Logs:Aftermath - Just Another Day
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| RL Date: 24 January, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, Vienne, Jo, Ainslee, Ceawlin |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Brieli does damage control in more ways than one while taking stock in the Snowasis. Dragonhealers get a bonus for BS. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions, Leova/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions |
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| It's the next day after the flight and Jo's seen on the patio ledge after being missing for its entirety the previous day. Make that, most of the Weyr really can't place the convict bluerider nor brownriders M'ron and Kaitlin either, and that's only if they managed any logical musings through the lusts of the day. But all three are seen now, at leisure at one of the tables and lost in a game of cards. Closer inspection shows that there's marks at the center of the space between the three, and yet the game must not be all that serious since tension is lacking is at least two out of the three faces. Jo is the one with the tension, but then, most would think that's normal as she idly rearranges her hand of cards while the brownriders are doing the same and bantering at the same time. And there's a couple of bottles between them. Of course. Jo and her associates weren't the only ones to make like a tree yesterday, which might just mean there are fewer people to question their whereabouts. And Vienne would certainly fall into the category of out-of-sight, out-of-mind, since no one is likely to wonder where she was off to during all the chaos. Now, though, looking just as fresh-faced as usual, no evidence of a heavy drinking or emotional unrest, she climbs the steps from the bowl, attention forward toward the Snowasis, already anticipating her arrival there by loosening the cream scarf she's wearing today. Except her eyes catch on Jo and linger there, waiting to see if the other bluerider will notice her in time for them to exchange a smile. "Strange things going in this Weyr," M'ron is commenting as he lays down his card, revealing to both ladies his high hand. "Taikrin and H'kon? The one of them might be a good thing, but..." - "I don't see how either of them would be a good thing," Kaitlin puts in, her open dislike of Taikrin laid bare as she reveals her sucky hand and reaches for one of the bottles. "What about you, Jo?" As for Jo, she just reveals her hand and takes the pot. As she leans forward in all her black leathers and feminine curves, eyes flick up in time to catch Vienne's gaze and a brow lifts a fraction before indeed, there's that faint little smile that's meant for a greeting. She slides the pot of marks towards herself as she suddenly says to her companions, "I think we better keep it low what we think, get it?" Dark eyes find Kaitlin's, then M'ron's before she's straightening up and sliding those marks into a suddenly opened little pouch. Eyes back on Vienne, "I've gotta run." Maybe there's a little falter in Vienne's smile for the timing of Jo's 'hush up, people' comment, and though she continues on, a backward glance tells her Jo is leaving the table and that second look from the black-leather bluerider has miss tan-wool lifting an eyebrow at her. Vienne's steps slow, waiting to see if Jo's running means she's leaving altogether or if she's coming inside. When it seems to be the latter, she waits, hands still holding onto the loose loop of her scarf. "Hi," she says simply and whatever questions she has wait in her eyes instead of on her lips. Only because Jo had favored to look up at someone else does both M'ron and Kaitlin turn their attentions on Vienne. Kaitlin seems to immediately dismiss her, the dirty blonde woman reaching forward to collect up Jo's abandoned cards as she states, perhaps all too casually, "Are you going to introduce us to your new friend, there?" Jo drops the pouch of marks inside her opened riding jacket, seeming to consider making introductions. Then, "Vienne. This is Kaitlin, brown Jormuth's, and M'ron, brown Hiyudath's. Equinox." The wing. She then jerks her chin towards the waiting Vienne and adds, "She's Vienne, new transfer. Blue Oswinth's. Happy?" M'ron's eyeing Vienne openly, his leer steady as he answers in all his brawn, "I'll be happier getting to know her a little closer. On my knee should do it." Kaitlin's snorting and Jo turning to give Vienne a look that says 'Get going or I can't save you.' "Hey, temptress," is her open greeting now, low as she catches those wordless questions. "Going in?" It's such a curt introduction that Vienne is left standing there, looking a little befuddled, her smile small and wry as she lifts one hand to give Kaitlin and M'ron a tiny wave. She doesn't actually speak up, though, but rather flicks a glance back to Jo as if leaving it entirely up to her whether or not she should step forward and say something. It does seem like Jo is trying to make this as quick as possible. Except then the transfered Igenite can hardly let M'ron's remark go without comment. The hesitation in Vienne's smile evaporates as it twists to one side. "Sounds like an appropriate position for you," she quips back playfully. She must have missed Jo's silent hint to run away. But at least it makes her forget some of those questions she was harboring. The little bluerider turns to give her friend a knowing smile for the 'temptress' bit, and then to start toward the bar, no matter what else M'ron might have to say. "Buy me a drink." There's a flick of her eyes toward Jo's jacket, where all those winnings were just stowed. "I'll be however you want me to be," M'ron makes his comeback as he's shuffling cards, laughing as eyes lingering right on Vienne's chest area. But then Jo looks to be heading in before Kaitlin briefly pulls her up short with a "Hey Jo. See you tonite?" The convict bluerider looks over her shoulder at them both before she gives jerky nod, then gestures for Vienne to proceed her into bar. M'ron's comment follows them in: "Take our marks and dash, like always! Should have that little slice joins us instead!" - "So I'm buyin' ya a drink now?" Jo's countering with light amusement once she throws an inappropriate finger gesture in her wake back at the other convict riders, much to their laughter as she heads right into the Snowasis bar. Snowasis It's early in the Snowasis, but the day after a goldflight makes it a strange sort of mashup of late and early and it's afternoon somewhere, as people are in various stages of dealing with the night before (or ongoing). It might be surprising to see one of the weyrwomen up and around this morning at all, but Brieli is here - not part of the lot recovering, but perfectly put-together as usual and seemingly at work, at the bar with a clipboard, making notes. If there's any reason she should be looking... suspicious or apologetic, she's hiding it remarkably well. Just another day on the job. Nothing to see here. Vienne might look back at M'ron, just once, just to slip a little smile over her shoulder and make some trouble, but as the two blueriders arrive in the bar, she turns her attention to Jo. "Sure, if you want," she accepts easily, giving her one of those cheeky smiles. "Or I can buy my own, if you prefer. What do they have here that isn't liquor or beer? Hot tea maybe?" She's just such a natural at fitting in. As her eyes drift toward the bar, checking for menus, they come to rest of Brieli. Vienne's immediate instinct is to look to Jo for how she's supposed to react to this particular weyrwoman on this particular day, but in the end, she just presses her lips together and steps on up to the counter, turning an easy smile on the goldrider, the sort that doesn't mean to interrupt her work. "Hey." Just a normal day. Yep. Jo is entering right behind Vienne, settling her black riding jacket together without closing it as laughter from outside the bar might be heard from the counter. She makes a beeline for the counter as Vienne answers her question, but then there's Brieli, sitting there like it's a normal day in the spring. When Vienne looks to her, Jo's giving her back a dubious look before she approaches. What did she have to be afraid of? "Lookin' pretty calm over there, considerin'," is her form of a greeting, flashing the goldrider one of cheeky smiles before she lifts a finger to try and flag down the bartender. Then, to the bluerider beside her, she adds, "Of course I'll treat. Order whatever ya like. They should have it all. Tea, klah..." and when the bartender comes by, she's ordering herself a beer. It's not a task that requires a lot of attention - it looks like she's tallying something, likely what's left of the booze after last night. Brieli can glance up and return Vienne's smile as easily, though it's brief. Back to her columns. "Hello. How are you two? Survive the evening?" There's a note of sincere curiosity there in her tone; like she knows what went on. Looking up again to arch her fine brows Jo's way, she asks, "Considering what?" There's a little shrug before, "No reason to lose one's sense over it. Azaylia and I are still here, doing the same thing we did before. That doesn't change." It's a point. Unless they get deposed like Tiriana, but never mind that. "I can get the next round," Vienne tells Jo, just in case she feels taken advantage of. "Tea, please," for bartender, as she pulls herself onto a stool with legs crossed and her hands smoothing her tan wool coat, ready to wait for the orders to be filled. As for Brieli's question of surviving, it's probably Vienne's slow inhale that says more than her nod. "It does seem like the situation isn't much different than before," she goes ahead and agrees, not that knows all that much about any of it. "Still, it's an unusual circumstance. People talk about things that are unusual" ... "We don't have to, though," she adds in with a quick check for Jo's opinion. Jo waves a hand towards the counter when Vienne offers to pay the next round, responding back, "And how else will I get ya to owe me later on, if I let ya do that?" Yeah. Jo always has an agenda. Instead of taking up residence on a stool, the convict rider chooses to lean up with her back against the counter, elbows resting behind her as she regards Brieli with a slightly lifted brow. "I was here and there," is how she survived the evening, which, doesn't say much at all. "How was yours?" dark eyes showing interest, amusement. But she goes silent when Vienne answers, and it's only when she looks to her that she chooses to answer Brieli's prompt for her greeting. "Something has changed, though," she notes, looking a little behind her as she waits for her beer. "As in, that something being Taikrin and the one with that face." That's all she recognizes him by. "It is understandable," Brieli can allow, glancing Vienne's way. "To discuss it. I certainly don't recall anything of the like happening as far as I read, and I heard it was... a rough night here." To put it mildly. "I'm just saying... I'm not going to lose any sleep over it." In fact, she looks pretty great, all things considered - skin darkened from the sun, well-rested - if only the relatively good mood she seems to be in would reach her eyes. There's a glance to Jo at her question, then a smirk. "Better than H'kon's," is all she tells the taller of the two blueriders, before she starts marking up her notes again. "I suppose that's true, but I don't see as how people will accept either of them for any length of time. No disrespect meant to Taikrin's abilities." To Taikrin's. Vienne looks back to Jo. "But... neither of them are bronzeriders," she murmurs, only Brieli continues on and the smaller bluerider starts to chew her lip. Rather than step in anything any further, she hesitates and then, "H'kon is the 'one with the face'?" she checks. "You mean that thing he does instead of smiling? Or... maybe it wasn't supposed to be a smile." Now she's not so certain she read the expression right in the first place. "That kind of..." And she does her best to mimic the weird twist of his features. It's not particularly flattering, for either of them, really. The bartender finally comes by with her beer and Jo's already guzzling it down like she has had a long day. "So where did ya end up?" she's asking Brieli when she mentioned it being a rough night at the Weyr. She's openly taking in that tan, and the fact that the goldrider does indeed look well-rested - but observant Jo can spot the difference in Brieli's gaze, the look given her speculative while she doesn't comment on it. She inclines her head when Vienne points out how neither the winners were riding bronze, remarking, "If it was goin' to be that kind of party, maybe Tacuseth should've tried his hand anyway." Pause. "Yeah," and she turns her head to catch the impression of the male brownrider in question, holding back her bark of laughter just a bit. "Yeah, that's him. I think he thinks I'm crazy. I don't know what I did to give him that impression." Right. It's back to Brieli for the last, a brow lifting at the way it's worded before she puts forth, "Maybe wishful thinkin'?" On who's part, is left out. Pointing with her pencil, "That's exactly it. That's the one." Brieli has to grin down the bar at Vienne's grimaces - because that's really the only thing you can do to mimic the brownrider's expressions. "I really don't know what his problem is," she sighs, shaking her head; it's certainly to both the blueriders, but as much to herself. When the bartender comes by with Vienne and Jo's orders, she'll put in one of her own; tea as well - not drinking so early, not today. Easily, she tells Jo, "I was south, we'd been there for a few days. They just... turned up. And don't take that personally, he thinks everyone is... something." With a wrinkle of her nose, the bluerider's last has her looking back to her notes. "It's just what I see happening. For the time being." "I got the impression he probably thinks everyone is crazy," Vienne supposes, a glance cast to the side and her smile dramatically tight, just for show. She's ready to listen attentively when Brieli is asked after her whereabouts -- "Sounds nice," -- good, safe topics around The Topic, the comfortable periphery. As the Topic seems to draw back to the foreground of conversation, however, Vienne becomes more reticent, and focuses her tea. There's the wrap of her hands, a sniff, a testing sip. "Well I did have a knife in my hand at the time," Jo decides to supply why it could be that H'kon thinks she's crazy, and she's not looking all apologetic about it. "And maybe I got a little loud when I thought he was givin' me the Eye." Just maybe. That beer is getting down in record time, though the bluerider always seems to appear like she's in a hurry. Always. She's even occasionally looking towards the exit, though not overtly so. Brieli's answer on where she was draws back her gaze, brows coming together momentarily before she slowly nods. "Good thing they showed up when they did, ehh?" she notes breezily. "Can't imagine what would happen if a queen just went up without anyone to chase her." She eyes Vienne when she falls silent, a brow raised in askance before she adds to the last, "I bet." Pause. "So back to normal. Right," she says to them both, turning around to face the counter as she drains her beer in an attempt to change the subject. "At least it's all over. No more speculations on who's goin' to rise when. Think I lost my bet, either way." With feeling, "It was nice." Brieli glances over to Vienne, like you don't know the half of how nice, but she doesn't seem too inclined to go into details, just adding, "Relaxing, at least. It's good to be away, sometimes." As for Arekoth's timing, her tone is as easy as Jo's as she takes the tea from the bartender. "Oh, I imagine it would have worked out even if they hadn't. Perhaps for the better. But we'll never know." There's a purse of her lips, before, "Over for most. I think some people might disagree - but I am sorry to hear you lost your bet. I never like to lose." She may grip her cup a bit tightly as she takes a sip. "I don't know that that would happen," Vienne puts in, apparently not entirely mute. She's remarking on Jo's comment about a queen rising without chasers. "I just... I don't know if a queen would rise is there was no one to chase." She wets her lips and looks to Brieli, who clearly knows more about the mechanics of riding a female dragon than the two blueriders standing in front of her. At least it's a philosophical question, rather than anything concrete. Also, "I think everyone probably lost this bet." "It's no big. Good thing I've just gained it all back from my dear friends outside," Jo is easy to respond on her losing the bet, setting the empty beer bottle on the countertop and turning back around to resume her lean. By the sound of 'dear friends', they don't seem so dear to the bluerider. To Brieli then, "Maybe send those coordinates over to my Tac?" she asks on where Brieli was that was nice and sunny. "I think I can do with a warm rest myself." When Vienne comments to the philosophical part of the matter, it's also not something she has any knowledge on so she glances over at the goldrider to hear what she would say. Okay, that might make Brieli give Vienne a sidelong glance that's a bit shifty; interesting theory from the former harper! Look at that. But she's always quick to recover and does so smoothly - if not totally convincingly. "I don't think normally, no. I'm not sure if Hraedhyth had something to do with that - they were arguing a bit beforehand. I think they set each other off." But would the older queen still set Iesaryth off if there were really no dragons around at all? There's a little shrug and a sip of her tea before she arches a brow at Jo for her 'friends'; even so, "I'll have her do that. All the animals are non-lethal at least, and there's fish." "I mean, I'd imagine she might glow, but what would really drive her to take the sky if not the bronzes? And maybe those that turned up did so because they were in touch with her, aware of her, wherever they happened to be." Vienne catches that shifty little look that Brieli gives her, and instead of cowering from it as might be expected, she lifts her brows in silent question. "I don't know, though. I've never read about it happening." She takes a nice long sip of her tea and sets the mug down, unfinished, but perhaps finished anyway. She looks over to Jo, an apology in the little smile she wears for the way these musings have left her silent. Jo falls silent, eyes moving, being observant of every single word say - or in Brieli's case, shifty expressions that get taken in with a guarded study. That sidelong is certainly noticed, and all of a sudden, she's turning to order herself another beer. She lets the women around her talk as she gets her new beer, seeming to not have an opinion on flights, but as she brings the bottle to her lips and eyes Vienne with some intense speculation, "Seems like ya learned a lot about this at that Hall of yers." Casual comment. Perhaps one would note the calculation of the words, though the convict rider is then tips that beer back before she can say anything else. Once she has her drink, "Appreciate it," goes to Brieli for place coordinates. "Think a rest would be somethin' good for like...now. I was taught how to fish." Which means the place sounds like something amiable to her. As to that brow for her 'dear' friends, to her she merely does a half-shrug and a "Sort of." And it's not like there's any bronzes that might have a particular connection with the younger queen. Not like there's not a Fortian bronze there on her ledge half the nights. Brieli doesn't give Vienne a death glare or anything like that, but she doesn't really acknowledge any unvoiced question. But it's not really rocket surgery, as they say, if you have the pieces to put together. She stands at the bar with two blueriders - Vienne and Jo, a mug in hand. Idly, "I think Szadath was watching her, but I think he and Hraedhyth have always gotten on better." There's a laugh for Jo's comment on Harper's training, shaking her head a little. "Like now," she echoes. "Given the level of violence recently, I don't blame you." "Fish?" Ainslee has no problems with butting in where she may not necessarily be welcome. (Places she isn't welcome? Impossible! They don't exist!" The curvy little greenrider has approached the crew standing by the bar, slipping onto a nearby stool with a nod for the group, flashed smile to Vienne, quirk of eyebrow at Brieli. She heard /violence/. A hand lifted flags down the bartender; she orders a late lunch and an early drink, swivels about on her stool to focus on the triad, pushing an errant curl away from her face impatiently. Well now that both Brieli and Jo are giving her odd looks, Vienne starts to do it right back at them. "I..." A hand comes up, a finger vaguely arched toward the bowl. "I have a dragon?" she starts to explain, sounding rather bewildered. "I had weyrling lectures. And... thoughts?" Definitely bewildered, and a laugh slips in with her words. "I'm new to High Reaches, not life." Maybe she should go hang out with H'kon in the 'you-alls-are-crazy' room. She takes another deep breath and presses the tea away from her, definitely finished with it. "It does make sense, though, doesn't it?" she asks Brieli. "Not that they're necessarily even speaking to one another, just that there's some contact, however light or fleeting, and he senses and knows and comes." She gives a shrug and slips from her chair to stand again. And for the violence, she's biting her lip again, at least until Ainslee arrives, like a lifeline and a breath of fresh, non-suspicious, air. "Hi," she greets, her smile quick and relieved. Jo has something to say, her lips parting and all, but it gets stalled by the interruption of a curvy little greenrider. With a beer in her hand as she leans casually up against that counter, her study's on Ainslee and...her curves...for a good while. Something says get the bluerider to cut her gaze straight to the goldrider and say, "And I'm actually not involved in any of it. Could be a fluke. I'm gettin' where and when I can." She could be joking, but given floating rumors about the convict rider, maybe not. Then, her study's on Vienne, especially when she looks bewildered and gets up off the stool. There's that glimmer of roguish amusement with her demeanor though, and she finally comments on the matter, "Well, I wouldn' know about it. I just know Tac wants to chase any and every green that flips her tail at him, and there hasn't been much in the thought processes behind that." Speaking of greens and their greenriders, "I'm Jo," is what she suddenly gives to Ainslee, leaning back all cool and collected. Arching brows over her mug, Brieli takes a sip of tea before nodding to Ainslee seriously. "Fish. In the ocean." Presumably somewhere warm and sunny from how tan and rested she looks - and for that quirk of the greenrider's own eyebrow; "I heard something about fistfights. More fistfights, that is." She's still looking for information on the former, at least - maybe not so much the latter. As for Vienne, quickly, "It makes sense. It... That..." She can't quite form the sentence, or maybe it's that she shouldn't; with a shrug, she just gives up and makes some more marks on the clipboard before her. "We'll give you a gold star," she tells Jo. "One for every ten days fight-free. I might have to make that a Weyr-wide thing." The bluerider's speaking-of-greenriders introduction has her amused, by her smirk. "I'm so glad to /hear/ that you have had /thoughts/, darling!" Ainslee's teasing of Vienne is just that: teasing, light and airy and full of amusement, mirth obvious in her husky alto directed to the bluerider so recently of Igen. A mug of something that smells deliciously spiced - mulled wine or hard cider - is delivered before Ainslee has time to comment further, and distracts her for the moment, long fingers curving around the makeshift handwarmer. Blue-green gaze flickers up from her mug at Jo's introduction; a subtle shift of smile occurs, a knowing. "Ainslee," her own voice is bright, despite the husk, despite the Bitran burr. "Green Kalaith's." Her attention deliberately travels back to Brieli. "I'd rather have fish on my /plate/." Such a straight face. Such a straight line, regarding fisticuffs: "Did they involve H'vier? He's such a dear, /sweet/ lad." Maybe she's confusing 'ass' and 'lad' in her head. Early senility. (Well, he /does/ have a nice ass...) "That would simplify things," Vienne mentions to Jo, a smirk tugging at her lips while she gathers her hair back from her face, just to keep it all neatly organized and out of her collar. "And explain some things." Her glance slides meaningfully from the bluerider to the redhead and back again, that teasing grin still lingering. "Now you're just trying to make me jealous." But she also has a sly wink for Ainslee across the way. It's all very light and fun, at least until Vienne actually has something to say about the violence, and for more serious thoughts, it seems like Brieli is the girl to talk to. "Fistfights during the flight?" Her lips purse. "Or just general ones?" Her eyes flick around momentarily, as if looking for some explanation as to how she came to live in a place where there are 'general fistfights'. "Blue Tacuseth's," Jo, for some reason, must let Ainslee know that once the introduction was made - as if it was SO relevant on the topic of flights that they're on. She has her charming little smile for that knowing one, the mouth of that bottle ever lingering close to her lips. Vienne's comment on jealousy earns her - and her form - an equally studying look before she quips, "Maybe I am." A tease for a tease that comes easy. Eyes seek out Brieli when she hears exactly what is meant by 'violence' - which clearly, this was news to her. "What fistfights?" On gold stars though, the bluerider gives a little smirk and drawls with ease, "I try to keep my fists to a minimum inside the Weyr, anyway. Though, if there's someone ya need me to have a word with, my services are always available." She's sure Brieli can discern the truth of her offer, as she gives the goldrider a sidelong pointed glance. "The first fight did. I don't know about the second. I wouldn't be shocked. Something to do with Hraedhyth's flight. I'm still trying to sort all that out, and I'm not about to go looking for Azaylia." There's an inward shudder as Brieli has a bemused glance for Ainslee. Who knows what she'd find. Setting down her half-empty mug, leaning over the bar tallies, she looks a little disappointed that Vienne's asking her for details. She wanted details. They're all useless gossips. "The first one," she tells the recent transplant apologetically (sorry you moved to Fight Club, yeah), "Was H'vier and Bones, and H'vier claims it was over a girl, but I don't buy it." That's offered up generally, since apparently she's the one to pass on the news; tapping her nose, "Broken." With a flash of a grin for Jo, "You and Taikrin now. I've got it." Ainslee slips a glance betwen Vienne and Jo, a shake of her head: bemused. Her food has arrived, and thus the greenrider falls silent, tucking into her sandwich with a gusto that's at total odds with her trim figure. A few bites later, she's lifting her eyes to Brieli and nodding along. A quick wash of cider to clear the way for a reply: "Oh yes, I heard about that one. And of course I /saw/ them - H'vier and Z'ian - when Leova patched up their bronzes. They looked like... punching bags." She shakes her head: -so- unproductive. So many fights. And Vienne has barely heard anything about them. Her glance moves from rider to rider as each one shares their little pieces of the puzzles, though instead of watch Brieli's face, the former-Igenite's eyes drift down around her hands for a beat. When she lifts them again, she can share a bit of information from last night, for those who stayed away longer than she did. "I know some dragons were in rough shape afterwards. Last night. I wouldn't be surprised if things weren't entirely... civil." She nudges her stool in and nods over to Ainslee. "There were some dragons in the bowl, too. To patch up." And there is sobriety on her face when she looks back to Brieli. "I don't know what's usual here but... It looked pretty bad." And somehow it might sound like she's hinting that Brieli should probably go talk to Azaylia. Wait -what-?? As Jo listens about the fistfights, the usually cocky bluerider actually appears suddenly.taken aback. She blinks, looking from goldrider to greenrider at the names bandied about, looking as if she didn't hear that right. "Bones was...?" There's that quick note of ...was that concern? - as she frowns, clearly haven't heard that one. "And Zac-Z'ian?" She seems even quieter now, falling into silence before she asks, "Who's this H'vier-person?" It's even given with crafted non-chalance. But then Brieli says something cryptic to her, and brings up Taikrin's name, and she's blinks once and eyes her for a moment. Her and Taikrin? With curiosity, "My offer's the exclusive one, darlin'," she tells the goldrider with a twitch of a brow as she finishes off her beer. "Don' know what ya got goin' with my wingmate." But then her head is suddenly turning towards the entrance, something flickering through her dark eyes before the bluerider finds herself straightening up. Giving a little grimace as she's totaling columns, "Leova had to deal with that. I'm sure that was pleasant. And why do men insist on breaking their noses? They're never the same." Brieli notes that last with a touch of petulance; in at least once case, she takes that insistence very personally. Ainslee's sandwich holds her interest for a moment, if only due to the redhead's enthusiasm for it before Vienne's seriousness has her pausing; listening to the bluerider with a slow nod, she explains, "I just don't want to... interrupt anything. I'll go before the end of the day." Jo's reactions have her watching the woman with interest before admitting, "I'm surprised at Z'ian. Didn't think he was that sort. And... I'll keep that in mind. She just offered help if it was necessary." Her dark gaze flickers between the entrance and Jo briefly. The four riders are grouped at one end of the bar, with drinks and food. "Ha, civil." Ainslee has a rueful expression across to the shorter of the blueriders. "You have -no- idea." Ainslee does. Her ichor-stained clothes do too. A more thoughtful expression lands upon Jo, different from the earlier carnality: appraising, perhaps, in an entirely different connotation. H'vier? "He's one of the transfers." There's an amusement underneath, opaque: she and Vienne round out that recent complement. "The bronzerider from Ista." A brief sympathy for the thought of Brieli- "Facial symmetry is so /nice/." Broken noses mess all hell with that. "I've not met Z'ian properly, or this Barnabas," she offers to the group as a whole, lifting her sandwich to take another enthusiastic bite. Where there are just so many things to pick up on here. The little familiar slip that Jo makes, her sudden attention toward the exit, the bits of conversation passing between her and Brieli that don't quite hold enough information for Vienne to follow. Not that it really matters much, since the slight woman appears to be more busy getting her scarf neatly rewrapped about her neck than actually keeping track of these juicy tidbits, though she does glance between her companions now and then, and for the goldrider's reply, Vienne meets her eyes with an understanding nod. Then to Ainslee, "H'vier," she repeats the name. "I'm still waiting to see a pair of knees. I'm sure I'll meet him one of these days." Then her gaze ends up on Jo again. "Are you heading out? I'll walk with you." Ceawlin's arrival comes about the same moment that the entrance to the Snowasis gets all that attention. Bad luck that, really. Dressed neatly for the weather, the strap of an instrument case spanning from right shoulder down to left hip where it then reconnects with the case itself, the harper looks fairly immaculate in appearance. Pale hair, pale eyes, sharp features and slighter of stature than most boys his age, his entrance aims to go unnoticed. Hands are free of accoutrements of his craft; all the better to be getting a drink with, as the bar appears to be his first destination if the direction his feet travel give any indication. Jo seems a little off her game now. There's no oogling looks nor inappropriate teases that come so easily to her lips. Usually so in control of her emotions, hearing about the gardener and the bronzerider seems to have put her in a bit of a mood - although, by the sudden tenseness of her black leathered body, it could be something else entirely. She quickly drains her beer and sets it down on the counter, turning towards Brieli for her comment on Z'ian. There's a guarded look in return for it and she even gives a half-shrug of open non-chalance along with a breezy "Yeah. Keep it in mind. Yer the only one I'm offerin' it to." Pause. "Another transfer," is given on H'vier now, turning to fit a long study on Ainslee since she answers about him. Yeah, she seems to be filing that name away. She flicks quick glances to them all before she suddenly steps away from the counter and says, "Got something I need to do." She nods to them all and starts to head away, an urgency in her step before Vienne's words draw her up short. She looks back but doesn't quite look at her, seeming to be in communication with her dragon before she suddenly says, "Sure." And then she's heading out with that urgency, her booted steps heavy and heard. Wistfully, to the greenrider, "It is. Was. My hair got cut, it grew back. His nose..." There's no help for broken noses. Brieli can only sigh, give a little shrug; these are the things she must deal with. The goldrider lets Ainslee explain H'vier, not inclined to add in her opinion for now, instead noting the pale kid entering the room before Jo distracts her. There's not much she says to the bluerider, merely arching her brows and giving Vienne a questioning glance and a little wave. "Have a good day?" Vaguely, maybe more to herself than anyone, mystified, "I didn't even know they knew each other. Huh." She shakes her head, dark curls falling back over her shoulders before she tells Ainslee helpfully, "I think Jo might have some more violence in mind." Ainslee eyes Vienne and Jo as they leave, sighing audibly over the topic of broken noses. "I think scars are preferable. At least they don't-- there's not-- /crooked/." She can't even talk about it, the topic distresses so much. Regards to Jo and violence, "I think so, too." A flicker of hilarity, fleeting: "I really doubt she's going to earn any gold stars." She's almost done with her sandwich, but one glance over at the person suddenly proximous her location at the bar yields her with a /too/ bemused expression altogether. She shifts a glance to Brieli, swift askance, eyebrow wriggle: watch this. "Ah! Ceawlin, isn't it?" *Such* sweetness. (Such a bitch.) Jo might get to make an awesomely smooth exit, all 'places to be and no-nonsense things to do'. Vienne, on the other hand, doesn't stand a prayer of catching up. She might step forward for the 'invitation' she gets, if it can be called that, but when Jo takes off at lightspeed, the shorter woman gets left behind. She twists on a heel to glance back at Ainslee and Brieli, to give them a bemused look and a shrug, a little parting wave. "I'll see you later." She only has time to make passing eye contact with Ceawlin before turning forward again and heading off in Jo's wake, clearly nowhere near enough to be walking with her, but leaving just the same. Women are evil. Ceawlin hears his name -- although, let's be honest, he was fairly aware of the large group of riders that had congregated -- and turns a cool expression to Ainslee. Lips thin even further (if possible) and the hint of petulance struggles to stay out of his expression, and only for a moment does he seem to consider what to say. "Ma'am." Cool tone matches cool blue eyes matches the cool expression. He's a cool cookie. Just ignore the red tinging the too-delicate ears that hints at some temper held in check. To Brieli, a truly more neutral countenance is presented, "Ma'am." Seems only right to acknowledge the innocent bystander sitting beside the she-devil. Spare attention is given to the departing riders, but once their exit is noted, his focus switches back to requesting, "Something warm," of the barkeep. Brieli is resigned to this fact: "No one is earning any stars anytime soon." Not that she minds that much, by the quirk of lips and the light in dark eyes. If the goldrider did try something shady, wouldn't fighting be a fine distraction from any questions about why she was there and who was there with her? Wrinkling her own (straight, perfect) nose girlishly, "I said nothing after the nose. Otherwise, it's over. I'm not that charitable." Perhaps women are, in fact, evil, if the weyrwoman is that shallow. Her sharp, dark gaze shifts from Ainslee to Ceawlin with interest, taking in the apprentice's reactions or lack thereof; the red flushing his ears. With a brilliant smile, "Hello. You're new here? And terribly formal." That's not weighed good or bad, it just is. "What about /me/?" Ainslee is surprisingly plaintive. She wants gold stars! "Or are you only giving them as incentive for those who /do/ fight? I suppose I could go knee someone in the balls...." Her eyes trail back to Ceawlin. Merely coincidental, /surely/. "Child," graciously spoken. "How are you? Cold?" She brandishes her own mug comfortably, once-filled with steaming mulled cider (or was it wine?), now lukewarm and mostly gone. "Must be cold," she declares- "Your ears are pink." Eyes of blue eyes narrow for a fraction of a second while Ceawlin regards Ainslee. A Faranth-awful squealing sound grinds between the boy's teeth before control is regained. He /is/ only on the cusp of manhood! "I am /fine/." The topic of his ears is ignored. /Ignored/. Though Brieli's comment earns her the focus of his attention, stiff as it is. "I am Harper trained." As if that should explain it all. Underlying the statement is the carefully unstated obvious addition in that it is /proper/ training. "My name is Ceawlin, senior apprentice from the Harper Hall." Pride is the one emotion to warm cold blue eyes. Ainslee? Gettin' ignored, baby. "I was going to give them out for not fighting. Maybe the dragonhealers should get a bonus for putting up with so much... So much. Over the evening. It seems fair. And better than gold stars." Nepotism. Or reward for a job well done! At least she said all of the dragonhealers. Brieli does look a little concerned for Ceawlin's fate, but continues to Ainslee, "I heard H'vier got kneed in the balls. In the first fight. I laughed. I felt a little bad for it, but only a little." She examines her own cup, slides it across the bar to be discarded. Turning back to the apprentice, she tilts her head to the side, regarding him. "I've met Harper trained that are more and less formal. Vienne, for example. And I'm Brieli." That's likely unnecessary, if he's a harper. She doesn't bother with the dragon. Ainslee briefly shakes her head at that gawdawful sound, sending Ceawlin a Look thereafter and turning more towards Brieli. Especially when a-power-that-be says the word /bonus/. Ainslee, very easily bribed. Sex, booze, and money: what else does a girl really need? But her sandwich is suddenly finished and her drink is pretty much gone, which means she's rucking her dishes away and offering Ceawlin a rare treat: her willing removal from his proximity. "I know it would be appreciated," is her tactful statement to Brieli. "It's distracting as all hell to try to work on something when-- a gold flight," as if that explains it all. Ahem. "I've a wing meeting, but. It was good to see you... both." A flash of bright smile to both goldrider and Harper, she sketches a comic salute to both; and then she's dropping the necessary mark-pieces on the bar and sauntering out the door. Does she fluff her hair as she goes? Of course she does. This is /Ainslee/... walking away. It doesn't do to *not* take advantage of showing off one of her best sides. (The hair, of course. No, seriously.) "I suppose it depends on the person and the education received," Ceawlin admits, softening a touch when the greenrider flees (it's his story he's telling himself anyway). "Well met, Brieli," the boy greets, though he is a good little harper and already knew who the goldrider was. If only by name. "What is her name?" he asks of Brieli, after enough time has passed that Ainslee is well out of earshot. The gold flight? Totally not mentioned by /this/ newly arrived Harper to the weyr. Studiously avoided, even. Watching the redhead leave, "I think much of it has to do with the person, yes." Brieli doesn't sound harper-trained, but cultured - quite without an accent beyond whatever of Reaches has begun to creep in. "And well met, of course." She turns back to offer Ceawlin a brief smile, before, "She didn't tell you?" Perhaps she shouldn't be offering up greenrider's names, if not. Turning back to the clipboard, "How are you finding your assignment to date?" Business talk is perfectly fine with her. "No." Ceawlin's tone is clipped in answer, a frown drawing between his brows until he forcibly turns away from the frustrations of evil women. "I am. And, I've more or less settled in." Lips curve slightly, eyes are kept just shy of making eye contact with the goldrider, when further elaboration comes. "I'm finding it most interesting here." Though the boy works to keep his own words accentless, to the point where tone comes off dry, a hint of Crom here and there surfaces despite best efforts made. "Is there anything in particular you have a need of, ma'am, for me to do?" Now, gaze settles full and direct upon Brieli, whether she returns it or not. "Ah. Well." Brieli won't fill in that particular blank as she adds up her columns of little marks with a pencil, bemused at both the way Ceawlin avoids eye contact, the faint trace of the mines that slips in and out. "More or less," she echoes. "Does that mean you require anything still? Or is it just the weather?" By her tone, she wouldn't blame him. She does straighten for 'interesting' though, lips quirking a touch. "I'm sure it is interesting. I'm sure the Hall will be quite interested in any observations." If she feels the attention on her, she doesn't seem to notice it until she's done with her adding. It's only then that she looks up, and assesses the apprentice with dark, serious eyes, as if he's something on sale and she's figuring out what he's actually worth. Bluntly, "I don't expect that anything you'll tell me will be kept in confidence, but it's nice to be kept in the loop. Do let me know if you hear anything." Not anything interesting - just anything. Helpful! "I have no need of anything this day, Brieli, ma'am," Ceawlin answers, his tone a touch less stiff. "I'll let you know what I hear," the promise comes with a small little smile that does little to warm the chill from his eyes. "I'm sure the Hall has already been interested in the tales I've come to be able to weave into epic poems," okay, maybe not, but he plays good at convincing, "for history keeping, of course!" Pushing back from the bar, sans drink, while blue eyes never leave hers, "It was a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to further exchanges." Words are polite, formal and this time, enunciated without that pesky accent! "I'd best be going," one shoulder's shrugged, indicating the instrument, "I've a lesson to be getting on to." Beat. "Congratulations, by the by." On her first flight! "Of course," Brieli murmurs politely for history-keeping, though she doesn't look like she's buying it. Even so, she offers a nod by way of farewell, seeming on her way to finishing her business in the bar as well. Her lips quirk again for Ceawlin's congratulations, but she'll accept graciously, "Thank you." But that apparently tops off her limit for people for the moment; once the apprentice clears out, she takes her clipboard and her pencil and heads for the bowl with brisk, purposeful strides. Why'd she come home again? |
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Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Fri, 25 Jan 2013 07:21:31 GMT.
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Azaylia might try to trick herself into thinking it's 'just another day' but Brieli's got what it takes to make it one!
I love reading these scenes where people come and go so naturally. We have a great group!
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