Who

Zetali, Xanthee

What

Zetali comes into Last Call to warm up after sweeps and comes across Xanthee doing some weyrmating party prep.

When

It is noon of the seventh day of the third month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Last Call

OOC Date 04 Feb 2019 05:00

 

zetali_default.jpgxanthee_default.jpg

"Oooo. A beach party. I'll try to get Oddy to behave himself and not splash everyone."


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Last Call

From the bleak treachery of the wide ledge outside, the bar's interior is a veritable paradise. Nothing here matches: there's five shades of brown found just in the leather of the random scattered chairs, and all the tables are painted different mottled shades of earthen tones. Nothing symmetrical to be found here, no order, just a long bar along the far-edge of the weyr-converted, nestled into the nook that would normally be a private weyr's bedspace. The bottles that gleam behind that reclaimed counter of scarred and burned skybroom are rare and precious, with most of the joviality in the air coming from the tapped keg standing in the middle place of honor behind the bar. The decorations are sparse, entertainments few: dragonpoker and darts and fellow patrons provide the typical bar atmosphere, while a niche in the corner stands ready with stool and gitar-rack for the stolen Harper or musically-inclined rider. A weatherbeaten shingle hung precisely over the middle of the bar declares the house rules.


Outside is a spine-chilling abyss of empty desert air and the smooth slope of sandstone threatening to tilt its occupants out into space. It's bleak, it's scary, and it's probably a rite of passage for some young dragonriders, especially any that might have formerly been afraid of heights. Thankfully, Zetali is none of this, and seems to have no real fear of anything but two things: Thread, and professional incompetence. Speaking of professionality, she's finished her duties, at least for the moment. Freshly, in fact. The former Harperhall apprentice pushes the Last Call's door open and shoves her way in, stamping and shivering to warm herself back up. It might not be too unreasonably cold, but up high in the cold, thin air, it's pretty brisk. Sea-green eyes sweep the room as she looks to see who's here… and outside comes the happy bugling of her easily-amused big brown, who's probably figured out some new game to play with his chromatic comrades. Or he's just happy to see him. With Odskovith, it really could go either way.

Tucked in a corner table hugging one of the walls, Xanthee has a stack of hides in front of her, stylus and inkwell and she is scribbling furiously without much regard for what is going on around her. It's a rest day for whirlwind, but with a weyrmating to plan, this greenrider has little time for herself these days. She doesn't seem too harried about it though, humming softly to herself before sprinkling a little sand onto the wet ink to dry it more quickly. Taking a moment to pick up her glass of wine, she lifts her eyes from her work and looks around the bar as a bit of a break for her tired eyes. When they land on Zetali, the greenrider calls out, "Hey! You look half frozen… Sweeps?" Xanthee guesses with a raised brow as she tips the loose sand back into it's little container and moves the finished hide to one pile as she gets a fresh one off another.

"Heeey." The brownrider lifts a hand with a croak, shivering her way into the common area and over towards the table occupied by her friend. She pulls the opposite chair out and throws herself down in it, folding her arms as though to bask in the warmth of the room. "Uh huh. It's c-cold out there, even with good leathers. At least it's sunny; that helps a lot. Doesn't seem to affect Oddy too much, though. He hasn't slowed down all day… eh, we're all finished for right now, though. I think. I'll give Oddy a good scrub… but not 'til after I thaw out, first." She shakes herself and pulls herself up straight, peering with some interest at the stacks of hides, leaning from one side to the other as though to guess just how many sheafs are there. "Looks like you're up to some kind of fun." Zetali gestures to indicate the clutter, eyeing it a little dubiously. "What's that all about?"

"Yeah, dragons definitely don't feel the cold like we do," Xanthee replies as she puts her stylus aside to lean up against the inkwell. "You want me to go pour you a stiff one? That'll put a fire in your belly," the greenrider offers before looking down at the stacks of hide with a smile before reaching out to square up the 'finished' pile neatly. "Fun of the party planning kind, specifically a weyrmating party." With her hands on the table, the ring on her finger, a delicate thing with sculpted leaves inlaid with tiny perfect emerald is prominently on display. "We've finally set a date, had to make sure there wouldn't be Fall or anything, so it's going to be in the middle of next month. Actually…" Xan trails off as she riffles through the stack of invitations and plucks one out and hands it to Zetali, "This one's yours!" The hide lays out the details, a beach party and feast following a simple ceremony.

"Lucky." Zetali strips off her gloves, cramming them into a pocket. She flexes her fingers a few times to try and bring them back to life. "Heh, thanks. Appreciate it. It's cold out there, but there's been worse. That wind's wicked. I'd do it myself, but I'd probably spill it all over the floor like this." She grins, rubbing at one hand with the other. "I'll behave myself. Promise." And then, details. Details! Yes, details! Her eyes are immediately taken by the ring, gaze snapping over to it like it was magnetically attracted. "Oh, my~," she says, leaning over to peer at it. So pretty. "That's beautiful. Oh, congratulations—" This one's yours, and Zetali crosses her eyes to regard the invitation handed to her, before reaching up and taking it with stiff and clumsy fingers. After a second or two more of fumbling with it, she peers it over, squinting. "Oooo. A beach party. I'll try to get Oddy to behave himself and not splash everyone."

"Thank you," Xanthee practically beams as Zetali compliments her ring, "Malosim made it himself. I still can't believe how lucky I am to have snagged a Miner who specializes in gems." Of course that was meant in jest, no matter what Mal did, wouldn't change the greenrider's utter devotion for her beloved. With a sharp nod when Zetali accepts her offer of a drink, Xanthee pushes her chair back and makes her way over to the bar and peruses the selection. "Please do, I'm expecting quite the turnout and I've been planning for months already," Xan calls over her shoulder at the idea of her party getting called on account of over-enthusiastic brown. Finally she decides on a red hued whiskey she's familiar with, the Zingari Red which has a pleasant sweetness to it, and pours the brownrider a generous finger's worth. Heading back to the table, she places it down in front of her friend before re-taking her seat. "So how are things with you? Besides freezing your tail off in sweeps," she asks before taking another sip of her wine.

"I'm not too surprised. He's pretty handy with stuff like that, isn't he?" Zetali reaches up to pull off her cap, running still-clumsy fingers through her short hair. It's been slowly growing back in since weyrlinghood, and it looks like it's probably unkempt enough for another trim, which she clearly hasn't gotten around to doing. The brownrider shrugs. "I'll ask him to keep his distance, and do something real nice for him for the trouble. If he promises to be really careful, I might tell him he can get a little bit closer." She looks at the Zingari red, grinning a slow grin. "Now that's more like it. Thanks. Bottoms up!" she calls, cheerfully, draining the whiskey and setting it aside. "Aaah~. Yep. Things aren't bad. I've mostly been keeping my head down and focusing on drills, sweeps, and encouraging a little more maturity in Oddy. He's great, don't get me wrong. Sometimes his blind optimism is just the thing that gets me through an extra hairy Threadfall. But he's gotta focus, too. I've had to point things out to him that he should've spotted himself when he got fixed on a particular clump. Ugh, so many close calls. Threadfighting's not for the faint of heart, you know?" She sighs, lacing her fingers and resting her chin over them. "What about you, aside from the obvious? How's Liowyth? Oddy hasn't mentioned her much lately."

"If nothing else, I'm sure Liowyth will distract him is absolutely necessary, but she's almost as excited about this as we are," Xanthee replies with a soft giggle of affection for her emerald green, "Although I could just be rubbing off on her I suppose." A simple shrug of her shoulders and the subject is dimissed and she settles to listen to Zetali's news, frowning a little bit when she mentions the trouble she has with her brown on occasion. "Yikes, that is scary. I just have to keep reminding Liowyth to stay in her lane and that it's not her job to protect everyone else." When Zetali mentions Threadfighting not being for the faint of heart, Xanthee's expression sobers considerably, one particular painful memory from her childhood popping to mind prompted by that statement, "No it's not." She's not sure of the Harper-turned rider, but this was all Xan ever wanted even though she'd experienced the harsh reality herself. Shaking herself out of it, she puts a smile back on her lips to Zetali's inquiry, "We're doing great! Liowyth is keeping me guessing on when she's going to rise next, but she's about due so…Just as long as she doesn't go up in the middle of the party, I'm mostly ok with it."

"Yeah, he shouldn't be too difficult to distract. He has a hard time keeping more than three things in his head at a time, so if she has something bright and colourful and shiny to dangle in front of him, he ought to be occupied for a little while." Zetali grins. "Oddy seems to get along with her best out of his clutchmates, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem." She tips her head in what isn't quite a shrug at Xanthee's frown. "If I hit him on the head enough eventually he pays attention. I've had a few close shaves, but I guess everybody probably has. That's what I tell him. 'Stay in your lane!'" She shakes her head, missing Xanthee's moment of melancholy, although that might be for the best. The inquiry brings a grin. "Good. Aaah, hopefully I can keep Oddy grounded for that. It's kind of weird and awkward to have him go up after Liowith, but maybe that's just my Holder background talking. I have to force Oddy from paying attention to the greens once in a while… and the poetry. Oh, Faranth, the poetry," she groans, dropping her head onto her folded arms over the table.

"Well as long as the shiny isn't Liowyth, I'm sure she can figure soemthing else out," Xanthee replies with another soft smile for Zetali and her brown. Finishing up her glass of wine, she indicates to her friend that she is still listening as she goes for a refill at the bar. When she comes back, it's with a chuckle when Zetali mentions Odskovith's bad poetry as she takes her seat again. "That bad huh? And is it because I'm a girl? Cause you know you'll be holding him back from a lot of flights if you keeping him from every green ridden by a woman. And to be honest," Xanthee leans forward, bracing her forearms against the table as she lowers her voice. "I didn't mind it actually, it's different from being with a guy, but not in a bad way. Anyway, I don't remember much of what happened anyway, just that I wasn't completely satisfied afterwards, but Mal definitely didn't complain about that…" a brazen wink caps off that little bit of tmi as Xan sits back to take up sipping her drink again.

"Probably. She seems pretty creative, especially when it comes to keeping amused." Zetali flexes her fingers again, turning one hand over and examining the dry skin. Looks like she isn't the only one that might benefit from some dragon hide oil. The look she turns Xanthee at mention of the poetry is nothing short of crestfallen resignation. "I might have been a Harper, but I was no poet. I'm still pretty sure I can write better poetry than that. Blindfolded. Both arms tied behind my back. Asleep. Drunk. Whatever." At the last syllable, she gives a dismissive flick of a hand. She's about to say something else when her friend leans in conspirational-like. And then Zetali's face is scarlet forever. Or at least for the next five minutes straight. "O-oh, no, nothing like that. Well, not entirely. I mean. Uh." Oh dear. She's about to get a grip on herself when the thought of Oddy chasing after Liowyth, and more specifically what that would do to the dragons' lifemates, rudely interjects itself into her mind. "…urgh," she offers, helpfully. "It's not that I keep him from the women. I just don't want him chasing after every tail he sees. It's bad form and he's too tired to do any Threadfighting then. And you should see that big lug when he loses. You'd think he'd broke both his wings or something. What, no, it's not because you're a girl. It's because you're my friend. My friend who's about to get weyrmated!" Zetali adds, whapping the surface of the table with an open palm for hapless emphasis. "That's just… just… awkward."

Xanthee was busy laughing at Zetali's explanantion of just how bad the poetry was when she's soon smirking for another reason completely, mainly the way Zetali has turned into a redfruit. She's patient though as her friend tries to explain it, one brow hiking up in amused curiosity as she leans back and folds her arms over her chest. She doesn't say anything though, letting the brownrider get out all she wants to say before she chuckles softly with a shake of her head. "Firstly, it's true, you can't let him chance all the time, that just means you are a responsible rider." then she sighs heavily and tilts her head to one side with another smile, "I'd much prefer waking up next to a friend than a stranger you know. And Malosim knows that this isn't me, it's Liowyth, and her needs. He's completely fine with it. But you do what you are comfortable with Zetali, that's the really important thing." And since that thump disrupted some of her hides, Xan works to tidy them up before a rumble in her stomach brings an embaressed laugh from her. "I think that's my body's way of saying it's lunch time." Reaching for her satchel, she begins packing up and sends a silent call to Liowyth.

"Yeah, maybe so," the brownrider finally manages. She glares at her friend, but there's no animosity in her regard at all, because she still looks like a redfruit. Her own head tilts to one side to mirror the gesture Xanthee makes. Well, it seems to be a genuinely acceptable result to the greenrider. Who is she to argue? Zetali manages a chagrined smirk of her own. "Yeah? You all sure about that? Well, if that's the case… hmm. Let's make a wager. Bet you Oddy can catch Liowyth next time. This is gonna happen anyway… might as well get some entertainment out of the whole thing if you're that comfortable with it." She pushes herself up from the table, inclining her head to Xanthee. "Thanks for the drink. I think that'll get me back down to the lake so I can give Oddy a scrub and go hide someplace warm for a while. Hey, take care, will you? And tell Malosim I said hi. And Liowyth, too. Except Oddy probably did that already." She turns to head on, lifting a hand without looking back, although Xanthee can probably hear the grin in her voice. "Be seeing you, Xan. Don't work too hard, or I'll get Oddy to fret at Liowyth." With that, if Xanthee doesn't stop her, she'll make her way back out to the Last Call's hair-raising ledge.

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