A little bronze fire lizard may have dropped into the Snowasis, landed on a certain bartender's shoulder and chirped in his ear until he would notice the note attached to his foreleg. He may take that note, let the flit free to wink Between and end up on the feeding grounds on his break on an early afternoon, catching Jo standing by the sidelines as her blue dragon feeds. She leans up against the fence, watching as the bronze fire lizard pops back in from Between to land on her shoulder and bury part of his body in the tangle of her hair.
High Reaches clearly suits Everett quite well, to judge from the spring in his step. He's even starting to dress like he actually cares what people think of what he looks like--but appearances are the point, now, aren't they? Very monochromatic, though. Shades of gray. And black. "Wish I had one of those." Firelizards, or dragons? Either might work. He comes up to the fence, pulls himself up to sit on the railing. "I'd rather be Weyrleader someday," no doubt for more than just illicit reasons, "but the blues are the striking ones, aren't they? The others are all sorts of variations on a theme, and then the blues stand out."
Watching as Tacuseth beheads a wherry with efficiency, "In time, ya will," Jo seems to be saying to owning either firelizard or dragon, only looking his way once he settles. She takes in that spring in his step. "Weyrleader," she echoes with a wry twist to her lips as she resumes watching her dragon feed. "'N what would'j do as a Weyrleader? Presumin' ya Impress the bronze our family's hopin' for." Pause. "Blues are my favorites," she agrees belatedly, nodding towards Tacuseth, "but I'm biased. Useful rank is hard to come by, too. Sometimes. I hope I didn' interrupt anythin' important," she notes, glancing his way. "Just thought we'd touch base. Got some stuff to tell ya."
Not even a vague flinch--if anything, Everett seems to take particular interest in that process. That shouldn't be worrying. At all. "Useful rank is the trouble, isn't it? Weyr or Hold, seems like they're all set on handing off power by dice roll, and not by merit. And then just... hanging around doing things the way things have always been done. But imagine how much you could get done with this much force, if it was applied productively." Almost wistful. "We could be bathing in Benden white." He glances back at Jo, then. "Nothing important. I don't like day shifts. It's dull. Everybody worth talking to's off busy."
"I don' care how I get rank," Jo admits with a purse of lips. "Whether it by merit or by what's between my legs matters nothin'." Grinning Everett's way, "If Lanvec wants me to start climbin' that ladder, I'll climb it. Same as ya. Still. I imagine, too, of a Weyrleader like us. To the Weyr, to the world, he'd be upstandin'n formidable. Not all would like him, but he would be good with convincin' those that didn'. 'N, our interests would be satisfied. No more hidin'." She shares in his wistfulness, her chin lifting to the breeze as she says, "Yeah. Bathin' in Benden white. That shit's beautiful. It could happen one day. We're all of us are still young." Everett gets her full attention now, her hands curling over the fence as she states, "Speakin' of leadership, shit's 'bout to go down. I need ya to watch the weyrwomen carefully for the next month. Any signs of their queens lookin' shinier than usual, ya come to me, Ev."
"That's just another kind of merit, isn't it?" Everett grins back, but then averts his attention back to the dragon, even as she's directing her attention more fully at him. Not like he's not listening, right? "Still rather it was sooner than later." All the patience of anybody at nineteen. "What does that actually mean, shinier? I mean, I know what you mean, that one of them's going to rise. But what am I supposed to be looking for? I never actually saw Aeaeth before she went up. And I don't know either Farideh or Irianke well enough to notice them acting odd, necessarily. Are there... I don't know, signs?" He seems to be surveying the feeding grounds for other dragons, just in case one of them might look suspiciously shiny.
"There are those here that would find the notion 'distasteful'," Jo tells Everett with disdain. "They're usually the ones that believe in tradition. As for shinier...." she pauses, perhaps trying to find a way to explain it further with a frown. "It's like...they glow," she tries to explain, looking his way. "I dunno. Somethin' looks off with them. Imagine Tacuseth there, but, his hide is glowin' like a glowbasket. Their riders act off-kilter, too. Ya might not suspect anythin' there," she agrees, "seein' as how ya don' know them well, but...Niahvth'n Roszadyth are on ground ledges. Ya can see them as easy as ya can see me. Keep an eye. If they even look remotely off to ya, send word. We have somethin' goin' down back at Greenfields that will depend on one of them dragon's risin' soon."
"So far in my life, if I'm keeping score, tradition has gotten me fuck-all, so anybody who's just had everything handed to them can go rot." Everett may slightly overestimate the role of his own talent in landing him here, but at least it's slightly more than accident of birth. He casts his eyes over towards where the ground ledges are, then back to Jo, nodding. "You know I'll let you know. What is it? Is there anything else I can do? Not that work doesn't usually keep me busy, but I've still had days off and not much to do with myself."
With Tacuseth crunching loudly on a bone, it's something that Everett expresses that draws a slow look of approval from Jo. "To my father, I remember rank bein' everythin' to him," she says, rubbing her hands together. "He drilled that shit into all of my brothers'n into me. Without it, he saw ya as less than. He's not the only one to believe that.I reckon ya'll run into many of those here." To all the rest, "There's been a threat lobbed at the family in Greenfields," she reveals, looking over the fields with narrowed eyes. "It's none other than one of the blooded sons next in line as heir. He wants to kick us outta Greenfields'n we can't let that happen." The more she talks on this matter, the more deadly serious her tone gets. "He needs to be removed," is her simple answer to all that, "but we also need a distraction for when one of the queens go up. We need to try'n remove the Weyrleader here." It likely sounds far too ambitious. Both problems.
Youth is probably reason enough that Everett can't quite match her seriousness. "You ever notice how the actual bastards all manage to know precisely who both their parents are?" Lack of serious mood doesn't mean he seems to be taking the subject flippantly, though. He bangs the toe of one boot thoughtfully against the fence. "If the dragons are the ones end up making the decisions, fool a thing as I'd say that is, how in the world do we do that? I've not exactly had any luck sweet-talking dragons so far."
"It's a feat," Jo answers on bastards without breaking stride in her telling of the happenings. "This man thinks he can oust us. I have some things in place right this moment to ensure he finds this idea to be a bad one. As for the dragons," and it's here that she sighs and takes a pause. It looks like this particular one's been on her mind for awhile now. "We can't predict nor control," she admits with a tick on the side of her mouth. "Still, if we can get the timin' close...that's better than nothin', right? Have one be a distraction for the other. Get the Weyrleader to Greenfields when one of the queens go up. Make sure he ain' able to go back to have his bronze chase anytime soon." She looks around to make sure no one's close enough to hear them, her voice staying perfectly low and level the whole time she speaks. "I predict Niahvth'll go up first," she wagers with Everett. "Dunno for sure, which is why we all need to be keepin' an eye on both queens. Pick apart any gossip in Snowasis ya hear that has anythin' to do with some dragon glowin'. Especially if the dragon's gold. Sounds good to ya?" she asks, bringing her gaze back to him.
A little two-fingered salute by way of acknowledgment. "Anything I hear, you hear. Glowing, goldriders acting funny, any of it. I've still not actually spoken to Irianke, more the pity. I got to speak to Farideh enough to make better introductions, but that was about it. Pretty. Assistant says she has a guy, I guess. Guess any of this getting to know people takes time." Everett will learn some patience this way, hopefully, or at least just keep working out his fidgeting with the toe of his boot. Poor fence.
Nodding, "I doubt Irianke goes far from her weyr," Jo states, not seeming surprised that the bar tender hasn't met her. "But Farideh. Make more of an effort. Use those looks of yers," and there's a pointed but amused look partnered right with it. "Havin' a guy means lil', in the scheme of things." She straightens up then with a nod and lets some of the tension fade, her voice not as low to signal the serious business stuff has passed since she adds, "Yer doin' alright so far, right? Have ya settled in well? Need anythin' from us?" She checks his well being while Tacuseth launches to fell another wherry.
"I got the shit kicked out of me for looking at somebody else's girl, once. Granted, it was a few years ago, but I still don't really want to repeat the experience. Just calls for some discretion, at the very least. Don't think I can just tell her she's got nice shoes and ask if she wants to have sex." Although there's a faint far-off look that in someone without a dragon suggests he might actually have to take a moment to ponder the possibility that this could work. "No, I'm doing great, really. Work's good, tips are great, making friends, the girls here are really something else."
"We both," Jo relates to getting shit kicked out of her just like Everett with a snort. "Discretion is right. Just don' cause any unnecessary trouble. Not that that sort of thing will have any blowback to us, mind," and she grins at him. "Some men are pretty territorial about their women around here. Take it from me." She looks him over still before nodding and pushing herself away from the fence, slapping her hands against her pants to get any dirt off of them. Stepping away, "I moved Dov back to Greenfields for a bit, just to let ya know," she drops that piece, indicating the barrel-chested man that's part of their crew. "Don' be surprised ya don' see him 'round. He was gettin' restless bein' in this place. If ya start gettin' restless, too, let me know. I won' move ya like him, but, we can maybe go somewhere if ya want. Hit a bar outside this place, sling some cards. Whatever."
"Think you have more reason to be confident about how well you can fuck someone up than I do. You're, I mean, you." And tautologies are tautological. Everett remains where he is while she moves away. No rush to get back to work, apparently. "Might take you up on that, one of these days. Miss playing, but rather not risk it, here. Tips might be good, but I'm spending it as fast as I get it. Could use a chance to fill up my purse again properly. Or improperly, as the case may be." Whatever he's managing to spend it on, it's definitely not clothes or haircuts. "One of these days, Jo. Benden white. Swimming in it. One of these days."
Jo seems to concede on the first point as she seems to be briefly considering it before, "I didn' start out this way, darlin'. These scars'n bruises came from somewhere." Beat. "When yer ready to go, just hit me up," she offers Everett now with a nod. "If ya spend yer marks, don' expect me to be the one buyin' all the rounds, though." As if that's incentive enough for him to slow down his spending before she starts to head off. She gives a backhanded wave to his last, the smirk evident if not seen as she calls out over her shoulder, "We better be." It looks like she seems to content in letting her Tacuseth do what he was doing without her.
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