Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Facade"

There's an amiable game of darts in progress, which seems to have split down the lines of wing versus wing. Savannah's mostly represented by its greenriders, while Glacier's brownriders seem to have taken up their mantle. Nearby, R'hin's leaning against the bar, a half-consumed glass of dark colored liquid close to his hand. He's looking in the direction of the game, though with a kind of distance that suggests he's not paying that close attention to it.

Finished with her turn at watch duty, Alida finds the need to warm herself up with a few stiff drinks, and so it's the Snowasis for her after Ilicaeth's dropped her off just outside the proper ledge...the blue then winging higher and higher in the sky until he simply pops Between for somewhere on his own. That's a little different, for a dragon. No matter, his lifemate seems unconcerned as she weaves in and out of 'traffic,' her riding jacket, helmet, and other outerwear having been left behind on a wall peg just as she entered the place. Her skin pinkened from the deep chill of the evening, the bluie finally steps up before the bar, and lifts one hand to catch the 'tender's attention for a moment, then letting her green gaze do a more detailed roaming of her surroundings. R'hin and Savannah Wing aren't easy to miss, and as she awaits her turn being served, the blonde shifts postion to step up beside the bronzer and murmur just barely loud enough for him to hear, "Welcome home, ol' man." Her alto is touched with dark humor, and the woman's features sprinkled with a light dollop of caustic wit.

There's a dark chuckle from said old man, and he pauses before finally turning, pale gaze taking in the bluerider. "And here I was expecting a pretty dress, pom poms, or at the very least, a congratulatory glass of something expensive," R'hin says, as if disappointed. Today, he does look old -- there's a tenseness in his demeanor that gives him a tired looking cast. "Your wing is about to get trounced," he adds, with a tip of head to indicate the dart game in progress.

Alida finally does smile some, though the expression is also touched with a darkly knowing cast, her braided and bunned head shaking in a mock-regretful manner to match R'hin's jest in kind. "How about this, then? You buy me one fer a well-tended Watch duty where I nearly froze my pom poms off, an' I'll nab *you* the next so you c'n drown half yer current woes." Snerk. As for Glacier... "Any greenhorn knows brownies 'r rarely as dextrous as blues 'n greens." It's at this point that the bartender zips over, and inquires of her her choice of poison.

"That doesn't really seem like a fair deal, since I'm the visitor." Even though that's no longer true, it's a line R'hin keeps going on to keep the conversation light, despite the flicker of something in pale gaze before he glances back to his own drink. "Yes, well... what applies to the dragons doesn't necessarily apply to the riders. I've met some very... dexterous... brownriders indeed." He quickly drains what's left of his liquid, nudging the empty glass towards the bartender as he arrives. "Make that two," he says, before Alida can order. "If... she's up for it?" a lift of brow in the Glacier rider's direction.

"Not anymore..." Alida notes dryly in rebuttal to R'hin's visitor status, her mouth half-tipping into a meager little smirk filled with jaded nuances. "And I've met some very... 'introverted and down-ta-earth' bronzeriders..." is added quietly. And the woman's suddenly unable to contain her inner mirth, giving a loud bark of wry laughter at her own oxymoron. There's a hint of a half-mock glower for the man's ordering his drink first, but 'lida finally does relent with a nod to the bartender and a murmured, "Whiskey sour," before flicking those incisive eyes back to the man. Quietly, with more honesty and less humor this round, she murmurs, "How's Savannah takin' it?" Oh yes, she knows. How could she not...especially given her former line of work.

Whether it's the dry tone, or the jaded nuances -- R'hin's expression tightens briefly at Alida's response. Rather than wait for a toast, he gulps down half his drink, head tipping to regard the bluerider at her latter question. "The weather is cold. We don't much like the snow." He's well aware she's not asking about their take on the weather, but that is a deliberate and pointed sidestep. "But we are.... content. For now." The slight emphasis suggests he doesn't use the word in it's traditional manner.

Again, she's a Guard, and those subtleties of expression are open volumes for Alida to read, interpret. A small twist of lips at R'hin's answer lets him know she understands that he's sidestepping, and that she'll let him get away with it... for the moment, a sip of her arriving drink soon making the bluerider smile in some relief as the liquor warms her innards. "Content..." is then noted blandly, green eyes shifting from Wingleader to those playing darts, then drifting back again to more present company. "The more things change... the more they stay the same." Sip. "I was rarely one fer lettin' things carry on undisturbed." Her own slight emphasis on that 'I' might give R'hin food for thought.

Behind them, there's some cheering (and jeering) as the game of darts comes to an end, negotiations made for the round's drinks and the next round's prizes. R'hin's pale gaze doesn't stray from the bluerider, however. "Really. I hadn't observed that about you." It is, perhaps, invitation for her to speak further on the subject. That or he's baiting her -- and either is just as likely as the other when it comes to the ex-Monacoan.

The bluerider has a small, but honest bit of a grin for her fellow Wingmates and their loss at the game beyond, but she's much much more interested in what's going on right before her. R'hin's comment earns him a slender smirk and a 'suuure you didn't' bit of a look, her next sip of liquor soon transitioning into a quiet yet direct, "You *ever* let that facade down at all?"

"Rarely," R'hin admits quickly and honestly, followed with the retort: "Do you?"

"Not often... but it's worth it sometimes, with the right people..." Alida murmurs, finally polishing off the rest of her whiskey sour, then peering pointedly at R'hin. "*Yer* turn..." is huffed softly, the blonde then factoring in a quick, "As long as it's decent quality and not beer 'r wine."

A slight grunt from R'hin doesn't really give much clue as to whether the bronzerider agrees with her sentiment or not. "As if I'd drink anything less than good quality," he replies with look. When his nod eventually brings the bartender their way, he says, "That bottle on the top shelf, third from the left. I think," after a speculative look at Alida, "Only a couple of fingers. Just to be safe." Is he mocking her? Probably.

Non-commital... just her style. A small roll of eyes at R'hin's grunt soon slips into a small wrinkle of nose and soft 'tsk'ing for those pair of fingers he orders for her. "Ain't gonna work, ol' man." To the 'tender: "Make it four fingers..." though she does turn her head back to the bronzer out of politeness. He might be too cash strapped right now, given Savannah's precipitous departure. "Does bein' here again bring back any memories?"

A twist of lips at her correction, though R'hin doesn't seem surprised, nodding towards the bartender. He fills glasses for both of them -- the liquid is an odd shade, a brilliant sort of green. "Only of impertinent blueriders of ages past." As if there's a long sort of list. He lifts his glass, and waits for her to do the same before he tips it back. The liquid is strong, even for one well-used to drinking: it burns on the way down, and lingers after, but it definitely takes the chill out.

"Absinthe, right?" Alida inquires straightforwardly at R'hin's lip twist, the woman sounding like she knows what she's getting into. "Impertinent?" the blonde inquires in mix of mock-hurt and small surprise. "Do tell..." Those two words aren't mocking at all, contrarly to her former ones. When she sips testingly from that green liquor, hopefully the bluie will know what she's imbibing.

"It's from the same source but, this brand is distilled in a slightly different way." R'hin regards the glass with a favorable smile that fades quickly. "Impertinent," he agrees. "Impudent, smartass. I'd imagine these terms were thrown about you like confetti at Pars, no? Though -- given the caliber of men, I'd say they were far less erudite in their descriptions."

"Well then... here's ta callin' it at *this*..." Alida notes with a faint grin and tip of chin down to her own glass of liquor, her sips sparing so as to let her take in as much taste, bite, and warmth as possible. "Worth the wait..." Mm-mm good! As for her manner, "Yep." Green eyes twinkle darkly for a moment before her lips part to say something, then close again as whatever it was that almost emerged is decided against. Instead, "Even these days, female guards 're a rarer breed... and most male guards never let us ferget it." Is that a hint of old, smouldering anger and bitterness in her quiet voice?

"I Impressed with a female guard. She was quite... enjoyable to wind up. Habit makes one easy to guide." R'hin's voice is amused, though whether he's merely sharing or warning her is hard to determine. "It makes one predictable. But... the thing about a hot fire -- it often produces a quality blade at the end."

She's honestly enjoying this 'conversation' with R'hin at this point, and though Alida's gaze does flick about - out of habit - on occasion, it always resumes right back on his face soon enough. There's a cocky bit of a grin touching the corners of her mouth by this point, and more warming liquor entering her bloodstream makes the often distant woman open up a bit more. "Who was that, if I can be so bold as ta' ask?" Smirkie. "Ahh, habit. So easy ta assume, so potentially deadly...especially t' my ilk." Beat. "Riders ain't immune, either." Is she twisting words? Sip...grin. "Kinda' like the way a blacksmith c'n fold the metal over 'n over on itself, makin' the blade tougher, yet thinner and sharper all at once." Suddenly her grin fades, and green eyes flick back out to the game of darts beyond them. Murmured quietly: "After it's hammered."

"Tell you? And ruin the surprise when you find the information yourself?" R'hin lifts a finger, waggling it vaguely in Alida's direction as he clucks his tongue in disappointment. "I know how you work. The chase is half the fun." That game of darts has resumed, with the Savannah riders imbibing their winnings -- which might well make the next round a little more even. When her gaze flickers away, the bronzerider's remains on hers, pale eyes even.

"Contrary ta popular opinion, we guards really don't mind when information just falls nicely inta our laps, sometimes..." Alida notes almost gravely, then shaking off her mood as she simply continues to look into R'hin's own pale eyes for some long, quiet moments. After a few more sips are quaffed, she continues in muted fashion, "Heard you 'n K'del chart basically parallel courses..." The green liquor in her glass is studied for a few moments. "You don' strike me as havin' near-as-much need ta be a shinin' paragon as he does." Sip. "Gut feelin', uv' course."

"You might not mind, but it's not quite as enjoyable," R'hin repeats, which seems to suggest he's leaving it up to her to find out. A twitch of brows at her mention of K'del, to which the bronzerider says, "He's a good man. Wants to do right by the Weyr. I admire that -- it's admirable." A beat, "One can work towards a similar goal in different ways."

She had to try. A small shrug of shoulders and another small sip of her drink soon find Alida observing R'hin's reaction to her words of K'del, the blonde remaining quite neutral of features during such, a faint bob of her pale head following them. "Since yer here fer good - at least until Monaco's senior goes up again -" sip "...I'm curious about yer' 'style' uv leadership." Beat. "Especially since I might wind up workin' with ya' at some point in time." A bit of raised brows encourage the bronzerider to elucidate.

A flicker of a reaction at her mention of the Monaco senior, but it's an odd reaction: R'hin chortles for a moment. "My style of leadership? Mm. Are you thinking of defecting?" He's amused: he doesn't for a second seem to think that's the case. Another roar of noise from the darts pulls his attention away, and he straightens. "Drink up. We have a game to join."

"Seemed a pretty straight-forward question..." Alida notes glibly to R'hin's chortle and reverse-inquiry. Perhaps just to floor him, the woman responds casually, "I've done it once before..." Siiigh. "Yer gonna make me read all that borin' crap in the records about your tenure here..." the bluie mutters even as the bronzerider yet again adriotly sidesteps answering her by dragging her into the game of darts. Mutter-grumble. She does join in for once, however, and if R'hin hangs around long enough to notice, she'll perform her task of dart-tossing admirably well. Maybe she's used to flinging sharp instruments at small targets.

"I'm going to make you work for it," R'hin agrees glibly, and with far too much enjoyment. He takes the position of one of the greenriders, and he plays well enough, though certainly not exceptionally -- this time Glacier wins, though just barely. If he threw the match, he did it adeptly, since Savannah lose with grace. Somewhere after the round of drinks is bought by the ex-Monacoans, their Wingleader slips away.