Difference between revisions of "Logs:Exceptions To The Rules"

As usual, it's easy to catch Jo in the late evening, especially when she's getting in for the rest of the night. She's in the process of unfastening her leather jacket as Tacuseth has settled into his couch, his eyes always facing outwards on alert. On the table she drops a hidebound packet that sounds like marks and a small stacked and folded sheet of hides beside it, those all having been concealed within the inner pockets of her jacket. The pale yellow halter dress she wore to the turnover event is hanging against the wall where the map is, and she busies herself with the press at the foot of her wide bed.

The sound of Tsanth's light-for-a-bronze form catching his talons on her outer ledge is the initial warning that the pair has arrived. There's of course the usual polite greeting from one to the other as Z'ian's life partner gets himself settled in for the long wait. He knows it's going to probably be awhile. The rider heads into her inner sanctum, pushing aside the heavy drapery before slipping the rest of the way in. He taps his hand against the stone of the wall, "Evening, Jo." Since it's tradition by this point, that he's hefting a bottle should come as no huge surprise. "Open for company?" He asks with an easy smile even as he begins to work on the top buttons of his witer riding jacket.

Tacuseth sends out his fond greeting to the bronze - hey, he was quite used to Tsanth by now! - but doesn't bother to tell his rider that Z'ian was on his way in. She'll figure it out. When she hears that tapping sound, Jo whips around from the press to find the bronzerider there with the customary bottle. For him, he gets the easy crooked smirk that was tinged with the tiredness of being out all night, and she drops the lid to her press shut to straighten up. She approaches him with that sauntering gait that's familiar of her, the tall woman reaching his personal space to draw a hand down the front of whatever's underneath his riding jacket. "Evenin'," she drawls back then, eyes drinking the sight of him in first before they're being turned on towards that bottle. "Ya must be welcome, if Tac doesn' even bother to tell me yer here," she answers that with humor before she takes a step back to let him further into her weyr. She takes a run by the table to collect up the pouch and folded sheets, saying over her shoulder, "From the bottle, or is this a civilized drop-in?" The customary question becoming tradition between them, even though now the parameters of the game has changed.

A flash of amusement takes hold on his face, Z'ian uttering a short laugh at the way she whips around. He glances quickly over his shoulder towards the ledge, turning back to her with a smirk. "He's probably been talking to our other friend out there too much. I hear whispers sometimes," The bronzerider taps one finger to his temple. "of them speaking now and again through the day. One sided of course. Sounds like a Tsanth move." Underneath? Just that long sleeved red shirt that he's been wearing entirely too much of lately. It's a new favorite. His eyes flicker down to follow the line of her finger before he shrugs his jacket off. That gets hung up by her yellow dress from Turnover. Crossing the space to her table he unscrews the cap from the bottle, "From the bottle. I hate making dirty glasses for you. Unless you're just wiping them out with a cloth...?" He ends the drawn out question with a joking lift of his eyebrows. His attention briefly flits to the sheets and pouch, though as usual there's no spoken comment for them. Merely noted mentally as he pulls one of her chairs out.

"They've been hangin' out too much with each other," Jo seems to warn with amusement, a look going towards that unseen ledge as she pauses her steps towards that press. Eyes take in his red shirt just then as jerks her chin as she asks, "Somethin' significant with that shirt? Noticed ya wear it a lot." She watches Z'ian take the jacket off, hang it up and return to her table, his response on the bottle getting a wry shrug and, "We can do uncivilized. In fact I'm more than willin' to push ya back on my bed right now and have my wicked way with ya, but," and she pauses, shifting her weight almost playfully, "somethin' tells me this is a social call." Not a question. She was about to turn back to her press with the pouch when his eyes touch on what she holds and she drops her gaze to them for a moment. Flicking a look up his way, she lifts the pouch, the distinct sound of marks hitting each other could be heard as she states, "Payment, darlin'. This girl doesn' work outside for free." There's a pause and she then lifts the sheet of hides to add, "This, is more or less the reason why we were late to the turnover party. And I got some tracking information on Deetan." By the sour look on her face, it's not exactly good results. Then she turns, opens the lid and drops both right on top of the folded clothes seen there before the lid is dropped.

"I think they're both enjoying the mutual exchange of ideas. Tsanth has too many of them on his own. That and gossip." If his gaze drifts back to the ledge again, it's more towards where his own dragon would be than Tacuseth. Her commentary on his shirt has him glancing down though, plucking the front of it away from his chest a bit. "What? I just happen to like it a lot. It's got buttons on the sleeves so I can roll the-" Z'ian catches himself on the verge of going falling into an overly detailed explanation of why he's wearing the red shirt. "In short, no particular reason. But if you want to rip it off me and be uncivilized, I'll only object long enough to make it really hot." His smile turns lopsided and he drops down into the chair, even as his expression is transitioning to something more serious at her explanation. "Sorry, I was trying not to pry." He pauses and purses his mouth, drawing it to the side. "I get that you probably don't want to talk about your work. You know," Another gap in speech as he looks for the right way to continue. "With me? With someone like me." He doesn't look quite pleased with how that came out, so he's soon shaking his head. "Never mind. Tracking formation on Deetan? So does that mean you were able to hunt down the other two or...?" And as for the whole point of tonight, aside from her companionship, "It's always at least part social call with us." He starts with a quick laugh and follows with, "But there's something else too. You heard the rumors about K'del and Telgar?" Cap off of the bottle he drinks from the bottle and slide it across to her when she reaches the table.

Looking to the ledge at that first, "Gossip, huh?" Jo muses on that one, alittle pensive and dubious. "What ya think they would talk about, anyway? I mean, Tac hardly tells me what he's sayin' when he's mackin' up the greens around here..." She turns back to Z'ian, then, his explanation on his shirt getting a wry, "That's cute, even for ya, Zach. Don' tempt me on rippin' anythin' off." She'll do it. Doesn't take much for her to, as well. She moves to drop into a chair at the table, scooting it back so that she could drop her crossed booted feet on her side of the table as he speaks on her business. She studies him from that angle, then her chin drops as she asks, "When yer gonna stop apologizin' for everythin', huh? Ya didn' even pry! I supplied the information. It was safe enough to." She pauses then when he speaks further on it, his frown causing her narrow her eyes just a fraction before she falls predictably silent. Her study on him intensifies before she says, "It's not what ya think. It's not you, really, just..." for the moment, she looks frustrated, briefly looking away. Conflicted. Carefully choosing her words now, "I do trust ya, Zach. That ain' it. Some things are....sensitive. Ain' mine to tell, ya know? I do stuff for people....and, it ain' all good and decent." Having looked away as she said it, she steals a look at him now to gauge his reaction. Then, to turn it to something humorous, she permits a corner of her mouth to lift as she adds, "But, ya already know that I ain' a good and decent sort of girl." The convict rider clears her throat and moves on, grunting on Deetan as she leans over for that bottle. "Haven' had the time to follow up on Kin and Bareta," she says drolly, "and Deetan seems to have vanished off Pern. Sources have dried up for the moment. Vanished around the time I went lookin' for those two. Now I've gotta wait till one of'em's surface again." She's not too happy about it neither. Her grin falls easy on him with her intense gaze when Z'ian speaks about social calls, but it's when he puts K'del and Telgar in the same sentence that some of that grin falters. Taking the bottle up and drinking a good dose of it, "What, that's a rumor now?" she puts out there, frowning. "I mean, yeah, but it ain' really a rumor. Got the words from a source I ran into over there myself." 'Source' being a barmaid. "What of it?"

"He doesn't repeat most of it back to me, I just get the echos. Tsanth thinks way too much for me to keep up and I don't think he remembers most of it himself. Sounds like guy talk to me, from what I can glean." Z'ian's gaze detaches, touching base with the bronze outside. "Hot greens. Really hot golds. Hraedhyth is hot. Being smarter than everyone else. Big plans. Small plans. A lot of it sounds like him. I can't tell what's Tacuseth or not." He doesn't exactly get an unbiased opinion when he reaches out to his own dragon after all. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head and returns back to their own conversation. That admonishment catches him and he glances away, taking a breath. "Probably not anytime soon, it's a bad habit. I feel like I am, even if I'm not actually saying anything." He offers, keeping his eyes fixed at a point on her wall while she responds. There's a flash of regret on his face before he speaks again, "I'm so-" He takes a breath, exhaling and bringing his focus back around to her once more. "That's not it, I'm not... I don't worry about you trusting me, I know that you do or I feel like you do. It's just that I get you have a line that you won't or really, can't cross. That's alright, it is. I promise that, okay?" He reaches out and puts his fingers to the crook of her elbow briefly. At the part about being good and decent, he chuckles low and ducks his head. "Jolie, you aren't the only person in my life that's doing things that aren't healthy for them. I understand the life, the draw to it at least. Even if I haven't gone there." It's a little slip of a peek into the private part of his life that he keeps tucked away, something he notices and has him clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Sounds like a slippery bastard. Maybe he got rid of the other two so they couldn't lead you to where he is now." Her response to his question has him narrowing his eyes at her, "You? Are you one of the ones this is originating from? Jo." The bronzerider takes a steadying breath and cuts the admonishment short, putting his hand out for the bottle. "What of it? I hope you didn't give your source too much for that information." Alright, alright. Cutting it short. "I got a different story. My brother, the big important 'I'm-a-successful-Mastermith' one- He knows a guy at Telgar Weyr. A rider with ears."

Jo's eyes get that look that suggests she's in communication with her blue, the convict rider then glancing towards the ledge as Z'ian speaks on them both. Snorting once her eyes are back in focus, "All the plans and bein' smarter sounds like Tac, alright," she notes to that with a press of her lips. "And the hot greens. Never seem all that interested in the golds, though." Still, she's studying him on the 'life' - the business - a talk she rarely has with anyone outside the convict riders she hangs with. When he looks away, "I don' want ya beatin' yerself up over somethin' like this," she says quietly on him apologizing, a brow lifting as she tries to catch his gaze. "Shit like this...just is, ya know?" To his touch, and his understanding of the life, "Oh yeah? Who?" she's interested now, regarding him anew. Taking another drink before passing the bottle back, "So ya understand the draw, huh?" she muses aloud, nodding slowly as she draws a finger idly along her bottom lip. "To this life." Silence meets, this revelation something she's clearly mulling over. A peek into his private life indeed, something that she isn't going to forget anytime soon. On Deetan, fingers flick in a gesture of her frustration there, but the bluerider simply states darkly with a click of her teeth as she leans back, "I'll get them. Just a matter of when and how. I've got some ideas as to how to ferret at least one of them out of their rotten little holes." Onto the matter of K'del, and the woman fits a look to that brief admonishment before she says as she passes over the bottle, "I didn' do anythin', darlin'," she notes pointedly. "I was mindin' my own business in that bar in Telgar, and one of them barmaids upped over and chatted me up. Or I chatted her up. Anyway. She mentioned someone tall with curly hair dropping by, likin' to be called 'Weyrleader' and somesuch while they did it in the storage closet. She said he was friendly. Do you have any guesses as to which bronzerider from the Reaches that could be?" But then he's saying he has a different story, and all of a sudden, booted feet drop from the table to the floor and she's sitting up to attention. Leaning forward now, "Ya don' say," she drawls to that last, eyes narrowing with interest as she waits to hear more.

"Tsanth's got plans. Problem is they aren't all that great." Z'ian flashes her a smile and rolls his eyes, just a hint of a helpless shrug of his shoulders. He knows what he's hitched to for life out there, that's for sure. His gaze shouldn't be too terribly difficult to catch, he's offering it to her soon enough. When he takes that eye contact up again, it's with another twitch to his lips. "I'm not beating myself up, not exactly. I just try to remember who I am and not force something on you that you're not or don't want to be or whatever. It's complicated." He laughs low then and it does the trick on his end of alleviating at least some of that built up tension, the pressure of having to explain something that just isn't so simple. On the matter of who, he shakes his head and there's a clear pang of regret in his eyes. "Alek. We all got away, physically. But I don't think he ever got away really." For the second time tonight, he's tapping his index finger to his temple. The indication, the middle brother of the clan didn't escape mentally from whatever it was. While the rest of them mostly did. "I understand how it can pull people in." The bottle gets passed back along and he encircles his fingers around the neck. Tipping it back and taking a generous swallow, he places it down on the table and rolls the bottom against the wood. There's a nod for her word on her former companions, "I have the utmost faith in your ferreting abilities." His smile returns, crooked as he considers her. Meanwhile, "Lets pretend for a moment that I don't know who you are and I believe that you weren't up to something regardless." The bronzerider's grin turns amused and then there's outright laughter. Just laughing. "Call him Weyrleader?. Woman, I ever ask you to call me that in bed, I want you to break my fingers until my balls drop again." There's something endlessly funny in that to him so it's another moment before he can seriously compose himself. "Forgive me. It's just- I know who it was. I spent a good long time freezing my ass off on the Star Stones at Telgar. Talking to their old watchrider. He knows who was visiting Teris. And the Weyrleaders. And claims he's there on authority."

"What kind of plans?" Jo can't but help to be interested in the plans of a bronze dragon. "I mean, what sort of plans can a dragon hatch, anyway? Doesn' he forget stuff in a seven?" And the next? Complicated. Very complicated. In light humor, "So ya think like Bones, eh?" she muses now, her voice low. "That in time, I can change." She doesn't linger on it for long, for something else Z'ian reveal has her attention. Him and his brothers. "Yer gonna have to tell me that particular story sometime," she notes, minutely sober. "And...suppose I tell ya about the mines. All that happened there. Not somethin' I talk about, ever." Pause. "Yer brother Alek and I have that common," she adds now, leaning forward to tap two fingers to her temple a few times. Fingers drop and she turns to the topic of the night, the bluerider matching that crooked smile for one of her own. Yeah, she knows he doesn't believe her one bit. "A simple bluerider can' just visit another Weyr's bar and partake of their unique drinks?" she flashes her teeth at him, clearly playing with him now. "Ya gotta get more variety in yer travels, Zach. Let me take ya there next time. The barmaid there is quite choice." His laughter to being called Weyrleader has her snorting her own quiet laughter as well. "Oh come on! Seriously. Ya mean to tell me ya wouldn' want me to call ya 'Weyrleader' in bed? Not even fashion yerself a little shoulderknot and spruce up yer threads and strut around the weyr like ya owned the place? I mean hey, folks got kink. I've certainly got mine." Yeah, she's not one to talk, but, she's laughing with him all the same. That laughter dies off in light of him saying he knows who it was, those revealed details she hadn't given him has her setting elbows to the table. "So....yer sayin' it's not K'del." Not a question, and she's bemused by it.

"Bad ones, trust me. They don't involve a lot of detailed foresight. I just get to hear new versions of the same ones day in and out. He's troubled by delusions of grandeur." He raises one arm and sweeps it through the air for emphasis, mouth twitching into another smile. "Z'ian, you could be the leader of the free world! With me! We're so fucking awesome, aw yeah." The bronzerider lifts his eyebrows, questioningly. "Want to switch lifemates?" He moves away from the much less serious portion of their conversation. "I believe that anyone can change. If they decide that they want to." There's a non-committal shrug of his shoulder for the concept and he looks at her consideringly. "Is that something you wanted to do some day?" Not today or tomorrow, but some indistinct hazy point in the future that's not yet determined. He brings his hand to the back of his neck and begins to rub a spot self-consciously. "I'll tell you sometime if you want to know. It's not complicated, just unpleasant. I don't really talk about my family that much, Jolie." Of course then he has to qualify, "Except apparently for when you're around. Then I talk about it non-stop." The corners of his mouth tug and he tips the bottle back again, another long swallow. He slides it across to her, using it as an excuse to brush his fingers against hers. "We can talk about the mines, if you want to. When you want to." It's as much confirmation that he's interested in knowing as it is assurance that there's no rush to divulge years of kept secrets. "I absolutely don't ever want you to call me that in bed. Especially not these days." He can't help but remain amused, occasionally laughter creeping through. "Yeah, we've all got our own kinks. But really." Waving that aside, he's trying to be serious here. Damn it. "It's not K'del. Insofar as I know. It was the first question I asked. He said Cadejoth hasn't been seen in Telgar for over a turn. It's Boreal's Wingsecond, S'varis." Z'ian cuts his teeth on his lower lip. "I haven't breathed a word of this since I got back to 'Reaches. Don't know who he's working for, if he's working for anyone. Or maybe he just thinks he can angle a new goldflight, new chance at being the real Weyrleader." He leans back in his chair. "But I've been keeping an eye on him. Know where he spends his free time, so it got me thinking." Famous last words.

With Z'ian's dramatization with his bronze, Jo's highly amused. "Tac thinks the same of me, more or less," she notes on those particular plans of taking over the world. "Ya don' want mine! He'll fill yer head with way in how to take over. Ya'll never get any sleep." On changing, that gets silence. She's thinking about it before there's a twitch of shoulders in an odd shrug. "Maybe, I can't." Change, that is. "Been a long time, Zach. Turns. Who knows...I've long stopped predictin' my life." There's a growing genuine smile when Z'ian admits that he does tell her about his family, even when he doesn't do so usually and she inclines her head to it. "Ya feel at ease to do so, with me. I know the feelin'. When we're both at ease, with family and the mines, we'll talk about it soon," is what she gives, and she reaches over to take the bottle, and his touch, her gaze knowing on him before she claims the bottle and brings it to her lips. Her silence is indeed a comfortable one with him. She flashes a grin at him on kinks, but at his confirmation on K'del, the new name given has her blinking once. "S'varis...." She seems to taste the name before drinking, frowning. She obviously doesn't like being in the wrong in this situation, but she focuses more on the bronzerider in question. Slowly, "He does fit the profile she gave me," she says, recalling the man's face to the name with a firm nod. When he admits he hasn't told anyone yet, she opens her mouth to say something but his very last wipes that thought she had from her mind. She's charged. Intrigued and looking Z'ian in the eye, "What ya got in mind, Zach?" she asks now, her gaze gleaming in the light with curiosity and anticipation.

"Well, if they're filling each other's heads with their bad plans it means less time to try and fill ours with them. I wish them the best of luck on their blossoming friendship." Z'ian announces, full of amusement. "That's not really what I asked you. The question was if you wanted to." With the clarification comes a shake of his head and he fixes the bluerider with a curious smile, "I don't believe for one second that if you decided you wanted something, that anything would get in your way. You're not the sort of person to let herself be stopped. You're impossibly strong, that might be part of why I like you." He links his hands behind his head, slipping the fingers between each other. He regards her silently on the topic of mines and families, slipping quietly into that easy interlude where they aren't talking. After a few moments of it, "Deal." There's something definitely alive and interested in him then as he watches the change come over her expression. "I figure we're agents of opposing sides, more or less. What do you say for the good of everyone we go and have a friendly chat with him? Quietly of course. I haven't even told K'del that it wasn't K'del yet." With a sly smile he tacks on, "And if anything were to happen, well. Seems like this is one of those times it'd be easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission."

There's a short chuckle from Jo on their dragons, the woman looking towards the ledge, before the next on changes brings her gaze right back to Z'ian. Her amusement still lingering through his clarification, "I knew what ya meant. I was just tryin' to trip ya up." Openly admitting that fact. After a lengthy pause, "Ya want honesty. I'll give ya that. The answer is no. I don' want to change." That darkness, it's there, always lingering deep under the surface even as she answers. "But someday? One day? Maybe. If I grow bored of this life. Grow bored of its draw, as ya said it." There's clearly more to it than that, but that's all she says on it. Z'ian's words on why he could like her earns him a wry, "Yer one with the compliments tonite, aren'cha?" Pause. "And, yer more perceptive than I've thought. Yer right. Somethin' I want, nothin' stops me. I never settle anymore, not since home. I'd also like to hear why else ya might like me," she can't help but add now, totally pining for accolades. "In painstakin' detail." Once that deal is made, she moves to what plan Z'ian has in mind and she's regarding him studiously. Waiting to hear the whole thing through, "Agents, huh?" she muses first on his choice of wording, there. That amuses her, but she doesn't question it. Instead, "Quiet chat. Ya say somethin' could go down, huh? I suppose that depends on our friend, S'varis, huh?" She thinks about it for a moment before she nods and says, "Sounds like a party. I imagine ya don' want this....chat....to be in public?"

"I knew what you were trying to do." Z'ian answers back, smiling crookedly at her for that. If there's surprise or dismay for the answer she finally gives, it doesn't show on his face. If anything, it's the lack of reaction that's noticable. It's one of those times he just absorbs the knowledge without outwardly reflecting much on it. But he will say, "There's a lot of time to decide differently, to find circumstances have changed. But it has to be right for you. No amount of someone else harping on it is going to affect that." And also, he does look maybe just a little touch pleased that he's more perceptive than she originally gave him credit for. His grin turns wolfish and he unhooks his hands to lean forward, dropping his elbows onto her table. "Can't help myself. I'll tell you all about what I like. As uncivilized as possible. If you're home for the night." He's nodding along for the rest. "If S'varis decides to be a dick? We do what we have to do to get him in hand. Find out what we need to know." With her agreement comes the curve of his mouth again. "I think that's for the best, private. Yeah?"

Z'ian's lack of reaction is noticeable by Jo, her own expression an open source there. She has nothing to hide there, at least. His words get her acknowledging incline of her head, but she does drawl out, "Perhaps. The ways things been around me...the more things change, the more they stay the same." Brows lift and fall to emphasize that. The bronzerider leans forward, the enticing little next has the convict rider sending a smile worth all the trouble in Pern. "I'm home for the night," she immediately says, hands spread out away from herself in a 'I'm ready' gesture before they drop. "And...do what we have to, huh? Them some mighty ominous words to say to an ex-con, darlin'." There must be rules, right? She's eyeing the man across the table now a bit pointedly, those there's a gleam in her eyes. "My interpretation may not be the same as yers. But I'm onboard. Ya tell me when, and Tac and I will be there."

"Exceptions to rules, too. Or old sayings. Whatever you'd like to label it as." Z'ian responds with a quick flash of a smile, ushering away the lack of reaction to something more natural and easy. "You are, huh?" He meets that all-the-trouble-in-the-world look with one of his own, beginning to undo the buttons at the ends of his sleeves. All the better for rolling them up. "That's fine. You're what gives us the edge when we go in there anyway and I might not have mentioned it before. But I trust you too." Trusting her to hopefully not eviscerate poor S'varis when they have their friendly chat with him. "We'll let you know when we've got a good opportunity." The bronzerider pushes his chair back and gets to his feet, circling around the table to Jo. He plucks the bottle away from her and wraps his fingers around her wrist. "Now... About the social aspect of our time tonight? I don't think I ever repaid you for taking care me when I was sick."

Exceptions. Jo looks oddly at the bronzerider for that, but the look is there and gone in moments. She shakes her head as if to clear something from her mind, her gaze taking on heat when he undoes those buttons. She leans back in her chair slowly, watching him like she was watching a pretty dancer, the talk on meeting S'varis getting a "So ya need some edge? That's cool. I'd be more than happy to oblige." Especially in this. If she had accused K'del wrongly... well, she wanted to get down to the bottom of it. Z'ian's trust in her gets the convict rider's genuine smile, no words needed there. Not when he's taking the bottle away and has her by the wrist. Jo even does him one better by getting up from the chair and wraps her free arm about his waist, his last getting a sultry, "Far be it for me to allow anyone not to repay a debt owed." Drawing him close, low laughter being all that comes from her then, she's pressing her lips to his and making sure that such a debt gets paid off in full by the end of the night.