Difference between revisions of "Logs:Should'a /Done/ Something."

Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr

Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.

Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.

An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.

The afternoon finds Taikrin drunk. Not getting drunk, or partying, or even a little tipsy; she's /drunk/. She's found herself an isolated spot - or possibly chased everyone else away - against the wall of the bowl, and has tucked in quite nicely. Aside from the bottle in her hand occasionally making its way to her mouth, she's unusually still. And /definitely/ unusually quiet. Szadath was making something of a fuss, earlier, but has since found himself distracted by Iskiveth; he's still there, on her ledge, napping.

Cadejoth's ledge is in line of sight of Iskiveth's, and perhaps that's why K'del slouches his way across the bowl towards the Snowasis, eyes metaphorically peeled. Peeled enough, at least - that it doesn't take him too long to spot the brownrider, however secluded, and to sidle off into that direction. He's silent until he's standing beside her, leaning up against the wall while still in a standing position. Then; "Guessing you heard the news." And while his expression is relatively neutral, his tone is not: he swallows, hard, biting back agitation.

Taikrin doesn't even register K'del's approach, at first; a lack of wariness that's out of character for the brownrider. She bleerily blinks up at him from behind her bottle, then offers a one-shouldered shrug. "Szad knew," is all she remarks, words slurred and throat tight. After a moment's consideration she offers the bottle up: the vapors drifting out of it alone are enough to knock a bull to it's knees, the mark of crude grain alcohol.

Crude grain alcohol is not K'del's usual beverage of choice, but he takes the bottle anyway, and manages not to gasp at the taste of it running down his throat. He doesn't take a second, though: just hands it back, quietly. "Reckon it's hard to miss it. Dragons won't let you. Pretty sure half of Pern knew when Teonath went." And the same goes this time, no doubt. He swallows, then adds, "Better, that they go together. Better than alone. Reckon that's-- a blessing. If you believe in such things."

Taikrin quietly takes the bottle back, downing another swig without any sort of indication of just how foul the concotion is, before she braces herself to speak again. "Didn't want him to, you know? Because then he remembered. Or-- you know." She makes a sloppy gesture with her hand, then stares at her wrist in the curiously fixed way of the very drunk. It's a moment before she can regather her thoughts. "Shouldn't have happened at all."

"Yeah," agrees K'del, obviously following Taikrin's train of thought passably well-- or, at least, what he /thinks/ her train of thought must be. "No, it shouldn't. First and foremost duty of a goldrider, controlling her queen. Supposed to know better than all that. Sucks to be Fort right now, but... own making, you know. Lesson to us all, maybe, but not one I think /we/ needed reminding of." He's sucking in his breath, now, sounding musing. Unhappy.

"Seems like we should'a--" Taikrin muses, then breaks off, eyebrows knitting at the terribly difficult task of thinking. "Should'a /done/ something. Me an' Szad. Just /froze/. He could'a-- we almost /caught/ her, you know? Maybe, if we was /faster/--" Fist meets thigh in visceral expression of her frustration, sloshing alcohol all over her other hand. Her head tilts back, exposing her bloodshot gaze to K'del. "Why'd they do it?"

K'del's silent for a long moment, though his gaze is fastened intently upon the brownrider. "Not sure you could've done anything," he tells her. "Not that I was there. But. Hard to stop a queen. Harder to stop a queen when she's Rising." Despite the fact that he's answered that, and has obviously heard the question that followed Taikrin's initial words, he's slow to add the last: "The junior gold? Don't know. No idea. Can't believe anyone would be that /stupid/, but apparently-- there you go." People really are that stupid. He sucks breath into his cheeks, then exhales, the lines of his face tightening.

"Yeah-- no. I mean. I know why they /went/, but not why they went-- up." Words pile out, one atop the other, none of them making a lot of sense-- and to judge from Taikrin's frustration, she knows it. "Why would she-- stay around? And why would she fight? We were /right there/. /Right there!/" The brownrider swigs back the balance of the remainder then scowls up at K'del, demanding, "Why ain't we ever /good/ enough?"

K'del is clearly getting confused now: he squints, trying to determine exactly what Taikrin is trying to say. Blowing out a long breath, he shakes his head. "Shells if I know. They're supposed to know to get away. It's-- the first thing you have to learn, or something. Makes no sense." He looks kind of pissed off about it, too. "But-- not good enough? Sure you're good enough. Iskiveth thinks so. Queens don't like sharing mates; the idea of having another queen taking away your potential mates... shells, I don't know. They can't stand it. None of it should ever have happened."

It's doubtful even Taikrin knows what she wants to say, at this point: she expresses more with another fist thumped onto the floor than she ever could with words. "I still want to-- I gotta say somethin'. /Do/ somethin'. I can't just sit here and say, oh, yeah, too bad she's /dead/ guess we tried our best' y'know? I dunno, I don't-- don't know what we're supposed t'do." There's a rising note at the end, as if she's asking K'del - of all people! - to tell her what to do next.

"Reckon--" begins K'del, but he falters, clearly not sure what she can do, either. He purses his lips, and closes his eyes, his head leaning back to rest upon the stone behind him. "Shells, I dunno. You can tell people about what happened, so they know. Know that they can never let it happen again. Which... feels dumb. Useless. well, maybe not /useless/. But. Shells." He opens his eyes again, staring off into the distance in an unfocused manner. "Think I'm going to talk to Fort. If things are as bad as they say, they're going to be wanting a queen, and-- anyway. They've made some pretty bad mistakes, and it's not-- right."

That, at least gets some kind of reaction out of Taikrin that isn't moping or confusion: "They can't have one of ours! Iskiveth's too good t'go to some place where they throw their queens away, an' I ain't /never/ going to Fort again!" At some point in her abrupt tirade, Taikrin had gotten to her feet-- though now that she's finished, she seems surprised to find herself there. She sways back against the wall, shaking her head as if that'd do a thing to clear it. "You oughta-- tell 'em. Make 'em-- /do/ something. S'what you do, right?"

K'del's expression is aghast: "No, no, no," he promises. "Won't be offering that, shells no. But they've got to know that everyone'd be wary, if that's what happened last time." He watches Taikrin, a certain amount of wariness visible in his expression, as though he fully expects to have to reach out and stop her from falling any minute. Thank goodness for the wall. "Something like that. I'll-- dunno what I'll do, frankly. But it's not right. None of this."

"S'good, 'cause-- they don't deserve one. Ours're too good." Taikrin is decisive, in this at least. She opens her mouth to say something else, then closes it again. This repeats a few more times until, like a rock skipping across a pond of water, her thoughts land somewhere else entirely. "You ain't seen Saliqa around, have you?" The brownrider squints at K'del, as if the holder girl might be hiding somewhere within his jacket. "'Cause I was lookin'. Before." The near-empty booze bottle is gestured with, grandly.

"S'good, 'cause-- they don't deserve one. Ours're too good." Taikrin is decisive, in this at least. She opens her mouth to say something else, then closes it again. This repeats a few more times until, like a rock skipping across a pond of water, her thoughts land somewhere else entirely. "You ain't seen Saliqa around, have you?" The brownrider squints at K'del, as if the holder girl might be hiding somewhere within his jacket. "'Cause I was lookin'. Before." The near-empty booze bottle is gestured with, grandly.

K'del's head goes nod, nod, nod: right, they don't deserve one. He's visibly surprised, though, by the change of topic, and glances around - this way, that way, back to Taikrin - for several moments before he answers. "Not... recently?" Another shake of the head, apparently confirming this. "Maybe you'd better-- get some more air, before you try and find her again. I'm sure she'll be around at some point." Hopefully when Tai is not quite so drunk.

"Oh, well, guess I'll track her down. Need to get that girl a firelizard. Or a bell. She sneaks off too good," she slurs. Taikrin's push off the wall very quickly turns into an inelegant stagger, which in turn devolves into a collapse onto the nearby bench. "Oh." She stares at the bottle in her hand, as if seeing it for the first time. "Huh. That's a lot." Back to K'del, "Air?"

"If I see her, I'll let her know you're looking for her," promises K'del faithfully, drawing himself away from the wall now that Taikrin, too, is moving from it. "Right. A lot. So-- air. Uh." Obviously, the subtle approach is not going to be any good. "Sober up a bit, maybe? Wouldn't do to throw up all over her, right?"

"I ain't gonna do no such thing!" Taikrin retorts, indignantly, only to pause with widened eyes a moment later. "Uh. Well. Maybe not. Reckon she'd get pretty mad. Maybe I oughta--" Her face screws up with effort as she /squints/ in the general direction of Iskiveth's ledge, to no apparent effect. "Or. Uh. Huh. Maybe... not." She's definitely looking a little green around the gills. Oops.

K'del seeks out the entrance to the Snowasis with his eyes, but alas, there's no one conveniently heading in or out at the moment. So; "I'll get them to bring you out some water, Taikrin. Just-- sit for a bit. And in a little while, Szadath can come and take you home. Okay?" He looks genuinely concerned for her: a bonding moment, at last! Sort of.

Poor Taikrin, she's going to be paying for /this/ one in the morning. She subsides limply, sprawling out on the bench and pressing her forehead against the cool stone. "... 'kay." There's just not a lot of protest left in her. But oh, she'll be grateful for that water.

To be honest, K'del looks rather hesitant about leaving Taikrin at all-- but he does. "Look after yourself," he murmurs, just barely audible, before he turns to head into the Snowasis. Water is, then, forthcoming. And a regular glance outside from one of the staff, too: just in case.

Taikrin's definitely not going anywhere under her own steam, at least! There might be a couple unflattering messes to clean up, but hey-- at least she's outside, and the ledge is made of stone. And Szadath's hide can always be hosed off, once the brown rouses enough to take his rider back home.

Anyway, this is High Reaches: the bar staff have got to be pretty used to this kind of thing.