Logs:Catch-Up Interrupted
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| RL Date: 13 September, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Drinking! And an expected interruption. |
| Where: Diving Cliff, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 10, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
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| Having arrived a good thirty minutes ago, R'hin and Leiventh have gone through all the rigmarole of arriving at High Reaches: greeting the watch pair, acknowledging familiar, old faces, and finally -- contacting K'del with the promise of a good alcoholic beverage to hand. He has no cups, of course: that'd be too civilized for manly former Weyrleaders such as themselves. Instead, he's settled on one of the rocks, passing the flask towards K'del for perhaps the third (or fourth, or is it fifth time): "So, my friend, tell me about your recent dramas. I'm sick to death of hearing of mine; surely your misery will make me feel better." There's a little bit of snow falling, but not enough that it will chase K'del inside - being rugged up helps with that. The Wingsecond, after taking another gulp of the warming liquor, laughs. "Not sure I want to even think about my dramas," he admits, shaking his head. "Might decide to throw myself off the cliff, instead. Women. Really, I'd say we're better off without them, except--" Except really not. "I'm going to be a father again, though, which is something. A good something, if you're me. Trying to focus on the good things, and not... it's been a bad couple of months." That tension radiating briefly off R'hin's demeanor is fading by measures. Being here is somehow oddly discomforting, even if he attempts to hide it under light banter and copious amounts of alcohol. "Please don't. I'd rather not have to valiantly dive in after you, pull you out from certain death, dripping wet, and have all the women crowd around me and hail me as a hero--" a beat, "On second thought," he gives K'del an unrepentent, encouraging sort of grin. "A father?" That's enough to derail his momentary fantasy. Congratulations! A toast then, to your child-to-be!" The other bronzerider seems genuinely happy about this, reaching over to clap K'del on the back. "Well, Z'ian hasn't driving things into the drink yet, so, there's still hope. The Holds'll always bicker and fight, just gotta ride that out." That makes K'del grin, abruptly. "You'd like that, I bet. Until we both died of hypothermia, or whatever. It wasn't quite this late in the season when I jumped off with Tiriana, and that was still awful." He's pleased, too, by the acknowledgement of his child to be, his grin still broadly in place. "We're pleased," he confirms. "First for her. Not for me, obviously, but-- yeah. It's good. And you're right. So far... so far, things are fine, mostly. You know, refugees aside." His gaze lifts, meandering off towards the bowl. And: "She's going to go up." "But it would be totally worth it. Think of the sympathy we'd get, the weeping women who would be upset to see us gone?" R'hin's chuckling darkly at the thought of it. While K'del looks at the bowl, the Monacoan is reaching to take the flask back, and to take a hefty gulp. "Figured," he acknowledges the other's comment with a brief grimace. "Leiventh was... anyway. Not much to do now but get drunk and let it happen. Telgar all over again, hm? On the bright side, it's not a senior flight." "Aishani," points out K'del, with a wrinkle of his nose. And yet, he's prepared for this because: "Sent Cadejoth out to go fly, stretch his wings. Chances are, he's too tired to last the whole flight. So, that's good." He really means business: losing business. Now, he stretches, drawing himself back up to his feet and shaking some melting snow out of his hair. "Don't let her murder me just for showing up, okay? And then we can drink more, after." A moment of surprise, then a pleased sort of laugh from the Monacoan. "Oh, you sly one. Poor Cadejoth; only wish Leiventh would let me do that. He's onto me, though. Suppose I can't complain; at least he isn't up after every green tail that flashes his way." With a groan, R'hin pushes to his feet, knocks back another gulp of the flask, and offers it to K'del. "I got your back, man. Always." With a grin to K'del, he gestures down the trail, with the intent to follow closely behind. K'del's grin is self-satisfied. "This is one flight, I am not up for winning." He needs every bit of the long slug he takes, and the one that follows it, but after that? He's as prepared as he ever will be for traipsing down the path (and not falling on his face), and making for the guest weyr. It's time. |
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