Log: In which Taikrin kissed a girl and Jessek didn't like it
Date: Day 22, Month 4, Turn 25 of Interval 10
Summary: It's Glacier-time in the Snowasis! Poor Jessek. Taikrin is kind of a jerk. And then Tiriana shows up, and there's twice as much tough-chick going around as before. What's a poor guy to do?
NorCon MUSH - 3/25/2011
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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:
Jessek
Obvious exits:
Hallway Patio Ledge
It is a spring night, 23:18 of day 22, month 4, turn 25 of Interval 10.
It's late. Very late. Yet the bulky young man in one corner doesn't seem very sleepy as he keeps an eye on the room. Even if Jessek is off duty, it doesn't mean he mightn't still be useful if something were to happen. He's managed to rustle up a late supper, a mug of juice and a plate of rolls and roast, something simple and not too hard on the stomach. The waitresses are wiping off the tables as the Weyrfolk filter out, so the crowds are thin and intimate conversation much more feasible. Jess stretches his legs out beneath the table, stretching and rolling his head about on his shoulders with audible cricks of sound. He's the picture of lazy relaxation, and almost too big for the chair he occupies.
And it might have stayed a quiet night, too, if it weren't for those dratted late-night sweeps. A knot of Glacier riders, each more rugged-looking than the last, pushing through the vacating trickle of people. Their progress is marked by boisterous conversation, a good deal of it raunchy. An older rider amicably punches Taikrin's shoulder as she peels off from the group, the bulk making their way to a table by the bar and loudly demanding drinks. The brownrider herself, with a saucy smirk, proceeds to saunter up to a table with a pair of greenriding women. Before either can acknowledge her presence, Taikrin swings herself over to straddle the redhead's lap and proceeds to enthusiasticaly plant a couple kisses right through the older woman's protests.
Jessek couldn't even get a bite in his mouth. Shard it. The noise of the crowd draws his attention, and Jess sighs. This doesn't look good. And, because he's not on duty, he's not quite ready to move in and make sure things don't get out of hand before...well, before they get out of hand. He rises like looming thunder and moves toward the table, dark eyes narrowed on his target. "Hey!" he cries out, typically soft voice edged with steel. "Unless your brown is missing something in his skirts, rider, you can't claim he's proddy, so I /suggest/ you get off of her. /Now/." Taikrin has a lot of allies in the room, but it's clear that Jessek just doesn't give a hoot.
As Taikrin breaks off, her startled gaze darting around the room before zeroing in on Jessek, the other woman swats at Taikrin's stomach. The greenrider appears more exasperated than anything else, drawing a fist across her mouth and commenting to her snickering companion's amusement, "Faranth, don't you ever turn it down a little?" The brownrider proceeds to stand, still straddling the other woman -- who's now rolling her eyes -- and puts hands on her hips. "Oi, who made you guard of the bar and all its greenriders, eh? Y'got a problem or somethin'?" The rest of Glacier - at least those who are watching the show - appear pretty amused.
Jessek does not look amused, at all. "The owner," he replies simply, stopping next to the table and glaring down his somewhat smushed nose at both women. "Ma'am, if she's bothering you, I'll escort her out," he offers to the greenrider, arching a brow and looking amused by the prospect. "I don't care what she rides, or what she doesn't. I'll not have my customers mistreated and I /will/ make you get out if you can't.." He leans in and breathes out the last word, thumbs thrust into his waistline. "../behave/." He waits for a response from both, mouth set in a flat, disapproving scowl.
"What, seriously?!" Taikrin demands, glancing at the bar -- and the bartender who is studiously ignoring her -- with disbelief. "You don't know what the shells you gettin' yourself into, kid. Ain't nobody told you who I am?" The more irate the brownrider gets, the more amused her victim. She makes a show of considering Jessek's offer all the while stifling her growing smile. "So kind of you, dear. But I think Taikrin's done having her fun tonight, aren't you?" She smacks the brownrider's thigh, which at least encourages her to swing her leg off the greenrider, though Taikrin doesn't break her glare at Jessek or acknowledge the other woman, either.
Unmoved by the brownrider's indignation, Jessek remains a frowning mountain. "I don't give a dragon's swollen tail for who you are," he responds carelessly. "As long as you're here, in this bar, if you're causing a problem.." He gestures to the greenrider, "I will make sure it stops. She's not your piece of meat." This last he spits out with disgust, letting his distaste for the woman show plainly in his expression. "Now. Why don't you go off with your friends and have a good time, and leave the ladies be? I'll even buy you a drink." He gestures in the direction of the bar, the little vein throbbing in his forehead slowing its rhythm, though he's still a little red in the face from carefully contained anger.
Another swat, this time on her ass, disrupts the building stormclouds on Taikrin's face. "Oh, go get drunk already and let us have some /peace/ for once, will you?" the greenrider admonishes. Swallowing her anger, Taikrin makes a smile that's little more than bared teeth. "Yeah, whatever, Loni. I'll swing by later when we ain't got an audience." Eyerolls are exchanged all around at the brownrider's capitulation, but she /does/ move away. Even if it is at a swagger. "Y'must be new here, so I'll let this'n slide since y'don't know no better," she directs cockily to Jessek. "Reckon you can buy me a whiskey an' I'll let you know how things go down 'round here."
Relief. Jessek bows lightly in acquiesence, letting Taikrin lead the way without bothering himself again over the greenrider. As she doesn't seem that offended, there's no further need for him to remain. "Just let me retrieve my dinner and you can let me know all you like." He temporarily leaves her side, though he wastes no time in gathering up plate and cup, calling out for Taikrin to get her choice of whiskey from the bar. That voice can attain some hefty volume when it needs to.
There's a not-too-subltle exchanging of marks at the Glacier table, and quite a few disappointed faces: apparently they were expecting more sparks. There's still a chance, though! "Yeah, yeah, go ahead. You want somethin', kid?" Taikrin swaggers up to the bar, but her hands are still clenched in fists. The bartender is familiar enough that all it takes is a jerk of the brownrider's head for him to grab a certain bottle and go about pouring a drink while she settles herself atop a stool.
Jessek slides in next to Taikrin, giving his head a shake. "Nah. I don't drink in public." Being drunk in public is another matter. Ahem, but anyway. He stuffs some roast, smothered with gravy, into his mouth. At least he has manners..he chews with his mouth closed, and doesn't try to speak until he's swallowed what he's got. "I take it yonder chick is a semi-regular friend of yours?" If he notices the fists or the continuation of Taikrin's agitation, he doesn't let it phase him. Jess is hungry; food takes precedence. "That stuff's runner piss, by the way, don't know how you can stand it." He eyes her drink with a light frown. "Much better stuff available."
"Your loss," Taikrin shrugs, nonplussed by Jessek's refusal. /She/ will proceed to knock a good half the drink back in one pull, her enjoyment obvious. "Who, Loni? She's a greenrider, ain't she?" As if it were self-evident: Taikrin is special friends with /all/ the greenriders. "Yer barkin' up the wrong tree, though. Loni don't like guys, so you ain't gonna get in her pants pullin' stunts like that." She eyes Jessek over her glass, the cooly measuring quality at odds with her half-smirk. "Might get your ass handed back t'you though, so. Just how new are you, anyways? That y'ain't had your head broken yet?"
Faranth save us. "I've been around a while," Jess responds. He turns in his seat so that he can size up his present company. "If there's somebody tough enough to hand me my ass, then I probably deserve it m'lady." He dismisses the notion of dallying with a flick of a hand. "Trust me, she ain't my type, either." He has a sip of his juice, the picture of cool dignity. "I just got to do my job and make sure these Weyrfolk keep it in their pants. At least in the bar." He smirks. "You take your sketi outside and I don't really care one way or another. I don't play weyrhoppin'." He swipes a slice of bread through the gravy. "I also don't like my women pretending they got a bigger pair than I do. Your special friend don't count."
Jessek's self-assurance does earn a snort from Taikrin, and after she polishes off her drink she indulges in a rueful headshake. "Poor kid." Catching the bartender's eye, she indicates at her empty glass, then turns back to Jessek. "Who told you that's what you're supposed t'do? The whole point of /havin'/ the Snowasis is t'get drunk and have hookups," she lectures. That coldness remains in her gaze, all at odds with how she stretches back and up. "Who's pretendin'?"
"You can't be that buzzed yet," the bouncer drawls in return. His expression darkens ever so slightly. "And I'm not a kid, /girl/." His lip curls ever so slightly as he emphasizes the descriptive. "I'm here to keep the peace. And I'll do that however I please. I don't want to see two females slobbering on each other." He takes another sip of juice, at his ease. If any of the other riders in Taikrin's wing are glancing their way a bit too frequently, he's unaffected. No laps are being violated, so Jessek's content to let the wretch run her mouth.
There's a tic going in Taikrin's cheek, just below her right eye. She doesn't acknowledge it in any way, but it does give her half-smirk a nasty look. "Whatever. Guess you're fresh off mama's strings, so y'don't know how it is at th'Weyr. Let me tell you," she breaks off, briefly, when the bartender returns her filled glass, then leans in. "'Round these parts, me an' mine say what goes. You want to avoid a short hop between, you learn the rules." She pulls back to sip at her drink once more. "And if you're real smart, you'll learn t'like watching. Maybe you'll learn somethin'." Glacier? They've completely lost interest, and are indulging in a flurry of bets over an impromptu arm-wrestling bout.
Jessek grows very still, pausing just before having been about to take another bite. He sets down fork and meat, giving Taikrin an assessing look. "You want to avoid me making sure you never grind your crotch on that wher-faced nag of yours again, I suggest you figure out I don't follow any rules except my own." Well, his and K'del's. His voice is carefully low, and equally as cool. "If we can agree on that, I think we'll get along just fine. I'm nobody's stand in, slut." ...Day-amn.
Taikrin laughs. No, really, she throws her head back and lets it out, straight from the belly. That /does/ bring a few interested glances from the Glacier table, and one slightly more concerned from the just-departing greenriders, but Taikrin doesn't appear to notice. "You got balls, kid, I'll give you that one." Her gaze is anything but amused, though, and the hand that swipes across her mouth is fisted. "Ask around. I ain't bluffin'." The bartender drifts closer, ostensibly to collect some dirty glasses, but the warning in his stance is unmistakable. "Sure next time you see me, you're gonna be properly educated, like. Shame if I had t'do it myself." She grins, showing every off-white tooth in her head, and slips off her stool. "Blood's a pain t'get out of leathers, sure you understand."
Jessek doesn't share in the mirth. His dinner has gotten COLD. "Just try me, pet, and we'll see whose blood gets on the leathers." He gives her a (sarcastic) salute with two fingers. His eyes are not dismissive...instead, his expression says that he believes, and is warily respectful. Though by no means submissive. Not an easy one to break or shake. The young man picks up his juice and sips it. It's much more to his liking.
Taikrin offers a jaunty little wave of her own. "Mmm, yeah. Enjoy your dinner, kid. You need me, you know where to find me!" And then she'll pivot on her heel, deliberately turning her back to Jessek, and saunter off to rejoin her wingmates with a shouted insult to the pair currently wrestling.
Tiriana heads in from the patio ledge.
Tiriana has arrived.
Jessek decides it's okay for Taikrin to have the last word. And he does want to enjoy his dinner. Finally. He remains at the bar, eating as if they hadn't just been exchanging quiet threats. Can't let the villains know they're scary. It just ruins the whole day. The bartender takes the time to murmur something to Jessek, who gives his head a little shake. No, it's not that big a deal.
The relatively late hour and sparse population in the Snowasis make the Glacier table and its racuous activity stand out even more. There seems to be something of an impromptu arm-wrestling tournament taking place, complete with wildly flying insults and marks changing hands left and right. Distinct in the din can be made out, "... jealous of that big wet one I gave Loni! You believe that?" At a smug Taikrin's behest, a pair of riders swivel the gaze over to Jessek, then back again. "Poor kid, in over his head. I feel bad for 'im, really."
The Snowasis: not a place for the weak, the stupid, or the underage. Which is probably why Tiriana is without with the baby that's been her near-constant prop for, like, a turn now or something. No, really. She still swaggers in like she owns the place, though looking a little run-down as the hours drag on; and she positively flops into a chair at the bar by Jessek. Also, there is real live groaning to accompany the gesture.
Didn't mommy always say when the bullies pick on you, to ignore them? Anyway, it's good enough advice, and Jessek has been receiving /therapy/. He ignores the brownrider's ribbing, steadfastly forking food into his eating hole. He quirks a brow as another woman settles into the space just recently occupied. Hopefully she'll be better company, but Jess isn't paying for /her/ drinks, too. He's not made of marks, people. "Evening.." At least it's a good opportunity to put all of that therapy to work. "Sounds like you could /use/ a drink."
"Hey, it's the weyrwoman," the bluerider to Taikrin's right calls, nudging the brownrider in the ribs with his elbow. "Looks like your little buddy's making nice. This oughta be good." The brownrider finishes her drink, then leans down to mutter conspiratorily with the other two. A moment later she's sauntering back towards the bar, empty-handed, to belly right back up next to Tiriana. "'Nother round! That's like-- seven? No, eight! An' L'gin wants one of those weird pink whatever things y'all're makin'." On the same breath she turns a smile to Tiriana that shows off nearly every tooth in her head. "Evenin', weyrwoman."
"Or three," concludes Tiriana, with a sideways glance at Jessek. Fortunately, she doesn't have to even ask the bartender; he knows her well enough after all this time to just start making something and passing it over. Something strong and not-pink. Taikrin, for her part in all this, gets a suspicious look from the tired Weyrwoman, along with, "What kind of trouble are you causing tonight? Can't say as I ever saw it coming, but I'm not sure I'm ready for it tonight."
The scowl returns with Taikrin, but he /will/ finish his dinner. Having cleared out the meat, he stuffs the last of the bread into his mouth and leans on his elbows, tracing a finger around the rim of his mug. No one's screaming, bleeding, or breaking a chair over his head. It's a good night. Oh yeah, and he's not puking. There's another plus.
Given how often Taikrin protests her innocence, you'd think she'd be better at it. "What, me? Trouble? Ain't nothin' like it." There's still that huge grin, un-dimmed. If anything, it grows as she directs it to Jessek. "Finished out late sweeps, me and the guys're just grabbin' some drinks. Givin' our new friend here coupl'a lessons about Weyr life." Taikrin, the soul of consideration. "D'you know, he ain't never seen a girl kiss another girl before?"
Despite herself, the corners of Tiriana's mouth twitch a little at Taikrin's answer--right before her mouth outright drops at the last. "Wait, what?" she says, casting glances between the pair. "But guys like that. The straight ones, anyway. He /is/ straight, right? I gave up trying to tell after that W'chek debacle, although Iovniath still says we should've guessed. But she always says that when she's been wrong." A shrug.
"Your hearing's as lacking as your taste, pet.." Does Jessek really have to go over this again? "Said I don't care to see it." Pause. "Didn't say I've never been witness to it." But Jessek's had just about enough. He drains the rest of his juice. "If you have any problems, you better call someone else. I'm off," he reminds the bartender in passing. It's too late for this crap. "Not /all/ men like to see that, weyrwoman. Some of us prefer our bedmates one at a time." So saying, Jess retreats. Not quite hastily, but not dragging his feet, either. Freak nasty Weyr people. Yuck.
Jessek has left.
Taikrin doesn't even need to explain: she just gestures helplessly to Jessek as he makes his point, shrugging in a he's-so-cute sort of way. "I was pretty sure they did, too. Ain't never got no complaints, anyways. Guys, though." Another shrug, this one helpless, accompanied by that big grin. "You just think about what we talked about, okay kid?" she calls after the departing Jessek. The bartender gives her a /look/ as he drops off the first in the set of drinks, but Taikrin is happily oblivious. "Hope he weren't bothering you none."
"And some of us are cold fish," Tiriana snits after Jessek, with a smirk cast sideways at Taikrin. But the bouncer still earns himself a long look afterward, before she settles attention on her drink, her posture suddenly boneless when left in the company of the more familiar Taikrin. She doesn't even drink it yet, studying with with a faint downward pull at her mouth. "Him? Nah. I can handle assholes just fine, thanks," she answers the brownrider. "Although can't say as I'm particularly in the mood for having to tonight. Don't start too much trouble, okay? I hate it when everybody else is having fun without me."
One of the deposited glasses is snatched up at random, and Taikrin barely glances at it before taking a long pull at what appears to be a pale beer. "Wasn't lookin' for any trouble, but you know. Big hulking assholes tryin' to pick on people who're smaller? Kinda gets me goin'." She is, after all perfectly innocent in all this, and certainly hadn't been making a scene of herself just half an hour ago. "Gettin' too late for it, anyways. Don't know as how I'd do a good round of trouble much justice." Her grin moderates into something a little more natural -- and lopsided. "B'dan and G'shen are wrestling /again/, you interested in puttin' marks on 'em? Seventh time tonight, gotta break the tie." True enough, the ruckus at the Glacier table is centered around a couple of strapping young specimens pitting the right arms against each other.
"But you found it," finishes Tiriana, and shakes her head. She finally takes up her glass, though, and sips from it before turning to watch the commotion. "Late, right. I was supposed to be in bed already, but d'y'know, that /brat/--" and only said brat's mother could put quite so much frustration and pride into that particular title "--can walk now? Hell, I think I liked it better when him just laid there. Boring as hell, but." Beat. "No bet, but G'shen's got this. Just look at him." She gestures to back up that verdict. And while the match gets underway: "So, well. How's things, your world?"
"Brat." There's no hiding the way Taikrin's nose wrinkles: the very thought is anethema! "Shards. I'm sorry. He gettin' in the way, much? Ain't seen you down here, so much, lately." She leans back against the bar, ignoring the now-complete drink order that's piled up behind her. As to Tiriana's question, "Sure as shells ain't no kids in it. Been, you know. Quiet. More, uh, normal? Szad ain't followin' Iskiveth around every day anymore, at least." Though the brown /is/ still a relatively common sight hanging around the queen's ledge, he's also restarted his relentless pursuit of greens. "Just tryin' to keep our heads down, a little. You know?"
Tiriana's own nose does a matching maneuver, all snurled up and stuff. She squashes the expression with another drink. "R'uen says it's probably turnabout fair, considering me when I was a kid," she admits with a shrug. "He keeps saying we could find another nanny, a good one--" because they've been through several, no surprise there "--but Faranth knows, he /likes/ doing it all. And, well..." She lifts her shoulders, then moves on brusquely. "Faranth. That sounds sad. People like us shouldn't have to do that. The world should be keeping their heads down around /us/."
"Well, you know, figure we peaked, me an' Szad, after the hatching. Need some time to kick back, you know?" Because apparently winning a gold flight was the very pinnacle of their ambitions. Still, Taikrin shakes her head incomprehendingly, offering only, "Well, long as he's happy to take care of it, I guess? Ain't so much your problem." To that last, she even raises her glass in salute. "Flamin' right they oughta be keepin' their heads down."
"Iovniath says that's when you need to push hardest," is Tiriana's input on that. "You know. Never let 'em see you resting, shove it down their throats when they're expecting you to back off, all that. Course, that's not exactly how she words it, but that's the gist, anyway. And people think she's the nice one." It's always befuddled her, and it's in her voice now, that faint confusion. "Though I guess I don't always hold to that myself--who was he, exactly?" The Weyrwoman tilts her head after Jessek's departure, brows furrowing.
"I guess. Well. Feel like we're back in the swing of things now, anyways." Taikrin sips at her drink, ignoring the roar of triumph as G'shen does, indeed, emerge victorious. "Reckon that's why she's queen, though, bein' able to plot like she can. Me, I'm just happy with a good drink, you know?" She glances out the way Jessek had left, then shrugs. "Him?" Her voice is disinterested, despite the way her eyes narrow just a bit. "Guess he's to be a bouncer? Don't know why WE need one, but. Sure tryin' to act the part, anyways, throwin' his weight around where he ain't needed."
Tiriana agrees, "Probably," with a certain amounto f pride in her dragon's abilities. As for their departed comrade: "If he's going to try to throw out all the riffraff around here, s'not going to be anybody left to buy drinks. Besides, everybody around here can take care of themselves pretty well, and if you can't, well. You don't need to be starting shit. We'll set him straight." She cants one of her smug smirks at Taikrin then, of the sort that's been somewhat lacking around the place of late.
Taikrin is supremely confident in that, at least. "S'what I was thinkin'. Had a little talk with him, you know, to let him know how it is. This ain't like whatever little Hold he came from, and we don't need him doin' his little Hold thing at us just for havin' a little bit of a good time." Her chin jerks in a sharp nod, and she raises her glass once more. A couple of riders at the Glacier table have apparently grown tired of waiting, and have elected a bluerider to start collecting the drinks that have piled up behind Taikrin with all sorts of muttering complaints levelled at her back.
"Exactly," confirms the Weyrwoman. She takes another slow sip of her drink, too, but when the other riders approach, she sets it down and slides off her seat too. "Looks like they're getting antsy. Should let you get on with your trouble and all, I guess, and get on home myself." A eat. Tiriana casts a sideways glance at Taikrin then, before confiding, "It's not so bad, really. You know?" She almost looks sheepish for saying it, too, as she turns to take her leave.
"Yeah, they're lost without me," Taikrin breezes, elbowing he bluerider behind her /just so/ to irritate him without risking the precious drinks. "Reckon I ought to take these over there." She manages to grab two mugs per hand, one of which she raises at Tiriana. "If you say so. Have a good night, y'know? Hope there's no, uh, screaming, or whatever they do." A little dubious, but heartfelt!
Summary: It's Glacier-time in the Snowasis! Poor Jessek. Taikrin is kind of a jerk. And then Tiriana shows up, and there's twice as much tough-chick going around as before. What's a poor guy to do?
NorCon MUSH - 3/25/2011
-----------------------
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:
Jessek
Obvious exits:
Hallway Patio Ledge
It is a spring night, 23:18 of day 22, month 4, turn 25 of Interval 10.
It's late. Very late. Yet the bulky young man in one corner doesn't seem very sleepy as he keeps an eye on the room. Even if Jessek is off duty, it doesn't mean he mightn't still be useful if something were to happen. He's managed to rustle up a late supper, a mug of juice and a plate of rolls and roast, something simple and not too hard on the stomach. The waitresses are wiping off the tables as the Weyrfolk filter out, so the crowds are thin and intimate conversation much more feasible. Jess stretches his legs out beneath the table, stretching and rolling his head about on his shoulders with audible cricks of sound. He's the picture of lazy relaxation, and almost too big for the chair he occupies.
And it might have stayed a quiet night, too, if it weren't for those dratted late-night sweeps. A knot of Glacier riders, each more rugged-looking than the last, pushing through the vacating trickle of people. Their progress is marked by boisterous conversation, a good deal of it raunchy. An older rider amicably punches Taikrin's shoulder as she peels off from the group, the bulk making their way to a table by the bar and loudly demanding drinks. The brownrider herself, with a saucy smirk, proceeds to saunter up to a table with a pair of greenriding women. Before either can acknowledge her presence, Taikrin swings herself over to straddle the redhead's lap and proceeds to enthusiasticaly plant a couple kisses right through the older woman's protests.
Jessek couldn't even get a bite in his mouth. Shard it. The noise of the crowd draws his attention, and Jess sighs. This doesn't look good. And, because he's not on duty, he's not quite ready to move in and make sure things don't get out of hand before...well, before they get out of hand. He rises like looming thunder and moves toward the table, dark eyes narrowed on his target. "Hey!" he cries out, typically soft voice edged with steel. "Unless your brown is missing something in his skirts, rider, you can't claim he's proddy, so I /suggest/ you get off of her. /Now/." Taikrin has a lot of allies in the room, but it's clear that Jessek just doesn't give a hoot.
As Taikrin breaks off, her startled gaze darting around the room before zeroing in on Jessek, the other woman swats at Taikrin's stomach. The greenrider appears more exasperated than anything else, drawing a fist across her mouth and commenting to her snickering companion's amusement, "Faranth, don't you ever turn it down a little?" The brownrider proceeds to stand, still straddling the other woman -- who's now rolling her eyes -- and puts hands on her hips. "Oi, who made you guard of the bar and all its greenriders, eh? Y'got a problem or somethin'?" The rest of Glacier - at least those who are watching the show - appear pretty amused.
Jessek does not look amused, at all. "The owner," he replies simply, stopping next to the table and glaring down his somewhat smushed nose at both women. "Ma'am, if she's bothering you, I'll escort her out," he offers to the greenrider, arching a brow and looking amused by the prospect. "I don't care what she rides, or what she doesn't. I'll not have my customers mistreated and I /will/ make you get out if you can't.." He leans in and breathes out the last word, thumbs thrust into his waistline. "../behave/." He waits for a response from both, mouth set in a flat, disapproving scowl.
"What, seriously?!" Taikrin demands, glancing at the bar -- and the bartender who is studiously ignoring her -- with disbelief. "You don't know what the shells you gettin' yourself into, kid. Ain't nobody told you who I am?" The more irate the brownrider gets, the more amused her victim. She makes a show of considering Jessek's offer all the while stifling her growing smile. "So kind of you, dear. But I think Taikrin's done having her fun tonight, aren't you?" She smacks the brownrider's thigh, which at least encourages her to swing her leg off the greenrider, though Taikrin doesn't break her glare at Jessek or acknowledge the other woman, either.
Unmoved by the brownrider's indignation, Jessek remains a frowning mountain. "I don't give a dragon's swollen tail for who you are," he responds carelessly. "As long as you're here, in this bar, if you're causing a problem.." He gestures to the greenrider, "I will make sure it stops. She's not your piece of meat." This last he spits out with disgust, letting his distaste for the woman show plainly in his expression. "Now. Why don't you go off with your friends and have a good time, and leave the ladies be? I'll even buy you a drink." He gestures in the direction of the bar, the little vein throbbing in his forehead slowing its rhythm, though he's still a little red in the face from carefully contained anger.
Another swat, this time on her ass, disrupts the building stormclouds on Taikrin's face. "Oh, go get drunk already and let us have some /peace/ for once, will you?" the greenrider admonishes. Swallowing her anger, Taikrin makes a smile that's little more than bared teeth. "Yeah, whatever, Loni. I'll swing by later when we ain't got an audience." Eyerolls are exchanged all around at the brownrider's capitulation, but she /does/ move away. Even if it is at a swagger. "Y'must be new here, so I'll let this'n slide since y'don't know no better," she directs cockily to Jessek. "Reckon you can buy me a whiskey an' I'll let you know how things go down 'round here."
Relief. Jessek bows lightly in acquiesence, letting Taikrin lead the way without bothering himself again over the greenrider. As she doesn't seem that offended, there's no further need for him to remain. "Just let me retrieve my dinner and you can let me know all you like." He temporarily leaves her side, though he wastes no time in gathering up plate and cup, calling out for Taikrin to get her choice of whiskey from the bar. That voice can attain some hefty volume when it needs to.
There's a not-too-subltle exchanging of marks at the Glacier table, and quite a few disappointed faces: apparently they were expecting more sparks. There's still a chance, though! "Yeah, yeah, go ahead. You want somethin', kid?" Taikrin swaggers up to the bar, but her hands are still clenched in fists. The bartender is familiar enough that all it takes is a jerk of the brownrider's head for him to grab a certain bottle and go about pouring a drink while she settles herself atop a stool.
Jessek slides in next to Taikrin, giving his head a shake. "Nah. I don't drink in public." Being drunk in public is another matter. Ahem, but anyway. He stuffs some roast, smothered with gravy, into his mouth. At least he has manners..he chews with his mouth closed, and doesn't try to speak until he's swallowed what he's got. "I take it yonder chick is a semi-regular friend of yours?" If he notices the fists or the continuation of Taikrin's agitation, he doesn't let it phase him. Jess is hungry; food takes precedence. "That stuff's runner piss, by the way, don't know how you can stand it." He eyes her drink with a light frown. "Much better stuff available."
"Your loss," Taikrin shrugs, nonplussed by Jessek's refusal. /She/ will proceed to knock a good half the drink back in one pull, her enjoyment obvious. "Who, Loni? She's a greenrider, ain't she?" As if it were self-evident: Taikrin is special friends with /all/ the greenriders. "Yer barkin' up the wrong tree, though. Loni don't like guys, so you ain't gonna get in her pants pullin' stunts like that." She eyes Jessek over her glass, the cooly measuring quality at odds with her half-smirk. "Might get your ass handed back t'you though, so. Just how new are you, anyways? That y'ain't had your head broken yet?"
Faranth save us. "I've been around a while," Jess responds. He turns in his seat so that he can size up his present company. "If there's somebody tough enough to hand me my ass, then I probably deserve it m'lady." He dismisses the notion of dallying with a flick of a hand. "Trust me, she ain't my type, either." He has a sip of his juice, the picture of cool dignity. "I just got to do my job and make sure these Weyrfolk keep it in their pants. At least in the bar." He smirks. "You take your sketi outside and I don't really care one way or another. I don't play weyrhoppin'." He swipes a slice of bread through the gravy. "I also don't like my women pretending they got a bigger pair than I do. Your special friend don't count."
Jessek's self-assurance does earn a snort from Taikrin, and after she polishes off her drink she indulges in a rueful headshake. "Poor kid." Catching the bartender's eye, she indicates at her empty glass, then turns back to Jessek. "Who told you that's what you're supposed t'do? The whole point of /havin'/ the Snowasis is t'get drunk and have hookups," she lectures. That coldness remains in her gaze, all at odds with how she stretches back and up. "Who's pretendin'?"
"You can't be that buzzed yet," the bouncer drawls in return. His expression darkens ever so slightly. "And I'm not a kid, /girl/." His lip curls ever so slightly as he emphasizes the descriptive. "I'm here to keep the peace. And I'll do that however I please. I don't want to see two females slobbering on each other." He takes another sip of juice, at his ease. If any of the other riders in Taikrin's wing are glancing their way a bit too frequently, he's unaffected. No laps are being violated, so Jessek's content to let the wretch run her mouth.
There's a tic going in Taikrin's cheek, just below her right eye. She doesn't acknowledge it in any way, but it does give her half-smirk a nasty look. "Whatever. Guess you're fresh off mama's strings, so y'don't know how it is at th'Weyr. Let me tell you," she breaks off, briefly, when the bartender returns her filled glass, then leans in. "'Round these parts, me an' mine say what goes. You want to avoid a short hop between, you learn the rules." She pulls back to sip at her drink once more. "And if you're real smart, you'll learn t'like watching. Maybe you'll learn somethin'." Glacier? They've completely lost interest, and are indulging in a flurry of bets over an impromptu arm-wrestling bout.
Jessek grows very still, pausing just before having been about to take another bite. He sets down fork and meat, giving Taikrin an assessing look. "You want to avoid me making sure you never grind your crotch on that wher-faced nag of yours again, I suggest you figure out I don't follow any rules except my own." Well, his and K'del's. His voice is carefully low, and equally as cool. "If we can agree on that, I think we'll get along just fine. I'm nobody's stand in, slut." ...Day-amn.
Taikrin laughs. No, really, she throws her head back and lets it out, straight from the belly. That /does/ bring a few interested glances from the Glacier table, and one slightly more concerned from the just-departing greenriders, but Taikrin doesn't appear to notice. "You got balls, kid, I'll give you that one." Her gaze is anything but amused, though, and the hand that swipes across her mouth is fisted. "Ask around. I ain't bluffin'." The bartender drifts closer, ostensibly to collect some dirty glasses, but the warning in his stance is unmistakable. "Sure next time you see me, you're gonna be properly educated, like. Shame if I had t'do it myself." She grins, showing every off-white tooth in her head, and slips off her stool. "Blood's a pain t'get out of leathers, sure you understand."
Jessek doesn't share in the mirth. His dinner has gotten COLD. "Just try me, pet, and we'll see whose blood gets on the leathers." He gives her a (sarcastic) salute with two fingers. His eyes are not dismissive...instead, his expression says that he believes, and is warily respectful. Though by no means submissive. Not an easy one to break or shake. The young man picks up his juice and sips it. It's much more to his liking.
Taikrin offers a jaunty little wave of her own. "Mmm, yeah. Enjoy your dinner, kid. You need me, you know where to find me!" And then she'll pivot on her heel, deliberately turning her back to Jessek, and saunter off to rejoin her wingmates with a shouted insult to the pair currently wrestling.
Tiriana heads in from the patio ledge.
Tiriana has arrived.
Jessek decides it's okay for Taikrin to have the last word. And he does want to enjoy his dinner. Finally. He remains at the bar, eating as if they hadn't just been exchanging quiet threats. Can't let the villains know they're scary. It just ruins the whole day. The bartender takes the time to murmur something to Jessek, who gives his head a little shake. No, it's not that big a deal.
The relatively late hour and sparse population in the Snowasis make the Glacier table and its racuous activity stand out even more. There seems to be something of an impromptu arm-wrestling tournament taking place, complete with wildly flying insults and marks changing hands left and right. Distinct in the din can be made out, "... jealous of that big wet one I gave Loni! You believe that?" At a smug Taikrin's behest, a pair of riders swivel the gaze over to Jessek, then back again. "Poor kid, in over his head. I feel bad for 'im, really."
The Snowasis: not a place for the weak, the stupid, or the underage. Which is probably why Tiriana is without with the baby that's been her near-constant prop for, like, a turn now or something. No, really. She still swaggers in like she owns the place, though looking a little run-down as the hours drag on; and she positively flops into a chair at the bar by Jessek. Also, there is real live groaning to accompany the gesture.
Didn't mommy always say when the bullies pick on you, to ignore them? Anyway, it's good enough advice, and Jessek has been receiving /therapy/. He ignores the brownrider's ribbing, steadfastly forking food into his eating hole. He quirks a brow as another woman settles into the space just recently occupied. Hopefully she'll be better company, but Jess isn't paying for /her/ drinks, too. He's not made of marks, people. "Evening.." At least it's a good opportunity to put all of that therapy to work. "Sounds like you could /use/ a drink."
"Hey, it's the weyrwoman," the bluerider to Taikrin's right calls, nudging the brownrider in the ribs with his elbow. "Looks like your little buddy's making nice. This oughta be good." The brownrider finishes her drink, then leans down to mutter conspiratorily with the other two. A moment later she's sauntering back towards the bar, empty-handed, to belly right back up next to Tiriana. "'Nother round! That's like-- seven? No, eight! An' L'gin wants one of those weird pink whatever things y'all're makin'." On the same breath she turns a smile to Tiriana that shows off nearly every tooth in her head. "Evenin', weyrwoman."
"Or three," concludes Tiriana, with a sideways glance at Jessek. Fortunately, she doesn't have to even ask the bartender; he knows her well enough after all this time to just start making something and passing it over. Something strong and not-pink. Taikrin, for her part in all this, gets a suspicious look from the tired Weyrwoman, along with, "What kind of trouble are you causing tonight? Can't say as I ever saw it coming, but I'm not sure I'm ready for it tonight."
The scowl returns with Taikrin, but he /will/ finish his dinner. Having cleared out the meat, he stuffs the last of the bread into his mouth and leans on his elbows, tracing a finger around the rim of his mug. No one's screaming, bleeding, or breaking a chair over his head. It's a good night. Oh yeah, and he's not puking. There's another plus.
Given how often Taikrin protests her innocence, you'd think she'd be better at it. "What, me? Trouble? Ain't nothin' like it." There's still that huge grin, un-dimmed. If anything, it grows as she directs it to Jessek. "Finished out late sweeps, me and the guys're just grabbin' some drinks. Givin' our new friend here coupl'a lessons about Weyr life." Taikrin, the soul of consideration. "D'you know, he ain't never seen a girl kiss another girl before?"
Despite herself, the corners of Tiriana's mouth twitch a little at Taikrin's answer--right before her mouth outright drops at the last. "Wait, what?" she says, casting glances between the pair. "But guys like that. The straight ones, anyway. He /is/ straight, right? I gave up trying to tell after that W'chek debacle, although Iovniath still says we should've guessed. But she always says that when she's been wrong." A shrug.
"Your hearing's as lacking as your taste, pet.." Does Jessek really have to go over this again? "Said I don't care to see it." Pause. "Didn't say I've never been witness to it." But Jessek's had just about enough. He drains the rest of his juice. "If you have any problems, you better call someone else. I'm off," he reminds the bartender in passing. It's too late for this crap. "Not /all/ men like to see that, weyrwoman. Some of us prefer our bedmates one at a time." So saying, Jess retreats. Not quite hastily, but not dragging his feet, either. Freak nasty Weyr people. Yuck.
Jessek has left.
Taikrin doesn't even need to explain: she just gestures helplessly to Jessek as he makes his point, shrugging in a he's-so-cute sort of way. "I was pretty sure they did, too. Ain't never got no complaints, anyways. Guys, though." Another shrug, this one helpless, accompanied by that big grin. "You just think about what we talked about, okay kid?" she calls after the departing Jessek. The bartender gives her a /look/ as he drops off the first in the set of drinks, but Taikrin is happily oblivious. "Hope he weren't bothering you none."
"And some of us are cold fish," Tiriana snits after Jessek, with a smirk cast sideways at Taikrin. But the bouncer still earns himself a long look afterward, before she settles attention on her drink, her posture suddenly boneless when left in the company of the more familiar Taikrin. She doesn't even drink it yet, studying with with a faint downward pull at her mouth. "Him? Nah. I can handle assholes just fine, thanks," she answers the brownrider. "Although can't say as I'm particularly in the mood for having to tonight. Don't start too much trouble, okay? I hate it when everybody else is having fun without me."
One of the deposited glasses is snatched up at random, and Taikrin barely glances at it before taking a long pull at what appears to be a pale beer. "Wasn't lookin' for any trouble, but you know. Big hulking assholes tryin' to pick on people who're smaller? Kinda gets me goin'." She is, after all perfectly innocent in all this, and certainly hadn't been making a scene of herself just half an hour ago. "Gettin' too late for it, anyways. Don't know as how I'd do a good round of trouble much justice." Her grin moderates into something a little more natural -- and lopsided. "B'dan and G'shen are wrestling /again/, you interested in puttin' marks on 'em? Seventh time tonight, gotta break the tie." True enough, the ruckus at the Glacier table is centered around a couple of strapping young specimens pitting the right arms against each other.
"But you found it," finishes Tiriana, and shakes her head. She finally takes up her glass, though, and sips from it before turning to watch the commotion. "Late, right. I was supposed to be in bed already, but d'y'know, that /brat/--" and only said brat's mother could put quite so much frustration and pride into that particular title "--can walk now? Hell, I think I liked it better when him just laid there. Boring as hell, but." Beat. "No bet, but G'shen's got this. Just look at him." She gestures to back up that verdict. And while the match gets underway: "So, well. How's things, your world?"
"Brat." There's no hiding the way Taikrin's nose wrinkles: the very thought is anethema! "Shards. I'm sorry. He gettin' in the way, much? Ain't seen you down here, so much, lately." She leans back against the bar, ignoring the now-complete drink order that's piled up behind her. As to Tiriana's question, "Sure as shells ain't no kids in it. Been, you know. Quiet. More, uh, normal? Szad ain't followin' Iskiveth around every day anymore, at least." Though the brown /is/ still a relatively common sight hanging around the queen's ledge, he's also restarted his relentless pursuit of greens. "Just tryin' to keep our heads down, a little. You know?"
Tiriana's own nose does a matching maneuver, all snurled up and stuff. She squashes the expression with another drink. "R'uen says it's probably turnabout fair, considering me when I was a kid," she admits with a shrug. "He keeps saying we could find another nanny, a good one--" because they've been through several, no surprise there "--but Faranth knows, he /likes/ doing it all. And, well..." She lifts her shoulders, then moves on brusquely. "Faranth. That sounds sad. People like us shouldn't have to do that. The world should be keeping their heads down around /us/."
"Well, you know, figure we peaked, me an' Szad, after the hatching. Need some time to kick back, you know?" Because apparently winning a gold flight was the very pinnacle of their ambitions. Still, Taikrin shakes her head incomprehendingly, offering only, "Well, long as he's happy to take care of it, I guess? Ain't so much your problem." To that last, she even raises her glass in salute. "Flamin' right they oughta be keepin' their heads down."
"Iovniath says that's when you need to push hardest," is Tiriana's input on that. "You know. Never let 'em see you resting, shove it down their throats when they're expecting you to back off, all that. Course, that's not exactly how she words it, but that's the gist, anyway. And people think she's the nice one." It's always befuddled her, and it's in her voice now, that faint confusion. "Though I guess I don't always hold to that myself--who was he, exactly?" The Weyrwoman tilts her head after Jessek's departure, brows furrowing.
"I guess. Well. Feel like we're back in the swing of things now, anyways." Taikrin sips at her drink, ignoring the roar of triumph as G'shen does, indeed, emerge victorious. "Reckon that's why she's queen, though, bein' able to plot like she can. Me, I'm just happy with a good drink, you know?" She glances out the way Jessek had left, then shrugs. "Him?" Her voice is disinterested, despite the way her eyes narrow just a bit. "Guess he's to be a bouncer? Don't know why WE need one, but. Sure tryin' to act the part, anyways, throwin' his weight around where he ain't needed."
Tiriana agrees, "Probably," with a certain amounto f pride in her dragon's abilities. As for their departed comrade: "If he's going to try to throw out all the riffraff around here, s'not going to be anybody left to buy drinks. Besides, everybody around here can take care of themselves pretty well, and if you can't, well. You don't need to be starting shit. We'll set him straight." She cants one of her smug smirks at Taikrin then, of the sort that's been somewhat lacking around the place of late.
Taikrin is supremely confident in that, at least. "S'what I was thinkin'. Had a little talk with him, you know, to let him know how it is. This ain't like whatever little Hold he came from, and we don't need him doin' his little Hold thing at us just for havin' a little bit of a good time." Her chin jerks in a sharp nod, and she raises her glass once more. A couple of riders at the Glacier table have apparently grown tired of waiting, and have elected a bluerider to start collecting the drinks that have piled up behind Taikrin with all sorts of muttering complaints levelled at her back.
"Exactly," confirms the Weyrwoman. She takes another slow sip of her drink, too, but when the other riders approach, she sets it down and slides off her seat too. "Looks like they're getting antsy. Should let you get on with your trouble and all, I guess, and get on home myself." A eat. Tiriana casts a sideways glance at Taikrin then, before confiding, "It's not so bad, really. You know?" She almost looks sheepish for saying it, too, as she turns to take her leave.
"Yeah, they're lost without me," Taikrin breezes, elbowing he bluerider behind her /just so/ to irritate him without risking the precious drinks. "Reckon I ought to take these over there." She manages to grab two mugs per hand, one of which she raises at Tiriana. "If you say so. Have a good night, y'know? Hope there's no, uh, screaming, or whatever they do." A little dubious, but heartfelt!