View source for Logs:Old Friends and Good

{{Log
|involves=High Reaches Weyr
|type=Log
| who = K'del, R'hin, Telavi
| where = Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr
| what = K'del introduces R'hin and Telavi. 
| day = 24
| month = 9
| turn = 33
| IP = Interval
| IP2 = 10
| gamedate = 2014.01.06
| quote = "Hard enough keeping this place supplied without any prospective barmaids being won over by your rakish charm and good looks… ''definitely'' can't afford that."
| weather = 
| categories = General
| mentions = Anvori, Bristia, Oriane, Quielle, Satiet
| ooc = 
| icons = k'del atthebar.jpg, r'hin.jpg, telavi.jpg
| log = '''Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr

''About as high up the bowl wall as it is possible to get before hitting clear sky, right up against the rim, this ledge is tiny, narrow and not terribly inviting. Though angled towards the sun, there's not enough room to properly stretch out, and that same angle ensures it receives the worst of bad weather, with no shelter whatsoever. From above, there's not even an obvious passage inside, as if this particular ledge is, in the end, nothing more than a natural outcropping. It's only from atop the ledge itself that the cleverly concealed entrance becomes clear, angled into the stone as it is. 

''Inside, there's a cavernous space, more than making up for the stinginess of the ledge. There's one large main room, and a much smaller back room that could probably be used as a bedroom - if this weyr were in traditional usage. Instead, the main cavern is largely filled with a collection of mismatched tables and chairs, with a trolley at the far end that contains a prodigious amount of liquor. Old, but still impressive, hangings cover the walls, all depicting scenes of High Reaches in glory. The back room has been turned into a storage area, with several cases of whisky and a variety of other spirits ready and waiting. 

''A strange pipe contraption comes through the ceiling and towards the stone floor, where a large bucket sits beneath it. A lever turns on water from the pipe: fresh rain or snow, ready for drinking.

----

There's another time-honored, just-started-tonight tradition underway: the majority of Savannah's riders are gathered in the rider's lounge, having co-opted chairs and couches near the center of the space, turning them around to roughly circle a table at the middle. The group immediately surrounding the table is in the midst of a poker game, a sizeable pot of marks in the middle of the table, and Bristia at the center as dealer, complete with suitable one-liners such as, "Come on, A'gon. If you take as long to decide whether you want another card or not as you do to decide what to wear, we'll be at this all day." Most of the rest are standing around, watching, laughing, and occasionally cat-calling out. There's plenty of drinks to hand -- something R'hin's apparently working hard at, a bottle of some dark liquid in hand, moving amongst the crowd to refill drinks.

Seeing as how the lounge lacks certain ''comforts''-- and has taken time to get going, maybe more importantly-- Telavi's only rarely visited: once when it first opened, and occasionally with friends who want to check it out all over again. Still, it's not like it's hard to get there for a green who's used to her own tricksy ledge, even with how it's been raining; Tela's quick to hop off, quick to laugh at her blueriding friend who's having a harder time of it and winds up making another pass, and quicker to waltz on in out of the wet. Not that she goes for a drink as immediately as that; with a seat having opened up on a couch, she's shucking off her light jacket to ''save that spot''.

That K'del is in and out of the lounge as often as he can manage is probably no surprise - it is, after all, partially his baby, and certainly part of the Weyr he's taken on. It's shortly after Telavi arrives that he emerges from the back room, hefting a box of bottles with which to replenish the trolley: business is booming. If he pauses, then, to glance out over the room with something like proprietary, fatherly pride, can he really be mocked for it? Probably. Still, he does it anyway - he's pleased. 

There's other scattered people in the lounge, some half paying attention to the game going on at the center of the room, others trying to ignore it. While they're not being deliberately loud, one of the brownriders folding after a minute does earn some loud jibes and, "G'wan. Give up your spot if you don't have the balls to stick with it!" type comments. Bristia looks pleased, like everyone who drops out is a personal victory. R'hin's circling route finished, he heads back towards the trolley, and as he spots K'del, says, "You know you need to build a bar here. How am I supposed to practice slouching and looking ''brooding'' and ''handsome'' without one? Not to mention begging for an extension on my tab." Because clearly he has to have one, despite being here such a short time.

It's the blonde, or maybe the blonde's pleasure, or maybe the ''type'' of pleasure, that gains Tela's attention even after the jibes have faded away; couch claimed, after a ''look'' that manages to be both sweet and touch-this-and-you-die meaningful for her future neighbor, she ambles for the table with an easy sway of her hips. Not that she's watching the cards, no, not with her laughing gaze slid discreetly down to what's on the table and then back to the people, without stops in between.

"Not sure I can afford having you do that at my bar," says K'del in return, a quick-smart comeback that has him grinning. "Hard enough keeping this place supplied without any prospective barmaids being won over by your rakish charm and good looks… ''definitely'' can't afford that." Leaning down, he replaces one of the empty bottles with a full one, and, stretching, casts a glance around the room. Catching a glimpse of Tela, he grins in the greenrider's direction; then, back to R'hin, "Least you lot are keeping the place busy." 

The Savannah riders don't seem all ''that'' bothered by Telavi's intrusion -- after all, pretty girls can get away with a lot of things -- though it doesn't look like anyone's about to give up their hard-won seats at the table just yet. Still, she has front row seats to Bristia's roll of her eyes and, "Call it," to the pair of riders still in the game: the reveal shows the bluerider bluffing with a pair of sevens and another brownrider scoring with a pair of queens. R'hin, meanwhile, has a hand against his chest and incredulous look as if to ask ''moi?'' "I always pay my debts," indignantly, though it doesn't last, following K'del's glance. "Mmhm. Was thinking of making it a thing, you know -- once a seven. Wing morale, all that." That it helps K'del is unspoken, of course: his brow furrowing as he watches the non-Savannah greenrider near the poker table. Without turning back, he continues the conversation: "That is, if you can ''supply'' us with enough alcohol. I'll slip you extra for some decent quality stuff hidden out the back?" Because it's not a true bar unless there's a secret stash.

Telavi ''does'' like front row seats, it's true. She also doesn't mind letting that appreciation show, green-today eyes delighted and cheeks flushed, pretty-pretty-pretty. The greenrider misses K'del's grin in tipping an invisible glass towards the brownrider for the success, but that seems to be a reminder that her hand is, alas, empty; not right away, but after she's gotten some light chat with the bystanders-- is the brownrider working a streak, how ''is'' the booze, that sort of thing-- it's clearly time to ''fix'' that particular problem given how she starts threading her way towards the far side of the cavern.

"Can certainly supply you with ''quantity''," returns K'del, with a laugh. "But quality? Quality is harder. Quality--" Tela's threading her way towards them, and again, the Acting Weyrleader has caught sight of her. But before she gets there, he's picking up his dropped thread of conversation to say, "Quality is possible, but we'll have to talk terms. The whole weekly thing, though - that's good. That's the kind of thing this place is here for, I think. Keeps people happy. ''Tela''." That would be 'hi'.  

There's certainly some banter back to the greenrider, but then the game is moving on -- a couple of new players squeezing their way in, and others pushed jokingly to the back after some jeering. "We can talk terms," R'hin says, easily, turning attention back to K'del. "I can arrange a supplier, if that's an issue in terms of sourcing." He hasn't failed to notice the brief pause on the other bronzerider's part, a tip of head suggesting unvoiced curiosity on his part, a casual, sidelong regard given to the greenrider as she joins them. "''Tela'', is it?" complete with the same emphasis K'del gives. "Pleased to meet you." He offers his spare hand towards her.

It's the most familiar face that gets Telavi's smile first as she wanders up to the trolley, hands behind her back-- look, not touching!-- and that mane of whiskey-blonde hair mostly loose over one shoulder; not that she doesn't glance at the other man, before she steals that tone all over again, "''K'del.''" And, "It ''is''," which makes twice she's done that now. She does spare a hand to cross palms with the visitor, although she says all confidentially-like, "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me." Only, there might be a touch of puzzlement entering those green eyes, now that she's heard his voice.

A short nod answers R'hin's mention of suppliers, though an actual answer is, in K'del's case, postponed until after he's said: "You're looking well, Tela. This is R'hin, our loaner Wingleader from Monaco. He's an old friend of mine. R'hin, Telavi. Another friend, though perhaps more recent." And thus, less old. "If you've decent suppliers, I'd not mind the hookup. We've ''some'' decent stuff, but not enough to do anything big with it." 

"Yes, I ''do'', don't I," R'hin agrees with Telavi as he releases her hand, a dark thread of amusement in his voice that suggests he's not about to ease that balance of power any time soon. At least until K'del spoils the surprise, so to speak, the Savannah rider looking wry. Or maybe that's just the other bronzerider's description of him as an ''old'' friend. "You're ''killing'' me, K'del," he says, exaggerating it with hand to his heart. "But since we're such ''old'' friends, and I like ''quality'', I'll still hook you up. So to speak." There's more laughter and jeering from the center of the room as another rider folds.

Tela spots that wryness and raises him a brilliant smile-- to K'del. "You don't say. Is there a drink to be had, before you two... hook up? I've heard stories." Her glance dances between the two men, and when it starts to drift more towards R'hin, she's swift to bring it back into line.

K'del's brows raise, an exaggerated gesture that becomes even more obviously joking when he says, "Accept my apologies, R'hin. Ought to be more... careful, given your advanced age. It'd do my little establishment here no good at all, if we had a dead body on her hands... not to mention our relationship with Monaco. Shall I call you a ''good'' friend, and leave it at that?" His mouth twitches, just slightly, as he adds, "You and your hook ups. Much appreciated. Tela, of course. Let me buy you one - and you, R'hin? While I'm here."

"That, and Bristia would have to take over the wing. She'd be upset at with me, and I don't think even being dead would avoid her wrath," R'hin says with easy humor. There's so many more things he could say about ''dead bodies'', but they're amongst friends, and the thought merely passes as a long pause. "Good friends," he confirms K'del's suggestion. "Stories?" he echoes Telavi, with an interested tone. "Well, K'del and I... you know, friends sometimes ''slip'' Even ''old'' ones." There's a shake of head to the offer of a drink, holding up the bottle -- though given he's been busy filling the ''rest'' of his wing's cups with it, he probably hasn't had the pleasure of much. Or maybe he's just that much of a drink snob.

"Why thank you; I wouldn't turn you down," Telavi assures the taller bronzerider, dimple showing briefly for all that she adds no particular emphasis; to the other, "''Truly''. I've heard there's often a slip 'tween the cup and the lip," and she lifts her brows in inquiry before adding, half as afterthought, "Stories. Those mostly had to do with sort of treasure's available back here. Liquid treasure, alas."

From the trolley, K'del selects a bottle and some glasses, pouring some for himself and some for Telavi. In doing so, he's positioned partially away from both other riders, his expression concealed though he can still hear - and contribute - at leisure. "You're all here after my liquid treasure; can see that, now. Scoping the place out. Some ''friends''." There's enough amusement in his tone for it to be obvious that he's joking, even if the words themselves weren't hint enough. Still, as he turns back to offer Telavi her drink, he adds, "As long as no one's making up stories about how I orchestrated the whole thing swap thing just to get R'hin by my side where he's supposed to be… though if anyone believed ''that'' I'd be surprised. Cheers!" 

With hands held skywards, R'hin's quick to say: "No accusations please. Besides, I'm holding out for the ''good'' stuff. I have ''standards''." Despite the put on emphasis it's probably not an inaccurate summary from the bronzerider. "Besides, I've already ''know'' who has the good local stashes." There's a momentary pause where R'hin ''looks'' at K'del as if determining whether ''he'' believes it -- but it's quickly followed by a snort and a, "Nooo. Besides, that'd involve collusion with Oriane, and ''no one'' could buy that."

Telavi's laughing as the one man starts in, and as the other dramatically defends, like she couldn't ''possibly'' be implicated herself; nor does she break in for that foreign Weyrwoman or the rest, only obligingly taking that glass. Perhaps it's only the laughter that's caused the renewed pink in her cheeks as she assures K'del-- or is it R'hin?-- "If there ''is'' a leash, it's quite invisible. Why, I can't see a thing!" She lifts her glass, drinks-- swallows hard and then ''stares'' at K'del. Forlornly. ''What he gave her''.

"Why does it not surprise me that you've worked ''that'' much out already," says K'del, abruptly laughing. ''He's'' downed a good finger's worth of his drink without protest, though there's an apology in his glance towards Telavi. "If more people paid for their drinks the way they're supposed to," he explains, "we'd have better booze. As it is… anyway, too true, R'hin. Colluding with Oriane seems a bit much. And ''so'' does this leash idea. No thank you." 

Telavi's receiving a long look from R'hin, and it's not really musing so much as ''intent''. ''He'' has nothing to say on the idea of leashes, casually glancing over his shoulder as if distracted by the convenient whooping noise from Savannah's riders. "Honor system never works. Especially when it comes to booze and riders. I told you: bar. And a cute barmaid." He's staring musingly at the ceiling, as if imagining such a thing. Then: "Maybe ''Tela'' could help you out?" another look at the girl, this time more at ease.

Telavi will forgive K'del, smiling, even with R'hin's eyes on her that way; "Then with my not paying for my own drink, ''clearly'' it's my own fault for reinforcing the system," she says in far too serious a tone. "Having said that... I do believe I could ''recommend someone'', yes," with her gaze slipping back to R'hin right at the end there, just as her tone slips light: ''not'' volunteering, no. And then, lightly still for all the thoughtfulness in those green eyes, "Do you know, speaking of Monaco... I ran into a sailor who sounded quite a bit like you, once upon a time; he was a very ''poor'' sailor, mind."

This time, K'del turns his gaze from one companion to the other, and while not ''suspicious'', there's something in this expression to suggest pause. Still: "Well, if you can recommend someone, I'll give it some thought. It's possible we could throw some more marks in here to get at least a basic bar, and from there… well, an experiment. Since this one clearly isn't working quite as well as I'd hoped." 

"Really?" R'hin's brows go upwards, obviously not unused to being ''accused'' in such a way. "Clearly, whoever ''he'' was, he was not a true sailor. A ''true'' sailor is ''never'' poor; he's always rich with th' bounty of th' ocean." By the end he's expertly speaking in an Istan sailor's slang, complete with acting-method sloshing of his half-empty bottle. It doesn't last, however: the idea of the bar clearly has his imagination turning over. "I have a ''friend'' who is a woodworker; he'd do the work at friend's rates. I mean... the trolley is ''nice'' and all," and he's being ''nice'' by saying so, "--but a solitary drink is made easier with a pretty, smiling face to hand. Besides, that ''boor'' could use some competition." He waves his hand, vaguely, in the direction of the Snowasis.

Tela can't help but laugh, all that thoughtfulness wiliingly distracted into freer, purer enjoyment; she murmurs to K'del, "You might have him do impressions. I don't know that people would pay to watch, but surely they'd be happy to stay and spend. 'Boor,' though?" She's gotten back to her glass, by now sipping without so much as a wince.

As impressions go, that's a new one to K'del's ears, and he gives R'hin a long, searching glance… before his expression twitches into a grin for Telavi's murmured comment. "What ''don't'' you have connections for, R'hin? Should I just turn this place over to you, see what comes of it-- don't answer that. The trolley, I'll have you know, is ''tradition''. F'manis has been using this place for card nights for longer than I've been a rider, I think. The boor," he adds, for Telavi's benefit, "is Anvori. Who is, of course, the uncle of R'hin's daughters. ''Why'' he's a boor is… why ''is'' he a poor, R'hin?" 

A dismissive wave of R'hin's hand follows Telavi's inquisitiveness about the ''boor'', though, as if that's far too much energy required to discuss it. "Get me drunk enough and I'll tell you some time. And you can tell me all about that sailor of yours." That's thrown out with especial casualness, before he backpedals at K'del's threat of handing the Weyr over. "Fuck, no. I have enough on my hands dealing with--" glance over his shoulder, then, "--speaking of. I'd best get back before ''that'' gets out of hand." There's some lively accusations of cheating, half-joking, half-serious. "Don't want to add furniture replacement to my tab." The one that doesn't exist. With little more than a tip of his bottle, the Savannah rider is quickly striding over to join his wing, his baritone echoing out to offer drinks to smooth things over, and with a quick look at Bristia, ''she's'' getting the game underway again as R'hin takes a seat at the table for his hand.

It's byplay that Telavi's not about to interrupt, to the point that she settles in, leaning on the trolley in question-- if not, she might hope, at such an angle to send it rolling off. "My," she says when R'hin's well gone. "What ''have'' you welcomed to the Weyr, K'del? Or back to the Weyr, maybe I should say, though it doesn't have quite the ring. I suppose I shouldn't suggest that he sounds like they're brothers."

K'del appears largely unperturbed by R'hin's reaction to his words, though he'll watch after the other bronzerider as he disappears back into the game. He's still idly glancing in that direction when Telavi's words finally draw his attention again; he turns back towards her, brows lifted, and then laughs. "He's... R'hin. Hard to imagine him as Weyrleader, isn't it? Especially with Satiet... though you'd never have met her, I suppose. ''Brothers''... no, that sounds appalling. Not that, definitely. He's been a good friend, though, jokes aside."

"No, though I have heard stories," said a touch self-deprecatingly; who hasn't heard ''stories'' of that Weyrwoman, after all. Telavi glances down at her glass, then back up to K'del. "Is that what he's here for? To be your friend? Or... is that just a lovely coincidence."

''That'' seems to surprise K'del. "Complete coincidence," he says, quickly. "No - this all comes from Monaco. Oriane's idea, from what I understand, though," he shrugs. "Details are details. There's enough of a relationship between us and Monaco, for better or for worse, that it's not wholly unusual, transferring a wing like that for a set period of time. We'll see." He glances down at his drink, now, and then sets the - surprisingly empty - glass back upon the trolley. "Not that we've done it in a while, I guess." 

"It seems like an interesting thing to do," Telavi muses. "Interval, you know? Visit another place... assuming you can, and want to, go back." She still hasn't looked back over to R'hin, though there's a ghost of a smile now and again when his voice becomes more readily audible. "Or many places. Would you rather do it as a wing than on your own, if it were your idea, keep that little bit more of home?"

Without a glass to hold, K'del's hands have nothing to keep them busy: they fiddle, shifting here, and then there, and then finally subsiding into a hand-hold position behind his back. "It could be," he agrees. "Used to imagine doing it, on my own, when I was first a rider: Cadejoth'd catch a junior queen somewhere, and off we'd go. Guess there'd be advantages and disadvantages to both. Hard to really get the culture of a place, if you're surrounded by things from home. On the other hand… Shall I send you, next time?" 

"Of ''course'' he did," Tela remarks for K'del's imagination, teasing. "But you wouldn't be gone for so very long, would you? Or did your imaginary self fall in love," she gives it such a ''lilt'', "with the goldrider, and you'd move in and live happily ever after-- at least, until the next one? As for sending me," she shrugs, glancing back out to the ledge that Nhidanth's stopped trying to land on a long time ago. "Right now I like it right where I am, but do ask me come wintertime."

K'del's snort is good natured. "My imaginary self wasn't interested in ''love'', I'll have you know… but he may have attempted to wrangle a longer stay, just to ''see''." The corners of his mouth turn up in amusement and pleased recollection for the very idea; he's lost to it for a couple of seconds before, abruptly, "In any case, seems unlikely to happen, now. I'll remember that. Speaking of--" non-sequitur incoming, "what was all that about a sailor?"  

Telavi makes to fan herself at ''that''. "Clever, clever. At least if--" He cuts in, she breaks off, green-today eyes lifting. "Well-- voices. You know how memorable they can be." That's for starters, anyway; smiling, she looks for his cue.

K'del's expression is - for a moment, blink and you'll miss it - apologetic for his interruption. Of course, it can't linger: he's too interested in her reply. "''Voices''," he repeats, and this time he's got his eyebrows raised. "You'd recognise it anywhere, huh?"

"Nowhere near," Telavi's pretty confident of that, near-laughingly so; he'd heard the impressions as much as she. "But... if you thought you might have run into someone else, all incognito, would you admit to it right off? In case you were wrong? It seems a shame not to acknowledge the game."

Gaze falling from Telavi and back towards the drinks trolley, K'del considers for a few moments before he allows, "No, probably not. Seems like… there's room for that to go wrong, and besides which, there's always the possibility that they'll lie to you, and that's worse." By the end of that, he's glanced up again; he's smiling. "It ''is'' a game. Going anywhere incognito to begin with, I think. And you tend to enjoy that, as I recall." 

"I ''do''," Telavi admits, smiling back at K'del with a reminiscent lack of remorse. She'd been discreetly observing his expression, and now twists away from the trolley she'd been leaning on, if only to step closer again. If only to set her emptied glass down. Her fingers curl around the trolley's nearest edge. But what she says is, if with a hint of laughter in her voice, "Not that it was the most discreet thing in the world to inquire in front of you... but you ''are'' friends. Did I mention, Nhidanth tried to land ''four times'' before giving up for the day? I think it's the rain."

K'del's laugh is low - not much more than a chuckle. And it's pleased. "Luckily for you, ''I'' am perfectly discreet," he says, rolling his shoulders back, which gives his body ''something'' to do that isn't refill-a-glass-and-have-another-drink. "I'd say someone should put the ladder out, up to the rim, but I'm not sure i'd care to climb it in the rain, either. Hope Quielle wasn't ''that'' intent on drinking here."

''"'Perfectly.'"'' Little does he know. Tela can't help but watch the movement, if with more of that vaunted discretion, smiling just a little to herself. "Nor would I, nor she, I'm pretty sure. I suppose I had best go console her." Not as though Quie is sobbing her heart out, but doesn't it make a better story?

"Tell her I'll break out a bottle of the ''good'' stuff when she actually makes it here, mmm? You can have some too, promise." K'del's already taking a half step away from the trolley, as if this will encourage ''others'' to come and drink, and adds, "And have a good one, okay? Don't drown on your way out."  





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