Logs:Superfluous Conversation
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| RL Date: 2 March, 2013 |
| Who: H'kon, Vienne |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Vienne gets just enough liquid courage to establish that H'kon still doesn't dislike her. |
| Where: The Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| Somewhere in this Weyr there are hopeful little candidates getting shown a moderately good time, in theory at least. But here at the Snowasis, there are plenty of people showing themselves a good time. A cluster of wingriders over there, some smiths yacking it up at a table, various other people milling about with drinks and conversation ready to share. And sitting at the bar, looking rather prim in comparison to any number of tonight's patrons, is one little bluerider, her jacket folded across her lap, her ankles crossed and her heeled boot caught on a rung of her stool. The drink in front of her is half gone, something golden with ice and a stirring stick, so probably not straight-anything. She has a polite smile now and then when someone comes by to collect a drink, but for the most part she appears to be entirely on her own. But for the length of time that has passed since his last entrance into the Snowasis, and maybe the few more greys in his beard and slightly larger bags under his eyes for it, H'kon's entry is not much different than any other one. He wears his jacket and only undoes it at the top, he nods only to those who call out to him (and they are few and far between), and he makes his way directly to the bar. Maybe it's a new bartender or something, that he cannot simply nod upon being spotted and wait for his bottle, a bulk buy, to come to him. The 'one moment' gesture from the hand leaves him standing. Leaves him grimacing. Leaves him near Vienne, though he's shown little sign of noticing it yet, head kept down. Vienne is just lifting her glass, just taking a sip, when she realizes that H'kon is standing next to her, and that little double take is enough that she might just... miss her mouth a little bit. All in all, though, it's kind of a welcome distraction, since then she can hurriedly put her wet glass back down and go dabbing at her mouth with her knuckle, eyeballing the drops on her sweater. "Can I get a napkin?" she asks the too-busy bartender who holds a finger up for her as well. The glance she slips sideways toward the brownrider is furtive, more like she hopes he doesn't take this moment to notice her than like she expects any help from him. Besides, he doesn't appear to have any napkins on hand. It's not the request for the napkin that gets H'kon's attention, no. It's that bartender raising a finger in his general direction. And not responding when H'kon gives an over-emphasised nod. He knows. And not looking to him. It's maybe that last, more than anything, that has the brownrider turning to look to the place beside him, and thus finding, with or without her will, "Vienne." His look to her is not furtive, though it is short-lived. And then he's back to looking behind the bar, not yet impatient, but certainly... waiting. She rummages through her coat pockets, but there's no handkerchief to be found and so Vienne can only dab a light finger at the drops on her chest, frowning, but at least possibly unnoticed. Until... He's seen her. The bluerider looks over at him with wide, uncertain eyes, which only makes it all the more obvious to her when he so pointedly turns his attention forward again. "H'kon," she tries as an equal greeting, not sounding terribly confident about it. Her fingers are sticky now and though she has nothing to clean them with, she does try rubbing it away. A few good moments of silence pass, enough that it might just seem like the bartender has forgotten them both, and then Vienne speaks up again. "What do you want from people?" A little sudden? Probably. A little prying? Well, maybe there's a flush in her cheeks to explain it. "You sit there and I feel like you're disappointed in everyone. Or maybe not disappointed because you don't expect anything else anymore. Do you wish everyone just... knew? So you wouldn't have to say anything? Or do you just want people to leave you alone because they wouldn't understand anyway?" She shakes her head, though, not expecting an answer, and she takes light mouthful of her drink only to realize that her glass is still wet and her hands are dirty again. "Shit." "Hm?" comes first, Vienne's entry into conversation (beyond greeting) catching H'kon, at least, by surprise. The brownrider pulls back some as she carries on, eyebrows lifting faintly, at first, and then dropping down, protective, as still she talks. "Vi-" and that is where the 'shit' comes. When the bartender does arrive, it's with a napkin, and not his bottle of special-ordered liquor. The bartender is afraid. The bartender leaves it near H'kon, and H'kon, with barely a glance to the thing, slides it the short way over the counter to her. Even when that delay is done, the best he can come up with is, "I am not certain how you mean." Vienne doesn't look at H'kon. She just tries to get the liquor off her fingers and frowns sharply as it ends up all over her hands. There's nowhere for it to go until the bartender and the brownrider work together to slide that napkin into her view. "Thank you," she murmurs, snatching it up and hurriedly trying to rub the booze off before it can dry. She dabs at her chest too, though those drops have already settled in and disappeared. "I don't know," she answers, sounding flustered and keeping her head down.. "I don't know what I mean either. I don't know what you expect or what I'm doing wrong. I was supposed to sit and I didn't." Which probably makes very little sense, but again, she doesn't really seem to expect any answer. And now she's trying to clean up her glass, wiping the sides meticulously and blotting the little ring that formed beneath it. H'kon presses the fingers of both hands down against the bar's edge, bracing himself as he turns a careful look toward the bluerider. "I cannot think of anything you've done wrong," is more carefully quiet than gently so. Eyes want to watch the care she's giving that glass, but he keeps his focus after only the slightest blip in that direction. "I do not mean to be making any demands upon you." And with his brow knitting the more, "I don't believe it's my place to do so." Vienne slips a little look his way, reluctant to make much more than the most fleeting of eye contact. "Well, I don't want to make any demands on you," she counters, babying the glass's bottom, setting it down only to lift it up again for a little sip that makes virtually no progress at emptying the cup. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or... I don't know. And why should you want to talk to me anyway? I'm no one. You don't know me. But how are you supposed to know me if I don't talk to you?" She shakes her head again and wipes the bar even though there's nothing left to clean up. Finally, she leans her elbow onto the counter and tips her head to regard the man beside her, eyes calm but still glassy and maybe just a touch imploring. She chews at her lip for a second before asking, "Why are simple things so complicated?" H'kon takes it all in in relative silence, hands still clamped to the bar, brow still furrowed. The slight shift of his head, before he manages to rein himself in, to keep watching the distraught bluerider alongside him, is the only indication of any inkling that his bottle of liquor - or his order in general, if not known - might have been overlooked in the heat of the moment by the bar staff. But first problems first. In a carefully measured tone, "I don't know what you would have me say." With the beginnings of a sigh, the slightest droop to his shoulders, "I had thought we spoke a great deal." There's a faint catch in Vienne's throat, like an impulse to speak that doesn't really go anywhere. He might hold his gaze steady on her, but the bluerider's eyes do meander a bit, from him to the bar, him to the bartender, him to the people passing by beyond his shoulder. Her teeth work at her lip all the while as she considers everything he's said. It boils down to one point that makes her brow furrow dubiously. "But did you like it?" That great deal of speaking that they supposedly did. H'kon's turn has come to be fully uncomfortable, to let that discomfort turn his eyes away from Vienne - she's not looking anyway - and to the bartender. From whom he receives another 'one moment' finger, as if the man had forgotten him already. That makes his teeth grit, and leaves him turning back to the woman alongside him. "I do not to speak to a good many things. And there is much of which I would not speak." He's managed a fully troubled look by the time he does look back to the bluerider. "This is important to you." She is looking, she just can't manage to hold her gaze so resolutely steady as he does. But is it really any surprise that Vienne's flavor of awkward silence and stilted conversation would be so very different from H'kon's? While he glowers in his way at the bartender, Vienne's small mouth opens and closes without anything coming out. She does spare a frown for the barkeep, so for at least a moment he has two rather small people making unhappy faces at him. But finally she decides to say quietly, "I'm not asking you to speak about a good many things." Her brow furrows there rather sharply, it might be a good impression of the brownrider if she was trying to do such a thing. "I'm not asking you to speak at all." She pushes the drink away from her and leaves the balled-up napkin beside it. "I guess I'm just asking if I should speak to you. And you can... nod or shake your head." There. Options for a response that require no talking. Meanwhile, rather carefully, she goes about trying to get herself off the stool, though it seems suddenly like the ground is further away than she would like. With the onus of talking off of him, H'kon finds it easier to keep watching the woman. One hand lifts from the table when she seems to have reached an end, lifts, palm upwards. "If you like. Though," and he dips his head quickly, "I will understand if you feel it unwise. Considering how events have turned." The hand that had been taking the place of some sort of half-open expression now drops a bit lower, as he realises the bluerider's dilemma with the stool, ready to offer support. "Is all well?" With one hand braced on the bar and the other holding her jacket, much of Vienne's focus seems to be on stretching one foot down as far as it will go, like she might will the floor to come up and meet her halfway. "I would." Like. She manages to get that much out before she's compelled to explain about her current trouble. "I don't drink much. I thought I'd try. Everyone... I don't know. It was silly." Without really thinking about it, she takes H'kon's half-lifted hand, as if that's what it was there for, using him to steady herself as she finally gets her boots on the floor. "The stools are tall." It sounds like an apology. "Ah." H'kon's arm is strong and steady, giving only minutely, after which he's sorted out the weight he means to take in helping the bluerider down. "They are," the man agrees with a gruff nod. It's about there that the bartender finally gets to him, and his attention is off of Vienne once more. A few quick words, describing the sort of drink, the label to look for. With the bartender off on his mission, the brownrider looks back to Vienne, giving a short, "You'll excuse me," before he tries to reclaim his hand. Whiskey doesn't pay for itself, and pockets can be tricky. Vienne stands there, rather mute and blinking, her mouth pinched faintly as the bartender finally does show up and her attention is readily distracted by the interaction between him and her kindly supporter. It does take H'kon's request for her to realize that she's still using his hand for balance and then she lets go quite quickly and her eyes drop to the jacket over her arm. She starts to pull it on while H'kon fishes for his marks. "So we're good?" she asks, wiggling her shoulders to get the wool coat to lay straight, her hair still tucked inside the collar. H'kon knows the price of these bottles by rote; monetary details are dealt with insofar as they are stacked neatly (too neatly) on the countertop. It leaves him free to take the bottle when it's deposited (with alarming efficiency) before him. The other hand stays at his side, but held away from his body slightly, at the ready if the little bluerider should tip, fall, or otherwise get closer to the floor than already she is. "I had not thought we were ever... bad." There's a distasteful frown for the way those words come out. "Are we?" She seems steady enough for now, though Vienne hasn't actually attempted to take a step yet. "I didn't know," she explains for her part, whether they were good or bad before. She slips a hand behind her neck to free her hair and there is a little wobble in her balance, though perhaps nothing to suggest she can't walk. "We're good now, though. If you want." She's not really looking at him, but rather giving her attention to fastening the buttons of her jacket -- probably more attention than they need. She glances up at him again just in case there's a reaction to see. H'kon's forehead lines shift, and he's left looking at Vienne, puzzled more than anything. "Speak to me then," he decides at the end, "as you can, without doing your wing a disservice." With puzzlement turning more toward concern, and that hand still ready, "Will Oswinth see you safe to your ledge?" His other hand tightens its grip on that bottle. "Or is that not where you mean to go?" The shy smile that shows up on Vienne's face is short-lived, hardly having a chance to seem pleased at this perceived progress before H'kon reminds her of pressures her wing might put on her. "I prefer not to have someone else decide whom I can or can't speak to," she says, drawing in a long, deep breath. She does glance around, so perhaps, no matter what she prefers, she would like to be aware of whether or not her wingmates are in the vicinity, but since she was drinking on her own, it's safe to say theirs aren't the faces that make up the Snowasis crowd tonight. "Would you... see me to the bowl?" she wonders, tucking her lips away for a beat afterwards. "The steps are snowy." Presumably Oswinth can take it from there. "As you will," is agreement this time around. H'kon makes as if to take the lead, though after the first step he's looking to his side, checking if the bluerider is keeping step with him or not. He might try to speed the process along - he's been out of his weyr much too long already, by his internal clock - but, if it comes to it, the brownrider can be patient enough to ensure Vienne moves more or less with him on their way from the Snowasis.
CommentsAzaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 04 Mar 2013 03:09:11 GMT. <
H'kons gotta H'kon. B3
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Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 04 Mar 2013 03:09:11 GMT.
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H'kons gotta H'kon. B3
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