View source for Logs:Drinks and Accusations

{{Log
|involves=High Reaches Weyr
|type=Log
|who = Brieli, H'kon
| where = Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr 
| what = It's totally just a drink at the bar! ...Except H'kon's been accused of murder.
| when = Day 25, Month 3, Turn 30
|day=25
|month=3
|turn=30
|IP=Interval
|IP2=10
| gamedate = 2012.11.13
| quote = I saw good in him...
| weather = 
| categories = The Assassination of Iolene By The Coward I'kris
| mentions = I'kris
| ooc = 
| icons = 
| log = Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr

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.

----

It's not every day that someone's taken into custody for murder, and even fewer of those where the person in question is a dragonrider. It's also not every day that the dragons of the Weyr are released to sweet, sweet freedom to fly beyond. It makes for an awfully odd atmosphere in the Snowasis; a sort of conviviality with undercurrent of deep doubt - what ''should'' be done? What would they do? What will Monaco do? These questions surface in quiet conversations over tables, some of these less quiet when voices raise in argument. Maybe the cover of distracted noise is why Iesaryth, when the strong tides reach out to Arekoth, tells the brown that her rider is in the bar, and would he come by for a drink? No big deal, though there's a sense of apology for the situation; the lack of freedom for ''them''. Her rider has a booth to herself, with a glass in front of her, barely touched.

H'kon would never dream of being so impolite as to deny a clear invite such as that, especially that of a weyrwoman. So when he arrives some short while after Arekoth has answered Iesaryth with a rather presumptuous, << He drinks the good whiskey, >> that is surely snuck from H'kon's mind rather than provided, said brownrider tries to look at least somewhat pleased with the arrangement. He's recently bathed, beard trimmed, and not too much looking like one who's been brooding, but for those dark bags beneath his eyes. And when he spots Brieli and makes his way to her, he even tries a smile. Of course, it looks as painful as any smile he tends to give. But it's a try.

Iesaryth seems amused at the response, but pleased; these are things her rider would know, and it is certainly the least she can do to pass it along. So there's two glasses there when H'kon arrives and tries on that pathetic, painful smile. Brieli returns it with something closer to a smirk, and though she too has the marks of a lack of sleep on her face, she seems more energized than she's been in days. Like there'd finally been some decent rest. She nods to the seat across from her, the glass - and waits for the brownrider to sit. And this might be reason enough for the good whiskey; in low tones, "I need to ask a few questions. I hope you don't mind."

H'kon gives a quick look to the glass and chair, the only suggestion of uncertainty on his part before he sits. The chair is brought up to the table. The glass remains untouched, for now, his hands instead folded before him on the table. Brieli's words bring no raising of eyebrows, no shifting of posture but for a slight inclination of his head. "As you will, weyrwoman."

The youngest of the goldriders will have a quick sip from her own glass before continuing, her own expression unreadable. It takes a moment or two, but Brieli asks eventually, "Do you know anything about plants?" It's a odd question, but innocuous to start - though she's watching H'kon to see his reaction.

That does make his eyebrows lift a bit, but H'kon holds his response until he's planned out several avenues along which this might go. "Fisherman's knowledge: herbs for colds, that sort. And what was covered in weyrlinghood, of course - numbweed, fellis, but only so far as it pertains to dragons and their needs or limitations." The quick nod he gives at the end of his response has the formality of a 'ma'am,' for all it's not said.

Brieli doesn't seem all that surprised by that; it confirms something, by the way dark eyes narrow, her brisk nod. "I know you're not the sort of person to like much talking ''around'' things, so I'll just say this right out: I'kris has implicated you in Iolene's murder. We'll need to know where you were around the time of the death, and we'd like to know about your interactions with I'kris." A pause before, regretfully, "We'll also need someone to search your weyr. We can choose a mutually agreeable person. I know how I would feel about that... invasion. But we have little choice but to take this seriously." Does she think H'kon's involved? Hard to say, but given she's chosen to tell him over drinks and not in custody...

There's no shock for Brieli's declaration, no thanks for the directness of it. But H'kon reaches for that whisky and brings it to his nose, inhales just lightly. Eyes flick to the goldrider, maybe in appreciation for the quality. Or anything else, really. The whiskey is sipped carefully, and put down in the same manner. "You'll need," H'kon speaks through that initial warming sensation, "Arekoth and I to stay away from it until you're done, then. A guest weyr or ground weyr, perhaps." He rotates the glass, still between his fingertips, a quarter turn. A wary glance goes outside the booth. "Will you be asking the rest here?"

After giving the brownrider time for his drink, "I imagine the guest weyr will be fine, for the time being." Brieli doesn't seem to be enjoying any of this, for all she's able to meet H'kon's gaze directly. After a purse of her lips and her own glance around, "I thought it would be... better than calling you into the council room? But whatever you're comfortable with. Though I imagine if someone wants listen, they'll find some way to do so." So says paranoia.

H'kon acknowledges his new living arrangements with yet another of those nods. "Whatever you think best, then," comes with a push of his back against the bench, a means of communication more than an adjustment for comfort; it doesn't take too long for him to sit back up straight once again. "I will try to speak plain."

Giving another quick look around, Brieli picks up her own glass, tilting it H'kon's way in something between a toast and an entreaty - go on. After another sip - she won't risk the servers coming by - she nods. "That's preferable." Agreeable. However he wants to handle it is fine with her. For now, at least.

Lack of specific questions are not working for him. It takes H'kon a moment to properly understand those motions from Brieli; once he does, his brow knits. The whiskey glass is lifted once more, sipped. "I... attempted to make I'kris comfortable in the Weyr. To encourage him to make use of the opportunity to grow, if not in his own Weyr, when perhaps he should have needed it. I saw good in him..." And H'kon shrugs. And sips again, this time, as salute to the end of his winding tale.

"Did you have anything to do with Iolene's death? Did you talk to him about it before it happened at all?" Brieli will ask specific questions if she must, but they require that she lean over the table, lower her tone. Her dark gaze is sober and intense as she continues to watch H'kon's reactions, in case there's something that gives, something that betrays him. Iesaryth, even in her own meandering way, is straightforward in a rush of saltwater Arekoth's way, shallow, not meant to drown. Is there anything she should be aware of?

H'kon pushes a bit of air through nearly-closed lips, and shakes his head in time to a solemn, "No," in response to her first question. "I try not to speak against my Weyr," ends with tension, though not defensiveness. "We spoke... of our fathers. Of right and wrong, to some extent..." And he purses his lips, and twists the glass on the table, a quarter turn, in the direction opposite his first twist. Arekoth's answer to Iesaryth flashes, frustration being stunted from his rider's end happily let out at the gold. << The weyrwoman is dead, >> has all the edge that H'kon's voice has been omitting, mostly.

"You didn't like her or what she was doing, though." Brieli can say that without too much weight to it one way or the other, but her eyes harden a touch. "What about your fathers?" she asks, tilting her head slightly as she regards H'kon. Then, "Look. I know this is not an easy thing, but this is your opportunity to tell your side of the story. He's certainly told his. Talk or not, but it's not ''my'' life and career that's in question here." In case he'd forgotten about the seriousness of the situation, as if anyone could. At the flash of frustration, the waters rise, waves washing stronger and higher, skies darkening. Iesaryth is firm. << Be helpful or do not speak to me. >> Like ''that'', is the sense, unspoken.

"I was and am loyal to my Weyr," is a sort of acknowledgement to Brieli's assessment of his feelings toward Iolene. "Weyrwoman," has that tension again, this time with an edge of impatience to it, neatly synchronised with Arekoth's pink flash the light in the dark skies that reflects over Iesaryth's waves, "I am not ''trying'' to keep anything from you. There is nothing to be said here. We spoke of what our fathers taught us and what we thought right, so far as duty to the Weyr, proper behaviour. These are the things we spoke of. We did not speak of the former weyrwoman until she'd died. You know this conversation." And H'kon twists the glass, a half turn.

With a sigh, "But I have to ask, you know this, yes? There are people we'll owe explanations. I know that you're not, but..." Brieli is easily frustrated as well, shaking her head as she looks down over her glass. "Loyalty can't be ''assumed'' in this situation and it's not as if I enjoy spending my time like this. I am... trying to do what I can to not make this an interrogation." But it is, really - and that appears to be something the goldrider has become tired of. But fine: "Did you tell him that he should kill her? Give him the means to do so?" Iesaryth's clouds dull that flash, though it lights them eerily, along with the waves below.

Arekoth's frustration hasn't worked its way out of his rider; or maybe it's all reflected. It's present in the bitten-off, "Then ask-" -- but when Brieli does, H'kon holds his tongue. Until it is time to say, quite calmly, if firmly, "No." And where another man might offer more detail to back up his story, H'kon simply leaves it at this, and lifts his drink. Needless to say, when it's put back down, it turns halfway, back to its original position.

Brieli just nods once to that answer, her expression barely changing as she watches H'kon drink, the way he puts his glass down precisely. She doesn't seem all that surprised he hasn't offered more, but still gives a little shake of her head. After just up and finishing her own liquor, just like that, "Where were you when she died? You were out-of-Weyr. Where and for how long? And can anyone place you there?" She's given up on anything other than questions, just getting through the last of it, rather grimly. She spins her empty glass on the table, a gesture that's loud (well, would be anywhere else) and oddly angry.

"Arekoth and I had gone to Tillek." The first of several facts, fired off one after another, almost without emotion. "With my sister and father. Haeron, a fisherman. Some others in Tillek may have seen, I am not certain. The watchdragon would know. We were not there long before the dragons keened. Time enough to land, greet, have my sister begin oiling Arekoth." There's only a pull at the corner of his mouth for the last, though it looks positively morose. Arekoth's edge dulls some for the stolen memory of the moment. He quite likes the sister.

Why shouldn't Arekoth like someone who oils him without complaining? Iesaryth seems to think this is a good thing; though she's still cloudy, there's a froth to the waves, a lightness there. She apparently buys the facts as stated, bolstered with that memory. Her rider has no way to give such impression, but her shoulders drop a fraction at the explanation. Brieli isn't quite relieved, but something about the presence of that alibi has her less tense. She'll nod, placing her hand flat over the glass. "Thank you." A pause. "I won't tell you what he said, obviously. I don't think that's wise." Another, shorter one before, "I am sorry that all of this was necessary." And that could be meant on a few levels. "As for your weyr, perhaps one of the wingseconds?"

H'kon's face twists, another smile, still not particularly comfortable to perform or look at, though it is a more sincere, wry sort of expression this time. "Haven't you told me already," comes with another half-turn of the glass, which is then lifted. "Pick whomever you think best. My only request would be someone discrete." Not that they will find anything particularly delicate there, apart from some letters from his family, but.

"I suppose," Brieli says, looking somewhat disappointed with that, and for a moment, quite young. "I wasn't trained in questioning suspects. My cousins..." She lets that trail off with a shrug, the trace of a reminiscent smile - even now. Looking back up to H'kon with a nod, "I'll have it taken care of tomorrow. So you're not displaced for too long." And nothing delicate... but for some things the brownrider might not know are there. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Sliding her empty glass aside, "I appreciate your candor, as always. And eloquence." There's a smirk that has her back to her usual enigmatic self as she rises from her seat. "Try to enjoy your evening. Or the drink, at least." It was free! But came with an accusation. Not the best bonus.

"I can keep my distance from him if you like." It's Arekoth who picks up on some of the unsaid under H'kon's flattened brow, and shares (helpfully) with Iesaryth, << I'kris is a rodent. >> Helpful. "Brieli," is spoken a bit more firmly, with his voice even raising a bit in volume. It's quiet again when he decides, "Weyrwomen are not killed at random. There is some reason behind it. If I ''had'' done this, I would stand by mine." Which is kind of like a plea for his innocence. Sort of. And he lifts he turns his drink back on the table.

"That won't be an issue. He's not about." Brieli is certain on that - at least, as certain as any paranoid person with someone under guard can be. Iesaryth? Does not argue, but her thoughts are all to Svissath at his rider's name, so worried for the brown and his anxiety and fear and guilt... it darkens her waters, saddens her. Her rider pauses for that last, and she can tell H'kon, even meeting his gaze with her dark one, "I know." She seems about to add something, then thinks the better of it. "Clear skies." That's weighted, meaningful on a few levels. And as she shrugs on her coat, she heads for the patio and bowl.

Arekoth has no sympathy for that brown; he's too linked to his rider, and his rider is too linked to Arekoth's for the hawkish brown's liking. It's a cold silence that meets the gold's mental retreat. As for H'kon, he holds the weyrwoman's gaze so long as its on him. "Clear skies, weyrwoman," is offered back. And, "Thank you for the drink." Which he will finish at his own pace.





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