====September 6, 2013
==== Mayte, A'lory
====A'lory approaches Mayte with a possibility.

Who Mayte, A'lory
What During a lunchtime visit to the Corks and Works, A'lory passes on a request.
When One Turn, one month, and 20 days until the 12th Pass
Where Corks and Works


Corks and Works Wineshop
Day or night, this shop is well lit on the inside, by day with Rukbat's beams, and by night by the grace of many glowbaskets that are very liberally used to maintain lighting. When a chance is gained to look about the shop, one easily sees why - there are shelves upon shelves of wine here. The perimeter of the wine shop is lined by shelves four high, and each shelf is carefully stacked just short of bursting with wine of various vintages, regions, sweet or bitterness, and even more importantly, price. But lo, wine is not the only thing to be found on the shelves here - one wall is dedicated to other liquors, from ale to brandy to vodka, and many in between. A carefully written sign nearby says, 'if you don't see what you're looking for, let us know!' There are also a couple of shelves on the wall of the main door, dedicated to things not of vintner make. Although they are bare at the moment, a portable chalkboard plaque says, 'Sienna's Cheeses'.
Even the wall behind the counter has wine bottles on it, but it's the counter itself that is more of note. Approximately four feet high, there are wine bottles underneath as well - empty ones this time, as if to display the wines that have passed through here in the past. Many of which are highly remarkable in either name or vintage. The top of the counter is typically kept clean and polished to shine. A heavy book for keeping track of sales is atop the counter, as well as a stylus for writing with, and an inkwell. One of the shelves behind the counter has been reserved for clean wine glasses, and there is a tub for dirty glasses beneath it; next to it are small clothe bags with the shop's name embroidered into them, for the customers who buy more than a single bottle of wine.
In the middle of the room is a circular wooden display with spaces for wine bottles to be inserted, while the card on the little shelf below tells the name of the vintage or wine of the sevenday. A table and chairs are sometimes brought out from the storeroom to the front room, when there are particular customers about, or when there is a particular event going on. The shop itself is manned at all times, even during the night, sometimes by the feared Eollyn herself, and sometimes by Mayte or other apprentices.

Usually at lunchtime, Corks and Works is full of people looking to purchase their lunch… or its companions. Due to recent… bazaar activity, there's a bit more of a lull. Mayte is sitting at the counter, nibbling on the rest of a sandwich and writing things down in the large tome of debits and incomes. Hair is constantly falling into her face, into her food, and being pushed back. Kalligon is wandering around with a duster: useless as usual.

Oh, look: a grunkle, looking a bit worse for wear. His curly hair goes where it will, his clothes are a bit rumpled, and he looks — well, tired. Rubbing at an eye and stifling a yawn, he then looks about before he settles on Mayte — just the one A'lory was looking for! How convenient for him that she's right there, and he doesn't have to chase around looking for her. "Hey, youngin." He greets in a raspy tone.
Mayte hears someone at the door, and when Kalligon goes about his day without actually doing something about the visitor, she looks up for the apprentice who's going to be called Mud very so… oh! "Hi there, Weyrsecond!" And how is Mayte so bright and cheery at this time? Well… she can't really tell you. One eye rakes A'lory up and down along with the movement of her eyebrow. "Are you… feeling okay?" Her tone is brash and teasing for a moment, but ends with a concerned upward lilt- grunkles can't get sick, can they?

A'lory can get sick — fortunately, he isn't. "Mmph. M'fine — just had a rather interesting evening." He smirks, then, satisfied with the work of one night — work that will lead to a great deal of pleasure for him, mostly involving the use of his less… grunkly skills. "You're cheerful today. What'd you do?" It has to have been something rather mischevious, considering.

Mayte eyes the taller Weyrsecond suspiciously, for a moment, asking, "What did you do?" It sounds like there's a juicy tale there, and Mayte's totally not going to fall for the distraction tactic except to answer, "Just had a quiet evening." No raids, no annoying weaver boys, nuthin'. Now back to the interesting thing. She reaches up to try to pet A'lory's hair back into some semblance of 'place', but can't quite reach because her stool just isn't tall enough. Hrmph!

A'lory is awesomely tall, indeed. And unlikely to let Mayte restore order to his scruffy appearance — if the Weyr isn't used to that by now, then that's just too bad. "Oh, just found myself some fun entertainment in the Caverns." Or, how to legally punch Peaston. But hey, that's hardly a new thing, is it? Everyone wants to punch him; it's all the rage. "Seems we both have our secrets, huh." Random non sequiturs aside, he asks, casually, "How's this place look on public challenges? I'm mighty curious."

Mayte is not going to sulk. She's not going to sulk. Just a little lip wibble. "I heard something about a lot of yelling, when I went for breakfast today," she says archly, "Was that entertainment for you?" Cuz Mayte wants an invite next time, buster. In any case, "Sounds more interesting than what I did, at least." Mayte shrugs a little at the question, "Uh… this store? Challenges make people come in and buy before, during, and after, so the only problem is I usually miss the challe…" Wait a minute, "Hold on, do you mean at the Pit? Or just telling someone you want to go to the Pit?" The light of suspicion in her eyes, "You're not gonna fight W'rin or that Cullen guy, are you?"

"Oh, that," A'lory grins oh so breezily, and ruffles his hair — oh, look at that, it decides to fall into place, ever so kindly. "Peaston made an ass of himself and nearly got himself a broken jaw." Oh, how he wishes he'd been just a bit later to that party. It might have saved him having to hear the man whining like a baby. "Me? No. I've no reason to fight either of them." Luckily for W'rin, A'lory likes the guy. And he generally ignores Cullen just because he can. "And not necessarily in the Pit — though it's something I'd consider, if there was reason. I'm more thinking… certain Harpers need lessons, and I'd prefer to make it as public an embarrassment as I can. However, I'd rather not make it look as though riders were attempting to… bully others, you understand."

The very name of Peaston gets a curled upper lip from this Vintner, and while she's too smart to say he has it coming, Mayte ducks her head forward to let hair fall and perhaps muffle her tone slightly, "Big surprise." That neither A'lory or Wrin will bear fisticuff marks from each other gives her relief, shaking her hair back to smile a little. "So… you wanna make a fool of him, without you actually making a fool of him." Which would require intermediaries, if she's not mistaken. Leaning forward over her books, voice dropping, Mayte wonders, "Whaddya need?" Rope, gags, rotten socks, a barrel to stuff Peaston in?

Ooh, a barrel would be nice. "Oh, no, I intend to do the deed myself. He's accosted my mate one time too many for me to overlook it." A'lory also hasn't had a chance to beat anyone in far too long. "More, I need a way to properly administer the beating myself, while making it clear that it's for personal reasons, not as a Weyr-wide crackdown. In short, I do not want the Bazaar folks thinking I intend to start harassing them, for any reason."

Oh, this could be so much simpler without the interference of … the Guard, but there you have it. "I see," And a pen, suddenly remembered in Mayte's hand, starts tapping her lower lip. Plottings afoot! "So, do you want rumours? Notices? A wine called Sara's Honour? A little chant or ditty a crowd can sing?" Mayte may not be able to carry a tune in a demi-john, but she can come up with some limericks. With so many people coming in and out of this store, news could spread like wildfire. Mayte's own eyes gleam with the excitement of Helping!.

A'lory laughs. "You're a born Harper, girl." He leans, casual, against the side of her desk, fingers interlaced in his lap. "Nah, just ensure, very quietly, that this thing is not the continuation of the guards' raids — I have no desire to look into the goings-on here in the Bazaar; in fact, I rather like that the Bazaar handles its own, and would rather stop the interference that's been happening."

Mayte is slight disgruntled that she's been confined to rumours but nods, "I getcha." She tilts her head a little and asks, "How long do I have to … ahem, pass on the message? What did he say?" Because all rumours need to have a hint of truth to them, it's always good to know what you're talking about. "You need him to be… ah, softened a little?" You want she should rough him up a little, take him down a peg or two, show him the short way off a tall cliff 'er sumthin, bawse?

A'lory smirks. "Him? No. If it were someone W'rin's size, I'd worry." Skinny A'lory may be, but more than twenty turns of dragonriding has made its mark on even his lean body. "Well, let's see — he's called Sara a whore half a dozen times, before witnesses no less. He's physically broken property of hers, and insinuated that she's using her relationship with me to get things — basically, he's fucking with her reputation, and I've had enough of it." There's the merest tinge of that seething rage he's held back for months and months.

Mayte bites her lower lip thoughtfully and nods, "Yup, that sounds pretty good…" And already the gears are turning. A little slumped shoulders in the realization that Mayte will only be able to help in this small manner, but however it helps, Mayte certainly will. The pen starts to trace lazy figure-eights on the page beneath her hand. "He's at the guardhouse now, right?" Um… just making sure Peaston is where he belongs, yup yup!

"Happily enough, yes." A'lory beams happily. "He was disturbing the peace, and making a mockery of the rules that guide the Weyr." Not to mention being a right royal asshole, but A'lory's going to let that go for now. "Also, it would help me quite a lot if you kept Sara company during the fight." Because that's going to happen, no matter what Peaston does to get out of it. He will get his beatdown. "She won't like it, and she'll worry. I rather she did not sit and worry alone."

Ducking her head, Mayte grins and then shakes her head, looking back up, "It's so sad when someone will try to cheat the rules…" So very, very sad. A'lory's request gets a surprised look, "Why would she wo…" And then Mayte remembers something and gives her grunkle a tight smile, "Of course, Weyrsecond." She's so polite that Mayte might just wear… well, not a dress, but something more formal than usual.

Ah yes, Mayte understands. A'lory smiles down at her and rises. "I leave it all in your capable hands." And he merrily strolls out the door, well content with this day's work.

Mayte nods a little and eyes A'lory's departure thoughtfully and hmms. Kalligon, who had tucked himself far away from the proceedings, now emerges and gets a slightly more concilliatory look than usual, and Mayte looks down to the book again; just waiting for the next customer, and to pass on a story.

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