Logs:A Game of Darts and Words
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| RL Date: 29 May, 2015 |
| Who: R'hin, Keysi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Keysi is drawn into a game of darts by Savannah's wingleader and a spar of words about indulgence follows. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 12, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Winter night, light snow |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions |
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>---< Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ) >----------------------------------<
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.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Keysi F 17 5'7" athletic, brown hair, grey eyes 0s
R'hin M 53 6'1 lean, sandy hair, pale blue eyes 17s It's been a cold day, as one expects for winter at High Reaches. The wind is frigid, but the fact hasn't prevented many from congregating in the Snowasis after the dinner hour has passed. It's warm inside the bar, and lively, too -- there's some dicing going on in the far corner, and over by the bar, it looks like Savannah and Glacier are in the midst of a game of darts. R'hin's leaning against the bar nearby, proving moral support, it seems -- watching rather than participating, making helpful (or perhaps unhelpful) criticisms of both teams now and then. It had never been her focus to mingle. Prior to Impression, she'd had her Craft, post she'd been nothing but busy. Even tonight is no different, or at least starts as such. Something about late night and the jovial background noise of the Snowasis has helped Keysi think when the familiarity of the barracks becomes too mundane. Satchel is slung over her shoulder, bound by not-quite-perfectly fitted riding leathers, and is burdened with hides overtop more hides. Some rolled, others stuffed; didn't matter as long as they fit. Entrance into the room is easily overlooked perhaps, and she's headed to a particular back table- until the game of darts for some reason or another catches her attention. Why now? It never has before, but maybe a distraction is more warrented than she thinks. The weyrling brownrider picks a seat at the bar instead, letting the satchel fall to the floor with a hefty thud. "Who's winning?" Her interest is moderate, and the question asked to anyone who'd hear her. "Glacier," R'hin conceeds with a shrug, lowering his glass. As pale gaze settles on Keysi, his gaze is gaze assessive for a moment, sweeping towards her satchel with a furrow of brow. "Hey -- A'gon needs to step out. You're perfect," he stabs a finger in her direction. "Yes?" the latter is to A'gon, who looks kind of startled for a moment, shrugs, then steps over to offer the darts towards the weyrling. "Sub in for him, won't you?" Busy trying to name or at least note those who are familiar within the group, Keysi pays the assessive gaze little heed at first. Only when his exclaimation is particularly about her does she glance back at Savannah's wingleader with her stormy grey, intense eyes. Although her expression stays level, difficult to read even in the best circumstance, there's a furrowing of her brow that speaks something of confusion or hesitancy, though probably both. Her words, at least, confirm it, "I.. don't often play games." The girl hedges, though it's not entirely a 'no'. "I don't believe I've ever played darts, I doubt I'd be much of an adequate substitute." From A'gon back to R'hin, her gaze flicks, studious more of the latter for all that she's heard of him yet never seen herself. "Well, you'll never know if you're a champion in disguise until you try it," R'hin says, accompanied by low-throated laughter. It's hard to tell whether he's laughing specifically at her, or it's just a typical amusement. "Go on," A'gon encourages, "We're already losing, kid. Can't make it much worse. And if you win, you get to lord it over those Glacier riders forever." R'hin nods agreeably: "Pretty big feather in the cap for a weyrling. Impress a couple of wings full of riders?" Or fail miserably in front of same, though he doesn't voice that aloud. "Nobody's a champion without practice." Keysi responds, though lower in volume as if more to herself than to argue with R'hin himself. There's obvious external motivation there, her eyes distanced beyond the room for but a moment and with the return of her attention, a heavy sigh. Whether the sigh indicates defeat or empowerment to take up the challenge, doesn't really matter. It's a challenge nonetheless, and it can't be turned down. "So be it." Is the verbal agreement, the weyrling girl sliding from her seat to stand closer- at least, closer than she was. She seems unphased by the concept of lording over the other wing, though the most astute may seem something of amusement at just the corner of her lips. The remainder stays as serious as ever. "They talk about beginner's luck often enough." Keysi says, picking up a dart on the bar as if to weigh it in her hands, "Guess it wouldn't hurt to see if that's true." "You've never heard of natural talent?" R'hin clucks his tongue briefly, though there's that lingering amusement in his voice all the same. He looks pleased when she accepts the challenge, pushing away from the bar to get a better view, some of the Savannah riders calling encouragement, some of the Glacier commenting on the need for Savannah to rely on weyrlings. "Aim for the middle. Pretty easy," comes the Savannah Wingleader's encouraging voice from close by. "Still has to be honed." Keysi's response isn't quite as serious as her first statement, her expression taking on something more readable. Something of a fire to it, eyes lightly narrowed, placed in the spotlight as she is. Few steps take her to the standing line, the comments from the Glacier riders being paid about as much heed as if they'd not been said at all. Not yet anyway. Glacier's managed to spark her temper into full flames once already. "I think I can figure it out." Is that a chuckle? Might be. That odd, cough-like sound that's so rarely made and fortunately entirely short-lived. Hand-eye coordination once great at punching range is challenged with drawing the dart to the side of her face, immitation of what she'd seen the riders do before, and then the swift motion of release. >---< NorCon: Dice Roll 10-sided die x 1 by Keysi >--------------------------< 4 >-------------------------------------------------------------< Failure. >---< The response from the weyrling has the bronzerider chuckling. R'hin's grunting his approval at her words, otherwise silent as she takes aim. The dart hits the outer edge of the board, but doesn't stick, instead falling to the floor, earning a mixture of sympathetic, "You'll do better next time", and quiet chuckles from the watchers. R'hin, though, says, "Aim a little higher with the next. It drops more than you think it would." There's some more good-natured jabs from the crowd as they wait for the weyrling to take her next throw. The harshest of chastisement comes from herself, though Keysi manages to keep it under wraps. Lit eyes, quite similar to how she gets prior to punching something, are focused ahead. Tuning out all but the most obnoxious comments, her gaze sweeps to the bar again to find the next dart. A little higher, fine she can do that. "It looks easier when you're across the room." Still light, for her, and made as a comment to brush off the first failure. Though it's somewhat obvious she has a hard time not doing well at something. Next attempt up, aim a little higher, and throw. >---< NorCon: Dice Roll 10-sided die x 1 by Keysi >--------------------------< 10 >-------------------------------------------------< Exceptional success! >---< The dart sails higher this time, and starts to drop. It looks good... and there's a moment of stunned reaction from the watchers when the dart hits the bullseye, quivering in place but staying. And then everyone's talking, and Savannah's riders are closing around Keysi with congratulations, slapping her shoulder gleefully, while R'hin continues to look pleased, as if it was he that scored the bullseye. "Well done, Keysi. You might well just pull Savannah out of this yet," he murmurs, gesturing towards the dart board for her last throw, as the crowd surges back. This time, there's less taunting, and more watching-with-baited-breath from the gathered riders. Keysi saw the dart hit the middle, that little spot that apparently means the most out of all the other little spots. But it's more when she's suddenly surrounded that she realizes that's more than a mediocre good thing. At first, she tenses, defensive at the surrounding riders but in the same breath she relaxes. Not one to bounce in celebration, it does at least egg another grin out of her, the angry glint in her expression dissolving into one of subtle surprise and acceptance. As the crowd withdraws, she offers a short shrug at R'hin. "No pressure." A joke, as dry as she tends to make them. It may just be a success at lightening her up a bit. A deep breath, an exhale, and the last dark is plucked from its spot on the bar. She mimicks what she did before, hoping that form and arc were what gave her that hint of success. >---< NorCon: Dice Roll 10-sided die x 1 by Keysi >--------------------------< 2 >-------------------------------------------------------------< Failure. >---< "None at all," R'hin replies, just as dryly as her -- in fact, in almost exactly the same intonation. His gaze is on Keysi, rather than the board, and it's the exhales of disappointment from his wingriders and the sudden cheering of Glacier that tells him the weyrling's third dart didn't strike true. But still, she's given supporting sympathy from Savannah, A'gon leaning in to wink at her, "Come find me later for lessons," the greenrider says, before disappearing towards the bar. Apparently losing means that Savannah buys the next round of drinks. "That bullseye, at least, deserves a drink. What's your pleasure," R'hin asks Keysi, gesturing towards the bar as if giving her a selection, "Or," with a sudden grin, "Should I guess what I think might work best for you?" Keysi takes a few beats to look away from the board, annoyance lingering there. Eventually, though, it's A'gon her first response is directed to. Notably awkward in light of social support still despite the weyrling months, she seems uncertain how to reply to him. "I... sure." What? She rubs the back of her neck, offering just the slightest remains of her almost-dissolved grin as suggestion of her appreciation to R'hin. "Sorry. Maybe next time." It's not inviting herself by the way she says it, more like a note that it wasn't so terrible afterall. She slips back into her seat again, which is conveniently next to the wingleader. Uncertain hesitation follows his question, though before enough time passes for one to think she doesn't know what to pick, she states, "...I don't drink." Stick in the mud, this one. "Next time," R'hin echoes, with a sudden laugh. "Very well," whether it's by accident, he seems amused enough to indulge what he takes as her self-invitation. He gives her a speculative look as she says she doesn't drink; with a tip of head, he signals to the bartender. "A shot of whisky for me. And some of that Igenite tea for the weyrling. The dark one." The bartender wordlessly disappears, while the Wingleader's attention turns to the girl. "Control," he says, missing the lilt that will turn it into a question, as if he's sure about the reason why. Keysi is inwardly pleased with R'hin's response, though little on the outside would show it. The wingleader's laughter seems to at least make her not-so-stern, the intensity of her face softened by it. "Is it usually evenly matched? Or is the fear of growing broke on buying rounds?" Her question shifts briefly back to the game of darts, "And do you think A'gon meant it? Lessons, that is." They have to learn to dance; darts seems a longshot ahead of that to practice. Intent eyes follow the bartender as R'hin gives both their orders, her head nodded in confirmation of that choice being acceptable. His single word that follows brings about a little of that intensity flushing back into her features, "Is important." As if his word was but the start of a sentence. "Neianth wouldn't care, but I've always been this way." She offers that much, to the non-question. "Normally it ends up pretty even, surprisingly. If just for the fact that the losers buy the winners a round, so the winners get worse as they get drunk -- it keeps things surprisingly fair," R'hin concedes, with a rueful grin. His brows go upwards at her question about A'gon. "He sure meant it. Just don't be afraid to elbow him in the ribs if he gets too handsy." There's a fondness in his voice as he speaks of his wingrider. His fingers tap against the top of the bar, near-soundlessly. "Mm. Even if that's one's natural state, one should, occasionally walk on the other side. If just for perspective," the bronzerider says, casually, as the bartender returns with their drinks. The tea he sets in front of Keysi is dark and bitter to the nostrils, and the first taste might make it seems the same as first impressions. There's a much more pleasant aftertaste to it, though, berry-like with a hint of afterbite. "I won't be." Keysi lets herself grin a little more openly at that, the sternness that keeps her face so plain and beyond-her-years fading in its creases. She's not so much smug as confident, if the difference can be ascertained. "If you step to the otherside, there may be no coming back." The tea is drawn closer to herself once it's set down, with both hands as if she requires to regard it first. Picky she is, and the lightness of her face hardens back into a level expression so as not to give away the immediate reaction to the bitter scent and subsequently taste. Once the first taste is settled with, she nods, "Perspective is sometimes best left to seeing clearer from afar." It's playful, as much as she is playful with her nonfluctuating voice. Grey eyes regard the wingleader with a sidelong look following her words. R'hin goes still for a moment, then shakes his head. "There's few things you can't come back from. But, too, there's few things that you don't learn from, when you step out of your comfort zone." He reaches for his glass, with a nod to the bartender, dropping a couple of coins on the bar's top. "Dragons, for example, require control when they are young. But to do so, so heavily when they are older would be to do them a disservice." With a tip of his glass in the weyrling's direction, he takes a generous gulp of the whisky, exhaling slowly after, while he watches her expression while she drinks, yet if he's disappointed by the lackthereof, it passes quickly. The harshness of the whisky changes the timbre of his voice, marginally, as he answers her latter with a grin that suggests he rather enjoys the verbal sparring: "Yet life would be very boring if merely viewed from afar. One should participate in life, no?" The reaction to the tea comes more at the unexpected aftertaste, and Keysi simply can't hide the brief twinge of grimace and extra swallow that it enforces on her. Her fingers tap the glass, as if wanting to drink again, yet going over the consequences of doing so. "Testing limits in that manner will never be a problem." Her voice lowers in volume, in a way that shows impatience for that day to come. "There's been plenty of stepping outside of comfort zones. For example, dancing." A hand is swept off in a questioning gesture, "I'm yet to be convinced I need to learn how to step to a tune to be able to lead others. Do you dance?" He's the perfect audience of that question, afterall. A pause follows as she considers his response, her gaze passing over him briefly as he takes his shot. "There's participating to the fullest in what matters, and there's indulging in the unnecessary. Would you say booze deserves to be in the first category?" "Dancing?" R'hin echoes in surprise, not quite stifling the low-throated chuckle that follows. "Yes, I dance. It's one thing that I find joyful and enjoyable and without -- even for me -- a downside. If you've yet to be convinced," he echoes her intonation precisely, again, "Then you clearly have the wrong teacher." Her latter question earns a laugh, after which he answers with a twitch of lips, "It depends on the cause, dear weyrling. As celebration of a victory, or a drowning of sorrows, or a toast to an ideal or ambition or desire, it is most certainly in the first." Given his history with the Weyr and position, his answer is quite the opposite of what she was hoping. "Or might well be me. I cannot say I 've given the whole concept the benefit of the doubt." Keysi admits, though the seriousness that follows all of her statements thus far falls short at that one. She shakes her head, "A celebration made hazy to memory, deciding to hide from the hard times with a glass or two or three..." She trails off, then adds with a clear instance or two in mind, "And I feel I've seen more toasts end in drunken punches and bloody noses than ambitions coming to light." Letting the spar continue, she forgets what was in her glass and takes another gulp. The result is her setting the glass down harder than she means, some of the tea sloshing over the sides. "It helps," R'hin says, with a sudden grin, "To find a boy -- or girl -- that you like to help teach you. Failing that, a harper -- they are always charming, even if the charm often comes with a bite." A cluck of his tongue expresses his disagreement with her sentiment, quick to respond: "It is not hiding. Sometimes the awful realities of what we must do in protection of those we care for, are responsible for, are greater than any one man, or woman, can bear. A moment of respite, to allow the mind to cope, is understandable. I'd had," he taps his own, empty glass, "Many a drink in honor of riders who have died for this Weyr." A beat, as his pale gaze settles on her, even and scrutinizing: "It's true. Many use it as you say, working out aggressions and emotions on each other, on those they trust. Better that, than the alternative. But you are a rider of High Reaches now. Control isn't always in your grasp. How will you cope the first time your brown loses a flight? The first time," he gestures towards the distant weyrling barracks, "One of your clutch mates dies?" The question isn't judgemental so much as intrigued, the bronzerider keenly interested in her answer. "I wouldn't know who.." Keysi is genuinely perplexed at that, failing to show if she has any inkling of like-liking someone, "Maybe Edyis." Is the only name she can come up with to that, and the statement is made more to herself than to the wingleader. She's quiet, then, listening with an ever-darkening expression as he explains. "Aye, the realities are awful." She's careful here, very suddenly and obviously careful in her words she chooses, "Understandable for some, but not absolutely necessary." It's with experience she speaks, though ungiving of details. "If it may bring one or two people some comfort, it brings many more nights they wish they'd not had by morning." However, it's when he moves on to what is now her present and future that she hesitates. Things she cannot rightly judge for or against without the years he's had to see them. "It's that emotionally painful to lose a flight? I think Neianth would care more about doing better the next time." The weyrlings hadn't yet had those classes, and Keysi's giving in this part of their conversation in not knowing better. "You say that as a definitive." There's vehemence that sneaks its way into her words, unleveling her voice, "When a clutch mate dies won't be an issue. Because it it won't happen." It may be more problematic that she says that part as a definitive, and in it takes it upon herself. "Edyis?" R'hin echoes near-soundlessly, with no small amount of amusement, though that fades as he studies her expression, following it throughout darkening and carefully selected words and hesitation, taking it all in with an even expression. "It is..." this time, he hesitates, to select the words carefully to convey the impact. "It is not just your loss, it's your dragon's loss, and it rings through you with unassailable need, a thirst that much be quenched, one way or another. If drink is not your choice, I'd suggest you arrange suitable bed mates. Greenriders would be the best, since they'd not also be chasing. But," with a twitch of lips, "I'm sure Quinlys will cover that in great detail, when the time comes." It's the latter that earns a smile, even if it's fleeting and sad at the same time. "We all die. Riders put themselves in greater danger than any." "Bed mates?" It's here where her Hold-bred and traveler-honed upbringing shines all too brightly, where the hint of surprise touches her well-controlled volume. "I-" Keysi stops herself, uncertain now which she thinks is the lesser of two evils. Both her hands hold the glass, not with intention to drink it but just something to redirect her immediate response to. This all shouldn't be news to her, really, though she's just done a really good job at distancing herself from it. "You just.. go find a greenrider and make eyes at them?" Seriousness aside, that's a fleeting attempt at exhasperated humor, dry as always. A beat as the note slides back into the morbid, "Yes, but we will do everything we can to protect them. It might not be enough." Would it ever be? There'd been such great loss at High Reaches even in the short term they'd been here, "But it will not be on our watch." There's some small sympathy for her reaction, perhaps, in the way in which R'hin gives her time to process it. The bartender approaches, clearly used to being ready to refill the bronzerider's drink, however the Savannah rider gives a brief shake of his head, his gaze returning to Keysi soon enough. Her comment makes him chuckle darkly, as he responds: "You joke, but for some, that is enough." A twitch of shoulders is given, before he nods solemnly at her latter words. "Good then," he says, forcefully, at her assurances, whether or not he believes them to be unrealistic: "To a never ending watch," he tips her, this time, with the empty glass, by no coincidence, given their earlier conversation. "I might take up drinking." For all her resolution on the topic, given the two options, she lets R'hin have the victory on this one. She lets the severity of her responses on losing more people fall away, the pleasantness of this exchange with the renown wingleader allowed to be more prominent than the subjects themselves. And Keysi doesn't miss his empty glass. She holds up her tea, only a fourth finished with some of it still dripping down the sides of the glass. More left in a ring of where it had been set. A toast in return. So new is she to this, does she really know the weight of it? "To a never ending watch." R'hin spreads his hands as if to say, 'it's your decision', only the tiniest flicker of satisfaction at the corner of his mouth. "You've time yet, anyway. I suggest you stock some good wine. Less of an impact the next time; I'll recommend some for you." With an easy pat to the weyrling's shoulder, he stands, walking across to join the table where a few of the Savannah riders still linger with a couple of Glacier ones, leaving the weyrling to her own devices. |
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