Logs:Adversity Skills

From NorCon MUSH
Adversity Skills
"When birds of a feather fly together, they never learn to stretch their wings wide enough."
RL Date: 24 September, 2015
Who: Jo, Irianke
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: Jo and Irianke briefly catch up since her promotion.
Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 23, Month 11, Turn 38 (Interval 10)
Mentions: K'del/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Mielline/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions


Icon jo civillized.jpg Icon irianke side smile.jpg


Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr

  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.


Snowasis is busy as usual this time of night. The usual wings are in their places - especially Glacier and Savannah by the dart board, playing their games and buying up rounds. Even though Jo's not part of Glacier wing anymore, she still claims her table close to them - only this time further towards the back of the bar. She has a pitcher of some ale on the table and a mug half-filled as she watches the proceeding dart game with an almost wistfulness as she nurses her drink. In the meantime, she has a deck of cards - and she idly shuffles them between her hands as she watches.

Irianke holds court at a table on the opposite end of the Snowasis with, the laughter from the table genuine and the affection between her and a Taiga brownrider overt. "You do that," can be heard, as clear as Irianke's dulcet voice can be, "But I," need to see a man about a runner, so the saying goes when departing for no good reason as the goldrider does. She does chunk the younger man's chin and moves through the crowds, stopping briefly at this table or that to say a hello, ask about his child or her uncle, eventually coming to Jo. The woman's eyes rest very briefly on the bluerider's shoulder, searching for something, and addressing her shoulder, rather than the woman herself with, "Wingsecond."

One can believe, surprisingly, the shoulderknot is there pinned on Jo's black leathers and it looks out of place. It's maybe the shift of movement that catches her eye, it landing on the senior Weyrwoman as she makes her way over towards her table. When she's there, that title, "Am I just the title now to ya?" she asks in greeting, her gaze now sweeping over to meet Irianke's before she adds in, "Weyrwoman." The card shuffling pauses. "Do ya wanna join me'n my pitcher of ale?" she nods towards the lone pitcher. "I can get 'nother mug for ya."

"A title. A pair of legs." Irianke's rejoinder is meant to be witty, and is uttered as sassily as it should be, complete with a tip of her head to one side that sends her sleek, pretty curls to one side. "What's in between matters too." That is a little more serious. "Why bother with mugs?" The goldrider must be in her cups tonight, there's that telltale flush and while she's always forward, there's a gleam in her eyes that is not quite meant for public consumption. A chair is turned around and she straddles it easily, tipping it forward so its back raps lightly against the table.

The deck of cards get carefully left to the side of the table as Jo counters with "Ya must be gettin' Niahvth to steal my lines." There's the curl of lips as she drinks, her sharp gaze -though muddied with drink by now - now focused on Irianke. She nods in invitation towards the pitcher to indicate that she was welcome to it without a mug, her gaze never wavering from her face. She misses little. Once Irianke's seated, "I trust that I have you to thank for this," and she lifts her free hand to press into the shoulderknot. "I don' think Mielline even knew I existed 'till now when she suddenly walked in on me like she was huntin' me down. She seemed....quite adamant that I had the skills she was lookin' for."

"You don't?" Irianke asks just before her face disappears behiind the circle of the pitcher, her pitcher chugging earning a hoot from a nearby Glacier rider. She exhales loudly, smacking her lips and puts the pitcher down, still mostly full.

Watching her chug from the pitcher with an impressive air and nod, "That depends, darlin'," Jo answers with an incline of her head. "There's skills useful for the Weyr, skills useful for beyond the Weyr'n skills useful in bed. "The first one's still a work in progress, but, she drives a hard bargain. I'm willin' to roll with her'n see what we can offer each other, though naturally, I'm skeptical." Draining her mug, "Gettin' my new wingmates to accept me as one of their own's the main challenge right now," she says with non-chalance. "Some in Snowdrift don' like the idea of havin' to salute one of Glacier's bad seeds."

"Fuck 'em." She can't mean literally? Irianke looks at Jo. "You'll figure it out in Snowdrift. You'll figure it out better in Snowdrift than you would in Glacier at any rate. When birds of a feather fly together, they never learn to stretch their wings wide enough. I," she looks back at the last table she called home and shakes her head, "I've had one shot too many over there. Get poetical."

"I'm used to adversity," Jo admits to Irianke's initial answer, openly agreeing with a dark smile. "Even had to get through my own wingmates shunnin' me for standin' with Aishani durin' the hatching feast all those turns ago. Snowdrift'll have to go far to beat that. Why there?" she asks now, eyes slightly narrowed. "Why not Savannah or Iceberg? If not Glacier itself. Poetic's fine, darlin'," she adds to that last, looking the Weyrwoman over. "Yer fine."

"Why not Taiga? Polaris? Boreal?" Irianke mimics Jo's ticking off of wings. "Why did you only name Savannah or Iceberg?"

"I think K'del wouldn' want me in his wing anymore than I would," Jo ticks off on Taiga with a snort. "Boreal would've worked, if Z'ian was still around'n I doubt Polaris either. 'Least with Savannah'n Iceberg, I know who runs it. I trust R'hin. H'vier'n I could learn to trust each other. I understand where he comes from." She reaches for the pitcher for a refill as she says, "Ya know me. Always curious over every choice, darlin'. Even when I follow suit."

"Always curious, my little one," says the shorter woman to the taller one, with a smile. "But in this, I cannot satisfy your curiosity as to why not, but as to why. Snowdrift works outside the Weyr more often than the other Weyrs. Once riders graduate from being new to being considered fully integrated, they make it their business to make ties with the people of our region, intimately. You don't think that's a skill you have?" Irianke sounds a little too sober, and possibly feels it too, for she's reaching for that pitcher again.

Jo quickly pours her refill and sets the pitcher back down as she says, "I'm quite big where I need to be," from Jo, crass to the end as she briefly raises her mug. "It's a skill I'm developin'," she answers to all of that once she's had her fill of her ale. "I don' exactly go around, shakin' hands. There still might be a few floatin' 'round, lookin' to smash my head with a mug if they see me. Yer confidence in me....Mielline's as well...it interests me." Leaning a bit forward, "I aim to not disappoint, in any case," she says with a meaningful look to Irianke. "I rather hate failin'. I trust things have stabilized, now that K'del's back?"

Irianke exhales after taking a swig from the pitcher. Her hand wipes its back against her mouth unladylike before she responds. "Things are stable. We've always worked well together." The goldrider considers Jo and then the pitcher she still holds, takes another drink, and back down again. "I suspect he was quite bored down at Southern with his family. Family man, indeed. He's fooling himself."

Jo watches her as much as Irianke does her. Taking in every nuance, the way her body balances in that seat, she lingers on her mug as she listens. "Family is better far away," she seems to agree on the last, lips curved. "I imagine one seven was enough. For some, rank means more than all of that." Taking a drink, "What matters to you?" she asks now, studying her. "Rank? Family? Sex?" A brow briefly lifts at that one. "Control? Trust? A combination of the above?"

"I don't know that we're close enough for those confessions yet, my Lee." Irianke teases, stepping fluidly back out of her chair and placing the pitcher down. There's an extra swagger, a swing of her hips, and a fond, slightly tipsy, look down at the bluerider. "If you can figure it out, I would be obliged to give you the world for figuring out something even I don't know. G'night, wingsecond, that knot looks good on you." Pause. "Wear it, and only that, the next time you come visit."

The first gets Jo's quiet laughter. She doesn't seem to protest it afterwards even though she notes back, "Are they confessions, Iri? I haven' even delved on to ask 'bout yer innermost thoughts'n secrets. Perhaps I'll give more thought, the more we talk." The Weyrwoman gets up and the bluerider reamins where she is, leaning back in her seat as she claims her mug with a nod and soft laughter for the last request. "'Least I've learned that a ranked knot turns ya on," she notes to it, seeming pleased by Irianke's bold statement. "Ya have yerself a good night, Weyrwoman. We're squared." To all deals satisfied, the woman bids her off with a drink.




Comments

Squishy (01:20, 24 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

This was interesting.

Alida (18:00, 24 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

Like Squish said... iiiinterstiiiing. >.> ^^

Tela (09:03, 26 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

I want to see Jo shakin' hands and kissin' babies now. Maybe with a sash?

"I would be obliged to give you the world for figuring out something even I don't know." That too!

Jo (12:39, 26 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

Jo would shake some hands, but she might stare at the babies like they're growing two heads from their bodies. Jo for President!!

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