Rimara's got a job.
RL Date: 2/23/09 --I RPed on a week night! :D
IC Date: 1/10/19 --Or thereabouts.
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ)
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their 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 clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
K'del is sitting at the bar, beer in hand, while Rimara stands behind it, helping out, though for a moment she's cleaning down the bar and talking with the young bronzerider. He listens, lounging lazily, to what she has to say, taking an idle sip every so often. As she finishes, he notes, "Don't know if there's permanent work going on in here; guess you could ask around. Otherwise, Milani - she's the Headwoman - could probably find you something. And, truthfully, don't mind Tiriana too much. She's annoying, but..." He shrugs. Could be worse. "Am, yeah. Bronze Cadejoth's. And thank you - for the duties, I mean."
"I'm actually a scribe," Rimara says, filling another order for ale from some other person at the bar. Again, she draws it with some skill, topping it off with just the right amount of foam. That one runs a tab, so she dutifully writes the amount down where-ever she's supposed to. "And a cartographer. Been mapping the roads I've traveled so I can update maps whenever I can." All this is said while she's doing whatever is asked of her by the bartender. "My father was pretty adamant that all of us kids learned proper respect for riders," she explains, pausing in front of K'del. "I'll ask. If not here, maybe there's work in the archives. I've a good hand."
P'ax heads in from the patio ledge.
P'ax has arrived.
N'thei would walk in right when someone's bad-mouthing a goldrider. That's just the way luck rolls around these parts. Pulling off his (admittedly silly-looking) blue knitted cap, wadding it up, shoving it into the pocket of his much-abused coat, he has every intention of letting himself behind the bar on some administrative mission when his ear cocks to the words "Tiriana" and "annoying" in rapid succession. Like this is worthy of fascination, he stops, slides onto the next stool over, leans his elbow on the bar, all with his listening face rapt toward K'del. Not a word, true, but the expression sums it up: Please, tell us how you really feel, boy. That there's some mostly unfamiliar face behind the bar doesn't attract his attention in nearly the same way; with the number of people getting hired-and-fired around here, it's not like he can be expected to know all the help by name.
K'del looks impressed with Rimara's talk of cartography, leaning forward with renewed interest, and the obvious intent to ask further questions. This, however, gets stalled; it's quite difficult to completely fail to notice N'thei, after all, and his head turns, face suddenly - well, not unreadable. Uncertain. "Weyrleader," he says, after an awkward pause. Then, sallying forth, a smile pressed back upon his face. "Rimara, here," he indicates the girl, "is looking for a job. Reckon you need anyone else around here?"
It's not so weird for P'ax to be out late. It's weird to see him in the Snowasis. But he's here, his coat collar pulled up around his chin, his usual gray cap pulled down low over his frowning eyes. These eyes sweep the tavern, and they note several things of interest. His scowl deepens, hands stuffed into the pockets of his plain issue riding jacket when he heads for the bar.
It's difficult not to miss N'thei. Rimara's eyes track to him as he approaches the bar, even as she explains what she does to K'del. Silence falls as he sits, and she watches with some wary curiosity as he focuses on K'del. She has a good memory, and has been told at least once today who owns the bar, and what he looks like. Taking a breath, she asks in a clear, neutral voice, "Whiskey?" This obviously for N'thei, since K'del already has his drink in hand. Afterwards, after K'del tells the Weyrleader she's looking for work, her attention focuses on N'thei until she's told to do something by the bartender, which she does.
N'thei, to K'del's use of title-as-greeting; "Occasionally." He holds a slightly longer look on the young man, eyebrows raised questioningly-- nothing more to say on the subject then? "That depends on who the anyone is," he answers, just now realizing that Rimara-here is not a member of the staff. Or she wasn't the other day when their paths crossed. "Generally prefer them a little more..." He outlines a dramatic hour-glass figure with both hands, blatantly compares it to Rimara's build. "The one that broke the glass?" Asked of Rimara? K'del? With a mute nod in answer to his drink-of-choice. Clever girl!
"Whiskey it is, then, sir," Rimara says, and turns to select a bottle. Someone has at least briefed her on the Weyrleader's preference, or she was observant when she was sitting on the other side of the bar. "With the one who broke the mug," she offers, setting his glass in front of him. "Working off the cost," is added matter-of-factly. As for the blatant comparison, she straightens up and starts wiping down another section of the bar when the "hour-glass-figure" barmaid working with her spills beer when serving a patron.
No, says K'del's face. Nothing more. Or perhaps it's just blank noncomprehension. As the attention drifts towards Rimara, he takes a hasty sip from his mug instead; he seems to think she can handle herself well enough. But: "Reckon someone who can start a conversation, keep someone drinking, works just as well."
Hey, as long as she leans over to clean up the spilled beer and there's a decent eyeful, N'thei's not going to raise much complaint about pretty, incompetent staff. "She's a real chatterbox, I see," he remarks, glass to the edge of his mouth while he continues to survey the hire-ability of the girl in question. Just after the drink goes down; "Of course, your taste is a little suspect." But he doesn't seem bent on holding that against Rimara, instead beckoning her over with an imperious little hitch of his finger. "Let's talk seriously then, girl."
P'ax siddles up to the bar, glances at N'thei and K'del, then Rimara. Thick eyebrows lift as he watches the exchange. And then, quietly, "Hey, K'del." Stormy blue eyes sweep down the length of the bar and back curiously to the girl. Especially when N'thei starts talking to her.
Wringing the bar towel over a basin behind the bar, Rimara spreads it out, then comes back to stand across from the Weyrleader. Her expression is pleasant enough, but plainly says, 'I'm listening.' "Sir," she says, simply, acknowledging him with a respectful nod. She doesn't put on any airs, or try to flirt, or do any of those things barmaids are usually good at. However, she does put both arms on the edge of the bar, and lean expectantly. "What do you want to know about me?" she asks, then nods at the empty glass. "Should I just keep them coming, sir?"
"She talked plenty to me," insits K'del, bypassing the comment about his taste, though his lips tighten sharply. Conveniently, P'ax's arrival gives him something else to concentrate on, though he gives Rimara an encouraging grin before doing so. "Hey, P'ax," he greets, lifting his mug towards the greenrider.
Right when N'thei's talking about the quality of K'del's taste, enter the greenrider. That's good enough reason for the man to smirk into the bottom of his glass before he sets it down before Rimara, shaking his head. Don't keep them coming, he means. "Age? Experience?" Take that as you will. "Comprehension? Tiriana mostly hires people, mostly I fire them. Sure you need work that badly?"
After last night's near miss, Ananta's not the brightest person to show her face in here. But, she enters the doorway and then lingers to one side. Maybe one is invisible until they actually step into the light of the room. Her left hand messes with a pen while her other is being used as a chew toy. Her eyes go straight to the bar, and sure enough she sees Rimara. This time behind the bar. A small debt to be paid. She moves slowly into the light. Still thinking she's invisible, but actually drawing attention by her awkward deliberate movements. Now how to work her way around the men?
"Twenty turns," Rimara replies straight forwardly. "I come from a family of fishermen who liked to drink," is added. "My mother worked in a tavern, so I learned how to draw a proper ale around eight years old. I can read, write and cipher." She straightens up, putting her hands on the edge of the bar and looking N'thei straight in the eye. "I'll give you an honest day's work for a fair wage." As for the last comment, she nods. "I can use the job, and if I can't do it right, then I deserve to be fired." There's an air of confidence about her, but she's not cocky. No, if reading eyes can tell something about a person, Rimar's seem to be exuding honesty.
P'ax hasn't got a clue why N'thei's smirking about him. Not that he'd notice. "Can I?" he asks politely, nodding to the bar beside his clutchmate. "What's going on?" The question is asked in a low tone, his eyes openly curious as he takes in this unlikely interview between the woman behind the bar and their Weyrleader.
K'del keeps half his attention on the interview, in between sips and listening to P'ax, and yes, his chin rises just slightly as N'thei smirks into his drink, gaze boring into the bar in front of him for several seconds before he can give P'ax a more genial smile. Ananta goes unnoticed, for the moment. "Feel free," he tells P'ax, warmly. "N'thei's interviewing Rimara - she's new - for a job, here in the bar, that's all. She seems nice enough." His voice is kept low, but it's not exactly as though it's not entirely audible to everyone else, nonetheless, given the limited space between them. "How're you?"
N'thei repeats dubiously, "Twenty." Hard to say if that's to imply she's too old or too young; the pretty girl can't be more than seventeen or eighteen, but the rest of the staff seems to land more on the safe side of the jailbait mark. "Honest and fair. Well, love, if you really want it, job's yours. Not much pay in it, but tips are decent if you're good at it." Or chesty enough. The lowering of the man's glance is heavily dubious. "Tiriana will put you on a schedule. Take a cue from the other girls. No stealing. No free drinks. Sounds fair?"
"Sounds fair enough," Rimara replies, glancing down the bar toward K'del and spotting the other man beside him. She takes a step or two in that direction, smiling warmly. "What'll it be, sir?" Pleasant voice, warm, friendly. Everything a barmaid should be toward patrons. She's not exactly flirting, but her demeanor seems to have altered from the serious woman she was a moment ago. She keeps one hand on the bar, the other rests on her hip.
Ananta stops a few feet away from the men. She recognizes K'del and P'ax, they're leaning into one another. And she guesses since Rimara is behind the bar and talking face to face with the Weyrleader...a job? Without saying anything, she just lifts a hand slowly to get the newest bar wen...maid's attention. /Invisibility, invisibility/ Nope, Ananta's really standing there for all to see.
P'ax presses his lips together and says, "Ask Cadejoth. He'll tell you." His lips pucker together sourly. "Well. That's nice, at least. A new barmaid." Not that he could give two shakes into the wind, given that he doesn't drink to begin with. Somewhere in his weyr, a good bottle of brandy's bound to go to waste. Rimara's approach gets a careful look, a speculative up-down. "Juice."
K'del gives P'ax a long look, appraising, then makes a face. "Oh," he says, before turning his attention back towards Rimara as she approaches, smiling in her direction and adding, "Congratulations, I guess. Employment." He's still going on his beer, and takes another sip from it, now, keeping his attention directed in front of him, or towards P'ax's side. N'thei? N'thei who?
"And," N'thei adds while he slips off the stool, his customary frown returning while he passes P'ax in the aftermath of a juice order. "Don't waste time on the lightweights, love." That's his parting suggestion, put with a rap of his knuckles on the bar between P'ax and Rimara before continuing on his aborted errand in the back room over there.
"Redfruit, citrus or a combination of delectable flavors aptly named fruit punch?" The question is asked with an almost teasing air, Rimara's smile apparently permanently plastered on her face. It's not really a false smile so much as it's ... practiced. Genuine, but nothing spectacular. To K'del, she actually grins. "Better than unemployment and starvation," she quips, chuckling. The lifted hand is noticed, and she turns to see who's trying to get her attention. When Ananta is recognized, she's given a nod of acknowledgment. N'thei's comment is heard, and acknowledged with another nod, indicating she gets his drift.
P'ax flips N'thei off behind his back under the bar where only K'del can see it. He'd probably get his head taken off for the move, but if N'thei doesn't see, so much the better. He sinks down into that stool finally and lays his face in his palms. Rimara is all but ignored. "Surprise me," he growls.
Ananta has made it this far into the Snowasis, she figured out how to get Rimara's attention. She scoots over to an open spot to the side of the riders. "Hey Rimara." A nod for the two men. Luckily N'thei has once again fled the scene. "So, I suppose I owe something for the broken mug." A hand over her mouth and a burst of laughter for the hand gesture. She whispers to P'ax "Hey can you do the other hand for me?"
"Won't catch me disagreeing," declares K'del in response to Rimara, his customary smile returning now that N'thei is on his way past. True, it does waver slightly as he catches, out of the corner of his eye, P'ax's gesture, but that lasts no more than a second. "Don't mind P'ax, here," he adds, after another glance in the greenrider's direction. "He's-- not usually this bad tempered." Ananta is given a vague nod, too, as she approaches, his gaze shifting between one girl and the other, at mention of the mug, brows raising slightly as it passes over Rimara.
IC Date: 1/10/19 --Or thereabouts.
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ)
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their 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 clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
K'del is sitting at the bar, beer in hand, while Rimara stands behind it, helping out, though for a moment she's cleaning down the bar and talking with the young bronzerider. He listens, lounging lazily, to what she has to say, taking an idle sip every so often. As she finishes, he notes, "Don't know if there's permanent work going on in here; guess you could ask around. Otherwise, Milani - she's the Headwoman - could probably find you something. And, truthfully, don't mind Tiriana too much. She's annoying, but..." He shrugs. Could be worse. "Am, yeah. Bronze Cadejoth's. And thank you - for the duties, I mean."
"I'm actually a scribe," Rimara says, filling another order for ale from some other person at the bar. Again, she draws it with some skill, topping it off with just the right amount of foam. That one runs a tab, so she dutifully writes the amount down where-ever she's supposed to. "And a cartographer. Been mapping the roads I've traveled so I can update maps whenever I can." All this is said while she's doing whatever is asked of her by the bartender. "My father was pretty adamant that all of us kids learned proper respect for riders," she explains, pausing in front of K'del. "I'll ask. If not here, maybe there's work in the archives. I've a good hand."
P'ax heads in from the patio ledge.
P'ax has arrived.
N'thei would walk in right when someone's bad-mouthing a goldrider. That's just the way luck rolls around these parts. Pulling off his (admittedly silly-looking) blue knitted cap, wadding it up, shoving it into the pocket of his much-abused coat, he has every intention of letting himself behind the bar on some administrative mission when his ear cocks to the words "Tiriana" and "annoying" in rapid succession. Like this is worthy of fascination, he stops, slides onto the next stool over, leans his elbow on the bar, all with his listening face rapt toward K'del. Not a word, true, but the expression sums it up: Please, tell us how you really feel, boy. That there's some mostly unfamiliar face behind the bar doesn't attract his attention in nearly the same way; with the number of people getting hired-and-fired around here, it's not like he can be expected to know all the help by name.
K'del looks impressed with Rimara's talk of cartography, leaning forward with renewed interest, and the obvious intent to ask further questions. This, however, gets stalled; it's quite difficult to completely fail to notice N'thei, after all, and his head turns, face suddenly - well, not unreadable. Uncertain. "Weyrleader," he says, after an awkward pause. Then, sallying forth, a smile pressed back upon his face. "Rimara, here," he indicates the girl, "is looking for a job. Reckon you need anyone else around here?"
It's not so weird for P'ax to be out late. It's weird to see him in the Snowasis. But he's here, his coat collar pulled up around his chin, his usual gray cap pulled down low over his frowning eyes. These eyes sweep the tavern, and they note several things of interest. His scowl deepens, hands stuffed into the pockets of his plain issue riding jacket when he heads for the bar.
It's difficult not to miss N'thei. Rimara's eyes track to him as he approaches the bar, even as she explains what she does to K'del. Silence falls as he sits, and she watches with some wary curiosity as he focuses on K'del. She has a good memory, and has been told at least once today who owns the bar, and what he looks like. Taking a breath, she asks in a clear, neutral voice, "Whiskey?" This obviously for N'thei, since K'del already has his drink in hand. Afterwards, after K'del tells the Weyrleader she's looking for work, her attention focuses on N'thei until she's told to do something by the bartender, which she does.
N'thei, to K'del's use of title-as-greeting; "Occasionally." He holds a slightly longer look on the young man, eyebrows raised questioningly-- nothing more to say on the subject then? "That depends on who the anyone is," he answers, just now realizing that Rimara-here is not a member of the staff. Or she wasn't the other day when their paths crossed. "Generally prefer them a little more..." He outlines a dramatic hour-glass figure with both hands, blatantly compares it to Rimara's build. "The one that broke the glass?" Asked of Rimara? K'del? With a mute nod in answer to his drink-of-choice. Clever girl!
"Whiskey it is, then, sir," Rimara says, and turns to select a bottle. Someone has at least briefed her on the Weyrleader's preference, or she was observant when she was sitting on the other side of the bar. "With the one who broke the mug," she offers, setting his glass in front of him. "Working off the cost," is added matter-of-factly. As for the blatant comparison, she straightens up and starts wiping down another section of the bar when the "hour-glass-figure" barmaid working with her spills beer when serving a patron.
No, says K'del's face. Nothing more. Or perhaps it's just blank noncomprehension. As the attention drifts towards Rimara, he takes a hasty sip from his mug instead; he seems to think she can handle herself well enough. But: "Reckon someone who can start a conversation, keep someone drinking, works just as well."
Hey, as long as she leans over to clean up the spilled beer and there's a decent eyeful, N'thei's not going to raise much complaint about pretty, incompetent staff. "She's a real chatterbox, I see," he remarks, glass to the edge of his mouth while he continues to survey the hire-ability of the girl in question. Just after the drink goes down; "Of course, your taste is a little suspect." But he doesn't seem bent on holding that against Rimara, instead beckoning her over with an imperious little hitch of his finger. "Let's talk seriously then, girl."
P'ax siddles up to the bar, glances at N'thei and K'del, then Rimara. Thick eyebrows lift as he watches the exchange. And then, quietly, "Hey, K'del." Stormy blue eyes sweep down the length of the bar and back curiously to the girl. Especially when N'thei starts talking to her.
Wringing the bar towel over a basin behind the bar, Rimara spreads it out, then comes back to stand across from the Weyrleader. Her expression is pleasant enough, but plainly says, 'I'm listening.' "Sir," she says, simply, acknowledging him with a respectful nod. She doesn't put on any airs, or try to flirt, or do any of those things barmaids are usually good at. However, she does put both arms on the edge of the bar, and lean expectantly. "What do you want to know about me?" she asks, then nods at the empty glass. "Should I just keep them coming, sir?"
"She talked plenty to me," insits K'del, bypassing the comment about his taste, though his lips tighten sharply. Conveniently, P'ax's arrival gives him something else to concentrate on, though he gives Rimara an encouraging grin before doing so. "Hey, P'ax," he greets, lifting his mug towards the greenrider.
Right when N'thei's talking about the quality of K'del's taste, enter the greenrider. That's good enough reason for the man to smirk into the bottom of his glass before he sets it down before Rimara, shaking his head. Don't keep them coming, he means. "Age? Experience?" Take that as you will. "Comprehension? Tiriana mostly hires people, mostly I fire them. Sure you need work that badly?"
After last night's near miss, Ananta's not the brightest person to show her face in here. But, she enters the doorway and then lingers to one side. Maybe one is invisible until they actually step into the light of the room. Her left hand messes with a pen while her other is being used as a chew toy. Her eyes go straight to the bar, and sure enough she sees Rimara. This time behind the bar. A small debt to be paid. She moves slowly into the light. Still thinking she's invisible, but actually drawing attention by her awkward deliberate movements. Now how to work her way around the men?
"Twenty turns," Rimara replies straight forwardly. "I come from a family of fishermen who liked to drink," is added. "My mother worked in a tavern, so I learned how to draw a proper ale around eight years old. I can read, write and cipher." She straightens up, putting her hands on the edge of the bar and looking N'thei straight in the eye. "I'll give you an honest day's work for a fair wage." As for the last comment, she nods. "I can use the job, and if I can't do it right, then I deserve to be fired." There's an air of confidence about her, but she's not cocky. No, if reading eyes can tell something about a person, Rimar's seem to be exuding honesty.
P'ax hasn't got a clue why N'thei's smirking about him. Not that he'd notice. "Can I?" he asks politely, nodding to the bar beside his clutchmate. "What's going on?" The question is asked in a low tone, his eyes openly curious as he takes in this unlikely interview between the woman behind the bar and their Weyrleader.
K'del keeps half his attention on the interview, in between sips and listening to P'ax, and yes, his chin rises just slightly as N'thei smirks into his drink, gaze boring into the bar in front of him for several seconds before he can give P'ax a more genial smile. Ananta goes unnoticed, for the moment. "Feel free," he tells P'ax, warmly. "N'thei's interviewing Rimara - she's new - for a job, here in the bar, that's all. She seems nice enough." His voice is kept low, but it's not exactly as though it's not entirely audible to everyone else, nonetheless, given the limited space between them. "How're you?"
N'thei repeats dubiously, "Twenty." Hard to say if that's to imply she's too old or too young; the pretty girl can't be more than seventeen or eighteen, but the rest of the staff seems to land more on the safe side of the jailbait mark. "Honest and fair. Well, love, if you really want it, job's yours. Not much pay in it, but tips are decent if you're good at it." Or chesty enough. The lowering of the man's glance is heavily dubious. "Tiriana will put you on a schedule. Take a cue from the other girls. No stealing. No free drinks. Sounds fair?"
"Sounds fair enough," Rimara replies, glancing down the bar toward K'del and spotting the other man beside him. She takes a step or two in that direction, smiling warmly. "What'll it be, sir?" Pleasant voice, warm, friendly. Everything a barmaid should be toward patrons. She's not exactly flirting, but her demeanor seems to have altered from the serious woman she was a moment ago. She keeps one hand on the bar, the other rests on her hip.
Ananta stops a few feet away from the men. She recognizes K'del and P'ax, they're leaning into one another. And she guesses since Rimara is behind the bar and talking face to face with the Weyrleader...a job? Without saying anything, she just lifts a hand slowly to get the newest bar wen...maid's attention. /Invisibility, invisibility/ Nope, Ananta's really standing there for all to see.
P'ax presses his lips together and says, "Ask Cadejoth. He'll tell you." His lips pucker together sourly. "Well. That's nice, at least. A new barmaid." Not that he could give two shakes into the wind, given that he doesn't drink to begin with. Somewhere in his weyr, a good bottle of brandy's bound to go to waste. Rimara's approach gets a careful look, a speculative up-down. "Juice."
K'del gives P'ax a long look, appraising, then makes a face. "Oh," he says, before turning his attention back towards Rimara as she approaches, smiling in her direction and adding, "Congratulations, I guess. Employment." He's still going on his beer, and takes another sip from it, now, keeping his attention directed in front of him, or towards P'ax's side. N'thei? N'thei who?
"And," N'thei adds while he slips off the stool, his customary frown returning while he passes P'ax in the aftermath of a juice order. "Don't waste time on the lightweights, love." That's his parting suggestion, put with a rap of his knuckles on the bar between P'ax and Rimara before continuing on his aborted errand in the back room over there.
"Redfruit, citrus or a combination of delectable flavors aptly named fruit punch?" The question is asked with an almost teasing air, Rimara's smile apparently permanently plastered on her face. It's not really a false smile so much as it's ... practiced. Genuine, but nothing spectacular. To K'del, she actually grins. "Better than unemployment and starvation," she quips, chuckling. The lifted hand is noticed, and she turns to see who's trying to get her attention. When Ananta is recognized, she's given a nod of acknowledgment. N'thei's comment is heard, and acknowledged with another nod, indicating she gets his drift.
P'ax flips N'thei off behind his back under the bar where only K'del can see it. He'd probably get his head taken off for the move, but if N'thei doesn't see, so much the better. He sinks down into that stool finally and lays his face in his palms. Rimara is all but ignored. "Surprise me," he growls.
Ananta has made it this far into the Snowasis, she figured out how to get Rimara's attention. She scoots over to an open spot to the side of the riders. "Hey Rimara." A nod for the two men. Luckily N'thei has once again fled the scene. "So, I suppose I owe something for the broken mug." A hand over her mouth and a burst of laughter for the hand gesture. She whispers to P'ax "Hey can you do the other hand for me?"
"Won't catch me disagreeing," declares K'del in response to Rimara, his customary smile returning now that N'thei is on his way past. True, it does waver slightly as he catches, out of the corner of his eye, P'ax's gesture, but that lasts no more than a second. "Don't mind P'ax, here," he adds, after another glance in the greenrider's direction. "He's-- not usually this bad tempered." Ananta is given a vague nod, too, as she approaches, his gaze shifting between one girl and the other, at mention of the mug, brows raising slightly as it passes over Rimara.