[Log] A Physawhat?
Who: L'sen, M'wen, R'hin
When: Day 31, Month 7, Turn 58
Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr; Lava Lounge, Southern Boll Hold
What: The trio goes visiting again, this time to Boll's bar.
Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters.
The early evening over the western rim of the bowl is ablaze in a glorious sunset that seems to reach across the skies with rivers of deep red, dark purple and brilliant oranges. There seems to be a light breeze and the summer air feels stiflingly hot.
Contents:
M'wen
R'hin
Maxeoth
Leiventh
Obvious exits:
Weyrleader Ledges Western Bowl Floor Dragon Infirmary Weyrling Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore
It's early evening in the 'Reaches, the weather particularly sweltering for the cold Weyr. The faint breeze isn't quite enough to dispel the heat of the day, and R'hin's looking a little bit, well, disgruntled as he walks over from the direction of the lake. Though his hair is damp, it doesn't look as if that'll last for long at all.
Spiraling lower, Neiveth aims for an open space in the bowl, folding his wings and dropping the last several feet to land heavily on the grond. L'sen, with an oof at the rough landing, starts unbuckling himself, sliding sideways off the blue with typical lack of grace. Once he's safely planted on solid earth, the bluerider takes the opportunity to glance around the bowl, almost immediately hailing R'hin with a wave and a, "Hey!"
Maxeoth lands just a few seconds after Neiveth, his rider dismounting with what could be called elegance when compared with the blueriders'. Throwing a lazy salute to R'hin in greeting, and a wave to L'sen, M'wen walks over towards the bronzerider.
"I thought this was meant to be a cold place," R'hin says, apparently by way of greeting to L'sen. "My weyr's like an oven at the moment, no wonder it was abandoned for so long." M'wen, however, receives a salute by way of return, pale eyes lingering on the brownrider as he approaches, almost cautious. Heads spread abruptly wide, smile twitching his lips abruptly, "So, my fellow riders, how about we seek out some different sky. I've a mind to continue our tour of Pern with a Hold or two, what say you?" The invitation seems to extend to L'sen as well, judging by the look he throws in the bluerider's direction.
"Oh, hey. That sounds fun," L'sen decides, stepping over to meet R'hin and M'wen. "Where'd you have in mind? I haven't been to that many of them myself, but the ones I have are nice. High Reaches especially--that's where I'm from, you know what I mean? It's not /that/ bad, but I guess it is kinda stuffy, you know?"
M'wen shrugs his shoulders at L'sen's query. "Don't ask me, R'hin probably has an idea already planned. Do you?" A quick raise of the eyebrow, "Well anyways, we did all the weyrs, so any of the crafthalls or any of the holds are fine by me."
R'hin manages to look mock affronted at M'wen's somewhat-accusation, a hand touching his chest. "You'd think I was a mastermind of some kind of devious plot or other!" The sharp glint of eyes is definitely amused, the bronzerider's hands lowering. "As it happens, I've a bit of an idea. I'd heard there was a bar hidden somewhere at Southern Boll. We ought to do the dutiful thing and introduce ourselves, don't you think?"
"The Lava Lounge!" L'sen says at once, happily. "I've been there before. It was really fun. They have good drinks--though, those drinks last night were good, too. What was it again, a Weyrwoman's Kiss? It was nice. Wonder if it's anything like the real thing, though--never kissed a weyrwoman. Anyway, yeah. I know right how to get there," he bounces between subjects in the same blithe tone.
M'wen glances over at R'hin, "It seemed a thing you'd do..." Then walking back over towards his dragon, "Sounds good to me, lead on L'sen! Though the drinks better be as good as you say!" The last isn't said as even an 'or else', just a friendly comment.
A twitch of lips is R'hin's response to M'wen's accusation, not looking the least bit repentant. "That's the one," he confirms, with a twitch of brows. "That'll make it easy to find, presuming you remember exactly where it was?" Leiventh soars over the bowl from his usual position in the thermals above the lake, touching down not far from the other dragons with a low rumble of greeting. Content as always to let the others lead, he heads towards the bronze, waiting for the others.
"Just follow us," L'sen says sagely as he scrambles back aboard Neiveth and cues the blue into the sky.
Lava Lounge
The chill in the air is a pleasant change from the heat of the tropical winds that surround Southern Boll. This cave holds the natively christened Lava Lounge of Southern Boll Hold. The bar, along the far light of the glow baskets hanging from the ceilings. Marcus, the barkeep, is ready to serve you 'drinks'. The largest 'wall' is sanded down for visitors to write on. In addition, there are tables and chairs located throughout the room for people to sit in as well as hanging sky chairs for people to relax in after the day's duties are completed.
Contents:
Marcus
Obvious exits:
Crude Ladder
The trek through the jungle earns a particularly puzzled look from R'hin, but he dutifully trails after L'sen, heading back and forth until they pass through the cave. "Interesting," he decides, climbing the ladder and looking around at the scribbling on the wall. "Different," he decides, "Why hide a bar away? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" he wonders.
M'wen chuckles softly at R'hin's observation. "You'd think that, wouldn't you. But now people can say, 'I found the lava lounge, everyone love me', or something equally disturbing, feeling as if discovering the elusive" gestures around, "here, is an accomplishment."
"I think most people know where it is, though," L'sen explains thoughtfully. "I mean, word gets around, right? Like, y'all know now because I know, and I know because Satiet showed me, and she knows because... Well, I don't actually know how she knows. Anyway, look! I wrote on that wall. Somewhere. We should leave a message before we go, too." He gestures at one section of the wall which is mostly obscured by various messages, before he steps forward to the bar. "What was it I got last time here?" he wonders idly.
R'hin's low, amused chuckle shortly follows that of M'wen's, though perhaps for slightly differing reasons. "My dear brownrider, you're becoming awfully cynical in your old age. Too much time with me, I rather suspect. You ought to split your time with L'sen here, so you get the best of both worlds," his hands spread wide, grinning, before L'sen's comment earns an intrigued look. "Should we? So someone in twenty Turns time can read about people they've never heard of?" He gestures to the wall as if to indicate the very same thing of most of the etchings, before trailing the bluerider towards the bar.
"Possibly this is true, but do you want me to become like L'sen?" M'wen adds the last part as an aside, the bluerider out of hearing range. Then with a smile and nod, "So...L'sen...what sort of stuff do they have here? It looks quite extravagant." He walks over to the bar and looks about, slightly lost.
"All sorts, I think," L'sen muses, glancing around at the other two riders. "What I got last time was pink. What d'you have that's pink?" he asks the bartender curiously. In return, he gets some sort of concoction that is indeed pink. "Oh, hey, this is it. This is what Satiet got me that time. Why's that, R'hin? I mean, about the whole dividing your time thing?"
"I think I'd rather you be like L'sen than be like me," R'hin replies in a similarly low voice, an undercurrent of seriousness riding the words despite flippant expression. Since it's expected, he orders the bronze dragon, not particularly bothered about the contents, a twitch of lips answering L'sen's query. "Influence, my good bluerider, both good and bad. One should have a balance, don't you think? Not too much of either."
M'wen looks at the menu with a slight twist to his lips, having no clue what half the things are. "I'll just have a...brown dragon...seems fitting." And Marcus hands him the drink. Tipping the drink in a small salute to L'sen for bringing him here, he takes a deep drink, nodding appriciatively.
L'sen sips happily at his little pink drink, complete with umbrella. "I still don't know what this is, but it's good. I thought it was kinda unmanly, you know what I mean? It being pink and all, but then I tried it and it really is good. Anyway. What's wrong with being like you? I mean, you're a bronzerider and pretty nice even if I really don't get you most of the time but still, that's pretty much the case with a lot of people for me, you know?"
R'hin appears, if anything, bemused at the size of the drink that's set before him. "Hm. Let me guess - the golden dragon is even bigger?" he guesses, dryly. L'sen's comment earns a sidelong look, partway between amused and guarded. "'Pretty nice'," he echoes, "Is that really what you think?" there isn't a trace of sarcasm, he's honestly bemused by the assessment, a querying glance going to M'wen. "Why don't you tell L'sen what -you- think of me?"
M'wen hmms softly, sipping the drink before answering, "I'd rather not, I'm afraid I'd offend the barkeep, and you would't believe what gets said in their presence. Pretty nice isn't the word for R'hin, not in the least, but sure, i'll pretend he is for now, it'll make my day less stressful." hmphing softly at the size of R'hin's drink, he takes another long pull on his own.
"You're pretty nice to me?" ventures L'sen, blinking in somewhat bewildered fashion at R'hin. He glances from the bronzerider to M'wen, frowning slightly. "Isn't it?" he asks the other rider.
"You wound me deeply, M'wen," R'hin says, though the brownrider knows him well enough by now to see the pleased glint in his eyes, the slight curve of lips that indicates he's not in the least bit offended. A tip of glass is given in the brownrider's direction before he takes a sizeable gulp, replying to L'sen, "L'sen, you're a good rider, but I think sometimes you're oblivious to... many things. You think -Satiet- is nice, too."
M'wen remains quiet, not willing to offend L'sen, nor R'hin, even though he knows there's no shaming the shameless. Taking another deep pull on his drink, he casts a long glance around the lounge, taking it all in. "How can they expect a place to run well when you have to traverse a jungle to get to it, and no one is told it's here..." He shrugs to his rhetorical question, and turns his gaze on L'sen, awaiting a reaction.
"Satiet is nice," L'sen says enthusiastically, obviously relieved to be on more familiar ground. "I mean, she brought me here and she gets me out of trouble sometimes, like when me and Te'an got drunk that time we were weyrlings--he told me it was juice, promise--and she gave me a baby blanket for Leysen just the other day, too."
"Mmmhmm," R'hin's reply is not so much agreement as non-commital. "I saw you cornering her at the party the other night, too." Another gulp is taken of the drink, as he leans on the bar. "Trading on word of mouth," he finally responds to M'wen. "I'd guess it must work on some level, since they've been going for so long," at least, that's the assumption he makes based on some of the dates listed on the walls, one hand vaguely waving in their direction.
A definate twist appears on M'wen's lips, "From my experience, nice is the farthest possible word in the wrong direction in describing Satiet. I haven't got to talk to her much, but she seemed...well R'hin knows more of her then I." He glances about again, reading the dates on the walls, "Oh, I didn't even realize how long it's been about."
L'sen nods at that. "We're friends," he asserts with another sip of his pink drink. Pause. "Well," he concedes slowly. "She can be kind of... you know. But still, we're friends, so I know she means well in the end." And he nods firmly at that.
"She's intelligent, ambitious, manipulative... all the things I admire in a woman," R'hin says, accompanied by that low chuckle. "She's also cold, reserved, and reticent." It almost seems he's deliberately laying that out there, even knowing L'sen's friends with the woman and may well tell her as much. L'sen's comment earns a thoughtful look, then pointedly, "Noble intent, hm?" a twitch of brows is sent M'wen's way, as if the words should be familiar.
M'wen raises an eyebrow slightly at R'hin's use of words, a slight smile tugging at the corner of hip lips. "I won't be a hypocrite and say that could be not the case, as you never know with people of those sorts-" looking at R'hin as he says that "-But the 'Lady of the Spires' as R'hin so calls her, doesn't seem one to have a noble intent."
L'sen's over his head in this conversation, and even he knows it: his expression is patently lost as he casts glances between the two other men and takes a big gulp of his drink.
"You ought to talk with her, M'wen. I'd be... very interested in your... -insight- about her," R'hin confesses with an even, guarded look. "After all, looks can be deceiving, as you well know, my good brownrider." The drink he's selected is very large indeed, but he seems to be making decent headway through it. "Next round's on me. Are we going to actually look about the Hold, or just sample all the drinks hereabouts?"
Chuckling softly, "I'll be sure to demand the presence of Satiet, and press her with questions so that I can gain insight into her ambitions and intent. I'm not one to be making demands of a Goldrider, though I may as well anyways, we shall see..." He then ponders the question, "Hmm, I'm fine with sampling the local delicacies here, we'd probably get lynched if we go to the hold."
"I've never been to the hold," L'sen finally volunteers, setting down his drink--by this point, it's mostly empty. "Just here. I bet it's nice, though. Real pretty, like out at the beach. Why would you get lynched?"
"I'd imagine she'll return the process in kind," R'hin observes almost cheerfully, but it almost seems to be a warning of sorts. "The lady of the spires makes herself available to those who require her attention," he adds, with a shift of shoulders. "However distasteful she may find the process." A twitch of lips follows the comment about being lynched. "Hah, no plans for that tonight. I'd enough of that last night, with that itinerant. I can't imagine why he doesn't stay at Fort, if he's as involved with this goldrider as I'd heard." A sly look at L'sen, then, "Let's just say history has a tendency to repeat itself."
"I would rather not participate in actions deemed worthy to include her involvment. Though you do seem to have a knack at it." M'wen replies, draining the last of his 'brown dragon'. "I am also sure we haven't had plans to cause trouble in the other places, but trouble seems to follow us wherever we go eh R'hin?" The question is rhetorical, but he still tilts his head towards R'hin, anticipating a reaction.
L'sen peers curiously at R'hin then, cocking his head. "You mean Bayan? Yeah, what's up with that? You two really don't seem to get along at all--I don't get it. He's involved with a goldrider? I never heard nothing about that. Then again, that was the first time I'd actually talked to him in forever, so." A shrug. "And I dunno how y'all do it, but y'all do seem to get into a lot of trouble. Worse than Te'an, the two of you, I think." He grins, though.
R'hin looks astonished, though the expression's clearly put-upon. "Are you accusing me of masterminding a goldflight, a fight at Ista, a confrontation at Fort -and- offending Telgar? I'm pleased you think so highly of my abilities!" A twitch of lips is soon follows by a low chuckle, as if he can't hold the pose for overly long. "Mm, yes. Bayan's demanded that I stop seeing Aya. If I don't, he says, there will be consequences for me. And not the pretty flowers, happy puppies kind. It's fine for -him- to go around with a Fortian goldrider, but Aya's apparently not allowed to see whomever she chooses." There's definitely a hint of rancour there, and frustration, too. "Maybe you can talk to him, L'sen? I tried but... he doesn't listen to reason."
M'wen grins upon hearing the list of all they've accomplished, "No, I'm not accusing you of anything, well except the fight at Ista and the offending at Telgar, but even you couldn't mastermind a plot such as a gold flight or me being a complete...well you saw what happened...." The grin slides from his face with the last comment, to be replaced by a slightly regretful expression, his eyes dropping to the mug still clutched in his hands.
"You're seeing Aya?" says L'sen, obviously surprised. "Er. Well, I guess I can talk to him, you know what I mean? I'll try, anyway. Is he back home now, or off at Fort or what, d'you know? What'd y'all do to Ista and Telgar and Fort?"
"I saw," R'hin replies, sober, serious. "And it wasn't a good side of you," he adds, studying the brownrider for a moment. "But I think you know that." A faint furrow of brows follows, the bronzerider surprised at L'sen's lack of knowledge. "For a while now, since the Igen goldflight," he admits, with a slight shift of shoulders, sheepish grin. "He said he had some business to tend to in Fort, whatever that's meant to mean." A brief exhale, and then: "All misunderstandings, old chap. I offended some brownrider at Ista, who appears to have it in for me now, if her not-particularly-subtle comments last night were anything to go by. Telgar turned out for the best, and Fort- well, that you're better off asking M'wen about."
"I do know that, and I regret what I did, even though it wasn't even intended as a slight to her or Fort, but...well...a rockslide isn't really a claim to fame." M'wen sighs, mirroring R'hin's expression. Turning to L'sen, "I offended and disrespected a Fortian scribe, then, accidentally, offended a visiting Green rider from Ista....I still haven't gotten to apologize to her for that, I tried, but it happened to be the day her green rose, so she was slightly out of it. I should go see her at some point, but that will be saved for another day." His expression lightens slightly, "So, L'sen, what else do you suggest I should try here?"
"I didn't know that," admits L'sen. "Huh. I'll see what I can do, though. I mean, it might work out, right? I'll straighten him all out for you," he promises R'hin. Then, to M'wen: "Uh... I dunno. Anything's good, I think. I should get another one. Another pink one, like that other one," he tells the brownrider, then the barkeeper cheerfully. "Last time I came, Satiet thought she'd have to roll me out of her, because she can't carry me," he remarks.
"I hope so," R'hin murmurs, "Either way - thank you, L'sen," he says, with a grateful tip of head. He is, if anything, very interested in M'wen's assessment of the Fortian incident, nodding slowly. "I can't say as we offended Balinne anymore than she offended the 'Reaches," he points out, making it clear he, certainly, isn't about to apologize. Draining off the last of his considerable drink, he begins to peruse the menu for something new.
"Maxeoth always likes his greens so I'll try one of those Green dragons, if you don't mind barkeep." M'wen asks of Marcus. Recieving his drink, he takes a sip and nods, "I see why he likes Greens!". Turning to R'hin, "Yes, but as you said, the Istans are very insular, and she was no different...I was the one who had the temperment to make a proper judgement, and I was the one who didn't, so I still think of it as my fault, whoever the instigator was."
L'sen glances between the two again before shrugging. "Don't know many Istans, especially that one. But hey, no problem, R'hin. I'll tell 'im next time I see him," he says, sipping his second drink.
It's clear R'hin's philosophy differs to M'wen's, but since it's something they're both acutely aware of, he doesn't bother pointing it out. "They are very insular," he agrees, as much in answer to L'sen's comment as anything. "I suppose it makes sense, being that they have their own island and all."
"And-"M'wen admits, a bit sheepishly "-it /was/ one of the best weyrs we visited, although a bit hot. But I still didn't like the attitude she presented with 'our weyr is the best, even though we've never visited any other'. Though you may be on to something with that island comment..." Taking a long pull on the drink he looks around, then down at the drink, which happens to have emptied surprisingly fast, "Hmm, just like a green...."
L'sen shrugs. "I dunno. Never been there," he admits, "so don't ask me. I just know the Reaches, you know what I mean? But I think it's pretty nice, so it all works out. Insular, that's like... isolated, right? Kind of?"
"Like that," R'hin confirms, still examining the drinks menu. "Though I admit, part of me is jealous that they had the freedom of Pern in half the time we did as weyrlings - and most of them didn't even take advantage of it! It seems so pointless."
"You -would- see the situation like that, wouldn't you?" M'wen asks, a smile on his face. Turning to L'sen, "High Reaches is still my favourite, but I'm pretty sure every single rider on pern things that their weyr is the best...we all have a psycological attachment to our home, but I'm not one to go braggin to others about my home..."
"A physawhat?" repeats L'sen, blinking. "Uh. Oh, right. I dunno about their weyrlings, but, yeah. Weyrlinghood's not so bad, but still. Nice to be free of it, too, right?"
Wry, R'hin observes, "One's loyalties change quite dramatically, with impression." He sounds oddly resigned about it all. "In any case, this drink is... getting to me more than I'd care to admit," he says, pushing himself carefully upwards. "I think perhaps I'd better go find somewhere to uh, get familiar with the contents of my stomach. I'd rather not cause -another- incident." After that particularly gruesome sharing moment, the bronzerider begins lurching towards the ladder.
L'sen wrinkles his nose at R'hin, then grins. "I should probably get back, too. Man, drills are so /early/. I'll feel awful in the morning, I bet, but oh, well. It was worth it," he chatters cheerfully as he starts to toddle after R'hin.
M'wen watches the bronzerider with a slight grimace, "I always thought of him as one who could hold his liquor, ah well...You gonna still stay L'sen? Or are we going to lurch home as well?" Hearing L'sen's comment, "Well I guess I'll come too...don't wan't the locals giving me funny looks..." He walks steadily after the other two, not looking at all how he felt.