Logs:Casual Distractions
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 30 July, 2016 |
| Who: Tamsin, V'ret |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tamsin and V'ret distract themselves. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Anvori/Mentions, Leova/Mentions |
  |
| The Garden Patio Ledge is attracting a lot of attention this evening, with the spring air not too nippy and the sky clear after a rather drizzley day. There's the usual assortment of riders and weyrfolk, some in knots of friends and some drinking alone. Tamsin is settled at a table near the entrance to the interior of Snowasis, her fingers wrapped around a glass of red wine. Fingerless gloves in a deep maroon compliment the browns of her sweater and trousers, though the latter can't be seen immediately given her seating position. Her dark gaze lingers on a small group of Snowdrift riders, amusement playing across her soft lips as she watches one bluerider animatedly relate some story or another to his fellows. She's eavesdropping, without a doubt, but she doesn't look like the sort to mind getting caught in the act - she's making no effort not to be noticed by those riders or anyone else, looking at ease, just enjoying the night and her glass of wine under the light of the glows. When V'ret wanders out onto the patio, it's with a beer in hand, and a blonde girl on his arm. So much familiar, except for it being the wrong girl, and the fact that he doesn't exactly seem charmed by her presence. They've come out for some air, but it quickly devolves into an accusation that he's not paying attention to what she's saying--which he isn't--and before long she's headed back in, in search of someone more appropriately attentive. And the bronzerider is left on the ledge with his drink, nursing it in a way that increasingly qualifies as brooding. He sits by himself, but as time passes he winds up watching a woman, while she's watching someone else, as though he's trying to pick out the stitching on her gloves from several tables away. Tamsin isn't so consumed by the story being told for not-really-her benefit that she's oblivious to other happenings on the ledge. Her eyes drift more than once. She catches first a glimpse of the blonde on the bronzerider's arm, another look later takes in the accusation, her lips twitching a little in a mixture of amusement and sympathy, and at some point later V'ret's eyes on her gloves. She flexes her fingers a little on the glass, perhaps for his benefit, to see how the stitches move or maybe just to see if it's really her gloves he's looking at. After a few moments more, she slides off the bench she occupied and meanders with her still half-full (or half-empty, depending) and slips into a seat nearby. "Lovely evening," she offers, lips curling into a smile that holds some unshared humor, her eyes resettling on the Snowdrift riders from this new vantage. When her hand moves like that, V'ret's gaze shifts away, though not in a particularly subtle kind of way. He can hardly be surprised when Tamsin joins him, but it doesn't provoke too much response when she sits down. A ghost of a smile where there was none before, maybe. "Lovely evening," he echoes, agreement. He glances past her to the bluerider, then back. "Pick up anything interesting, there?" More than a ghost, for just a second, but he has some difficulty with sustaining it. "There's always something interesting." The first remark holds humor mingling with a little air of mystery before the brownrider sets her glass down and folds her arms on the tabletop, leaning just a little toward V'ret in conspiratorial fashion. Perhaps oddly, she doesn't look at him, not even once as she confides, "Mostly I was watching the way he speaks. You can tell a lot about a person from how they carry themselves, what sorts of gestures they make, tone and volume. Or at least you can guess, which is really half the fun of judging a near-total stranger." Dark eyes flick to him and she quirks a half-smile in V'ret's direction before reclaiming her glass and bringing it to her lips. That comment does at least straighten V'ret's shoulders a little more, but not too much--some attempt made here not to look self-conscious. Even if he is self-conscious. "So, what would you guess about our near-total stranger, from what you've heard so far? What kind of fellow is he?" With the improvement in his posture, the smiles seem to come easier. Practiced. "Worth your time and attention?" Brows lift with the question. Tamsin has an easy laugh, one that brightens up her whole face and crinkles the edge of her dark-lashed eyes attractively, but without fine lines that indicate an excess of age. It's the last question that earns her laughter and she awards V'ret a broad appreciative smile, "Oh, if people only gave their time and attention to those who were worthy of it, life might be very dull indeed, especially since one can hardly know who's deserving by observation alone." Still, she looks back to the young man. He's tall, not classically handsome but attractive enough when the animation of his stories occupy his expression so thoroughly. "I would say that he has eyes for that greenrider," she gestures to a petite brunette lounging near the group, but not a part of it, "but that he hasn't worked up the courage to speak with her. I'd guess he's not usually so verbose and loud, but that he's hoping something might pique her interest. He's been at it a while, so by now she probably thinks he's adorable and she's playing it cool or she's dismissed him a blowhard. It's hard to say. Her body language is more subtle." So it's not just the young man that Tamsin's been observing. "What would you say? Does he have a shot with her?" Through all this, V'ret keeps glancing, with some obvious skepticism, off in the direction of the bluerider, his friends, this greenrider. When Tamsin asks his thoughts on the matter, he shakes his head, rolls his shoulders into a shrug and sits back with his glass in both hands. "She's a greenrider. If she hasn't got her eye on someone else at the moment, I'd give him good odds." There's an unpleasant sort of undertone, there, but only an undertone, and he might not even be wholly aware of it. If Tamsin has noticed the undertone, it doesn't show on her face; she's busy giving that greenrider a speculative glance. "I suppose that could be said of many riders. Dragons aren't exactly a recipe for marital bliss, though I suppose some people make it work." Her head tips back a moment toward the establishment proper, "Anvori and Leova are an example. I've never heard horrible scandal about them, but that's not to say it doesn't happen and no one ever hears about it. Bartenders are very good at keeping secrets." She flicks a glance toward V'ret; might her face be familiar from his time behind this bar? It's possible. She's no stranger to the place. "I can only assume that bar owners are all the better for their turns and turns of experience." "Never anything that I heard of," V'ret confirms, though he doesn't have any correction of his opinion of greenriders or whether Leova might be considered to be an exception--maybe his thoughts just aren't lingering there for long, as he studies Tamsin. "Anvori isn't a rider. Perhaps that has something to do with it. Some riders together do make it work, but I suspect they're the sorts for whom fidelity... isn't a particular priority." Nothing of secrets: his lips are sealed. "But that's putting the cart before the runner, seems to me. Whether they'll still be together when they're old is a very different question from whether she'll go home with him tonight." "True!" Tamsin tips her glass a little toward him with a smile to concede him the point. "I can't say I don't understand the appeal of playing games," she murmurs as she watches the greenrider play it so cool (or be so cool in truth, perhaps). "There's something to be said for the entertainment of it, for the distraction, although sometimes it's more fun to be a spectator than a participant." She sips from her glass, coming slowly to the end of what she has. "I suspect the personality of the dragon or dragons involved might have something to do with it too. Some seem more supportive of long-term relationships. It can be somewhat difficult to sustain something if one's lifemate is indifferent, or against it." Her tone is one of rumination, perhaps this is just another kind of distraction for the brownrider. "Does your dragon maintain an opinion on such things?" If she's going to ruminate on it, V'ret will indulge it. It lands them on conversationally safer ground, allows him to relax more into his chair, into working on his drink. "I have a difficult time imagining Zoth taking much of an interest." This is not strictly true. It's not even vaguely true. But it allows him to maintain this as a purely theoretical discussion, and not one related to his own personal life. "Hmm," is not so much a thoughtful noise as a drawn out sound while Tamsin finds the words she wants. "Tyth is not made to be a loner so he doesn't see why I ought to be on my own either, but he has standards for what sort of people I ought to be involved with. He can make things difficult if he takes a substantial dislike toward someone I'm fond of, but he tends to have good instincts so... we always work it out. "What is Zoth like?" holds real curiosity, but no press, no intention to pry. Good instincts. It's somewhere around there that V'ret's attention drifts off towards the bowl. Somewhere. The whole thing about it being evening is that the light is poor, but he does seem to be looking in a particular direction, not just off into the vague distance. "You're fortunate, I would think. If he can steer you well. Zoth is... unfortunately sometimes greedy with my attention. I'm afraid," and here V'ret is rising, draining the rest of his glass, "that I'd better be off. Nice to see you." Still casual enough about it. Tyth may be a good judge of character, but Tamsin may be shrewd in her own way. It's as he rises and offers that casual farewell that the brownrider reaches out one of her fingerless gloved hands to touch his forearm lightly, briefly, to draw his attention back, "I don't know what's bothering you," it's quiet and quick and probably has nothing to do with this moment, "but if you ever want company to find some distraction..." He has but to ask, evidently. The offer doesn't, though, sound like the same kind of distraction the blonde might have offered if only V'ret had bothered paying attention to her instead of brooding. Tamsin has a flash of a soft, genuine smile for the bronzerider but her eyes are quickly drifting back to the Snowdrift riders, apparently wholly unbothered, herself, by being left there to the distractions the Garden Patio Ledge has to offer. "If you're looking for a good time..." V'ret gives her a long look, almost critical, like he's tallying up her physical imperfections but also the charms, and then he puts the hand over hers. A brush of thumb on the wool; maybe he really was just looking at them, earlier? "You can do a lot better." Having settled on that, he pulls away from her, leaving his glass on the table to take the steps down into the bowl. |
Leave A Comment