Who

Rhydian, Sh'ro

What

A greenrider and a Starcrafter meet in a bar…

When

It is evening of the twenty-fifth day of the sixth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Weyr, The Tipsy Kitten

OOC Date

 

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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.



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Belior: 1_m20.jpg

The sky is bright and clear outdoors, star-studded and moonlit, and yet the Kitten is full of folks who care little for the beauty of it - or who are simply more interested in just unwinding. Possibly one to fall more into the latter category is Rhydian, who's staked a claim at the bar, sitting close enough to what's probably considered his usual spot by now. He's nursing a tumbler of whisky as he leans over a book, elbow resting on the countertop and the occasional sip breaking up his studies.

Sh'ro is a pretty regular face around these parts, and not always for the drinking of alcohol. It's only fair that a place called the Tipsy Kitten is one of his figurative hunting grounds. Whether he's just arrived or has been hidden away somewhere trying to talk up someone else, he's on the prowl again and Rhydian, having been a successful target in the past, is just the sort of place for his attention to land. The greenrider slides in near the crafter, close enough to jostle, and waves for the bartender. "Wine, thanks. Anything red."

Rhydian's fingers curl protectively around his tumbler when someone gets up close to him, determined not to let it spill. He raises a frowning gaze at whoever it is that's disturbed him - only to find that it's Sh'ro. The frown disappears soon enough, turning into a shy smile, accompanied by a blush. "Hello." That page he was reading is marked, though he doesn't close his book just yet. "No whisky tonight?"

Like he's pleasantly surprised to find Rhydian here, Sh'ro dons a wide, charming grin. "Well, hello there, handsome." He glances at the other man's glass and then to where his own is getting poured. "Maybe later. Depends on how late I have to stay out. I'd rather start with wine than end with it, if you know what I mean." He probably doesn't even know what he means, admittedly. "Light reading?"

"I, um, just got a good bottle from some Northern traders." Could that be an invitation? Rhydian blushes, running his tongue almost nervously across his bottom like. "For playing, uh, navigator." His blue eyes turn down to the pages that are open when Sh'ro mentions his book, and he shakes his head as he runs his fingers through his mop of curls. "Oh. No. Studies. Ah… this is a copy of an old journal." And not interesting enough to warrant his attention any more, as he flips the book shut to focus on the greenrider. "Boring, really. Um… how're you?"

"Oh, really? Are you the sharing sort?" Wine is apparently one of the many ways to Sh'ro's heart. Or whatever it is that makes him like people. Probably things best left unmentioned, actually. The greenrider doesn't really look convinced that the studying thing is boring. Rhydian seems to like it well enough. But he's also not going to complain about more attention being on him. "I'm good. Great, really. Just been making the rounds since I've found myself woefully unattached tonight." Dreadful.

Woefully unattached /is/ dreadful. Maybe. Sort of. Possibly /not/, given the fact lights up Rhydian's smile. "Do you, um, not think of me as the sharing sort?" He's shyly surprised, picking up his tumbler to sip from it. "I can share. I can, ah, trade, maybe, too, um… if you wanted to. Maybe." Awkwardness makes his flirting attempts even worse than usual, though he does look up at the greenrider with what could be a hopeful smile.

Sh'ro has likely noticed as much, the way he's watching Rhydian with amused confidence. Even some hope of his own! "I think you've been very generous as long as I've known you." Which, of course, hasn't been all that long. But he's enjoyed what company he's gotten up to this point pretty well! "Was that just the storm, though, or do you like to share when it's nice out, too?" Sh'ro is an avid shopper, so the mention of a trade piques his interest. "Trade for what?" He makes it sound pretty suggestive.

"Oh. Um. Storms…" Rhydian blushes /deeply/ now, biting down on his lip hard as his gaze drops - though not to look at his own feet. He's totally looking at Sh'ro's instead. "Storms are… special." Up comes his blue-eyed gaze, and he shrugs with coy apologeticness. "I like storms. I like to be able to see the stars too, but storms, ah, make me, um… /tingly/." And other things, which the greenrider learnt earlier. The Starcrafter looks up to knock down the rest of his whisky, shifting his weight towards Sh'ro. "What would you, um, trade for… for say a few drinks. In, um, my room… o-or anywhere else you'd like?"

His wine has been dropped off for awhile now but Sh'ro is entirely too focused on Rhydian to pay much attention to that. He's grinning in a way that's probably more sincere than he tends to offer random one-nighters. Blushing like Rhydian is blushing is kind of endearing, even to a man like Sh'ro. "Probably just about whatever you want," he admits as he leans in closer to lower his voice. "You don't have to give me drinks to get me to go home with you, though. You know that, right?"

Rhydian shakes his head. Nope, it would seem he didn't know that - or he's pretending not to know. Either way, his cheeks flare up even more redly, and he responds to Sh'ro's lean with a bit of his own, just a fractional inclination towards the taller man. "I want, um…" Capturing his bottom lip between his teeth, he leans in further, reaching up so he's able to lower his voice to whispered words right into Sh'ro's ear. Then he backs up, signalling to the bartender than he needs a refill and fiddling with the edge of his book out of shy nervousness.

The whisper earns an approving sound from the greenrider. "Seems we have a delightfully common interest, journeyman." He's probably not trying to sound like a narcissist, he's just distracted by the moment. "How about we finish our drinks and then we can go back to your place? Unless you'd like to take a trip somewhere where we won't have to hide from the stars." That sounds practically romantic coming out of Sh'ro's mouth, but this is Sh'ro so it probably shouldn't be read into too deeply.

His second drink arrives, and Rhydian grasps it with a quick thanks to the 'tender, raising the tumbler to his lips to drink a hearty gulp. "Um…" He sets his glass down, taking a hesitant half-step towards Sh'ro, emboldened by the greenrider's words. "There's a - there's meant to be a, uh, storm over…" Rhyd pauses to swallow, and clear his throat. "Ista. Or clear skies here." His hand reaches out to tentatively rest on the rider's chest - a fleeting touch which he quickly pulls back. "I don't mind."

The greenrider picks up his wine to gulp in a fashion that it's really not intended for, but he's eager. And he's definitely not above making it obvious where his interests lay. "I think we should probably take a trip to Ista, then. Zaryth won't mind." And even if she did, Sh'ro wouldn't tell Rhydian. "She likes it there." There's a flash of a smile and then he's working at the rest of his wine like it's a common beer.

"Even in a storm?" Rhydian's excitement levels are rising, that storm-inspired twinkle very present in his blue eyes. Why wouldn't anyone, person or dragon, not like a storm? He touches Sh'ro's chest again, pressing his hand flat against him while raising his whisky to his lips. "I'll, um, get that bottle from my room. Before we go." What whisky he had left disappears in a cough-inducing gulp - maybe he tried downing just a little too much for one mouthful. Blushing more deeply, he curls his fingers briefly against the rider's chest, stepping in closer to him so there's actual foot-to-foot, almost chest-to-chest contact as he looks up. "Where shall I meet you?"

"She'll use it as an excuse to cozy up to someone, I'm sure," says Sh'ro about his lifemate, assuming that's who Rhydian is talking about. This proximity seems to suit the greenrider very well, too, though he refrains from leaning into the kiss that his glance toward the journeyman's lips suggests he'd like to steal. Even when he leans down slightly, it's only to say, "Meet us in the bowl. Outside the craft complex? It won't take long to get her ready." Even he sounds thankful of that.

The potential for a kiss has Rhydian's lips parting - and only when Sh'ro speaks does he actually remember that he needs to breathe. He grins as he draws in a sharp breath, nodding his head. "Ok." His fingers curl briefly tight in Sh'ro's shirt, then he lets go and smoothes the fabric, picking up his book from the bar. "Ok." Breathy with his eagerness, he nods once more. "I'll see you there? Um…" He almost looks like he's about to leave before he stops, looks back up at Sh'ro… and reaches up to claim that uncaptured kiss in a whisky-tasting, no doubt whisky-inspired bold move. Then away he pulls, laughing with awkward shyness. "See you soon." He'll be waiting there, alright.

Boldness is something that surprises Sh'ro, even if it really shouldn't, but receives a rather warm, eager return once the brief surprise has passed. The greenrider is grinning as he watches Rhydian turn to go and he stands there for a few moments before remembering that he needs to get moving, too. Fortunately he can start bothering Zaryth long before he sees her properly, and the pair will be right where Sh'ro said they'd be to pick up their passenger.

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