Difference between revisions of "Logs:On The Prowl"

It's a busy night with most of Glacier's riders in wild attendance in the bar. They're crowding the card tables and the dart boards, making a general nuisance of themselves all around. As for one of their own, Jo's lounging up at the counter, her black riding leathers on and a beer in one hand as she watches the antics of her wing. She's not exactly joining them on the 'fun', putting herself apart from them despite some of the bronzeriders' raucous calls.

His entrance into the ranks of Reachian riders was a little memorable, maybe a little infamous, but talk revolving around the Istan rider has become old news by now, especially now that he's just another bronzerider after the much more interesting gold flight. Flights. H'vier has avoided getting into anymore fist fights and his face is back to its former glory minus the kink in the bridge of his nose that no one probably knew wasn't there in the first place. Tonight he's bundled up against the cold as he comes into the bar and heads for the counter, ending up a short ways down from Jo to order himself a predictable whiskey.

Jo's all kinds of observant tonite, despite her wingmates being far into their drinks and making fools of themselves. She tips the bottle upwards to drain her beer, then turns to face the counter and set the bottle down, just in time to catch H'vier arrive a little ways down from her. She regards him with her idle gaze like she's doing everyone else, and when she hears him ordering a whiskey for himself, she leans forward to try and catch the bartender's eye once he's done to be heard saying, "I'll have what he's havin', darlin'. Think I can use somethin' with just a bit more kick." Where he's bundled up against the cold as she observes, she looks like her riding leathers would be perfectly fine to ward any kind of chill. Yeah, right.

The bronzerider is not quite so observant at the moment, looking down into his glass when it arrives. But it's not hard to hear the bluerider and it draws his attention to what she asks for with a slow grin pulling at his lips. "A whiskey girl, is it?" he asks as he unwinds the scarf around his neck and unfastens his leather jacket, stuffing gloves into his pockets. "Very nice. You want me to pick that up for you, lovely?" Cost wise, presumably.

Laughter erupts from the Glacier riders as the bartender swoops down with her glass once he drops off the bronzerider's. Jo lifts it a bit in toast to the passing man before H'vier's words drift over and catches her sharp attention. She doesn't answer him right away, all messed up hair and dark eyes as she chooses to watch him with the scarf first. Bringing the glass around as she puts her back against the counter, "The harder, the better," is her response finally, now raising the drink his way briefly before she knocks a healthy dose of it back. Pitching her elbows to rest behind her now to his next, that gets her arched brow. "Lovely. Haven' heard that word associated with me since before I turned seventeen." It's almost deadpan, the way it's delivered, but she does incline her head a breath later and adds, "Like I would turn down the offer of a free whiskey. Yer generous." As in, she accepts.

"I like hearing that," says H'vier, not going so far as to take his jacket off just yet. The harder, the better indeed! He picks up his glass, lifts it slightly in the woman's direction and take a drink of his own. "That's a damned shame. Then again, generous isn't usually a word used to describe me, either." He has a grin to accompany that, distant as it turns after a moment before he's taking another drink. "H'vier," he adds as an afterthought, maybe not entirely sure offering his name is a great thing.

Jo's amused by his words, that much can be observed as she nods to that raised glass. "So we ain' 'lovely' and 'generous' then," she notes wryly. "Aren' we the pair tonite." His grin meets one a wolfish one from her, and the moment he offers his name....there's a pause as she regards him for a moment, and then low laughter. A long finger lifts briefly to point in his direction as she brings that glass to her lips, turning his way now as she says, "H'vier. Yer reputation proceeds ya, it seems. I think I might know about ya more than ya know about me." She takes a drink, then adds, "Jo, blue Tacuseth's lady. So yer the one I've been hearin' about." No accusation there, but a certain curiosity is present, studying the man openly from his head down to his toes boldly as she leans quite casually against that counter.

The pair of riders are at the counter a ways down from Glacier rowdiness. "Well, I'd still say you're lovely, darling." She'll just have to live with that! H'vier studies Jo curiously, in particular after she mentions his reputation and knowing anything about him. Very curious. Maybe a little suspicious. Surely a bronzerider from Ista has nothing to be suspicious for, though. "That so? I s'pose that'd be me, aye. What've you been hearing, then?" Because he can't not ask. That would just be strange.

"Flattery will either get ya far, or it might get ya into some trouble ya might like with me," Jo seems to warn, the smile just a tad shade predatory. She continues to study him now, whatever raucous laughter from her wingmates forgotten in light of his question. She knocks back the rest of the whiskey, draining her glass clean before she says, "Buy me another, H'vier, and you'll find me more willin' to answer." Just a hint of a tease, the convict rider turning only enough to set the empty glass down right between them. Her eyes never leaving his, hers with a hint of a challenge, "Think ya can indulge a thirsty woman?" she asks, deadpan, since he was so generous before.

Considering the noise of Glacier and the caliber of the two riders standing at the bar not far way, Vienne could either be completely unnoticeable or completely out of place. Take your pick. She comes into the Snowasis, a little doll bundled as usual in her tan wool coat, pausing to divest herself of various wooly accessories and then sliding through the raucus wingmates to find some space at the bar. Of course, Jo and H'vier are impossible to miss, given that one is enormous and the other one is, well, Jo. And it's too the other bluerider that Vienne smiles first, a great wide grin with her eyebrows high for all the activity around them. And then she looks to H'vier, alll the way up. Her eyes narrow faintly, no doubt placing him, but otherwise she doesn't yet seek to interrupt whatever they have going on. She's just going to order some klah, no spike.

It's not very hard to tell that H'vier has certain expectations with the whole drink thing, though his automatic pet names for Jo were probably hint enough. The bronzerider is still wearing his jacket, an unwound scarf around his neck, and he hasn't drained his own glass of whiskey just yet but he's more than willing to flag the bartender back down to top off Jo's glass. "Willing women are my favorite kind." Which, in hindsight, probably isn't that great of a pick up line. But he's not worried about that right now. He doesn't notice Vienne right away, focused on the other bluerider as he is. "So lets have it," he says, only then glancing over to where the small woman is, not above letting his gaze slide over her before his attention returns to Jo.

"And anyone willin', is mine," Jo is quick to counter, seeming to be just fine with taking the bronzerider for his marks and his expectations. Vienne's entrance does get her notice, for the convict rider pauses long enough to catch that bright smile. A hand lifts, fingers wiggling in a greeting since she's too far away for anything verbal, seeming to wait for the other bluerider to approach her for more. Once her drink is topped back off, she takes a healthy dose and then trains her piercing gaze on H'vier. After a moment's breath, "Yer an Istan, bronzeridin' transplant that likes to punch first, ask questions later," she goes for the summarization of what she's heard, a crooked smile lingering on her lips. "Brutish, they say." Her entertained look turns a tad pointed now, looking for some kind of confirmation, even though, as an afterthought, "Even saw how ya busted up some friends I know."

Okay, so Vienne might not be interrupting, but she will listen. Which means that H'vier's awesome pick up line has her arching her brows to herself, smirking: a clear 'oh really' face that would seem to be inspired by nothing. And without realizing his eyes are on her, she does give him a bit more to look at when she shrugs her coat off, not that the gray sweater she wears is anything to get excited about. Unless that prim look does it for him. But as she waits, she catches Jo's description of the man in front of her, Vienne's guesses confirmed, and when her klah does arrive and it sounds like the pair are, perhaps, not actually about to run off and get warm together somewhere, she slips toward them. Her eyes are on H'vier, even though she speaks to the bluerider. "So this is H'vier, hm?" Her grin teases and then she glances at Jo with the suggestive, questioning lift of an eyebrow.

Eyes narrow at that first comment of Jo's, trying to judge exactly what she means by that and not entirely sure whether or not he approves. Instead of focusing there, though, the bronzerider nurses his own whiskey more slowly than the bluerider deals with hers. And H'vier's expression goes neutral as she continues on about him. "Aye. Sounds about right." Then his grin his flickering back and he asks, "You like that sort of thing, don't you? You look the sort." It's amazing he ever gets laid sometimes, really. Vienne's proximity and, more importantly, her saying his name turns his head briefly back to her. "That it is. And you're a pretty little thing, aren't you."

Jo eyes that neutral expression and her own smirk hitches up by a point. His confirmation? "Especially the brute part, huh?" Could be a tease, that. She studies his face in particular before noting, "Ya look healed up alright, save for yer nose. Like to get physical, doncha?" Yeah, she knows exactly how that sounds. It could very well have double meaning despite the fact that it's his nose she's looking at. As for looking the sort, the bluerider tosses errant strands of hair from her face as she counters in banter, "And sort do I look like?" Not answering his. When Vienne approaches, she turns a fraction to include the other bluerider, H'vier answers her question before she does and she takes that moment to drink. His compliment to Vienne gets a short chuckle from her, and she adds, "That she is, and, I think she knows it." She doesn't look to be making any introductions, perhaps expecting the bluerider to do so on her own.

It's just too easy, really, for Vienne to slip into the character of pretty little thing. She sets her weight to one hip, even if it's partially sheilded by the jacket over her arm, she tips her head to one side to show H'vier her cheek, the corner of her best, sly smile. And so she very much embodies Jo's description: knowing it. "Igen," she denotes herself for H'vier, since it's probably more likely that the bronzerider has heard rumors of the other transfers and where they're from, rather than their names. But then again, maybe he hasn't and it's just weird. "And you," she says, turning her attention to Jo, slinking closer to her with far more overt flirtation than she's ever bothered with in the past, "Look like a fire in the dark. Gleaming and dangerous, and all too attractive for little moths." She nearly purrs the words and there's a glint in her eye to see if Jo will catch on.

"Oh, I dunno about all that." A brute. H'vier feigns some tiny bit of offense to that accusation. Which pretty much fades entirely as he agrees about getting physical in the most expected way possible, "I can be real gentle. If that's what you want. But that's not what you want, is it. You look like the sort that likes it hard and rough. With hair-pulling and biting. But you--" H'vier turns his attention back over to Vienne and probably had something nicely inappropriate to say but her words give him pause. The bronzerider ends up staring at her for a few long moments, not quite frowning, maybe slightly interested in the implication.

Jo appears slightly amused by H'vier's response on the brute comment, and yes, his complete and total choice to take her question of getting physical down south seems to amuse her all the more. She doesn't even correct him, going along and letting him talk. A brows lifts a fraction at the end of his assessment of her, and she lets her gaze travel down him slowly before meeting his eyes again. "And ya can figure all that out with just my dashin' smile and my willingness to take yer generosity?" She's not denying what he says, choosing the banter over revealing any of her cards. And really, she looks interested to hear that inappropriate thing he was going to pin to Vienne....only then she finds the bluerider up in her space, her purred words stunning her for just a moment. She even takes a brief look towards Vienne's mug to see for sure what she's drinking, and darting something mildly surprised at their bronzeriding companion, "I think he's one second away from hightailin' it outta here," she muses, recovering her bravado as she catches that glint in her eyes. "Or he's aroused. I can' decide which." She sounds so serious. Really.

Vienne is still looking at Jo when H'vier starts talking, and though what he has to say might not be expected exactly, the little bluerider doesn't fluster and she doesn't blush. She just keeps her glance on Jo and lets her teeth sink into her lip. And she takes a long, slow breath, all the better for lifting her chin and letting her lashes sink low. "Maybe he's thinking about us. You and me." She lets her lips part just so, like she's thinking about it, too, but that's for H'avier's benefit, and the spark of amusement in her eyes is for Jo. "If he's scared already, he'll never be able to handle you." Then, altogether, she turns back to the towering bronzerider as if these little asides never happened. "But me?" she asks with an extra does of innocence, waiting for him to finish his doubtlessly inappropriate thought, just too curious to let it go.

"Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. But seems like most of your type," H'vier glances between both blueriders so one might think he means them, "Like things a little heavy. Suppose most women do, deep down." On whether he's thinking about running off or aroused, it's pretty obviously the latter more than the former. Though not that obviously. Yet. "But you... maybe I have you pegged wrong, gorgeous. You're not really into the likes of her, are you?" With a brief glance back at Jo. "Not that I wouldn't watch. But I'm sure I could give you a ride you wouldn't forget. One that'd leave you wanting more." Because she totally needs a big, strong man to turn her from her... okay, they're pretty sexy ways, admittedly.

"I ain' most, "Jo is quick to separate herself from the masses, that dash of arrogance and bravado present in her low tone. "In case ya haven' noticed." She'll give H'vier that chance to, though she's at leisure to add now, "But ya got some points right, bronzerider. Ya enjoy the innuendo," she notes, not mincing words. "Wonder what else ya enjoy. Whiskey, for sure. Fightin', for another." She's curious. Definitely. Vienne's words certainly have her amused - well, surprised, but amused - enough to have her saying, "Ya are unusually inappropriate tonite, Vienne." It's a comment, and there's no disapproval in her voice. She could say more, really, but, H'vier has more interesting things to say - mainly, his selling of himself over Jo. Warm laughter actually is all that greets that, finally knocking back her whiskey with a shake of her head. For once, the convict rider is actually not saying anything crass. She does say though, "This is good whiskey."

Vienne pouts at H'vier. "Is that all?" she asks before conferring her disappointment toward Jo. "I was hoping I'd get a whole explanation. You got one." But with her exaggerated sigh, at least she drops the teasing act, telling the bluerider, "I'm apparently not very good at it." Then she's content to sip her klah and let her gaze slide across the busy bar. Someone in the distance catches her eye, so it would seem that Jo isn't the only friend the Igen transplant has made, but it's to the other bluerider that she turns first, "You really are like a fire, though," punctuating that promise with a quiet smile, no cheeky grin, no conspiring light in her eye. And then to H'vier, bolder, "Well, I feel like we've met now. I can check that off my list." He does get one of those impish grins, and then she's ready to turn off toward that friend she spied across the way.

"I enjoy all sorts of things," is what the bronzerider settles on, attention perhaps a little torn between the pair of blueriders. It's Vienne in particular that he focuses on, though, a touch confused in a way that he probably wouldn't want to admit if he even knew how to admit it. "Right," is his brilliant response and H'vier's gaze follows, slipping down slightly, as Vienne turns to go before he's glancing back at Jo with narrowed eyes. "Are you... ?" It's an open-ended question.

Jo's watching them both, though it's Vienne in particular that her attention shifts to when she speaks and heads off. That comment about fire, and about having met the bronzerider is taken in stride, though there's a touch mixture of interest and bemusement she doesn't really voice as she drawls out in the bluerider's wake, "See ya around, Vienne." She watches her as H'vier does, but her gaze is back to his when he poses that open-ended question. She knocks back the last of her drink before she can answer, back to her casual lean and easy demeanor. "I don' hold to labels, darlin'," is her answer laced with bravado and liquor. "Not my style. Got a problem with that?" A little challenging again, the faint traces of a smirk curving her lips and never ebbing away throughout.

"A problem?" H'vier has the grace to sound confused, if not entirely sincerely so, about that question. "Of course not. Why would I have a problem with that? Darling." Come on now, that's his word, too. "If you have some pretty little thing on call, we could all take it back to my weyr. Or yours. And have a much nicer night than we're gonna have down here, aye?" He lifts his glass to down the rest of his whiskey before adding, "Or it could just be us."

Of course he didn't. The return answer seems to please Jo, though as she sets the glass down on the counter, "I can see it now. You and me, on the prowl for the same women to take back up," she muses as she straightens up, her tall height close to his. She turns to consider him for a moment before she's says, "Ya don' sweet-talk do ya." Not really a question. But her smile's winsome as she steps away from the counter, adding wryly, "As much as I would love to see if ya can keep up," with her, apparently, "I've actually got a long night ahead of me already." She regards his eyes for a moment with that lingering smile before adding, "I'm sure we'll see other again. I'm around. Thanks for the drinks. I owe ya." She could be a tease, but at least the last sounds genuine.

"Sweet talk is for sweet girls." And H'vier seems to have decided that Jo is not one of those. A grin graces his scruffy face and he's not shy about looking her up and down as she steps away from the counter. "Well, then. Good luck with that, darling. I'll remember." He says the last, lifting a finger to tap against his temple. Oh, yes, she owes him.

"Perceptive," Jo observes on the first, for she certainly wasn't. And if she's noting H'vier looking her up and down, she certainly doesn't seem to mind. She's done that to him already, earlier. His last gets her rakish laughter and she heads out, suggestive as always, but her amusement lingering in her wake.