Logs:Who's The Biggest Asshole
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| RL Date: 16 July, 2016 |
| Who: Drex, Alysce, Odrick |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Actually, don't answer that because pretty sure it's Alysce in this scene. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 4, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: The weather today is very pleasant. A few clouds chase each other across the mostly clear skies, and a soft breeze picks up in the afternoon to make for a fine day. |
| Mentions: Quint/Mentions |
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| The weather's starting to turn warmer with spring, and so the crowd in the Snowasis is thinned somewhat, many choosing to take up places in on the patio ledge instead. It's probably how Drex has managed to secure an entire table, to himself. It's late enough that some people are starting to -- in ones or twos -- depart for bed, but the sailor looks set in, a half filled pitcher of ale still on his table, and a glass in hand. There's a game of darts going on between a couple of the wings, and some dicing in the corner, though he looks interested in neither, frowning to himself. It's a late hour for Alysce to only now be coming to Snowasis, but it's been a busy day. A trip to the Hold, errands, things to do and see. The lemon-yellow color of her skirts and the soft cream of her sweater do nothing to lighten her dark angles or make her look less frustrated as she slides into the bar, yet when her gaze sweeps the cavern and finds Drex-- She starts in that direction rather than away from it, practically throwing herself into a chair across from him as she greets him with, "You are right. Dragonriders are shit-eating idiots." Odrick is here and has been for an indefinite amount of time. He's sitting at the bar in a position where he can overlook the rest of the Snowasis, his notebook and a tumbler of whiskey at hand. His eyes settle on Alysce when she enters, following her on her path toward Drex, and he watches them, for now, from afar. Like a creeper. Drex notes neither stalker Alysce nor creeper Odrick, being that he's entirely unobservant and very likely sulking in his own issues, to judge by the ever-present scowl. When the apprentice harper dares to take a seat at his table, he turns the scowl on her instead. "Aint saving that for you," his chin indicates the chair she's taken, although he does -- after a moment of scowling silence -- acknowledge that she acknowledged he was right. "Fuck, yeah, of course I was right." Duh. Now he looks around somewhat, frowning briefly as he spots the older man by the bar, scowling in his general direction too. "The fuck they do to you?" he says, seemingly asking Alysce. "I didn't ask if you were," Alysce tosses back carelessly, only making herself more comfortable on the chair as she glances briefly to Drex's drink and then follows his gaze towards the bar and Odrick. She goes one step further in taking over his table, she lifts her voice to call to the other harper, "Hey, get me something to drink and come join us. I need one." She offers a smile in return, a flirtatious one despite the fact that he outranks her. She adds to Drex, all while her gaze lingers on Odrick to check to see if she's likely to get a drink, "Nothing; what'd they ever do to you?" The senior Harper doesn't entirely look away when Drex looks his, but he does make some vague attempt to not seem like he's staring at them. It's not until Alysce calls over at him that he acknowledges the fact that he's been called out at all, but he returns her request with the universal gesture for 'give me a moment' while he gets the bartender's attention. Meanwhile, he puts his notebook away gathers his own drink, and rises. He'll start making his way over once he has a bottle of wine and two glasses to bring with him. Drex's expression pretty clearly conveys the fuck? at Alysce's invitation to yet another harper. "Fish's little titties. You harpers," he says like it's some sort of curseword in and of itself. He broodingly takes another gulp from his glass, narrowing eyes at her. "Nothin'," he tosses back at her in a pretty clear so there, tone. Odrick's approach with a bottle and two glasses in hand earns a narrowing of eyes, radiating something unwelcome -- not that that seems to have put the apprentice off, at all. It doesn't; Alysce doesn't seem to even be acknowledging that this wasn't her table to begin with or that Drex might be upset. Instead, she brightens as Odrick actually comes over with a glass and wine. Her smile only curves firmer on her lips, and she practically purrs, "Oh my shell, did I ever tell you how amazing you are, Odrick? No? Well, you are." She even gestures to an empty seat in invitation with a soft pat of fingers. She finally acknowledges the sailor's displeasure with an added, "Don't mind Drex here. That face is permanent." Odrick hangs his bag over the back of a chair after he's set down the glasses, but he pours wine into each of them before putting down the bottle and taking a seat. "Hardly. You're giving me an excuse to have another drink before retiring for the evening." So that second glass is for him, not Drex. "Evening," he offers the young man with a sincere smile despite the other's face. "I'd say that I hope I'm not interrupting, but it seems we both are, and I'm afraid we have the numbers." "Only when uppity girls start acting like they own things they don't," Drex retorts, glowering and pulling the half full pitcher of beer closer to his end of the table, like the two harpers might suddenly decide to snatch it for themselves. It's Odrick's words that crease his face further, scowling and standing. "I was wrong about dragonriders being assholes; harpers are bigger ones." Even if he's planning to stalk off, he's not going without his beer, grabbing the pitcher and stomping away. "But sailors are the biggest assholes of them all," Alysce will call across the whole damn bar if she has to to throw that not-so-creative retort back towards Drex. When her gaze slides back to Odrick, it's with a hint of apology and a slight wrinkle of her nose. "Sorry about that. I mean, I guess it's better than the time he threatened to murder me, but--." She shrugs a shoulder lightly, reaching for the glass with a quick smile and a thoughtful study of Odrick with a sudden light of an idea behind dark eyes. "It's still early," it's not. "Are you at least planning to help me finish the bottle?" While Odrick doesn't seem to take the insult personally, he does watch the sailor rather intently as he gets up with his beer to leave. "Have a good evening, Drex," he calls after Alysce's retort. "Someone's going to think you like him, the way you antagonize the poor man," he tells the younger harper as though she didn't just say the sailor threatened to murder her. Except, "I'll make sure to suspect him if you ever turn up missing." As for the bottle, "I'm not going to let it go to waste, anyway." Drex is definitely not listening to Alysce's yell, having secured himself a spot near the bar. It's, unfortunately, nearer where a couple of the wings are in the midst of their darts game, but he seems to bear it for as long as it takes to down his ale -- which, all things told -- doesn't take that long, being of long practice. Soon after, he's weaving his way out towards the ledge, and presumably, to a certain goldrider's weyr. Alysce shakes her head in denial of that, answering, "No, I'm not some little kid who pulls someone's braid if I like them." She is obviously a mature, grown woman at twenty turns, sipping her wine with a curved smile as she drags a look consideringly over Odrick. "Thank you. At least someone will care, then, and maybe notice. Quint didn't even ask who, so--." But she leans forward towards the other harper's chair, her tone dropping suggestively as she adds in a murmur, "Well, you know, if you wanted to retire and also not waste it, we could always bring the bottle to your room?" "Perhaps Quint knows you wouldn't ever allow someone the chance." It's hard to tell if that's teasing or a compliment or what, really. Maybe Odrick isn't sure himself. "Forward," is a compliment. "The Weyr life must be agreeing with you. I have to admit there are certain aspects I like myself." Neither of which, granted, are an answer to her question. He takes a drink from his own glass, studying her with his own measure of consideration. "And what do you know, then?" Alysce challenges in return, an edge of teasing softening the words for all that she watches Odrick for the answer even as she takes a slow sip from her wine glass. Her brow quirks upwards, and it's unlikely that she misses that he didn't answer, but she doesn't press it further. "I don't pretend I know anything," answers Odrick, lifting one hand peaceably to relinquish any idea that he has a clue. "The only thing I'm going to assume is that Journeyman Quint wouldn't approve of me taking you to my room given the current conditions." It doesn't mean he wouldn't otherwise. "Do you know that boy very well? Drex, I mean," he says with a gesture in the last direction he'd gone. There's a darker flicker of annoyance in Alysce's gaze at that answer, and she takes her time before she asks him dryly, "And because Quint wouldn't approve, you're not going to? You're going to take his disapproval as some kind of law?" She doesn't answer his questions about Drex with anything more than a careless shrug, not even looking in Drex's direction. "I do have to work with him on occasion." Odrick seems curious more than anything, though. "Is that the reason you're interested? Because you know he'd disapprove, too?" No judgment from him while he takes another drink, trying to understand this woman as best he can before deciding which decisions would be bad to make. "I don't care about Quint's disapproval or his unwritten rules," is what Alysce answers easily, dismissive as she studies Odrick with a long look. "You have to work with me on occasion as well. Would that stop you?" Answering that question requires a little more thought on Odrick's part. It's evidently not a question he thought he'd have to answer. "No, I suppose that wouldn't stop me. And I suppose it's-- you and Quint don't... do you?" The thought strikes him mid sentence in such a way that he must not be able to help asking. "So working with Quint matters more than working with me," Alysce presses into that opening that he gives, disapproval obvious even in the sharp twist of her lips into a half-smile. "Is that really what you want to stand by?" His question gets a lifted brow, her gaze sweeping over him and then away, across the bar, before returning. "No, we don't. He's my Journeyman. But you are just a Journeyman, so--." Odrick takes another moment, a breath, and decides, "No. Working with him doesn't matter more than working with you. Or course not. But you're less likely to tell the Hall I didn't take you to my room than he is to make sure the right people hear that I did. But if it means that much to you, by all means, I can take you there." Alysce looks momentarily victorious that her logic has managed to make a point, but that expression fades quickly as she leans back into her chair, her smile disappearing into a flat line of lips. She shrugs her shoulder upwards, taking a sip of the wine, before she answers dismissively, "No. I'm not blackmailing you into sleeping with me. Whatever; you don't want to, you aren't the only one in this bar." "It's not--" Odrick pauses, considers, then decides instead, "There are plenty of men here who would be happy to take you to their rooms, I'm sure. You can even share the rest of the wine with them, if you like." The Journeyman starts to rise, taking his glass with him and reaching back for his bag. "I hope you find someone exciting and worthwhile, Alysce. Have a good night." "Sure, whatever. Thanks for the wine," Alysce replies dryly, her gaze already sweeping away from Odrick and across the bar as she flicks dark hair over her shoulder. She fully intends to nurse the glass that she has now, but whether she ever shares the rest of the bottle with someone else-- Well, she doesn't immediately get up to do so. Odrick lifts his glass to her, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he turns to make his way to the bar. His glass will be empty by the time he gets there, and then he's continuing on, back to his room where he's sure to not be thinking about the fact that he could be doing things other than going to bed. |
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