Logs:Jumping To Conclusions
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| RL Date: 7 February, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's time for Z'ian and K'del to get drunk again! Bro-fist! |
| Where: Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Teris/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr The main, double doors that lead in to the tavern are, as a rule, left open, leading into the wide main room of the tavern. Directly across from the entrance, stretched across the long back wall, stands the focus of the room, indeed the entire building; the bar is made of a deep, red-brown wood and polished to a heady shine and behind it shelves stand with rows of clean glasses and tankards of all sizes and shapes. To the left of the bar is a staircase that allows access to a mundane upper story, a single hall lined with modest rooms for rent, and to the right is an arched doorway leading to a darker gaming room. But most of the action happens out in the middle, in among the haphazardly arranged tables and their allotted chairs. Though there are a few feminine touches draped around, a sage green curtain here or a coral red tablecloth there, when the tall room is filled with people there is no mistaking the testosterone-driven atmosphere of the place. This time, it was Cadejoth's, « Hey, want to get out of here and go somewhere warm? » that started off a chain of events that has led to this. After a lengthier-than-strictly-necessary conversation with the woman at the bar, K'del is now bringing a tray of drinks back to the table he and Z'ian have staked out. The heat and humidity have plastered curls to his face, but he seems oblivious to that - and to most things - if his bright smile is anything to go by. "Always forget about this place," he admits. "Sometimes wish we'd built something like it at home. Or like the old bar at Fort, before they refurbished it all. Seedy. Nice, sometimes." « We're getting that invitation a lot lately. » Tsanth will have fired back, his leading voice sounding distinctly wry and amused. Z'ian doesn't look like someone who spends a whole lot of time in the warmer environments, his hair is similarly plastered and the color has begun to come up in his cheeks. He's lost the usual jacket and is down to just the shirt-that's-underneath-the-other-shirt. "Yeah, me too. I think it's partly because I don't partake of it's other services." He glances past K'del to one scantly-clad women in particular, his gaze flickering back quickly. "It would be nice to have a place that's smokier. Sometimes the Snowasis is too classy." He places one elbow onto the table and leans across, hand wrapping around one of the glasses. "Right? Man, the day when I need to pay for companionship--" Is probably the idea Ista freezes over entirely, or so K'del's implication seems to be. He retrieves his own glass from the tray, taking a long slug of the frosty beer before setting it down upon the table, saying, "Reckon it'd be appropriate, having a second place. Maybe just outside the Weyr? Something like that. Maybe on day." When he gets his Weyr back? When someone gets in power who doesn't hate his guts? He's surprisingly relaxed, even with that reference to the state of things at home-- his shirt is unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, and his expression all but outright content. "Is the day that I get on my dragon and go between without a destination on the other side." Sex for pay is apparently a fate worse than death for Z'ian. Which maybe isn't entirely surprising. He lifts the glass to his mouth and takes a long swallow of the beer, breathing out slowly afterwards. "It's not like there's a lot of competition in the area. You could probably make good marks off the locals too. That's if you could get it started at all." There's a lot going on in the room around them, the place is full of activity. So a couple of relaxed minutes ease by before he finally comments, "Did you get a solid eight hours of sleep? You're in a damn good mood today. Better than I've seen you in awhile." K'del raises his glass, evidently intending to toast this idea: no prostitutes for these bronzeriders, not now, and not ever. Z'ian's comments on the bar possibility don't earn a verbal reply, but the younger man gets a thoughtful, considering look on his face, one that lingers throughout those relaxed minutes, and then promptly twitches into amusement. "Taikrin shot herself in the foot, taking Glacier for herself. If she'd given it to someone appropriate, people'd start seeing her as doing the right thing. Like H'kon did, with D'nis. It's a good start: nothing too damaging to the Weyr, just to Taikrin. Mostly, though... I just feel good. Positive. It's allowed, isn't it?" No prostitutes is definitely a toast worthy event. He lifts his glass as well before drinking from it again, rolling the bottom of it against the table. "Is it bad that I didn't feel surprised when I heard? I mean, really. It was bound to happen eventually from where I'm sitting." Z'ian allows a slow smile to pull on the corners of his mouth. "No, no. It's allowed. Encouraged even. It's just been awhile, at least it feels like it." He takes a breath and shakes his head. "I have to wonder what she was thinking when she did it. But I don't think I'd be able to figure it out." "Hubris," is K'del's very considered opinion of why Taikrin did what she did. "She thinks she can get away with it. Shells, I'm pretty sure she believes her own hype: thinks she deserves it." He shakes his head, dismissing the idea, but not allowing it to sour his good mood. Twisting the handle of his glass, he adds, "Heard a rumour that someone's been trying to get Teris to transfer back, to take over. Are people really that stupid, Z'ian? Not that I'm objecting to someone trying-- just makes our glorious leaders look even more out of control." "Maybe she thinks if she leads the wing well, the other wingleaders are going to respect her. Maybe it's not her thinking she deserves it but thinking she can prove it." Z'ian's thoughts are offered to K'del as much as they're something he's mulling over to himself outloud. Shrugging his shoulders, he flashes a smile and takes up his beer. "But what the fuck do I know? I'm not her." He drinks, listening to that next bit of news with a cocked eyebrow. "Teris? Fantastic idea. She was... such a wonderful woman. We were all really upset when she left to go to Telgar to help out with that situation." Now that didn't sound very genuine at all. "It's bound to get ugly terribly fast. Not to ruin your good mood, but." Hint, he's totally going to say something potentially ruinous. "As much as there are rumors about other people, there are ones about you. Leading the rebellious bronzeriders, etc... I'd hate to see you get banished to Fort or something." The scoffing noise K'del makes at Z'ian's suggestion of Taikrin's motives is pretty obvious; more obvious still is the one that follows that reference to Teris. Of course, none of that has anything on the abrupt stiffening that marks his reaction to that last remark. "Fuck," he swears under his breath. "Now that I hadn't heard. People really think I'd be that stupid? You can't transfer a Weyrwoman in without-- fuck." He has to stop, and take several deep breaths, and then aim, finally, for a wry smile. "They wouldn't send me to Fort. Fort wouldn't take me. Fuck, though. Fuck. Want to do some digging, see if you can find out who is behind this whole thing?" Z'ian has been really excelling at depressing and upsetting people the last few sevens, even K'del isn't safe. And appparently it would seem that he wasn't quite aiming for that reaction when he said those last few remarks. He blinks, confused for a second before he holds one hand out. "Wait- I just meant that you should be careful as our fearless leader. But." That he hadn't thought of this other angle before has him biting down on his lower lip. "Not stupid. Bold. Bold enough to go to Telgar? People could think that of you." He reaches across the table and grabs the pitcher to refill his near empty glass of beer. "Southern? Ista?" Those are wry, half-amused suggestions. "You'll be interested to know that you're staring at the brother of a Mastersmith that's been living in the Telgar region for the last twenty turns. Strong ties to the weyr he's got. I'll see if he can get me in the loop there. See who exactly has been dropping by." "Wait - what?" K'del's suddenly confused... and suddenly, putting two and two together (for a second time), and this time getting four instead of five. "Shit." He waves his hand around, as if trying to excuse the whole thing, but it's obvious that, despite obvious miscommunications, the whole concept is suddenly concerning him. "Bold. Hah. Maybe-- bet they'd send me to Ierne, if they could. Make me deal with Tiriana for the rest of my days." He drains his glass, rather as if he needs to get the taste of that thought out of his mouth, and gives Z'ian a considering glance. And a nod. "Turns out I am interested in that," he agrees. "Very interested. Reckon I'd be most interested in hearing anything he's got to report." So is Z'ian. He still looks a little confused there for a moment until K'del is waving his hand, the older of the bronzeriders just goes along with it. Because the subject matter itself is more disturbing than how they got there. "Is that old bastard still the Weyrleader there? Tiriana's father?" Curious and not quite remembering who is in charge down there. Who can keep track? And then, "If he is he'd probably gladly accept the transfer so that they could torture you together." Z'ian agrees before taking a long drink from the refreshed glass. "I'll talk to him the first chance I get to fly there. I imagine if he doesn't have access to the right channels, he'll at least know who to point us towards to find out." K'del can answer that promptly enough, with a sharp shake of his head. "Heart-attack, I think it was. Stepped down. Maybe I should have Cadejoth chase in their next senior flight, end up Weyrleader over Tiriana." His smirk is short-lived, however: the rest of this is serious business, and it has already made him look old and tired. "Even if they're not blaming me for this Telgar thing, yet, someone will decide to, probably. And even if not-- more information is good. Much as possible. So - good. Your brother. That'll be good. Wonder if I should be talking to other Weyrs, too, see if anything else is-- no. Reckon I'll stick to the Holds. Banishing would be bad." "Right. And the Holds all around Ierne, rejoiced. I forgot that." Z'ian comments with grim humor, digging up something of a smile. Even if it is crooked and wry for the topic of the aging bronzerider. He looks less amused for K'del's similarly-lined joke. Until, "Maybe you could just chase in every senior flight as they come up. Win them all! All our problems solved. One Weyrleader to rule them all." Briefly very entertained by his own suggestion, he turns the palms of both hands upwards and shrugs. Sometimes he can't help himself, really. Clearing his throat, "But more seriously. Agreed. And you should stick to the Holds, try not to get banished. I can try to visit some of the Weyrs? Starting with Telgar. No one knows who I am, just another pretty face. Sometimes anonymity is good." "One Weyrleader to rule them all... might as well just have one big Weyr, then. Satellite Weyrs around it." K'del's expression plays with being amused and intrigued by this idea, but he's not really serious about it - and anyway, seems to be having an increasingly difficult time getting his muscles to actually smile. He inhales, exhales, and then, finally, nods. "That's a plan, then. Visit the weyrs, see what you can find. My brother's a Harper-- maybe I'll ask him, see what he's heard, if anything. More information we have, the better. The more we know." "Exactly. If they want it changed so much we might as well just go for a full dictatorship. Yeah?" Z'ian is hardly being serious. He purses his lips and stares across at the other bronzerider before he leans over the table and fills his glass with more beer. "Perfect. What's family for if you can't use them to spy around for you and gain useful information?" Pushing the full drink over to K'del, "We've got a plan. Now please drink this. I feel guilty as hell for ruining your good mood with more of this crap. I'll try to be a more entertaining friend the next time we go somewhere." There's some lingering regret on his face for that, an expression he hides away by downing the rest of his own mug. "If we get too drunk we can sleep on the docks or something." K'del smirks, albeit half-heartedly, grabbing for his newly refilled drink with a nod of appreciation and thanks. "Don't feel guilty," he says, suddenly firm. His whole posture changes: he straightens, looking abruptly authoritative. "My mood'll return; it's all fine. Nothing is unfixable. And sometimes... it helps." Even so, he lifts his drink, and takes a good long swallow before adding, "You're entertaining anyway. Do you often sleep on the docks after a night out? Not that I'm disapproving of the idea. Do you think twenty-eight is too old to do that for the first time? Should I be making up for lost time?" Z'ian's elbow finds the table top again and his hand finds his face, propping his chin up. "I'll try not to. Boss." He cracks a crooked smile for K'del, amusement fluttering across his face when the other bronzerider assumes his authoritative posture. "What's great about this place is: when we're done drinking here, we can go to the other bar. You don't have to pay for any women you pick up there and the docks are right outside." He flashes him a broad smile, "Not often. Anymore. Twenty-eight isn't too old at all. I did most of my dock sleeping in my late twenties." The curve of his mouth is still there as he shrugs and takes a drink. "It was a dark period, what can I say?" "Did you? Phew. I feel better," K'del says in reply, allowing his shoulders to slump back to their earlier position. He's not as cheerful, now, as he was when they arrived... but he's doing ok. "Feels like I missed most of my early twenties, so it's probably about time I lived up to the late ones. Drinking and passing out it is, then!" His smile is crooked, even half-hidden by his glass as it presently is. "Thirty isn't as bad as they say it is, right? Not sure I could stand to feel older. Teach me, master. Pretty sure I have an awful lot to learn." "I think it's bad for women who don't want to be thirty." Z'ian begins, actually looking thoughtful. "I didn't really mind. Unfortunately all that crap you go through in your early twenties, you go through a brief period of that again. Other people think you're old when you're not. You don't feel old though. Also I decided that while eighteen turn old girls could be really hot, I needed to not sleep with them. Because it was getting awkward. Ten-turn rule from now on." And that's the summation of the knowledge he's gleaned during his four-year age gap on K'del. "All that crap aside, you'll figure it out. Enjoy the rest of your twenties and try not to worry so much when you don't have to. Which isn't frequently, I know. But." There's a roll of one shoulder and a quick half-grin before he downs the rest of his mug. It's refill time again and he lifts his drink, "To sleeping on the docks." K'del's nose wrinkles for some of those ideas - though his mouth quirks again briefly at the mention of eighteen-turn-old girls - but by the end, he's laughing. "Doesn't sound so very bad," he says, pleased and amused. He lifts his mug: "To sleeping on the docks. And with eighteen-turn-olds while I still can, even if they already feel horribly, horribly young. And... making the most of everything." "No, not so bad at all." Bringing his mug back in, "I think this decade is going to be better than the last one, honestly." Z'ian settles back into his chair and smirks at him. "I'll sleep on a different row of docks if you're going to be doing that with the eighteen-turn olds." The next round of drinks is on the older bronzerider. The rest of the memories of tonight will probably be hazy tomorrow, but they'll likely agree that they did hit both of Ista's bar and at least one of them was sleeping outside on the ground at some point. Even if they might not be able to agree on who it was exactly. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Jumping To Conclusions"Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Feb 2013 04:29:31 GMT.
I absolutely love that icon you used. Total bro-fist. XD
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Feb 2013 08:32:04 GMT.
Aw! K'del needs more happy-until-Z'ian-opens-his-fat-mouth scenes! And Z'ian's decade rule is a good one. xD
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