Logs:Liquoring Up the Exiles
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| RL Date: 15 June, 2011 |
| Who: Taikrin, Raum, Rhaelyn |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Taikrin accidentally invites half the exile population out to the Snowasis. At least they don't seem disposed to drink a whole lot of her booze-- except for Raum, that is. |
| Where: The Snowasis, HRW |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ) 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 began simply enough: Taikrin was in the candidate barracks, chatting up one of the prettier exile girls. The girl herself was oblivious to the point, because an invitation to 'show her around the Snowasis' somehow morphed into an invitation to 'show the exiles around the Snowasis'. So while Taikrin sits, in growing horror, rather more exiles than just the single invited girl have been trickling into the bar. She's making the best of it, though, offering around whiskey and beer (the cheap stuff, no doubt) to the scattered tables. Rhaelyn comes in with the most recent group of exiles. She's with a fish-faced girl and two others who are gaping around at the gathering of people within. "I told you, everyone was going to be here." Rhae's voice is quiet and she gives fish-face a push forward and sneaks a look left and right, waving to other exiles who are already settled in. Raum, at least, looks quite at home in the bar, with a mug of beer in hand as he circulates through the tables himself. He doesn't seem inclined to linger with any particular group of exiles, no more than they seem inclined to invite him to stay; but when he sees Taikrin he steps her way and lifts his mug in a mock toast. "Awful nice of you to treat us to a night out," he remarks. An observant person will note the tight lines around Taikrin's lips and how beyond normally pale she's gotten. Nevertheless, she offers something resembling a smile to Raum. "That's me, love to see people havin' a good time. Figured none of their lot knows how to appreciate a good whiskey, like." The glass of brown liquid is raised in salute to the exile. "And-- oi. Shells." She's noted Rhaelyn's group's entrance with a poorly-muffled curse. Nevertheless, she calls, "C'mon in, girls! Have a drink!" Rhaelyn reaches out to touch one of the girl's arms as they moon-eye around the place. The other girls give Raum a trio of sour looks as they pass him, but Rhae has a smile for him, "Not off and away to your home?" She asks, but not expecting him to answer her, she continues to guide the sheep towards Taikrin. "I hear you have some interesting things to sample." And who knows what else might happen. "Not allowed. Not interested," Raum throws out two causes carelessly, with a lift of his shoulders for Rhaelyn's words as they pass by. He is, at least, immune to ugly looks: the man's had long years to practice that, for sure. To Taikrin, "You think this lot'll be appreciating them in the morning? Do you at least get a discount for bringing them all this business?" "Ehhh, we worked out a deal," Taikrin asides to Raum, with a pointed look towards the bartender. "Sorta." Clearly it's still not taking away /all/ the pain. But for Rhaelyn? She'll put some effort into that smile. "Sure do! Got some whiskey, an' a coupl'a different brews, too. Whiskey's this'n here." The glass is wiggled in Rhaelyn's direction. "Wanna try?" The other girls make faces at Raum until it's clear he's ignoring them. Rhae rolls her eyes towards them and looks across to Raum, "Why wouldn't you want to go back? Even some of our folks want to go back to that rock becuase it's 'home'." Not the smart ones obviously. Coming closer she has to leave the protective ring of the other girls, "I'll give it a try." Asking Raum, "Do you like the Whiskey?" Raum glances sideways to the bartender himself, just for a moment, and gives him a nod. His beer's set on the table for the time being, and he tells Taikrin, "Haven't had any myself yet, either. But I am fond of whiskey, in general; can't imagine your northern type to be any worse." A beat, and he cuts a look at Rhaelyn again. "Don't want to leave all my friends," he drawls, with a smirk. "Little sip," Taikrin advises Rhaelyn, miming raising a glass to her lips as she does so. "Strong stuff, but you gotta give it a chance, see, a'fore you decide if you like it." Her crooked smile is almost... charming. "Our stuff tends towards strong, on account of how cold it is? Good stuff, though, this. Smooth, but with a little kick. Ain't quite firebreathin'; but we got some'll have you flamin' Thread like a dragon, though." Rhaelyn draws one of the girls over, "Mara, you have your sip first." She's going to watch for the expression and response before she gives it a try. Mara, the poor girl, blushes as she's drawn up closer to Taikrin and takes the glass. Meanwhile Rhae pretends not to be watching, she's blowing a little kiss at Raum, "I didn't know that you cared. Thought you'd be glad to untangle yourself from us." One of the other girls chirps up, "A drink can make you breath fire?!" And there's laughter from the other, so far silent girl. Mara chokes and croaks on the too-big sip she tried of the whiskey making Rhae frown, "Oh, poor Mara." "Funny, I'd say the same about Igen's, for how hot it is," notes Raum, shoulders lifting. "You ever been down that way? --You don't think I'd ditch you /that/ fast, now do you? After all you've done for me?" Taikrin can't help but smirk at Mara's first sip of whiskey, stifling a laugh only with effort. "Hey, easy with that, now. Little girls like y'all ain't known for bein' able to hold it in. Go ahead, go ahead." She gestures for them to pass the drink around, then turns to Raum. "Wouldn'a thought. Ain't spent much time there; had to learn the images, so's we've been over the Weyr-- ain't done much else, though. Shardin' hot! We ain't made for that, me an' Szad." Mara turns a bit green and makes a run for the door. Rhaelyn can't help but smirk, "I'll be right back." She's going after the girl to 'help', or to taunt, hard to say really. When Rhaelyn's little friends pull her off to find something more to their girlish tastes, Raum is free to claim his own whiskey left behind and take a long swig of it himself. It doesn't seem to bother him nearly like it did them. "There's a bar--well, a couple of them, at Igen Hold you might like. The main one's like this, pretty much, but there's another one, not so well known, that's a little more... Well." Smirk. "Oh?" Taikrin only lets disappointment linger for a moment when the girls move away; the look she directs after them is faintly predatory. "Reckon maybe I oughta go an' explore. It got some good... flavor?" She gestures towards the bar for another drink, since Raum seems to have appropriated the girls'. "Know a couple 'round here, but-- reckon they all know me, too." "That's one way to put it," agrees Raum. "Used to get in fights there all the time, when I was younger. Then I joined the guards, and I'd--go get in fights there all the time, only without having to worry about getting locked afterward." The thought makes him smirk, and he finishes off that whiskey in no time. "Don't reckon I'd be a welcome face back there now, though." At the word 'guard', Taikrin goes still and her smile grows fixed. "Guard, eh? Hold-work or, uh... more supervisory?" She tries to play it casual, glancing over her shoulder to pluck a whiskey off the tray of a passing waiter. "Why's that, anyhow? 'Cause you ditched 'em for bein' a sailor? That's what y'said, ain't it?" "Bit of everything, really," says Raum, lifting his brows as he gives Taikrin his most innocent look. It's not very, to be honest. "Started out at the bottom, breaking up fights and watching the drunks sleep it off. Ended up, captain of the Lord's guard. Why, that a problem?" Taikrin hides behind a long swig of whiskey; by the time she lowers the glass from her face, she's regained her composure. "'Course it ain't," she breezes. "Just wonderin' what it was y'did. Guards can get a reputation, y'know? Reckon you're the right sort, if y'got a good appreciation for whiskey an' a throwdown." Just Taikrin's sort of guard, at least. "Captain of the Lord's guard, though. Sounds like a thing." Raum shrugs. "Don't know how it is, up here--Weyrleader says there ain't no guards, at least at the Weyr," he admits, toying with the empty glass. "Down there, seemed like often as not, the guards were just criminals with the Lord's seal. The young ones, especially. Not a lot of old ones, though--if you don't know what you're doing, you end up with too many enemies." "'Course we ain't got no guards, we got dragons! Who would'a ever heard of a guard at a Weyr? That's just crazy talk." Taikrin waves a hand dismissively at the very /idea/ of the Weyr playing host to guards. As if! "That so? Didn't know Igen was-- like that. Must be a hard place t'live. We're all friends, up here." Taikrin grins, too-broadly, as if there's an inside joke she's sharing, if only Raum picks up on it. Raum, his mouth twisting into another wry smirk, will drink to that. So he does. "You see why a man'd want to find friendlier ground, then," he remarks, glancing sideways at Taikrin. "Course, the way people in Igen talked about the Reaches, I'm surprised to hear it. And what I've heard here, too--convicts and raiders and things like that. Can't say I really understood it all, though?" "Eh, people tell stories, I reckon. Like how they say they're all lazy sots in Igen, and gamblers and whores in Ista, and-- well. You know. We're just folk, same as any other." But Taikrin's smile still tells of that inside joke. "Don't know as how there's anything to understand." "Do they say that?" Raum seems surprised, the way his brows go up, but he lets it slide. Instead, "I suppose you are, same as all these people." A nod takes in the exiles, happily at their drinking--at least until the hangovers begin. "Should like to make a few new friends, though, while I'm here. S'been a while, as you might gather." "Some of us maybe a little more privileged, like--" Taikrin gestures with her glass at the nearest set of exiles. "Reckon I ought to go make some friends, seein' as how they're all drinkin' my booze." Thank goodness for low alcohol tolerances! "Reckon you might be able t'make a few friends 'round these parts -- always lookin' to make friends with the right attitude." "Make 'em while you can," advises Raum as he straightens and steps away. "They won't like you so much come morning. Be seeing you." And he's off then, abandoning the party entirely for the caverns further in.
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