Logs:Don't Need To Get Laid Every Night
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| RL Date: 3 April, 2009 |
| Who: K'del, Mievne, Rimara, Ulestien |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and Ulestien don't hit it off brilliantly, Mievne is lost, and Rimara is just doing her job. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 5, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A layer of gray clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today. |
| Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl. The clouds are making it hard to see the stars, and the breeze that scuttles through the bowl this spring evening is a cool one, but for all of this, it's better than a High Reaches winter, which is probably why there are still people out and about on the Patio at this hour. Of them is K'del, a tall young man nursing what looks like the remains of a beer, and staring idly across at a couple of giggling girls, hanging out just below the steps to the bowl. At this time, Ulestien is wandering around, not suspiciously. His hands are tucked into his pockets as he's venturing towards the Snowasis, starting into patio. A careful scan and his gaze lands upon K'del for a moment, then back at the giggling girls. A soft drawl of greet and a wink in their direction, even before he's continuing on. But, it's not the bar where he stops, he's settling lear K'del with his hands tucked in his pockets still. "Not going to approach them? Just going to sit here looking miserable?" A pause, "poor man. Got yourself tied up with some woman, eh?" K'del welcomes his new companion with an upwards tilted glance and a laugh, as he transfers his glass from one hand to the other. "Wouldn't call myself /miserable/, thanks all the same. And no, got no intention of approaching them; too young, too giggly. Got myself plenty of more intelligent women to pick from, but-- mm. In the mood for watching, I suppose." The bronzerider shifts his position, crossing on knee over the other, and plays idly with the cuff of his trousers, before adding, "K'del. And you are?" Ulestien takes a moment to pull up a chair, then settles down with the slightest of slouches as he looks towards the giggling girls again. "You look it." He notes, chuckling softly as he looks towards the other. "Intelligent women, eh? Nice things." He's leaning back, folding his arms and not quite looking towards the other man, yet. "K'del, eh? Ulestien." Then, with a tilt of his head, he's eyeing the other. His brow quirks, "and, what is it that has you nursing a drink rather than spending your evening with some fine intelligent woman?" This draws forth a slow grin. "Just an idle glance," promises K'del, with the insistence of a teenager who doesn't want to be shown up. "Nothing miserable about it." So there. He's sitting, idly, lazily, in one of the chairs off to one side, now with Ulestien for company; his drink is half drunk, and, once again, he transfers it from one hand to the other. "Ulestien. Well met. Intelligent women - that's where it's all at. Nice to be able to have a conversation with them, after, without wanting to scrape your ears out." For the question, his shoulders shrug, as his gaze seeks upwards towards the cloudy sky. "Don't need to get laid /every/ night." Just most. There is certainly no shortage of buxom pretty girls in the Snowasis, but generally those buxom pretty girls tend to know what they're doing as they wait on the bar clientele. Some are flirtatious, others not always so. Those buxom pretty girls don't tend to wander looking a little lost with their blonde head of curls poking out the exit of the bar to the ledge. Nor do they generally carry a slate that they jot random things down on, such as what Mievne does now. Her mini-chalkboard comes out from beneath her arm and she adds a few quick lines to the sketch taking shape on her hide. Then, and only then, does she venture hesitant steps out from the shadow of the Snowasis' entrance. Ulestien chuckles once more, nodding his agreement and not pressing anymore on that, just a simple: "As you say." After a moment, Lest grins and nods his head in agreement. "Suppose you could say that, long as they don't blah your ears off /during/." Is his retort to that. "Nah, you don't. But shells, if you need a woman might as well find one willing than drown yourself in a beer." He's rising after that, "getting a drink, I'll get us a pitcher and you can.. Indulge yourself a bit longer." He's starting in the direction of the Snowasis before he hears K'del's reply (if any). On the way, he spots Mievne giving her a quick look over and the slightest of smirks along with a wink. "Ma'am." He drawls, and he's into the bar to fetch that picther. K'del's answer is not in words; his head turns after the other man, expression edging partway between 'irritated' and 'tolerant'. Although his mouth is open to retort, said retort never quite manages to make it out, and, instead, the young bronzerider watches his new companion in silence. Once he has disappeared within, however, his glance slopes idly back around, reaching - eventually - that blonde, buxom girl and her slate. Despite the difference in their ages, Mievne seems to attract his attention far more than the giggling girls, enough that, after a few moments of lingering consideration, he remarks, "Must be something interesting, keeping your head down like that." There's that step backwards as Ulestien passes, her clipboard coming up as a defensive shield under her chin, over her chest with those pretty blue eyes rounded on the passing man. Is that even a blush that colors her cheeks as he calls her ma'am or is that caused by the glance over and look he gives her? Reflexively, she corrects, "Mievne." But who knows if he's heard her name on his way to get a pitcher. Following Ulestien's path back to where he came from brings K'del into view; K'del with his lingering consideration and hook into conversation. Louder, for K'del's benefit, "Mievne," she states her name again cause it seems the easiest thing to do: repeat what's already been said rather than address his question. That, /that/ will take some time as she ducks her head back to study the slate before venturing another look up at the toffee-haired teenager. "I- I know it sounds stupid, but I don't know my way around and the map in the records room didn't make sense, so I'm drawing my own. Stupid, right?" Ulestien is coming back out, not too much longer from when he initially entered. Instead of rushing back towards that table near K'del, he's taking his time to join Mievne with a double glance over, just to be certain of what he saw when he entered. The grin on his lips grow, if only slightly. "Mievne." He repeats, though whether he heard her name the first time or the second isn't too obvious and he's not sharing. "A map, hmm? Would you mind terribly sharing that with me, you see. I've arrived not too long ago and could use one.. Or a guide." A wink and then he's gesturing towards the table with his head. "You're welcome to join us for a few drinks, Mievne." And, past he goes to the table and settling down that pitcher. K'del is given a grin, "help yourself." "Wouldn't go so far as to call it /stupid/, Mievne," K'del tells the bearer of that name, smiling warmly as he does so. "Makes more sense than just getting lost, anyways." He sets his glass down - now empty - his head shifting so that he can consider Ulestien again, now that he's returning; then, turning back, he concludes. "At any rate, I'm K'del, and if you need any help with that map, I've been here a couple of turns, so might be of use." Then, as he reaches for the pitcher, he adds, "And this is Ulestien. Apparently." There's that returning faint flush again that colors her jawline prettily and causes those plump shoulders to roll back. Her mouth purses, a little prim as befits the poise she /should/ be much more comfortable with, but then the image is all ruined when her teeth fall to gnaw on that lower lip of hers. A quick blue-eyed look darts down to the map she's drawn, with the chalk mostly smudged against her blue gown, and then up to find the boys again. "I don't drink." Boy wills he fit in /swell/ here. "And you can take a look at this, but I'd be a terrible guide," she says first to Ulestien, but then there's that unspoken but......... that lingers in those over-bright curious eyes when K'del introduces himself as someone who's been here long. Relief follows after quick steps forward. "Oh, /would/ you? I mean, be of use? I've never- I've only been to two places in my life and-," where are those mental filters when you need them, "Weyrs are strange. I mean, different, but strange. In a good way." Harper, most likely she is not. Lame, "I'm Mievne." Ulestien chuckles at K'del, "Ulestien, no apparently needed." A grin, "well, K'del. Since you've been here the longest.. Do you know of any maps, or shall I have to make my own with you as the guide?" Is questioned before those eyes of his find Mievne and her blushing. "Would you like me to get you some juice then, Mievne?" A wink once more and he's leaning back in his seat. "I've no objections to getting lost for a few hours if you know not the way, but, K'del here is kind enough to offer. It's quite the pleasure, Mievne." K'del's sympathy appears to be genuine enough. He's part-way through refilling his glass, but turns back to smile warmly at Mievne, his head inclining several times, quickly. "Can - absolutely." Be of use, apparently. "Know what it's like. Hadn't been so many places myself, before I got here; got lost, completely, a couple of times." Biting back mirth, he adds, "Strange. Yeah, that 'bout covers it, I think." Only now, now that he's addressed the /girl/, does he glance back at Ulestien, his lips pulling slightly as he considers, and not with much enthusiasm, the other young man. "Don't really need a map, once you've got the basic layout in your head," he tells him, carefully. Her repeated, "Really. A good way," comes a little crestfallen, as if she's just completely aware at the false notes just rampant in those four little words. Distinctly uncomfortable at the series of winks coming from Ulestien, it shows in the demure drop of her lashes and the slightest shift away from the smooth talker, Mievne nonetheless aims for polite, even if she fails at completely composed, and inclines her head just once. Acknowledgement for the other newcomer. "I'm fine, thank you." She even manages a smile across her mouth, and though the slate was offered to Ulestien to view in all its sketched map glory, it continues to fulfill its duties as her steadfast shield and protector for her chest. "Ulestien. K'del. Pleasure to meet you both." Beat. Then a quick aside that's loud enough for K'del to hear, given the proximity, but leaned towards the other newbie: "You might have something in your eye. You keep blinking funny." Ulestien is shooting another grin at K'del, a little less friendly this time, "well, if you don't /want/ to be of any help, you shouldn't offer." Is stated quite simply before he's folding his arms across his chest, leaning back into his seat as he looks towards Mievne. "If you insist, then." The woman's statement draws a laugh from the man and he shakes his head. "Not at all, I'm trying to flatter you, my dear. But I'm afraid it's not working. Alas, I'll have to try again another time." It isn't /quite/ outright laughter that Mievne's aside garners from K'del, but it's close; he definitely looks amused, despite busying himself with refilling his glass, and settling back into his seat. "Course I'm willing to help," he says, perhaps as much reassurance to Mievne as response to Ulestien's words. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, too, Mievne. Was there somewhere in particular you needed to get to, tonight? Or just some basic tips?" He stretches out, long legs angling out in front of him, and takes a sip from his glass, swallowing lazily. For the first time, there's a smile touched with genuinity, that spreads slow across Mievne's lips. Flattering her, really? She'll even blush to complete that image of utter coquetry. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped blinking funny and just," a one-shouldered shrug, slants a becomingly shy smile to Ulestien, "Talked." Without, presumably, the leering, flirting, or winking. Indeed, now, /now/, Mievne seems more open to unfolding that slate pressed against her chest and offering it over to the brown-haired man. Its lines are smudged, but the general shape of the lower caverns is present. Sort of. It's not a very good map, she's no harper. To K'del, attention diverting in the instant she's offered that map, there's a more avid, "I'd like to be able to get back to my room. The hallways in the lower caverns all look alike. Do you think they've," a hand wave indicates this nebulous entity that might be in charge of such matters, "Considered painting hallways different colors?" Ulestien quirks a brow and moves the mug towards him, filling his own, now. "The pretty woman," he retorts, chuckling before he settles that pitcher back down and is taking a drink. The smile and blush draws forth another grin from the man. "We'll talk then. Have a seat." He's offering one near him before he's taking the slate she offers. He's eyeing it carefully, then glancing up at her once more. "It's good so far, the colors would help. Could put your favorite color for the hallway your room is in. And then have them coordinate in a way you'll remember them, if colors are your fancy and you have a certain way to remember each color and what each one means." "Don't /know/ if they have, though I suspect not - the Headwoman's from here, born and bred, probably hasn't thought of it. Tell you what, though, I know her pretty well. I'll mention it, see if she's got any ideas," puts in K'del, around the edge of his glass. He leans in, to get a glimpse of the map, and adds in, "What you really need to do is count corridors, least until you get a bit more used to it all. Like - three doors, then four corridors, and then you're at the living cavern, that kind of thing." She doesn't sit yet, that offered chair garnering the most uncertain look. It might have boy cooties. "Thank you," is said very politely, but is followed with, "But I'm almost afraid it'll take me hours to find my way back to the lower caverns let alone to my room." That she should start heading for home soon is implied, though unstated. K'del and Ulestien are seated at a table, two glasses and a pitcher of ale between them, with Mievne standing close by, but distant enough to not seem /quite/ part of their get together. A slate with a very 'loose' map of the Weyr is held out to the brown-haired man. "Three doors, four corridors and then I'm in the living cavern." It'll become her new mantra, whether it's actually true or not, and she pulls her lip in a moue. "I was never good at math at all. Numbers just confuse me. It'd be nicer if the hallways were different colors. Oh!" Suddenly delighted. "With each door in each hallway different too, so you'll never forget if you live in the purple hallway with the orange door or the yellow hallway with the pink door." Ulestien chuckles and, is taking a swig from that ale he holds as he continues to look over the map then nodding his agreement with K'del. "That'll work." A pause, at her mantra and he's chuckling. "That works too, something catchy to remember it by." A glance at her suggestion and his brows are going upwards again, but he's not eyeing her like she's weird, nope. He's just taking another swig and not commenting on the colors. "If you let me finish my drink," since he has so ungratefully helped himself to Ulestien's pitcher, "I'll walk you home." K'del takes a good sip from his glass to punctuate this: it won't take long, it seems to suggest, though since the glass is still mostly full, it won't be /immediate/, either. If his lips twitch slightly for the repetition of his made up directions, he doesn't let it spread too far across his face. "I'll pass the suggestion on to Millie," is his promise, made with a glance from the pretty girl, to Ulestien, and then back. "Though... purple and orange? Clashes a little, doesn't it?" Later in the evening has Rimara working the patio, traded off with Ginella, who wants to work the bar for a change. She doesn't mind; it's a slow night in both halves of Snowasis, so either place isn't exactly going to net her much in the way of tips. Stepping out onto the patio, Rimara is forced to hide a yawn behind her hand, still in the shadows. After four days of working days in the record room, and nights in Snowasis, the toll is beginning to tell. Still, she moves with some degree of grace, weaving through the empty tables toward the three people seated on the patio. The conversation seems a bit strange, but Rimara is used to entering in the midst of chatting that sometimes makes no sense. Color coded corridors is no weirder than other things she's heard while waiting the tables, and a whole lot cleaner than many. K'del, she recognizes; the woman she doesn't. Her feet miss a step when she sees the other table occupant, but her smile remains, unshaken. Practice makes perfect, after all. "Evening, K'del," she greets, adding, "Ulestien," to the others present. A nod is given to the lady standing with the slate. Pleasant of voice, she asks, "Can I get you folks anything?" Hand on hip, tray balanced on the other hand; smile on face. Everything on that checklist guarantees her the picture of a nonchalant barmaid. Given the journeyman's knot on her shoulder, she can't be /completely/ stupid, but people are definitely smart in different subjects. Mievne? Brilliant with colors, enough so that she just gives K'del a /look/ for his talk of clashing. Not so brilliant with numbers at all, or not making people think she's weird. There's that fleeting smile passed on to Ulestien, still uncertain about the edges, with those deep blue eyes latching onto his own blue ones and despite all that's passed in these scant few moments of a first meeting, she is, in the end gracious. The smile grows, her chin and lashes drop, demure, and she gives a two-shouldered shrug that does wonders for that dress and her overall figure. Sincerity rings in her, "I hope you find your way home too." That's when she's interrupted by Rimara's arrival and a step is taken back to make room for the barmaid. "Mievne. I mean, I'm Mievne. Journeywoman weaver. And no, no. I don't need anything. I don't think." Ulestien grins as K'del ventures forth his opinion on the colors, but does not give the younger man advice. Instead, he's just grinning until that barmaid shows her face. Rimara is just given a tilt of his head in greeting. "Rima. We're fine, got ourselves a pitcher, earlier." Qeue his grin and then dismissing her to look at Mievne instead, and giving this woman a more genuine smile. "Aah, dear Mievne, I'll find my way, I imagine. Thank you, for that." The look is chastisement enough for K'del, who ducks his head apologetically, since the woman /does/ seem to know what she's talking about, and he, presumably, does not. It doesn't stay ducked for long, because there's Rimara wandering over; he greets her with a warm enough smile, and then, a shake of his head, his glass lifted in indication. "Got a drink already, but thanks." He takes another hefty gulp from his glass, and then another - it won't last long, at this rate, and he seems already to be working himself towards readiness to leave. To give her credit, the dismissive tone from Ulestien doesn't seem to bother Rimara in the least. Not an eyelash flickers. "You need anything, M'am?" she inquires, her attention turned to Mievne. She continues to stand there, until she gets an answer. Likely that reply is going to be negative, since the woman and K'del appear on their way out. "My duty to Cadejoth," she says to K'del, remembering her manners. "I'll be over there if you need anything else." This said to the general table, not to anyone in specific. In such a situation, where she's utterly new and lost and incredibly (and visibly) intimidated by her surroundings as well as the people, it's easy for Mievne to gravitate towards what appears to be a white knight: K'del. Gravitate, sidle, watch Ulestien with that same, uncertain caution, all the while trying to smile pleasantly, if a little bashful. As she shifts closer to the rider who might make sure she gets home safely, the slate held out to Ulestien comes all the closer to her chest, held there tight, once again fulfilling its unintended role as protective shield. "Mievne," is her quick correction, again, the smile now passed on from Ulestien to Rimara, turning more gracious for its new, non-winking and very much not-male recipient. "Please, call me Mievne. I'm not gray enough to be a ma'am yet." Ulestien is taking another wig from his mug, nodding towards K'del as he seems to be in a rush. "Clear skies, K'del. When you get on going that way." There's a chuckle after that. Lest, is most certainly not a white knight, a slightly rusted one.. Maybe. He's got that charming smile, but, Mievne loses his attention for another swig of his ale. "Thanks, Rimara," says K'del, pleasantly, pleased for her duties to his dragon, and for her helpfulness. "Hope your evening's not too long. You look tired." His attention slinks back towards Mievne after a moment more, particularly given her gravitation; it's evidently not too hard to please him, because his expression is almost, if not entirely, smug, right about now. Draining the last of his beer, he sets the mug back down upon the table. "Thank you," he tells Ulestien, now drawing himself towards his feet. "Welcome to the Reaches, and all that." To Mievne - an arm, offered, pleasantly. "Shouldn't be too hard to find where you live," he promises her. Warmth entering the smile at Mievne's request. "Mievne," is repeated, approximating her pronunciation. "Welcome to High Reaches." Her tone is a little less formal, now. "I'll be by the doorway." A jerk of her head toward the entrance into Snowasis, and letting her know she doesn't have to venture into the bar itself. Safer out here, believe it or not. "You're welcome, K'del," is said to the bronzerider. "It's been awhile since you came by. Nice to see you again." Pleasant, nice. And a smile for the arm offered to Mievne. "Take care. Nice to meet you, Mievne." And she turns to make her way back over toward the door. "If you need anything, Ulestien, you know where I'll be." Me. Ehv. Nee. Mievne. "It was nice meeting you!" Not that she remembers Rimara's name; was it even said? But the confusion with who Rimara might be, other than barmaid #3 in the grand drama of Mievne's quest to just find her damn room again, is fleeting. Just this little knit of her brows that only furrows deeper for the arm extended her way. No, she'll keep her arms clutched around that slate, thank you very much, her expression stating as much, if in a much more apologetic way. "And you too, U... Ulestien." She might not take up K'del's very manly arm, but she will walk in step with him as he attempts to take her home. Poor guy. He has on idea what he's in for between random turns and 'I think it's this ways? Or maybe it was that way? I can't remember at all. No, that looks familiar. No, wait.' K'del, his arm rejected, merely shrugs, glancing over his shoulders once more at the remaining two, then heading off, step-in-step, with Mievne. Poor K'del. Let's hope he gets to /his/ bed eventually too, perferably whilst still sane.
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