Logs:Business in a Bar
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| RL Date: 3 August, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Z'ian |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: H'vier wants his own wing. Spoiler alert! He doesn't get it. |
| Where: Seedy Tavern |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Sisha/Mentions, Fayla/Mentions, K'tan/Mentions |
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| Other than showing up for the flight, H'vier has been pretty good about staying out of the Weyr. Maybe not great about staying at Cold Butte, but you win some, you lose some. Sorry, Sisha. Today he must have figured that Z'ian has had plenty of time to settle into his knot and Reisoth was in contact for his rider to meet with the Weyrleader at his earliest convenience. There was likely some expectation that Z'ian's earliest convenience would be soon. Either way, H'vier is already having a drink and sitting at a table rather than the bar when they agreed on meeting. No, he didn't get a drink for the other bronzerider. It's not as if Z'ian has had much if any contact with H'vier since the leadership flight before last. Everyone knows, the one where they beat on each other on the way to the infirmary. So the request comes as a surprise to the newly minted Weyrleader and the response is in the positive, they'll come. Just not right away. But he does arrive, pushing through the door to the shady little tavern. The other bronzerider isn't difficult to spot amongst the rather drab looking patrons and he heads towards him. But not before stopping at the bar to grab a drink first. Eventually at the table, he pulls out a chair. "Evening." Since he's, you know, waiting for someone, someone entering draws H'vier's attention easily and he watches the other bronzerider as he goes to the bar and finally approaches. He doesn't get up or anything like that, but he nods at Z'ian when he joins him. "Evening. We need to talk." Well, H'vier needs to talk. "I can either sit here and suck your proverbial dick for awhile or I can just come out with it and tell you that I want my own wing." "..." That's the sound of Z'ian staring across his glass at H'vier. He hasn't had the drink yet, so now while he contemplates what he just heard it seems like a good time to start. Swallowing what has to be cheap tavern whiskey down, he takes a breath. "Aren't you out here because you beat some brownrider senseless? Why would I want to give you your own wing?" He hasn't said no yet. This was probably the response that H'vier expected. That or he's just had enough to drink to not look surprised by the fact that Z'ian isn't jumping over himself to give him a fancier knot. "He was asking for it. It's hardly a crime to give a man what he's asking for." Brief smile. "You want to give me my own wing because I'm good at what I do. Because Reisoth is the smartest dragon in the sharding Weyr. Because I can deal with people. Like. Me." "He asked you to beat him up? That doesn't seem likely." Z'ian doesn't appear to be expecting any kind of rational arguement on that point. Instead he takes another swallow of his whiskey and rakes his fingers through his hair. "Look- No. I'm not going to just give you your own wing. For several reasons, one of them being just look at the situation you're in right now." They're having this conversation in some random tavern as opposed to at the Weyr itself. However, "I have some re-working I need to do with Iceberg, that whole wing is a mess. I'm going to bounce K'tan back to Glacier where he belongs." "I want out of Avalanche. And not just to some other wing with some uppity cunt calling the shots." Again, H'vier doesn't seem to have expected Z'ian to just give him his own wing, even if he thinks he damned well deserves it. There's something to be said for confidence, right? "Besides, you owe me. If it wasn't for your damned dragon, we would have won the last flight and none of that shit would have happened." "You can have out of Avalanche to whatever wing you want. But you're not going to be the Wingleader of any of those wings." Z'ian can only lift his eyebrow at H'vier for that last part of what he says. "Incorrect. You're not own anything. Your dragon could possibly be the smartest dragon in the entire fucking Weyr, but unfortunately he seems to have gotten all the brains." Draining the rest of his glass. "So you can either float around the Weyr, a miscreant with no direction or you can take up the overly generous offer of being Fayla's Wingsecond with Iceberg." It starts out so promising, there. He doesn't rise to being called stupid. His dragon implies it all the time so he's fairly well-practiced at brushing it off. But then Z'ian is offering him Wingsecond of Iceberg. Under another sharding woman. It's pretty obvious that H'vier is torn, though maybe agitated is a better word, by this fact. Of course he wants to accept, but answering to women has never been a strength of his. His jaw tightens, he probably seriously considers declining, but in the end, H'vier throws back the rest of whatever he's drinking and says, "Fine." "Nice doing business with you. I'm sure you understand it's somewhat conditional and if Fayla tells me you've been calling her an uppity cunt?" Well. Z'ian probably figures that he doesn't have to explain exactly how fast H'vier's not going to be a Wingsecond anymore. And maybe since the two have never pretended to be friends, he doesn't start now. "Report to her once you're done serving your time." The newly minted Iceberg rider is given the barest of fingers-to-forehead salutes before he starts out the door. On one hand, H'vier has gotten part of what he wanted. Which makes him dislike Z'ian slightly less. On the other hand, it's kind of a backhanded promotion, which makes him dislike Z'ian slightly more. Overall, it kind of evens out. "Yes, sir," he says as the Weyrleader turns to head for the door. He's going to need another couple drinks, himself. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 05 Aug 2013 00:06:10 GMT.
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One thing about H'vier, he definitely has big bronze balls. ...But then, that's his problem isn't it? :3
I like how Z'ian handled it. ^^
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