeanor and the looks he's getting; R'hin actually seems to enjoy the attention, for once. "Rider stuff. You understand," towards the guards; when she meets him, he stretches out an arm as if to guide her along in his step, further away from those other guards. "Just in the area, you know," he's chuckling under his breath. "Got a moment? I'm sure they," without a look over his shoulder, "Have it well in hand." "We'll let you know if we need you, ma'am..." the lieutenant notes in crisp fashion to Alida, the two nodding almost imperceptibly at each other before the bluerider steps off with R'hin for some privacy, his ushering hand near her back allowed, though any touch is not. Ma'am, is it? "As long as the minute doesn't stretch inta' a half hour..." 'lida murmurs with dark, spare humor. The bronzerider certainly seems to know her well enough not to dare, his hand hovering there as they step away from the guards. "Is a whole half hour in my presence so painful... without alcohol?" R'hin's laughing, though it's low, perhaps enough so to avoid any odd looks at humor in such a somber scenario. There's a small nook further down the hall, out of sight, and he guides them there, taking a seat on the bench. "Heard what happened," of course. "You know... the Lord probably owes you a favor, now?" "I learned ta deal with pains-in-my ass sans alcohol a long time ago, ol' man..." Alida mumbles with continued, faint humor, her head shaking oh-so-very faintly...lips quirking into a ghost-smirk. Off the two riders step in measured fashion towards that bench, Alida settling only partially onto the surface. Must be ready to spring into action at a moment's notice, after all. Green eyes sweep the hallway out of more-than habit at this point, and only once come to rest upon R'hin...trying to ferret out his expression, what might be in his eyes when he speaks again. Blink. "And?" R'hin, for his part, looks far more at ease, even if pale eyes by habit flick towards the entrance, keeping account of anyone who might happen by. "And it behooves us," the bronzerider pauses, grimacing oddly, then goes on, "I doubt they'd let anyone question the assailant after last time." Undoubtedly he's referring to the weyrlings' questioning of the pirates. "But he might just let you." "Us." Flatly stated. "They Weyr-at-large?" is inquired just as business-like, those meciless greens moving from hallway to R'hin again. "You know he'd ask me *why* I'd wanna question 'im..." Alida murmurs without moving her lips very much. There's a little flick of his wrist, as if to say, of course, to her question. "And the answer would be obvious. You've just as much motivation to find whose behind this as he does. Stability." There's a faint quirk of the woman's head for R'hin's response, Alida knowing the man is very very good at not letting anything telltale show in his eyes or expression, though she does keep searching...until duty prods her to focus on the hallway once again. For a long and silent set of moments, there's no answer, nothing at all from the bluerider, except the steady and measured cadence of her breathing. Then, almost so low as to be unhearable, "I gotta' feelin' 'stability' ain't the only reason." Prove her wrong. There's a knowing sort of smile, like R'hin's well aware of her searching gaze, waiting it out. "Of course not," he replies, leaning slightly towards her, voice soft: "If the purported motivation is true -- that he was after exiles, that puts weyrfolk in danger, too. Riders." A beat. "Madilla's boy. That it helps him is a beneficial side effect. If it turns out there's some other motivation, well... we've less to worry about." And to R'hin's smile, his response comes a wintry little smirk - not at all amused, touched with ample hints of mistrust and jaded bitterness beyond her Turns - Alida staring into those pale eyes of his until it might feel like her gaze are twin lasers, seeking to bore into his very essence. "Mhm..." is noted with serious candor, her focus moving again to the hallway, her rear shifted just a little to relieve a growing dullness of sensation. R'hin is probably used to such mistrustful looks, and doesn't seem overly unsettled by it. He's silent, patient, for a while. For long enough. "Riorde," as if it just occurs to him, "She's not on rotation here, is she? I'll mention it to Taikrin, just -- in case. She ought to have someone with her." "Nope..." Alida confirms to the bronzerider. "Taikrin didn' want 'er put into a potentially bad situation." The subtly wrinkled nose and roll of eyes from the blonde might inform R'hin just how Riorde took the order. "Unless things changed since I've been here t'day, she's got no guard but Sforzath on 'er." R'hin gives an easy nod, and yet the intentness of his gaze suggests the Savannah rider will be following that up, later. "I've set someone to watching the boy. But the sooner we know for sure, the better. Especially if we have a clutch coming up." "Doubt if Nimae'd fer'give 'Reaches fer indirectly killin' another goldrider..." Alida murmurs near-liplessly, in case any Hold folk might be looking or listening in. Eyeroll. A snick of greens over to R'hin from their corners is followed by a pause, then a low sigh as the woman straightens her back enough to make a few vertebrae softly click. "How's the mood back home?" "Doubtless," R'hin's near-soundless laughter is perhaps more felt than heard, though expressed clearly enough in the glittering amusement of pale eyes. It fades after moments at her latter question, though, turning serious. "Nervous. Uncertain. As you would expect." A beat. "You might see some of me or mine here and there. Appreciate it if you'd vouch for us, not let it be known we're weyrfolk. I'd like to get a sense of some of the mood here, too." There's - again - not much to give away anything from Alida besides a couple of nods as she digests what R'hin has to say, the woman rising to her feet, and giving languid, almost cat-like stretches. With her back to the hall, facing the bronzerider fully, she can fully enunciate the soft words that finally find utterance between them. "That's a bigger security risk, and you know it, R'hin." Beat, stare. "How can I vouch fer people - even riders - I don' know diddly-squat about?" She'd be a *very* poor 'guest' of the Lord's if she simply caved, after all. There's a little grin, pale gaze rising to follow Alida, though R'hin himself remains seated, spreading his hands as if to appear harmless. "You know me, and I vouch for my riders. Fuck, you've played with darts with just about all of 'em by now. Think any of them have any secret plots against the Holds in their heads?" A beat, "If anything, we're the least likely to, given most of my riders are Monaco-based." The look Alida turns back upon R'hin after she finishes her last stretch is candid in its frank mistrustfulness. "We...Glacier... *I* came here at Devaki's request, and by K'del 'n Azaylia's leave, uv' course." Whisper. "This ain't just *me*, R'hin. This is my *professional reputation*. My *word*." And those, to the bluerider, mean a hell of a lot. "Darts don't mean enough. Smiles an' shared shennanigans don't, either." Pause. "Gimme yer solemn word... yer *vow* - on the life uv yer daughters, on the shell uv yer lifemate - that there's no plots fer ill against Devaki 'r the Hold from anyone in Savannah." The look on the woman's face is set, cold, solid...waiting. R'hin stands, takes a step towards her, fixes gaze on her. "On Leiventh's shell, you've my word." The Savannah Wingleader gives it, without hesitation or hemming, nothing of lightheartedness or his usual amusement visible in pale, intent gaze. For a moment - fleeting but there - there's hesitation in Alida's green eyes, and then it's replaced by an implacable look. Do *not* disappoint her in this. Do NOT. And then the bluerider's squared shoulders loosen a bit, to be followed by her firm, if quiet, "Choose 4 uv yer best...4 uv the ones I've come ta' know better 'n the others." R'hin should know which Savannah riders those are, given not only his own experience with them, but by just how they've 'rubbed' the touchy blonde...right or wrong way. "Four." R'hin wouldn't be R'hin if he didn't respond, with a far more familiar, charming grin, "Six." She must have known what he'd request in counter offer to her 'four.' There's still a faint furrow of Alida's brow - as if R'hin has troubled her, perhaps slightly insulted her - plus some time for 'irked' consideration before she mutters a grudging, "Five. *And* I get ta know exactly which one..s 'r 'on duty' each day...from yer own mouth." Stare. With a long sigh, as if he's making a great sacrifice: "I suppose I can't really blame you for wanting to spend so much time in my company," R'hin's saying, with a low-throated laugh. His brows rise, as he lifts his palm towards hers in offer. "Yer full uh shit, ol' man," is the only way Alida allows herself to reply, small sarcasm, dark humor, and leftover sprinkles of mistrust tinging her words. Even as their palms meet, the bluie leans in a little, murmurs a quiet "Yer *word*, R'hin," while grasping his hand in what might be a near-deathlock...if it wasn't for her restraint. It's highly doubtful that the bluerider is the first to doubt either his word, or attempt to out-do him in the handshake department; R'hin takes both in stride, to his credit, not seeking to fight her tight grip, but if anything grinning all the more, wordlessly. "Speak it...or it's all off," the bluerider continues quietly, as if nothing much is transpiring between herself and the Wingleader...but that hand - and Alida's cold green eyes - continue to remain locked to R'hin. "I gave it to you already," R'hin says, easily. "Saying it three times fast while looking in a mirror won't make it any more, or less, true." And while his tone is light, pale eyes remain intent, on hers. For a split-second, it appears as though Alida might just crush R'hin's hand in her own, an abortive convulsion of her grasp at his felt...then disappearing quickly as she withdraws her grasp. As she nods, turns away to step back out down the hallway and back to her watch, there's an almost sibilant, husky, "*Don't* betray the fraction uv' trust I'm givin' you." Whatever snippets of emotion are contained within 'lida's voice are garbled, and remain untouchable as she sweeps down the hall like a self-contained force of nature...treading an edge she loathes, and recognizes all too well. "Yes, ma'am," comes the jaunty, humored response from R'hin, the shaking of his head after she releases done obviously and visibly, with a grin. If he's aware of the emotional state of the bluerider, it's masked in the even gaze he sweeps after her, before he departs down the hall, in the other direction. |
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