K'vvan, D'wane, R'zel


Ocelot's leadership discuss their recent cold weather drills over warm beverages.


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


Southern Barrier Hold - The Klah Bark

OOC Date 30 Sep 2017 05:00


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Yeah, the curses when he was supposedly in agony were pretty realistic.


The Klah Bark

Welcome to the Klah Bark, hippest joint in the Hold. The place where everyone gathers to get that needed Klah fix. A curved bar dominates the space to the left of the doorway, laden with tiered trays of delectable pastries and square wooden canisters of herbs to add that extra spice to your brew. Behind the klah bar is a large hearth where all the magic happens. Baking a variety of snacks to tempt the pallet and brewing the signature Klah the place is known for. The recipe of which is a closely guarded secret. Smith crafted workshop stools line the curved bar for those who wish to gather and socialize briefly. While a smattering of hewn wooden tables fill in the rest of the room for those who would rather linger and enjoy.

"…never sharding gets warm." The weather is always an easy set, especially in SBH where hella cold is what it simply is. K'vvan pushes open the door and holds it for the bronzerider coming in behind him, shivering deeply from the chill. "If we didn't need to do those fucking ice drills I swear I would never come up here for anything but those hot springs again."

And said bronzerider will be following quickly behind K'vvan because one, there's klah here and two, since it's hella cold holding open doors lets out some of that precious, precious heat and so should only be done for as little time as possible. "It's not that bad in summer…" says the person that comes from somewhere pretty close to a Northern version of Southern Barrier, just a smidgeon warmer. Nevermind that summer is still frozen. "It's a break from boiling."
That person/bronzerider is totally D'wane

"Still cold enough to freeze balls off if you aren't careful." Though D'wane is right, as K'vvan reaches to pull the door closed against a sudden wind that would REALLY LIKE TO KEEP IT OPEN KTHANKS. With the click K'vvan begins to shrug out of his warm coat over his leathers and heads inwards. There's enough familiarity for K'vvan to head himself towards a booth out in the back as a perky little barista follows them. K'vvan's order is fairly bland before she's looking all flirty-like at D'wane. Hello Mr. Muscles.

"I'm in the habit of being careful with my balls everywhere." D'wane kinda likes those and would like them to remain on him, thank you very much. Not even the parka that he's currently wiggling out of can hide all the muscles. It's impossible and so flirty like looks from baristas are pretty much par for the course. And D'wane's order is less bland. Caramel and whipped cream and maybe some other things. Any bets on if it's going to come out with a picture in the foam? "If you don't want to come here for ice drills, know a few places in High Reaches… but it's colder up there now than it is here." Because they're in actual winter. Not this pseudo-winter that is what they get for summer.

R'zel is a minute behind K'vvan and D'wane, and locates their table and makes his way over to it in time to arrive before the others have finished placing their orders. His is for a spicy tea with lots of ginger in it: very warming, no foam. He peels of his flying jacket and unwinds the several loops of scarf that are around his neck. "High Reaches gets rainy," he comments, draping his outerwear over the back of a chair.

"High Reaches can go shove it up their ass." K'vvan slips himself into the booth and gestures towards the two of them to sit on the other side. (He's got personal space issues, okay? Or maybe they look cute next to one another.) "If we have the place to train we're going to sharding stay at home." K'vvan leans back in the booth, arms coming to settle across his chest. "The wing didn't do too badly though." Grumbly admission.

"Which means more ice." D'wane points out, so possibly that would be another benefit for ice drills. Or would end up with dragon ice sculptures. He'll slip on into the booth, but well, even if he's trying not to take up much space, it doesn't leave too much room for R'zel, but the larger rider at least made an attempt to squish. An attempt. "Nah, they didn't. And Mo'rel does make a pretty convincing victim." Some smuck had to pull the short straw to be the rescuee instead of the rescuer. IT was mushroom head today.

R'zel eyes the remaining space, and pulls up a chair instead, grinning as he sits down even though he's now sticking out into the gap between tables. "Yeah, the curses when he was supposedly in agony were pretty realistic. And nobody's chair-knots came undone, which is an improvement: I guess the practice is paying off."

R'zel's butt is sticking out in space~ "If only he had tried to not scream so much like a girl though - he's either going to get laid hard tonight, or never touched again." K'vvan falls quiet as the perky barista comes up again with their drinks. She's gonna try to flirt with D'wane and R'zel, giving them HUGE SMILES and maybe even doing a very slight boob brush against R'zel. Totally accidental~ "Those new ropes the sea crafters gave us were better at keeping up in the cold."

D'wane nods silent approval when R'zel decides to not try squishing in and claims a seat instead. That means he can spread back out and actually sit like a normal (but gigantic) person. The foam in his drink also does have a design, or several. It's a lot of hearts. A LOT OF HEARTS. He'll give a wink towards the barista as he takes a very tentative sip at the drink, but it's still way too hot so that's going to be set down again. "It sounded like he practiced those screams. I'm just glad he's not my neighbor." Because solid rock can do some really weird things to acoustics. "Didn't the miners also have another suggestion for ropes? Are we going to try those out next time?"

R'zel shifts slightly to put air between himself and any part of the waitress's anatomy, though he thanks her nicely for the drink. "Oh, yes, they reckon they've got some that are more resistant to friction. I suppose that's pretty useful underground, where they can snag on rocks and so on a lot. I don't know what makes them different, though, and we should check whether they're heavier."

"Crafters." There's a clear grumble in K'vvan's tone. "Can't they leave shit well enough alone?" It's not a real objection because K'vvan follows it right up with, "If they are heavier I don't want to chance it. Not everyone is a muscled freak." That is directed at D'wane's giganticness. A finger touches the foam lightly on top of the Klah as K'vvan grumps about it. The waitress is quite put off by R'zel being all 'nope' and is just going to go be sad over there.

And that muscled freak comment is just going to be shrugged off. D'wane understands that K'vvan might be jealous. Not everyone gets to be as awesome as D'wane. "Nah. that's part of what makes crafters crafters. Always need to be innovating." At least at Southern. There's still plenty of enclaves of hidebound crafters elsewhere though. "Checking if they're heavier should be easy enough though."

R'zel nods at the comment on innovation. Ex-crafter here. "Yes. I can follow that one up, and then if they're not, we can try some next time." R'zel thinks for a moment. "I suppose, if we worked out exactly what we need, we could talk to a ropemaker about getting it. But I thought the Seacraft ones worked pretty well today, better than what we had before. And nobody set Mo'rel swinging too badly."

Hey, M'noq likes K'vvan just how he is. #justsaying. "Good," That responsibility is placed neatly on R'zel's shoulders. Keeping K'vvan away from the crafters is probably a full time job anyway, so an excuse to not is awesome! "They were more flexible in the cold - probably because they have to drop that shit down in the cold waters."

"Plus, seacrafters know their life depends on their ropes," D'wane nods and apparently is convinced the seacrafters have a pretty fair quality control process. Not that he's not going to be checking his own rope before using it if his life depends on it, but it's good to know they probably will get less rejected ropes. "I'll do sweep schedules for next week while you sort out the rope thing." Let the former crafter talk to the other crafters. Also, R'zel is definitely the most diplomatic out of the three present.

"All right," R'zel agrees. "The seacraft ones will probably be better in wet conditions, too, then. Well, it won't be hard to find an opportunity to try that out." R'zel warms his fingers on his tea mug before drinking. "Is there anything from today that we ought to pick up for extra practice?" R'zel takes an interest in those practices. "The search went pretty smoothly - good communication." `

K'vvan will give a vague thumbs up gesture for the way his wingseconds are splitting up the work. "I didn't see anything we absolutely need to work on. There aren't any falls so the chance of a dragon getting hurt on the ice is fairly slim." Thus, there's no reason to attempt a mock S&R on that. "How goes shit with the guards?" Directing towards D'wane.

It takes a moment for D'wane to respond to K'vvan since his drink is finally cool enough to drink and he's right in the middle of a long sip. Mmm, delicious caramel klah. "Alright. Working with one of the sergeants to pair up some of the recruits with some of our less skilled" There's a slight frown on that word. He means almost hopeless, "riders for extra practice. Could probably also look at doing some stuff with Jaguar as well."

R'zel shoots a suspicious glance in D'wane's direction, but the fortunate truth is, he's clawed his way out of the 'almost hopeless' category at last, even if he's usually got a nice set of bruises to show from the last self-defence session. "That might be motivating, doing something with another wing. Well, depending on how we do, I suppose. But the variety will keep people on their toes."

The benefit of rank is that K'vvan can do his own practice ALL BY HIMSELF so that the rest of the wing doesn't laugh at his skinny ass. From across the room the door opens and someone comes in. Abruptly K'vvan pushes himself to his feet rather than continue the conversation. "I'll see you back at the weyr." Striding over he'll grab the new person - dark hair, lighter skin, green eyes, push the person (in their warm clothing it's hard to tell if it's a man or woman, and shove them out of the Klah Bark's door roughly. They are PROBABLY not BFFs. NBD, right?

Hey, it'll give R'zel some new sparring partners besides having to put up with D'wane, although he doesn't feel that guilty about all the bruises that he's inflicted on R'zel. It could possibly save his life. And also, R'zel has gotten better. Relatively. At K'vvan's rather abrupt departure, D'wane's just going to raise one of his rather magnificent eyebrows and point his eyes towards the exiting pair. No words needed. That look clearly just asking if the other man has any idea what that was all about.

R'zel gives a slow, expressive shrug, then shakes his head. "I couldn't see who it was - don't think I recognised them. He didn't look happy, though." The 'he' in question would be K'vvan, rather than the newcomer. "Well, I guess that's the debriefing over. Anything you and I need to talk about? As far as I know, nobody else has done anything particularly stupid since F'kan." He seems to take the fact that people will do stupid things as a matter of course - see what being wingsecond has done to him!

"Guess everyone's entitled to a few secrets." Or more than a few. D'wane's just going to shrug. That was the extent of effort he was willing to put in to figuring out who this mystery man or woman their wingleader was meeting with is. And when does K'vvan ever look happy? "I don't think so. Seems like everybody else has been on pretty good behavior after that." Because one idiot in the wing is more than enough, right?

"Long may it continue." R'zel tosses back more of his tea, then opens his mouth to breathe as the spices grab his throat. "And let's hope he's learned his lesson, too. Shells, it's not as if the planet's short of girls."

"Seriously," D'wane will agree. Like there was that barista over there that was practically throwing herself at R'zel. She may or may not still be pouting off in the corner as she makes more drinks. "Can't imagine the weyrlings are going to be friendly to him knowing what he's being punished for." Not that it's exactly been announced why, but if there's one thing the Weyr loves, it's gossip.

"Which they will," R'zel says dryly. "But that might be just as well, too. I mean, we're punishing him for taking advantage of a candidate by putting him with a bunch of weyrlings under all the same restrictions. It seems a bit like teaching a dragon not to overeat by putting him in a field of wherries." Or imprisoning the fox in the henhouse, except Pern doesn't have foxes.

"Except, the dragon's going to forget about all the times he got thicktail in a couple days and do it all over again," And presumably their errant brownrider at least has more memory than a dragon. "The weyrlingmaster went along with the plan so…" D'wane's just going to shrug. "I did suggest watchriding here indefinitely." But apparently that was overruled. Maybe because F'kan does still have an able bodied dragon and the weyr needs every one of them they can get.

"The Wing can do without losing a rider for this sort of thing." R'zel shrugs too: it's a done deal. He lifts his mug again, then pauses, with that familiar listening-to-dragon look in his eyes. He breathes out heavily, shaking his head. "Did you get that too? Sounds like Mo'rel needs bailing out. Talk about speaking too soon!" He downs the rest of his tea in a single swallow.
Judging from how quickly D'wane is swallowing the rest of his own drink, he did get exactly that.

"Surprised we can't hear him hollering from here." But beverages consumed, the two bronzeriders exit stage left. Off to more exciting adventures. And probably some hide work afterwards to document said exciting adventure.

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