Drinks and company
Who: Rhodya, R'uen, and T'rev
Where: The Leaking Cavern, Fort Weyr
When: 11-23-2008
What: Rhodya's come to wind down in the local bar where she meets a chatty R'uen and a flight-addled T'rev.
It's a relaxed night at the bar, so somebody like Rhodya sticks out like a sore thumb. Sitting alone at a corner of the bar, she's got a pinched, uncomfortable expression and her hunched-over posture reflects that. She doesn't even appear to notice the thumbnail that's strayed up to her lips so she can nibble on it. The bartender walks by to replace her empty drink with some colorful liquor, and Rhodya snaps out of her reverie long enough to give him a nod and a quick smile as she takes the replacement.
A relaxed night at the bar, but not an empty one. R'uen's been at the counter for a round and now, as he too gets a refill and turns away to head toward that solitary girl in the corner. "I'd buy you a drink, but I see I'm too late," he chuckles lightly, nodding to her colorful beverage. But then... why is it so colorful? That question gives him pause, has his cocking a brow at the glass. "What -are- you drinking?"
Slightly erratic footsteps sound down the corridor leading to the Leaking Cavern and a moment later a slightly flushed and tousled T'rev turns up in the entryway, makes his way to the bar proper and runs a hand through his hair. "Rum. Straight up," is what he orders in a gravelly voice and leans against the edge of the bar, like he actually needs it.
Rhodya self-consciously sweeps a hand through her hair when she turns to face R'uen, trying to restore some of its usual body. But a long day means there's little hope of that, so she'll have to settle for more organized, but still a bit flat. "Uhm. Well, I don't even know, really." Her eyes flick down the bar in search of the bartender, but as he's already moved to the other end, all she finds is the newly arrived T'rev. She returns her gaze to R'uen and quirks up a tiny smile. "I asked for something with a lotta fruit, and here I go." She lifts the glass and wags it.
"Ah, brave then. Drinking the mystery drink." R'uen aims his own drink for Rhodya's table but stops before actually setting it down. "Mind?" he asks. The wingleader's entrance, ruffled as it is, draws the Weyrleader's eyes toward him, but for now he doesn't have any remarks. First things first; he looks to the dark-haired woman about his request to join her.
And there's T'rev's rum and he sinks quite a bit of it in one gulp, pushes the glass back towards the bartender, has it topped up, leaves marks behind then turns to regard the room, arms spread along the bar's edge. His gaze skips around here and there and comes to rest on Weyrleader and companion, but for now he only lifts his glass in that direction in greeting likely for R'uen.
"Yah," Rhodya allows swiftly, gesturing at the stool next to hers. "Or, no, I mean. I don't mind." The confusion draws a thin chuckle out of her, and she turns to her drink to overcome it. Her eyes roll up as she takes a quick sip to judge the taste. A beat, then she smacks her lips. "That'll do it. Pretty good mystery drink."
R'uen flashes Rhodya a smile for thanks, setting his cup down and taking the seat across from her. "I went with a much less mysterious drink." He tips his glass apologetically, a glass of ale, lifts it for a sip and then lifts it further to return T'rev's wordless greeting. A brow barely arches at the Wingleader, a tiny, equally wordless question. Then he's back to the girl, offering his hand across the table. "Rev."
T'rev twitches a shoulder up in answer to that wordless query, smile turning sheepish and he pushes away from the bar, ambles across towards the pair. "Flight," he makes a verbal explanation to his Weyrleader and nods politely Rhodya's way, though the smile he flashes has a bit of a rakish edge to it. "Mind a third? Just comin' back from Ista by way of Nerat, which is round-about but," and there's another shrug, 'what can you do'.
"Rhodya," answers the woman so-named, stretching a long, skinny arm across the table to shake R'uen's hand. As her hand returns to her side of the table, she flicks a gesture at his ordinary ale. "S'all fair. I just figured I wouldn't mind having something bright to stare at, this place bein' what it is." And as T'rev walks up, Rhodya's all too happy to welcome him, and she beckons him eagerly to a seat. "Well, I envy you," she tells him. "Weather's gotta be pretty nice on a trip like that. I'm Rhodya, by the way." In case he didn't hear as he approached.
"Rhodya," R'uen repeats, giving her hand a firm shake, an eye noting that long skinny arm. "Nice to meat you. You're... new here? Or have we just not bumped into each other before?" T'rev doesn't get all that much attention; R'uen just jerks his head toward the empty chair, flicks another glance over the bronzerider and says, "Figured. Makes me glad Zaiventh doesn't chase greens much. Or well.. at all now." Though his mouth does twist to the side for that last one.
"T'rev, Mecaith's," the bronzerider introduces himself and sets his rum down, takes that chair. "Well met, Rhodya. And -- yeah, weather was nice." And there's another wry grin sent Rev's way. "Mec doesn't usually. Surprised me actually that he /did/." The wingleader tips up his glass for a long drink, settles down comfortably. "Lost though." Another shrug and his gaze returns to Rhodya, curious for the answer to Rev's question.
Rhodya mouths the name to help herself remember it, then pops a grin. "Rev and T'rev, huh? I'll have to make sure I don't get messed up on that." She points a finger at one, mouthing Rev again, and then the other, mouthing T'rev. Got it. Now that everybody's identity is confirmed, she can get back to the question Rev asked her. "I'm new," she confirms, "from Igen. It's been pretty all right here, but you can figure why I'd be jealous of that Ista weather." She smiles, but Igenite that she is, she can't rest easy until her praise for Ista has been tempered by a little criticism. "Wet though it is."
"Yeah, no shit," R'uen laughs, a glance toward the other bronzerider when Rhodya points out the similarity. "We impressed together too." But nevermind that. "So you're new. Welcome and all that. Rough time to come from Igen. It's gotta be easier to make that shift in the summer." Speaking of weather. He settles back with his ale. "So what brings you here?"
"S'pose it would've made everyone's lives easier if I'd just picked 'T'van' instead," T'rev jokes with a wide grin R'uen's way. "Igen huh. Definitely welcome," the wingleader drawls out. "I'm from Nerat m'self, so Ista suits me pretty well when I visit."
Rhodya's eyebrows go up and she blinks when R'uen swears. "Don't you wanna watch that mouth, when there's a lady present?" Keeping the suggestion light-hearted, she puts on a laughing sort of smile when she says it, but the surprised look she gave him initially suggests she's not entirely kidding.
Rhodya puts it behind her. "Easier, sure, but less catchy," she tells T'rev with an impish grin. "I can't say this place suits me all that well - /yet,/" she emphasizes, determined. "But hey, it could be worse. I figure, at least I've got some manner of warmth to look forward to before the winter hits full force, ya know?"
"My apologies," R'uen says easily, though he says it with a smirk. "Just don't let it get back to my mother." He looks so cheeky that he might just wink, but instead he drinks. See the drink? He holds it up for display, maybe a toast, whatever, before he takes his taste. "So you're from the Hold then?" Rev guesses.
There's brows going up on T'rev's side of things too, but for Rhodya's reaction. He doesn't remark on it, just has another swig from his glass, grins at her assessment of his name. "Yeah. Was my nickname before I Impressed." Up go his shoulders in a light shrug and then he laughs. "Yeah, Weyr can take some gettin' used to, s'true. And yeah, headin' into the nice weather now. Gotta say, s'nicer down here than Telgar, more even seasons though the winter is pretty snowy." Rev's glass earns a look and T'rev just shakes his head once, grinning for some reason.
Social correction made, Rhodya's all willing to forget it ever happened. Her eyes squint up with laughter as she taps a finger to her lips, vowing silence before Rev's mother. His gesture with the glass doesn't even strike her as odd. "Nah, I'm weyrbred, lived there all my life. /Double/ the bother, huh? Here I am in a new place, and for the first time." She cranes her neck around to take in the atmosphere of the bar, returning she's seen it all with a simple shrug. "I'd be a goner if I went some place like Telgar though, huh? Or High Reaches, brrr." She gives an exaggerated shiver before downing some of her bright mystery drink to warm her supposedly cold self.
"Should make sure you have some good sweaters, jackets and all that," R'uen suggests, knocking back the last of his drink and scooting his chair back. He turns to look over T'rev. "You good?" Just in case, though the wingleader seems largely in control of his faculties. "Hey, it was nice to meet you Rhodya. I'm sure we'll bump into each other again sometime. Stay warm." He's getting up and making his departure.
"Used t'wear about five of 'em," T'rev notes about sweaters. "Remember that first winter at Telgar, Rev and me runnin' around lookin' like a stuffed wherry?" He lifts his glass R'uen's way, nods. "Yeah, just kind of fizzy around the edges still s'all. Be fine."
Rhodya grimaces at the thought of sweaters - foreign objects - but she nods. "I'll be good. Bye, Rev." Wrapping both hands around her drink, she peers at T'rev for a moment before turning on a sympathetic smile. "Got some kind of post-flight thing going on?" She waves a hand in front of her eyes, emulating the effect he described.
"I'm down to two sweaters when it's really cold out," T'rev notes further, waving as R'uen hoves off. More rum down the hatch and he rolls his shoulders, nods. "Mm. Went and swam it off down at Nerat, mostly. But Mecaith don't chase so often, so it hits me between the eyes when he does. And it's more kinda ... fizzing, not fuzzy."
"Fizzing, huh?" Rhodya tilts her head, trying to imagine that. She fails. "Sounds weird. Why'd he chase this time, if he doesn't usually?" Planting an elbow on the table, she leans her chin into her hand and peers across at him with eyes sparkling at the potential for gossip. "You or him got a crush out there in Ista?"
"Mm. Hard t'explain. Kinda like sound poppin' in the back of my head, still feel a little jittery, but it ain't so bad. Not this time, anyhow. S'worse when -- well when he chases a particular green," the bronzerider says slowly, grins and tips up his glass again. Once he's swallowed he laughs at that question, shakes his head. "Nah, guess he was humorin' Aath though. She's been flirtin' die-hard at him for ages n' that really ain't Mecaith's speed. No crush at Ista, nope." And there's an answering hint of impishiness on T'rev's face.
Rhodya's smile turns up higher and she watches him for a silent second, noting that impishness and just waiting to see if - well, if just waiting will bring more out of him. No? Well, all right. She lets out a quiet chuckle. "Sounds like a real gentleman, goin' to all that trouble for her. Shame she turned out to be a tease." Casting a sly smile down at her drink, she tries another tack to get him gossiping. "Least you've got that other green you mentioned, right?"
"Mec? Yeah, he is. We balance see, 'cos I ain't." And there's T'rev's smile widening just a little. Flight or no flight though, he seems impervious to gossipy tendencies. "Dunno as I'd really put it that way. Mecaith's just particular about who he chases. Ain't always the case. A lot of male dragons just go after whomever happens t'be glowin' at the time." And there goes more rum down the hatch and the bronzerider seems quite relaxed.
"Mmm." It's looking more and more like Rhodya's just going to have to get the gossip about her new home from another source. She resigns herself to it with a drink that finishes off what remains in her glass. "Lotta males in general do that, go after everything they see. --Women, too," she adds, quick to show that she's fair about these things.
That it seems, is something T'rev is willing to concede on at least. "I would be one. Or used to be. Very, very loose, though not so much goin' after as just, rollin' with the flow," the bronzerider explains and drains the last of the rum from his glass, sets it down on the table and leans back further in his chair. "S'a Weyr, you get your share of folks like that, folks more traditional, folks in between."
"Oh yah, but that's the great thing about a Weyr, ain't it?" Rhodya smiles as she draws back in her seat, locking her fingers together and stretching her arms out till she feels a satisfying pop. "Ooo. I mean, you never know who's gonna turn up here, what they're like. Guess I don't have a hold to compare it to, but it seems interesting to me." Rhodya shrugs, then plants her hands on the table and prepares to stand. "Gotta leave it on that note, though, 'cause I can feel myself gettin' dead tired over here. Not that I don't like talkin' to ya, but I gotta work tomorrow." She winks. "But you have a good night, now. Hope your fizzing goes away soon." She tosses him a friendly wave as she turns for the door.
"Yeah, s'part of what I like about Weyrs, ain't quite so ... fixed as some places," T'rev says musingly and tilts his head back a little, then forward again as if loosening a crick in his neck. "I grew up roadside, at a waystation, so I'm used to that, to things changin' up. I ate cut out to stay put too much." The bronzerider rises as Rhodya does, nodding. "You get a good rest in then, and shells, I ain't gonna hold a lady back from gettin' twenty winks just to yammer with me," he says laughingly. "Gotta go check on Ella anyhow, s'about that time," he notes, returning the wave and then collecting empty glasses to take back to the bar. He lingers there chatting with the barkeep before heading out himself.
Where: The Leaking Cavern, Fort Weyr
When: 11-23-2008
What: Rhodya's come to wind down in the local bar where she meets a chatty R'uen and a flight-addled T'rev.
It's a relaxed night at the bar, so somebody like Rhodya sticks out like a sore thumb. Sitting alone at a corner of the bar, she's got a pinched, uncomfortable expression and her hunched-over posture reflects that. She doesn't even appear to notice the thumbnail that's strayed up to her lips so she can nibble on it. The bartender walks by to replace her empty drink with some colorful liquor, and Rhodya snaps out of her reverie long enough to give him a nod and a quick smile as she takes the replacement.
A relaxed night at the bar, but not an empty one. R'uen's been at the counter for a round and now, as he too gets a refill and turns away to head toward that solitary girl in the corner. "I'd buy you a drink, but I see I'm too late," he chuckles lightly, nodding to her colorful beverage. But then... why is it so colorful? That question gives him pause, has his cocking a brow at the glass. "What -are- you drinking?"
Slightly erratic footsteps sound down the corridor leading to the Leaking Cavern and a moment later a slightly flushed and tousled T'rev turns up in the entryway, makes his way to the bar proper and runs a hand through his hair. "Rum. Straight up," is what he orders in a gravelly voice and leans against the edge of the bar, like he actually needs it.
Rhodya self-consciously sweeps a hand through her hair when she turns to face R'uen, trying to restore some of its usual body. But a long day means there's little hope of that, so she'll have to settle for more organized, but still a bit flat. "Uhm. Well, I don't even know, really." Her eyes flick down the bar in search of the bartender, but as he's already moved to the other end, all she finds is the newly arrived T'rev. She returns her gaze to R'uen and quirks up a tiny smile. "I asked for something with a lotta fruit, and here I go." She lifts the glass and wags it.
"Ah, brave then. Drinking the mystery drink." R'uen aims his own drink for Rhodya's table but stops before actually setting it down. "Mind?" he asks. The wingleader's entrance, ruffled as it is, draws the Weyrleader's eyes toward him, but for now he doesn't have any remarks. First things first; he looks to the dark-haired woman about his request to join her.
And there's T'rev's rum and he sinks quite a bit of it in one gulp, pushes the glass back towards the bartender, has it topped up, leaves marks behind then turns to regard the room, arms spread along the bar's edge. His gaze skips around here and there and comes to rest on Weyrleader and companion, but for now he only lifts his glass in that direction in greeting likely for R'uen.
"Yah," Rhodya allows swiftly, gesturing at the stool next to hers. "Or, no, I mean. I don't mind." The confusion draws a thin chuckle out of her, and she turns to her drink to overcome it. Her eyes roll up as she takes a quick sip to judge the taste. A beat, then she smacks her lips. "That'll do it. Pretty good mystery drink."
R'uen flashes Rhodya a smile for thanks, setting his cup down and taking the seat across from her. "I went with a much less mysterious drink." He tips his glass apologetically, a glass of ale, lifts it for a sip and then lifts it further to return T'rev's wordless greeting. A brow barely arches at the Wingleader, a tiny, equally wordless question. Then he's back to the girl, offering his hand across the table. "Rev."
T'rev twitches a shoulder up in answer to that wordless query, smile turning sheepish and he pushes away from the bar, ambles across towards the pair. "Flight," he makes a verbal explanation to his Weyrleader and nods politely Rhodya's way, though the smile he flashes has a bit of a rakish edge to it. "Mind a third? Just comin' back from Ista by way of Nerat, which is round-about but," and there's another shrug, 'what can you do'.
"Rhodya," answers the woman so-named, stretching a long, skinny arm across the table to shake R'uen's hand. As her hand returns to her side of the table, she flicks a gesture at his ordinary ale. "S'all fair. I just figured I wouldn't mind having something bright to stare at, this place bein' what it is." And as T'rev walks up, Rhodya's all too happy to welcome him, and she beckons him eagerly to a seat. "Well, I envy you," she tells him. "Weather's gotta be pretty nice on a trip like that. I'm Rhodya, by the way." In case he didn't hear as he approached.
"Rhodya," R'uen repeats, giving her hand a firm shake, an eye noting that long skinny arm. "Nice to meat you. You're... new here? Or have we just not bumped into each other before?" T'rev doesn't get all that much attention; R'uen just jerks his head toward the empty chair, flicks another glance over the bronzerider and says, "Figured. Makes me glad Zaiventh doesn't chase greens much. Or well.. at all now." Though his mouth does twist to the side for that last one.
"T'rev, Mecaith's," the bronzerider introduces himself and sets his rum down, takes that chair. "Well met, Rhodya. And -- yeah, weather was nice." And there's another wry grin sent Rev's way. "Mec doesn't usually. Surprised me actually that he /did/." The wingleader tips up his glass for a long drink, settles down comfortably. "Lost though." Another shrug and his gaze returns to Rhodya, curious for the answer to Rev's question.
Rhodya mouths the name to help herself remember it, then pops a grin. "Rev and T'rev, huh? I'll have to make sure I don't get messed up on that." She points a finger at one, mouthing Rev again, and then the other, mouthing T'rev. Got it. Now that everybody's identity is confirmed, she can get back to the question Rev asked her. "I'm new," she confirms, "from Igen. It's been pretty all right here, but you can figure why I'd be jealous of that Ista weather." She smiles, but Igenite that she is, she can't rest easy until her praise for Ista has been tempered by a little criticism. "Wet though it is."
"Yeah, no shit," R'uen laughs, a glance toward the other bronzerider when Rhodya points out the similarity. "We impressed together too." But nevermind that. "So you're new. Welcome and all that. Rough time to come from Igen. It's gotta be easier to make that shift in the summer." Speaking of weather. He settles back with his ale. "So what brings you here?"
"S'pose it would've made everyone's lives easier if I'd just picked 'T'van' instead," T'rev jokes with a wide grin R'uen's way. "Igen huh. Definitely welcome," the wingleader drawls out. "I'm from Nerat m'self, so Ista suits me pretty well when I visit."
Rhodya's eyebrows go up and she blinks when R'uen swears. "Don't you wanna watch that mouth, when there's a lady present?" Keeping the suggestion light-hearted, she puts on a laughing sort of smile when she says it, but the surprised look she gave him initially suggests she's not entirely kidding.
Rhodya puts it behind her. "Easier, sure, but less catchy," she tells T'rev with an impish grin. "I can't say this place suits me all that well - /yet,/" she emphasizes, determined. "But hey, it could be worse. I figure, at least I've got some manner of warmth to look forward to before the winter hits full force, ya know?"
"My apologies," R'uen says easily, though he says it with a smirk. "Just don't let it get back to my mother." He looks so cheeky that he might just wink, but instead he drinks. See the drink? He holds it up for display, maybe a toast, whatever, before he takes his taste. "So you're from the Hold then?" Rev guesses.
There's brows going up on T'rev's side of things too, but for Rhodya's reaction. He doesn't remark on it, just has another swig from his glass, grins at her assessment of his name. "Yeah. Was my nickname before I Impressed." Up go his shoulders in a light shrug and then he laughs. "Yeah, Weyr can take some gettin' used to, s'true. And yeah, headin' into the nice weather now. Gotta say, s'nicer down here than Telgar, more even seasons though the winter is pretty snowy." Rev's glass earns a look and T'rev just shakes his head once, grinning for some reason.
Social correction made, Rhodya's all willing to forget it ever happened. Her eyes squint up with laughter as she taps a finger to her lips, vowing silence before Rev's mother. His gesture with the glass doesn't even strike her as odd. "Nah, I'm weyrbred, lived there all my life. /Double/ the bother, huh? Here I am in a new place, and for the first time." She cranes her neck around to take in the atmosphere of the bar, returning she's seen it all with a simple shrug. "I'd be a goner if I went some place like Telgar though, huh? Or High Reaches, brrr." She gives an exaggerated shiver before downing some of her bright mystery drink to warm her supposedly cold self.
"Should make sure you have some good sweaters, jackets and all that," R'uen suggests, knocking back the last of his drink and scooting his chair back. He turns to look over T'rev. "You good?" Just in case, though the wingleader seems largely in control of his faculties. "Hey, it was nice to meet you Rhodya. I'm sure we'll bump into each other again sometime. Stay warm." He's getting up and making his departure.
"Used t'wear about five of 'em," T'rev notes about sweaters. "Remember that first winter at Telgar, Rev and me runnin' around lookin' like a stuffed wherry?" He lifts his glass R'uen's way, nods. "Yeah, just kind of fizzy around the edges still s'all. Be fine."
Rhodya grimaces at the thought of sweaters - foreign objects - but she nods. "I'll be good. Bye, Rev." Wrapping both hands around her drink, she peers at T'rev for a moment before turning on a sympathetic smile. "Got some kind of post-flight thing going on?" She waves a hand in front of her eyes, emulating the effect he described.
"I'm down to two sweaters when it's really cold out," T'rev notes further, waving as R'uen hoves off. More rum down the hatch and he rolls his shoulders, nods. "Mm. Went and swam it off down at Nerat, mostly. But Mecaith don't chase so often, so it hits me between the eyes when he does. And it's more kinda ... fizzing, not fuzzy."
"Fizzing, huh?" Rhodya tilts her head, trying to imagine that. She fails. "Sounds weird. Why'd he chase this time, if he doesn't usually?" Planting an elbow on the table, she leans her chin into her hand and peers across at him with eyes sparkling at the potential for gossip. "You or him got a crush out there in Ista?"
"Mm. Hard t'explain. Kinda like sound poppin' in the back of my head, still feel a little jittery, but it ain't so bad. Not this time, anyhow. S'worse when -- well when he chases a particular green," the bronzerider says slowly, grins and tips up his glass again. Once he's swallowed he laughs at that question, shakes his head. "Nah, guess he was humorin' Aath though. She's been flirtin' die-hard at him for ages n' that really ain't Mecaith's speed. No crush at Ista, nope." And there's an answering hint of impishiness on T'rev's face.
Rhodya's smile turns up higher and she watches him for a silent second, noting that impishness and just waiting to see if - well, if just waiting will bring more out of him. No? Well, all right. She lets out a quiet chuckle. "Sounds like a real gentleman, goin' to all that trouble for her. Shame she turned out to be a tease." Casting a sly smile down at her drink, she tries another tack to get him gossiping. "Least you've got that other green you mentioned, right?"
"Mec? Yeah, he is. We balance see, 'cos I ain't." And there's T'rev's smile widening just a little. Flight or no flight though, he seems impervious to gossipy tendencies. "Dunno as I'd really put it that way. Mecaith's just particular about who he chases. Ain't always the case. A lot of male dragons just go after whomever happens t'be glowin' at the time." And there goes more rum down the hatch and the bronzerider seems quite relaxed.
"Mmm." It's looking more and more like Rhodya's just going to have to get the gossip about her new home from another source. She resigns herself to it with a drink that finishes off what remains in her glass. "Lotta males in general do that, go after everything they see. --Women, too," she adds, quick to show that she's fair about these things.
That it seems, is something T'rev is willing to concede on at least. "I would be one. Or used to be. Very, very loose, though not so much goin' after as just, rollin' with the flow," the bronzerider explains and drains the last of the rum from his glass, sets it down on the table and leans back further in his chair. "S'a Weyr, you get your share of folks like that, folks more traditional, folks in between."
"Oh yah, but that's the great thing about a Weyr, ain't it?" Rhodya smiles as she draws back in her seat, locking her fingers together and stretching her arms out till she feels a satisfying pop. "Ooo. I mean, you never know who's gonna turn up here, what they're like. Guess I don't have a hold to compare it to, but it seems interesting to me." Rhodya shrugs, then plants her hands on the table and prepares to stand. "Gotta leave it on that note, though, 'cause I can feel myself gettin' dead tired over here. Not that I don't like talkin' to ya, but I gotta work tomorrow." She winks. "But you have a good night, now. Hope your fizzing goes away soon." She tosses him a friendly wave as she turns for the door.
"Yeah, s'part of what I like about Weyrs, ain't quite so ... fixed as some places," T'rev says musingly and tilts his head back a little, then forward again as if loosening a crick in his neck. "I grew up roadside, at a waystation, so I'm used to that, to things changin' up. I ate cut out to stay put too much." The bronzerider rises as Rhodya does, nodding. "You get a good rest in then, and shells, I ain't gonna hold a lady back from gettin' twenty winks just to yammer with me," he says laughingly. "Gotta go check on Ella anyhow, s'about that time," he notes, returning the wave and then collecting empty glasses to take back to the bar. He lingers there chatting with the barkeep before heading out himself.