Log: In which Taikrin needs a drink.
Date: Day 18, Month 8, Turn 22 of Interval 10
Summary: The Snowasis is the best place ever. Z'yi is the best bluerider ever. Beer and brandy are the best drinks ever!
NorCon MUSH - 5/1/2010
----------------------
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ)
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
Contents:
Silarra
Z'yi
Obvious exits:
Hallway Patio Ledge
It is a summer night, 21:29 of day 18, month 8, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Balmy summer nights. They exist. Elsewhere. Here in High Reaches, though, the best impression of 'balmy' that can be found is the late-night Snowasis: all that body heat, man. Z'yi can be found at a back table, nursing a beverage which is rather interestingly /not/ straight whiskey nor a tall ale; instead, it appears to be some combination of fruit juice and liquor, perhaps, due to the pale peach coloration. His dark eyes examine individuals scattered about the bar with surprising thoroughness, the visual inquisition mercilessly chowing through the crowds. He could be looking for someone, perhaps; but it seems, somehow, less likely.
While discretion is not usually a trait associated with Taikrin, she /can/ be subtle when the mood strikes. Such as now: despite the relaxation of the rules surrounding weyrlings and alcohol, her few visits to the Snowasis have been characterized by a quiet, low-key demeanor. She slips in from the patio, gaze somewhat downcast, and swiftly threads her way through the nighttime occupants to head straight for the bar. It takes only a moment to catch the bartender's eye, and just a moment more before a tall mug of a reddish, frothy beer is set before her, eliciting a quiet, "Thanks," and a big gulp of delicious liquid sustenence.
Silarra makes her way in, hands tucked down into the pockets of her pants. She freezes for a second at the door to glance around, but then the weyrling is angling towards the bar, biting her lower lip as the teenager makes her way through the people. "Taikrin." She greets, spotting the fellow weyrling at the bar.
Z'yi's eyes fall upon Silarra and Taikrin, something of amusement touching very vaguely at the corners of his eyes. The big man doesn't make to move, watching the interplay between the two in lieu of continuing his tactical assessment of the Snowasis' denizens.
Taikrin doesn't /quite/ jump halfway to the ceiling when Silarra calls her name, but it's a near thing. As it is, beer sloshes over her hand, and the look she gives Silarra is startled, to say the least. "Oh--- uh. Hey." Nervousness is masked with another fortifying gulp of beer, after which she's even able to summon a lopsided smile. "'Sup? Havin' a bit of somethin', too?"
Silarra doesn't seem to notice Z'yi yet. She's too busy smirking over Taikrin's jumping. The younger woman makes her way up to lean forward against the bar considering it. "Yeah. Don't really drink, but thought I'd try. Maybe it's just what I need to relax." That last bit is accompanied with a shrug and a very dry tone.
Z'yi is a dirty old man. Carry on.
"Beer's good, if y'just want a little somethin'. Ain't real strong, this'n." The mostly-full glass is indicated for Silarra, even as Taikrin is taking another sip. "Ain't much better, y'know? Takes th'edge off." She leans against the bar, then, raising a hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Y'had /anythin'/ lately? Y'sure Liniath's gonna be okay with it?"
Silarra looks over to the bartender. "Beer, then. Thanks." She'll take Taikrin's advice in that, turning to look around the room for a moment, her eyes catching on Z'yi before they move on. "Have had anything since I impressed. And Liniath can just deal with it. Maybe it'll give her a reason to be quiet." Silarra grumbles that last bit before she adds. "I think she's beyond freaking out over every little thing and then sharing embarrassing things with /everyone/."
A bartender pops up next to the two girls with two small glasses filled with a liquid of dubious nature: Bitran brandy, strong enough to scald paint from wood, topped with a cute little floater of some anonymous fruit juice. "From the bluerider," he announces, gesturing into the corner where Z'yi sits - and toasts the pair with his own glass, evidently a much larger version of the shot that they've been bestowed with.
"I dunno, even Szad got a little weird, first time I got a buzz." Taikrin turns as well, leaning with her back against the bar. "An' he's pretty chill about this stuff, y'know? Y'know what it's like enough t'warn her? Or I can tell Szad to, if y'want." An eyebrow is quirked at the green weyrling, accompanied by a teasing grin. "Don't want her freakin' out an' getting all our privs yanked, y'know?" And then there's a bartender and Taikrin is slopping beer all over her hand /again/. Muttering something about putting bells on people, she still manages to summon a grateful smile for the bartender. Upon turning to spot Z'yi, though, it grows into something quite a bit more devious. "Oh, awesome!" New brandy glass is raised in salute to the bluerider. "That man is the /best/."
Silarra looks down to the strong drink warily. "Told her about it already. Liniath is, uh, I have no idea really about how she'll react to anything, to be honest. She's pretty happy and chilled out at the moment though. Catching me up on the day's gossip. Again." Silarra groans at that before she looks over to the newly arrived drink a bit warily. She lifts the little glass, sniffing at it, before she turns to look towards the bluerider. "Z'yi trying to get us drunk?"
Just because Z'yi takes Taikrin out drinking and whorin..er.. woman-chasing, doesn't make him /the best/. Really. The Snowdrift rider doesn't seem all too anxious to move, however. There's an indulgent look for Taikrin's deviousness, though, along with a much more innocent smile than normal - /gotta/ be fake - for Silarra's questioning glance.
Taikrin is now in heaven: she's got a beer in one hand and a brandy in the other, and the company's not too shabby. A sidelong look is directed at Silarra, and then she's nudging the girl and indicating Z'yi's table. "Hopefully! C'mon, let's go somewhere bit more private. Don't need nobody gossipin' 'bout weyrlings hangin' out at th'bar, y'know?" The tone is breezy, though there's a hint of wariness still in the gaze that scans the room. Nevertheless, she heads towards the bluerider's table with rather more saunter in her step than is strictly called for, and manages to flop herself into a chair without spilling more of the precious booze. "My hero, eh?! You know just what a girl needs after a long day."
Silarra collects her beer as well and trails after Taikrin. "I'm sure our class already has enough of a reputation without adding to it that we spend all our time at the bar." Silarra drawls before Z'yi gets a quick smile. "Trying to burn out my throat?" She asks over in a teasing tone with another sniff at that little glass.
"Well, what a girl /really/ needs after a long day," beat, "Is a good massage." Not, perhaps, what he'd say if he were only in the company of a select few of his wingmates. But Silarra is there, and thus he must temper his tongue. Or maybe not. Maybe he's not personally comfortable with crude language around any woman who isn't Ajatha. This is entirely possible. Z'yi squints a smile up to Silarra, and offers a shrug of big shoulders, unrepenting. "Consider it a congratulations drink on surviving weyrlinghood up until this point."
"Yeah, well reckon we--" Taikrin shoots a lazy smile up to Silarra, which quickly metamorphoses into a frown. "--do an' all-- but hey, you make sure y'take that /real/ slow, y'know? Little tiny sips. I ain't gonna /carry/ you back t'Liniath." But that's about all the protective concern Taikrin seems able to muster tonight, because with a one-shouldered shrug she returns her attention to Z'yi... along with that devious grin. "/Massage/, is it? No wonder yer tryin' t'get helpless weyrlings drunk if /that/ is how y'do it."
Silarra gives Z'yi a smirk as she slides in to take a seat. "Hey, you got me into all of this in the first place." She notes leaving the stronger drink aside, for now, to sip from her beer. "Think they'd notice if I ended up sleeping in here tonight?" Silarra asks with a sarcastic tone over to Taikrin before she gives Z'yi a quick look over. "Nah. If someone has to carry me back to Liniath, he could probably do it with one hand."
"Uh huh. I'm not talking about /that/ kind of massage. I was trying to keep the joke kid-friendly," Z'yi drawls with bemusement, leaning back in his chair as easy as you could please. "I'd carry you back," he assures Silarra. "Two-handed, even. Least I could do for 'getting you into' this whole eternal lug thing." The warmth of alcohol has burred his already deep tones, the physical evidence of a day's worth of drinking upon the bluerider. "Bet I could carry you both. One on each shoulder." So amiable, tonight. Must have been a restday.
Taikrin leans back in her chair, taking a pretty good sized sip from the brandy as she does so. "Yeah, yeah. Sure Silarra appreciates you keepin' th'joint classy." There's a moment of broody darkness as she comments, "Yeah, I bet F'reln'd scream his bloody head off sayin' I stoled you away or somethin'." But even the thought of the guard-weyrling can't stave off the happy-alcohol feeling for long: she's back to smirking at Z'yi only a moment later. "Like t'see you try it! I ain't got a broken arm, this time."
Silarra sticks her tongue out at Taikrin before she looks over to Z'yi, then pointedly around. "Kid-friendly? What for? /I/ don't see any kids in here." She sinks back against the back of the seat as she continues to sip at her beer. "It be worth it, just to see the look on that idiot F'reln's face."
"I'll punch F'reln in the face." It's said rather placidly, but with great feeling underneath that genteel facade-- it is generally understood that any who deign to mess with Taikrin (rather than the other way around) risks meeting a pair of very large, very trained fists. Taik is good people, and Isz looks after his own. To Silarra, there's another of those indulgent smiles. "Yeah, you're right, Gabe ain't here, is he."
"Yeah, wouldn't that be awesome. Dyin' t'give 'im a good one, y'know?" There's a long-suffering sigh exhaled into her drink as Taikrin takes a quick gulp. "Promised Leova I wouldn't, though. Gotta, uh... outsmart 'im. Or somethin'? Ain't real clear on th'details." Head is shaken, briefly, before another smirk is directed at the pair. "Silarra had a turnday. She ain't a kid. Well, mostly ain't." It apparently doesn't matter /which/ turnday, only that one was had. "Don't know but she's got a kid's booze tolerance, so better watch what yer slippin' her, now."
"I did! So I'm a /whole/ turn older." Silarra states with another drink from her beer, swirling the contents around idly. She won't mention that she's still more than a sevenday younger than Gabe. "I'm all grown up! Or something like that. And might not be a kid's tolerance. Might just be the tolerance of someone who isn't your size." Silarra adds towards Z'yi before she looks to Taikrin. "Outlast him? Drive him crazy by succeeding or being better at something riderly than he is?"
"What she said," Z'yi states, gesturing towards Silarra. "And I will. Someday." He gestures for the bartender again, this time a little blonde thing with a nice... shirt and deft, quick fingers. She brings another round for the pair, and he pays his bill with a little, inclusive smile for the girl. Eventually: "You two, try not to get too shitfaced. Or have your dragons bespeak Isforaith if you do. But I..." and he sways on his feet once, before stabilizing, "Am going to go to bed." Firmly. He pats the both of them on the head as he passes, too, like one would little children. Such a patronizing twit, ain't he?
Z'yi has left.
With one swift motion Taikrin shoots the remainder of her brandy, slamming the glass down onto the table with perhaps more force than strictly necessary. "Yeah, I dunno. Don't want t'think about it. So-- let's not!" And she proceeds to not think about it by mock-scowling at Z'yi, and calling after him, "Yer just lucky I like yer booze so much!" Shaking her head, she focuses her attention on Silarra again, with that same devilish look. "So tell me-- who's got th'hottest ass in th'barracks?"
Silarra takes another sip of her beer as she considers that. "Y'sen maybe. Not sure I'd really want to do more than look with that one though." Silarra states. She's quickly becoming more relaxed and willing to participate in more drinking and gossip. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe Liniath just fell asleep. Whatever it is, she'll manage not to stalk out angrily for once, instead weaving slightly when she finally goes, a smile on her face.
Summary: The Snowasis is the best place ever. Z'yi is the best bluerider ever. Beer and brandy are the best drinks ever!
NorCon MUSH - 5/1/2010
----------------------
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#555RJ)
The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
Contents:
Silarra
Z'yi
Obvious exits:
Hallway Patio Ledge
It is a summer night, 21:29 of day 18, month 8, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Balmy summer nights. They exist. Elsewhere. Here in High Reaches, though, the best impression of 'balmy' that can be found is the late-night Snowasis: all that body heat, man. Z'yi can be found at a back table, nursing a beverage which is rather interestingly /not/ straight whiskey nor a tall ale; instead, it appears to be some combination of fruit juice and liquor, perhaps, due to the pale peach coloration. His dark eyes examine individuals scattered about the bar with surprising thoroughness, the visual inquisition mercilessly chowing through the crowds. He could be looking for someone, perhaps; but it seems, somehow, less likely.
While discretion is not usually a trait associated with Taikrin, she /can/ be subtle when the mood strikes. Such as now: despite the relaxation of the rules surrounding weyrlings and alcohol, her few visits to the Snowasis have been characterized by a quiet, low-key demeanor. She slips in from the patio, gaze somewhat downcast, and swiftly threads her way through the nighttime occupants to head straight for the bar. It takes only a moment to catch the bartender's eye, and just a moment more before a tall mug of a reddish, frothy beer is set before her, eliciting a quiet, "Thanks," and a big gulp of delicious liquid sustenence.
Silarra makes her way in, hands tucked down into the pockets of her pants. She freezes for a second at the door to glance around, but then the weyrling is angling towards the bar, biting her lower lip as the teenager makes her way through the people. "Taikrin." She greets, spotting the fellow weyrling at the bar.
Z'yi's eyes fall upon Silarra and Taikrin, something of amusement touching very vaguely at the corners of his eyes. The big man doesn't make to move, watching the interplay between the two in lieu of continuing his tactical assessment of the Snowasis' denizens.
Taikrin doesn't /quite/ jump halfway to the ceiling when Silarra calls her name, but it's a near thing. As it is, beer sloshes over her hand, and the look she gives Silarra is startled, to say the least. "Oh--- uh. Hey." Nervousness is masked with another fortifying gulp of beer, after which she's even able to summon a lopsided smile. "'Sup? Havin' a bit of somethin', too?"
Silarra doesn't seem to notice Z'yi yet. She's too busy smirking over Taikrin's jumping. The younger woman makes her way up to lean forward against the bar considering it. "Yeah. Don't really drink, but thought I'd try. Maybe it's just what I need to relax." That last bit is accompanied with a shrug and a very dry tone.
Z'yi is a dirty old man. Carry on.
"Beer's good, if y'just want a little somethin'. Ain't real strong, this'n." The mostly-full glass is indicated for Silarra, even as Taikrin is taking another sip. "Ain't much better, y'know? Takes th'edge off." She leans against the bar, then, raising a hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Y'had /anythin'/ lately? Y'sure Liniath's gonna be okay with it?"
Silarra looks over to the bartender. "Beer, then. Thanks." She'll take Taikrin's advice in that, turning to look around the room for a moment, her eyes catching on Z'yi before they move on. "Have had anything since I impressed. And Liniath can just deal with it. Maybe it'll give her a reason to be quiet." Silarra grumbles that last bit before she adds. "I think she's beyond freaking out over every little thing and then sharing embarrassing things with /everyone/."
A bartender pops up next to the two girls with two small glasses filled with a liquid of dubious nature: Bitran brandy, strong enough to scald paint from wood, topped with a cute little floater of some anonymous fruit juice. "From the bluerider," he announces, gesturing into the corner where Z'yi sits - and toasts the pair with his own glass, evidently a much larger version of the shot that they've been bestowed with.
"I dunno, even Szad got a little weird, first time I got a buzz." Taikrin turns as well, leaning with her back against the bar. "An' he's pretty chill about this stuff, y'know? Y'know what it's like enough t'warn her? Or I can tell Szad to, if y'want." An eyebrow is quirked at the green weyrling, accompanied by a teasing grin. "Don't want her freakin' out an' getting all our privs yanked, y'know?" And then there's a bartender and Taikrin is slopping beer all over her hand /again/. Muttering something about putting bells on people, she still manages to summon a grateful smile for the bartender. Upon turning to spot Z'yi, though, it grows into something quite a bit more devious. "Oh, awesome!" New brandy glass is raised in salute to the bluerider. "That man is the /best/."
Silarra looks down to the strong drink warily. "Told her about it already. Liniath is, uh, I have no idea really about how she'll react to anything, to be honest. She's pretty happy and chilled out at the moment though. Catching me up on the day's gossip. Again." Silarra groans at that before she looks over to the newly arrived drink a bit warily. She lifts the little glass, sniffing at it, before she turns to look towards the bluerider. "Z'yi trying to get us drunk?"
Just because Z'yi takes Taikrin out drinking and whorin..er.. woman-chasing, doesn't make him /the best/. Really. The Snowdrift rider doesn't seem all too anxious to move, however. There's an indulgent look for Taikrin's deviousness, though, along with a much more innocent smile than normal - /gotta/ be fake - for Silarra's questioning glance.
Taikrin is now in heaven: she's got a beer in one hand and a brandy in the other, and the company's not too shabby. A sidelong look is directed at Silarra, and then she's nudging the girl and indicating Z'yi's table. "Hopefully! C'mon, let's go somewhere bit more private. Don't need nobody gossipin' 'bout weyrlings hangin' out at th'bar, y'know?" The tone is breezy, though there's a hint of wariness still in the gaze that scans the room. Nevertheless, she heads towards the bluerider's table with rather more saunter in her step than is strictly called for, and manages to flop herself into a chair without spilling more of the precious booze. "My hero, eh?! You know just what a girl needs after a long day."
Silarra collects her beer as well and trails after Taikrin. "I'm sure our class already has enough of a reputation without adding to it that we spend all our time at the bar." Silarra drawls before Z'yi gets a quick smile. "Trying to burn out my throat?" She asks over in a teasing tone with another sniff at that little glass.
"Well, what a girl /really/ needs after a long day," beat, "Is a good massage." Not, perhaps, what he'd say if he were only in the company of a select few of his wingmates. But Silarra is there, and thus he must temper his tongue. Or maybe not. Maybe he's not personally comfortable with crude language around any woman who isn't Ajatha. This is entirely possible. Z'yi squints a smile up to Silarra, and offers a shrug of big shoulders, unrepenting. "Consider it a congratulations drink on surviving weyrlinghood up until this point."
"Yeah, well reckon we--" Taikrin shoots a lazy smile up to Silarra, which quickly metamorphoses into a frown. "--do an' all-- but hey, you make sure y'take that /real/ slow, y'know? Little tiny sips. I ain't gonna /carry/ you back t'Liniath." But that's about all the protective concern Taikrin seems able to muster tonight, because with a one-shouldered shrug she returns her attention to Z'yi... along with that devious grin. "/Massage/, is it? No wonder yer tryin' t'get helpless weyrlings drunk if /that/ is how y'do it."
Silarra gives Z'yi a smirk as she slides in to take a seat. "Hey, you got me into all of this in the first place." She notes leaving the stronger drink aside, for now, to sip from her beer. "Think they'd notice if I ended up sleeping in here tonight?" Silarra asks with a sarcastic tone over to Taikrin before she gives Z'yi a quick look over. "Nah. If someone has to carry me back to Liniath, he could probably do it with one hand."
"Uh huh. I'm not talking about /that/ kind of massage. I was trying to keep the joke kid-friendly," Z'yi drawls with bemusement, leaning back in his chair as easy as you could please. "I'd carry you back," he assures Silarra. "Two-handed, even. Least I could do for 'getting you into' this whole eternal lug thing." The warmth of alcohol has burred his already deep tones, the physical evidence of a day's worth of drinking upon the bluerider. "Bet I could carry you both. One on each shoulder." So amiable, tonight. Must have been a restday.
Taikrin leans back in her chair, taking a pretty good sized sip from the brandy as she does so. "Yeah, yeah. Sure Silarra appreciates you keepin' th'joint classy." There's a moment of broody darkness as she comments, "Yeah, I bet F'reln'd scream his bloody head off sayin' I stoled you away or somethin'." But even the thought of the guard-weyrling can't stave off the happy-alcohol feeling for long: she's back to smirking at Z'yi only a moment later. "Like t'see you try it! I ain't got a broken arm, this time."
Silarra sticks her tongue out at Taikrin before she looks over to Z'yi, then pointedly around. "Kid-friendly? What for? /I/ don't see any kids in here." She sinks back against the back of the seat as she continues to sip at her beer. "It be worth it, just to see the look on that idiot F'reln's face."
"I'll punch F'reln in the face." It's said rather placidly, but with great feeling underneath that genteel facade-- it is generally understood that any who deign to mess with Taikrin (rather than the other way around) risks meeting a pair of very large, very trained fists. Taik is good people, and Isz looks after his own. To Silarra, there's another of those indulgent smiles. "Yeah, you're right, Gabe ain't here, is he."
"Yeah, wouldn't that be awesome. Dyin' t'give 'im a good one, y'know?" There's a long-suffering sigh exhaled into her drink as Taikrin takes a quick gulp. "Promised Leova I wouldn't, though. Gotta, uh... outsmart 'im. Or somethin'? Ain't real clear on th'details." Head is shaken, briefly, before another smirk is directed at the pair. "Silarra had a turnday. She ain't a kid. Well, mostly ain't." It apparently doesn't matter /which/ turnday, only that one was had. "Don't know but she's got a kid's booze tolerance, so better watch what yer slippin' her, now."
"I did! So I'm a /whole/ turn older." Silarra states with another drink from her beer, swirling the contents around idly. She won't mention that she's still more than a sevenday younger than Gabe. "I'm all grown up! Or something like that. And might not be a kid's tolerance. Might just be the tolerance of someone who isn't your size." Silarra adds towards Z'yi before she looks to Taikrin. "Outlast him? Drive him crazy by succeeding or being better at something riderly than he is?"
"What she said," Z'yi states, gesturing towards Silarra. "And I will. Someday." He gestures for the bartender again, this time a little blonde thing with a nice... shirt and deft, quick fingers. She brings another round for the pair, and he pays his bill with a little, inclusive smile for the girl. Eventually: "You two, try not to get too shitfaced. Or have your dragons bespeak Isforaith if you do. But I..." and he sways on his feet once, before stabilizing, "Am going to go to bed." Firmly. He pats the both of them on the head as he passes, too, like one would little children. Such a patronizing twit, ain't he?
Z'yi has left.
With one swift motion Taikrin shoots the remainder of her brandy, slamming the glass down onto the table with perhaps more force than strictly necessary. "Yeah, I dunno. Don't want t'think about it. So-- let's not!" And she proceeds to not think about it by mock-scowling at Z'yi, and calling after him, "Yer just lucky I like yer booze so much!" Shaking her head, she focuses her attention on Silarra again, with that same devilish look. "So tell me-- who's got th'hottest ass in th'barracks?"
Silarra takes another sip of her beer as she considers that. "Y'sen maybe. Not sure I'd really want to do more than look with that one though." Silarra states. She's quickly becoming more relaxed and willing to participate in more drinking and gossip. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe Liniath just fell asleep. Whatever it is, she'll manage not to stalk out angrily for once, instead weaving slightly when she finally goes, a smile on her face.