[LOG] Chicks.
Dudes talk about chicks. I'm too lazy right now for the whole who what where thing. Also, I officially hate lj's on-site entry posting.
Log totally stolen from A'son. Thanks buddy! *smooch... i mean fistpound*
Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr(#270RJs)
Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night.
The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze.
Contents:
Devan
It's atypically quiet here for the afternoon, but Devan isn't complaining. This might just be the only place in the Weyr he's come upon that /doesn't/ come with a lot of noise and people. Sure, he could've gone anywhere with his project, but sometimes a guy just wants peace and a little elbow room. Or a lot, if you're him. He's sitting, hunched over a little wooden box with its lid open that looks ridiculous in his big hand; he's painting, with a little paintbrush, the front of the little box. There are a few bottles and more brushes down there at his feet. La.
Other people are having a quiet afternoon, too. Or at least they're looking for one. A'son comes through, looking over his shoulder, checking to make sure there isn't anyone unsavory around. In his hand, he's holding a pouch that swings back and forth as he walks. Devan eventually comes to his attention as he looks for a place to rest. He doesn't say a word as he finds a small work table and drags it over, along with a chair. Unfortunately this makes some noise. Then the pouch is placed on a table and he begins to take out his own little project. Block of wood, uncut, knife, other tools.
So they will be two big grown men doing arts and crafts. So long as nobody comes across them then nobody gets hurt. A'son might not speak, but his dragging does. And maybe his boots a little before that. So Devan's watching while the bronzerider readies his work area, and maybe curses himself a little for not thinking of doing that too, and shifts his elbow on his knee. Leaning sucks. "Hey." ', friend.'
"Haven't seen you lately, been busy?" A'son asks of his friend. He picks the block up in his hand stares at it. If only wood could speak. The knife is twirled around idly between his fingers. His brown eyes slip from the thing not a project to the bigger man across from him. "What are you working on?" Then he moves his tool, beginning to just chip away at what's in front of him.
"You could call it that." Evasive maneuvers! There isn't anything small about the amount of interest Devan shows when watching A'son eye that chunk of wood. Mostly because he knows the guy's good at carving, and because /he/ isn't. But he does glance down at the little box when it's asked after. "It's a girly box." The man doesn't sugar coat. "Found it. It was broken so I fixed it, and now I'm makin' it all pretty." Or trying.
"What would /you/ call it?" He asks, pausing to look up. Dark 'brows twitch into an arch, "Something else?" A hint of amusement in A'son's voice, "Where'd you find it?" The pause continues and he leans forward just enough to see it a little closer. "Giving it away when you're done or keeping it for your marks and jewelery?" He grins, sitting down again and taking more of those decisive movements.
Happy enough to show it off a little, he lifts his hands for A'son's scrutiny's sake. Then lowers them, idly and casually makes a swirly right there on the wood. "Stores. And I dunno yet." With a wry mouth-quirk for 'jewelry'. Trust a friend to mock you for wearing a couple of bracelets, yeesh. He's taking the roundabout to those other questions, because they take a little thought first. Finally, "You ever tell a girl you like 'er and she ran away from you?" Which is totally like an answer!
"I told one I liked her recently. I kissed her and she... looked horrified. Then I tried to leave and she wouldn't let me. Is that like the same thing?" A'son asks, looking at the box when it's shown off. "Huh, not too bad. Give it to the girl who ran away from you." He lowers his eyes again, "But then that's a suggestion from me. Take it with a grain of salt."
Eyebrows go up, pull in. Bemused. "Girls are always lookin' scared about kisses. Even if they kiss you back, right before it's that look on their face like--" And he makes a face, eyebrows /way/ up and eyes sort of unfocused and mouth slack. And it's gone; Devan's grinning. "At least your girl wanted you around. This one couldn't get out fast enough." He considers the box. "She'd hate somethin' like this."
"Oh, but she didn't want me there for like... anything. Just to explain, I guess." A'son shrugs his shoulders, looking particularly helpless. "We do couple things together but..." There's a trail off there as if he doesn't know where to go with it. Catching the scared woman impersonation, he laughs. "Nice one. Where'd you learn that?" He scrapes away some more layers, "She doesn't sound like a winner so far. Don't like you, don't like boxes."
'Couple things'. Maybe Devan gets it. He's making the nods like he does. "You guys... yet?" Big blank pause for the obvious. Because 'done it' and 'fucked' are things he Does Not Say. And the other ones are either too technical or too mushy. Can't have that, two guys sittin' around whittling and painting. Where'd he learn the face? Here's another, a knowing one, with, "Seen it many times before, my friend." He's been scaring women since puberty. Pause. "Thing is, she is a winner. Think it's me."
"Nope. Sleep together though." A'son makes a disgusted sigh, "I think I've moved into the friend zone. There's no recovering from that. Unless something miraculous happens. Like I almost die." Yes, they're quite manly man. Whatever he's making is starting to take shape. It's some sort of face, likely animal. "I don't think so. I don't know her, but I know you." A thoughtful pause as he looks up. "If I were a woman, I'd marry you."
Wince. Friend zone. "Eesh. No, no there isn't." Recovering. Or hope. "We could always work out some elaborate plan where I make pretend like I'm killin' you and you fight me off and come out unscathed 'cept for one little scratch on your cheek she can patch up for you." And that's without putting any thought into it at all! Taking a small hiatus from the painting scene, he sets the box down on a square of cloth and fiddles with the paint brush while absently watching A'son work. Which means he's looking when he looks up. Which means maybe they can share this laughter that happens. "Oho, brother. That's one of the weirdest things you've ever said to me." Which is saying something.
"We could! Only works if she doesn't know you though. If she were to know you, she'd be suspicious. But if it did work, I don't know if we could ever be in the same room again. We'd have to pretend to hate each other for the rest of our lives." A'son taps the non-scary end of the knife on his chin. "I don't know if I can keep a lie like that up for thirty something years. Plus." The eye contact is made at the right time and he laughs, "I could some even weirder things to you, if you want." 'brows are waggled appropriately.
"Oh please, lay 'em on me." Devan beckons the weirdness with his fingers. "Please." He hasn't really stopped at least chuckling, the eyebrows make him choke on a not very manly giggle-like sound. While recovering he leans on the arm of his chair and takes deep breaths. "Oooh man. No look, we're guys. We're good at beatin' the crap out of each other'n then makin' nice the next day, it's like... what we do or somethin', you ask any girl."
"Beating the crap is a little different from..." A'son trails off before leaning back and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Hey, you piece of crap! Get back here, I'm going to murder you until you're good and dead!" This is yelled, at the top of his lungs. Several lower caverns women give both men either confused or irritated looks. Men! "And then you like, choking me out or something." He leans back and laughs again, "Oh, really? I'd like to lay one on you, you've got such a purty looking mouth there..."
He doesn't even /flinch/ at the loud noises. Men, indeed. What he does do is shake his head, entirely fond, at the other guy and tap his lip with his forefinger. "Mmhm, mmhm. You have a point there." And more laughter. "I do an awesome chokehold, been practicin' my whole life." And if childhood friends were ever practice partners, A'son might know that. The next round of weirdness earns the bronzerider some more of Devan's loud, some might say maniacal laughter. "Oh Faranth help me. Seriously though, who's this girl anyway? How'm I supposed to know if she'd know me or not?"
"I can do a good 'oh, shards, I'm dying, I'm dying, aghhhh' impersonation." The parts he's going to pretend? A'son does those, saying them in a strangled voice. The block is examined from some more sides before he starts defining the eyes on it. "She's a little thing. Greenrider, assistant weyrlingmaster in the barracks. Persie?" He looks up at Devan to see if there's any flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Very nice," is Devan's casual, so professional assessment. It isn't every day you get a really good fake death. He even golf claps. And, chin in hand, he watches the face and the eyes develop like it's a really intense magic show, and leans, and listens. And it isn't until A'son hits 'Persie' that the recognition is there. And it is. "Oh yeah yeah yeah, she's cute." Which carries the 'atta boy' tone.
Manly laughter follows the golf clapping. "Thank you, thank you. This is my finest performance yet." A'son wipes fake tears away from his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." Such a guy, reaction. "She is. Great girl, great woman, actually." There's a strange distant look in his eyes for a second. It could probably be described as sappy. "She's been there for me a lot the last couple of months, since I got back. Taken care of me." There's a shake of his head, "Okay, so you know about Persie." A finger is pointed. "What about yours? Gotta name?"
Wow, they're using /'woman'/? That's a big kid word! Devan looks so proud. When A'son speaks on 'since he got back', he does some distant-looking of his own, mostly down at his shoes. Because for someone who's known the guy as long as he has, knowing him now is a little-- different. But who can you count on to be there when you're going through some crazy if not a good friend? Hence why Devan can look A'son in the eye again only a second later, on 'taken care of'. "She played tic tac toe with me," he shares. And-- "Uh. Her name's Evayne. She's the... trader. Came in. Stayed." Like traders so often do! ...
"Tic tac toe?" A'son repeats, his expression is blank until he begins to laugh. "Ha! Yeah, that sounds like her." He shakes his head, apparently just tickled pink by this. "She helped me paint my weyr and get a kit-" He cuts it short there. "Kitchen grinder." ....?? Moving on. Recognition catches in /his/ eyes this time. "Evayne? I know her! She was there one night at the lake. That's a pretty girl right there." He nods approvingly.
Kitchen... grinder... Devan's face is priceless there, all confused and dark-eyed suspicious. His mouth is forming the 'w' for 'what?' when A'son reacts to the name. Then his eyebrows go up and he nods slowly, fingers to his mouth. Yeah. "She is," he agrees easily, because she so is. "I never know what t'do with pretty girls like that." Except he does. Oh he does. There's a pause in here, then he's slowly eyeing his friend. "Kitchen grinder?" Back to that.
"Did you just tell her you were interested in her and she ran off? Or was there something else you did?" A'son asks finally just putting his little craft project down on the table. Obviously not going to get much done here. "Yeah, kitchen grinder. So that I could grind things up in my weyr. You know like... coconut flakes." The bronzerider is trying to keep a neutral face, but he's so clearly hiding something.
/So/ clearly! But first, "Y'know, there's like a-- it's easy t'just--" What? Devan flails. "We may've done... somethin'... in the privacy of my..." lair? "It's all fucked up. Where the hell're you gettin' coconuts from, and why's it so crucial you flake 'em in your weyr?" Nice try. His smile curves all sly up on his mouth. "What'd she really help you get?" It's quite possible his mind is gravitating in the direction of 'dirty things'.
"Your closet of a set of quarters? Devan, did you have sex with her?" A'son peers closer at the younger of them. Slowly, "Did you make it seem lighthearted and fancy free in the beginning and /then/ spring the feelings on her?" The insinuation of dirty things results in him starting to flail himself. "Nothing! Just, I need to flake them there because.. I can't be dis-" Sigh, he's failing. He knows it. "A kitten."
They're both flailing! And revealing things in turns! Devan sort of physically brushes away A'son's questions for now in favor of his own. And when the real truth comes out he widens his eyes, eyebrows up again, and makes the thinnest of lines with his mouth. A kitten. It's like there's things at war in his head. In the most serious voice ever used ever, "You have a kitten and you didn't even tell me?" The pain.
"It's just- It's sort of..." A'son taps his fingers on the table. "It's not very masculine to have a /kitten/. I'm a big, bad bronzerider and I have a little itty bitty kitten living with me. She snuggles with me and leaves hair all over my clothes. I had to put a divider up in in my weyr to make sure she didn't run to the ledge and dive off." It all comes out in a rush and his head hangs a little. "You didn't answer my question!" Reminder!
In response to that, Devan looks around them at their little impromptu work area and their respective crafts and throws his hands in the air. Like he just don't care. And that should prove his point well enough, but he also says, "I think we're both a little bit beyond worryin' about what's masculine, buddy. Besides, it got you in with a pretty girl." Which is a lesson he just recently learned. Since they're sharing. "We had sex, yeah." Which he says sort of like he's attacking A'son. "I told 'er I like 'er! Not that I wanna marry 'er."
Vaan heads in from the residents' wing.
Vaan has arrived.
"Women are too complicated. You know that? You have sex with her, she runs away. You try to be her friend? Then that's all they want and you can't move it past that stage." A'son sighs and rubs his forehead. "Well, with some of them that's all you've got to do. They think that's like a marriage proposal in and out of itself. Silly things."
"Right right. It's depressing how it's bang 'em'n get out or fall into their weird world where nothin' makes any sense. You lay 'em'n try to make 'em feel like they mean more to you'n look what it gets you. I swear, first thing I wanted t'do was find some willin' laundry girl or somethin', just to get that look on her face outta my head." But this time Devan doesn't try to duplicate it for A'son, just stares off at nothing with this weird haunted thing happening in his eyes. "It isn't right, gettin' torn down like that. How they can do that just by lookin' at you."
Vaan walks in with a mug in his hand smelling like klah. He takes a sip from the mug as he looks around the room for a place to sit. He takes a chair and looks around the room for some company he sees A'son talking with another man. He walks up and greets both A'son and the other. Looking at A'son " How are you?" He turns and waves to the other " Hi nice to meet you my name is vaan." He gives the two other men a grin " So what are you talking about?"
"You never know which it's going to be, either! One woman you could care less about and then another just grabs you and sucks you right in." A'son drops his elbow onto the table, rubbing his face. "Then you got the ones that stab you right in the back." There's a lengthy sort of sigh for that and his eyes take on a similarly haunted expression to Devan's. "No, right at all. What's with that? They think they can just flutter their eyelashes at you and it's all okay!" The arrival of Vaan seems to startle him. "Oh, hey, kid. How's it going? Just discussing women, that's all."
"The /fffin'/," which is like real swearing, only with teeth biting down on your lip to keep the actual word from coming out, "eyelashes, man. What is /with/ the eyelashes?" Deranged? Maybe a little, but they're talking about girls. Who could blame a little insanity? He may or may not know which woman stabbed A'son in the back, but he's sympathetic regardless. "You know what we need t'do? We need t'drink. Go out'n drink where there's girls we can look at that won't totally freak us out." Vaan came in at a weird time, but Devan gives him a distracted sort of wave. "Hey, Devan."
Vaan hear what the topic of the conversation is " I understand what your talking about. The way they play games with you then cast you off to the wind. A Drink? sounds like a good idea it's always a good time to go drinking." He looks at A'son for a moment. " I am doing pretty good how about you?" He gives a grin at a'son " So do you know how the egg heavy gold is doing? I hear she should be clutching soon."
A'son flutters his eyelashes at Devan, pouts his lips. "Just like that! Then they've got you in their snares." He snaps his fingers. "Exactly what we should do. I know this bar in Tillek. Oh man, the women there. We could have a good night of it. We should round up all the guys, go down and just blow off some steam." He's contemplating this idea like other men would contemplate fine wine or a long vacation. "Little young to be going drinking, kid." He notes to Vaan with a smirk. The question about the gold gets a shrug. "Not a clue. Whenever she lays 'em, she lays 'em."
Whitchek heads in from the residents' wing.
Whitchek has arrived.
Revolting! And not just because A'son is the flutterer! Devan would back away if he weren't sitting, so all he can do is lean. He leans, /away/. Tillek sounds promising. In fact, Tillek sounds like the best place in the world. "Never been to Tillek. How many you think Nikoth could fit?" Luckily Nikoth is one of the guys. He gazes up at the ceiling and tunes out to do math in his head. "Me, you... three..." And possibly do some other figuring out, like times he could get away, and exactly how many girls might be waiting for him.
Vaan slightly raises his brow. " Kid? I am not a kid." He grins at A'son " Besides i was just agreeing with Devan's idea. I don't mind the idea of drinking I just don't like the headache in the morning." He laughs " Tillek does sound like a nice trip I've never seen it either." theres a pause in his speach then he realises how they would get there. " you mean going on a dragon the would be interesting considering I have never even touched one." He turns his glaze down to the ground in thought.
"Anyone younger than me by roughly ten turns or more is a kid. And you look like you're more than ten turns younger than me." A'son tells Vaan in a good natured sort of way. Shifting his attention back to Devan again, "Tillek's a decent enough place. I could always grab another guy from my wing. Then we could add a few more people." Numbers are being counted on the bronzerider's fingers. "Nikoth could hold someone in his mouth..." Joking!
When Whitchek comes out from the direction of the residential quarters, the part he catches is the tail end of A'son's statement: We could add a few more people, Nikoth could hold someone in his mouth. As a result, even though Whit's got no good reason to want to be anywhere near A'son and several very good reasons not to, his path through the cavern just happens to bear him in that direction. Just close enough to assuage curiosity, of course.
A'son suddenly slaps his hand down onto the table. "Nikoth, damnit. I can't be there every time you kill something big." He says outloud. The bronzerider rolls his eyes. "Dragons. Always thinking you want to see the gory insides of stuff." He's getting to his feet, picking up his block of wood and instruments. They're put back into his pouch. "Look, Devan. I'll catch up with you later about this. We'll make plans. Sorry about your woman, too." He gives Vaan a wave. Whitchek is noticed as he departs and the other young man, despite previous history is given a wave. "I'm /coming/. Okay, I'm coming." Then he's gone.
Log totally stolen from A'son. Thanks buddy! *smooch... i mean fistpound*
Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr(#270RJs)
Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night.
The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze.
Contents:
Devan
It's atypically quiet here for the afternoon, but Devan isn't complaining. This might just be the only place in the Weyr he's come upon that /doesn't/ come with a lot of noise and people. Sure, he could've gone anywhere with his project, but sometimes a guy just wants peace and a little elbow room. Or a lot, if you're him. He's sitting, hunched over a little wooden box with its lid open that looks ridiculous in his big hand; he's painting, with a little paintbrush, the front of the little box. There are a few bottles and more brushes down there at his feet. La.
Other people are having a quiet afternoon, too. Or at least they're looking for one. A'son comes through, looking over his shoulder, checking to make sure there isn't anyone unsavory around. In his hand, he's holding a pouch that swings back and forth as he walks. Devan eventually comes to his attention as he looks for a place to rest. He doesn't say a word as he finds a small work table and drags it over, along with a chair. Unfortunately this makes some noise. Then the pouch is placed on a table and he begins to take out his own little project. Block of wood, uncut, knife, other tools.
So they will be two big grown men doing arts and crafts. So long as nobody comes across them then nobody gets hurt. A'son might not speak, but his dragging does. And maybe his boots a little before that. So Devan's watching while the bronzerider readies his work area, and maybe curses himself a little for not thinking of doing that too, and shifts his elbow on his knee. Leaning sucks. "Hey." ', friend.'
"Haven't seen you lately, been busy?" A'son asks of his friend. He picks the block up in his hand stares at it. If only wood could speak. The knife is twirled around idly between his fingers. His brown eyes slip from the thing not a project to the bigger man across from him. "What are you working on?" Then he moves his tool, beginning to just chip away at what's in front of him.
"You could call it that." Evasive maneuvers! There isn't anything small about the amount of interest Devan shows when watching A'son eye that chunk of wood. Mostly because he knows the guy's good at carving, and because /he/ isn't. But he does glance down at the little box when it's asked after. "It's a girly box." The man doesn't sugar coat. "Found it. It was broken so I fixed it, and now I'm makin' it all pretty." Or trying.
"What would /you/ call it?" He asks, pausing to look up. Dark 'brows twitch into an arch, "Something else?" A hint of amusement in A'son's voice, "Where'd you find it?" The pause continues and he leans forward just enough to see it a little closer. "Giving it away when you're done or keeping it for your marks and jewelery?" He grins, sitting down again and taking more of those decisive movements.
Happy enough to show it off a little, he lifts his hands for A'son's scrutiny's sake. Then lowers them, idly and casually makes a swirly right there on the wood. "Stores. And I dunno yet." With a wry mouth-quirk for 'jewelry'. Trust a friend to mock you for wearing a couple of bracelets, yeesh. He's taking the roundabout to those other questions, because they take a little thought first. Finally, "You ever tell a girl you like 'er and she ran away from you?" Which is totally like an answer!
"I told one I liked her recently. I kissed her and she... looked horrified. Then I tried to leave and she wouldn't let me. Is that like the same thing?" A'son asks, looking at the box when it's shown off. "Huh, not too bad. Give it to the girl who ran away from you." He lowers his eyes again, "But then that's a suggestion from me. Take it with a grain of salt."
Eyebrows go up, pull in. Bemused. "Girls are always lookin' scared about kisses. Even if they kiss you back, right before it's that look on their face like--" And he makes a face, eyebrows /way/ up and eyes sort of unfocused and mouth slack. And it's gone; Devan's grinning. "At least your girl wanted you around. This one couldn't get out fast enough." He considers the box. "She'd hate somethin' like this."
"Oh, but she didn't want me there for like... anything. Just to explain, I guess." A'son shrugs his shoulders, looking particularly helpless. "We do couple things together but..." There's a trail off there as if he doesn't know where to go with it. Catching the scared woman impersonation, he laughs. "Nice one. Where'd you learn that?" He scrapes away some more layers, "She doesn't sound like a winner so far. Don't like you, don't like boxes."
'Couple things'. Maybe Devan gets it. He's making the nods like he does. "You guys... yet?" Big blank pause for the obvious. Because 'done it' and 'fucked' are things he Does Not Say. And the other ones are either too technical or too mushy. Can't have that, two guys sittin' around whittling and painting. Where'd he learn the face? Here's another, a knowing one, with, "Seen it many times before, my friend." He's been scaring women since puberty. Pause. "Thing is, she is a winner. Think it's me."
"Nope. Sleep together though." A'son makes a disgusted sigh, "I think I've moved into the friend zone. There's no recovering from that. Unless something miraculous happens. Like I almost die." Yes, they're quite manly man. Whatever he's making is starting to take shape. It's some sort of face, likely animal. "I don't think so. I don't know her, but I know you." A thoughtful pause as he looks up. "If I were a woman, I'd marry you."
Wince. Friend zone. "Eesh. No, no there isn't." Recovering. Or hope. "We could always work out some elaborate plan where I make pretend like I'm killin' you and you fight me off and come out unscathed 'cept for one little scratch on your cheek she can patch up for you." And that's without putting any thought into it at all! Taking a small hiatus from the painting scene, he sets the box down on a square of cloth and fiddles with the paint brush while absently watching A'son work. Which means he's looking when he looks up. Which means maybe they can share this laughter that happens. "Oho, brother. That's one of the weirdest things you've ever said to me." Which is saying something.
"We could! Only works if she doesn't know you though. If she were to know you, she'd be suspicious. But if it did work, I don't know if we could ever be in the same room again. We'd have to pretend to hate each other for the rest of our lives." A'son taps the non-scary end of the knife on his chin. "I don't know if I can keep a lie like that up for thirty something years. Plus." The eye contact is made at the right time and he laughs, "I could some even weirder things to you, if you want." 'brows are waggled appropriately.
"Oh please, lay 'em on me." Devan beckons the weirdness with his fingers. "Please." He hasn't really stopped at least chuckling, the eyebrows make him choke on a not very manly giggle-like sound. While recovering he leans on the arm of his chair and takes deep breaths. "Oooh man. No look, we're guys. We're good at beatin' the crap out of each other'n then makin' nice the next day, it's like... what we do or somethin', you ask any girl."
"Beating the crap is a little different from..." A'son trails off before leaning back and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Hey, you piece of crap! Get back here, I'm going to murder you until you're good and dead!" This is yelled, at the top of his lungs. Several lower caverns women give both men either confused or irritated looks. Men! "And then you like, choking me out or something." He leans back and laughs again, "Oh, really? I'd like to lay one on you, you've got such a purty looking mouth there..."
He doesn't even /flinch/ at the loud noises. Men, indeed. What he does do is shake his head, entirely fond, at the other guy and tap his lip with his forefinger. "Mmhm, mmhm. You have a point there." And more laughter. "I do an awesome chokehold, been practicin' my whole life." And if childhood friends were ever practice partners, A'son might know that. The next round of weirdness earns the bronzerider some more of Devan's loud, some might say maniacal laughter. "Oh Faranth help me. Seriously though, who's this girl anyway? How'm I supposed to know if she'd know me or not?"
"I can do a good 'oh, shards, I'm dying, I'm dying, aghhhh' impersonation." The parts he's going to pretend? A'son does those, saying them in a strangled voice. The block is examined from some more sides before he starts defining the eyes on it. "She's a little thing. Greenrider, assistant weyrlingmaster in the barracks. Persie?" He looks up at Devan to see if there's any flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Very nice," is Devan's casual, so professional assessment. It isn't every day you get a really good fake death. He even golf claps. And, chin in hand, he watches the face and the eyes develop like it's a really intense magic show, and leans, and listens. And it isn't until A'son hits 'Persie' that the recognition is there. And it is. "Oh yeah yeah yeah, she's cute." Which carries the 'atta boy' tone.
Manly laughter follows the golf clapping. "Thank you, thank you. This is my finest performance yet." A'son wipes fake tears away from his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." Such a guy, reaction. "She is. Great girl, great woman, actually." There's a strange distant look in his eyes for a second. It could probably be described as sappy. "She's been there for me a lot the last couple of months, since I got back. Taken care of me." There's a shake of his head, "Okay, so you know about Persie." A finger is pointed. "What about yours? Gotta name?"
Wow, they're using /'woman'/? That's a big kid word! Devan looks so proud. When A'son speaks on 'since he got back', he does some distant-looking of his own, mostly down at his shoes. Because for someone who's known the guy as long as he has, knowing him now is a little-- different. But who can you count on to be there when you're going through some crazy if not a good friend? Hence why Devan can look A'son in the eye again only a second later, on 'taken care of'. "She played tic tac toe with me," he shares. And-- "Uh. Her name's Evayne. She's the... trader. Came in. Stayed." Like traders so often do! ...
"Tic tac toe?" A'son repeats, his expression is blank until he begins to laugh. "Ha! Yeah, that sounds like her." He shakes his head, apparently just tickled pink by this. "She helped me paint my weyr and get a kit-" He cuts it short there. "Kitchen grinder." ....?? Moving on. Recognition catches in /his/ eyes this time. "Evayne? I know her! She was there one night at the lake. That's a pretty girl right there." He nods approvingly.
Kitchen... grinder... Devan's face is priceless there, all confused and dark-eyed suspicious. His mouth is forming the 'w' for 'what?' when A'son reacts to the name. Then his eyebrows go up and he nods slowly, fingers to his mouth. Yeah. "She is," he agrees easily, because she so is. "I never know what t'do with pretty girls like that." Except he does. Oh he does. There's a pause in here, then he's slowly eyeing his friend. "Kitchen grinder?" Back to that.
"Did you just tell her you were interested in her and she ran off? Or was there something else you did?" A'son asks finally just putting his little craft project down on the table. Obviously not going to get much done here. "Yeah, kitchen grinder. So that I could grind things up in my weyr. You know like... coconut flakes." The bronzerider is trying to keep a neutral face, but he's so clearly hiding something.
/So/ clearly! But first, "Y'know, there's like a-- it's easy t'just--" What? Devan flails. "We may've done... somethin'... in the privacy of my..." lair? "It's all fucked up. Where the hell're you gettin' coconuts from, and why's it so crucial you flake 'em in your weyr?" Nice try. His smile curves all sly up on his mouth. "What'd she really help you get?" It's quite possible his mind is gravitating in the direction of 'dirty things'.
"Your closet of a set of quarters? Devan, did you have sex with her?" A'son peers closer at the younger of them. Slowly, "Did you make it seem lighthearted and fancy free in the beginning and /then/ spring the feelings on her?" The insinuation of dirty things results in him starting to flail himself. "Nothing! Just, I need to flake them there because.. I can't be dis-" Sigh, he's failing. He knows it. "A kitten."
They're both flailing! And revealing things in turns! Devan sort of physically brushes away A'son's questions for now in favor of his own. And when the real truth comes out he widens his eyes, eyebrows up again, and makes the thinnest of lines with his mouth. A kitten. It's like there's things at war in his head. In the most serious voice ever used ever, "You have a kitten and you didn't even tell me?" The pain.
"It's just- It's sort of..." A'son taps his fingers on the table. "It's not very masculine to have a /kitten/. I'm a big, bad bronzerider and I have a little itty bitty kitten living with me. She snuggles with me and leaves hair all over my clothes. I had to put a divider up in in my weyr to make sure she didn't run to the ledge and dive off." It all comes out in a rush and his head hangs a little. "You didn't answer my question!" Reminder!
In response to that, Devan looks around them at their little impromptu work area and their respective crafts and throws his hands in the air. Like he just don't care. And that should prove his point well enough, but he also says, "I think we're both a little bit beyond worryin' about what's masculine, buddy. Besides, it got you in with a pretty girl." Which is a lesson he just recently learned. Since they're sharing. "We had sex, yeah." Which he says sort of like he's attacking A'son. "I told 'er I like 'er! Not that I wanna marry 'er."
Vaan heads in from the residents' wing.
Vaan has arrived.
"Women are too complicated. You know that? You have sex with her, she runs away. You try to be her friend? Then that's all they want and you can't move it past that stage." A'son sighs and rubs his forehead. "Well, with some of them that's all you've got to do. They think that's like a marriage proposal in and out of itself. Silly things."
"Right right. It's depressing how it's bang 'em'n get out or fall into their weird world where nothin' makes any sense. You lay 'em'n try to make 'em feel like they mean more to you'n look what it gets you. I swear, first thing I wanted t'do was find some willin' laundry girl or somethin', just to get that look on her face outta my head." But this time Devan doesn't try to duplicate it for A'son, just stares off at nothing with this weird haunted thing happening in his eyes. "It isn't right, gettin' torn down like that. How they can do that just by lookin' at you."
Vaan walks in with a mug in his hand smelling like klah. He takes a sip from the mug as he looks around the room for a place to sit. He takes a chair and looks around the room for some company he sees A'son talking with another man. He walks up and greets both A'son and the other. Looking at A'son " How are you?" He turns and waves to the other " Hi nice to meet you my name is vaan." He gives the two other men a grin " So what are you talking about?"
"You never know which it's going to be, either! One woman you could care less about and then another just grabs you and sucks you right in." A'son drops his elbow onto the table, rubbing his face. "Then you got the ones that stab you right in the back." There's a lengthy sort of sigh for that and his eyes take on a similarly haunted expression to Devan's. "No, right at all. What's with that? They think they can just flutter their eyelashes at you and it's all okay!" The arrival of Vaan seems to startle him. "Oh, hey, kid. How's it going? Just discussing women, that's all."
"The /fffin'/," which is like real swearing, only with teeth biting down on your lip to keep the actual word from coming out, "eyelashes, man. What is /with/ the eyelashes?" Deranged? Maybe a little, but they're talking about girls. Who could blame a little insanity? He may or may not know which woman stabbed A'son in the back, but he's sympathetic regardless. "You know what we need t'do? We need t'drink. Go out'n drink where there's girls we can look at that won't totally freak us out." Vaan came in at a weird time, but Devan gives him a distracted sort of wave. "Hey, Devan."
Vaan hear what the topic of the conversation is " I understand what your talking about. The way they play games with you then cast you off to the wind. A Drink? sounds like a good idea it's always a good time to go drinking." He looks at A'son for a moment. " I am doing pretty good how about you?" He gives a grin at a'son " So do you know how the egg heavy gold is doing? I hear she should be clutching soon."
A'son flutters his eyelashes at Devan, pouts his lips. "Just like that! Then they've got you in their snares." He snaps his fingers. "Exactly what we should do. I know this bar in Tillek. Oh man, the women there. We could have a good night of it. We should round up all the guys, go down and just blow off some steam." He's contemplating this idea like other men would contemplate fine wine or a long vacation. "Little young to be going drinking, kid." He notes to Vaan with a smirk. The question about the gold gets a shrug. "Not a clue. Whenever she lays 'em, she lays 'em."
Whitchek heads in from the residents' wing.
Whitchek has arrived.
Revolting! And not just because A'son is the flutterer! Devan would back away if he weren't sitting, so all he can do is lean. He leans, /away/. Tillek sounds promising. In fact, Tillek sounds like the best place in the world. "Never been to Tillek. How many you think Nikoth could fit?" Luckily Nikoth is one of the guys. He gazes up at the ceiling and tunes out to do math in his head. "Me, you... three..." And possibly do some other figuring out, like times he could get away, and exactly how many girls might be waiting for him.
Vaan slightly raises his brow. " Kid? I am not a kid." He grins at A'son " Besides i was just agreeing with Devan's idea. I don't mind the idea of drinking I just don't like the headache in the morning." He laughs " Tillek does sound like a nice trip I've never seen it either." theres a pause in his speach then he realises how they would get there. " you mean going on a dragon the would be interesting considering I have never even touched one." He turns his glaze down to the ground in thought.
"Anyone younger than me by roughly ten turns or more is a kid. And you look like you're more than ten turns younger than me." A'son tells Vaan in a good natured sort of way. Shifting his attention back to Devan again, "Tillek's a decent enough place. I could always grab another guy from my wing. Then we could add a few more people." Numbers are being counted on the bronzerider's fingers. "Nikoth could hold someone in his mouth..." Joking!
When Whitchek comes out from the direction of the residential quarters, the part he catches is the tail end of A'son's statement: We could add a few more people, Nikoth could hold someone in his mouth. As a result, even though Whit's got no good reason to want to be anywhere near A'son and several very good reasons not to, his path through the cavern just happens to bear him in that direction. Just close enough to assuage curiosity, of course.
A'son suddenly slaps his hand down onto the table. "Nikoth, damnit. I can't be there every time you kill something big." He says outloud. The bronzerider rolls his eyes. "Dragons. Always thinking you want to see the gory insides of stuff." He's getting to his feet, picking up his block of wood and instruments. They're put back into his pouch. "Look, Devan. I'll catch up with you later about this. We'll make plans. Sorry about your woman, too." He gives Vaan a wave. Whitchek is noticed as he departs and the other young man, despite previous history is given a wave. "I'm /coming/. Okay, I'm coming." Then he's gone.