Logs:Calculatedly Casual
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| RL Date: 7 August, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte, Reisoth |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'vier 'runs into' Tayte when she's working. It's totally casual. Or is it? |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Fayla/Mentions, Sisha/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Played via gdocs. |
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| 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.
He's been doing a good job of avoiding the Snowasis in general, hesitant to return after his little, uh, scuffle with that brownrider. And probably not particularly welcome. But it's been roughly a seven since H'vier's return from Cold Butte and he can't be expected to stay away forever. Ista will start thinking he's coming back if he keeps going to the bar there, after all. And they don't want him anymore than High Reaches does. He's there at the bar when Tayte comes back out. But he's not watching her. He's not even looking at her. "Whiskey." Totally aware that she's there, though. "Havi." It's said with a touch of surprise as Tayte's eyes fall on her next patron. Like a good employee, her eyes flit to find her co-workers' positions just in case they have to play bouncer tonight. Then back to H'vier, giving him a look over. "Promise not to break anything or anyone tonight?" She asks, even as she takes the pair of steps to her right that she needs to in order to reach for the appropriate glass for his order. So little faith. It's probably a good thing that H'vier isn't watching her that closely. "I'm not sure I want to make that promise. What if someone comes up and punches me in the face afterwards? I don't think I can take that risk." He does glance over at her after that, but looking at her only seems to harden his expression rather than make him seem more open. "I'd tell you that's unlikely, but..." They've both met him. Tayte knows it's a realistic possibility. She catches the hardening of his expression and it prompts a raise of her brow. As she pours, she notes conversationally, "There's a bluerider half into her cups over there that I think might be your type if you can get her away from her friends. Just got dumped." It's like the many times back at Ista when Tayte would give him a lead on his next conquest. She nods to the table in question where a trio of women seem to be having a good time. Then she sets the whiskey on the counter in front of him, delivering the price matter-of-factly. "I'm not here to get laid," is H'vier's response to the intel on the bluerider. Quick, someone take his temperature! He must be dying! He doesn't even look over there. What he does do is say, "This won't be my last." Meaning he might as well not bother paying just yet because he's just going to owe more before he decides to leave. "When are you off?" is his next question, a slightly abrupt change of subject, perhaps. But it makes him look at her more directly, a brow arched questioningly. Surprise, and yes, mild concern, register briefly on Tayte's face before she's nodding to keeping a tab open for him. Then there's the need to blink. It's almost dumbly that she answers him. "Soon, actually. As soon as Petra gets here to take over." Another patron leans in to signal to her that he's in want of a drink. "Why do you ask?" She questions, making a 'be right there' sign to the other man. Her manner is a touch wary; it could be that he just wants to know when he'll get to stop dealing with her. Why is he asking? H'vier doesn't seem to have a good answer for that and he gives his head a small shake, brows knitting together, before he gestures for her to go deal with the other customers. He'll be right here drinking when-- if she decides to come back, after all. He's unusually pensive for a man that's known for saying the first awful things that come to mind but at least it means he's behaving himself and nothing's getting broken. Tayte doesn't miss much, even surprised, so she takes her leave with his gesture and tends to the next drink to be made. This one is substantially more complex that the simple whiskey he'd ordered. It involves several bottles and Tayte's hands work fast to fill the order. Then there's another order to fill before she can come back. By that time, another woman has appeared behind the bar - Petra. She's getting organized though, so it'll still be a minute. "Make that any moment now." She comments to H'vier as she comes to stand before him. "Would you like to have a drink with me? Celebrate your promotion?" He doesn't watch her the whole time but he does find himself looking at her once or twice. And he's frowning every time he does until it fades back into neutrality when Tayte ends up in front of him again. It takes a moment for H'vier to follow along with what she says, but then it clicks. Right. He got a promotion. He couldn't have forgotten so quickly. "Sure. Can we sit over there?" he asks with a vague gesture toward a slightly more private booth. "I feel like we should talk. I'm not very good at it." Not with women, at least. Not like whatever this might be in his head. Tayte listens to everything. For all that she looks a touch unnerved by all this, she keeps her answer simple. "Sure. I'll meet you there in a minute. And bring you another drink?" She questions whether he wants one, waiting only long enough for an answer before she sets about her end of shift duties. It doesn't take her terribly long, but there are a good few minutes before she approaches the booth indicated, apron folded up and tucked under an arm while she carries her drink (and his, if he wanted one) to slide in across from him. "Congratulations." She nods toward his knot. That's the easiest thing to start with. The rest, she might leave up to him. Is this where she gets a lecture? And if so, from H'vier? Of course he wants another drink. This is H'vier. With a nod, he goes to sit down at the booth and wait for Tayte to finish whatever she needs to finish doing. He's sitting there, lost in thought or conversation with his better half, when she arrives and he looks up at her as she slides in across from him. "Thanks," is all he says about the knot. His mind is elsewhere. Still trying to figure out what he wants to say to her. But that's not going very well so what he ends up saying is, "Everything been okay?" Tayte carefully slides his drink toward him across the table, before taking a sip of her own. Actually, a gulp. She regards the bronzerider a moment, trying to determine which answer he wants. The easy one or the real one. She settles on candid, "Not particularly, but I'm managing." Her hand drifts up to pull loose the messy bun that her hair had been confined to while she was working, shaking her spread fingertips in her hair to unmess and re-mess it to hopefully something better, the all afternoon bun having put a little extra wave in the tresses. "Everything been okay with you? You don't seem very excited about that new knot. Is it not a good thing?" "Anything I can help with?" he asks, then catches himself to amend, "And I don't mean like before. I mean, that was nice, but." But that's not what he's talking about here. For himself, H'vier shrugs noncommittally and tries to decide on what to say. "The knot is good. Not exactly what I wanted. But I think it'll work out in the end. Fayla and I are willing to work together." Which is a lot more than he could say for his relationship, or complete lack thereof, with Sisha. Tayte's expression falters a moment when the bronzerider references how he helped before. She winces slightly, apology fleeting across her face. It might be clear she still has some regrets about her behavior on that night, but at least she doesn't launch into a babble on the topic. Instead she orders her face into a small, slightly sad but appreciative smile. "It's not really the sort of thing that there's help for, unfortunately. Just time and distraction. But I-- thanks, for offering. It's kind of you." Unsaid is the silently self-reproachful 'after the way I behaved'. "What did you want, if not that knot?" She queries with interest. H'vier can't help the slight snort he gives when she says the word 'kind' in some reference to himself. They just don't belong together. He knows enough to know that. "My own wing," he says, but not like it's actually something he wants to talk about. Not with Tayte, anyway. In fact, he's starting to look like he's not entirely sure what he wants to talk to her about. "I think, maybe, I should... go." Sure, he's the one that wanted her over here in the first place. But whatever prompted that has slipped away from him somewhat. Confusion touches Tayte's eyes, but doesn't make it onto any other part of her face. Instead she rolls her shoulders in a dismissive shrug, moving to slide out of the booth. "Don't trouble yourself." To get up, to leave. "I've got to go pick up Vali from the nursery anyway." She reaches to push a hand through her hair. Then, "Take care of yourself, okay?" As he said to her on their last parting. Unless he stops her, that's all there is, though the bartender might sway her hips just a little more than strictly necessary as she walks away. He should stop her. He wants to stop her - part of him, at least. But H'vier doesn't stop Tayte. Since she's the one that goes, he stays sitting where he is with his whiskey, watching the way her hips move as she walks away with a frown pulling at his lips. « Idiot. » The cool touch of Reisoth's thoughts don't even make the bronzerider blink. He's used to it. Besides, he can't argue. So he doesn't bother trying. |
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