[LOG] Business.
The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr(#700RJ)
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.
The tavern's business never really picked up tonight, an unfortunate turn of events for the tavern owner who just signed away ten percent of her profits to a couple of blackmailers. Those who remain at the bar can all be called lingerers at this point, and there are very few; just those three loners at the bar, each one lost in his own thoughts, a table of quietly conversing friends and a pair just picking up to leave remain. Maybe because of this, the staff seem sparser, too. Only June and Ruesse are immediately visible, the latter tending the bar while the former is cleaning up. June's gathered a large part of the dishes and bottles from the table she's at now, but she hovers over the last mug, squinting at a sizeable crack running down the side with a drawn, displeased set to her mouth.
In comes K'aus. There's no dramatic opening of doors or stopping in the arch to strike a pose. He just shows up, looking really disheveled and a little bit dirty and sporting a cut on his lower lip. He does stop just inside, not to pose but to look carefully for a certain redhead. She's easier to find than usual here in this lack of a crowd, he does find her. Quick, long strides take him to her; he stops, his black eyes intent on her face, on her physical wellbeing, as if he could take note of that from out here on this side of her clothes, and then his dirty hands take the mug away from her, then the rest of the dishes, and then her hands. He wants to tow her away to the stairs, up them, into a room, it doesn't matter.
His fluster transfers to June, her eyes widening as soon as she notices him and the state he's in. The mug is surrendered with only half a glance, she's too busy processing his sudden appearance, that split on his lip. "What's ..." she begins, and he begins his tow, throwing off her train of thought as her feet follow by default. "Are you okay?" She finally gets out a full, worried thought, only to be interrupted by Ruesse, prompting simply, "June?" June waves the concern away with a snippet of a frown, then turns that same expression on him as he pulls her to the base of the stairs.
Not only to the base but up, also. Up the stairs, slowly so she doesn't trip in her lady shoes, to the doors. To the one door. There's a sudden small moment of panic when he reaches it, his room; he drops her hands but gives her a look like 'stay' and rummages in his pockets, both at once. The relief in him is so obvious when he pulls the key out as if he's very happy to see it didn't get perhaps taken from him. Once he has the door unlocked he opens it and ushers her through, giving the area one more paranoid glance before following. Ruesse will have to hold down the fort on her own or with another sister, this one's been commandeered. Inside, once the door is closed, K'aus turns to her and without delay pulls her to him so that he can put his mouth to her shoulder; his hands find her hip and the side of her face, respectively.
June stays. Her look is searching, utterly questioning as she watches him fumble, but she stays and she's quiet all the way into the room, all the way to being pressed against him. Almost instinctively, her own hand conforms to a curve of his back, comforting and firm. He gets a handful of seconds only, before she speaks again, her tone reminding but gently so. "K'aus." She needs nothing more, he should know no matter the situation. For one, he still has a question he hasn't addressed, and she doesn't like her unanswered questions to remain so for very long. Also, if this is meant to be another of his more routine visits, there needs to be marks exchanged before things progress much further.
His name is all it takes to bring him back down. Oh right. Over her shoulder his eyes wander and his hand moves to cradle the back of her head, his index finger wiggling in her hair but not enough to disrupt it. After a moment he can pull away and he does, releasing her and taking a step back to disentangle them both from each other. K'aus looks down at his hands, notices them, then at her, squinting as if to check on if he left marks on her or not. While doing so he starts to speak, sounding a little distracted. "You didn't tell me about your new friends."
June stands her ground and lets him retreat, arms crossing idly while he gathers himself again. With her expression relaxed as it is, he may find traces of her weariness; it's been a long night for her, too, apparently. Her reply will lapse a bit, but it comes a few puzzled blinks later. "I don't know who you're talking about," she admits, shaking her head as if that could reinforce her claim.
"No?" K'aus briefly tongues the cut on his lip, wincing all the while. "Huh. No? Really?" His head tilts to one side and his expression is one as if in deep thought. "That's interesting June, and not in like the wow, interesting facts kind of way but in like the huh, that's interesting because I just got done in a meeting with some really nice men in an anonymous room-- they were also anonymous-- and one of /them/ told me that they put some guys in here." He's meeting her eyes again when he adds, "Like that kind of interesting."
June doesn't like the way he's talking to her. Or maybe she doesn't like what he's saying. Either way, her brows knot faintly to show that dislike. It takes her a moment more after he finishes speaking to come to a realization, the delay spent on a few more helpless head shakes. But suddenly, she wonders, "Are you talking about those bastards from tonight?" And her frown only deepens. "Well, I might have told you before, but seeing as this is the first time I've seen you since..." Dry and pointed though it is, she rushes right on through it; it's not the most important point right now. "What happened to you?" she demands elaboration.
"Wait, tonight?" That doesn't make sense and K'aus isn't being really subtle about it. He holds up a finger as if that might deter her from asking more questions right away, but she does anyway so he just deals with it. "Wait, they came tonight? He said he had them on you, like they'd been here longer than that. Fucking sneaky bastard." Where was he? He stops rubbing his finger along his upper lip and gives her a look. He might not want to answer her. "I told you. I was having a meeting." A look at her face tells him that's not good enough. He gestures with his hand. "I was coming here and some meathead grabbed me out of the jungle there. And I woke up in a room, and then they took me to another one, they told me to keep the dragon quiet. They told me what I needed to know and I told them what they needed to know. Did they do anything to you?"
June strives to teach him how questions should be answered, giving him a straightforward and simple, "No," only a tilt of her head after he's asked. And then she explains. "I thought he might for a bit, but I guess he wanted money more. Sleazy shit, threatened me then offered me protection for the tavern. So I'm paying them off now." And all the while, she's moving to the nearest chair, already propped out from the table, and slumping into it. As she finishes her part of the story, she props her elbows up on the edge of that table and drops her forehead into both waiting palms. It's an indulgence of only a moment, she straightens and lifts her gaze to him again, arms dropping to her lap.
While she's sitting, K'aus puts his hand over his mouth and the other on his hip, striking a thoughtful pose there in the middle of the room. He is like this for a while, staring at nothing, rubbing the scruff on his chin and around it, until finally he comes around and focuses on her. And meets her gaze, since she's offering. "They didn't hurt you. And they didn't kill you. Which means you're more inportant to them alive, and they didn't want trouble from the Weyr. They need you. They must need me alive too or I wouldn't be, dragon or not." A pause to collect his thoughts again.
June begins to shake her head in a slow, ponderous way, but she waits until he's finished before voicing her contradiction. Calmly, she says, "Dead women don't make money. That's the only reason I'm important to them, I'm a source of income. I don't know about trouble from the Weyr, maybe that's part of it. But it's definitely more about the marks with this sort." Her gaze has wandered, but she chooses now to return it to him. "That doesn't explain you, though."
"Sure but think about it I mean-- sure, scrape some money off the top of some tavern somewhere, but in the long run how much is that gonna pay off? There's gotta be something bigger there. Maybe it's Ista, I have no fucking idea. The rat would probably know." K'aus is looking at her again now too, both hands on hips, shoulders slumping. All of him is kind of slumping actually. "He wanted a name. I gave him one. He told me where Kozec is gonna be." And then something dawns on him. "And there it is."
June misses the dawning, the slumping, all of it, she's too caught up with what he's saying and drawing down a frown in response to it. "Where he's /gonna/ be?" she asks, that deceptively calm voice slipping over the stressed word. "They told me he'd already been taking care of." Her inward fuming begins to show some outward signs, her nostrils flaring to let out a hot huff as she shifts in her chair.
"Really?" K'aus is genuinely interested, not to mention a little confused, about that. He crosses the room to join her, seating himself with some care in another chair and relaxing his arms atop its. "Why would they lie to you," he wonders aloud, sliding a lazy look over at June. "They'd lie to me to get me out of there. But why, I know who they are. What they look like. They said Fort." He's running his fingertip over his upper lip again. "It would be Fort."
"I don't know," June answers frankly, simply after he wonders at her, though it seems more like she's just too distracted by fuming quietly to think of goon motivations. With an elbow on the chair's arm, she braces her chin and stares at the nearby wall while she listens, which she is doing, she proves when she asks, "Why would it be Fort?"
"The Hall is there." Simply. K'aus perches chin in hand and transfers his attention to the ceiling or as high up as he can get, which means he's staring all out of focus again. "I thought they would've used me because I have the dragon, dragons are useful. But they come with too much baggage, I get that. Still, if Kozec's alive, if they were lying to you and not me, and if he's at Fort, then that's where I should go."
June lets that sink in for the span of a slowly heaved breath, head nodding vaguely but not in a way that says she agrees with him. At least not fully. The reason for that comes in the doubt she voices. "And if they're lying to both of us?"
He takes a breath, lets it out slowly and looks at her. "If they're lying to both of us then we know something. People who aren't in a corner of some kind don't need to keep people alive. They need to lie to those people even less. They should have other hooligan stuff to do." But seriously. "If they're lying to both of us he's alive, he's just not at Fort. I'll find him, June. Dead or not."
"You're just back to square one," June comments pessimistically, though she tosses that aside with the breathy, "It doesn't matter," that follows it. "You go to Fort," she tells him, as if the decision were only waiting on her approval. "They're in a corner, they don't want trouble, then they're not going to let him act up if he is still around here. Meanwhile, I just have to deal with ten percent off the top." A situation that still ruffles her feathers, her tone clearly displeased despite how collected her words may be.
"You deal with ten percent off the top until we can figure out who the fuck these guys are and how to get rid of 'em. How's that sound?" K'aus can't really help it; June is being kind-of amusing. He smirks. Poor thing. "I'll go to Fort with your blessing then. Tomorrow. First thing. And we'll see what we see. And don't worry about those guys, June, really. This is only a temporary, you know, glitch."
He'll excuse June if she doesn't look entirely convinced. She shoots him a single look full of as much doubt as such a short and otherwise serene look can contain, then focuses on the table, head shaking lightly. "We'd have to get rid of all of 'em, every single one. We don't, they spill what they have on me and I risk losing all of it, not just ten percent." Her eyes return to him, her lean looking almost defensive now. Yes, they have something on her, let's just leave it at that.
She's looking defensive, for June; he's looking sympathetic, for K'aus. "So we get rid of every fucking one of them. I find your lack of faith in me disturbing. I think you're forgetting what I have invested here. I told you the story right, I said the words." But there is that little thing there on the table now that she put there just now, that he inspects with all the delicacy and tact he possesses. "What do they have on you?"
His little speech does inspire a bit more confidence, or at least
relaxation as she allows herself a sigh and abandons her slight lean to
let her back meet the chair's again. Her alertness, if not her stiffness,
returns even with all that delicacy and tact he musters and she stares
across at him for a moment. Perhaps because of that delicacy, though, or
the fact that he just reminded her about how much he's shared with her, an
answer actually follows it. "Not much, but what they have could be big.
It's..." But she pauses and breaks onto another track altogether, the
relative hurry of her words the only assurance that she'll eventually get
to the point. "Look, I didn't mean for it to end up this way. I went
through all the proper channels, I talked to the Weyrleader, he knew what
kind of services my girls and I provided when everything was settled. But,
I don't know, it all got lost in the shuffle of the leadership change, I
guess. So they don't know. Not the Weyrleader. None of the goldriders, not
even the youngest one, as far as I know. Not even the headwoman. And I get
the sense they wouldn't like it, if they knew, maybe enough to pull the
rug out. So I left them in the dark." She turns her head aside slightly,
not happy about the things that necessity drove her to, but there they
are. "And now it's coming back to bite me."
While she shares he listens, his eyes solemnly attentive and speaking for
the rest of him. There's a change in his expression whens he mentions
'services', but it's like a rubber band resuming its shape before its
stretched and he's back to staring blandly. When she's done he takes
another breath, a reminder for himself maybe that he's still in the chair
staring at her. "So nobody knows people buy sex here. And maybe that is a
problem, but I think if you wait long enough, let the interval set in,
these jokers might start singing a different tune. Especially if suddenly
the Seven is the top profit gainer for the Weyr."
June twists up a small smile when he outlines a top gainer future for her
tavern. "That's what I'm hoping for," she tells him. "I pay them until I'm
in a position where their information doesn't mean as much." And then her
hand swings toward him in a brief gestures. "Or until something happens to
take these guys out. I'll take either." And her smile, on the verge of
fading, perks at the edges again.
For being included, for being her 'something happens', K'aus gives her a
small smile. It's strange how unruffled he is after being knocked out,
taken, questioned, knocked out again, dropped. But maybe he's freaking out
in other ways. "I just want you to know you shouldn't worry, no matter
what happens. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you or the girls."
His eyebrows lift, this part is important. "You believe me." It's hard to
tell if that's a command or a question or a simple stating of something he
believes to be true.
June takes it as a question and answers it as such. After a thoughtful
pause. "I believe you'll do everything you can to make sure things are
alright," she says, giving it a confirming tone even though she follows it
with, "I just worry about the things that aren't in your control." Her
smile flattens wryly.
"Well then." As if this is some great deflation of her trust in him, of
his ego. "That's very honest. But June." K'aus is sure to have her eye,
and he doesn't return her flat smile, doesn't smile at all this time, not
for this. Quietly, "It's gonna be okay."
June meets his seeking gaze and holds the eye contact steady while he
speaks. Hardly a beat passes after his last word before she offers him a
conclusive, "Okay," as if she's making a deal. A deal to let him handle
things. Except that deal's already been made, so it can't be.
It can't be, but he takes it as maybe a reaffirmation. He takes it as
/something/, doesn't reiterate or bring it up again, and in fact becomes
an entirely different person. Or rather he stays the same person but
pretends. "You can go if you want." He's reaching down to the floor for
something, a book when he succeeds in finding it, which he opens. "I know
you have a lot of cleaning and sexing to do."
There's a flicker of a squint at the corner of her eyes, but June stands
with his permission anyway, taking time to shake out her skirts. "Not so
much sexing, this time of night," she notes, voice mildly joking, while
she settles her hem, "just the cleaning." She doesn't leave just yet, but
hangs at the tableside to ask, "Do you need anything? Ice, or... a whole
lot of alcohol?" She's eyeing the cut on his lip as she shrugs gently,
then her eyes lift again along with her shallow smile.
"That might take longer." Cleaning. Over sexing. Of course. By now he's
got his nose in that book, at least as far as the metaphor goes. He's
actually holding it a good distance away and it might be because he isn't
actually reading but it makes for a nice prop, or it could be because he's
an old man who can't read without his glasses. Either way. When June makes
that offer he replies very simply, "No." And furrows his brow.
Everything is taken as normal, until that furrowed brow appears. Noticing
it, June gently lofts her brows and drops her head into a slight tilt. A
second later, she drops a single, slanted nod from that angle and turns to
the door without another word, letting him have some quality time with
that book he isn't reading.
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.
The tavern's business never really picked up tonight, an unfortunate turn of events for the tavern owner who just signed away ten percent of her profits to a couple of blackmailers. Those who remain at the bar can all be called lingerers at this point, and there are very few; just those three loners at the bar, each one lost in his own thoughts, a table of quietly conversing friends and a pair just picking up to leave remain. Maybe because of this, the staff seem sparser, too. Only June and Ruesse are immediately visible, the latter tending the bar while the former is cleaning up. June's gathered a large part of the dishes and bottles from the table she's at now, but she hovers over the last mug, squinting at a sizeable crack running down the side with a drawn, displeased set to her mouth.
In comes K'aus. There's no dramatic opening of doors or stopping in the arch to strike a pose. He just shows up, looking really disheveled and a little bit dirty and sporting a cut on his lower lip. He does stop just inside, not to pose but to look carefully for a certain redhead. She's easier to find than usual here in this lack of a crowd, he does find her. Quick, long strides take him to her; he stops, his black eyes intent on her face, on her physical wellbeing, as if he could take note of that from out here on this side of her clothes, and then his dirty hands take the mug away from her, then the rest of the dishes, and then her hands. He wants to tow her away to the stairs, up them, into a room, it doesn't matter.
His fluster transfers to June, her eyes widening as soon as she notices him and the state he's in. The mug is surrendered with only half a glance, she's too busy processing his sudden appearance, that split on his lip. "What's ..." she begins, and he begins his tow, throwing off her train of thought as her feet follow by default. "Are you okay?" She finally gets out a full, worried thought, only to be interrupted by Ruesse, prompting simply, "June?" June waves the concern away with a snippet of a frown, then turns that same expression on him as he pulls her to the base of the stairs.
Not only to the base but up, also. Up the stairs, slowly so she doesn't trip in her lady shoes, to the doors. To the one door. There's a sudden small moment of panic when he reaches it, his room; he drops her hands but gives her a look like 'stay' and rummages in his pockets, both at once. The relief in him is so obvious when he pulls the key out as if he's very happy to see it didn't get perhaps taken from him. Once he has the door unlocked he opens it and ushers her through, giving the area one more paranoid glance before following. Ruesse will have to hold down the fort on her own or with another sister, this one's been commandeered. Inside, once the door is closed, K'aus turns to her and without delay pulls her to him so that he can put his mouth to her shoulder; his hands find her hip and the side of her face, respectively.
June stays. Her look is searching, utterly questioning as she watches him fumble, but she stays and she's quiet all the way into the room, all the way to being pressed against him. Almost instinctively, her own hand conforms to a curve of his back, comforting and firm. He gets a handful of seconds only, before she speaks again, her tone reminding but gently so. "K'aus." She needs nothing more, he should know no matter the situation. For one, he still has a question he hasn't addressed, and she doesn't like her unanswered questions to remain so for very long. Also, if this is meant to be another of his more routine visits, there needs to be marks exchanged before things progress much further.
His name is all it takes to bring him back down. Oh right. Over her shoulder his eyes wander and his hand moves to cradle the back of her head, his index finger wiggling in her hair but not enough to disrupt it. After a moment he can pull away and he does, releasing her and taking a step back to disentangle them both from each other. K'aus looks down at his hands, notices them, then at her, squinting as if to check on if he left marks on her or not. While doing so he starts to speak, sounding a little distracted. "You didn't tell me about your new friends."
June stands her ground and lets him retreat, arms crossing idly while he gathers himself again. With her expression relaxed as it is, he may find traces of her weariness; it's been a long night for her, too, apparently. Her reply will lapse a bit, but it comes a few puzzled blinks later. "I don't know who you're talking about," she admits, shaking her head as if that could reinforce her claim.
"No?" K'aus briefly tongues the cut on his lip, wincing all the while. "Huh. No? Really?" His head tilts to one side and his expression is one as if in deep thought. "That's interesting June, and not in like the wow, interesting facts kind of way but in like the huh, that's interesting because I just got done in a meeting with some really nice men in an anonymous room-- they were also anonymous-- and one of /them/ told me that they put some guys in here." He's meeting her eyes again when he adds, "Like that kind of interesting."
June doesn't like the way he's talking to her. Or maybe she doesn't like what he's saying. Either way, her brows knot faintly to show that dislike. It takes her a moment more after he finishes speaking to come to a realization, the delay spent on a few more helpless head shakes. But suddenly, she wonders, "Are you talking about those bastards from tonight?" And her frown only deepens. "Well, I might have told you before, but seeing as this is the first time I've seen you since..." Dry and pointed though it is, she rushes right on through it; it's not the most important point right now. "What happened to you?" she demands elaboration.
"Wait, tonight?" That doesn't make sense and K'aus isn't being really subtle about it. He holds up a finger as if that might deter her from asking more questions right away, but she does anyway so he just deals with it. "Wait, they came tonight? He said he had them on you, like they'd been here longer than that. Fucking sneaky bastard." Where was he? He stops rubbing his finger along his upper lip and gives her a look. He might not want to answer her. "I told you. I was having a meeting." A look at her face tells him that's not good enough. He gestures with his hand. "I was coming here and some meathead grabbed me out of the jungle there. And I woke up in a room, and then they took me to another one, they told me to keep the dragon quiet. They told me what I needed to know and I told them what they needed to know. Did they do anything to you?"
June strives to teach him how questions should be answered, giving him a straightforward and simple, "No," only a tilt of her head after he's asked. And then she explains. "I thought he might for a bit, but I guess he wanted money more. Sleazy shit, threatened me then offered me protection for the tavern. So I'm paying them off now." And all the while, she's moving to the nearest chair, already propped out from the table, and slumping into it. As she finishes her part of the story, she props her elbows up on the edge of that table and drops her forehead into both waiting palms. It's an indulgence of only a moment, she straightens and lifts her gaze to him again, arms dropping to her lap.
While she's sitting, K'aus puts his hand over his mouth and the other on his hip, striking a thoughtful pose there in the middle of the room. He is like this for a while, staring at nothing, rubbing the scruff on his chin and around it, until finally he comes around and focuses on her. And meets her gaze, since she's offering. "They didn't hurt you. And they didn't kill you. Which means you're more inportant to them alive, and they didn't want trouble from the Weyr. They need you. They must need me alive too or I wouldn't be, dragon or not." A pause to collect his thoughts again.
June begins to shake her head in a slow, ponderous way, but she waits until he's finished before voicing her contradiction. Calmly, she says, "Dead women don't make money. That's the only reason I'm important to them, I'm a source of income. I don't know about trouble from the Weyr, maybe that's part of it. But it's definitely more about the marks with this sort." Her gaze has wandered, but she chooses now to return it to him. "That doesn't explain you, though."
"Sure but think about it I mean-- sure, scrape some money off the top of some tavern somewhere, but in the long run how much is that gonna pay off? There's gotta be something bigger there. Maybe it's Ista, I have no fucking idea. The rat would probably know." K'aus is looking at her again now too, both hands on hips, shoulders slumping. All of him is kind of slumping actually. "He wanted a name. I gave him one. He told me where Kozec is gonna be." And then something dawns on him. "And there it is."
June misses the dawning, the slumping, all of it, she's too caught up with what he's saying and drawing down a frown in response to it. "Where he's /gonna/ be?" she asks, that deceptively calm voice slipping over the stressed word. "They told me he'd already been taking care of." Her inward fuming begins to show some outward signs, her nostrils flaring to let out a hot huff as she shifts in her chair.
"Really?" K'aus is genuinely interested, not to mention a little confused, about that. He crosses the room to join her, seating himself with some care in another chair and relaxing his arms atop its. "Why would they lie to you," he wonders aloud, sliding a lazy look over at June. "They'd lie to me to get me out of there. But why, I know who they are. What they look like. They said Fort." He's running his fingertip over his upper lip again. "It would be Fort."
"I don't know," June answers frankly, simply after he wonders at her, though it seems more like she's just too distracted by fuming quietly to think of goon motivations. With an elbow on the chair's arm, she braces her chin and stares at the nearby wall while she listens, which she is doing, she proves when she asks, "Why would it be Fort?"
"The Hall is there." Simply. K'aus perches chin in hand and transfers his attention to the ceiling or as high up as he can get, which means he's staring all out of focus again. "I thought they would've used me because I have the dragon, dragons are useful. But they come with too much baggage, I get that. Still, if Kozec's alive, if they were lying to you and not me, and if he's at Fort, then that's where I should go."
June lets that sink in for the span of a slowly heaved breath, head nodding vaguely but not in a way that says she agrees with him. At least not fully. The reason for that comes in the doubt she voices. "And if they're lying to both of us?"
He takes a breath, lets it out slowly and looks at her. "If they're lying to both of us then we know something. People who aren't in a corner of some kind don't need to keep people alive. They need to lie to those people even less. They should have other hooligan stuff to do." But seriously. "If they're lying to both of us he's alive, he's just not at Fort. I'll find him, June. Dead or not."
"You're just back to square one," June comments pessimistically, though she tosses that aside with the breathy, "It doesn't matter," that follows it. "You go to Fort," she tells him, as if the decision were only waiting on her approval. "They're in a corner, they don't want trouble, then they're not going to let him act up if he is still around here. Meanwhile, I just have to deal with ten percent off the top." A situation that still ruffles her feathers, her tone clearly displeased despite how collected her words may be.
"You deal with ten percent off the top until we can figure out who the fuck these guys are and how to get rid of 'em. How's that sound?" K'aus can't really help it; June is being kind-of amusing. He smirks. Poor thing. "I'll go to Fort with your blessing then. Tomorrow. First thing. And we'll see what we see. And don't worry about those guys, June, really. This is only a temporary, you know, glitch."
He'll excuse June if she doesn't look entirely convinced. She shoots him a single look full of as much doubt as such a short and otherwise serene look can contain, then focuses on the table, head shaking lightly. "We'd have to get rid of all of 'em, every single one. We don't, they spill what they have on me and I risk losing all of it, not just ten percent." Her eyes return to him, her lean looking almost defensive now. Yes, they have something on her, let's just leave it at that.
She's looking defensive, for June; he's looking sympathetic, for K'aus. "So we get rid of every fucking one of them. I find your lack of faith in me disturbing. I think you're forgetting what I have invested here. I told you the story right, I said the words." But there is that little thing there on the table now that she put there just now, that he inspects with all the delicacy and tact he possesses. "What do they have on you?"
His little speech does inspire a bit more confidence, or at least
relaxation as she allows herself a sigh and abandons her slight lean to
let her back meet the chair's again. Her alertness, if not her stiffness,
returns even with all that delicacy and tact he musters and she stares
across at him for a moment. Perhaps because of that delicacy, though, or
the fact that he just reminded her about how much he's shared with her, an
answer actually follows it. "Not much, but what they have could be big.
It's..." But she pauses and breaks onto another track altogether, the
relative hurry of her words the only assurance that she'll eventually get
to the point. "Look, I didn't mean for it to end up this way. I went
through all the proper channels, I talked to the Weyrleader, he knew what
kind of services my girls and I provided when everything was settled. But,
I don't know, it all got lost in the shuffle of the leadership change, I
guess. So they don't know. Not the Weyrleader. None of the goldriders, not
even the youngest one, as far as I know. Not even the headwoman. And I get
the sense they wouldn't like it, if they knew, maybe enough to pull the
rug out. So I left them in the dark." She turns her head aside slightly,
not happy about the things that necessity drove her to, but there they
are. "And now it's coming back to bite me."
While she shares he listens, his eyes solemnly attentive and speaking for
the rest of him. There's a change in his expression whens he mentions
'services', but it's like a rubber band resuming its shape before its
stretched and he's back to staring blandly. When she's done he takes
another breath, a reminder for himself maybe that he's still in the chair
staring at her. "So nobody knows people buy sex here. And maybe that is a
problem, but I think if you wait long enough, let the interval set in,
these jokers might start singing a different tune. Especially if suddenly
the Seven is the top profit gainer for the Weyr."
June twists up a small smile when he outlines a top gainer future for her
tavern. "That's what I'm hoping for," she tells him. "I pay them until I'm
in a position where their information doesn't mean as much." And then her
hand swings toward him in a brief gestures. "Or until something happens to
take these guys out. I'll take either." And her smile, on the verge of
fading, perks at the edges again.
For being included, for being her 'something happens', K'aus gives her a
small smile. It's strange how unruffled he is after being knocked out,
taken, questioned, knocked out again, dropped. But maybe he's freaking out
in other ways. "I just want you to know you shouldn't worry, no matter
what happens. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you or the girls."
His eyebrows lift, this part is important. "You believe me." It's hard to
tell if that's a command or a question or a simple stating of something he
believes to be true.
June takes it as a question and answers it as such. After a thoughtful
pause. "I believe you'll do everything you can to make sure things are
alright," she says, giving it a confirming tone even though she follows it
with, "I just worry about the things that aren't in your control." Her
smile flattens wryly.
"Well then." As if this is some great deflation of her trust in him, of
his ego. "That's very honest. But June." K'aus is sure to have her eye,
and he doesn't return her flat smile, doesn't smile at all this time, not
for this. Quietly, "It's gonna be okay."
June meets his seeking gaze and holds the eye contact steady while he
speaks. Hardly a beat passes after his last word before she offers him a
conclusive, "Okay," as if she's making a deal. A deal to let him handle
things. Except that deal's already been made, so it can't be.
It can't be, but he takes it as maybe a reaffirmation. He takes it as
/something/, doesn't reiterate or bring it up again, and in fact becomes
an entirely different person. Or rather he stays the same person but
pretends. "You can go if you want." He's reaching down to the floor for
something, a book when he succeeds in finding it, which he opens. "I know
you have a lot of cleaning and sexing to do."
There's a flicker of a squint at the corner of her eyes, but June stands
with his permission anyway, taking time to shake out her skirts. "Not so
much sexing, this time of night," she notes, voice mildly joking, while
she settles her hem, "just the cleaning." She doesn't leave just yet, but
hangs at the tableside to ask, "Do you need anything? Ice, or... a whole
lot of alcohol?" She's eyeing the cut on his lip as she shrugs gently,
then her eyes lift again along with her shallow smile.
"That might take longer." Cleaning. Over sexing. Of course. By now he's
got his nose in that book, at least as far as the metaphor goes. He's
actually holding it a good distance away and it might be because he isn't
actually reading but it makes for a nice prop, or it could be because he's
an old man who can't read without his glasses. Either way. When June makes
that offer he replies very simply, "No." And furrows his brow.
Everything is taken as normal, until that furrowed brow appears. Noticing
it, June gently lofts her brows and drops her head into a slight tilt. A
second later, she drops a single, slanted nod from that angle and turns to
the door without another word, letting him have some quality time with
that book he isn't reading.