==== November 16, 2013
==== Mayte, Tuli, Teyaschianniarina, Andevai
==== Collecting for a drink in the Cantina, two riders and two Bazaarites chat about the population growth.

Who Mayte, Tuli, Teyaschianniarina, Andevai
What Collecting for a drink in the Cantina, two riders and two Bazaarites chat about the population growth.
When Eight months and 15 days until the 12th Pass
Where Dustbowl Cantina

Mayte4.jpg tuli-tired.jpg vai_icon2.png


Dustbowl Cantina
To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.

There's been some rumblings in the Bazaar that people are starting to come to the Weyr to seek food and shelter. There's even more rumblings that the slowly disappearing space is due to the kindness of oldtime riders who leave no one behind. In the end, what it means is, at least to one short-haired apprentice, is that it's getting harder and harder to find a table to drink at. Having made it safely to the bar, Mayte has nabbed a stool from someone who muttered something very uncomplimentary, and has a tall tankard of ale sitting in front of her. It's going down very slowly, a sip at a time while she surveys the crowd before her. At least no one's thrown a shotglass yet.

Here to prevent such actions as the saber-toss of shot glasses, Andevai holds his corner with a fair amount of ease. The confidence in the stance of his body, and the look in his eyes is enough to get most folk that stream around him to yield their space. Casual to a 'T', the bouncer's attire is nondescript at best in creams and tans that blend well with his caramel-dark coloring. The shiny black hair is effortlessly tousled but the jovial-devil-may-care look is gone from his expression. Dark eyes land on Mayte with her tall tankard of ale, though the boy offers just the barest of half-smiles before moving on. Don't worry, he's got this.

Speaking of the refugees being foisted off upon the Bazaar — here's one of the guilty parties in opening the flood gates! At least Tuli has the decency to look frazzled, a tired looking young woman in plain attire, her knot half hidden under the frizzled puffball that is her hair (for once left free of plaits or buns.) Seeing the crowded cantina, the goldrider hesitates a moment on the stoop, then squares her shoulders (and uses them to help her weave a path towards the bar.) At Mayte's side is where she draws to a halt, mostly because there's a bar there, she can't go any further. A gesture and a few mutters get her a barmaid scurrying for the woman's drink. While she waits, she looks. At Andevai first, briefly, then longer at Mayte. "Bit crowded in here," she comments, finally. "Idin't?"

Mayte sees Tuli long before she makes it to the bar and stops the hasty 'oh no, it's the weyrwoman' turn before it gets very far. Knee-jerk reaction and all, right? So Mayte turns to look at the evidently tired goldriding woman and nods a little, "Yeah. I waited half an hour to get even this spot." Prime selection that it is, and no one complained after the second kick to the shin when they tried to edge her off. Andevai is recognized in his corner, and gets a friendly nod and smile. See? Toldja I'd be back.

Squeezing through the crowd, Andevai migrates from his position by the door to take up space closer to the bar, namely to focus dark eyes on a pair of crafters that look like they're getting a touch to heated with one of the refugees. Tuli's noted, though his expression remains neutral. A polite, "Ma'am," is tossed her way (with a crazy-eye for the poof of hair perhaps). Once again, Mayte is on the receiving end of a two-finger'd salute and wave that morphs into a casual lean against the bar. "Apprentices don't gotcha down today, Vintner?"

Are spots at a premium? Probably; does Teya enter and start winding her way to the bar anyway? Yes. It's possible that she has high hopes there is someone there who will make room for her; it's possible that she just plans to use tired-polite charm and her knot to do the same. Either way: Teya is on the approach, wending her way through the crowd until she spots, "Tuli!" because Tuli is distinctive, and also, you know, her friend. She salutes, neat and clean, because she is in public … and then sidles. Just a little. A little fluffy-headed sidle.

Mayte waits a half an hour: her neighbor mysteriously decides to vamoose, and Tuli gets one in under a minute. Goldriders are going to be the first against the wall when the revolution comes. But for now the ways of the world reign supreme, and Tuli takes her pre-warmed seat just as her drink materializes. Luxury incarnate. Andevai's crazy-eye is ignored with the ease of much practice, as the woman sips her drink and — "Teya!" No salutes: Tuli is tired. But she does wave. And then, interest engaged by Andevai's overheard comment, promptly inquires: "Apprentices getting people down?"

Mayte doesn't even bat an eyelash when Tuli's seat magically becomes free because that's the way of the world - at least she didn't ask for Mayte's seat. When Teya makes her way up, the Vintner watches over the rim of her tankard curiously, but Andevai's question gets a grin in response, "Nope, not today. They were both working in other parts of the store," and Mayte's smug look totally screams that they're avoiding her. Explaining to Tuli, she continues, "I got splattered with fortified wine a couple of days ago by one of the other apprentices at the winestore." Heroically, Mayte doesn't cry a tear at spilt wine.

"— splattered enough to try and teach the baths a lesson with savage stripping," Andevai's tone bespeaks a teasing humor that's mirrored in his dark eyes. Tuli's seat and Teya's sudden appearance earn them both the tip of his head. The only diversion of his attention is one of the drunken refugees attempts to get a five-fingered discount on a barmaid's rear. That earns the swift retaliation and grappling with said refugee's hand that ends with all parties moving apart like the opposing magnet ends. However, it neatly means that the bouncer-boy's prevented from such frivolities as saluting. "It's rowdy in here tonight," idle opinion given once the messy business of ensuring the peace comes to a close.

"Was it on - purpose?" is Teya's interjection into the conversation, directed toward Mayte - oh, so she was paying attention. "The spilling, I mean." Old habits die hard: while she doesn't involve herself in the rowdiness, she watches it with a practiced eye and some anticipatory tension through the shoulders and the way she shifts her weight. When it settles thanks to Andevai's efficient dispatch, she settles as well, also accidental-habitual: beside and slightly behind Tuli rather than jockeying for a seat of her own. This pose has a lot of doing rather than saying, but the brownrider looks to be on the tired side of the perky/tired divide as well, today. Salutes nonwithstanding.

Tuli watches the refugee, dispatching thereof, with tired-eyed interest. "Rowdy indeed," she mutters. A hand lifts to her forehead, and she gives one temple a light massage. To Teya, but quite audible to those in the area around her, the young woman comments: "We'll have to try and hire more… competent… guardsmen." What? The Bazaar can't freak out if the guards are actually maintaining peace and order, right? No one will try to poison her over it? RIGHT? "It's only going to get worse before it gets better." What follows is a frustrated runner noise, because a tired Tuli is totally stiff with dignity, obviously. She makes a sour face before taking a drink, absently nodding at Mayte over the lip. "Oh. Well. That's not bad."

Mayte is not ashamed of her ability to shed clothes for the sake of a bath but she gives Andevai a pained little look and hisses, "Really?" Then the bouncer is off saving the peace, or at least the peace of Mayte's drink, so she looks back at Teya, shaking her head, "No, not deliberate. The one who did it is just… pretty terrible. At everything." A smart little smirk, "I balance him out by being pretty good." Mayte carefully doesn't append 'at everything' to the end of that, though. Sipping her ale again, Mayte asks Tuli, "Was it crowded like this, before? From when you came from?" There's a moment's pause as Mayte nearly says another 'w' word, but as Andevai returns to the conversation, Mayte gives him a little grin and lift of the glass.

Without remorse, Andevai's returning smile is full of mischief for Mayte's 'really?', though once installed back in his spot by the bar, the boy attempts a more serious mien. "Get worse? Are there more?" The question comes out just a touch incredulous for the smell of unwashed, drinking bodies is already ripe enough to give even the sidestreet a run for its money. Neat folk are few and far between. Tuli earns a look askance, though he wisely keeps his mouth shut when it comes to more guards. "What was Igen like?" From so long ago. Teyaschianniarina is included in this follow-up to Mayte's question, the boy's confidence overshadowed only by his curiosity.

"I could interview for you, again," Teya offers, and there is a quiet, earnest note in her expression that shades just a little bit less serious over, "or temporarily take up the knot again, while Ryglinath's out of the air." Her glance is steady, as it flicks over the crowd around them; it lingers only slightly over Tuli's drink, then away again. No poisonings on her watch, kay-o? 'kay. "There will be more," is weighted, tired, "because where else do they have to go?" Her lifted eyebrows are earnest again, inquiring. No, really, tell her. "Sometimes being terrible at everything helps you end up better at some things, later - maybe your splashy apprentice will get better with time?"

"Tempting, but." Tuli doesn't finish her response to Teya's offer, merely lifting her eyebrows. Her attention has drifted to Mayte and Andevai, brow puckering. It's to the latter she responds to first. "Almost certainly. Normally the Igen river caves are where the refugees go. The Weyr can't very well leave them in the desert without shelter." She shrugs. "We'll find a way to make do." Easy for her to say, her quarters aren't being taken over by Holdless. As for the other question… "Well." A pause. "I'm not from Igen, and I didn't know it all that well. But… of all the Weyrs, I think this one changed most. Not counting Southern, which is a new Weyr reusing an old name." There's a not-funny smile to accompany this statement. The goldrider takes a drink. "Bazaar wasn't here, back then. The abandoned caverns were the main caverns, and the ones used now were smaller, a side complex. It wasn't… crowded like this, either. Non-riders living at the Weyr were just Weyrfolk or Crafters. Not a whole little Hold's worth of merchants and laborers working for merchants."

Mayte rolls her eyes slightly at Andevai, followed by an unladylike snort, but she does turn to listen to Teya and Tuli's responses. The ale gets set down onto the bar for a moment and the Vintner ohs, "So that's what was in that huge dusty cavern…" but there's a shadow that crosses briefly over her face of memories better left for now, and onto brighter times: "There's no way to make that old place safe then, huh?" Drat, there goes another idea, but Mayte isn't giving up: "Maybe if people were really quiet…" Curiously, Mayte asks the hundred-mark question, "You're not from Igen, Before? Where were you?" As if realizing this could be pressing, Mayte still doesn't take it back. Inquiring minds want to know. Right, Andey?

Inquiring minds do want to know, and while the sharp look that the bouncer gives to both Teyaschianniarina and Tuli is full of curiosity, Andevai's job is more pressing. "If you'll excuse me, ladies." With a rakish, two-fingered salute, the boy's plunging into the roiling crowd that seems to be epicenter'd around two men: a refugee (dirty/bedraggled) and a clean-cut bazaar merchant. An age old argument is in play between two overly drunk men: women. The stage is set for a good, old-time brawl if it were not for Andevai. So while conversation is appealing, the boy's here to do a job. At least the ladies will get some good entertainment watching the near-fight and the booting out of angry men on their proverbial collective arse. Consider this Vai's exit, stage left. Though he's here, nursing a busted lip from one of the Cantina's many, pretty little barmaids. That he totally can't touch. Woe.

There's always that but, isn't there? The uptick of Teya's smile is small but genuine, uneven. "The lake wasn't here, either," she adds to the ways-Igen-has-changed conversation, but she reaches out to set her hand against Tuli's shoulder and squeeze, brief, at the passing mention of old-Southern. It's brief by necessity, because she drops her hand and shifts her stance slightly as yet another near-brawl breaks out. So it's while she tracks that that she answers, "High Reaches. I was born in, Impressed at." Probably would have died a part of, had she not come forward. There's something slightly displeased (maybe even distressed) in her expression over that, but it passes. "It's changed, too. Hard not to, I guess."

Tuli says nothing at Teya's comforting squeeze, but she leans into the touch, just a hair. And Mayte isn't left to wonder why, because the goldrider supplies, "Southern" as her place of birth, with a somber face. "But I Impressed at High Reaches. Used to be a Farmcrafter, got posted there." The sip she takes of her drink is a little longer than maybe absolutely necessary. She sighs. "As for the old caverns… we might have to look into whether any of them are still usable. I know the ones closest to Crater Lake won't be, but there might be some salvageable ones towards the front. If not that, we're going to have to start building onto the terraces in the Bazaar. It's awkward, the timing of this flooding on the river." Her mouth quirks, humorous-but-not-exactly. "At least it didn't do it after all the refugees were in there."

A drink and some entertainment: Mayte watches Andevai in appreciation for his ability to handle the situation but as that winds down and Andevai doesn't come back to chat, she turns back to Teya, "High Reaches… S'gotta be a lot hotter here then, right?" And then Tuli's reveal is met with wider eyes, "Like, the Southern that the people are at now?" But that might be a word too far, and the apprentice lets the subject drop, in favour of more immediate concerns: "And we can't put 'em in tents in the Hatching Sand Galleries…" Though there's a faintly curious tone; this could bear looking into…

"Used to be a guard, before," Teya adds, providing context for her earlier exchange with Tuli as well as the habitually-ready way she watches the ebb and flow of the crowd while they converse. There's also a bit of a grin there, self-directed; she was not always the most able of guards, but always the most earnest. "It's definitely hotter - the winter has some bite to it, though. But less snow." She considers, for a few moments, then directs back to Tuli, "K'ane and I started investigating the caverns - digging them out some, too - in our downtime, before. When I was Weyrsecond, and he was one of the assistant weyrlingmasters. I don't think either of us has had the chance more lately, but — I can get you my notes?" Of course Teya has NOTES.

"Of course you have notes." Tuli says, before cuffing Teya lightly on the shoulder. They are such bros. The diversion distracts her from Mayte's word-too-far of a question… or possibly the woman has simply opted to pretend to have missed it. She doesn't respond, anyway. Gulping down the rest of her drink, she shakes her head at the apprentice. "No, we can't. We've got a few roosting in the galleries while we find other places for them, but that won't work as a long-term solution; El is patient, but she's not that patient. It's wearing on her nerves." Freaking paparazzi, always up in her golden grill :( Setting her glass down, she starts to rise, shooting an apologetic smile at Mayte before gesturing for Teya to follow her. "You got time for showing me those notes now, by any chance?" In the hubbub, their conversation gradually fades, as they move away. "I was to get back to a few of the Bazaar bigwigs about expanding the terraces tomorrow, but if the old caverns could be used, then -"

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