Logs:Abrupt
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 22 July, 2011 |
| Who: Devaki, K'del |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: K'del and Devaki have a more civil conversation, hurray. |
| Where: Snowasis, HIgh Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Elgin/Mentions |
  |
| 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. Gray, damp, dismal: it's no wonder that the Snowasis is doing a roaring trade this evening, as the air gets cooler in the absence of what thin sun there /was/. K'del's hanging out near the bar, with a finger of whiskey in a glass on the counter in front of him, and a cheerful barmaid to exchange flirtations with when she's not called to deliver drinks to anyone else. The young Weyrleader is dressed down, his shirt untucked from his trousers and his hair slightly rumpled; he seems to be having a lovely time. Devaki enters the Snowasis in the company of some of the candidates searched from various Holds. They're chatting comfortably, and the group as a whole heads towards a table, while Devaki breaks off and angles towards the bar. He leans up against the bar next to K'del without looking at him at first -- undoutedly not recognizing him at a glance in his casual gear -- and waits for the attention of the barmaid to shift back near his direction. It takes the barmaid (who is neither buxom nor blonde - instead, a bubbly brunette with a gap-toothed smile) a few seconds to notice Devaki: she's wrapped up in her flirtation, laughing merrily at something K'del has said before adding, "But we all know that /that/ isn't--" She breaks off, pressing a friendly smile into place as, eyebrows raising, she shifts her attention to the islander. "And what can I help you with, this evening?" That's when K'del notices the other man, turning his own attention towards him in a way that suggests it takes him a moment to recognise him-- though when he does, it shows only in the thin line of his mouth. It would seem Devaki recognizes the Weyrleader just about the same time, judging by his slight straightening of posture and twitch of lips. "Don't let me interrupt your little," Devaki gestures towards K'del meaningfully, "With work. Do go on. We all know that isn't--?" he looks from the Weyrleader back to the barmaid with an expectant quirk of brow. The barmaid flushes, but before she can stammer out anything, K'del's laughing, albeit slightly forcedly. "We were just having a gossip," he explains. "Linnere and I are old friends. It wasn't important." Linnere is hasty to add, then, the apology written into her tone heartily, "I'm sorry; I was distracted. What can I get you?" The Weyrleader is no longer laughing: he's drawn his mouth together in a way that looks rather more thoughtful, appraising Devaki idly. "No, no. I like gossip too," Devaki's all smiles and encouragement. "I'll order in a moment, I'm sure that lot won't even notice," he waves a negligent hand at the group of Holder-candidates who are chatting loudly -- but no more so than any of the others -- now that they've settled at a table. "Oh-- good evening," he adds, to the Weyrleader, as if only now just recognizing him. "Devaki, wasn't it?" K'del manages to sound relatively sunny as he comes up with that name, following it on with, "Good evening to you, too." Linnere is less certain, darting brown eyes from one man to the other before she explains, haltingly, "It was just-- well. We all know that Missa isn't as loyal to her weyrmate as she claims she is. That's all. I don't know if you know her, though?" "No, I don't, but-- I thought weyrmating was your equivalent of marriage?" This has Devaki's attention, if only to draw the parallels. "Do your people regularly break their commitments to one another with such disregard?" The question is voiced in a light tone, despite the content. His gaze flickers to K'del's glass as he nods confirmation of his name, then back to the barmaid. "I'll have what your Weyrleader's having. And another for him, please." K'del's expression turns unreadable, as though he's disconcerted by Devaki's order, but he certainly doesn't turn it down. As Linnere jumps into action, pouring the two drinks with a practiced hand before sliding them back across the bar to the pair of them, he explains, roughly, running his fingers through short-cropped curls, "It can be? But it's not so formal as that. Some people have open relationships; others less so. Weyrmating can never be exactly the same as a marriage, though, because of flights. So it ends up-- different. For everyone." "So it's marriage without commitment." Devaki sums it up rather blandly. "Odd habits, your weyrfolk have." It's still very clearly you, and yours, and your Weyrleader. He gestures towards K'del's drink, lifting his glass, "Consider it an apology. I was-- abrupt. Rude. The other night. And I interrupted your speech," there's a twitch of lips. "But I think Elgin is pretty sold anyway -- so you needn't worry about that." K'del looks about to object to that summation, but is distracted by the apology, which he accepts with a dip of his head and a quizzical glance. "It's-- I get it. It's fine. Thank you." He draws his hand about the glass, not yet lifting it towards his mouth, but certainly taking ownership. "Don't expect you all to find this easy. Or want the same things. It's-- it's fine. Appreciate the sentiment, though." Beat. "What I was going to say-- for riders, your first commitment has to be to your dragon. Everything else comes second, so it's-- different." Devaki is slow in lifting his glass, taking a slow sip as if savouring the liquid. "I imagine that's what your Weyrwoman meant when she said our Tradition were dead here." He is bland, though his voice is roughened by the alcohol. "At least she was -- honest." The group that Devaki entered with are getting a bit more rowdy, and the islander turns a smile on Linnere. "Would you mind getting a round of ale for my companions over there?" "They don't have to be," puts in K'del, frowning. "Some weyrfolk do marry - plenty of people do stay true to each other, if that's what they both want. Tiriana and her weyrmate do, with the exception of flights." He lifts his glass, giving it a careful sniff before he takes a sip. Linnere, meanwhile, flashes Devaki a bright smile, her embarrassment apparently passed, and assures him, "Coming right up. Just yell out if you two need anything else." She bustles away, leaving K'del to add, "But I suppose it will be hard for your traditions to stay intact, regardless. When there is conflict with them. And people have the opportunity to try new things." "Do you?" Devaki asks, conversationally, glancing down at the glass rather than K'del directly as he asks the question. He nods gratefully towards Linnere, gaze tracking the barmaid for a moment before swinging back towards the Weyrleader. "Not hard at all," he refutes, casually. "You'd be surprised at how hardy our people are. I heard about this gather-- I'm surprised, that you're letting us out, at the Hold of all places. Aren't you worried we'll... escape?" "Do I?" K'del seeks clarification, tipping his head to the side curiously, albeit only in an idle kind of way. He's rather more taken with the rest of what Devaki has to say, though: his mouth is drawn in, a deep breath inhaled and then exiled before he answers. "On the contrary, I see it as a gesture of good faith. We'll make sure you all have someone with you to keep you from getting lost, or to answer questions, but-- we don't feel like you ought to be kept at the weyr alone forever. Do you intend to escape?" "Do you stay together with someone? Are you committed to something other than your Weyr?" Devaki asks lightly. "To keep us from getting lost? You mean leaving? I'm sure your riders will love that. Guards /and/ babysitters, now. I didn't hear that in any of the Harper's tales about the noble dragonriders of Pern." There's a subtle infusion of something that could be taken as mocking, though his expression is pretty even. "Escape? No, the Hold is where I /wanted/ to be." K'del takes a careful sip of his drink rather than reply immediately, though his expression has taken on an unreadable quality. "I'm committed to Cadejoth. I've also got a long-term-- girlfriend, I suppose you'd say. We have an open relationship, I suppose you'd say." He skips over a large part of the rest of what Devaki has said, adding, only, "'Wanted' to be. That mean you intend to try and stay there, rather than come back here? Or that you did want to be there, and've decided against it?" "Cadejoth. Your dragon." Devaki nods as if he understands, though he probably in reality doesn't -- there's a considering sidelong look as he muses over that, taking another slow sip of his drink. As to the latter, there's a rueful grin, his answer casual and obviously facetious. "Too early to say. I might not like the view there." K'del confirms with a nod: his dragon. His laugh for the islander's last couple of sentences distracts him, however - he seems genuinely amused by it. "Well, that's a pretty important consideration," he agrees, apparently put at ease by the quip. "Kind of hard to beat the view around here." "It's certainly a lot more exciting than on the island. Not even any trees there to break up the monotony." Devaki throws out there, amusement lingering. "I expect you'll keep a close eye on me and mine, anyway." A round of laughter from the table of Hold-candidates earns the islanders musing gaze, and he rises. "If you'll excuse me, there's ale to be consumed. And I'm the apparent novelty of the evening with stories of our quaint ways." The drawling manner in which the last is offered probably indicates there's some exaggeration in the tales of the islands from this particular exile, at least. Gaze shooting towards that group of candidates, and then back towards Devaki, K'del affixes a level glance on the islander before he nods. "Thank you for the drink, Devaki. I hope you enjoy the gather." /He/ has a barmaid to get back to talking to-- as long as she can drag herself away from the other customers. |
Leave A Comment