Difference between revisions of "Logs:Deep End"

Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr

The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.

Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.

It's late. So late that the vast majority of the bar's patrons have headed off to find their beds. So late that Tayte is coming off shift because there isn't enough work to go 'round. As she finishes rolling up her apron, she moves to collect a glass of white wine from the bar top before she's moving through the tables, searching out a seat for herself to wind down after the day.

It's perfectly on time for Jo, in other words. The bluerider saunters in with the air of someone showing up fashionably late for one of Snowasis's raucous wing parties and calls out, "Hey Tayte." Her tone is just a bit on the weary side, and she looks around before taking up residence at the bar. "Closin' up or can I still get a nick of somethin'?"

The blonde's lips have a slight curl of a welcoming smile for Jo before a glance is cast over her shoulder. "Carlotta's still on," but then she sees the aforementioned co-worker engaged in trying to usher a greenrider out who seems to be unsteady on his feet. "But, for you..." Tayte lets it hang with an amused smile as she pivots lazily to return the way she came; she'll not make Jo wait. "What are you drinking?" is asked of the bluerider as the bartender rounds the bar and places her wineglass onto its surface in front of one of the several empty seats.

"Anythin' strong, thanks darlin'," Jo says as she settles gratefully on a stool at the bar. Her black leather riding jacket hangs off her loosely, one arm out the sleeve while the other is covered. Eyeing the wineglass being put back in pause, "I'm not interruptin' anythin', hm?" she asks, cutting a glance at her. "Or expectin' someone, rather. H'vier?" A brow lifts Tayte's way as she leans back, studying both her and Carlotta now.

Tayte selects a whiskey appropriate to Jo's tastes and budget, snags up a glass and places bottle and glass on the bar top. "Now, understand, I'll have to join you to keep track of how many drinks you have." Maybe it's not the typical way business is done, but she had come off shift. So she rounds the end of the bar and slides onto a stool next to the bluerider, taking up her wine. "You're not. Interrupting that is. Or setting yourself up to be interrupted. We're not together anymore," which doesn't mean they don't still share a daughter, but once that's done, there's really no undoing that doesn't end up too messy for the trouble of it. "Long day? You look tired," comes the gentle observation as the glass is lifted to her lips.

Snorting, "Wanna make sure I don' drink this place under the table, ya mean?" Jo translates Tayte's response on the drink tracking. A brow lifts when the vintner offers more information on her relationship with the bronzerider than expected, seeming to take it in as she watches her join her at the bar. She then works to fill her empty glass before speaking. "What'd he do this time?" she asks, as if they've shared stories before on the man and his transgressions. Her voice is even a bit long-suffering. When observations turn to herself, there's a nod and a slight shrug before taking a drink and saying, "Long day. The usual. Thought I'd wind down with a drink before goin' up, ya know."

The first simply earns a smile made by lips pressed together, dimple barely showing itself. After some sips, she sets the glass on the bar top. "He slept with his wingleader. Isn't that always his problem?" One of many. "Not being able to keep it in his pants when he's promised otherwise?" The blonde shrugs her shoulders like it doesn't matter. Tayte seems far more keen to focus in on her, "So frolicking through the countryside with a pretty white skirt on and fashioning flower crowns?" is suggested as 'the usual.' "Glacier hasn't seemed as rowdy lately, or maybe it's just that I'm never on the right shift to catch them at their worst? Or is it best? I've never quite been able to sort it."

"Dragonriders fuckin' is pretty common, darlin'," Jo says it like she would know, right? "I mean. If not for flights'n all. Kinda hard to take the monogamy route cuz of it, so why bother? He came back to ya afterwards, right?" In Jo-logic, that must mean something with the pointed look being given. "Anyways, seems like he wanna stab himself in the nuts by promisin' somethin' like that. Not that I don' think ya deserve such a thing," she's quick to add, raising her glass slightly in Tayte's direction. She grins when the vintner takes a stab on what her usual could be, so the bluerider shrugs and says, "Somethin' like that, minus the white skirt. Doesn' go with the leather. Glacier's still been pretty rowdy to me. I don' think Taikrin would want less for her wing. Or, maybe they're keepin' their head down now that there's a Weyrleader about."

"Is it pretty common for dragonriders to break their word? Flights were fine. After a flight is different. Especially when I was close enough to see them go off together. He doesn't get a pass for bad decisions just because he has a dragon." At least she doesn't insult Reisoth; that would be uncalled for. Tayte's lips set a little harder of a line for the talk of H'vier. "He came back a seven later drunk, scaring Vali and asking me to take him back; is that what you mean by coming back to me afterwards?" The next is a much pleasanter topic judging by the way her lips curl into an amused smile. "No? Shame. You in a white skirt and leather jacket sounds like someone's wet dream. The coquette mixed with the bad girl." There are a few more sips before she queries, "Are you glad that K'del's back in his familiar place?"

Laughing, "Dragonriders ain' Faranth's gift to Pern," is all Jo answers to that first question, brows lifting and falling to that. "And, shit. After-flight fucks happen. Ya can' think straight when yer dragon loses the chase, take it from me. I've ended up with enough passed a flight'n, some of them I didn' even like. Takes a while to get back from that. I am curious though," and she studies the blonde with interest. "Yer ain' takin' him back, then?" She snorts on the topic of her in a white skirt before she drawls into her tipped glass to her lips, "Mm. Don' need clothes to be anyone's wet dream. Lucky this Weyr, I'm tame enough." As in, she's must worse than she's been? The question about the Weyrleader gives her pause as she drinks, setting the glass down for a refill before answering. "Well, I was of the camp that thought Taikrin bein' Weyrleader would have been interestin'," she says with a slight, non-chalant shrug. "I think a Weyr needs a good shake-up. But," and she leans back with her drink, "if anyone had to take the knot, it'd be him. He's as much part of this place as the dirt under our feet. Z'ian would have been a good leader too, if not for the accident, but, I think folks 'round here are better off with a familiar face at the helm."

There's laughter for what Jo doesn't need. And a hearty, "No, no they are not," of dragonriders. Tayte will drink to that, and does. "I wasn't planning on getting back together with him," although who knows how plans change or get wrecked entirely, "but it sort of sounds like you think I should? And here I thought maybe, just maybe, you might like to take a no-strings tumble like the good old days." Like they have good old days. She's not swooning as she waits for an answer, though the words seem to have enough seriousness to them that Jo could take it or leave it. "Mm, yes. The accident was unfortunate." She means it genuinely. "Did they ever figure out if it really was just an accident or something more? I'd heard rumor once, but then not much since." Then again, she's been gone to Vintner for nine or so months. It is a while to be out of the gossip mill.

When Tayte drinks, Jo joins in on the makeshift toast. Okay sure, she's dragonrider, too, but- "Sounds like I'm just askin' ya a question," is her return on the vintner getting back together with H'vier. The chuckle that follows is a little deeper now, especially in light of what Tayte says next about the good old days. She holds the glass lazily, elbow propped on the counter as she considers the other woman in the following pause. "Why?" she asks then, studying her. "Is that what ya want?" Perhaps on purpose, the question could be directed either towards the one with her and H'vier or the one with her and Jo. It's given with such an easygoing demeanor, her tone smooth and low, and she then she answers on the accident with a rolling shoulder shrug. "If they did, guess they didn' think I was worthy enough to know 'bout it," is her swift answer. "Or, there's still enough folks that didn' know my connection to him. Not like we announced it'n shit."

"Who wouldn't want a romp in the sheets with you?" Tayte answers the question with a question, but there's a smile and it's not teasing. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I was single?" Too long from the way she takes a long drink from her glass. "My feelings for H'vier are, as always, complicated. And you know I have a certain weakness for black sheeps." Her eyes briefly fall to Jo's jacket, before she adds, "Figuratively speaking, of course." Since Jo probably could be better likened to a jungle cat than a sheep. "Shame," she says for what they didn't tell Jo. "Finding enough trouble to keep you busy? Coming home with bloody knuckles as often as you like?" She keeps her tone light, but she's Tayte, so there's a visible flicker of concern for the latter.

"Ya say all the right things, darlin'," is Jo's response to that first one, lifting her glass in a silent, brief toast. "How long has it been? As for H'vier, well," she pauses with a slight shrug, "he seems to be a complicated man. I dunno many bronzeriders that aren', though. These bronze dragons seem to like pickin' those types of men, if ya notice. Still," and she glass is brought to her lips for a healthy drink of it. "Still. I'd take ya up for that romp if not for the possibility I'll get killed for it. I'm reckless, but I like to believe that I choose my reckless moments." Eyeing her pointedly, "'N that man of yers is crazy," she ends, bluntly. Moving on then to answer Tayte's last, "There's always trouble," she says with a sigh. "Not as much bloody'n drunk, no. My friends keep an eye on me. Well, a better eye, that is."

"That's half of the job with bartending, you know. Saying the right things. Then there's not saying the wrong things, and a little drink mixing in there too." Tayte's tone is wry then there's a fluttery sigh that probably responds to all the business about sleeping together - hers with H'vier and with Jo. "Well, a turn and three quarters or so since Tahvra," that's easy to figure out at this time of the turn since the girl's first turnday is literally days away. "Then of course there were things before. We've probably been involved some three turns, most of it monogamous on my end." She can't really speak the same of his. "I don't blame you. He is. I'm thinking maybe in three or five turns or if I get transferred somewhere else I can finally start sleeping with someone without the threat of bodily harm randomly befalling them." She drinks, "After I saw him go off with Fayla, I slept with someone. A gay man, actually, as it happens." Some part of her can now be amused about this. "And it didn't matter to Havi that he was gay, he still punched him." She shakes her head. "I'm glad someone's keeping an eye on you. It'd be nice for you to still have full range of motion in your fingers if it ever becomes safe to romp around with you." Which is probably never will, her tone implies, but one can think wishfully about anything!

Laughing, "Made any new drinks?" Jo asks on the first, reaching for the bottle to refill. Turning to the subject of one bronzerider then, she shakes her head at what she's hearing before she responds back, "Three're five turns. Shit, woman. He must give it good to be dealin' with him for that long. A gay man, huh?" Yeah, that is funny enough to appear amused by it. "He must be out his fuckin' mind to punch out regardless. Hope the guy didn' hold that against ya." She gives a soft snort on the last before she takes a lingering drink, studying the blonde before her before she says, "Givin' him too much power, darlin'." She shakes her head to it.

"Made, not so much, but I did learn some new ones while I was at the Hall. Feel free to stop by sometime and I'll mix you up a sampling. You could even come by the workroom and we'll teach the apprentices." No doubt very professionally and instructively. Tayte has a grin for that. "Oh, well," she blushes, "It is good, but I really meant that that's about when his jealousy might start to taper off a bit. "No, the man is much too nice for grudges." Or so she thinks. "Not my type at all, really. I was just angry and very, very drunk, and the gold flight and all." She sighs, "I've never much been good at holding the power in any of my relationships, really, Jo. I don't know how it's done." A glance to the woman might seem to have Tayte contemplating asking how, but she takes a sip of her wine instead.

"I'd actually be interested, yeah," Jo answers on those concoctions, nodding gratefully to her. "I'm always lookin' for new flavors." She's not saying why though. "Tayte," she moves on to say, leaning forward and shaking her head, "it seems like trouble likes ya more than me, if that's possible. Hookin' up with a crazed-up bronzerider that's possessive as fuck enough to knock out a man that clearly has no interest in females. Good luck with that, darlin', cuz yer gonna need it. As for bein' the one holdin' the power," and she takes a pause to leisurely drain the rest of the contents in her glass before setting it down and finally stepping away from the bar, "not lettin'em get too close is one way. Easier to break it off when the goin' gets tough. Ya give'em all of ya? Then they own ya."

"Well, you know where I live," is the reiterated invitation to the first. The sigh to the second is rueful, "Maybe, but a different sort, not that mine couldn't be solved with fists perhaps, but..." She's not really that sort. Tayte turns in her seat to watch Jo step away, silent consideration for the bluerider's last words. Her question comes quietly and mightn't even be something she expects an answer to. "What do you do when you meant to wade and ended up in to your neck?" In deep.

"I do," Jo says on the first, nodding. "Let me know when ya create somethin' ya want me to taste." She snickers a bit on the next - seeming to be picturing Tayte with fists flying at the big bronzerider as she looks her over. The question, perhaps unexpected to hear, does give her steps pause as she doesn't quite look the blonde over her shoulder in that moment. Then, "Still tryin' to figure that one out, darlin'," she answers, turning slightly to fit her a look. "Suspect the deep-end shit will happen more to you than it will to someone like me. 'S gonna take someone....someone that determined to ever get that close to me," and, perhaps the 'again' could be heard even if not said. It's rare. Jo has insight. It's rare that Jo has insight and it's about her. It's with a pensive expression, the one fleeting moment that isn't rife with bravado and poker faces before the moment ends and she's turning back towards the exit. "See ya, Tayte," is given with open nonchalance - as if the previous words never happened.