Who

Keelie, Z'bor

What

Two WingSeconds walk into a bar….

When

-- On Pern --
It is 4:05 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the sixteenth day of the ninth month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the sixteenth day of Autumn and 96 degrees. Mercilessly bright, Rukbat's light heats the desert as a small dark cloud appears on the horizon.
In Southern:
It is the sixteenth day of Spring and 87 degrees. It is overcast and cloudy.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the sixteenth day of Spring and 19 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Where

The Kitten, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 16 Aug 2017 06:00

 

keelie_default.jpg z-bor_default.jpg

"Every damn turn, every damn time."


tavern.jpg

The Kitten

Here there be drunkards: a marble bar and the gorgeous array of colored bottles behind it would be enough to draw them in, but more yet lures those to enjoy the recreation the Kitten has to offer. Windows allow light to naturally illuminate the first floor of the tavern in the daytime, while green-tinted glows shine after nightfall. A door behind the bar leads to the tiny kitchen, while a stairway leads above to the rooms available for rent. Among the hubbub and the ruckus, a calamity of tables scatter through the open space, plenty enough for dragonpoker tournaments on restday eve.


Timor: moon8.jpg
Belior: moon2.jpg


It's mid afternoon, a quiet time to be at the kitten. A red-haired brownrider (Keelie) with a brand new shiny Wingsecond knot sits in a booth near the back, taking a breather from her new duties. A mug of klah sits at her elbow, a bunch of cards laid out in lines. Just regular cards, dear reader. (To those in the know, she's playing solitaire.) A basket of redfruit slices sits nearby, and her lips are stained from eating them. She's focused in her task, mouth pursed, moving the cards around. They may or may not be in the correct order, but she's trying.

Z'bor is in a ridiculously good mood when he strides into the Kitten, his own new knot attached firmly to his shoulders. He's just back from sweeps and in the mood to celebrate. And lo-and-behold, here's Serval's other new WingSecond. Z'bor strides up to the table Keelie occupies, peering down at her cards with mild interest. "How anyone plays that game without falling dead asleep from boredom is beyond me." Z'bor chuckles and takes a seat, pretty sure he won't be ousted from it. "Congratulations Keelie." He hasn't had a chance to say it, and with Ozriath's recent flight, well, he hasn't exactly seen her either.

Keelie looks up from pushing a card into a line as Z'bor sits down, sending him a warm smile. She doesn't find it boring! Not yet anyway. "Does the Weyrleader go on top or on bottom? I have forgotten." A game played with the other cards would probably make that sound more interesting. "Thanks," she replies, then adds on: "You too," with a nod for his new knot. "You are looking… happy." Her gentle accent raises up at the end, as if in a question, but possibly not. "Did you have a good turnday?" She nudges the basket of redfruit towards him, in case he's hungry.

Z'bor chuckles. "To each their own I guess, and the Weyrleader goes on top." He thinks. He's pretty sure. That's his story and he's sticking to it. Z'bor flags a server down and orders a drink before happily taking a piece or two of redfruit from Keelie's basket. Her comment and subsequent question earns a happy smile from the green rider, mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance. "I had a great Turnday. H'ris and a few friends surprised me with a beach party and booze, so that was fun, until Oz decided she wanted to go full on proddy." As Usual. "So, I hope my guests enjoyed the roasted porcine, I certainly didn't get any of it." Z'bor laughs. "But I am happy. Life is good right now. How are you?"

"Of course he does," Keelie's eyebrows do a little wiggle as she moves the weyrleader into the proper spot. She taps her fingers on the table with a thoughtful. "Hmm." She snorts. "Ah, not again. Does she not do that every year?" A sympathetic head-tilt for poor Z'bor. "Sorry I could not make it to your party." A nose-crinkle for sweeps. Although then, maybe Gruffith might have given chase, although he isn't usually interested in such matters. Such an elusive neverbeast, her brown. "They did not save you any?" A tsk for the loss of porcine. "I am… alright. Happy to be a wingsecond again, for Rielle. And for Serval. Although I am not the best at the paperwork." She glances down at the satchel sitting beside her. Procrastinating: she's doing it already. Ah, Keels. "I have the sweeps mapped out for the next few sevens tho." So that's something. She flips over the next card. Slides it into place.

Z'bor gives a short nod. "Every damn turn, every damn time." He laughs and shakes his head, accepting his drink when it comes around. As to the apology, Z'bor holds up a hand. "Don't worry about it, it was pretty short lived for me anyhow. I think I might have to start telling H'ris to plan my turnday parties for the day after my actual turnday. "They did not, though I don't blame them, from what I remember smelling, they were probably delicious." And the fare H'ris had set out for Z and the flight winner had been particularly yummy. "Well, we'll both have to remind each other of paperwork. Seems like we're on the same track though, I have the next 6 sevendays mapped out for PT and my sets of drills."

Keelie reaches for a piece of redfruit, holding it between her lips and sucking and then biting the end off between her teeth as she flips the next card. She moves it to the discard pile. "Ok." She's pretty flexible when it comes to doing whatever duties. She's a team playah! "I did not know it was so regular, for greens." A thoughtful pause. "Although they are all different." She moves a long line of cards to join another. "You are lucky that you have H'ris," her eyes look a bit sad and thoughtful for a moment. Then: "Do you think we should ask to do PT in the jungle?" Keelie does that already on her own, although she isn't sure if Rielle or anyone else would go for it.

Z'bor laughs. "Greens can go up quite frequently, and some hardly rise at all. I think it varies dragon to dragon." Keelie's comment on H'ris has Z blushing and nodding. "Aye, you can say that again." Z'bor lifts his drink in salute before taking a good pull off of it. "You best just ask, the worst she can say is no. I do some of my own personal PT in the jungle, and I could see advantage in getting some terrain training."

Keelie smiles slightly, not unkindly, at his blush. "No, I meant that it is so regular, that she always rises on your turnday," She says. "Unless she just wants to… celebrate." Funny little smirk, there. Gruffith would never think of flights as celebrating. She bites off another piece of redfruit between her teeth. "We have done it the past as a group. And we do look for mushrooms." For the healers. Serval power!

Z'bor rolls his eyes. "Oh well, what can I really do about it?" When a dragon rises, they rise. "I think it's a good idea." He says of PT and mushroom gathering. "And if it's a no, I'll train with you." Z'bor quirks a grin and finishes off about half of his drink.

Keelie's smile widens to show white teeth, "Ok, deal." She straightens her spine and holds out a hand across the table, as if for shaking. GONNA MAKE IT OFFICIAL. Because they're both Wingseconds and this is serious business.

Z'bor gladly shakes Keelie's hand. "Deal." Z'bor finishes off his drink and takes a look around. "I better get going, trading one duty for another. I have to pick up my kids before I get home to my weyr." Pushing back h is chair, Z'bor stands and gives Keelie a friendly salute. "See you in the morning Tempest." He grins at the chance to use Keelie's wing handle and walks off with a grin on his face, one that stays firmly in place the rest of the evening. Life is good.

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