Logs:Measured Risks
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| RL Date: 30 July, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, X'vin |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo's curiosity leads her to seek X'vin, and they measure one another over drinks. |
| Where: Dice, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 5, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions |
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High up above the lake, a small ledge is barely noticeable, and indeed
most pass by it unawares. It's small enough that a green can comfortably
land, perhaps even a blue, but larger dragons would find it too awkward
and small to do so. Just inside, a pair of men are usually standing with
arms crossed and sharp eyes watching the comings and goings.
The small size of the various rooms that make up the weyr proper has
probably made it unappealing for any to claim as their own - however this
makes it perfect for its new purpose. In each room there's a table and
chairs set up in different configurations - card games here and there,
dice in another room, roulette in yet another. The dealers are dressed in
plain gray outfits, though the security guards that wanders from room to
room (and occasionally come to collect marks) are more casually dressed.
The decor and lighting are dark, intended to make identification of other
patrons more difficult. With plenty of changes in Flint, one thing has withstood any test X'vin has thrown at it: gambling night, wherein most of the wing make an exodus to Dice for a night of unwinding. That it's more than once a week might be cause for concern for some, but for X'vin, who settles in at a table with the announcement that he is 'strictly supervisory', and proceeds to make eyes and smiles at the girls who wander around with drinks trays. In general, he is still apart from his wing, though his presence no longer seems cause for concern with them. They've taken him as a noninterfering given, and even manage to deal him in once or twice when they start running low on marks. It's just after one of those hands now, as X'vin says, "You could just ask if I'll pay for the next round, you animals," with the result of victorious crowing laughter. It's a rare site to find Jo in Fort. The convict rider seems to keep most of her dealings close to the Reaches, so, if one finds her this far from the Reaches mountains, it's likely for a reason. The black leather cladded bluerider steps pass patrons leaving the Dice to enter, her gaze taking in those at the tables with a look of someone on the hunt. It's an odd thing that she's actually wearing her shoulderknot depicting her as a Reachian dragonrider, for once, but otherwise she doesn't seem to notice whether she is sticking out like a sore thumb or not in this den of Fortians. It's to the tables that she wanders, the look of arrogant authority warring with nonchalance on her face to any that dare accost her. She wears the shroud of intimidation as well along with a neutrality to suggest that while this wild feline has claws, they won't be put on display unless provoked. Otherwise, she's slowly making her way towards X'vin's table as she takes in the various games around her. Jo's unlikely to meet any resistance on her way, at least from Flint riders; their games are serious, and with exception of X'vin's table and another that isn't riders at all, the games tend to fall into silence once a hand is dealt, their attentions tunneling only on their hands and competition. X'vin's pretty face is sneering good-naturedly at a Fortian bluerider to his right as he is dealt in again, and immediately folds. "Buy your own drinks," is their comeuppance for victimizing him so, and he languidly draws one arm back to dangle over the chair back, his fingers tapping staccato on the wood. Someone definitely mutters, with less good nature, "Sore loser," but X'vin's smile doesn't falter as breaks the rhythm, lifting a finger to signal a woman a few tables away who is clearing off an empty pitcher. She gestures back that he should wait a moment. His patience leaves him free to survey -- the hand in progress makes no difference to him, nor those at the other tables, but Jo -- well. She stands out, enough that his gaze sharpens on her to track her progress. A gambling den seems to be Jo's forte - indeed, she's casing the place, noting where everyone is, where the entrances are, and is likely noting any that appear to be strapped for some sort of combat. Dark eyes light on X'vin only once - it's a quick enough skirt that one would never think she's staring at anybody, really. By all intents and purposes, she's just a foreign dragonrider enjoying the atmosphere of a different environment. When she finally reaches X'vin's tables, it's not him that gets her attention. It's the table that's engaged with him, deep in concentration over their cards. However, despite not looking at him, her words are for him: "I think a den like this should be in every single Weyr on Pern, don' you?" is her question, or a greeting, her arms folding across her chest as she watches the game unfold. "Saves me from havin' to fleece men far from my home, but, I 'spose the downside would be that the same fleeced men would then know where I live." By the time the foreign rider has made it to the table, X'vin's eyes have diverted back to the embellished backs of his relinquished hand. Her greeting gets a huff, almost a scoff behind that smile. "I'd say not. But then, I'm no good at this. I'd rather spend my marks on sure things." His clothes support this: well-tailored and expensive, but not ostentatious in that. Not ostentatious at all, really, unless you're looking closely. "I only gamble because they insist, and I'd be buying their drinks anyways." Speaking of, the girl has arrived now, and X'vin makes his request for the table, and the next two over in his generosity, before, "Well, you could always leave that knot in the cold of the mountains, bluerider. Would you like a drink, while I'm at it?" "Sure bets are yer thing, then?" There's dry amusement in that question from Jo, the lingering smirk almost brash. "I'd rather fix the game, personally. In my favor." Now she turns with an inclined head to him, her gaze flicking over his clothing, him. On leaving her knot, "It's cold here, too," she notes, "but I'll take that drink if yer offerin', darlin'." She'll take a seat at his table, too, while she's at it. Eyes drift up from dealt hands, and whether in recognition of Jo or of his absolutely dismal deal, another rider folds. "When it comes to my money, yes," X'vin says at length, once all orders are placed and she's making headway to retrieve them. He gives Jo a meaningful look filled with warning. "I wouldn't breathe about cheating in here, and not because of security. I hear they like the risk of it, but not so much when it's wholly weighted against them. That's why I buy drinks and they go home with empty pouches, more power to them." And though that should serve as some form of deferral, X'vin still adds, "But, in other things, I suppose tipping the scales in my favor would not be wholly objectionable." For the weather, X'vin only chuckles, conceding, "Yes, I suppose it is. We are so hospitable, dragonriders. And rude, to boot. I didn't catch your name." Nor does he offer his. "I tend to ply my vices where a display of aggression is more welcome," and Jo shifts subtly in her seat, the hilt of her blade protruding from her side easily seen at that angle for a few moments before she shifts right back. "'Riders tend to be so touchy 'bout their marks. 'Bout their manners, too. I didn' catch yers, either." Play for play, Jo simpers witha drawl, almost demure in deliver. She almost seems to leave the matter there, but then, looking around, "But," she breathes out, "since I am the stranger here, the name's Jo. Blue Tacuseth's. I bear greetins' from the Reaches to Fort'n their queens." A slow nod is given to him. Seems like she knows formalities after all. One of X'vin's very mobile brows goes up when she moves, and there's no balking, even unarmed as he is. "One more reasont to save my gambits for larger prospects than money." Whatever game they're playing has his smile settling brightly to accompany his apology. "Forgive me, Jo. X'vin, bronze Besmernyth's. Fort's duties to you and yours." The hand concludes, the cards are passed back to the dealer, and someone reaches across when X'vin doesn't offer his own up. He waves a hand to decline being dealt in a third time. "Not again, you thieves. Unless the lady wants to join. I can't imagine anyone who would come here just to play cards with you, though. Did you?" He grins at her sidelong. "Or did you just make a wrong turn at the Star Stones?" "What sort of gambles do ya enjoy then?" Jo has to ask, and when his name is given, there's a touch of recognition, only in the slight narrowing of her eyes. "Well met," she says, the lips curving into something calculating. "'N no," she adds to those present, lifting a hand up to them. "Yer better off not invitin' me to play. I'm not an honest woman'n I don' play fair, which yer friend here has just informed me would not be wise in this place." To X'vin, bluntly, "I know yer name. I think ya met a friend of mine not too long ago." "Situational appropriateness," decides the bronzerider after a few moments' consideration. He seems like he might elaborate, but the girl is there with a precariously balanced drink platter, and he resorts to digging in his pocket for her payment, standing in the process, and the rest of his thought is apparently lost. He doesn't sit again, not there; there's time for her reveal, instead, a thing that piques his interest and dims his smile, ever slightly, but does not stop him from passing a drink to her before he laughs and turns away, casting for an empty table. "We shouldn't take up their seats," he explains, tipping a chin to indicate his direction before starting off that way, where he'll ultimately claim a chair at a table still unmanned and covered in a blanket. "Still doesn't answer why you're here. Unless you were looking for me, which I doubt." Nothing seems to be ringing a bell, even as X'vin settles languidly in his chosen seat, all the better for supervising. "Alida," he echoes, trying to shake out some recollection or another and failing wholly until she mentions his smiling, which, admittedly, is not so overwhelming ever since some sage advice at a random bar. "Ah, she did say I'd find out, eventually. She was not open about her name as you were," insofar as that was forthcoming. "You got lucky. I don't haunt here. It's only just this side of civilized, as much as I appreciate them burning off their steam here." That's of the gambling, as another hand somewhere fails and there's a rise of voices, but nothing dangerous. He studies Jo, smile twitching with open amusement. "What do you have to say?" "I've outted her," Jo states, not looking the least apologetic. "I'll make it up to her. She does have a tendency to forget to drop her name." It's only at the question that she sits, draining half the glass with a smack of lips before she leans back and puts her full regard on him. Keeping her amusement, for the most part, in check. "A bronzerider," she drawls that out. "All the smilin' could mean yer so full of yerself, which is a common trait of men that ride bronze. Ya certainly dress well," and she indicates that with a nod. "I know good material. I've stolen enough of it to, in my day. Not much a risk-taker, which is interestin', though. Not sure what to make of ya, but, ya bought me a drink so that's somethin'," and, with a brazen grin, she drains the last of her drink. "I just wanted to meet ya is all," she finally admits. "See ya for myself. Ain' here to give ya trouble, darlin'." "She knew it would happen," X'vin acknowledges. "She told me as much. I think she might have overestimated how much I cared to find out, but we all have our flaws." Steadily, he takes her evaluation of him, nodding here and there in acknowledgement. "Mostly right. I take measured risks, not foolish ones. Not unlike you, actually." There is an edge of sharp humour and a touch of knowing irony to his next words, "A pretty girl like you? Trouble? I would never suggest that -- it's just not often that people come looking for me. Another?" That's for her drink with a tip of his head. His own glass is still half-full, in all respects. "Ya care 'bout lil'?" It's more of a question than a statement, Jo seeming to point out everything the man says. "It's good ya know yer flaws, at least. How do ya know my risks aren' foolish? How do ya know I ain' trouble?" She's playing with him now, but she's gracious in that nod on a refill as she says, "If ya like to spend on pretty girls that aren' trouble." The smile is indulgent despite the intense scrutiny X'vin is getting now. She even goes on to add, "Ya don' seem like yer from this place. Fort." X'vin clarifies, "I care about plenty, but not happenstance encounters at grubby little bars. Especially when they're barely personable." And yet he's smiling at Jo easily, apparently not affronted by Alida's manners, or any of the rest of it. He turns to look at her more directly, taking a drink. "I figure you are trouble," he says, "I just don't like to assume the worst of people. But a bluerider from Reaches shows up, looking for some man she's only heard about in passing, and apparently not heard much, at that? It doesn't take more than five minutes to decide you're risks are at least measured. You said it yourself," he adds. "You like to tip the scales in your favor." "Ya prefer happenstance encounters at places like this, then?" Jo is quick to counter with a raised brow. But really, it's the rest of what X'vin says that draws a thoughtful (or at least something leaning towards impressed) sort of look. Finally, in the silence, "I am," she admits on being trouble, "but not today." "If I hear somethin' that makes me curious, I tend to follow it up," she continues to admit in her sitting before him with no apologies. "Especially if I've the time to. Ya can meet the most interestin' folks this way. Some even prove to be valuable. Useful. Or, at the very least, entertainin'. If not, no harm...no foul, right? What interests me more, though," and she makes a show of looking him over, "is that ya acknowledge the circumstance of my bein' here'n yet yer still talkin' to me. Some would've walked away from the odd'n yer rather good-lookin' bluerider from the Reaches by now rather than spend their time buyin' her drinks." Brow lifting at him, "Seems like," she says, "yer not so far from likin' to tip scales yerself." X'vin can't suppress his laughter, but it comes out in one, brisk, "Hah! Not exactly. You got lucky to find me here; it's important to them," a gesture to some of the tables containing his wingmates. "The way you make time for curiosity, I make time for this, when I can." He tips his drink back again then sets it on the ground beside him, for now. "Some people are fools," he says, short. "I'm not." Grinning as she nurses her drink, "Dedicated to yer wing? Wingleader? Wingsecond?" and Jo looks him over to try and glean the answer to that on a shoulderknot. "Luck seems to be on my side for now, darlin'," she agrees now with a slight lift of her glass in a toast. "My wing likes to play darts back home in ours, too," she relates. "It's useful in bondin'. Nah, I don' think yer a fool at all." This agreement on observations for his last is given with a slight narrowed eyes as the convict rider assesses him. "I suspect there's more hidden behind that smile of yers than meets the eye. What name were ya before ya Impressed?" she asks now at leisure, her curiosity piqued as she drinks. Here is where X'vin does decide the conversation is over. "I suspect we've all got plenty hidden," he agrees, standing up and taking his glass in hand once again. It could as easily be due to her sudden leisure as her line of questioning, but whatever it is draws the bronzerider to his feet. "As your friend told me, I'm sure you'll pick it up off the grapevine. Who I was then hardly matters now." He sounds perfectly cordial. "If you'd like another, Jo, please do have the bartender add it to my tab. You'll have to excuse me." "Not as many as ya think," Jo counters smoothly as she drains her glass when X'vin stands. That the conversation is effectively over doesn't seem to irk the bluerider none, the woman setting the glass down as she gets to her feet while saying, "The grapevines I follow deal far less with 'riders these days," as she straightens up her black leather jacket. "It's cuz it doesn' matter to ya, it tells me that it matters all the more." Pause. "Don' bother. I've already done all I've needed to do here. Ya ever find yerself on my side of the pond, though," she notes as she steps away from the table, "seek me out. If ya dare." "If you say so," X'vin says lightly. "Who knows; maybe you'll find the right grapevine anyways." His smile fades out for a moment, head tipping off to the side. "I'll see to it." Though she's leaving too, apparently, X'vin doesn't hesitate to head off his own way, tossing, "Safe travels, Jo," over his shoulder as he aways for the door, but only after leaning down and speaking in low tones with one rider on the way out to the ledge, where a small green awaits to take him away. |
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