Difference between revisions of "Logs:Brazen"

As afternoon fades into the early evening hours the Snowasis becomes a hub of activity with riders and residents all seeking a drink and good company after the day's work. Most of the tables are full but there are a few comfortable spaces left empty, and perched at the bar with an empty glass sits the former Nabolese candidate, with a folio of documents she seems to be half reading, more interested in people watching than working outside records room hours. "Another white please?" She asks the bartender as he passes, with a slight smile.

When H'vier arrives, he's still wearing his flight leathers. They're in somewhat more casual disarray than they might be if he were actually on duty, though, so it's likely that he's just getting off. The bar is the perfect place to come and unwind, and H'vier is here on a rather regular basis. He comes to the counter near where Edyis is sitting but it's not her that his attention gravitates toward immediately. When the bartender brings back her drink, he asks the man, "Tayte's not working tonight?" And he looks annoyed when the answer is a chilly no.

Edyis lifts her gaze from the paperwork, and neatly pushes them aside when her wine, and the rider arrives. H'vier is regarded curiously but it's the bartender's response which is more carefully regarded. Thumbing through the papers, she finds herself listening to the conversation between rider and the barkeep, pretending at least to be doing work.

Unfortunately for Edyis, the conversation doesn't last particularly long. H'vier orders a drink, pointing out that it better not be watered down. There's no threat to go along with an 'or else,' though. It's not until the tender is off making him a drink that H'vier seems to pay any attention to his surroundings. Of those surroundings, he eyes Edyis in particular. She's right there. It's pretty easy to focus on her.

There's a glance as the barkeep goes off, and again she's left with very little to go on. A gulp of wine once she realizes she is being eyed, the papers get set aside. "I don't believe we have been introduced, I'm Edyis, and you are?" She errors on the side of formally polite and probably hopes it doesn't come across as extremely socially awkward.

"The best things that'll happen to you all day," says H'vier without missing a beat. He even offers the girl a charming smile. It's the sort of smile he probably shouldn't be offering girls. But that doesn't stop him. "H'vier. Bronze Reisoth's." Because that sort of thing is important to point out, obviously. "You were one of the candidates, right? Lucky for me, you didn't impress." That sounds like a pick up line.

A girlish grin' plays over her lips, "Is that right?" A more curious study, innocent in nature is performed. Dark eyes making notes of small details, the line is regarded with warm laughter. "It's possibly better for everyone that I didn't impress. Bronze hm? I guess the stories about you all being charmers set to steal good little girls from their holds are true." The words are tinged with humor as she twirls her glass before taking another sip.

When his drink arrives, H'vier settles in somewhat less temporarily. "Some of us are more charming than others. But I suppose there's truth behind every stereotype, isn't there. I think I'd say seduce over steal, though. Stealing sounds like it might be against your will." But she's right here, quite of her own accord.

"There is that distinction I suppose, and I certainly wasn't forced to stay. I chose it." There is an element of quiet pride in the word chose. "I'm sure the men will use the term steal, if only purely for intimidation." If not of the riders of the great beasts themselves, Farnath knows she's intimidated by them. "What about you, Reachian born and bred, or did you hail from hold or hall before Reisoth claimed you for his own?"

"Some women seem to like the intimidating factor," he muses. It's something he probably likes, in fact. "Istan, actually. Cot hold. But I went to the Weyr young and never left. Transferred here a few turns back now. Still not sure I'm used to the winters." H'vier takes a drink, something to help keep him warm from the memories of snow. "But I go back often enough. Otherwise I forget how miserable the weather there can be, too."

Edyis chuckles. "I'm sure some do." Whether or not she is one of them she leaves to his imagination. "Holder boy, never would have guessed that. Were you always this brazen?" She teases, then with something akin to longing, "Never been to Ista myself, what is it like there? Aside from you know, the whole lack of snow and ice."

"Holder boy might be pushing it," says H'vier, though he doesn't explain why that might be the case. "You think I'm brazen, do you?" He seems pleased by the possibility, eyeing her with something more than curiosity. "It's hot. And physical. Fun, in my opinion. I could take you sometime."

"Is it the term boy you object to, or holder?" Dark eyes trace the lines of his face with interest. "Careful, I may take you up on that offer, there is a lot of world out there and I want to see all of it." Smirking as she returns the glass to her lips, "What do you mean by physical?" Trying to fix an image of the place in her mind.

"Holder, I suppose. But I don't think I can be mistaken for either holder or boy at this point." So it's all good. H'vier studies her in turn for a few moments. "I go there often enough. Taking someone else wouldn't be that big of deal. I can't promise I'd escort you the whole time. But a ride there and a ride back, I can do that." He's so helpful like that. "I think you'd understand if you visited. I'm not sure I can explain it. I think it's because people wear fewer clothes." He sounds serious.

Her head tilts, contemplating the reaction. "Holds serve as much function as weyrs, It should hardly be an offensive term." This is spoken without arrogance, more a statement of personal sentiment. For not being escorted there's a smile, "I think I can handle myself reasonably well. " She seems puzzled at mention of the lack of clothes, but tries to mask the expression.

"Don't pretend to lecture me on the merits of Holds versus Weyrs, kid. I've got, what, twenty turns on you?" H'vier gives her a look that suggests there's almost nothing she could tell him that he doesn't already know. He doesn't bother lingering on that subject, though. "Oh, I'm sure you do. Try not to visit while it's raining, anyway. Not as much fun."

"Don't pretend to lecture me on the merits of Holds versus Weyrs, kid. I've got, what, twenty turns on you?" H'vier gives her a look that suggests there's almost nothing she could tell him that he doesn't already know. He doesn't bother lingering on that subject, though. "Oh, I'm sure you do. Try not to visit while it's raining, anyway. Not as much fun."

"Who said anything about lectures?" She intones softly before shrugging. "Something I will keep in mind, for expeditions in the future. Enjoy your drink. " The last of the wine drained as she collects her papers, and slips from the bar stool.

H'vier rolls his eyes and doesn't do much to hide it. It's around the first comment that he stops paying attention to the girl. His drink might not talk to him, but eventually he can drink enough where it might as well be able to.