Who

Ivy, R'xim, and E'bert

What

E'bert and Ivy meet R'xim. Alcohol is kind of discussed, and E'bert kisses Ivy.

When

It is afternoon of the twelfth day of the second month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Dustbowl Cantina, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 



Dustbowl Cantina

To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.

OOC Note: the Dustbowl's owner (currently: Jharlodar) functions as an NPC when not logged in. Don't do anything too drastic with him, but he and his staff may be referenced in poses.


Seated at the bar, a mug of klah set off to the side and a now ever present chart of some kind in front of him is E'bert. An absent sip of mostly cold klah is taken and then he's stretching. Got to loosen the muscles in the back after all. *re

Ivy adds herself to the list of riders in the Cantina who aren't boozing; her cup of tea is on the counter practically before she gets there. She winkles out of her puffy mittens and wraps her hand around the teacup with a shy smile of thanks to the bartender, who just looks mystified by her beverage preference, and drops into a seat by E'bert. "Hey. How's it going?"

R'xim enters the Cantina and makes his way toward his usual spot at the bar. Yes, he has a spot. And it just so happens that there are two other dragonriders seated nearby, so he unzips his jacket and walks over. "A shot of whiskey." is asked of the bartender when he arrives. Hey, he isn't above straight liquor, even if it's only midday. Leaning up against the bar counter, he looks at the brownriders' beverages. "Interesting." he muses, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

E'bert blinks a few times before a wide smile is given to Ivy, "Good. Kar's being stupid, but that's nothing new," of course he knows why the brown is acting the way he is, "How's things with you?" because he really wants to know, and it's been forever since they just hung out together. R'xim gets a wry grin, "Can't drink. Found that out the hard way," grimace for the memory, "I'm told breathing is all the rage," is that an attempt at humor? If one were to go by the distant rumble from the rider's brown, it probably is. Then E'bert's eyeballing the other man's knot. Bronze, Whirlwind, salute is given. Hey, bronze ranks brown so there it is, "I'm E'bert, brown Karkath's," a nod to Ivy, "That's Ivy, brown Udath's," because E'bert's not familiar with R'xim.

But maybe it's /alcohol-y/ tea! (It totally isn't). Ivy rolls her eyes fondly at the old song-and-dance regarding Karkath and his intelligence or lake thereof and flashes E'bert an easy smile. "Same as always. Nothing new. How are you feeling?" Yes, she's still nagging. As E'bert suddenly starts making introductions, Ivy turns in her seat to see the recipient and…it's another massive bronzerider. She hunches over her tea, trying to look, if possible, even smaller.

When the shot glass is placed in front of him, R'xim lifts it up and nods to the brownriders. "Cheers." He offers before giving an introduction. The liquid is quickly gulped and he sets the empty glass back down on the counter. A salute is flicked back to the younger riders, "R'xim, rider of bronze Shalnth. Well met." He can't conceal the smirk any longer when E'bert comments on drinking. "Oh come on, you've got to start somewhere." Hey, he learned the hard way many times and it just never sunk in. Ivy is then glanced at and he chin nods toward her, still addressing the lad: "She your girlfriend?"

"No," E'bert answers the question of 'girlfriend' first, but the slight flush that creeps over his face could make one question the validity of that answer, "I think you misunderstand. I. Can't. Drink. Ever," glance towards the door, "The weyr would find itself short a brown," a grin is given to Ivy, "I'm good. It's just a minor itch the healers say will fade with time," he'd show her that the 'scoring is indeed healed, but that seems somehow wildly inappropriate just now.

"He swells up and can't breathe," Ivy offers quietly (and flatteringly), since she's been spotted anyway, and salutes for the same reason. "Nice to meet you, R'xim." She is fine with letting E'bert answer the girlfriend question; since he gets it right she merely offers a small nod to back him up. She watches the bronzerider down his shot, looking, it must be said, sort of impressed.

"Ya don't say? " R'xim says in response to Ivy's explanation. To E'bert: "Then why come to a bar if you can't drink? You're just setting yourself up, kid." Scratching at the stubble on his jaw, the bronzer tries not to be so critical and changes the subject back to women. "So, if she's not your girlfriend, you got one? There are some very fine looking ladies around here." Ivy is glanced at again and he whispers to E'bert, loud enough for her to hear. "Although you've got to admit it, she's pretty cute, eh?"

E'bert glares at R'xim, "Ivy is not some object to be stared at," his normally rich baritone is flat, as the glare deepens, "My choice of establishments, and the reasons behind them are not your concern," the klah is now long forgotten as the younger rider stands, "If you even think of touching Ivy without her consent, I'll knock y'er teeth down y'er throat," glare.

Ivy watches the bronzerider through lowered lashes, reaching over to fidget with the corner of chart that E'bert has spread in front of him until she overhears R'xim and blushes all the way to the roots of her hair. And then there's her clutchmate just going off and she pins him with a pale wide-eyed stare, fishmouthed through the diatribe until she manages to find her voice. "E'bert, he didn't do anything…"

"Whooaa. Slow your roll, kid." R'xim says with a grin, raising both hands in surrender. If the teen was a little older and a bit bigger, he might've gotten a tad bit offended by the accusatory tone. But, in this case, he's amused at the bristle. "Seriously, sit back down." A hand motions to the seat and he really is going to need another drink to handle the hormones in the room. As if the bartender can read his mind, another full shot glass is placed in front of him. "Fair warning, if you come to a bar with a single woman, you can't expect her to not get hit on. Especially if she's cute." The second shot is gulped and he shrugs his shoulders at E'bert. "Just some friendly advice."

E'bert glares a bit more before he does finally sit back down. Ivy's given a look, then he's taking a sip of his klah which is now ice cold. Uncharacteristicly, the teen ignores this and sets the mug back in its place. Does he say anything? Nope. He's working instead on getting his anger under control, someone touched a nerve an apparently the nerve is a little raw. Ivy's glanced at again then he's staring down at the chart in front of him. Dragon anatomy? Wing formation? He really doesn't care at the moment.

So now it's on Ivy to make nice, or at least as a well brought up holder-girl she feels like it is, though the look she levels at R'xim when he downs his second shot is skeptical. And then also, again, blushy. Darn that complexion. "Are…you new here?" she ventures over and around E'bert's spikiness. "I don't think I've seen you before." Though it is true that she doesn't get out much.

Yup, R'xim has a habit of getting on people's nerves a lot. That's probably why he gets into bar fights and has scars on his knuckles from the amount of teeth he's knocked out of people's heads. "Just transferred from High Reaches a few sevendays ago." is his response to Ivy. Not making eye contact with her out of respect for his younger cohort, Rix leans up against the counter again. "Aww, come on, E'bert. Lighten up. How about some warmer klah, eh?" That should help, right? To Ivy: "Is he normally this sensitive?"

A few more moments of silence stretches by before E'bert looks up from his charts, "Thank you, no," he's looking towards the door and wondering if he can coax his brown lump of a dragon awake for an excuse to leave? Though the fresh klah is placed in front of him anyway. So now for the topic change, even though his voice is still bristly, "Anyway you can talk to that blue that rides just to your left and slightly behind? He was out of formation during drills today, Ivy," he's not looking at R'xim. Pretending, in fact, that the older man isn't even there. Which is probably the best solution until he calms down. After all E'bert never knows when his little sister will pop up, and if word gets back to their foster mother he was fighting… Again… He'd be out of luck with the fresh baked goodies for more than a month.

Ivy tries to hide behind her teacup until her face is a more normal shade. We'll see how long that lasts. "And you're with the Whirlies." She probably could have sussed that even /without/ the knot, since he's a bronzerider, and huge, and scary. "How do you find Igen?" She cuts a look over at E'bert. "He's just being protective. He's like my brother." And then she adds the phrase he probably likes least, "He's like my brother." With a soft sigh through her nose when she realizes she's been shoved into a diplomat's role now, she crinkles her nose at the brownrider's request. "I did, he said he doesn't have to listen to me. You do it."

Since it's only midday after all, R'xim shouldn't order ale in front of the younger riders. It'd set a bad example and all, especially since he's already had two shots of whiskey. "Igen is a change of pace for me, that's for sure. Not so strict as High Reaches, probably due to the amount Oldtimers that are here." Just an observation. "How long ago did you two graduate?" Although he shouldn't assume they just graduated since he himself Impressed at fourteen. Hopefully he didn't just dig a deeper hole with the lad sitting next to him. That would be bad.

E'bert blinks a couple times, then he's back to staring at the charts, "I'll tell him, but I don't think he'll like it," which means someone could find himself in trouble with the wing's leader. A glance towards the bronzer, and then one for Ivy, "What? Two Turns or so?" questioning glance for his fellow brownrider. She's not good with charts, he's not good with time. Perfect pair they are. Has he calmed down? Probably not completely, but at least enough to be civil. Somewhere there's a brown dragon pretending he doesn't know, or even own, E'bert.

But it's five o'clock somewhere! "Well he said he didn't have to listen to some brownriding girl, so I can't do anything with that," Ivy gripes faintly to E'bert, and then to R'xim, conversationally, "I've never been to Reaches. Well. Never been anywhere, really." The 'timers remark passes without comment, clueless as she is in regards to timing politics. "Yeah. Couple of Turns," she echoes, "And change. Seems like much less."

"Oh yeah? That long ago, eh?" R'xim recollects his weyrlinghood and how his best friend got mauled at the Hatching. Now that's a story to be told over many stiff drinks. And since the riders in question don't drink, he slides some marks toward the bartender and zips up his jacket. "Well, I really need to get going. Drills." A hand reaches out to clap E'bert on the shoulder in true understanding and appreciation for his short fuse. In reference to Ivy's comment and in closing to E'bert: "If you ever need backup to defend Ivy's honor, give me a shout. I'll be there in a flash." Grinning, the bronzer steps away from the counter and rather than give Ivy a kiss on the cheek — as he normally would when meeting a woman at a bar — he simply nods and winks at her. "Clear skies." And out he goes.

E'bert glares again, then sighs as he turns to stare down at his chart. Deciding he's not going to get anything done before sweeps starts, E'bert rolls the chart up before putting it into its tube, "Bit of an over reaction?" is asked, though he already knows the answer to that question. Of course it was, "Damn it Ivy, why do you keep telling people I'm like a brother?" honest question, and it's finally asked which may or may not earn him a slap.

"E, you're going to get slapped with all kinds of punishments if you go off on bronzeriders like that, he's senior to you. In addition to riding bronze! And he's W'rin's guy!" Ivy chews on her lower lip and shakes her head. "He didn't mean any harm." She huffs a sigh and takes a slow sip from her tea, now as cold as E'bert's klah, and then tilts her head at him looking mildly hurt. "'Cause you are. You look after me. Like my brothers did, and N'zi."

E'bert sighs as he ponders a few things, then leans over and kisses Ivy, "I don't want to be your brother," he finally states pulling back. Slap? Oh if that doesn't earn a slap, nothing will as for the rest, "I've been through worse," like being exiled from his home? Okay, he chose to stay on as an apprentice but still, "And really the worst W'rin can do is transfer me to a different Weyr," because dragon.

Shock, and confusion, and a bit of muppet-arm-flailing; Ivy doesn't slap but she is most certainly confused. "Shards, E, what was that for? Is there some proddy green out in the bowl that I don't know about? It's not Nadeeth, is it?" There's a high spot of color in each cheekbone and she touches her lips with a fingertip, not grossed out but definitely bewildered.

"No," E'bert says, hiding the hurt from his voice, but not his eyes, "I gotta go," and he's up and out the door without even looking back.

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