It's a late afternoon that finds the blue pair, Jo and Tacuseth, landing neatly on the sparsely populated lake shore. Once the nicked and scratched blue settles on the ground and his blue wings fold in, his black leathered rider is swinging one leg over him and dropping to the ground in dismount. By the looks of it, with her riding gear fully on, it seems as though she's just gotten back from sweeps and is taking a breather in between businesses. It's not often one catches a glimpse of her during the day if they were not a Glacier rider, but here she is. Once she's on ground, Jo takes a look around while stripping herself of her riding helmet and goggles, already turning to Tacuseth's side and lifting up the flap of the large carrying she has attached to him.
It's hard to miss a landing dragon. Even with soupy fog obscuring the close and entirely hiding the distant, the sound of beating wings and firm impact in the sands is impossible for Bones to miss. The brisk air would have been more bearable to a native of High Reaches, but for it's new gardener it's coat weather. His normal clothes are worn under a heavy cloak of ragtag animal furs, stitched together at odd patchwork angles. Like a puzzle made of dead things. It slows him down as he trudges through the sands on his his approach towards the blue, recognizing it's rider's silhouette before details can be made out. "Jo?" His own outline is just a huddled lump thanks to his apparel, but there's no mistaking that voice.
Jo drops the riding goggles right into the open carrying attachment, her dark hair fluttery about her face now that it's free from its confines within a helmet. Fog hides whatever else could be in that attachment, but before she could get rid of the riding helmet as well, that familiar voice of Bones gets her to drop her hand from the carrying flap and take a step back from her scarred dragon to get a better view of the man who called her. Fog or no, she turns toward him and takes a few steps in is direction with the riding helmet hanging from one hand by the straps. "Hey, Bones," she calls out, the chilliness that usually grace her tone for most being replaced with something warm and amiable upon recognition. "Shit, what's up with this fog, huh?" Then leaning forward to see better as he approaches, "And what's "that" yer wearin'?"
Finally closing enough distance for the fog to no longer be a factor in seeing each other, Bones' pearly white smile welcomes her to the lakeshore. At her question, he looks down at himself, every bit of his form surrounded by ugly scrap fur. "Y'mean my cloak?" He shakes it off his shoulders and catches it one hand, holding it up and out to the side for both of them to look at. Judging from how much buldge there is to his bicep, it must have considerable weight to it. "This thing's awesome. Could keep a damn blizzard out! Plus, doubles as a quilt on cold nights." The thing is thrown back on over his shoulders, at least this time leaving the front open over his usual sleeveless vest. "We can't all pull off skin-tight leather as good as you, y'know."
With Bones now close enough that the fog recedes between them, Jo does her usual sweep of her gaze over the man that could be taken as a leer. Eyes then shift towards the cloak in particular, brow coming together in bemusement at the thing as he explains it. "From yer huntin' days?" she hazards a guess, droll and yet humorous in its delivery. "Made that yerself, did'ja?" She could see the usefulness of it, despite the odd look she's giving it, but then Tacuseth's making a whuffling-sounding noise and she's turning back to him to lift open the flap to the attachment and setting the riding helmet within. Tacuseth is watching Bones closely, his head almost extended before the convict rider suddenly says aloud, "This is Bones, and that's a cloak." Clearly something else gets said between rider and dragon, for the woman suddenly snorts, closes the flap on the attachment to him, and gives him a slap to his side in companionable affection. Then, smirking at Bones' last with her turning back to face him, "I'm flattered ya noticed," is returned, the bluerider cheeky and cocky to the last word, as always.
"Hehe, nah. I only hunted fish. And trust me, nobody wants a fish cloak. I just uhh, acquired this one. Hehe." Details are left vague, but he knew she could appreciate vague. Smile does fade slightly at the sudden inspection from her blue, Bones still not having all that much experiance being face to face with the mammoth creatures. Still, the look on his face is less fear and more curiosity, raised eyebrow lingering only untill introductions are made by Tacuseth's rider. "Flattered eh? Hehe, just pointin' out yer good sense a'style."
"Acquired". Jo gives Bones a knowing look on that one, and it's a few moments later that she says, "Half my weyr's filled with things...acquired. I find it to be the best of stock, too." In the pause, she settles to a lean against the blue's bulk, thumbs hooking into the pockets of her pants as she puts in, "Haven't seen ya in a while," in observation, briefly running a hand through her unruly hair. "What ya been up to?" She nods notice the raised eyebrow, and she turns to take in the dragon she's leaning against before she straightens up and moves to stand beside Bones. Gesturing to the scarred dragon, "Oh yeah, uh, this is Tacuseth," she gives in introductions, clearly something she doesn't do all that often with people. "Ya can touch him if ya want. He won't bite or anything. Not like me." Uh-huh. The dragon settles on his back legs and seems to still, apparently giving Bones that chance to touch him if he so wishes to. She even adds, "He likes to be scratched behind the knobs and under his jaw. He can get greedy about it so I'll give fair warnin' if ya do." The fact that she offers anyone to touch her dragon probably says something on her level of trust with the man, though she doesn't give any comment on it. His last gets a teasing snort and a wry, "Uh-huh. So ya noticed "just" my good sense of style."
Tacuseth is given a more thorough once-over as the dragon is discussed in more detail, Bones reaching up to give a few scratches under it's chin.. It's only as he's giving the blue some of his attention that he decides to answer Jo's question, turning to her with a smile. "I got a job." There's a combination of both pride and embarassment in his tone, but both are subtle. "I work the greenhouse now. So don't go acquiring anything from there eh? I might take it personal." Assuming Tacuseth doesn't shove him away, his hands grow more bold along the dragon's jawline, scratching and stroking affectionately. "Cmon, we both know I wadn't just talkin' bout style. Hehe."
Since Bones is being all friendly with him with the scratches, Tacuseth is all good with letting him do so. Jo watches the two with a slight shake of her head before she steps pass him and returns to the attachment at Tacuseth's side. She catches that smile with interest, and when he tells her the news, "No way! Really?" It's a rare smile that flashes from a hardened face, meeting his gaze. "See, I "told" ya it would be a great place for ya! Now I've really gotta a reason to stop by." His comment on her acquiring anything from the greenhouse gets a flap of her hand and a, "Nah. I'm tryin' to be a good girl - at least within the Weyr. 'Sides, don't like takin' from people I actually like and fancy. Not unless they, ya know, want me to." Tacuseth settles on his haunches further the more Bones supplies those scratches, his wedge-shaped head tilting at the perfect angle for him to scratch as he gets comfortable. Too late, Bones is stuck now! To the last, there's that huff of familiar laughter from her. Yeah, indeed they both did know.
Perfectly intent on pleasing the big blue as he continues the conversation, he can't help but smile as his affections are so well received. Still, his eyes stay on Jo. "Good girl." The words are spoken soft, big man pondering what constituted goodness. "S'hard work. Changin' yourself. I wadn't always the sweetheart I am now, hehe!" Despite the laugh, there's an undertone of confession. "Course, if you like and fancy me, I guess I musta done somethin 'right, hm?" Tacuseth is given a final few pats along the side of his jaw, cloaked figure now finally moving in just a little closer to his rider. "Just don't go gettin' yourself locked up again, eh?"
While Tacuseth is engaged, wings folded back neatly against his back, Jo comments on her observations with a deadpan, "I think ya just made a friend of him." Gaze lingers on Bones then, his words on being good getting her quiet consideration. Smirk ebbs a bit before she asks, "And who were ya before, really?" Her curiosity is piqued. Even to his next, being the confession that it is, as the convict rider lifts a shoulder briefly before she answers quietly, "Like what I see of ya now, even though I suspect yer on a better path than I am." He moves closer and she straightens to her full height, facing him, his last getting a low chuckle from her in response. Regarding those words for a moment, "Ain't goin' back there, darlin'," she says with open certainty. "I've got people here...my own wing....tryin' to make an honest woman of me. Might be rubbin' off, little by little." He's obviously included in that group of people.
A heavy sigh leaves Bones at her question as to his past. It's not one of regret, and not one of wistfulness, but one of exhaustion. "I'm an old man, Jo. That'd be a long ass answer." His hands go to her hips, enough familiarity between them to give him the confidence to hold her in such a way. Still, the grip is soft enough to barely be felt. "But hey, bein' good don't mean y'got be boring, right?"
"Lucky "you", I've got the time if ya got the story, and ya can't be all that old," Jo counters with a raised brow. "And even if ya are, who gives a shit?" The familiarity of Bones' hands on her hips seems to be taken in stride, the black leathered woman not pushing him away. His last get that smirk of bravado right back, the woman shaking her head and reaching a hand up to curl a finger around a thick strand of his straggly hair and tugging lightly. "So yer sayin' I shouldn't cancel me divin' off that cliff over there stark naked?" she teases in her crass way, but it ebbs off to something more serious as she regards him for a moment before adding evenly, "Bein' good....I ain't there yet. Least I've got the balls to admit that much, huh?" The smile, it's self-deprecating, admitting that she certainly was flawed despite her great taste in style.
Bones' smile is for once tight lipped, his fangy grin disarmed in such close proximity. "Life stories are boring. I stole shit and hurt people." That was all the detail he deems necessary for the bluerider, taking the tugged bit of hair as a sign to lean in a little closer, shoulders hunching to loom over the girl. "I ain't your papa. Don't mean to be telling you how to live your life. But hey, good and bad? That's some real philosophy shit. S'up to you to decide what that stuff even means anyway. But goin' from beaten the tar outta folk to plantin' flowers?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Works for me."
"I see them as tellin'," Jo quips on life stories, her words swift. Of course, those few words can tell a lot, for those few words indeed seem to hit too close to home with the bluerider. Something flickers in her dark eyes, but it's quick to perhaps discern, the crooked smirk back just a little as Bones leans close from her little tug of his hair. After a moment's silence, "Sounds like a telling life story," she notes almost pointedly, brow lifting at him. But she doesn't push. His words on papas and philosophies gets a wry, "Good that yer aren'. I've already been a big disappointment to the one I've got." Head tilting slightly to look up at him on the rest, "I got ya," she says, quiet understanding. "Dunno what'll work for me just yet. For now..." she lifts on toes, closing the distance and briefly brushing her lips against his before that bad girl glint in her dark eyes is back as she states with a quirked smile, "I better get on movin' before nightfall. My day's far from over."
Bones is left with a warm smile after receiving the brief touch of her lips, though it doesn't linger for too long as she hints that their brief meeting needed to end. "Duty calls eh?" Big hands drop away from her hips and slip into his pockets, taking the necessary steps back to allow her to mount up again. "Stop by the greenhouse sometime eh?"
Hands briefly go to Bones' own on her hips, and then when he drops them and steps back, Jo does too towards her waiting dragon. She returns that smile with her usual one of sweet bravado, his question of duty getting a droll, "In all its many forms." Pause. "Promise to be by," she vows on seeing him again, inclining her head as Tacuseth gives his foreleg for her to mount up. "Maybe I'll acquire us some bubbly pies or something from the kitchens." She so would. Then she lifts a hand to him in a gesture that she was off, vaulting up to her blue's shoulders like a pro before Tacuseth immediately launches them into the air and skyward through the fog.
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