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Nicky: Created page with "{{ Log | who = Barnabas, R'co | where = Greenhouse | what = R'co begs a bit of earth from Bones to sow his seeds in. | when = It is a summer afternoon, 19:26 of day 19, month..."

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Created page with "{{ Log | who = Barnabas, R'co | where = Greenhouse | what = R'co begs a bit of earth from Bones to sow his seeds in. | when = It is a summer afternoon, 19:26 of day 19, month..."

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{{ Log
| who = Barnabas, R'co
| where = Greenhouse
| what = R'co begs a bit of earth from Bones to sow his seeds in.
| when = It is a summer afternoon, 19:26 of day 19, month 7, turn 31 of Interval 10.
| gamedate = 2013.04.19
| quote = "Doo dee doop doop doo... Dum diddly dee dum dooo-"
| weather = Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
| categories =
| mentions = Taikrin, Aishani, Azaylia, Hana
| ooc =
| icons = barnabas cleaned.jpg, r'co lookup.jpg
| log =
'''Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr'''

''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.''

The summer afternoon is fading into a sultry warm night as Rukbat sinks below the ridge of the bowl. Dinner has come and gone for those who dine early, with the rest of the evening ahead to fill with leisurely pursuits. Such as, in R'co's case, a trip to the greenhouse. He comes carrying a drawstring pouch looped over his wrist, dressed for summer in his shorts, shirt and boots, his cheeks and nose rosy and sun-kissed around the paler shape of where his riding goggles would typically be. The blonde pushes open the door to the greenhouse, stepping inside and walking along the path at an easy sort of pace as he looks around - searching, perhaps?

"Doo dee doop doop doo..." comes the growly hum of a man who's work schedule pays no heed to the position of the sun or moons, and who's most recent nap has seen him refreshed enough to jump right into work. "Dum diddly dee dum dooo-" He emerges from behind a trio of tall potted trees, decked in his usual sleeveless number and carrying some sort of fern in front of him. He scarcely notices the guest as he hooks the plant up onto a crossbeam, letting it hang nicely out of the way of the main path through the center.

Unexpected singing has R'co frowning in surprise; his lips purse and he peers around, until -- aha! There's a ''Bones'' over there. Given the descriptions he's received of the man it's not hard to determine that he's found the gardener at last, and the brownrider pads over to him, picking his way daintily along the path until he's close enough to gently clear his throat, announcing his presence. "''You'' would be the gardener, then?" Light blue gaze is cast upward, looking out from behind the blonde hair that falls just so over one eye. "''Please'' say you are. I've somehow managed to miss you ''every time'' I've tried finding you."

R'co is only partially ignored as he moves in for that clearing of this throat, Bones' face lighting up with a big grin as he puts the finishing touches on fern placement. "Juuuust a second..." he quietly urges as he moves it a few inches this way, then a few inches that, untill finally clapping his hands free of the bit of dust from the clay pot he'd just hung. "There we go. Sorry 'bout that. These suckers are real particular on the light they get." It's after the explanation that he turns to R'co and offers him a large rough hand for a shaking. "Been lookin' for me eh? I don't owe you marks, do I? Ha!"

R'co's handshake is firm, perhaps stronger than might be expected by looking at him, though his hands are definitely soft. "Ferns can be ''particularly'' tricky," he agrees with a nod of his head. "Actually, I ''have'' come here to ask for something, though it's ''not'' marks." The wrist around which his drawstring pouch is looped is held up, the little leather bag tapped with a finger to make it swing. "I was rather hoping to be able to plant some seeds, if you've got the space to spare? Just some herbs, some flowers, nothing too invasive... though the mint would do best in a pot, of course."

Bones' eyebrows lift at the prospect of a pouch of foreign plants being introduced into his greenhouse. Secret plants. ''Mystery'' plants. "Herbs and flowers eh?" He seems suspicious, though not entirely untrusting. "I'm runnin' tight on space on account of summer blastin' through. Best time to grow, y'know. Buuuuut I'm thinkin' I got a little space for you. C'mon, let's see what we can do you for, eh?" He throws a thumb over his shoulder to give a general sense of direction, and then turns to head deeper into his man-made jungle.

"I ''did'' have space back at Ista, six turns established, too - it was ''heart''-wrenching to have to ''leave'' them all behind." R'co trots after Bones, having to put on a little speed to keep up with the taller man. "And I had some of the most ''darling'' little plants on my ledge, too - of course, they'd ''hardly'' stand the weather here even if they ''did'' make it through between alright. My Sootie ''adored'' them, though." He reaches out to fondle a lush-looking leaf as they pass by it. "Of course, I ''normally'' pop down to, say, Southern, or even Ista's forests to supplement my supply, so these are more... more for ''me'', I suppose. A ''personal'' stash, if you like."

R'co’s recollections of the past have Bones ocasionally turning his head to the side and glancing back at the blonde brownrider. There are many questions to ask, but Bones only picks one. "Sootie?" The question is asked just as they arrive at a workbench near the very end of greenhouse space, it's top cleared of everything but a wicked selection of blades that thankfully seem appropriate as garden tools. Tucked underneath are all manner of garden pots, large and small. "What's your name?" Okay, so he picks two.

"Oh, of course - how rude of me to forget to introduce myself." R'co picks to answer that question first, giving Bones an apologetic, pouty smile. "R'co. Brown Deveriteauxth's, Impressed in Ista but now back home in High Reaches, and with Snowdrift. ''And'' fighting fake ''thread'' every other day, which is absolutely ''ridiculous'', as you can see." He indicates the panda-eye sunburn he's got going on. "Sootie is my ''darling'' little bunny. She's ''such'' a sweetheart, I absolutely ''must'' grow some more herbs for her - though I won't trouble you for the supplies for ''that'', of course. And what would your name be, other than 'the gardener'?" He may have been told it before, but R'co's got to be sure!

"R'co, Sootie." He gives a short nod as he makes mental note of the names, and reaches down underneath the table to tug out a small asssortment of clay pots from small to medium, setting them out across the table. "I just wanna know who to blame it on when it turns out you're growin' wicked poisons up in here or something, ha!" With a manner of selections presented, he moves to finding a bag of potter's soil. "Call me Bones!"

The look the brownrider gives Bones, narrow-eyed and raised-browed, says it all, really... but this is ''R'co'', and if there's words to be spoken he'll say them. "''Really''? Do I ''really'' look the type to be planting ''poisons'', darling?" One hand is set tight to his cocked hip, and he fixes the gardener with that vaguely amused look for a few moments longer, before breaking away to snort. "I think I'd do some serious damage to my business if I were to start growing ''poisons'', Bones. ''Bones''. Whyever ''Bones''? Surely that's not what your mother called you?"

A satchel of soil is sliced open with an ivory-handled straight razor, and once the blade is folded up Bones sets to filling up the planters across the table. "Hmm, you don't look like the ''last'' poisoner I met, I guess I'll give you that much." There's a smirk from the big man as he briefly glances over towards R'co from his work of ensuring no stray soil spills. "Bones is an old nickname from my sailin' days. It stuck with." When pots are filled, bag is set back down near his feet, leaning up against the side of the work table. "I like it."

"And I do suppose it suits you, in a... ''gruff'' sort of way. It's not without its charm." They're somewhat wishy-washy compliments as R'co is clearly trying not to trip up over his tongue. "I don't suppose I've ever had a nickname. ''Pet'' names, yes, but... well, even then, they were only what you'd call ''anyone'' - darling, and the like." He shrugs his shoulders, brushing it off. "Someone once tried with ''Rocsi'', but that sounds ''far'' too much like a whore's name, and while I'm sure I'd make a ''fortune'' if I chose that line of work, I've yet to ''charge'' for my, ah, haha, ''services'', if you know what I mean?" He winks at the gardener, clicking his tongue. "Not that some of my clients haven't ''tried'' that, of course. ''Honestly'', darling, a good massage," he holds his hands up, wiggling slender fingers, "can make a woman all ''sorts'' of eager."

"A fortune, eh Rocsi?" He takes the nickname and runs with it, his grin firing up a touch playful in the process. "Even the ''ladies'' don't make fortunes in hookin', and even your finest fella makes a fraction of that." Again, fate would have it that conversation stumbles into another area of Bones' expertise. "Not that I'm fixin' to bust your bubble. You're plenty pretty, if that's what you're fixin' to hear." Bones winks back at that. "If I tired to give a massage, I'd probably end up hurtin' a poor girl. If all sorts of eager is my aim, I'll just buy her liqour. Ha!"

R'co pouts at the use of that disliked nickname, slapping his hand with playful softness against Bones' upper arm. "Well, if you add the ''tips'' on top of what I charge for a massage... a ''satisfied'' client is ''always'' willing to pay more, and I'm ''quite'' sure I charge more than your typical tavern wench does. Of course, a satisfied ''man'' will normally tip ''double'', if he's indulging in a little something he'd rather keep hush-hush." The brownrider winks, giving Bones a saucy grin. "I like being told I'm pretty. ''Plenty'' pretty sounds ''awfully'' like what my first boyfriend used to say to me... he was a little taller than you. Not ''quite'' as... as deliciously ''rough'', though definitely ''rugged''." His drawstring pouch is dropped to the bench, opened up, and tiny hide packets brought out. "Liquor always works, but a massage is ''far'' more sensual, and they pay ''me'' for it."

Bones uses the opportunity of R'co moving to plant his seeds to cross his arms over his chest and finally size the rider up. It was hard not to, what with all his talk of conquests both past and future. "Wow, you're kind of a slut huh?" The normally derogetory word is said without the usual negative connotations attatched, though his grin alone might not be enough to convey the lack of judgement. "Deliciously rough. I might have to steal that line, hehe."

"I'd take insult to that, if you weren't twice my size." R'co clearly isn't insulted, as he looks up at Bones with a wide grin. "If it helps business, then I'm all for it, though it's not like I do that with ''everyone''... just a few ''special'' clients. And honestly, it's only ''really'' been since..." He pauses, pushing tiny seeds deep into the soil of the largest pot. After he's drawn in and exhaled a deep breath, he continues. "Well, not for very ''long'', anyway. I used to turn them down when I was ''taken''."

"Hey now, no insult meant." He uncrosses his arms and reaches up to snag a crossbeam, just letting his arms hang up above his head as he leans forward to watch R'co plant. "So long as you ain't breakin' hearts, no shame in getting yourself whatever you can. Especially now that you're free and clear right?" There's a pause, and then a realization on top that has him laugh. "Haha! And you're getting ''paid'' too? Sounds like a win win. More veggies for your bun Sootie to nibble on."

R'co finishes planting the last pot, tucking the final little packet into the top, as he's done with each pot before to label them. He's clearly not ''hiding'' whatever it is he's planting - well, assuming what's written on the labels is the truth, of course. "It'd be far ''more'' win if I didn't have to fight Taikrin's ''thread'' every other day." He rolls his eyes as he turns around to face Bones, leaning back against the potting bench with his arms crossed over his chest. "''Honestly''. Thread's not coming again for ''turns'', I don't see ''why'' we ought to get all stinking with firestone and ''disgustingly'' sweaty to flame ''fabric'' from the sky." He rolls his eyes, clearly not a fan of the exercise.

Earlier discussion of the rider's workload went unnoticed, but now at the mention of Taikrin's name he perks up. "Wait, Taikrin?" He's not much for politics, but Taikrin is somebody he knows personally. "''Tai'' is runnin' you guys ragged? That don't sound much like her. She's a pretty easy going chick." One hand is let go from the rafter to rub at the back of his neck as he looks to the floor, trying to remember the last time he'd seen her. Not since Aishani declared her the Weyrleader. "... least that's how I remember her. Maybe I can snag a few minutes with her for old time's sake, see what's up."

"The threadfall drills? Fighting fake thread out over the mountains and, well, ''everywhere''?" R'co seems surprised that Bones hasn't heard of it. "We're doing ''awful'' mock-falls ''all the time''. I've not met her ''personally'' yet, though I'm ''quite'' sure she's nothing like the rumours I heard at Ista." He treads carefully, droppng his hands to curl fingers around the edge of the bench behind him. "I know Aishani was ''far'' nicer than I'd heard. And even ''prettier'', too. Rumour is, after all, just that."

Now things really ''are'' confusing to the gardener, who untethers his last free hand from the overhang and rubs his palms down his face. "Wait, so Taikrin's a bitch now, and Aishani is ''nice''? Aishani's a tunnel snake in a person-suit!" He gives a sigh of frustration. "Or maybe she ain't no more, I don't know. I've been trying hard to keep my nose out of politics."

R'co shakes his head, holding up a hand. "Oh, no-no, I didn't say ''nice''... just ''nicer'' than I'd heard. But, I've met her all of ''once'', and, well, we could chalk it up to her making a good first impression, perhaps?" He shrugs dismissively. "I thought my meeting with Azaylia went ''far'' better. She's ''such'' a darling... I ''do'' hope she comes by for a treatment sometime soon. I met a girl who's scheduling things for her - pretty, blonde? Not ''quite'' as blonde as me, but long hair. For the life of me I ''can't'' remember her name..."

"Hana?" It's a not so wild guess. "She's just the kinda person Zee needs around. A sweetheart with a good head on her shoulders." Bones wipes his hands on his pants to wipe away a bit of the dust that had collected on the crossbeam, and transferred to his palms. "Which, if you're planning on meeting up with Zee for ''apppointments'' and whatnot, I'm hopin' you're the same. For your sake, buddy. Hehe." The threat is meant as a mocking one, most of the teeth taken out of it by the act of cleaning his hands.

Mocking or not, it catches R'co by surprise. "I wouldn't say ''no'' if she were looking for that sort of, ah, treatment, darling, but I rather thought I'd start off with ''tea''. Hana did say she'd pencil me in sometime, though I've yet to hear of ''when'' it might be. Though, you ''have'' raised a question ''right'' to the tip of my tongue..." He cants his head to the side, looking the length of Bones with an appraising gaze - and a pert little pout that seems pleased with whatever conclusion he's drawn. "Would I be stepping on ''your'' toes, if I ''were'' to offer the weyrwoman a little extra on the side, should she be interested?"

The question is met with an honest shrug, and a big grin either oblivious or uncaring to the appraisal R'co levies at him. "My toes don't go anywhere near Azaylia's bedroom, if that answers your question, Rocsi." Big hands slid four fingers into each pocket as he moves to clarify one step further. "You don't seem her type though. She seems to like her meat big and stupid."

"Well, that's just too ''bad'' then, really, isn't it? Though of course, tastes do change. Mine fluctuate ''frequently''." R'co winks. "Though I am ''awfully'' curious, Bones - if you're not like ''that'' with Azaylia, why the warning? Not that I can't ''appreciate'' a fine fellow such as yourself sticking up for someone such as her... though she does rather strike me as a lady who would be ''more'' than capable of caring for herself." He mimics Bones' stance, slipping his hands into his own pockets and stepping towards the taller man, head tilted back to look up at him. "It also begs me to ask what ''your'' type is, if it isn't her?"

"She's tough, but she aims to see the best in people. Sometimes more'n she should. I just like to keep an eye on who aims to get close to her." Bones' talk of more serious subjects to him has his face briefly losing it's smile, but it comes back in full at R'cos question. "Me? I wouldn't know if you could say I got a type. High Reaches been ''full'' of surprises."

"''No'' type is the ''best'' type. I never did see the point in limiting yourself by being over-picky." R'co smirks, flicking his blonde hair back from out of his eyes. "I'd say Azaylia's rather lucky. She's got ''you'' looking out for her, ''Hana'' taking care of her... and I would ''love'' to get my hands on her - in the strictly ''professional'' sense, of course. As I said, I'd only go ''there'' if she ''wanted'' to." He rubs his hands on his shorts, ridding them of what dirt accumulated while planting. "Would you care to join me for a drink, Bones? The patio's always so pleasant at this time of evening, and I'm sure we've got ''much'' more we can talk about... such as massages. Why don't ''you'' come see me, one day? I'll bet your shoulders get knotted, working in here all day?"

"I like knotted." Like his name, he has his particular preferences. "But maybe you can convince me that relaxed is the way to go, eh?" There's a brief glance over to the newly potted plants, checking that they're fine where they are before turning back down to R'co. "Let's get those drinks."

"You ''like'' knotted?" Dubious R'co is dubious. "''Honestly'', darling, you probably need a massage more than ''any''one, if ''that's'' what you think - ''clearly'' you've no idea how ''good'' it feels to be ''that'' relaxed." And the salesman voice comes out, all smooth and stressing on all those ''important'' words. "First one's on me while I try to win you over, hrm?" He beckons towards the door, inviting Bones to lead them out.

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 {{Log
 |type=Log
 | who = Barnabas, R'co

@@ Line 4: / Line 4: @@
 | what = R'co begs a bit of earth from Bones to sow his seeds in.
 | when = It is a summer afternoon, 19:26 of day 19, month 7, turn 31 of Interval 10.
 | gamedate = 2013.04.19
 | quote = "Doo dee doop doop doo... Dum diddly dee dum dooo-"

@@ Line 37: / Line 37: @@
 R'co’s recollections of the past have Bones ocasionally turning his head to the side and glancing back at the blonde brownrider. There are many questions to ask, but Bones only picks one. "Sootie?" The question is asked just as they arrive at a workbench near the very end of greenhouse space, it's top cleared of everything but a wicked selection of blades that thankfully seem appropriate as garden tools. Tucked underneath are all manner of garden pots, large and small. "What's your name?" Okay, so he picks two.
-"Oh, of course - how rude of me to forget to introduce myself." R'co picks to answer that question first, giving Bones an apologetic, pouty smile. "R'co. Brown Deveriteauxth's, Impressed in Ista but now back home in High Reaches, and with Snowdrift. ''And'' fighting fake ''thread'' every other day, which is absolutely ''ridiculous'', as you can see." He indicates the panda-eye sunburn he's got going on. "Sootie is my ''darling'' little bunny. She's ''such'' a sweetheart, I absolutely ''must'' grow some more herbs for her - though I won't trouble you for the supplies for ''that'', of course. And what would your name be, other than 'the gardener'?" He may have been told it before, but R'co's got to be sure!
+"Oh, of course - how rude of me to forget to introduce myself." R'co picks to answer that question first, giving Bones an apologetic, pouty smile. "R'co. Brown Deveriteauxth's, Impressed in Ista but now back home in High Reaches, and with Snowdrift. ''And'' drilling to fight fake ''thread'' every other day, which is absolutely ''ridiculous'', as you can see." He indicates the panda-eye sunburn he's got going on. "Sootie is my ''darling'' little bunny. She's ''such'' a sweetheart, I absolutely ''must'' grow some more herbs for her - though I won't trouble you for the supplies for ''that'', of course. And what would your name be, other than 'the gardener'?" He may have been told it before, but R'co's got to be sure!
 "R'co, Sootie." He gives a short nod as he makes mental note of the names, and reaches down underneath the table to tug out a small asssortment of clay pots from small to medium, setting them out across the table. "I just wanna know who to blame it on when it turns out you're growin' wicked poisons up in here or something, ha!" With a manner of selections presented, he moves to finding a bag of potter's soil. "Call me Bones!"
@@ Line 57: / Line 57: @@
 "Hey now, no insult meant." He uncrosses his arms and reaches up to snag a crossbeam, just letting his arms hang up above his head as he leans forward to watch R'co plant. "So long as you ain't breakin' hearts, no shame in getting yourself whatever you can. Especially now that you're free and clear right?" There's a pause, and then a realization on top that has him laugh. "Haha! And you're getting ''paid'' too? Sounds like a win win. More veggies for your bun Sootie to nibble on."
-R'co finishes planting the last pot, tucking the final little packet into the top, as he's done with each pot before to label them. He's clearly not ''hiding'' whatever it is he's planting - well, assuming what's written on the labels is the truth, of course. "It'd be far ''more'' win if I didn't have to fight Taikrin's ''thread'' every other day." He rolls his eyes as he turns around to face Bones, leaning back against the potting bench with his arms crossed over his chest. "''Honestly''. Thread's not coming again for ''turns'', I don't see ''why'' we ought to get all stinking with firestone and ''disgustingly'' sweaty to flame ''fabric'' from the sky." He rolls his eyes, clearly not a fan of the exercise.
+R'co finishes planting the last pot, tucking the final little packet into the top, as he's done with each pot before to label them. He's clearly not ''hiding'' whatever it is he's planting - well, assuming what's written on the labels is the truth, of course. "It'd be far ''more'' win if I didn't have to drill for Taikrin's ''thread'' every other day." He rolls his eyes as he turns around to face Bones, leaning back against the potting bench with his arms crossed over his chest. "''Honestly''. Thread's not coming again for ''turns'', I don't see ''why'' we ought to get all stinking with firestone and ''disgustingly'' sweaty to flame ''fabric'' from the sky." He rolls his eyes, clearly not a fan of the exercise.
 Earlier discussion of the rider's workload went unnoticed, but now at the mention of Taikrin's name he perks up. "Wait, Taikrin?" He's not much for politics, but Taikrin is somebody he knows personally. "''Tai'' is runnin' you guys ragged? That don't sound much like her. She's a pretty easy going chick." One hand is let go from the rafter to rub at the back of his neck as he looks to the floor, trying to remember the last time he'd seen her. Not since Aishani declared her the Weyrleader. "... least that's how I remember her. Maybe I can snag a few minutes with her for old time's sake, see what's up."
-"The threadfall drills? Fighting fake thread out over the mountains and, well, ''everywhere''?" R'co seems surprised that Bones hasn't heard of it. "We're doing ''awful'' mock-falls ''all the time''. I've not met her ''personally'' yet, though I'm ''quite'' sure she's nothing like the rumours I heard at Ista." He treads carefully, droppng his hands to curl fingers around the edge of the bench behind him. "I know Aishani was ''far'' nicer than I'd heard. And even ''prettier'', too. Rumour is, after all, just that."
+"The threadfall drills? So we can fighting fake thread?" R'co seems surprised that Bones hasn't heard of it. "We're doing ''awful'' mock-falls ''all the time''. I've not met her ''personally'' yet, though I'm ''quite'' sure she's nothing like the rumours I heard at Ista." He treads carefully, droppng his hands to curl fingers around the edge of the bench behind him. "I know Aishani was ''far'' nicer than I'd heard. And even ''prettier'', too. Rumour is, after all, just that."
 Now things really ''are'' confusing to the gardener, who untethers his last free hand from the overhang and rubs his palms down his face. "Wait, so Taikrin's a bitch now, and Aishani is ''nice''? Aishani's a tunnel snake in a person-suit!" He gives a sigh of frustration. "Or maybe she ain't no more, I don't know. I've been trying hard to keep my nose out of politics."