Who

Threvobek, Linny

What

Linny and Threvobek have dinner in the living caverns. It goes well….until it doesn't.

When

It is evening of the thirteenth day of the second month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Living Caverns, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Living Caverns

Dim light from hanging glow-globes cannot fully camouflage the ravages of time and neglect on Igen's busy living caverns, though hints of its former glory peek through in the decorative cuts to the cave's natural limestone and the high quality of dusty, tatty-ended tapestries. Here and there, skybroom tables — stained dark by wood finish and a decade of grime — sit in loose groups, flanked by wicker chairs with pointy, broken rattan that pokes out to invariably find unprotected skin. The seemingly randomly placed furniture, however, at closer inspection, forms a sort of cross-shape of negative space. At the northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns, a long buffet table with tarnished lazy susans hosts an array of finger-foods and pitchers for the interested, refilled occasionally by drudges that shuffle in from the curtained entrance to the south, beyond which lies the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside and, across from that, to the west, a set of rattling doors that open to reveal the tunnels and stairs of the inner caverns themselves.


While it's not totally desirous to have animals and food fit for human consumption in the same space, many people include their firelizards in the Weyr's dining hub and frankly Threvobek is wanting to show off his recent acquisition: Valmai the Cute and Ungainly. He strides into the living cavern and hangs around a wash basin, waiting his turn to scrub the scent of bovine from the sam hands he wants to eat with. It's moderately packed: tonight's meat pie night.

Linny was lucky to procure her seat early on, and it appears that she's been there for awhile, since her plate is clean but for some crumbs (clean plate club!), currently leaning back in her seat while she crowd watches, sipping at her second glass of wine for the evening. There's a brief nod to the brownrider who vacates the seat across from her, eyes lingering in watching him leave, but then when eyes go back to watching, Threvobek is noticed. A smirk tugs on her lips as she remembers their brief conversation in the infirmary, maintaining her gaze on him so that should he want, the goldrider can offer him the empty seat by her.

Threvobek's first act of swagger is focused on a guy he's played dice with half a dozen times. "Look at this, huh? Bet you wish you had one." Valmai, a young hefty-looking brown squatting on the stablehand's shoulders, is indicated with a hand imitating a Showcase Showdown presentation. "I do. I have two." The guy announces blandly then turns his back to the conversation. Undaunted, Rev sets a finger in the gap between two tiny head knobs and presses down more or less lightly. Valmai shows a high tolerance for irritants. Rev surveys the population of eaters and spies Linny in front of a knot of second and third turn harper apprentices. Boldly he goes, right up to the goldrider with a sideways fist on his heart, thumbside to his chest. "You're looking especially radiant, weyrwoman. Can I sit by you?"

"Please," is accompanied by a gesture signaling that he can sit. The goldrider surveys him for a second before noticing the brown firelizard, ticking up an eyebrow as teasingly suspicious eyes flick back to him as a finger points towards Valmai. "Where'd you steal that from?" Wine gets another sip or two before the glass is set back down on the table as Linny sits up straighter now that she has company. It's better for proper conversation. "You've been well, I assume?"

Threvobek had wet and combed his hair back from his face before coming though without oil it has not stayed. He forces it back as he sits but the sides hang over each temple quick enough. Valmai beats his stubby wings in place at the sudden change in his perch's posture but has no real place to go and makes for the table. Rev's sturdy hands pluck him off it and stuff him back on shoulders he reinforced with old leather. "You like him?" Pride-fused response. "I won him last night— no two nights ago— at my third round of Blood Chess." Like normal chess but with dice and rusty knives. "He was just an egg course, and I wasn't quite sure he was even alive. I made out like a bandit." The chunk out of his index finger is hardly noticeable. "No complaints. Well, some," the young man confesses, "but I have broad shoulders so to speak." One of which has firelizard waste on it (not quite there yet with ::betweening:: finesse). "I'm surprised you're alone." And not being salivated on by northern bronzeriders…

"Ah. Well in that case, congratulations on winning and on winning him." Linny listens to his tale with a rather amused expression on her face, unable to contain it for very long. "I remember thinking how much work my firelizards were. Then I impressed Kaelidyth." Which is like an oversized firelizard. Kind of? One that likes to give opinions on your life choices and keep you awake at night catching you up on the day's gossip. The weyrwoman picks up on the implication of his latter words, but she smoothly replies, "But I'm not alone. You're here with me."

Threvobek draws his legs up under the chair, boot toes his connection to the floor. He angles a hip toward Linny for the same reason she sat straighter. Valmai oozes further down the arm in the foreground. Rev guides him back up despite a clawed grip. He'll sorely need to take up clothes mending again. "I hope to Faranth she didn't want to perch on your shoulder." See Linny go Squish. "So I got to meet your daughter the other day." Since things are going so well, he's lulled into this admission.

"No, thankfully she did not," Linny replies with a laugh, but that happy expression soon goes away when Roslin is brought into the conversation, and though the goldrider attempts to keep the air around her teasing, her body is certainly tense. "I thought I told you to stay away from her," slowly comes from her, carefully eyeing him for any clues to what happened between them. "Apparently, you're not a good listener." That teasing nature goes away, then, as dark eyes pin themselves on Threvobek. "Tell me you didn't touch her or kiss her or so help me Faranth…"

Damn that false sense of security. Damn it to a cold eternity of ::between::. Valmai might be young and new to this world but right now he's switching shoulders, the one furthest from Linny. "Weyrwoman, I did neither such thing, I swear on Faranth's shell." Surrender is spelled out with both hands showing their palms to the woman. "I didn't even know who she was until the last minute," yet strangely halfway through the conversation. "She was by herself—I completely thought it was unsafe." Hazel eyes hazard meeting Linny's.

"Oh, because she looks nothing like me." The shortness should be a dead give away, if the facial features and hair aren't obvious enough. Linny can't be angry at his logic, though, but that doesn't mean that she has to tell him that, even as her mood calms down. The goldrider reaches for her wine glass, easily finishing it off before the napkin from her lap wipes her lips, putting it on the table once that's done. "Just…don't knock her up, huh?" So he's gone from not being allowed to talk to her to not being allowed to get her pregnant. Pretty significant change with lots of leeway. Lifted brows are aimed at him as Linny stands.

Threvobek lifts his eyebrows, conditioning creases in his forehead as he watches the goldrider rise. "I hadn't thought of it." That admission seeming the most genuine. Like a deer in headlights the blindness takes a minute to wear off. With some haste and a mild stumble he's also standing, quite frankly he doesn't know what to do. Rev's slightly stirred up and all the best meat pies are probably picked over. "Thank you for your company, weyrwoman. And mostly thank you for not hitting me." The smallest of grins; most of cheekiness is in the eyes.

"This time," Linny adds to that last part of his gratitude, leveling a serious look upon him before the weyrwoman is off, sauntering out of the caverns to who-knows-where.

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