Who

Divale, Eala

What

Eala oversees an awkward rescue/capture of a old man under the influence and Divale briefly joins her to watch the show…

swearing

When

It is evening of the twenty-eighth day of the first month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lake Shore, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 27 Jan 2018 05:00

 

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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


It's the world's most awkward rescue mission. Despite the frigid temperatures, an older man with wild hair and sans pants (although thankfully with some form of briefs so nothing is flapping about in the breeze) frolics in Igen's lake. He splashes about in the shallower waters, singing a bawdy tune and simultaneously evading his two bulky guard pursuers. They've followed him from the Bazaar, where he made something of a scene 'streaking' through the midst of the stalls — enough of a scene to have attracted the attention of Parhelion's Acting Wingleader, who stands safely on the shore. Eala watches the increasingly comedic proceeding with one hand half-covering her face, silently shaking her head every time the man willingly nosedives into the frigid water to scramble away from the frustrated guards.

“I’m rather impressed,” The beginnings of that dry, utterly sarcastic comment, can come from only one source… and sure enough, Divale quietly joins Eala at her side. Her duties saw her busy elsewhere for this portion of the evening but once those were done and word was relayed (read: gossip in the Bazaar)? As (one of) Parhelion’s Wingseconds, she has to investigate, right? “He hasn’t succumbed to hypothermia yet.” If she’s amused, she’s doing a very good job masking it as her dark gaze follows the older man’s wild cavorting through the shallows. Those poor, poor Guards! A slight tilt of her head and she peers sidelong to Eala in an inquiring manner. What’re the details? “Raving mad? Or drunk off his ass?” Both?

"I think whatever he got himself into-" Alcohol? Senility? Something else entirely? "-gives him an immunity to the cold." Or at least such an utter lack of awareness that he has yet to notice that he's going to end up hypothermic. The crazed man starts heading out toward deeper waters with a flailing breaststroke, and the pursuing guards pause, torn between duty and not submerging themselves entirely in the freezing lake. "There'll be a place in the baths and plenty of warm drinks for you, just get on it!" Eala calls out, sympathetic but unrelenting. They're clearly reluctant, but they pursue the man as ordered. Still half keeping an eye on the proceedings, the greenrider glances at Divale before admitting with a heavy sigh, "Report is he was seen purchasing something blue." They both know what that means. "I've got a couple of people investigating that now."

Divale smirks, “At least he had the decency to keep his underclothes on.” No one wants to see that and especially her! Not enough whiskey in Igen right now for her to deal with that scenario. As the man decides to truly go for a swim, she’ll scoff under her breath for the Guards hesitation until Eala’s order (and bribery) get them to pursue. At the report of ‘something blue’, Divale begins to mutter a string of curses under her breath — loud enough that Eala could make out a few. “It’s getting fucking ridiculous, this fad. I thought it would end with the youths ingesting the damn forgeries!” she mutters, “Or the idiots using it on their genitals… You’d think THAT would stop people! This is a waste of our time.” Somebody’s getting prickly about it! Or maybe Divale’s miffed because one of her connections came under investigation… could be a variety of reasons.

Eala grimaces at the idea of what this situation would be like had the man not chosen to remain at least mostly clothed. "I don't think he had the focus to finish taking off his clothes, honestly." Which is a sad statement on the effects of whatever 'blue stuff' he ingested. "Hopefully what we're looking at is only temporary." The man doesn't get too far before the guards overtake him, given that they're far more powerful swimmers and he's already floundering. Although he continues to struggle, they're able to at least drag him back into shallow waters. At that point, he goes limp and returns to singing his bawdy tunes while they tug him ashore. "Take him to the brig to sober up, if you would, and then you're relieved of duty for the evening. I'll pass on the message." Although she may not be sharing in Divale's colorful language, she's clearly just as fed up with the entire situation as she watches the man being dragged off, still clearly out of his mind. "I'm sure they all think that as long as they're not buying it from the same people as those idiots, they're just fine."

“I suppose there’s no way of knowing what he took or even a sample?” Divale’s back to her usual dry murmured tones as she observes the fallout before them. There’s only the faintest twitch of a smirk for the Guards when they successfully capture and drag the man back and she adds to Eala’s orders only after she has finished speaking. “No orders to give the man a blanket? How cruel.” She’s teasing of course. That sort of stuff is routine and goes without saying, but leave it to her not to make some remark on it — and allude to the fact that she’d approve of such cold hearted behaviour. Her observation just earns another scoff. “You’re probably right.” Which makes it all the worse. “And you would think they’ve run out of ideas or that the true information would dissuade most from wanting it.” Unfortunately, that’s not just their luck, is it?

"I'm hoping the two I have investigating in the Bazaar will be able to bring something back." With any luck, they'll have more to go off of than 'something blue'. With a lot of luck, they'll even manage to track down the seller. Not that cutting off that particular source will make much of a difference — whoever he (she?) is, they're certainly not the only culprit. "Someone will give him a blanket," Eala mutters with a roll of her eyes, not overly concerned for the man's welfare. Whoever is on duty in the brig will see to him, provided he doesn't earn that person's ire. No doubt the greenrider will be by later to check on him, as well. "Everyone thinks they're smarter than every other fool at Igen. Aren't you convinced you'd be able to tell the fake from the real?" A pointed look is given to the brownrider.

Oh no. No, Eala you won’t trap Divale so easily! Even if she tempts fate by allowing a small, ghost of a wry smile curve her lips. “I tend to be very wary of anything I consume or use for medicinal purposes,” she murmurs in her usual vague manner. That’d be ‘yes’, she could. Better yet because she stole some of the damn stuff for herself. Humor fades to a grim look, “We should be placing more caution for those who insist on studying the true source. Kurkar’s people are a fickle bunch and my sources tell me it’s only getting worse. But who are we to tell the Craftsmen and Holders what to do, hmm?” Sarcasm at its finest and she sighs. “As pleasant as this has been… I’ve some business to attend to, before the night grows later.” What it is exactly? Divale doesn’t share. She rarely does! Instead, another smirk that borders on a faint smile. “Drinks, sometime?” It’s not technically against the ‘rules’. They’re almost equal rank, even if Eala is in ‘Acting Wingleader’ purgatory.

The brownrider's non-answer is good enough for Eala, who meets the other woman's smirk with raised brows. "That's what I thought." Does she suspect that Divale has secured a stash of the stuff for herself? Probably — she knows the brownrider isn't always on the up-and-up — but if she does suspect as much, she doesn't say anything. As long as that stolen product isn't making its way back onto the market, she doesn't care. "More caution in regards to who's allowed to study it and where that studying happens?" she asks with a small frown. It's not exactly their territory, but surely someone should be looking into this. "We can't tell the Craftsmen and Holders what to do, but we can certainly suggest to Kurkar that they either find trustworthy guards or hire our people to keep an eye on things. If we can get multiple points of authority saying that none of it is leaving Kurkar, maybe we can cut down on this epidemic." In other words, if enough important people say that it's all fake, maybe more people will show skepticism. Although she does raise one eyebrow at Divale's mysterious errand, all she says is, "Drinks any time." At least that offer is something to look forward to, and far better than the duty of checking in on their addle-minded friend which now awaits her.

Divale merely nods her head in mute agreement to all. Some of those points she’ll mull over, but for now her comment is withheld. “Until later then, Eala.” Which will likely be as early as the next morning, given their duties overlap and there’s bound to be PT or something to draw their paths together for a span of time. A vague salute and smirk are given in parting and then she’s turning to wander back and disappear within the Weyr, leaving Eala to “enjoy” the rest of her night and with hopefully far less drunks or crazed folk running amok.

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