Who

Sienna, Thierry

What

Thierry bumps into Sienna. He spews his emotional guts. She's a willing ear.

When

It is evening of the eighteenth day of the second month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr Central Bowl and Dustbowl Cantina

OOC Date

 

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Central Bowl

Cradled, childlike, in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, the wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the northeastern bazaar, the adobe sprawl of the New Weyr reflected in the lake that dominates a large portion of outdoor Igen. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the shores, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. One cracked path, faint with disuse, leads southeast to the crumbling ruins of Igen-that-was. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.


It's evening, and the sky over Igen Weyr is just beginning to darken to twilight as Rukbat sinks into the final leg of the day's journey. Dinnertime for some, no doubt; though for Thierry, the hour brings a quick-march saunter across the bowl towards the bazaar. He's looking sharp in his guard uniform, though there's a healing cut on his bottom lip and a heckuva bruise under one of his eyes, which almost reaches the one on his temple. Someone's had a rough time of it! But he doesn't exactly seem /bothered/, as he whistles a jaunty tune while stomping on his merry way.

From above, a dark green dragon circles down and lands about ten yards away from where Thierry marches. Pushing up her riding goggles and pulling off her helmet, Sienna smiles and lifts a hand to wave. "Thierry!" she calls, glancing around to see if there's anyone else around. Swinging a leg over, she nimbly dismounts and straightens her riding leathers. Kehemath settles down onto her belly and rumbles softly in the guard's direction, her eyes spinning slowly and the tip of her tail twitching.

Whoa there - big dragon /right/ next to him. Thierry's not /quite/ that used to being close to the beasties yet, and Kehemath's landing startles him into stopping dead. His frown is an attempt to hide the nerves he has at being so close, though the sort of familiar voice calling his name does ease it somewhat. Eyes flicker up beneath his floppy forelock of dark hair to watch Sienna dismount, and he stands waiting for her with his hands dug deep into his pockets - the rider may notice him drumming his fingers against his thigh through his trousers, perhaps due to being nervous. "Uh, Assistant Weyrlingmaster… evening?" He's hesitant - what's he done to warrant a dragon dropping out of the air beside him?

Sienna approaches with a smile, warm and inviting, until she sees his face. "Shards!" the greenrider murmurs as she approaches, tilting her head to try and get a better look at his face in the fading light. "What happened? Are you okay?" Kehemath stays where she is. Just for a moment, because in the next she's pushing to her feet and beginning to prowl. Circle. At a fair distance, sure, not within touching distance and there's plenty of /room/, but still…she's circling. Sienna doesn't even seem to notice, her focus on his face instead.

"Huh?" For a moment there, Thierry's confused; /then/ he remembers the state of his face. "/Oh/. Hah." He gingerly touches a finger to his black eye, then to the scabbed-over cut on his lip. "This?" They're what she means, right? A smug, crooked smile grows on his lips - at least until it tugs too painfully on that cut and causes him to grimace. "First arrest." Thierry is /proud/, standing up straighter and holding his chin up at a haughty sort of angle. "Phib. He's in the brig now. Bastard used to be one of my boys, but took him down." Up come his fists, shadowboxing; a few quick jabs followed by what could be a power-packed wallop, if he was putting his full effort into it. "Caught him, er…" Circling Kehemath distracts him in his proud recollection, making him lose his train of thought as he tries to follow her movement without being /too/ obvious in watching her.

Sienna smiles, lifting her hands, palms out, as if in invitation for him to punch her palms as he shadowboxes. "Ahh. What'd he do? Clearly it didn't go…all that smoothly. But congratulations on your first arrest. I think that warrants a drink, eh? Next one's on me, just tell them to put it on my tab." She pays for most of her food and drink with cheese. It's difficult to keep track of Kehemath when he moves behind him, but she's not there for long before her circling brings her back into his sight again. It's then that Sienna notices it and flicks a glance at her lifemate that instantly draws a rumbled response, and the green flops onto her belly to watch.

A settled Kehemath does make Thierry slightly more comfortable, though his stiff posture and occasional glance over to her let on that he's still a little unsure. "Er… he had little sh—… Veresch? Veresch, yeah. In an alley. And Reilan was on him, but Phib's /big/." Twice the size of Thierry, given the way the boy uses his hands to describe his opponent's stature. "Got him down, though." He holds up his hands so Sienna can see the bruises on his knuckles, too. "Ch'ael's training came in /useful/." Which he seems surprised by. "And shell yeah, I'll take that drink. You gonna join me for it?"

Sienna looks a bit startled. "He was…what was he doing to Veresch?" Her expression shifts, frowns, and she eyes his knuckles. "Well good for you. Nice job," she remarks. "Hard to take down a man that big." Then she looks at the sky again, and across the bowl to the caverns, and then to Kehemath. She is silent for a long moment, and then nods, unwinding her riding scarf and letting it hang free, undoing her jacket as well down to the loose tunic she wears beneath. Work clothes, dusty and windswept. "Yeah, I will actually, long as you pick one of the places with food. Starving."

"But, er, what about…" Thierry looks full-on at Kehemath now, though only quickly before turning back to Sienna. "There's the, um… Dustbowl? I'm off duty now, so…" So he's free to do whatever - even if that whatever is entering the bazaar alongside an Oldtimer /woman/ rider. One currently in trousers, no less! He scrubs at the beardy fluff on his cheek, then shrugs, looking awkward and very teenager-ish; is that even a blush colouring his cheeks? "I, um… maybe have something to… to ask you. If that's ok."

Sienna glances at Kehemath, and then she grins. "Good point. Kehemath, c'mere," she calls, as if calling a canine. The green pushes to her feet but /eyes/ Thierry for a moment, even as she's approaching her rider. Reaching up, Sienna nimbly and deftly unfastens the riding straps, shouldering them without much visible effort even though they're heavy strips of leather and wherhide and stitching and metal. Riders are strong. Then she tips her head, and with a rumble Kehemath turns and kicks into the sky with swift speed. "Thanks. She'd have eaten these if I'd neglected to remove them. Dustbowl works for me, yeah." Oldtimer, ranked, woman rider in trousers and carrying her dragon's straps. How his reputation will suffer! Taking the first steps towards the bazaar, she glances over at him. "Sure, go for it," she encourages.

Thierry can't help it when Kehemath takes off - he hunches his shoulders and tries not to make it look too much like he's ducking. When Sienna starts walking though, he reaches out to tap her shoulder with a single finger. "Um… here. I need to ask /here/." Perhaps because he doesn't want the ears in the bazaar overhearing him. "How do you…" His false start is cut short, and he scowls down at the floor. This isn't something he's /good/ at. "I fucked something up with… someone. How do you fix that?"

Sienna stops, shifting the straps a bit. They're heavy, remember, and she eyes him. "I'm…going to need more information than that, I think. It's a complex question, really. Depends on what you did, and how, and to whom. What your relationship is with this person."

Giving out information isn't what Thierry had planned. He scowls down at his boot-tips, then shrugs. "Doesn't matter." Then he takes a step forward towards the bazaar, suggesting he's done on the topic he didn't even bring up; time for food and drinks! Turning to eye the straps the rider is carrying, he cants his head with a familiar hint of sexism in his expression. "You strong enough to carry them things?" Because ladies should be weak like flowers, obviously.

Sienna tilts her head at him. "Obviously it does matter, otherwise you wouldn't've brought it up," she remarks calmly. "And yes, I'm strong enough, thank you." If he'd just offered to take them she'd have been happy to hand them over, but now it's a point of pride that she does it herself. "Well, baring any more information, apologizing is usually a good start. Figuring out what you did wrong and then not doing it again."

"What if it's something you've been doing wrong for a long time?" Thierry's still frowning down at his boots, cheeks flushed deeply red now. This topic is not something he's used to discussing! "What if it's something that's never been a problem until someone /else/ brought it up, and then it becomes a /big/ one all because of one stupid fucking little girl and her fucking /big/ mouth?" /That's/ more like the snappy streetrat; Thierry kicks angrily at a rock that's in his way, sending it skittering along the ground.

Good thing Kehemath isn't here. She'd be bounding after that rock and likely scare Thierry half to death or knock him on his butt. Sienna listens, and nods a bit. Pretending it all makes sense. "Is it something you want to change? Or you feel needs to change? Or is it someone else's issue?"

"I dunno." The surly teenager kicks in, and Thierry shrugs, giving Sienna a grumpy look. Can't she just… /know/ what he's talking about, or something? Without him having to say it out loud. His hunched shoulders sink as he exhales, and he purses his lips into pout. "Doesn't matter. Don't wanna talk about it. Let's go drink." The solution to all problems: alcohol!

Why does Sienna keep getting wrapped up with surly teenagers? Faranth, he reminds her of K'vvan in that moment. Though…maybe that's a good thing, since she's really quite fond of K'vvan now. And Thierry hasn't made her cry yet, even. "Sure," she agrees, motioning for him to lead the way.

Maybe because Sienna's just sorta… /mumsy/ to Thierry. In a good way, of course! He does lead the way, glowering at anyone who dares look at them in the wrong way as they head towards the Dustbowl; he even sticks close to the greenrider's side as they walk, matching his pace to hers until they're at the venue and seated inside. And all the way, he doesn't say a single word - he just wears an expression sour as curdled milk.


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.//


Sienna walks silently too, shifting the straps a bit as she moves. Once they're inside, she'll find a table in the corner for them to sit in, neatly stacking her straps against the wall and out of the way. Then she waves a server over and opens her tab, ordering a glass of wine for herself and a hot sandwich, gesturing for Thierry to get whatever he wants.

Thierry's order is a pint of ale and the same sandwich as Sienna orders. He settles down into his seat, the excitement of sharing his first /real/ guard duty a distant memory as he slumps, all glowery and moody, with his elbows on the tabletop in front of him. After a grumpy silence, he says, "I saw that Wingsecond guy again. The one from the bazaar." Who was with Sienna when they first met. "He's off his fucking rocker."

Sienna lifts her brows a bit as she leans back in her chair and then shrugs out of her riding jacket. "K'vvan?" she asks, wiping her face with a handkerchief, then her throat, and then she tucks it away into a pocket. "What makes you say that?"

Thierry drops his chin into his hand, shrugging. "Made me wash blood off his dragon, then flipped the fuck out when I swapped his filthy rag for my shirt. And he called my mum a whore. /And/," Thi looks up at Sienna, a hint of a smirk curling up the corner of his split lip, "he thought I meant a /real/ rat, when I said his dragon /smelt/ like Rat. /My/ Rat."

Sienna's first question is, naturally, "Why does Rat smell like a dragon?" Frown. "Why'd Nadeeth have blood on her? She didn't get hurt did she?" A whore? Her head is starting to hurt.

Why does Rat smell like a dragon? The little firelizard appears, making Thierry smile fondly as he holds out his arm for the young brown to alight on. "Cos he /looks/ like one." Thi strokes his fingers over his pet, showing more affection than Sienna will likely have seen from him. "She smelt like a stronger version of him. Sorta… I dunno. The way they smell. Wasn't her blood, I don't think. Didn't see any cuts on her while I was washing." He scratches at the side of his nose, leaning back when the waitress brings their drinks. "She did smell sorta like blood, too. But mostly like Rat."

Sienna stares for a moment, and then she /laughs/. "Faranth," she says, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair, pushing curls away from her face. "All this time…I thought Rat was a /kid/. A…a boy. This kid you hung out with, but…I never saw him." She laughs again for her misunderstanding. "Right, well. Dragonkind tends to smell similar."

Thierry frowns and shakes his head. "I don't hang out with any fucking kids." Not a fan of the younger folk, it would seem. Then it strikes him - "You mean /Worm/?" That's the only person he hangs around with, with anything that could be described as frequency. "He don't smell like dragons. He smells…" A pause, during which he looks grumpily down at the table. "… good. But I'm not talking to him any more."

"That's why I was so confused!" Sienna agrees, with another laugh. "Wait…maybe that's it. Maybe I got… so who is Worm? He's…it's a /person/, right?" Then…"Why aren't you?" He smells /good/?

"Just someone." Thierry shrugs. "His dad works for mine. I grew up with him, sorta. And I'm not talking to him because he's a fucking little /traitor/ who'd rather go shag a girl that /I saved/ than be /friends/." Which is probably a total exaggeration in typical angsty teenaged style. But hey look, food's here! The guard recruit shakes Rat off his arm-perch so he can reach for his sandwich, filling his mouth with a huge bite - because he can't talk with his mouth full now, can he?

Sienna ahhs, nodding as she smiles her thanks for the food, and takes a sip of her wine, then a bite of the sandwich. Which has her cheeses in it. Win. "That's tough, when someone gets into a relationship and doesn't have much time for you anymore."

His gob-full of cheesy sandwich goodness means Thierry can't instantly retort, though he does scowl to show he's /not/ happy with what his friend's gone and done. If Reilan's even gone and done as much. He swallows, washing it down with close to a half pint of ale. Down the hatch it goes! "I let him join my boys, /and/ I stopped them from picking on him, /and/ I kept him safe if he just made a few marks for me, and just cos that little shit's got ideas in her head and wants his pretty ass for herself he thinks he can just… just get up and /fuck off/." His rant ends with his fist pummelling the table, which causes a hiss of pain and makes Rat squawk. The brown clambers up Thi's sleeve to settle around his shoulders, tail curled around his neck for stability. "He's not my friend any more. Not until he apologises."

Sienna listens though she eats and drinks a bit more while she does so, nodding along with what he says. She doesn't even flinch at the fist hitting the table, but she does glance at him for that hiss of pain. Forgot his hand was bruised, did he? "Well, you've got to do what you've got to do. If cutting him lose makes you happy, then do it. Have you told him though, that he's pissed you off after all you've done for him?"

"No. Cos I'm not talking to him." Which means logical things such as Sienna suggested are not being thought about. Thierry sulks over his sandwich, huffing and puffing in annoyance as he takes another bite. When that mouthful's gone, he lets his shoulders sink and shrugs at Sienna. "He's kinda my only friend. The boys… they don't count. And they'll be /pissed/ after I banged up Phib. So they probably count even /less/." He leans back in his chair, running his fingers through his dark hair. "I dunno what to do."

Sienna nods, "Alright then." She's not going to argue with him about it. "Well…he - Phib - did something against the law, right? You're a guard. You had to do it."

"Yeah, he was all pawsy with Veresch." Thierry holds up his hands, miming what could be like squeezing boobs. "Didn't see /that/ bit, but Worm sent Pretty for me, and when /I/ got there he was on Phib's back with a /knife/ at his throat, and Phib had Ver pinned against the wall then he was gonna try and crush Rei, too, so I just sorta…" His fist comes up in a mock-punch against the flat of his other palm, with sound effects, too! "Phib's a fucking idiot, anyway. He needed a take-down. They need to know I'm still in /charge/." Even if he was drafted into the guard.

Sienna frowns a bit. "So you did what needed to be done. Both as a guard /and/ as a gentleman. If they don't see that, your boys…well. They should see that you did the right thing. That Phib was being a fucking idiot."

"But they won't see it that way." Thierry shrugs, lifting up his pint glass to drain what's left of the murky brown ale. "Don't know if I can explain it to you properly so you'll understand it. It's a /man/ thing." Which he so clearly is (not). "And a bazaar thing." Another thing that he is, and she isn't. "/And/ a /Now/ thing." He holds up three splayed fingers. "You don't fuck over your boys. I'm supposed to be /loyal/ to them, and they'll see this as me fucking them over. Betcha Worm's gonna get it worse, though. They never liked him. Too /pretty/." He shrugs, picking up the remainder of his sandwich to squeeze it all into his mouth.

Sienna lifts a brow. "I understand. Just not sure what the answer is, same as you. Bring Worm into the guard? Leave your boys behind? Get new boys? Or quit the guard and go back to the bazaar."

Thierry shakes his head. "Can't leave the guard, or that weyrwoman of yours is gonna send me to the Western Isles. Can't get new boys, cos… the new guys /are/ the guard, I guess, and I'm… not /really/ one of them? Worm wouldn't make it as a guard. He's on his own, anyway." Thierry snorts, brushing his fingers off on his uniform trousers. "It's all fucked up, lady. And I oughta go put in a post-shift report."

Sienna sees it is, and she nods. "Sorry I can't help." That, at least, is genuine. "Maybe it'll all turn out in the end though. Not much else to hope for."

"Yeah. Maybe." Thierry nods, then stands up. "Thanks for dinner, Assistant Weyrlingmaster." He steps around his chair - even pushes it under the table! "And, er…" His cheeks colour, and he leans down to keep his voice at a level that only Sienna will hear. Rat has to shift his balance, which puts his face right up in the greenrider's. He chirrs, flicks his tongue at her, then draws back. "Thanks for… listening." Thierry's got a hesitant smile to go with that, which he shrugs away. "You're… you're alright. For… y'know." For being an Oldtimer woman dragonrider.

Sienna dips her head with a smile, taking a sip of her wine before that hand brushes curls back from her face. She glances at Rat - hi, you're not a person - and then back at Thierry. Her smile warms, and she reaches out to try and gently rest a hand on his arm. Very, very briefly. "Any time, Thierry, any time." Right. For..y'know. "Clear skies."

The touch is allowed - Thierry even has a flicker of a smile as he looks down at the hand on his arm. "Clear skies. /No-thread/ skies. Stay safe?" Then he strides off, digging his hands into his pockets and putting up that surly streetrat charade as he gets closer to the street.

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