Logs:Accidental interrogations
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| RL Date: 29 October, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Edyis, Quint |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edyis and Alida catch up, Quint gets accidentally ambushed. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: 17D 2M 39T I10, winter night |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions, Faryn/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Feel free to make any changes. |
>---< 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 >-----------------------------
Alida F 28 5'7" athletic, white-blond hair, clear green ey 8s
Edyis F 21 5'4" athletic, brown hair, brown eyes 0s
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Hallway Patio Ledge
>-----------------------------------------< 17D 2M 39T I10, winter night >---< Winter has settled in force in the Reaches, but that hasn't stopped the Weyr's occupants from seeking their usual vices. The Snowasis is in full swing, the rowdy laughter of an Icicle and Glacier poker game going on in the back while a few Taiga riders play darts against Snowdrift. Even the lower caverns staff are out in force filling most of the tables. Edyis herself is seated, at one of the empty tables watching her wingmates with a half gone pitcher of cider nearby. Her flight jacket hangs over the back of her chair, A Snowdrift patch affixed at last to the shoulder. Mostly she watches the other occupants as they come and go. Alida's not much into gambling, but on occasion, she does join Glacier for that past time, now that Savannah and darts are gone. Tonight is one of those evenings, and the blonde looks about as serious as can be as she examines her cards - the fan of them kept tight to her chest - considers the other riders about her...and then tosses a sixteenth mark into the kitty. Give them all another 45 seconds, and soon enough the pale-headed bluerider is laying down her cards, accompanied by various groans, sighs, and other sounds of defeat or resignation. Raking in what she's won of the pot, the ex-guard notes blandly to her tablemates, "Tol'ja' I didn' wanna' play." Shrug. An Icicle brownrider mutters his dour riposte to another player at his side, "*Your fault. You an' Br'an encouraged her." Give Alida another few moments, and she's depositing her winnings into a small pouch at her hip, and begging out of any further games with a laconic, "Hour's good enough fer the likes uv' me. Evening." If she's feeling sassy over her win, the woman doesn't show any hint of it, 'lida merely rising slowly from the table, nodding to her fellow poker players, then making her way over to the bar. If she saw Edyis enter earlier, no sign was given. But *now* there's a bob of head and a twist of lips that almost approximates a small smirk for the Snowdrift brownie. Edyis laughs when she meets that green gaze. There's a wave of sorts, that might be interpreted as an invitation. "Isn't exactly fair to clean them out, but I suppose the lack of the usual competition makes anybody seem like easy pickings." It's a bright touch of humor despite the seriousness that still lingers in her expression. Flicker peeks out from her perch coiled about the brownrider's neck and offers a sleepy chirp. As the two women meet up, Alida merely shrugs again, then notes in her usual tone, "They *insisted* I play. Heard one uv' the drunker girls hangin' on R'ees' shoulder mumble somethin' about them cleanin' *me* out." Smirk. "I have no pity." Not even a smidgen. Headshake. "How you doin'?" is inquired of the brownrider, those astute green eyes flicking over Edyis to take in not only her seriousness but anything else observable...including Flicker. The sleepy green's chirrup inspires a gentle hum of sound in return from Alida. "How does anybody do in this place?" Edyis replies with a laugh. Observably, she is more orderly in appearance than she has been in the last few months, the usual charms and bells woven into the ever-lengthening plait that rests over her shoulder, the very same thing that Flicker seems to be using as a pillow at the moment, a sleepy claw tapping one of the bells as she stretches. The hum is returned in tone as her eyes lid again, tail twitching on occasion. "We survive," she answers simply, her smile only faintly sad. "Checked in on Faryn, she's nursing her wounds on a stretch of Istan sand, deciding on her next move. Jo's been putting in extra hours now that she's the only wingsecond." There's a half shrug. "Life goes on, regardless of what we tiny humans desire." The last accompanied by a half smirk. "Yeah..." is Alida's only answer for that facetious inquiry, the blonde's own mien sober enough, though Flicker brought a hint of something 'softer' to green eyes for a moment. "Startin' ta really take after Igen, I see..." is noted not only of more hair upon Edyis' head, but of the appearance of those extras bedecking it. "Or did the Weyrwoman 'r Z'kiel set inta you?" As for survival, "'s'all I did fer Turns, at Pars." Grunt. "Better ta *live*." A lift of one arm upon the air sooner-or-later catches one of the servers' attention, and he's on his way towards them as Alida settles into a chair at a 90-degree angle from Ed, notes low, "Been lookin' in on 'er as often as we can." Beat. "As often as she'll tolerate it." Snert. There's some long moments of silence, and then the blonde is ordering a mug of some mellow beer from the server, watching him depart for a moment. So quietly that Ed might have to strain to hear it, "I miss 'im too." Edyis laughs at the Igen comment. "I never cut my hair before weyrlinghood, and I don't intend on ever doing it again, barring lice or thread." Still she smiles, "A trade with Z'kiel, my sisters got together and knitted him up a bunch of caps since he's stubbornly refusing to allow his hair to grow back." Edyis grins. Surely Alida's seen the hats. She nods at the mention of Pars, lifting her mug to her lips only to realize it needs refilling. Reaching then for the pitcher to refill it, she may not have heard the last, since it takes her a while to respond. Eventually, she nods almost imperceptibly. "He had a way of stitching himself into people's lives, never seemed to want to let others in on his, though. I am just glad he wasn't alone." There's an unspoken thought there that lingers. Oh yes; Alida has indeed seen those crazy ass hats, as shown by the slender smirk-smile on her mouth and the glint of merriment in green eyes when Edyis mentions such. "I learned from the family I know there..." the trading one in the Igen desert Ed visited with her, one time "...that cuttin' off hair means some kind uv' symbolic severing, 'r dishonor." After a few moments for thought, the bluie adds, "Probably about time Zak fully acknowledged 'is newer family." The Weyr. As her drink starts to close with her on the server's long legs, Alida only quietly listens to the din of the crowd around them, flicks her gaze between others and the brownrider at her table...and finally accepts her booze, pays for it quickly. Once the server's gone again, there's a long sip of the beer, then a soft, "Had the Weyr's best interests at heart...so that made 'im kinda *have ta'* have 'is fingers in many pots." R'hin and Savannah, both. That last admission has Alida looking deeply thoughtful again, her head nodding once as she silently cogitates over that entire, dark situation from her own unique frame of reference. Edyis tilts her head at that little bit of information, mulling it over as Alida goes on to the topic of family. "I'm not sure if acknowledgment is the word I'd use, but the girls took to him. Then again, my siblings and I can empathize with the position he found himself in. He's a good sort, has a great laugh too when you can coax it out of him." Edyis notes of Z'kiel with a half smirk. Of R'hin, her expression is less certain. "I keep in touch, but Savannah was disbanded when they returned to Monaco. Last I heard M'kris was still awaiting the new Weyrwoman's judgment." There's something fleeting in her expression that doesn't linger long. "I offered to set Faryn up assisting Terren." Is tacked on as an afterthought, "Don't know that she'll be able to put up with him long term, but - I was trying to think of things she might be suited to, Figure I'll talk to Jo and see if she knows of anything where Faryn can pick up a skill set to leverage for her future." "Not much like the typical bronzer..." Alida allows of Z'kiel, the bluerider finding herself twitching a half-smile at the thought of zak actually belly-laughing. "I think one of yer sisters' might have a thing for 'im...if ya couldn't already see it." Smirk, sip. The blonde's expression evens out again at word of Savannah, but when M'kris comes up, there's a dark flash of green eyes, and a hardened press of lips. Quietly muttered, "That...*stain* needs ta be..." No, Alida. Don't say anything out loud. "Ya know..." is mouthed off quietly to Edyis, the bluerider's lips not moving much in the preocess, "I wouldn't really give half a shit if that pathetic excuse fer a human being *didn't* actually kill R'hin. He's a bad egg; needs ta be retired." In conjunction with that last word, a wicked little spark flares in greens, dies away. Of the former Savannah, Alida can only sigh, shake her head, note darkly, "New Weyrwoman's cleanin' house. Can't have any open reminders uv' their old 'r new major fuck ups...though why she's takin' so shardin' long ta judge that shit stain's beyond me." From politics to business, now? It makes Alida's head spin for a moment, the look she turns on Ed off-balance for a moment, then altering to an expression of reticent caution. Finally, "I don't get down there too much, now. Still...gotta bow ta the fact Teren'll likely mention Trader Lidia to 'er, sooner 'r later." Mutter, scowl. She's not in full control of that venture, anymore. As for Jo and the 'issue' of Faryn, "I'm pretty sure Jo'd not put 'er in any situation Faryn couldn' handle. She's probably got a few less shady contacts, too." They can all hope, anyway. "Part of the appeal I'm sure." Edyis grins of Zak before Alida's other observation has her palm over her face and dragging her hand down over it slowly. "Don't remind me. Gerta, fuck if I know what to do with her. Greta usually keeps her toned down, but she's gone positively boy crazy and I have no idea where she got it from. Why do you think they haven't met N'rek yet?" Somewhere between genuine and mock horror. And there's a hateful look that surfaces as talk of M'kris surfaces, but it's tempered by something, self-censure perhaps. "I said that to R'hin once, do you know what he told me?" A beat, "We do not compound fucked up with more fucked up." Lifting her mug she tosses the liquid back, the glass settling hard against the table before she's reaching for the pitcher again. As the liquid sloshes, she sighs. "I don't have an answer anymore, personally I am afraid if they don't do something drastic he'll just resurface as a bigger problem, but it's in Monaco's hands." For the issue of the trader 'Lida there is a shrug. "I will let you handle that particular one. You need the practice socializing anyway." Edyis grins affectionately. "She needs a purpose." Definitive the last. "Even if she spends a few turns kicking about to find it, she needs a place to start." The or else seems implied. Z'kiel's 'appeal' remains unspoken of by the bluerider, though Alida does smirk dryly at word of Edyis' boy-happy sister...snorting softly when the brownie admits to not exposing the Telgari to Gerta. To be sure, the alert 'ex'- guard notices the hate radiating off of Edyis in conjunction with word of M'kris, but the blonde merely tips the faintest of nods to it when Ed covers it up...much like Alida did to herself. Best to keep things like that to one's self. Plausible deniability. Sip. As for R'hin's 'words of wisdom' for his former protege...well, there's a wrinkle of nose mixed with another, sharper snort, this time. "One person's 'fucked-up' is another's 'flyin' fine.'" Puff. "Ol' man was good at double-talk, hidden meanings." Blink. "Oh, thank *youuu*..." is noted with some asperity to Edyis' words of handling Faryn when down south on business. Eyeroll. She seems about ready to say something else, but the bluerider quickly remembers how she handed this arm of their business back to the brownrider...and instead falls into slightly grumpy silence. Asshole. The subject of Faryn's 'searching for meaning' earns a grunted, "Sometimes we gotta make our *own* meaning." A cheerful whistling precedes Quint's arrival in the Snowasis, coming from the bowl. His hair is in disarray thanks to the howling winds outside, and he takes a moment, in the entrance, to run a hand through it, back into some semblance of order, shaking his coat before pulling his clothing straight and neat in a manner that has the deliberateness of a ritual. He circles, now: past the game of poker, lingering for a moment, stopping nearer the bar to observe the game of darts, before pushing past Edyis and Alida's table, inadvertently knocking the chair of the latter. "Oh, dear. Apologies," is out, even before he has cause to recognize the Snowdrift rider, on the table, though it's to the Glacier rider that his gaze, and apology seems to rest with. "The weather has me rather out of sorts." If he's aware of the mood of the conversation he's walked into, it doesn't show on easy, amiable expression. Of the old man, she shrugs. "One way of looking at it." With the air of washing her hands of the subject, easier instead. "Oh, come on, you know it's true. It's a bridge that can be crossed when we get there, don't even know - " The whistling interloper is studied with an arched brow at the apology, though whether it's the comment, or his hair that causes the brownrider's lips to twitch involuntarily at the edges. "Quintus." Serves as an amused greeting even as she watches with glittering dark eyes to see what happens next. Alida looks just as stubborn as ever when Edyis tries to 'win' her over, and the blonde is settling her back into the chair and slightly squaring her shoulders for a response when some oaf blunders into her seat. Not even a guard can be perfectly alert at all times, so when Quintus conks her chair, *she's* already levering her ass partially out of her seat - fingers twitching and body readied - before her brain fully realizes this happenstance was merely a mistake of the moment. Instead of cursing the man or glaring daggers at him, however, the bluerider presents a less outraged affect this time, Alida instead going for the 'stare' option with lips thinned. The Snowasis *is* a hopping joint, after all...but *she* is still touchy of her personal space. A flick of green eyes to Edyis comes when the brownrider admits to knowing at least the name of he who interrupted, and - for now, anyway - 'lida settles back down again...and observes. "What?" is Quintus' initially perplexed reaction to Edyis' amusement. "Something wrong with my hair?" He runs his hand through it again, though it doesn't help with settling it down overly much. "Edyis," is amended, with a tip of head -- perhaps no great surprise that the harper remembers her name, even after one meeting. Alida's lack of verbal response is as much a surprise to Quint as anything -- given he doesn't know her well enough to know it's out of character even for her. "Still getting the lay of the land," is amended to his unresponded-to-apology. "Haven't had much cause to venture in here to date, but I'm told this is the most sociable of places... mm." A beat. "You have me at a disadvantage." Perhaps that's why he's looking at Edyis -- for an introduction? Something else? Edyis just smiles blithely at the Harpers confusion. "The style does have a touch of rakish charm I suppose." Windblown is probably the better word, but that smile doesn't fade. She watches Alida's response which may or may not be the source of her growing amusement. "I prefer to keep my advantages where Harpers are concerned, but This is Alida of blue Ilicaeth, Glacier wing. Alida, Journeyman Quintus, of Harper Hall." She studies the man a moment and after a beat, "You are naturally welcome to join us if you'd like, you look like you could use a spot of something warm after being out in that." Sipping her beer - of which there's only about a third of a mug, now - Alida re-settles into her 'neutral' game face with the upcoming addition of Quintus, the bluie finally nodding once to the Harper, then pausing for a few moments before she notes bluntly, "Yer the one who grilled Jo, Keysi." Over R'hin's death. If Edyis expected a reaction more positive than this, she's going to be let down. There's a flicker of lids, Quintus' expression remaining serious all the same. "I'll have whatever the bluerider's having there," he says, waving to Alida's beer. He's still standing, and despite the offer of a drink, doesn't seem apt to invite himself to a chair, yet. The rapid-fire questions from the bluerider appears to earn some amusement, though it's kept at bay other than a slight curve of lips. "Teaching, actually. Law was a little too... cut and dried for me. I find the world is rarely that black and white, and passing judgement on others' actions a hard task for anyone to master." Edyis mms, and excuses herself to refill her pitcher and fetch one of the beer Alida's drinking as well as an extra glass. When she returns, and reclaims her seat, it is with a mild tone and a smile that she asks; "Why would a teacher get stuck interviewing witnesses? I'm afraid I only studied scribe work and illustration in any detail." Setting the glass in front of the chair that puts the most distance between him and the bluerider and filling it with a practiced hand. Amused, eh? Alida simply continues to observe Quintus' reactions, listen to his words, weigh him, after a fashion, while the brownrider nips off to get more alcoholic goodness. To the man's reply is murmured, "Must've chosen you fer a good reason, then." Since teaching Harpers aren't 'law' Harpers...the comment noted some seconds before Edyis' own inquiry. The last dregs of her beer are downed, the mug's handle slowly spun towards the table's center, green eyes level upon blues. "Precious little's black an' white," is agreed. Quint's gaze tracks Edyis' progress, pretending to be oblivious to Alida's study of him as he does so. His brows draw upwards at Alida's words, and, after a beat, opens his mouth to answer -- just as the brownrider returns and asks near the same thing. It makes him grin, briefly, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "I see you two think alike. That, or -- I'm being set up?" his brows rise inquisitively -- it's clear he doesn't seem to think that's the case -- and he waits until Edyis settles down before he answers with an easy tone, "Simply in the right place at the right time. It doesn't require an expertise in law to draw forth a story -- that's something all Harpers can do to a greater or lesser degree -- and I made no ruling." A wordless nod of thanks given to Edyis as he reaches for the glass she's provisioned, lifting it. "Indeed," is answered to Alida's latter words, gaze flickering between the pair, as he toasts, "To the grays of the world," before imbibing. Edyis blinks, tilting her head and then she glances at Alida with a questioning arch of her brow. "I don't think you are being set up if that helps?" She offers with a dismissive laugh, "Curious minds think alike I guess." She refills her own glass, sinking into the seat with a relaxed air and an apologetic smile. "I suppose it isn't that far-fetched then, you did mention that you prefer to learn about history from the people involved rather than hidebound volumes." She joins in the toast studying the harper thoughtfully, "In truth I admit I've been hoping to run into you again, I'm afraid where the topic of history is concerned, I'm quite a bit rusty." There's a hint of dark humor in Alida's gaze for a second when Edyis returns, inquires in like vein, but she's much more sober and serious in order to intently observe, listen to Quintus' response. After a dry hint of a half-smirk fired off to Ed's brow arch, the bluie lips off in casual reply to the Harper, "Nah. If we were settin' you up, you'd likely not catch on...in true High Reaches fashion." Smirk. Ahh...some of the apparent truth comes out, now, and Edyis' additions aid the guard in putting together a mental brief of the man before them, the other woman getting a faint nod of agreement. "Simply a full Harper's presence, for the record, then." It's not many seconds after her 'statement' that Alida's eyes shift to the empty mug before her, and she seems to stare distractedly within it, then lift again to show some inner displeasure, Quint's toast offered only a grunt. "Much as I'd rather sit here an' trade stories, I'm bein' called ta duty." Though she tries for darkly casual, Alida still sounds a little grumpy. A quiet look - level and calm - is offered to Edyis for a long moment, those sometimes merciless greens then flicked over to Quintus. "Interesting meetin' ya, Quintus. Another time." And the brownrider? She gets a much more easy, "Later." And now, Quint lowers the beer, staring at it musingly, raising it briefly again to peer at the bottom. "Ah! I see there's a string attached to this glass, all unseen," before a quick grin surfaces, aimed at Edyis. "Well, I hold regular classes in the harper's teaching room. You're welcome to sit in -- though be prepared to be out-knowledged by ten turn olds. Many of them learn stories at their parents' knees, and High Reaches' own history is particularly complex." He's not unaware of the look that passes between Alida and Edyis, observing without judgement but with obvious interest all the same. "And you, bluerider," is his easy farewell, given with a nod towards Alida, that might linger in a look as she departs. Ilicaeth is likewise disappointed that Alida's grilling of the Harper has been brought to a close by sudden Wing 'business,' but he's still undistracted enough to reach out to Akluseth and rasp a dry baritone, « Be good ta know more. Tell Ed ta be careful how she pushes. » For more information. Harpers are wiley beasts, in general. (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) Edyis watches Alida, listening, and the bluerider gets an affectionate grin of farewell. It's only when she's out of sight and earshot that her attention returns to Quintus with a laugh. "No, more an apology of sorts. I hope you will forgive my friend her curiosity. She's fiercely loyal, and never quite stopped being a guard. It's one of the many things I admire about her, even if it does make for awkward conversations now and then." There's a wry smile for being out knowledge, "So long as you don't call on me to answer questions I suppose it's in good order. I'm not sure anyone could completely and honestly grasp the history of this place, but what actually keyed my interest was the Hold, Hall, and Weyr relationship and where those rifts first developed." She grins, "Of course if you'd prefer we can just sit and you can enjoy a few free beers since my friend won't be able to partake of that pitcher." A watery rumble, deep and echoing, a yawn perhaps. « I can never tell if she's flirting or interrogating, but whatever the difference is I pass the message along. » (To Ilicaeth from Akluseth) Fantastic, dude! Ilicaeth lingers for a few more moments, as if he might skim more of the conversation the human are having through association with the brown...and then he finally withdraws. Duty calls. (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) Akluseth's watery brain isn't all that linked to his rider's at the moment, judging by the happy flickery images of pretty greens. He might have fallen back asleep. (To Ilicaeth from Akluseth) The brownrider, too, earns a thoughtful, considering look from Quint, the harper not missing the tone of Edyis' expression. "A guard, mm? I'd guessed something like that. The last time I received such a grilling was from a Captain at Benden Hold--," he goes silent, lips pursed, taking another gulp from his glass. If he's unsettled by standing while Edyis sits, it certainly isn't visible in his demeanor. With a slow shake of his head, he says, "Where they first developed? I doubt anyone knows that but the players themselves. The relationship between Hold, Hall and Weyr is intermingled and dynastic. Holds are inherited by sons -- or daughters -- that remember how their parents were treated, or how their parents treated others in turn. The past shapes the future, and not all of it is contained in the written word for us to fully comprehend the nature of it." There's something of a teacherly voice in the way he speaks, as if she were sitting in his class right now, instead of in a noisy, busy bar. His gaze shifts to the pitcher, and his near empty glass. Draining it, he allows himself a grin, and: "Perhaps just one more. Might I sit?" he gestures towards the chair that was recently Alida's. Edyis possibly hasn't registered that he's still standing, being more engrossed in what the man has to say. "I feel like there is a story there." She laughs of Benden Hold. But, when he draws attention to it there is a faint flush. "Oh, please do. Forgive me my manners aren't quite as they should be. Please, help yourself." Gesturing to the pitcher with a smile. "So the rift is impossible to repair?" She wonders then, when he finally seats himself, refilling her own glass. "Perhaps," Quintus allows, with a deliberately put on mysterious smile. "But if I told you, I'd lose all credibility as a teacher, and we oughtn't todo such so early in our acquaintance." When offered, he slides into the seat, reaching for the pitcher, stretching to top up her glass before he refills his own, though only three-quarters of the way. "Nothing is ever that simple," the harper allows, with a brief smile of understanding. "Changes -- leadership, politics -- make for new opportunities. But sometimes capitalizing on them comes at a cost that some may choose not to pay for the greater good. After all, a Weyr must look after their own, as must a Hold and Hall. That very precept makes the relationship between the three forever a struggle at equilibrium." "Why not? I seem to have already lost my credibility, but if you insist." Edyis laughs though it dissipates in favor of intent listening. "So in your opinion there is no cure for the currently deteriorating situations in Crom, Tillek or the Beastcraft for that matter? At least in the context of the current leadership?" Leaning forward in her chair slightly. With a spread of hands, Quint amends: "Call it a point of pride then, on my behalf. We harpers do try to keep pride from clouding our judgment, but we are, after all, only human," a sentiment that apparently is best spoken by washing it down with some cold beer. "I didn't say that," he corrects her, "Only that there is never any one solution that might fix everything. Think of it like a tangled skein of yarn -- pull one thread to something straight, and you risk tangling two, three, four other threads. Favor Crom, and the other Holds will be ill-pleased. Give some precedence to the Beastcraft, and the other crafts will take note, and perhaps attempt the same themselves." He tilts his head, "You see?" « HEY! » Faranth, what an asshole. Maaaan. Wake the hell up and report to your rider, slacker! Ilicaeth is all 'cop' right now, and can't help but being irritated at the brown's lackadaisical approach. (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) Edyis smiles, "For the sake of your pride." And there's a faint lift of her brows as he corrects, and there's a small smile. "Your point intrigues me because already the weyr is making concessions to some crafts, there is a new wing reportedly devoted to the purpose." She frowns then, and there's a soft exhale, "Something that clearly requires more study and a clearer head than mine, I think." She glances from him to the pitcher, and muses, "Would you be horribly put out if I left you to the business of finishing this off? It would seem my lifemate requires attention, and I can't bring myself to let it go to waste." Huh? The slow crawl of the tides and sluggish motions of great shadowy shapes cues some sense of alertness in the brown. « What's with the yelling. Is the Weyr on fire? » Because clearly that's the only reason anyone would be waking him up from a nap. (To Ilicaeth from Akluseth) The harper gives a brief nod at her speculations. "Change provokes consequences. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. But as the saying goes, you can't please all of the people all of the time." Quint doesn't at all look put out at being abandoned to tackle the remainder of the beer himself, with an understanding smile that suggests he's at home with the oft-used reason for the departure of a rider. "I think I can manage," he allows with a smile. "Good eve." "No, you certainly can't," She answers of pleasing people as she pushes to her feet. "I suppose it doesn't do much good, in the long run, to push for it if you aren't certain that things will be the better for it." It seems as though she's been given a lot to think on, though. "On a personal note, and off the record I'm curious about something." She lingers, "Did you, personally believe the reports you took?" She lifts a hand, "Please don't feel obligated to answer, it was just a fleeting thought." Fucking slacker. Worse than useless. Ilicaeth will have to remember this in case of true emergency. The brown's feeble attempt is shoved aside, the huffy blue bypassing Akluseth entirely, except for his tart rejoinder, « If you can't be assed ta pass on potentially important information ta Edyis, then *I* can't be assed ta bother, anymore. » (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) The casual demeanor slips away from Quint's expression at her words, and it is the Harper, not the man, who regards her evenly. He doesn't pretend not to know what she asks about. "It is my job not to infect a report with my own beliefs and thoughts, to not prejudice any outcome or provide any bias to any who may read it." It's a Harper line, well-practiced and given with a strength of belief, while blue eyes fix on the brownrider. Edyis shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It was impolite and put you in an awkward position." She smiles softly, "Thank you for letting me pick your brain, enjoy the rest of your evening." And with that, she's off. Currents shift and grow faster, « Whaat the fuck are you on about man. I passed on your message. » Waters grow agitated. (To Ilicaeth from Akluseth) The wave of the harper's hand might well indicate forgiveness, though no verbal response follows. Instead, Quint settles back in his seat to drink his beer and observe the dart's game from a distance. Blink. He *did*? Well, « Shit, son. You made it sound like ya *didn't*. » Instantly, Ilicaeth's disgust and ire evaporate into slightly abashed, brisk humor. « Chill, man. All's good, then. » Pardons. Heh. (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) To Ilicaeth, Akluseth projects « Blues » Blues indeed. « We're ta be envied. » Chuff. (To Akluseth from Ilicaeth) |
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