A simple hand of cards
Who: Bresis, K'sar, Reyce, Essdara, Rysia
Where: Living Caverns, HRW
When: Pre-fall, Day 25, Month 10, Turn 7, 7th pass
Comment: Meh. I'm very dissapointed in my showing in this one. I only post it for completeness sake, and because I did like the interchange with Reyce at the very end.
Bresis slides a ream of playing cards into a more portable stack, one feminine expression trying not to look too direly smug. A man worth double the goldrider's weight pinches the wattle under his chin and levers his right hand down to strike the dagger there straight into the table. "I'm just happy I didn't bet my belt." Bresis doesn't look at the man, instead eyeing her spoils with shadows of modesty. "So am I." With a giant breath, the portly fellow thrusts his way into the slim crowd.
K'sar grumbles as he stomps into the cavern, covered from boots to knees in mud and from head to knees in wet. "Bloody nasty weather." He heads directly for the klah to obtain a mug of the hot fuel.
Essdara is just at the serving tables herseld, putting together a small plate of high-proeine snacks. Wherry, meatrolls, and suchlike are piled on, and a mug of the warm drink that gets High Reaches through the cold periods aquired. Spotting K'sar coming her way, she offers a bright smile to him. "Hello, K'sar!"
Reyce, part of the slim crowd watching that card game, has his arms crossed over his chest and a frown of concentration on his face. He sidesteps to let the loser through, taking the moment to look up and scan the cavern.
Rysia makes her way from the upper caverns, moving her head back and forth to relieve some tension in her neck, as she automatically heads towards the serving tables, "'lo there, Dara..." she greets absently, managing to avoid the furniture, though at least one person gets a foot trended upon.
Milky blue eyes swing towards K'sar at the sound of his voice. "That's precisely why I'm in here." Eventually, Bre retrieves the hard-earned knife from its vertical stand in the hardwood table, surprised at the snugness the tip is wedged into the grain. "Did you barely make it out alive?" A second, more lingering glance to Dananth's rider and the state he and his clothes are in. The personal shuffling of some of the food selections by 'dara magnetizes the Istan's attention, her line of sight hovering right above Reyce. "You play?" Forsaking thumbing the edge of the dagger to gesturing to the cards, this is Reyce's question.
K'sar pours klah and lifts to take a sip before replying. "Essy...hello darlin. What've you got on the menu tonight?" He is talking about food - right? A look to Bresis and he rolls his eyes. "Dananth decided that a sliding landing was more fun in the mud than a simple touch down. Show off beast." Then he hears Rysia's voice and one arm wrapped in wet riding leathers reaches out to catch the girl to his side. "Hello lovely. Where's my kiss?"
Essdara grins to Rysia in greeting, and wider as the bronzerider catches her up. To him, she sticks out her tongue, in a show of sublime maturity, "Oh, I'm just fine, /Kissy/." She emphasises the name. "The usual, nothing interesting tonight I am afraid. We're too busy on these days for me to really consider doing ahything subverseive and tasty, more's the pity." She looks him over a bit, and shakes her head, "Reason number two hundred that I am glad not to be a rider."
Reyce's attention returns from the scan of the room, only to find he's being addressed. Briefly startled, he quickly schools himself into a frown, giving his head a quick shake. "Sometimes," he says shortly, his tone clearly showing irritation over being taken by surprise. "Not now."
Rysia, upon being grabbed and brought next to wet leathers, acks, "Somewhere dry and /warm/, Sar..." Despite the words, she has a grin for the rider, before shaking her head, and looking at Dara, "Kissy? Share details - and what's a rider gotta do with it? I ain't, and I'm still gonna have to go change close after this." In an almost mutter, as she tries to steal the klah from K'sar, she adds, "Just got it back, too."
Bresis wipes the area under an eye like she can clear the dark circle there by simply sweeping it away. "That's a common sentiment on a day like to day." Somber parallels are made with Essdara's rider sentiment. Rysia's and K'sar's actions speak of good relations, but her afar musings dry up for the sake of Reyce-oriented conversation. Her had crooks to the side and mouth works, "Do those 'sometimes' usually wind up in your favor?"
A soft snort of amusement and K'sar bends to kiss Rysia, then relinquishes his klah and reaches for another one, letting her pull back from the wet. Drawing the sodden coat off, he hangs it over a nearby chair and reaches for a couple of meat rolls. Hey, if he can't have his hands full of girl, then he'll go for food. "I play." he offers to Bresis. "And I don't lose." Arrogance, status quo for a bronzerider, isn't it?
Essdara grins to Rysia and shrugs, "A lady never talks about her conquests, you know that." She takes her meal towards the large group, curiously. "I've never understood the rules to that. But it's always seemed like a good way to lose everything you own."She comments, to noone in particular.
Reyce considers Bresis through somewhat narrowed eyes, about to make a response - it starts with a shrug - when K'sar cuts in. Cutting himself off, he turns to consider the bronzerider, shifting one fastidious step away from him as he becomes aware of the other's drenched appearance. "By all means, then," he says, the irritation gone from his voice, as he yields K'sar space to approach Bresis. "I'd like to see this contest."
Rysia wrinkles her nose up at the rider as she returns the kiss, then slips away with a bit of relief before she gets totally soaked, hands wrapped around the mug. "So... anyone not a lady involved I can natter at then?" A glance is given between the two riders, before she adds, "While watchin' heads swell up an' such?" She grabs a meatroll, then goes to join Dara to watch the card game, rather curious.
Bresis maneuvers her body closer to the edge of the low-back seat, cutting the bronzerider a settling smile. "I guess that's for you to know and me to disprove, but uh, I hope you brought a few friends with you because I really want this place riled. I can always take on a few men at once." After this bit of posturing, the young woman takes inventory of the people right close by, a silent 'well?' on her face.
K'sar drops into the chair across from Bresis and eyes Reyce. "Unless I'm mistaken, there is room for more than two players in this game." He turns to the gold rider and gives her a faint smile. "The more the merrier, right?"
Reyce shrugs again, his eyes flicking to the new additions to the crowd, then back to the two riders. "I'd rather watch, at least for the one hand." Which is a step up from the total denial of earlier; his curiosity has evidently been peaked.
Rysia shakes her head a bit as invitations are made and declined for the time being, before telling Dara, "Gonna sit down for this, I think. Wanna too?" she adds, as she sits at a table.
Bresis still cradles the worn, yellowed deck of dragonpoker cards in the palms of her hands. "I'm all for fast and furious games, but you're not exactly dressed for the occasion. Once those clothes dry, they'll harden so stiff you won't be getting up from that chair. I can wait." Sitting as straight as a Victorian, Bre steals glimpses of the gawkers. "Come on, if a fool and his money soon part I'm sure he and I won't be here very long." The invitation is as warm, albiet metaphorical, as it can be.
K'sar rolls his eyes. "No, they won't. They've been oiled. Or are you afraid I'll take it all too fast and you won't have any chance to relish your momentary wealth?" Sprawled in the chair, K'sar takes a swallow of klah and flips a meatroll in his hand, biting one and grinning, lips closed as he chews.
Essdara nods to Rysia, and moves to sit next to her, with a grin. "So you and K'sar? I never would have seen that. He's very entertaining, for a bronzerider." She looks over at the people around the table, and at the cards. "You know, I think my money is on the weyrwoman. Bronzeriders aren't known for self control, and isn't that needed in games like that?"
Reyce just raises a brow at Bresis's invitation, though he's clearly tempted. What finally moves him to do it is overhearing the first words of Essdara's conversation: between girl-talk and gambling, his choice is clear. Grabbing a chair, he says without a trace of shame, "Well, then I suppose I'll have to butt in, after all. I have few marks and no daggers to wager, but ... we'll see." He shrugs.
"Faranth knows..." Rys replies before lifting a shoulder. "As much as anything else, I suppose. He's a good friend. Now... about that gossip... who do I gotta bug?" After a nibble at the meatroll, she adds, "Never could figure out those games."
Bresis begins to shuffle, her downcast eyes looking out from under her eyebrows at the biggest boaster of the three of them. "I hope your game is as good as your pretense, bronzerider." Although she's gleaned his name from its many mentions, he's desensitized to a title. The cards snap and then ruffle a rapid shuffle before they're halved and redone. "At least you have a cheering section." Indicating Rysia and Essdara with a 'point' of her eyes. "Those boots're nice..." Peeking at Reyce's footwear and indicating a possible substitution for his lack of hard currency.
K'sar laughs low and shifts his seat to include Reyce in the 'circle' of player focus. Another meatroll is devoured and the rider taps a fingertip on the table. "Deal the cards, goldrider and we'll see who is pretending and who is telling fact. So...how worn and easily marked /is/ that deck anyway?"
Cheering section? Dara put her marks on the goldrider; if that's the best support he has, he's doomed. Essdara chuckles a bit to Rysia, "Oh, not much gossip to tell, Rysia, truth be told. A girl finds a lonely rider, she does what she has to. I'm no better or worse than anyone else there." She looks back to the bronzeriders. "Worse than him out there, though."
Reyce raises a brow, crossing a leg over his knee so that one of said boots can be more easily seen above the table. "They are nice, as a matter of fact. Which is why the betting will have to go up pretty high before I wager them." His gaze trails over to K'sar, whom he regards cooly, sizing him up.
Rysia considers that for a moment, and regardless of what she thinks Dara says, merely lifts a shoulder, and lets it drop. "True 'nough. And Danath's a dearling." Catching the bit about a cheering section, she grins, before calling out, "If you loose your pants, Sar, I'm not gonna sweet-talk you a new pair..."
Bresis deals until each of them have a hand of thirteen with an empty seat watching over the unmanned cards a fourth person would have gotten. Taking the other women into consideration, "You know K'sar here better than I do, ladies, should I be worried?" Cards fan out brazenly with no hesitation signs. "Too bad for you guys if you win mine." Because there's no chance they'll fit into her shoes. Heels click under the table to start the round perfunctorily.
"You prefer me out of my pants anyway, Rysia luv - why would you want me to get a new pair?" K'sar banters and claims his cards, fingers sliding over the painted surfaces, the faces kept curled inwards so no one but he can see them. His free hand slides into a pouch at his belt and a couple of high-value coins spill onto the table. "Just to show that I'm good for whatever the bid is. I don't carry much on patrols, but I can get more from my weyr if it is needed." The tone stating clearly that he doesn't believe it will be.
Essdara rolls her eyes a bit, and answers Bresis. "He's resourseful, and thinks he's clever. But, well, he's a bronzerider. THey aren't known for subtlty. I think youll be fine." She sticks her tongue out at K'sar. Rysia gets a quiet agreement. "He is, at that."
Reyce picks up his hand slowly, looking at each card for a good second before going for the next. When he's done, though, he promptly slides the cards together in a pile and places them on his knee. A glance at K'sar's bet causes him to quirk a smile. "Well, it looks like you might get my boots, after all." But he digs a value one coin higher than K'sar's out of his pocket - either that's all he's got, or his idea of what constitutes "few marks" is considerably more than the average person's. Regardless, he places them on the table.
Rysia blushes a rosy hue at that statement, but returns, "Well, if you really wanna encourage chafting... by all means. Lose away!" as she waves a hand, nodding to Dara.
Bresis isn't aware of how much worth she carries, only what she procured during her last match. A hand snakes into an inside pocket of her riding jacket and pulls out a quarter mark. It's acceptable to her eyes and placed onto the center of the table. "Thanks for the support." The cook is sweetly thanked although both eyes hover over the spread of her hand, studying.
Another coin is tossed in and K'sar eyes Bresis. He takes two of his cards and slides them face down towards her, waiting for two more to be dealt back. "Chafing only happens, Rysia dearest, when one's thighs are allowed to rub together. I don't think I've let you have that problem, have I?"
Essdara looks at K'sar, surprised. "OK, K'sar, now that was crude even for you." She shakes her head. "Shards, what manners are coming to these days. Maybe I best go back to the kitchens before my innocent ears are tainted."
Reyce, seeing no new bets on the table, raises a brow. "We've gone all around on the betting?" he asks mildly, picking his cards back up from his lap - but only to transfer them to the tabletop. He doesn't, apparently, feel the need to glance at them again.
Rysia eyes K'sar, "I was talking about riding Danath, K'sar." There's a humph, before she looks towards Essdara, "Speaking of that, have I been missing your treats of late?"
Bresis shimmies two cards off the community pile and gives them to K'sar with one finger sliding them his way. "I'm standing." Thus answering Reyce's question. Primly her right arm lowers on top of her left, the back of the cards flashing up, effectively waiting for one of the two to make the next action and choice. "Someday I should invest in a new deck." The age spots on the cards are eyed.
K'sar eyes Rysia and winks before he looks back at Bresis. Claiming the two cards he takes another coin out and spins it onto the table, then snaps the hand closed and taps it on the table. No words now - he's focusing on the game.
Essdara looks to Rysia, and blushes faintly, "I've not been myself, lately. Just been a rough couple of weeks, haven't had much enthusiasm for the job.
Reyce gives Bresis a small smile, inclining his head. "Fair enough," he says mildly, "since I'm doing the same." K'sar's bet earns the mildest of appraisals from Reyce, who fishes around in his pocket before pulling out a coin of larger value. "Forgive me if I make my own change from the pot," he says, pulling a lesser coin off the table as he sets his own down. "I mean to match, but don't have anything of the same value.
Rysia shakes her head at Essdara, "That's a shame. T'zen must be heartbroken..." she teases the cook, ignoring the bronzerider for the moment, given he's doing the important gambling thing.
"Yeah, what's up with that? I thought maybe you were staging a coup in the kitchens. I hope everything's okay?" The goldrider detaches herself from the game to speak empathically with the culinary technician. "My ears take to listening to problems very seriously, however, the good advice guarantee is optional." Beaming for her words or K'sar's raise, a move is made to match. Two bits of currency bounce into the pot.
"Stand." K'sar replies and then adds to the conversation. "Essdara should take over the kitchen. I'm tired of lumps in the morning hot cereal." He waits to see what the other two players do, relaxed against his chair and appearing to be only half-interested in the game.
Essdara makes a face, and sinks back in her seat the tiniest bit at all the sudden attention. "No, I shouldn't. I'd make far too many mistakes, and things wouldn't get done right. I'm coming to accept that, and just do the little things I can, where I can. That's all. I'd certainly never seek to rise above my station or cause disruptions."
Reyce glances up from the game, though while his attention is elsewhere, his hand goes to rest protectively on top of his cards. "You're that cook, are you? I've heard of you," he comments, but that's all he says, since the game calls to him again. He looks back at Bresis and K'sar and gives his head a quick shake, indicating that he'll stay where he is.
The dealer shouldn't make the first (or perhaps last) play, but Bresis is not waiting for the men. Her hand of five is splayed out onto the table to reveal three of a kind: sixes. Legs rearrange themselves under the table to induce blood flow to her left appendage. The relatively new leather is still taut enough to 'squeak.' Expectantly, Bre awaits the standing of her hand in the scheme of things.
Rysia tilts her head, then shakes it, "Why not go about learnin' then - might not be head cook now, but in a couple of years - well, you're makin' better stuff then most, most of the time..."
K'sar spreads his cards out. Three weyrlings and two Stewards. "Unless our friend here beats that, I think I might have proven my tongue isn't only good for one thing."
Essdara looks to Rysia with a nod, "Kinda what I have in mind, really. Just shutting up and letting what happens, happen. Tired of people being mad at me or yelling at me, just, well, wantto be left alone a while."
"You sure it's so good for anything else?" heckles a weaver-lass.
K'sar retorts "That's not what you were gasping the other night, lady love."
Reyce frowns when Bresis's hand comes out, looking up at her face with unmasked puzzlement. K'sar's hand invalidates whatever question he had, though, as he gives a small smile and shakes his head. About to speak, he pauses for the heckling, eyebrows raised, then gives a small, derisive snort. Flipping his cards over in one smooth motion, he reveals a rather low straight. "Can't beat it," he admits.
Rysia smirks, "Was that before or after you fell unconcious after watch, dearheart?" she tosses back, before nodding to Essdara, "Well then, can't blame ya on that one. Part of the reason I didn't bother goin' 'prentice. Well, 'sides the health issues, and the fact folks here are just as good as the crafters."
Bresis divides a silent glance between K'sar and Rysia for their private exchange and purses her lips to avoid breaking her poker face (which she hardly had to begin with). As K'sar's hand trumps all, "Well it looks like you came out on top after all, bronzerider. This time." The last bit is cherished by the Istan's tongue, savored with restive determination.
K'sar's hand reaches out and scoops the coins towards himself, stacking them deftly. "Speaking of being on top, I think it's time I took the lady home and showed her my new furs." A wink and he rises from the table, then turns to Rysia. "Would you care to join me, Rysia luv?"
Essdara chuckles softly at Rysia and nods. "Just tierd of struggling for everything lately. Just want to relax and be myself, get on with life, and make of it what I can." A shrug, and she looks over at the tables at it finishes. "Darn, he won."
Bresis confides to Reyce for all of K'sar's show, "Something tells me she might not go willingly." Despite losing, Bresis knew enough not to allow the betting to be more than what her purse could carry. "That was fun! Again we must do." After a Yoda-like parting phrase, Bresis excuses herself from the square gaming table. She purposely hovers to the left of Essdara once their distance wanes. "Anytime you'd like to talk." The sentence hangs for applied understanding. "And I don't just mean for selfish purposes. Even your worst dishes are okay in my book," With a slash of humor, "Most, anyway."
Reyce's expression remains as bland as if she hadn't commented at all, though he does flick a glance Rysia's way. Pushing himself up from the chair, he looks towards the serving table, then heads for a lunch that has been much delayed by card-watching. Money lost, it's time to avail himself of free food.
Rysia takes a last drink from the klah, expression a bit more flushed then is really warrented, despite all the racey statements, and gets to her feet, "And why would I wanna be doin' that, K'sar - after all, that wasn't very nice..." she informs the rider, as she puts the mug down on the table, and makes her way over, despite her protests.
K'sar steps closer to Rysia and pulls her close, then bends to whisper in her ear. After a moment, he kisses her cheek and gives her an expectant look, waiting for her to answer.
Essdara looks up at Bresis, with a faint blush and a slight smile. "Thank you, ma'am, i will bear that in mind, but really, there's nothing to talk about."
Bresis bobs her head in a shallow nod and generally tries to seem less intrusive. Watching Rysia succumb to the bronzerider's wiles, "I think that's my cue to exit." The grin on her face is second only in weight to the new dagger and couple bits in her pocket. It's out into the fresh air where the Islander is drawn, before Thread keeps them all inside from necessity.
Rysia considers K'sar for a moment, then sighs, and shakes her head, "No fair, with the eyes..." she complains, before offering a bit of a smile, and stepping next to the rider. Then having to lean against him. He is given a look, as she has to do that, then a muttered question.
K'sar wraps his arms around Rysia and chuckles softly. "That'll teach you to steal my klah, won't it? Come on, love." He turns and escorts Rysia towards the bowl and the waiting Dananth. "Good game, Reyce."
Reyce takes only a moment to throw a few bits of food on his tray, apparently not in much of a hungry mood, and grab a mug of klah with a bit of sweetener added. Everything settled, he heads back to the table at which he was just playing table, walking up just as K'sar heads out. "And you," he says, but his attention has clearly already shifted to food. He plops down at the table and digs in.
Rysia shakes her head, then tells the rider, "Then to your furs it is - so you can clean up after the mess I'm gonna make..." she warns with a faint grin, and with K'sar to steady her, she probably avoids collisions, as is never the case.
Essdara watches the pair leave with a soft chuckle, and takes a drink from her own long-forgotten klah, with a wince. "Ugh, cold. Oh, well. Should probably get back to the kitchens or something anyway." Still, she makes no move to actually get out of her seat.
Reyce glances up at Essdara's comments, a frown flickering across his features. "Then do it, or go find that goldrider," he says simply, as he digs his fork into a pile of mashed potatoes.
Essdara blinks, looking over at him with a frown. "Excuse me? I'm not sure to what you are refering. Or, for that matter, that it's your business." She looks him over disdainfully, though doesn't comment on whatever her thoughts about him are.
Reyce shrugs, not bothering to look up from his food this time. "Okay, so keep your mouth shut."
Essdara's eyes narrow slightly, "Advice you might well take yourself. Who are you to tell me to not speak? Last I checked, you neither were above me in the kitchens, nor are you weyrleader, or any other such rank. If you do not care to hear my voice, then by all means, feel free to freeload somewhere else."
Reyce rolls his eyes, though his mouth is filled with food and it takes him a moment to respond. "I'm not /ordering/ you, so don't waste my time trying to figure out if I have rank over you or not. If you're really that set on nattering away about your problems, then fine, I'll move to another table."
An icy voice, "Another weyr wouldn't be far enough. I'm not 'nattering', to you or anyone else. I'm simply tired and taking a moment to relax before I go and work harder for the meal you are so carefully eating. Some of us actually have to do that, we don't get by on our positions." She stands, glowering at the boy. "Another fine example of why the Caucus doesn't work." She turns and walks towards the kitchens.
Reyce, unaffected by the icy voice, just looks at her while she talks, breaking eye contact only long enough to take a swig of his klah. When she turns to leave, he merely shrugs and returns to his food, content with this resolution.
You make your way into the hustle and bustle of the Weyr's kitchens.
Where: Living Caverns, HRW
When: Pre-fall, Day 25, Month 10, Turn 7, 7th pass
Comment: Meh. I'm very dissapointed in my showing in this one. I only post it for completeness sake, and because I did like the interchange with Reyce at the very end.
Bresis slides a ream of playing cards into a more portable stack, one feminine expression trying not to look too direly smug. A man worth double the goldrider's weight pinches the wattle under his chin and levers his right hand down to strike the dagger there straight into the table. "I'm just happy I didn't bet my belt." Bresis doesn't look at the man, instead eyeing her spoils with shadows of modesty. "So am I." With a giant breath, the portly fellow thrusts his way into the slim crowd.
K'sar grumbles as he stomps into the cavern, covered from boots to knees in mud and from head to knees in wet. "Bloody nasty weather." He heads directly for the klah to obtain a mug of the hot fuel.
Essdara is just at the serving tables herseld, putting together a small plate of high-proeine snacks. Wherry, meatrolls, and suchlike are piled on, and a mug of the warm drink that gets High Reaches through the cold periods aquired. Spotting K'sar coming her way, she offers a bright smile to him. "Hello, K'sar!"
Reyce, part of the slim crowd watching that card game, has his arms crossed over his chest and a frown of concentration on his face. He sidesteps to let the loser through, taking the moment to look up and scan the cavern.
Rysia makes her way from the upper caverns, moving her head back and forth to relieve some tension in her neck, as she automatically heads towards the serving tables, "'lo there, Dara..." she greets absently, managing to avoid the furniture, though at least one person gets a foot trended upon.
Milky blue eyes swing towards K'sar at the sound of his voice. "That's precisely why I'm in here." Eventually, Bre retrieves the hard-earned knife from its vertical stand in the hardwood table, surprised at the snugness the tip is wedged into the grain. "Did you barely make it out alive?" A second, more lingering glance to Dananth's rider and the state he and his clothes are in. The personal shuffling of some of the food selections by 'dara magnetizes the Istan's attention, her line of sight hovering right above Reyce. "You play?" Forsaking thumbing the edge of the dagger to gesturing to the cards, this is Reyce's question.
K'sar pours klah and lifts to take a sip before replying. "Essy...hello darlin. What've you got on the menu tonight?" He is talking about food - right? A look to Bresis and he rolls his eyes. "Dananth decided that a sliding landing was more fun in the mud than a simple touch down. Show off beast." Then he hears Rysia's voice and one arm wrapped in wet riding leathers reaches out to catch the girl to his side. "Hello lovely. Where's my kiss?"
Essdara grins to Rysia in greeting, and wider as the bronzerider catches her up. To him, she sticks out her tongue, in a show of sublime maturity, "Oh, I'm just fine, /Kissy/." She emphasises the name. "The usual, nothing interesting tonight I am afraid. We're too busy on these days for me to really consider doing ahything subverseive and tasty, more's the pity." She looks him over a bit, and shakes her head, "Reason number two hundred that I am glad not to be a rider."
Reyce's attention returns from the scan of the room, only to find he's being addressed. Briefly startled, he quickly schools himself into a frown, giving his head a quick shake. "Sometimes," he says shortly, his tone clearly showing irritation over being taken by surprise. "Not now."
Rysia, upon being grabbed and brought next to wet leathers, acks, "Somewhere dry and /warm/, Sar..." Despite the words, she has a grin for the rider, before shaking her head, and looking at Dara, "Kissy? Share details - and what's a rider gotta do with it? I ain't, and I'm still gonna have to go change close after this." In an almost mutter, as she tries to steal the klah from K'sar, she adds, "Just got it back, too."
Bresis wipes the area under an eye like she can clear the dark circle there by simply sweeping it away. "That's a common sentiment on a day like to day." Somber parallels are made with Essdara's rider sentiment. Rysia's and K'sar's actions speak of good relations, but her afar musings dry up for the sake of Reyce-oriented conversation. Her had crooks to the side and mouth works, "Do those 'sometimes' usually wind up in your favor?"
A soft snort of amusement and K'sar bends to kiss Rysia, then relinquishes his klah and reaches for another one, letting her pull back from the wet. Drawing the sodden coat off, he hangs it over a nearby chair and reaches for a couple of meat rolls. Hey, if he can't have his hands full of girl, then he'll go for food. "I play." he offers to Bresis. "And I don't lose." Arrogance, status quo for a bronzerider, isn't it?
Essdara grins to Rysia and shrugs, "A lady never talks about her conquests, you know that." She takes her meal towards the large group, curiously. "I've never understood the rules to that. But it's always seemed like a good way to lose everything you own."She comments, to noone in particular.
Reyce considers Bresis through somewhat narrowed eyes, about to make a response - it starts with a shrug - when K'sar cuts in. Cutting himself off, he turns to consider the bronzerider, shifting one fastidious step away from him as he becomes aware of the other's drenched appearance. "By all means, then," he says, the irritation gone from his voice, as he yields K'sar space to approach Bresis. "I'd like to see this contest."
Rysia wrinkles her nose up at the rider as she returns the kiss, then slips away with a bit of relief before she gets totally soaked, hands wrapped around the mug. "So... anyone not a lady involved I can natter at then?" A glance is given between the two riders, before she adds, "While watchin' heads swell up an' such?" She grabs a meatroll, then goes to join Dara to watch the card game, rather curious.
Bresis maneuvers her body closer to the edge of the low-back seat, cutting the bronzerider a settling smile. "I guess that's for you to know and me to disprove, but uh, I hope you brought a few friends with you because I really want this place riled. I can always take on a few men at once." After this bit of posturing, the young woman takes inventory of the people right close by, a silent 'well?' on her face.
K'sar drops into the chair across from Bresis and eyes Reyce. "Unless I'm mistaken, there is room for more than two players in this game." He turns to the gold rider and gives her a faint smile. "The more the merrier, right?"
Reyce shrugs again, his eyes flicking to the new additions to the crowd, then back to the two riders. "I'd rather watch, at least for the one hand." Which is a step up from the total denial of earlier; his curiosity has evidently been peaked.
Rysia shakes her head a bit as invitations are made and declined for the time being, before telling Dara, "Gonna sit down for this, I think. Wanna too?" she adds, as she sits at a table.
Bresis still cradles the worn, yellowed deck of dragonpoker cards in the palms of her hands. "I'm all for fast and furious games, but you're not exactly dressed for the occasion. Once those clothes dry, they'll harden so stiff you won't be getting up from that chair. I can wait." Sitting as straight as a Victorian, Bre steals glimpses of the gawkers. "Come on, if a fool and his money soon part I'm sure he and I won't be here very long." The invitation is as warm, albiet metaphorical, as it can be.
K'sar rolls his eyes. "No, they won't. They've been oiled. Or are you afraid I'll take it all too fast and you won't have any chance to relish your momentary wealth?" Sprawled in the chair, K'sar takes a swallow of klah and flips a meatroll in his hand, biting one and grinning, lips closed as he chews.
Essdara nods to Rysia, and moves to sit next to her, with a grin. "So you and K'sar? I never would have seen that. He's very entertaining, for a bronzerider." She looks over at the people around the table, and at the cards. "You know, I think my money is on the weyrwoman. Bronzeriders aren't known for self control, and isn't that needed in games like that?"
Reyce just raises a brow at Bresis's invitation, though he's clearly tempted. What finally moves him to do it is overhearing the first words of Essdara's conversation: between girl-talk and gambling, his choice is clear. Grabbing a chair, he says without a trace of shame, "Well, then I suppose I'll have to butt in, after all. I have few marks and no daggers to wager, but ... we'll see." He shrugs.
"Faranth knows..." Rys replies before lifting a shoulder. "As much as anything else, I suppose. He's a good friend. Now... about that gossip... who do I gotta bug?" After a nibble at the meatroll, she adds, "Never could figure out those games."
Bresis begins to shuffle, her downcast eyes looking out from under her eyebrows at the biggest boaster of the three of them. "I hope your game is as good as your pretense, bronzerider." Although she's gleaned his name from its many mentions, he's desensitized to a title. The cards snap and then ruffle a rapid shuffle before they're halved and redone. "At least you have a cheering section." Indicating Rysia and Essdara with a 'point' of her eyes. "Those boots're nice..." Peeking at Reyce's footwear and indicating a possible substitution for his lack of hard currency.
K'sar laughs low and shifts his seat to include Reyce in the 'circle' of player focus. Another meatroll is devoured and the rider taps a fingertip on the table. "Deal the cards, goldrider and we'll see who is pretending and who is telling fact. So...how worn and easily marked /is/ that deck anyway?"
Cheering section? Dara put her marks on the goldrider; if that's the best support he has, he's doomed. Essdara chuckles a bit to Rysia, "Oh, not much gossip to tell, Rysia, truth be told. A girl finds a lonely rider, she does what she has to. I'm no better or worse than anyone else there." She looks back to the bronzeriders. "Worse than him out there, though."
Reyce raises a brow, crossing a leg over his knee so that one of said boots can be more easily seen above the table. "They are nice, as a matter of fact. Which is why the betting will have to go up pretty high before I wager them." His gaze trails over to K'sar, whom he regards cooly, sizing him up.
Rysia considers that for a moment, and regardless of what she thinks Dara says, merely lifts a shoulder, and lets it drop. "True 'nough. And Danath's a dearling." Catching the bit about a cheering section, she grins, before calling out, "If you loose your pants, Sar, I'm not gonna sweet-talk you a new pair..."
Bresis deals until each of them have a hand of thirteen with an empty seat watching over the unmanned cards a fourth person would have gotten. Taking the other women into consideration, "You know K'sar here better than I do, ladies, should I be worried?" Cards fan out brazenly with no hesitation signs. "Too bad for you guys if you win mine." Because there's no chance they'll fit into her shoes. Heels click under the table to start the round perfunctorily.
"You prefer me out of my pants anyway, Rysia luv - why would you want me to get a new pair?" K'sar banters and claims his cards, fingers sliding over the painted surfaces, the faces kept curled inwards so no one but he can see them. His free hand slides into a pouch at his belt and a couple of high-value coins spill onto the table. "Just to show that I'm good for whatever the bid is. I don't carry much on patrols, but I can get more from my weyr if it is needed." The tone stating clearly that he doesn't believe it will be.
Essdara rolls her eyes a bit, and answers Bresis. "He's resourseful, and thinks he's clever. But, well, he's a bronzerider. THey aren't known for subtlty. I think youll be fine." She sticks her tongue out at K'sar. Rysia gets a quiet agreement. "He is, at that."
Reyce picks up his hand slowly, looking at each card for a good second before going for the next. When he's done, though, he promptly slides the cards together in a pile and places them on his knee. A glance at K'sar's bet causes him to quirk a smile. "Well, it looks like you might get my boots, after all." But he digs a value one coin higher than K'sar's out of his pocket - either that's all he's got, or his idea of what constitutes "few marks" is considerably more than the average person's. Regardless, he places them on the table.
Rysia blushes a rosy hue at that statement, but returns, "Well, if you really wanna encourage chafting... by all means. Lose away!" as she waves a hand, nodding to Dara.
Bresis isn't aware of how much worth she carries, only what she procured during her last match. A hand snakes into an inside pocket of her riding jacket and pulls out a quarter mark. It's acceptable to her eyes and placed onto the center of the table. "Thanks for the support." The cook is sweetly thanked although both eyes hover over the spread of her hand, studying.
Another coin is tossed in and K'sar eyes Bresis. He takes two of his cards and slides them face down towards her, waiting for two more to be dealt back. "Chafing only happens, Rysia dearest, when one's thighs are allowed to rub together. I don't think I've let you have that problem, have I?"
Essdara looks at K'sar, surprised. "OK, K'sar, now that was crude even for you." She shakes her head. "Shards, what manners are coming to these days. Maybe I best go back to the kitchens before my innocent ears are tainted."
Reyce, seeing no new bets on the table, raises a brow. "We've gone all around on the betting?" he asks mildly, picking his cards back up from his lap - but only to transfer them to the tabletop. He doesn't, apparently, feel the need to glance at them again.
Rysia eyes K'sar, "I was talking about riding Danath, K'sar." There's a humph, before she looks towards Essdara, "Speaking of that, have I been missing your treats of late?"
Bresis shimmies two cards off the community pile and gives them to K'sar with one finger sliding them his way. "I'm standing." Thus answering Reyce's question. Primly her right arm lowers on top of her left, the back of the cards flashing up, effectively waiting for one of the two to make the next action and choice. "Someday I should invest in a new deck." The age spots on the cards are eyed.
K'sar eyes Rysia and winks before he looks back at Bresis. Claiming the two cards he takes another coin out and spins it onto the table, then snaps the hand closed and taps it on the table. No words now - he's focusing on the game.
Essdara looks to Rysia, and blushes faintly, "I've not been myself, lately. Just been a rough couple of weeks, haven't had much enthusiasm for the job.
Reyce gives Bresis a small smile, inclining his head. "Fair enough," he says mildly, "since I'm doing the same." K'sar's bet earns the mildest of appraisals from Reyce, who fishes around in his pocket before pulling out a coin of larger value. "Forgive me if I make my own change from the pot," he says, pulling a lesser coin off the table as he sets his own down. "I mean to match, but don't have anything of the same value.
Rysia shakes her head at Essdara, "That's a shame. T'zen must be heartbroken..." she teases the cook, ignoring the bronzerider for the moment, given he's doing the important gambling thing.
"Yeah, what's up with that? I thought maybe you were staging a coup in the kitchens. I hope everything's okay?" The goldrider detaches herself from the game to speak empathically with the culinary technician. "My ears take to listening to problems very seriously, however, the good advice guarantee is optional." Beaming for her words or K'sar's raise, a move is made to match. Two bits of currency bounce into the pot.
"Stand." K'sar replies and then adds to the conversation. "Essdara should take over the kitchen. I'm tired of lumps in the morning hot cereal." He waits to see what the other two players do, relaxed against his chair and appearing to be only half-interested in the game.
Essdara makes a face, and sinks back in her seat the tiniest bit at all the sudden attention. "No, I shouldn't. I'd make far too many mistakes, and things wouldn't get done right. I'm coming to accept that, and just do the little things I can, where I can. That's all. I'd certainly never seek to rise above my station or cause disruptions."
Reyce glances up from the game, though while his attention is elsewhere, his hand goes to rest protectively on top of his cards. "You're that cook, are you? I've heard of you," he comments, but that's all he says, since the game calls to him again. He looks back at Bresis and K'sar and gives his head a quick shake, indicating that he'll stay where he is.
The dealer shouldn't make the first (or perhaps last) play, but Bresis is not waiting for the men. Her hand of five is splayed out onto the table to reveal three of a kind: sixes. Legs rearrange themselves under the table to induce blood flow to her left appendage. The relatively new leather is still taut enough to 'squeak.' Expectantly, Bre awaits the standing of her hand in the scheme of things.
Rysia tilts her head, then shakes it, "Why not go about learnin' then - might not be head cook now, but in a couple of years - well, you're makin' better stuff then most, most of the time..."
K'sar spreads his cards out. Three weyrlings and two Stewards. "Unless our friend here beats that, I think I might have proven my tongue isn't only good for one thing."
Essdara looks to Rysia with a nod, "Kinda what I have in mind, really. Just shutting up and letting what happens, happen. Tired of people being mad at me or yelling at me, just, well, wantto be left alone a while."
"You sure it's so good for anything else?" heckles a weaver-lass.
K'sar retorts "That's not what you were gasping the other night, lady love."
Reyce frowns when Bresis's hand comes out, looking up at her face with unmasked puzzlement. K'sar's hand invalidates whatever question he had, though, as he gives a small smile and shakes his head. About to speak, he pauses for the heckling, eyebrows raised, then gives a small, derisive snort. Flipping his cards over in one smooth motion, he reveals a rather low straight. "Can't beat it," he admits.
Rysia smirks, "Was that before or after you fell unconcious after watch, dearheart?" she tosses back, before nodding to Essdara, "Well then, can't blame ya on that one. Part of the reason I didn't bother goin' 'prentice. Well, 'sides the health issues, and the fact folks here are just as good as the crafters."
Bresis divides a silent glance between K'sar and Rysia for their private exchange and purses her lips to avoid breaking her poker face (which she hardly had to begin with). As K'sar's hand trumps all, "Well it looks like you came out on top after all, bronzerider. This time." The last bit is cherished by the Istan's tongue, savored with restive determination.
K'sar's hand reaches out and scoops the coins towards himself, stacking them deftly. "Speaking of being on top, I think it's time I took the lady home and showed her my new furs." A wink and he rises from the table, then turns to Rysia. "Would you care to join me, Rysia luv?"
Essdara chuckles softly at Rysia and nods. "Just tierd of struggling for everything lately. Just want to relax and be myself, get on with life, and make of it what I can." A shrug, and she looks over at the tables at it finishes. "Darn, he won."
Bresis confides to Reyce for all of K'sar's show, "Something tells me she might not go willingly." Despite losing, Bresis knew enough not to allow the betting to be more than what her purse could carry. "That was fun! Again we must do." After a Yoda-like parting phrase, Bresis excuses herself from the square gaming table. She purposely hovers to the left of Essdara once their distance wanes. "Anytime you'd like to talk." The sentence hangs for applied understanding. "And I don't just mean for selfish purposes. Even your worst dishes are okay in my book," With a slash of humor, "Most, anyway."
Reyce's expression remains as bland as if she hadn't commented at all, though he does flick a glance Rysia's way. Pushing himself up from the chair, he looks towards the serving table, then heads for a lunch that has been much delayed by card-watching. Money lost, it's time to avail himself of free food.
Rysia takes a last drink from the klah, expression a bit more flushed then is really warrented, despite all the racey statements, and gets to her feet, "And why would I wanna be doin' that, K'sar - after all, that wasn't very nice..." she informs the rider, as she puts the mug down on the table, and makes her way over, despite her protests.
K'sar steps closer to Rysia and pulls her close, then bends to whisper in her ear. After a moment, he kisses her cheek and gives her an expectant look, waiting for her to answer.
Essdara looks up at Bresis, with a faint blush and a slight smile. "Thank you, ma'am, i will bear that in mind, but really, there's nothing to talk about."
Bresis bobs her head in a shallow nod and generally tries to seem less intrusive. Watching Rysia succumb to the bronzerider's wiles, "I think that's my cue to exit." The grin on her face is second only in weight to the new dagger and couple bits in her pocket. It's out into the fresh air where the Islander is drawn, before Thread keeps them all inside from necessity.
Rysia considers K'sar for a moment, then sighs, and shakes her head, "No fair, with the eyes..." she complains, before offering a bit of a smile, and stepping next to the rider. Then having to lean against him. He is given a look, as she has to do that, then a muttered question.
K'sar wraps his arms around Rysia and chuckles softly. "That'll teach you to steal my klah, won't it? Come on, love." He turns and escorts Rysia towards the bowl and the waiting Dananth. "Good game, Reyce."
Reyce takes only a moment to throw a few bits of food on his tray, apparently not in much of a hungry mood, and grab a mug of klah with a bit of sweetener added. Everything settled, he heads back to the table at which he was just playing table, walking up just as K'sar heads out. "And you," he says, but his attention has clearly already shifted to food. He plops down at the table and digs in.
Rysia shakes her head, then tells the rider, "Then to your furs it is - so you can clean up after the mess I'm gonna make..." she warns with a faint grin, and with K'sar to steady her, she probably avoids collisions, as is never the case.
Essdara watches the pair leave with a soft chuckle, and takes a drink from her own long-forgotten klah, with a wince. "Ugh, cold. Oh, well. Should probably get back to the kitchens or something anyway." Still, she makes no move to actually get out of her seat.
Reyce glances up at Essdara's comments, a frown flickering across his features. "Then do it, or go find that goldrider," he says simply, as he digs his fork into a pile of mashed potatoes.
Essdara blinks, looking over at him with a frown. "Excuse me? I'm not sure to what you are refering. Or, for that matter, that it's your business." She looks him over disdainfully, though doesn't comment on whatever her thoughts about him are.
Reyce shrugs, not bothering to look up from his food this time. "Okay, so keep your mouth shut."
Essdara's eyes narrow slightly, "Advice you might well take yourself. Who are you to tell me to not speak? Last I checked, you neither were above me in the kitchens, nor are you weyrleader, or any other such rank. If you do not care to hear my voice, then by all means, feel free to freeload somewhere else."
Reyce rolls his eyes, though his mouth is filled with food and it takes him a moment to respond. "I'm not /ordering/ you, so don't waste my time trying to figure out if I have rank over you or not. If you're really that set on nattering away about your problems, then fine, I'll move to another table."
An icy voice, "Another weyr wouldn't be far enough. I'm not 'nattering', to you or anyone else. I'm simply tired and taking a moment to relax before I go and work harder for the meal you are so carefully eating. Some of us actually have to do that, we don't get by on our positions." She stands, glowering at the boy. "Another fine example of why the Caucus doesn't work." She turns and walks towards the kitchens.
Reyce, unaffected by the icy voice, just looks at her while she talks, breaking eye contact only long enough to take a swig of his klah. When she turns to leave, he merely shrugs and returns to his food, content with this resolution.
You make your way into the hustle and bustle of the Weyr's kitchens.