Who

Hannah, Ione, Sorvani

What

Two gold-riders and a lower caverns woman enter a bar…HEY DID YOU KNOW THEY ALL LIKE TO DRINK?

When

It is evening of the sixteenth day of the seventh month of the ninth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

The Tipsy Kitten, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 28 Nov 2016 11:00

 

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"I am proud of all of the weyr's denizens."


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The Tipsy 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.


Outside meteors fall like diamonds in a night sky, spattering down past the horizon. Inside, the bar is all but empty despite the fact that the winter rain falls gently outside. Namely because the meteors still fall outside. However, it is warm and cozy in the bar and that's where Hannah finds herself: post-dinner rush, pre-bedtime hour. She sits and muses over a single tumbler of amber liquid, swirling it around while fingering a dried purple flower sitting in front of her.

Sorvani has found herself her own spot of cozy over by the bar. Dark eyes speculatively watching the few faces available while a long bony finger traces the rim of her glass. With a sigh, she rotates on her seat, resting her elbows on the marble bar for a better gawk. Eventually her attention is caught by the withered purple bloom. She watches the blonde woman fidget with it for a few moments, fingers tapping against her glass. Apparently a decision is made as she stands and makes her way over. "That's pretty." Her voice low. "What is it?" A frown crosses her features for a moment. "I meant, what type of flower is it?" She corrects her manners, because manners.

Between the winter rains and the meteor showers, this couldn't be a better evening for Niatskivhiath and Ione to soar through the skies. Indeed, if the thoroughly soaked state of the goldrider's clothing is any indication, they've been doing just that. The young woman's clothing is plastered to her body, clinging to her like a second skin. There's a jacket wrapped around her shoulders which looks little more than damp, but she's still shivering as she makes her way up to the bar. "Something warm," is ordered through clenched teeth. It's only when that steaming mug is placed in front of her that she begins to search out a seat, her frozen fingers curled around her drink as she pauses by Hannah's table. "Evening," she greets, extending the hello to Sorvani as well with the flash of a smile.

Hannah's attention is pulled from her inner thoughts to find herself being addressed with a question. Twirling the purple bells, she smiles a tilted but almost melancholy smile. "A pretty flower with a bite. Pretty to look at, but not to eat." Careful to keep the plant from touching anyone, Hannah tips the tumbler to her lips. "Why aren't you outside with the rest of the weyr? I'm told if you get high enough, you can see beyond the rain." Interrupted by Ione's arrival, the goldrider's attention takes in her junior's wet appearance. "Riding in the rain?" A hint of friendly chiding colors her tone. "Don't get yourself sick," she murmurs, but there's no real heat behind it. Ione is a big girl now.

"I'm from Igen, aren't all flowers like that?" Although her tone makes it unclear if she is referring to the peril disguised as beauty or just the general desiccation of the thing. "Being from Igen is probably why I'm not out there in the wet as well." Sorvani's initially delicate shudder intensifies as Ione drips closer, but she returns the smile with a brief one of her own. "I'll just wait for the rain to stop before going out to watch the stars fall."

"Tiski wouldn't miss it," Ione answers, although the hint of pink to her pale cheeks suggests the gold isn't the only one who finds a thrill in taking to stormy skies. "But I'll warm up before I try it again." The conversation between Hannah and the stranger causes her to tilt her head, eyeing the previously ignored bloom with newfound curiosity. "Some flowers are edible," she imparts, leaning in just enough to better inspect the flower. A lingering look and then she shrugs. Ah, well. Surely Hannah has reason for carrying around a poison flower. "You might be waiting a while, if you're hoping the rain will stop."

"Not all flowers are like this," Hannah comments, though she is equally vague. Tucking the foxglove into a small velvet pouch and tucks the pouch into the neckline of her bodice. "Igen," she rolls the name on her tongue, tasting it. "A dry place. I remember it well, though I don't visit as much as I used to." She has a smile for Sorvani's shudder, though it's kind. "I like the rain well enough, but I've enough of it for the moment." Emerald green eyes watch Ione from beneath the veil of her lashes. "Tiski would be careful, I'd hope." A quiet admonition of carefulness, but otherwise, she doesn't comment. "The rains won't stop until after winter. Then the weather is quite delightful." Before it becomes sweltering heat. A quick look to Ione, she gestures for both of them to join her table, then to Sorvani: "How long have you been here in Southern?"

Sorvani was probably hoping for an invitation when she made her way over, drinking alone is no fun at all. "Dry. Harsh. Gritty." Sorvani lists as she snags herself a seat from one of the abandoned tables. "Home." She admits with a quirked brow and quick toast. Then her lips twitch. "Clearly I haven't been here long enough if I don't know about the winter rains." An ironic smile blossoms briefly before she sips from her glass. "I'm Sorvani. No-one terribly important. But I may have washed both of your knickers." A flicker of a wink is sent to both weyrwomen and another sip is supped.

"I was just in Igen not too long ago," Ione reveals, just a moment too late — sue her, she was distracted by the flower. "It's an interesting place." Slim shoulders lift in a shrug, before the goldrider slides into one of the chairs at Hannah's table with the invitation. Whether or not Tiski would be careful is given answer only with an enigmatic grin, before she lifts her mug to her lips and blows across the surface of the liquid. Steam billows out, and she takes a tenative sip. "Hot," is the disgruntled assessment. Very well, it'll just have to serve as a hand warmer for the moment. "I've heard rumors that no one washes my knickers," she informs Sorvani, adding, "I just buy new ones and toss the old ones away after wearing them once."

All are welcome at Hannah's table! She signals the barkeep and another round magically appears. "What brings you to Southern?" she queries of Sorvani, a single brow lifts in obvious curiosity. "Were you?" Now the Weyrwoman's attention is focused on Ione, something hidden in the shadows of her expression, pale hair framing her face. Ione's blatant lie garners a chortle from Hannah and she leans back, surveying both young women thoughtfully. "I wonder where my knickers go. Maybe they get eaten by Dhiammarath." That absurdity prompts the curve of her lips. "I've yet to see the meteor showers," she admits, once again thoughtful. Maybe Hannah's getting an idea.

"You can't have heard those rumors from the laundry aunties. Biggest bunch of close-mouthed bi—wherries I've never met." Sorvani sounds a bit bitter about that actually. "You should be proud. They have integrity." A firm nod is given before she downs the last of the liquid in her glass. And then a new round appears, and all is right with the world. Speaking of: "I kind of figured when I got to Ista, might as well make my way to the most exotic place I could think of…" She gestures to the bar and bottles and all that good stuff with a flourish. "…and here I am" It really isn't much of an answer at all.

Maybe Ione shouldn't have mentioned her Igen escapades after previously mentioning her fondness for getting into life-threatening situations, but she's too busy shivering to worry about what may or may not be brewing behind that look of Hannah's. "Now, now," she practically 'tsks' at Sorvani, the admonition a tad ridiculous coming from someone so young. "You just have to find your way into their circle of trust, and then they'll tell you everything." Is that even true? Ione does spend a great deal of her time in the caverns, so it's possible she's being honest. Unfortunately, her toothy grin and the subsequent flash of her tongue between her teeth makes it difficult to tell. Since her first drink is still unfinished, she goes for the second with gusto. "You should try to catch it tonight, Hannah."

"Everyone indulges in rumors," Hannah answers, absently. "I am proud of all of the weyr's denizens." Present company included. Excluding any killers left in Southern. Caveat, caveat, caveat! "Perhaps I will," though she's still contemplative of Ione's escapades (maybe). Or maybe it's the fact that there might be some lettuce stuck to the other goldrider's front tooth. (Is there? Maybe!) Swinging 'round to Sorvani, she nods and tips her tumbler back up to her lips. "Summer is quite exotic." Taking a drink hides her smile, but she leans forward and drops her voice. "Especially if you got out to find the wildlings." Who are local, indigenous people with strange customs. Definitely the best flavor of Southern! "Or you might find some pirates." Also, amazing flavor. "Never a dull moment!" Hannah laughs quietly, though it's touched in echoes of melancholy, and leans back, focused once more on the secrets of her drink.

Sorvani is absorbing most of the information coming her way with the contentiousness of the tipsy, which means she's not really getting any of those subtle undercurrents. The fact that does catch her attention momentarily is that the laundry aunties are chatty with practically anyone other than herself. "Huh." She contributes pleasantly. "You'd think if they trusted me with your undies, they'd give a girl a friendly heads up." Life is unfair. "Met one of those. A wilding. She announces with a sip and a head nod. "And a pirate. He was in the brig." She's exploring all of Southern's charms it seems.

Ione might roll her eyes just a little when Hannah says she's proud of everyone. Luckily, it's aimed down at her drink so the movement isn't visible. She's (maybe?) in enough trouble with the Weyrwoman as it is. "The wildlings are… interesting. I had a crush on one, once." She heaves a sigh that only sounds slightly dreamy. Just for the record, that wildling isn't Keelie. "I've missed the pirates, though. One of the murderers, though, I did meet him." All of this is said offhandedly, as she brings her mug up to her lips for another blow-sip combo. "Try to avoid the pirates, I'd say, but there's nothing wrong with most of the wildlings. There are probably still some groups who don't like us much, but they tend to be fond of avoiding the Weyr."

Maybe Hannah senses Ione rolling her eyes or maybe it's something else that provokes the Weyrwoman to push to her feet. It's entirely possible the woman just feels old in the midst of the younger women. "Was he?" Her tone is mild but something in the brittleness of it hints that there's more to the story that lies beneath the surface. With a smile too forced to be comfortable but too easy to be anything less than friendly, she nods her head to both girls. "You shoulda kept him," she remarks to Ione, tone bemused. But again, a shade of darkness touches Hannah's persona and she's turning away. Before she goes, she waves to the table. "One more round and then cut these girls off." The habit of command never leaves, and with a soft and gentle, "Good night," Hannah disappears into the dark night full of rain.

Sorvani is a little confused. "Does she mean the wildling or the murderer?" Yeah, she's completely oblivious to anything else going on between the pair of goldriders. "Or does she want you to keep a pirate?" At this point, it may be apparent that Sorvani has had more than the two drinks witnessed. "The wildling I met was a girl. She just talked alot." A shrug and a sip, and stare at the not-dry Ione. "Aren't you cold?"

If Hannah's standing does have anything to do with Ione's eye-rolling, that fact goes straight over the younger goldrider's head. "Sadly, he was too wild for me," she sighs with a hand over her heart. "And I had interests elsewhere." Wink, wink. "Unless you mean the murderer, but I guess I got him killed." Again, a shrug that's just a hint too casual. "Night, Hannah." There's a frown to the woman's retreating back as she instructs the bartender to cut them off, but it's more the fact that limits are being set than any particular personal desire to drink herself sick. No, she's plenty content to nurse her warm mug slowly, and sip from the glass of the good stuff to her right. "I think she meant the wildling, but I'm honestly not sure." There's a smirk which follows those words. "Keelie, then? And yeah, I'm cold, but I'm getting warmer."

Sorvani shakes her head. "Nope." Popping that 'p' in nope is one of her favorite things to do. "Yfana, I think. She's related to some high…" No, there's the built in descrection pause. "…A lord? Warder? That kids uncle." That kid being Rylov, the kidnapped. "Do you want some towels? Or a fire?" How exactly this would be achieved to be negotiated later. "I've not been back to Igen in six turns, and I still can't adjust to the cold." Anothe sympathy shiver shakes her body as she watches Ione intently.

Ione does know how that whole power-management system works up at the hold, but that doesn't mean she remembers every last name without a refresher course. But rather than smoothly admit as much, she simply says, "Oh, I see. I've never met her. We have a few wildlings around the Weyr who've impressed and joined our ranks. I think it's a difficult transition sometimes, but most of them do well." Except for that one wildling who impressed by accident and got himself killed by not obeying the weyrlingmasters, but no one needs to talk about that. "No, no, I'm fine. I've got a hot drink and this jacket is mostly dry. But thank you." To punctuate that remark, she takes a sip from her mug. "You should go up to the hold during the winter, it'll make everything here seem warmer."

"Nope." Again with the popping. "One winter in High Reaches is enough snow for me." Sorvani drops her voice dramatically. "For my entire life." And then her eyes widen, and she smiles brightly - a startling difference to her usual smirks and quirks. "She said she wanted to come here. And I said I'd put in a good word." As much as that is worth, for a girl she met that one time by chance. "Is there somewhere she can do some work. If she works like she talks, she'd be ace. And she was clean, and had all her teeth!" Sorvani being Igenese considers these very important in determining a strangers worth.

"A winter in High Reaches?" Pale eyes widen in a manner that's almost comically exaggerated. "You poor thing." A hand goes over her heart, before moving to reach for her booze-filled glass. She raises it to her lips and drinks half in one go, wincing a little as she tries to swallow too much. "Yikes." That's about the booze, not the wildling. "There's always work in the lower caverns somewhere, if she's willing to do anything. She can just go to the Headwoman, and she'll find her a job. Easy." A brow quirks as Sorvani mentions having all her teeth, but Ione isn't one to judge — at least not aloud.

Sorvani swipes one cheek with a not-quite steady hand. Someone understands! "Yes. It was traumatic. Extremely so." She chases away those remembered snow-horrors with the last of her drink. "Actually, I was planning on giving her my job if you had something more interesting." She admits wryly, examining the residue in her glass. Because Ione just described Sorvani's vagabond job-hunting technique. "But, she's fine. I'm sure she'll figure it out." Including how to get her arse down to the Weyr to ask for a job. Sorvani believes.

Ione grins widely as Sorvani swipes at her cheek, shushing her with a sort of 'there, there' sound. "Well, if you want another job…" She trails off, punctuating her fading words with a shrug of her shoulders. And just in case Sorvani can't read her mind, she adds, "You can always ask for a different job. Especially if there's something you think you'd be better at. Or you could just wait for the next clutch and see if someone picks you up for that." She winks. Encouraging crazy life choices? Always. "If she's smart enough to figure it out, I'm sure we'll take her." Because those are the only qualifications for working at Southern!

Sorvani snorts, so lovely, so lady-like. "I did that once. Back home." Hot, harsh, gritty Igen. "Didn't work out for me." Clearly, although those memories sober her up for a moment. "Dunno if I'm good at much at all. Let alone capable of better." Huh? That makes more sense in her head at least. "My glass is empty." She shares. "And my bladder is full." Along with other, more vital information. "I'll be back!" And with a cheerful stagger she manages to regain her feet, and holds her breath long enough to make a somewhat dignified: "Weyrwoman." Before belching and heading out the swinging doors and into the night. Let's hope she doesn't pee on any poisonous flowers.

Don't worry, Hannah keeps those for her private stash.

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