Mentoring E'dre: Imparting alcohol rather than wisdom.
RL Date: 3/30/08
IC Date: 11/1/15
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Wyaeth> Wroth senses that Wyaeth, abrupt! << Tell E'dre to come here. >> Where *here* is the flash of a fuzzy image, not-in-focus, the way the Snowasis would look if a person had just gotten dust blown in their eyes.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Wroth answers in the blast of sound, the roaring of thunder distant but still audible. << Oy! I will tell him to go, but he will try and be slow at it. >>
E'dre wanders up from a set of stairs from the lower caverns.
E'dre has arrived.
The boys' club. In the middle of the afternoon on the first day of pure autumn, a half-dozen men are clustered in the Snowasis, scattered round a table where they hunker below their cards. The sound of belly-laughter fills the otherwise empty space along with the wooden clink of marks rubbed together, great gulps of beer, and the general unseemliness which men indulge outside the presence of the fairer sex. In the midst of it, N'thei has just thrown back a hearty laugh and tossed his cards on to the table, said something about sitting out a bit, and angled so he can keep a clearer eye on the entrance.
From the time of the summons, E'dre has indeed made a few delays on his way to the Snowasis. He seems to be freshly groomed, shirt pressed and short-cropped hair still damp from a quick bath. His shoulders are slouched and he looks like a man walking into an argument rather than the party environment that is present. His eyes light up though at the lack of women and he looks to N'thei with a twitched smile as he approaches and a salute is given if a little flippantly. "You beckoned me here, sir?"
N'thei's attention lights on the younger man straight off on entering, though the next hand has already begun in earnest by the time E'dre deigns to arrive. Still, a sweeping glance reveals the weyrling's cleanliness and the man's smile drags into place. "I did, I did. E'dre, the lads; lads, this is my mentee." Two of them, particularly grizzled F'rint, mumble consolations toward the weyrling while N'thei vacates his chair, snagging his jacket while he stands. "Let's have a seat at the bar, eh?" He hitches his hand, indicates to follow along.
E'dre nods his head by way of greeting to those gathered around the card table. He leans a little close, trying to catch a few glances at the cards but those are held fast in secret. He moves where he's beckoned and once at the bar his eyes light onto the alcohol stored behind. Longing, almost, in his gaze before he turns his attention to his mentor. "I hope I didn't interrupt a good game of dragon poker?" he queries though that is dispelled just as soon as it's out, "Wroth didn't mention why you wanted to see me."
"No such thing as a good game 'round the boss, boy!" Called from the table, sends up another round of half-drunk laughter, even twitches the edges of N'thei's mouth while he answers the accusation with a shrug. "I imagine that's because I didn't tell Wyaeth to tell Wroth why I wanted to see you, but it might be obvious." At the bar, he orders whiskey doubles, two please, then gestures a hand toward an empty stool for E'dre. "The idea is for me to impart wisdom. I figure it's better just to impart alcohol."
"Impart wisdom," E'dre echos, nodding his head slowly. "Understood." At the order of two whiskey doubles, the weyrling's brows lift in surprise. The stool is taken and the shorter man turns his body to best face the bronzerider. An arm is casually rested on the bar as his fingers tap along the bartop. "Impart alcohol. Truly, am I allowed it? I feel it's been ages since I've wetted that appetite."
N'thei drums his fingers in a spill on the edge of the bar, splashes it a bit before he reaches across the bar for a towel, swipes away the mess. "Probably not, but just tell them the weyrleader made you drink it. Then I'll be the one in trouble, neh?" He flashes E'dre an over-bright smile before his eyes pin to the two glasses filling up in front of them. One picked up, one slid toward the weyrling; "Here's to a long life and a merry one. A quick death and an easy one. A pretty girl and an honest one. A cold beer... and another one."
E'dre takes the one that's pushed his way and lifts it by way of toast and then downs the liquid in unison. He can't hide the slight grimace that follows with the burn of the whiskey and then he grins, the first indication of him relaxing now as his shoulders loosen from their rod-like posture. "Ah, well. How lucky of me to claim the Weyrleader himself as my mentor. I sense that I can ask all sorts of devious questions of you and have them answered in the most inappropriate ways." The small glass is set back on the bar and slid towards the barkeep.
N'thei avoids the grimace, but his eyes twinge and he has to blow out a long breath to chase the flavor of the drink across his tongue. "I wish I could say it's true, lucky you, but it's not. I don't have much useful to say about being a rider except 'duck.'" He laughs shortly, slides his glass the same way as E'dre, a nod to the pair of them. "But I have a gift for you, so maybe it's not all misfortune."
"Duck is good advice, I'd have to agree. Jaeni just about knocked me in the head with a sack the other day, had to dive for the ground and bruise my knees along with my dignity." He blinks at the mention of a gift and once more surprise takes hold of his expression. "A gift, sir? Now, that seems entirely unnecessary." He fidgets in the chair, fingers tap-tap-tapping in more of a beat on the table.
Refilled, N'thei's drink sits unmolested for now. The man instead tosses his coat over the next empty stool, delves into a pocket at the same time. "Just hope bruised dignity's the worst of your woes by the end, neh?" Unnecessary or not, he pulls out a spanking new silver flask and palms it on to the bar in front of E'dre, all glint and polish and a little splash to promise it's packed. "A pair of them, for you and L'vae both. Just keep it stashed till graduation."
E'dre stops his tapping to reach for the flask and lift it closer for inspection. A low whistle of appreciation is given as he turns it this way and that, admiring the glint of it. He goes so far as to unscrew it and sniff the liquid within. "Shells, this is a nice gift." He pockets it quickly enough into his inner pocket of the jacket that's been tossed on his frame since fall started to settle in. "Thank you for the thought." He looks up at N'thei and grins, albeit crookedly. "Now to important questions, pestering you with my woes, and wailings, yeah? At least, that's how some of the others are utilizing their mentors."
N'thei, laughing; "Actually, it's an entirely inappropriate one, but it's the only thing I could think a young man could surely use." He slides his glass back over, this time just a sip rather than knocking it all down in one gulp. "You can tell me your woes if you want, that the sort of thing that will make you feel better?" The look, the tone, the dubious ridicule; oh, how he hopes it's not the sort of thing to make E'dre feel better.
E'dre snorts, leaning back with a lifted brow. "I know I've not been having the easiest time adjusting with Wroth, but I certainly am /not/ the whining type. It never fixes anything, anyway." That is all dismissed with a brief wave of the hand. "I don't know what to do with a mentor, honestly. Aside from kick back, it seems," he grins, almost devious in demeanor now. "and drink to good health and such." Curiously, he tilts his head slightly. "Do you have any burning questions for me, sir?"
Musing-- "I think maybe some people need them, you know. Some weyrlings just need someone to look up to, someone to give them direction, make them feel special and looked-after. And some weyrlings?" N'thei takes another little sip, looks sidelong at E'dre with his grin and his drink. "Some weyrlings don't. --Burning questions. Let's see." Thinks thinks thinks. "No. Just the easy ones. Age? Previous occupation? Love life? How's Wroth?" Blah de blah.
E'dre reaches out for his empty glass and twirls it on the table, watching the remaining drops of liquid drip down and pool. Temptation seems to be there as he considers lifting it for a lick but he dismisses it with an amused look back at N'thei. "Easy ones? Age, hm. Count about 20 odd turns. Previous occupation, lazed candidate and prior to that undignified tailor." Shrug and then a laugh at the mention of love life. "This stays between us two, yeah? I tried to court Ms. Milani, but she has higher aspirations than a brownrider." He's grinning, eyes sparkling with mischief and then a frown pushes forward. "Wroth's loud, demanding, and unsightly but I guess I sort of have a fondness for him."
"Damnedest thing, isn't it. Wyaeth's like that. If I met a man just like him, I'd wind up punching out his lights." But even N'thei has to speak of his dragon with love, with the softest edge capable for his voice. "Milani." There goes that soft edge, in comes derision. "Had eyes for A'son since-- shells, we must have been barely more than weyrlings. Before you graduate, I'll run you down to Boll and introduce you to girls that will make you forget all about certain high-aspiring teenagers." A promise sealed on an empty glass.
E'dre chuckles, "You got it about right there. If he wasn't always inside my head, worming his way into my affections, I'd avoid him like the plague. No manners. Loud as can be. Acts like a drunken idiot sometimes," he shrugs, grinning good-naturedly and his own fondness for the brash brown is there in full. The mention of Boll draws a shake of the head. "No, no. I grew up mostly in Boll and I've had my fill of those looser types." He clucks his tongue and looks ceiling-wards. "I still can't understand her desire for the man. He seems nice enough, right? But not exactly something to trip over."
N'thei scrapes his thumbnail across his lower lip, a thoughtful overcast to his eyes while he contemplates E'dre, clearly troubling over just how frank to be. Then; "People like A'son, just the way it is. He's good, honest, tries to do the right thing. In a place like the Reaches? Guess it's not all that hard to see why a girl would ken to that." He shrugs, helpless in the light of someone else's moral upstanding. "If easy girls aren't to your liking, then I'm not of much further use. I recommend you get laid before you fight thread. Just In Case." Capital Letter Tone.
E'dre shakes his head, hand lifting. "Now! That's not to say I'm not all for exploring /other/ looser women. Might swing up Bitra way, see what those women are like, yeah? Good game of cards, some dice, lots of drinking. Should be amusing at the very least." The mention of A'son and the bluntness of it draws a slight eyeroll from the weyrling. "I noticed that was her affinity. Not to my liking. Too much upstanding citizen stuff for my tastes." Not that he's all that roguish, but his behavior has gotten him reprimanded in the past. "And the first thing I'll do once the restriction is lifted /is/ get laid, I thank you." He tips the glass over and then rights it with a chuckle, "One can't die without /some/ good, hm?"
N'thei waves his hand imperiously at the mention of Pern's most infamous Hold. "Don't go to Bitra. Even if you manage not to freeze your ass off or get robbed blind, you'll likely wind up with a burns-when-you-pee rash." So says the voice of experience. "World needs people in white hats sometimes, just a shame that girls like them so much. Still, you'll have a rider's knot soon. That's all you need for a holder girl to show you a good time." The tipped glass and E'dre's words combine to remind the bronzerider that drinks are lacking; two fingers beckon the barkeep, fill-'em-up. "So you can be honest if anyone asks and say we didn't /just/ drink and talk about girls-- what's your ambitions as a rider?"
E'dre coughs into his hand, brows shooting up and up at the mention of the less desirable qualities to be found in Bitra. He shakes his head on the mention of the more upstanding citizens of Pern. "Eh, let'm have them - or not have them - or whatever it is women /really/ want." He seems pleased by his prospects now that he will be 'rider' someday. The newly acquired liquor is brought up off the bar and sipped slowly. "Hm. I have none. Wroth has many." He shrugs, "I don't rightly know? Seems like that's not something to worry about now. Surviving would be great." Cheerfully he toasts to that and downs the drink. Another grimace and then he shakes his head. "Shardin' ridiculous that it's been long enough that I'm actually buzzin' off of this stuff."
"It's not that hard really." N'thei says it like this is not only true, but also a sudden surprise to him. "Staying alive. Staying in one piece... now that's tricker, but it goes back to what I said before. Duck." Drinks to that, glass raised, swallow knocked back. "Have a bath before you go back to the barracks then. Don't go in there drunk." There's a lengthy pause while the corner of his mouth trembles on a contained smile. "--Only I'daur's allowed to do that."
Long distance to E'dre: N'thei puts out his pose and also afks a few. :D
E'dre lifts his hand to finger-comb his hair and stops himself short once he realizes there's not much /there/ to be fussed with. Hand drops down onto the table top with a loud slap and her grumbles. "Don't remind me about I'daur and his drinking. Man just about lobbed off an ear between giving me this shorn mess." He hmphs and swivels in his chair idly before lifting his hand to his mouth for a 'breath-test'. "Don't think I smell like much of alcohol." He looks momentarily serious, a thought (perhaps inspired by Wroth) taking charge and changing the subject, "What sort of ambitions should I try and attain, y'think?"
N'thei buzzes his hand across the top of his own head, a cut not so different from E'dre's though he wears it comfortably. "I'daur's sobriety may be questionable, but I'd trust the man further than most here." Despite the narrowness of the words, his voice speaks high praise for the weyrlingmaster. "Depends on what sort of thing you care to do with yourself. Short of my knot or a goldrider's, you could have just about any position. If you care to." He slants a doubtful look at that.
The doubt is well placed because E'dre opts not to elaborate further once the question is out. "Good on Wroth for being a brown and stumpy at that," he quips, grin roguish. "We can attain absolutely nothing in peace." He tap-taps on the wood and looks towards the poker game and the rowdiness that seems to continue over yonder. "Huh. Care for a game of pairs?" he queries, looking back to N'thei.
"It's been my observation." N'thei begins it importantly, allows his smirk to spread slowly under the influence of self-importance. "That those who want it least get it first." So saying, he flicks his palm across the knot on his riding jacket, then slides the article across his shoulders, on to his arms. "There's only one game worth playing, lad, and pairs isn't it. F'rint will let you sit in my place if you promise to lose though." He indicates the game still going on behind them, clear now that he'll make his departure soon.
E'dre twists his lips in thought, considering the statement on attaining things that may not be desired. "I hope to hell that's not how it'll go with me, sir." Ruefully said, though the glint in his eye might not go with the tone. He looks back towards the group gathered and shakes his head, hopping off of the stool and stretching his arms upwards with a bone-cracking pop sounding from his back. "No, I'd best not join to lose. Wouldn't be good for the image, right?"
N'thei smacks his lips at a look of the ongoing game, then tosses a few part-marks on to the bar for the attentive barkeep's benefit. "Image. Lot to learn yet, kid." He says it smiling, then touches his two fingers to his forehead like a salute before he's off, only paused long enough to shake hands round the table on his way out.
IC Date: 11/1/15
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Wyaeth> Wroth senses that Wyaeth, abrupt! << Tell E'dre to come here. >> Where *here* is the flash of a fuzzy image, not-in-focus, the way the Snowasis would look if a person had just gotten dust blown in their eyes.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Wroth answers in the blast of sound, the roaring of thunder distant but still audible. << Oy! I will tell him to go, but he will try and be slow at it. >>
E'dre wanders up from a set of stairs from the lower caverns.
E'dre has arrived.
The boys' club. In the middle of the afternoon on the first day of pure autumn, a half-dozen men are clustered in the Snowasis, scattered round a table where they hunker below their cards. The sound of belly-laughter fills the otherwise empty space along with the wooden clink of marks rubbed together, great gulps of beer, and the general unseemliness which men indulge outside the presence of the fairer sex. In the midst of it, N'thei has just thrown back a hearty laugh and tossed his cards on to the table, said something about sitting out a bit, and angled so he can keep a clearer eye on the entrance.
From the time of the summons, E'dre has indeed made a few delays on his way to the Snowasis. He seems to be freshly groomed, shirt pressed and short-cropped hair still damp from a quick bath. His shoulders are slouched and he looks like a man walking into an argument rather than the party environment that is present. His eyes light up though at the lack of women and he looks to N'thei with a twitched smile as he approaches and a salute is given if a little flippantly. "You beckoned me here, sir?"
N'thei's attention lights on the younger man straight off on entering, though the next hand has already begun in earnest by the time E'dre deigns to arrive. Still, a sweeping glance reveals the weyrling's cleanliness and the man's smile drags into place. "I did, I did. E'dre, the lads; lads, this is my mentee." Two of them, particularly grizzled F'rint, mumble consolations toward the weyrling while N'thei vacates his chair, snagging his jacket while he stands. "Let's have a seat at the bar, eh?" He hitches his hand, indicates to follow along.
E'dre nods his head by way of greeting to those gathered around the card table. He leans a little close, trying to catch a few glances at the cards but those are held fast in secret. He moves where he's beckoned and once at the bar his eyes light onto the alcohol stored behind. Longing, almost, in his gaze before he turns his attention to his mentor. "I hope I didn't interrupt a good game of dragon poker?" he queries though that is dispelled just as soon as it's out, "Wroth didn't mention why you wanted to see me."
"No such thing as a good game 'round the boss, boy!" Called from the table, sends up another round of half-drunk laughter, even twitches the edges of N'thei's mouth while he answers the accusation with a shrug. "I imagine that's because I didn't tell Wyaeth to tell Wroth why I wanted to see you, but it might be obvious." At the bar, he orders whiskey doubles, two please, then gestures a hand toward an empty stool for E'dre. "The idea is for me to impart wisdom. I figure it's better just to impart alcohol."
"Impart wisdom," E'dre echos, nodding his head slowly. "Understood." At the order of two whiskey doubles, the weyrling's brows lift in surprise. The stool is taken and the shorter man turns his body to best face the bronzerider. An arm is casually rested on the bar as his fingers tap along the bartop. "Impart alcohol. Truly, am I allowed it? I feel it's been ages since I've wetted that appetite."
N'thei drums his fingers in a spill on the edge of the bar, splashes it a bit before he reaches across the bar for a towel, swipes away the mess. "Probably not, but just tell them the weyrleader made you drink it. Then I'll be the one in trouble, neh?" He flashes E'dre an over-bright smile before his eyes pin to the two glasses filling up in front of them. One picked up, one slid toward the weyrling; "Here's to a long life and a merry one. A quick death and an easy one. A pretty girl and an honest one. A cold beer... and another one."
E'dre takes the one that's pushed his way and lifts it by way of toast and then downs the liquid in unison. He can't hide the slight grimace that follows with the burn of the whiskey and then he grins, the first indication of him relaxing now as his shoulders loosen from their rod-like posture. "Ah, well. How lucky of me to claim the Weyrleader himself as my mentor. I sense that I can ask all sorts of devious questions of you and have them answered in the most inappropriate ways." The small glass is set back on the bar and slid towards the barkeep.
N'thei avoids the grimace, but his eyes twinge and he has to blow out a long breath to chase the flavor of the drink across his tongue. "I wish I could say it's true, lucky you, but it's not. I don't have much useful to say about being a rider except 'duck.'" He laughs shortly, slides his glass the same way as E'dre, a nod to the pair of them. "But I have a gift for you, so maybe it's not all misfortune."
"Duck is good advice, I'd have to agree. Jaeni just about knocked me in the head with a sack the other day, had to dive for the ground and bruise my knees along with my dignity." He blinks at the mention of a gift and once more surprise takes hold of his expression. "A gift, sir? Now, that seems entirely unnecessary." He fidgets in the chair, fingers tap-tap-tapping in more of a beat on the table.
Refilled, N'thei's drink sits unmolested for now. The man instead tosses his coat over the next empty stool, delves into a pocket at the same time. "Just hope bruised dignity's the worst of your woes by the end, neh?" Unnecessary or not, he pulls out a spanking new silver flask and palms it on to the bar in front of E'dre, all glint and polish and a little splash to promise it's packed. "A pair of them, for you and L'vae both. Just keep it stashed till graduation."
E'dre stops his tapping to reach for the flask and lift it closer for inspection. A low whistle of appreciation is given as he turns it this way and that, admiring the glint of it. He goes so far as to unscrew it and sniff the liquid within. "Shells, this is a nice gift." He pockets it quickly enough into his inner pocket of the jacket that's been tossed on his frame since fall started to settle in. "Thank you for the thought." He looks up at N'thei and grins, albeit crookedly. "Now to important questions, pestering you with my woes, and wailings, yeah? At least, that's how some of the others are utilizing their mentors."
N'thei, laughing; "Actually, it's an entirely inappropriate one, but it's the only thing I could think a young man could surely use." He slides his glass back over, this time just a sip rather than knocking it all down in one gulp. "You can tell me your woes if you want, that the sort of thing that will make you feel better?" The look, the tone, the dubious ridicule; oh, how he hopes it's not the sort of thing to make E'dre feel better.
E'dre snorts, leaning back with a lifted brow. "I know I've not been having the easiest time adjusting with Wroth, but I certainly am /not/ the whining type. It never fixes anything, anyway." That is all dismissed with a brief wave of the hand. "I don't know what to do with a mentor, honestly. Aside from kick back, it seems," he grins, almost devious in demeanor now. "and drink to good health and such." Curiously, he tilts his head slightly. "Do you have any burning questions for me, sir?"
Musing-- "I think maybe some people need them, you know. Some weyrlings just need someone to look up to, someone to give them direction, make them feel special and looked-after. And some weyrlings?" N'thei takes another little sip, looks sidelong at E'dre with his grin and his drink. "Some weyrlings don't. --Burning questions. Let's see." Thinks thinks thinks. "No. Just the easy ones. Age? Previous occupation? Love life? How's Wroth?" Blah de blah.
E'dre reaches out for his empty glass and twirls it on the table, watching the remaining drops of liquid drip down and pool. Temptation seems to be there as he considers lifting it for a lick but he dismisses it with an amused look back at N'thei. "Easy ones? Age, hm. Count about 20 odd turns. Previous occupation, lazed candidate and prior to that undignified tailor." Shrug and then a laugh at the mention of love life. "This stays between us two, yeah? I tried to court Ms. Milani, but she has higher aspirations than a brownrider." He's grinning, eyes sparkling with mischief and then a frown pushes forward. "Wroth's loud, demanding, and unsightly but I guess I sort of have a fondness for him."
"Damnedest thing, isn't it. Wyaeth's like that. If I met a man just like him, I'd wind up punching out his lights." But even N'thei has to speak of his dragon with love, with the softest edge capable for his voice. "Milani." There goes that soft edge, in comes derision. "Had eyes for A'son since-- shells, we must have been barely more than weyrlings. Before you graduate, I'll run you down to Boll and introduce you to girls that will make you forget all about certain high-aspiring teenagers." A promise sealed on an empty glass.
E'dre chuckles, "You got it about right there. If he wasn't always inside my head, worming his way into my affections, I'd avoid him like the plague. No manners. Loud as can be. Acts like a drunken idiot sometimes," he shrugs, grinning good-naturedly and his own fondness for the brash brown is there in full. The mention of Boll draws a shake of the head. "No, no. I grew up mostly in Boll and I've had my fill of those looser types." He clucks his tongue and looks ceiling-wards. "I still can't understand her desire for the man. He seems nice enough, right? But not exactly something to trip over."
N'thei scrapes his thumbnail across his lower lip, a thoughtful overcast to his eyes while he contemplates E'dre, clearly troubling over just how frank to be. Then; "People like A'son, just the way it is. He's good, honest, tries to do the right thing. In a place like the Reaches? Guess it's not all that hard to see why a girl would ken to that." He shrugs, helpless in the light of someone else's moral upstanding. "If easy girls aren't to your liking, then I'm not of much further use. I recommend you get laid before you fight thread. Just In Case." Capital Letter Tone.
E'dre shakes his head, hand lifting. "Now! That's not to say I'm not all for exploring /other/ looser women. Might swing up Bitra way, see what those women are like, yeah? Good game of cards, some dice, lots of drinking. Should be amusing at the very least." The mention of A'son and the bluntness of it draws a slight eyeroll from the weyrling. "I noticed that was her affinity. Not to my liking. Too much upstanding citizen stuff for my tastes." Not that he's all that roguish, but his behavior has gotten him reprimanded in the past. "And the first thing I'll do once the restriction is lifted /is/ get laid, I thank you." He tips the glass over and then rights it with a chuckle, "One can't die without /some/ good, hm?"
N'thei waves his hand imperiously at the mention of Pern's most infamous Hold. "Don't go to Bitra. Even if you manage not to freeze your ass off or get robbed blind, you'll likely wind up with a burns-when-you-pee rash." So says the voice of experience. "World needs people in white hats sometimes, just a shame that girls like them so much. Still, you'll have a rider's knot soon. That's all you need for a holder girl to show you a good time." The tipped glass and E'dre's words combine to remind the bronzerider that drinks are lacking; two fingers beckon the barkeep, fill-'em-up. "So you can be honest if anyone asks and say we didn't /just/ drink and talk about girls-- what's your ambitions as a rider?"
E'dre coughs into his hand, brows shooting up and up at the mention of the less desirable qualities to be found in Bitra. He shakes his head on the mention of the more upstanding citizens of Pern. "Eh, let'm have them - or not have them - or whatever it is women /really/ want." He seems pleased by his prospects now that he will be 'rider' someday. The newly acquired liquor is brought up off the bar and sipped slowly. "Hm. I have none. Wroth has many." He shrugs, "I don't rightly know? Seems like that's not something to worry about now. Surviving would be great." Cheerfully he toasts to that and downs the drink. Another grimace and then he shakes his head. "Shardin' ridiculous that it's been long enough that I'm actually buzzin' off of this stuff."
"It's not that hard really." N'thei says it like this is not only true, but also a sudden surprise to him. "Staying alive. Staying in one piece... now that's tricker, but it goes back to what I said before. Duck." Drinks to that, glass raised, swallow knocked back. "Have a bath before you go back to the barracks then. Don't go in there drunk." There's a lengthy pause while the corner of his mouth trembles on a contained smile. "--Only I'daur's allowed to do that."
Long distance to E'dre: N'thei puts out his pose and also afks a few. :D
E'dre lifts his hand to finger-comb his hair and stops himself short once he realizes there's not much /there/ to be fussed with. Hand drops down onto the table top with a loud slap and her grumbles. "Don't remind me about I'daur and his drinking. Man just about lobbed off an ear between giving me this shorn mess." He hmphs and swivels in his chair idly before lifting his hand to his mouth for a 'breath-test'. "Don't think I smell like much of alcohol." He looks momentarily serious, a thought (perhaps inspired by Wroth) taking charge and changing the subject, "What sort of ambitions should I try and attain, y'think?"
N'thei buzzes his hand across the top of his own head, a cut not so different from E'dre's though he wears it comfortably. "I'daur's sobriety may be questionable, but I'd trust the man further than most here." Despite the narrowness of the words, his voice speaks high praise for the weyrlingmaster. "Depends on what sort of thing you care to do with yourself. Short of my knot or a goldrider's, you could have just about any position. If you care to." He slants a doubtful look at that.
The doubt is well placed because E'dre opts not to elaborate further once the question is out. "Good on Wroth for being a brown and stumpy at that," he quips, grin roguish. "We can attain absolutely nothing in peace." He tap-taps on the wood and looks towards the poker game and the rowdiness that seems to continue over yonder. "Huh. Care for a game of pairs?" he queries, looking back to N'thei.
"It's been my observation." N'thei begins it importantly, allows his smirk to spread slowly under the influence of self-importance. "That those who want it least get it first." So saying, he flicks his palm across the knot on his riding jacket, then slides the article across his shoulders, on to his arms. "There's only one game worth playing, lad, and pairs isn't it. F'rint will let you sit in my place if you promise to lose though." He indicates the game still going on behind them, clear now that he'll make his departure soon.
E'dre twists his lips in thought, considering the statement on attaining things that may not be desired. "I hope to hell that's not how it'll go with me, sir." Ruefully said, though the glint in his eye might not go with the tone. He looks back towards the group gathered and shakes his head, hopping off of the stool and stretching his arms upwards with a bone-cracking pop sounding from his back. "No, I'd best not join to lose. Wouldn't be good for the image, right?"
N'thei smacks his lips at a look of the ongoing game, then tosses a few part-marks on to the bar for the attentive barkeep's benefit. "Image. Lot to learn yet, kid." He says it smiling, then touches his two fingers to his forehead like a salute before he's off, only paused long enough to shake hands round the table on his way out.