==== December 23, 2013
==== We'bey, K'vvan, Atzi
==== Early morning bar-goers purchase, or attempt to purchase, drinks.

Who We'bey, K'vvan, Atzi
What Early morning bar-goers purchase, or attempt to purchase, drinks.
When Morning- 4 months and 24 days until the 12th pass.
Where Dustbowl Cantina

kvvan2.jpg Webley1.jpg atzi.jpg

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.//

The dust has made a solid attempt to scour away the sins of the desert weyr. Failing that, the storm has moved away leaving behind dust everywhere- crowding the corners that are most hard to clean. One green rider scuffs his boots through the dust, sending up a poof whenever his foot hits a particularly large dust pile. It is thus that proceeds the green rider into the cantina at this early hour, dust. "Barkeep." K'vvan yells.

Atzi pops up from behind the bar, a dustpan and handbroom held. K'vvan's path across the floor is noted with some displeasure, not that she'd seen him kicking through the piles, but that the dust was everywhere. AGAIN. A little groaned grunt in the back of her throat, See. This was why she'd been so happy to handfast far away. A sad flicker crosses her face. She takes a deep breath through her nose and empties the dustpan into the bin answering the testy greenrider pleasantly, "Yes?"

There are, even in the dirtiest of places, those annoying people who never seem to have a flake on it on them. Usually saved for the most feminine of elite women, We'bey can be counted among their number, though having been raised in the bazaar by one of its most well to do clothiers might have something to do with it. As if he glides between the particles even in the midst of the storm, he carries not a speck of the desert sand on his being as he enters into the Cantina. A waggle of fingers for those he knows and a wink for a young lady in the corner, the man promenades up to the bar, slips onto a stool, flutters his 'lashes at K'vvan, "Wingsecond, sugs." and then tilts his head at the bartender who the other greenrider so nicely called over for him, "Something colorful, love?" A smile settling easily onto his face, as he tugs at his scarf.

Atzi is a worker, and We'bey is… well, We'bey. K'vvan flashes a small look at the rider then nods briskly. Nope, no conversation here today. "I need you to put an order in for me at Corks and Works." Because being rude TOTALLY gets you awesome service.

Atzi cocks her head, brows quirking curiously at the Wingsecond. She glances at the greenrider and nods sharply, Coming right up, noting with envy his rich, clean fabrics. She sets to work preparing something layered, fruity and tart because, well, We'bey. She looks at K'vvan, "Something you'd like me to stock, Wingsecond?" She moves back and forth behind the bar, rustling up something that is sure to be delighful.

A drink after his own heart, slender fingers wrap round the brightly clad alcohol as We'bey watches the exchange between the bartender and his wingsecond. "Its a store, sugs'. You could just walk in on your own." One green-tighted leg slides over the other as he leans forward, perhaps they are part of some sort of shopping conspiracy. "Oh, love! Did you get yourself 'removed' from the store? I hope it was a good story. Everyone should be banned from at least one place in the bazaar." Laughing softly he takes his first sip, "Ohh, so delightful. What do you call it, love?"

Glare, the expected one is delivered to We'bey for his riptose. "Her," who is her? "journeyman wants me to stay away, so I am." K'vvan firmly turns his direction back to the barkeep. "They have…" he pauses in his order, but really, this is We'bey. Like he's going to make fun of K'vvan for his order, "this light pink wine. Ask Mayte and she'll know the one I'm talking about. I want four bottles."

Gazebo zips down from the rafters, and bullies his way into We'bey's lap. Mean nasty dragons want to eat him. He chirrups at the greenrider, and flatly refuses to move should someone try to make him.

Atzi absolutely does not listen with interest to the exchange between We'bey and K'vvan. Atzi's mouth shapes into a surprised and flustered 'oh!' as Gazebo divebombs We'bey. She flickers a worried and flustered look at the little brown flit and reaches to take the skitterish critter from We'bey, "I'm so sorry! He's been hanging around here. Won't go away." And then, ahem, We'bey's question. He cheeks flame, "It's an…" she clears her throat, "An Istan Three-way." She cuts her eyes away to answer the other greenrider, "I'm, ah…" she fixes K'vvan with a professionally curious look, "I don't tend to stock in such small quantities, but if you'd like me to keep something special on hand for you here, I'm happy to do so."

"Ohh, suga'. Good for you." Is We'bey's response to to Eollyn asking K'vvan to stay away. "Though, I would have hoped it involved something a little more exciting, maybe some dessert, and a nake woman…" His elbow stretches out on the bar and he props his head up in his hand wistfully, "Or a man. And ribbons." He'd go on but then one of those disgusting creatures is clinging to his lap uncomfortably, he seems only slightly less distraught then when he's around a child. "Go on..pesky creature." Flapping a hand at it unsuccessfully until Atzi steps in to handle it for him. "Thanks, love. An Ista Three Way?" Cheerful laughter eminates from the man. "Oh, love, that's too wonderful." But his eyes roll toward the other greenrider. "Four bottles?"

The barkeep is clearly not understanding. "Do you want my business or not barkeep? I got to stay away the next fortnight… because, and would rather not run out. I'd trust you to get it right before a less desirable." Meaning anyone else. We'bey… keeps getting ignored.

Atzi's brow furrows, "I'm sorry, I'm simply not understanding. What is it you want me to do?"

Gazebo reluctantly allows himself to be lifted off of We'bey. Oh hey! It's Atzi! The small brown curls round her neck, and even keeps his tail loose round the neck. Really, just support no choking. Finally feeling safe, he starts to droop into sleep. One would swear the brown belongs to the barkeep, but no he doesn't.

"I want you, or someone here to order that particular wine. Then I buy it for your stupid elevated prices." K'vvan leans against the bar, speaking slowly. Someone should tell him that insulting people is not the best way to get favors done.

"Oh, then I understand you perfectly," She smiles, petting the little brown flit. She takes out her little ledger and makes a note, eyes flicking to We'bey and K'vvan. She then goes back to fighting the everpresent, unending dust. NEMESIS. This day may be yours, but I will fight. I WILL FIGHT.

We'bey turns round, so he's lounging lazily, but with a fluid grace, his elbows propping the rest of him up on the bar, "Just a fortnight, suga'?" His eyes glint as he turns his head to study K'vvan. "You could have found a friend to do that for you, love. Then you wouldn't have had to pay extra."

"I don't bother my friends with nonsense." K'vvan flags down another barkeep when Atzi leaves, and orders Klah. It really is too early for drinking, though K'vvan does cast a slightly longing look at the array of drinks up on the ledge behind the bar. "What's that?" He nods at Web's colourful drink.

We'bs 'mmmmm's in a non-commital, but not entirely believing tone. "I would have, I still owe you from when I was a weyrling. And that was decidedly up my alley." The top leg swings slowly back and forth as his eyes study the few people who dot the Cantina. "This?" His eyes flicker to his drink, "Something fruity. The bartender called it an Ista Three-Way." Finally his eyes leave the drink to fall on K'vvan with a smile, "Which I suppose is to make manly men more comfortable ordering it." Shifting his weight to one arm the other lithe appendage is lifted into the air in a mocking flex of barely visible muscle. Its there, just carefully developed to not distract from his slender physique.

K'vvan just levels a look at We'ley. A single eyebrow quirks upwards, the picture of 'seriously?' written all over. "You don't owe me anything." The cup is brought to his lips and he eyes that drink more then a bit suspiciously. "Looks weird."

"Sure, sugs'. Remember when you tilled the training grounds for me?" A smile as he draws his lids down over his eyes for a moment, remember a time before being a rider. "So, if you need someone to work some bazaar magic for you, love, you couldn't pick a better man to do it for you." The comment on the drink draws a laugh, "You know, what is weird to me. Those guys who buy straight whiskey or rum, and poor it down their throats as if they enjoyed it. Just to prove how tough they are. Like being miserable is what makes a man. This tastes good, a little fruity, a little sweet, a little tart." Laughter, "Like me." And a wink. "Why spend my money on something gross, when I can enjoy it?"

Every time We'bey says the word 'sugs' K'vvan twitches slightly. As if the words themselves were a physical touch that ought to be avoided. "Every drink has a purpose." Wisdom from green-riders abounds, "And if you're drinking for that purpose then who the f*k cares what they do."

We'bey is either missing the twitches, or perhaps enjoying the effect, either way he continues, "I don't, suga'. Which is why I'm having an Ista Three-some." Nearly through now, his neck arches back so he can get to the ends of his glass. A satisfied curl of his lips as he sets the empty glass on the counter, "Never much cared what anyone else thought, love. And its worked well for me so far." One leg slips off the other as he stands in a single motion, "Anyway. Next time you need something in the bazaar…" He's a few steps away now, and he turns to peer back at the other greenrider over his shoulder, with a wink. "I'm your man." And then with a laugh he's out the door.

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