Logs:So Emotional
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| RL Date: 17 January, 2013 |
| Who: Barnabas, Z'ian |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Z'ian meets Bones, finds a kindred sense of humor. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 10, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Clear and cool. |
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| Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr(#2203RJ) A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath. Jaunty whistling is the singular sound of the quiet greenhouse as the sun begins to set, it's tattooed caretaker entirely responsible for disturbing the floral peace with a half-remembered sea shanty. "What do we do with a hmm hmm hmm hmm..." he doesn't quite remember all the words. Thankful considering his grating voice. Still, the soft whistling helps him occupy his mind as he tugs the straight razor from his pocket and flips it open, using the sharpened edge to slice open a burlap sack of flower bulbs. Just another night in the office. The bronzerider isn't often seen down at the greenhouse, it's not exactly his speed. But today Z'ian walks down the rows of plants, running his fingers along the stone wall. It's safe to say that the gardener and he are alone here amongst the vegetation. He takes a moment here and there to look into some of the hanging baskets, but he doesn't take any of the ripened fruit. The sound of Barnabas' grating voice travels through the air to him and lifts an eyebrow, heading in its general direction until he comes onto the other man. "Anyone ever tell you to keep your day job?" He asks, leaning against one of the pillars and considering the tattooed presence in front of him. Z'ian is given a blank stare for a few seconds, followed immediately by a series of blinks that must have been intentionally exaggerated. "Who the hell are you?!" Mock anger lasts all of two seconds before the big grin creeps out, and razor is snapped back into it's handle with a quick flick of a thickly cuffed wrist. "Haha! Just kiddin' ya." Cutting tool is popped right back into the pocket it came from, and after wiping his palm against the front of his shirt, he extends a hand out towards the stranger. "Bones." "Just a friendly interloper." The other man responds easily, expression amused. He watches Barnabas curiously, flickering a glance down and towards the knife that he snaps back into place. When he smiles, the rider does the same in kind. He flashes him a grin and steps forward, offering him his hand in return. Firm grip, confident. Not bone crushingly strong or weak and girly. "Z'ian. This is your place, huh?" He asks, looking around at the plants and pots. A single hearty jerk of Z'ian's hand is given as a shake, the big man's grip surprisingly weak given his thick forearms and rough callused palm. "Yup! King of the jungle, that's me." Bones heads back to work after the handshake, though with a slower pace so as not to distract him from the company. Flower bulbs are pulled from the sack one at a time, each one given a quick inspection in the dim light before being put in a small pile. "Got any questions? Want help pickin' out a nice flower for a special lady?" A sideways glance is given to Z'ian, and a chuckle leaves him. "Hehehe. actually, lookin' at you, you're gonna need a lot of flowers, ain'tcha gorgeous?" The wink that follows is downright flirtatious, though so over the top it couldn't be construed as anything but comedy. Z'ian is quite the comfortable guest, he follows along behind the gardener as if they've known each other longer than five minutes. He puts a hand onto one of the pillars and leans into it, fingers splayed against the stone. "Questions? No, no questions about the plants today. Maybe tomorrow an-" The bronzerider ducks his head and laughs, hand coming up to scratch at his chin. His expression turns thoughtful before he shakes it away. Some stray thought that nags, one that's not given voice just yet. "Not that today either." The gregarious over the top nature that Bones displays seems to sit right with him, for whatever reason. He grins broadly and reaches up, plucking a dying leaf off of one of the hanging plants. "Truth is, I'm so naturally beautiful that I don't need to bring women flowers. They bring them to me. They also bring their sisters. Sometimes cousins. I'm sure you know how it is." He gives Bones a knowing look. He knows that he knows. Maybe. A boisterous laugh leaves the gardener, pausing his work long enough to let it ring through him completely. "Hahaha, Finally! Somebody with a sense of humor on this cold ass mountain!" He reaches out to give a playful shove at Z'ian's shoulder, and there's a brief look of apology on his face almost right away. "Awww shit, I got some pottin' soil on ya. Hold up lemme just..." he dusts off the bronzerider with a few swipes of his hand, and gives a single nod at a job well done. "There we go, good as new." When done with his brief task of cleaning, he picks up the conversation where Z'ian left it. "And oh yeah, that's why I spend all my time hiding in the greenhouse! I just can't keep the ladies off'a me if I show my pretty face in public! Ha!" Bulbs are done being sorted by the time he finishes his joke, and he moves instead to the stack of pots on the table, laying out six of them in two rows of three. "Actually, most ladies tend to run away rather than towards. Must because I'm so beautiful I'm intimidatin', right?" Sarcasm is thick. He makes a big show of buffing his nails against his shirt, he's just that pretty. Nevermind the five o'clock shadow that's living on his face semi-permanently these days. "I'm a big fucking barrel of laughs, let me tell you." Z'ian confides to the larger man, grinning broadly. He laughs at the playful shove and glances down, shaking his head. "Damn, now I'm going to have to wash this shirt a whole month earlier than expected." That's probably sarcasm, the bronzerider might be growing a cat on his face but he does look clean otherwise. Amused, "You know what, guy, Bones? Most women don't know a good thing when it's walking up to them smiling maniacally and entirely plastered in dubious tattoo work. They're probably jealous of your hair too, I know that I am." He crinkles the leaf that he pulled down between his fingers, breaking off the dry bits while he watches Barnabas work. Just slightly distracted from the conversation by the sudden need for real potting soil, Bones holds up a finger at Z'ian and turns in place, head darting around the immediate vicinity to find it. "There's the fucker!" He says mostly to himself, lifting up the heavy sack of specially formulated and enriched earth, heaving it up onto the table with a small grunt. "Whaddya mean dubious!?" More mock anger, face brightening up after a fake pout. "Ha! C'mon now, if you pay me any more compliments I'mma start getting misty here." A mess of hair and ink, the grungy man stands at a tall 6'4. Unkempt brown hair hangs down past his shoulders in a wavy mess, framing and in part overlapping the edges of his face. Brow is heavily pronounced over sunken, burnt umber eyes, casting a shadow across them in all but the harshest of light. Bushy and uneven facial hair covers his mouth, chin, and upper lip. Broad shoulders slouch, rarely supporting his head up to the full potential of his height. Thick arms are worked to size by hard labor, painted with all manner of grimly themed and scar stained tattoos. Chest is burly down to tapered waist, broadening out again to dense thighs that carry him in his casual yet unsettling shuffle. Is the fucker another person? No? Z'ian follows the gaze of the other man, mouth twisting in amusement when Bones turns up with a bag of potting soil. The bronzerider lazily strolls over to the table and hauls himself up, sitting on the edge of it while the gardener does his planting work. He flicks the leaf to the ground and points a long finger at one of the tattoos on Barnabas' forearm. "Dubious, like... is that one a dog or a woman with the face of a dog? Is it both?" He asks jokingly, flashing him a lopsided grin. "Just don't start to actually cry, emotions scare me." Working a bit of soil into each open pot, Bones doesn't bother to wipe his hands clean before picking out bulbs for each one. It's not untill a specific tattoo is pointed out that he gives a grin and explains. "You mean my wolf girl? She used to look nicer. That one's a uhh... metaphor, guess you could say? Hehe." Potting soil is entirely filled in around the bulbs, now each pot ready to be placed around the greenhouse where room was available. The remaining soil is clapped free from his palms, and then wiped off onto his dark pants for good measure. "And I'unno. Sometimes I just get so..." he puts one of those big mitts to his chest, eyebrows pinching up in the middle as he starts to mockingly choke up. "... so emotional, y'know?" "A metaphor, huh? So..." Z'ian begins to drawl out, glancing at the wolf girl for a moment before flashing his eyes back onto Bones. "You mean that it's a drawing of one of your old ladies? I'm going to guess she didn't take too kindly to it." He jokes, grin crooked as he draws his finger through some loose soil left on the table. "Where do you get tattoos like that anyway?" The bronzerider asks, less joking and more curiosity. When his new companion begins to mock choke up he groans loudly. "Now you've done it. We can't be friends if you go sobbing around everywhere. How would that look?" Packing up the remnants of his work, Bones sets about sealing up any remaining flower bulbs and soil to be reused later as Z'ian gets nosey about his ink. "Where do you get em? Any place idiots with more machismo than sense have a pair of hot needles lying around. Ha!" He reaches up and grabs a piece of fresh hanging fruit, helping himself with a fresh bite right into the side of it. Perk of the job. "Mmph. That one wadn't for no lady in particular. Got her in the prison mines." Another bite is taken, thick jaw grinding up the sweet mouthful in just a few short seconds before continuing. "And I promise I won't cry in public, how's that?" "Is that how you announce it when you go to a place? Hello? Does anyone know of a man with too much machismo and no common sense? Does he have some needles? If not, I can lend them. Sounds complicated." Z'ian decides at the end, before pausing to think. He then adds, "Or maybe it's blissfully uncomplicated." No further explanation added as he's now sliding off of the table, booted feet thunking onto the ground. "That would be perfect. My dragon wants to have a face to face conversation." Quick way of explanation for his now getting ready to leave form. "I'll catch you around sometime. Grab a beer. No hot pointy things though." He gives Bones a brief, lazy wave as he turns to go. He stops though, hand swinging up to grab a piece of fruit out of a hanging basket. And then he's gone. More laughs ring through the otherwise quiet greenhouse at Z'ians continued jokes. "Ohhh, your dragon eh?" Bones knew dragon riders when he saw them, but still has a bit of fun pretending to be sarcastically impressed by the revelation. "Sure thing, hit you up at snowasis sometime or somethin' eh?" It's as he watches the bronzerider snatch up a bit of fresh fruit of his own that he throws out the parting shot. "Course yer payin' for the drinks now after you decided to steal my food! Ha!" With that, he finishes off his own snack, and starts whistling once again. No rest for the wicked. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Fri, 18 Jan 2013 03:47:01 GMT.
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Okay, this was pretty hilarious. XD Careful, Z'ian. He might start following you around the Weyr.
Varied (Varied) left a comment on Sat, 19 Jan 2013 23:09:12 GMT.
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They are fun together. A whole month earlier! Ha!
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