Divale, R'xim


… never change.



It is midmorning of the fourth day of the fifth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 28 Feb 2018 05:00




Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.

A soft spring morning has a tendency to lure folks from their homes out into the sunlight for some good ol' vitamin D. R'xim is one of those people enjoying the midmorning candlemark with the Pernese equivalent of a newspaper — it's probably called The Harper Gazette or something like that. Dressed in dark klah colored leathers, the former wingleader also sports an off-white short sleeved shirt as he stands with a shoulder leaned against a vendor's booth. One ankle is crossed over the other in his relaxed stance and he's currently reading some article in the so-called gazette at the moment. "Huh." he says to himself, thumbing to the next page. "That's fucking interesting." Genuine, that. Whatever he read is really intriguing, apparently.

The sun will certainly lure some outside, while chasing another breed of folk back inside as the shadows recede and the Bazaar begins to teem with the usual crowds. Not that trouble still won’t slither its way in, but so far it’s a ‘quiet’ morning. Depending on who you ask, too, a certain brownrider’s appearance could be a form of trouble too. Divale ghosts herself quietly to where R’xim is currently leaning and while she has zero interest in what he’s reading, it’s obvious that what has drawn her here is the bronzerider himself. It’s not like she’s disturbed his more “peaceful” moments before! “But is it true or fallacy?” she chimes in dryly, as though she’d been there from the start and not just riding the last statement to be overheard.

R'xim lowers the paper enough so that he can lift blue eyes to regard Divale with a brief glance, then it's back to the text. "Says here that the crime rate in Telgar has experienced a 3% drop over the last six months. Can you believe that shit? Telgar." A snort follows and he lowers the paper, folds it, and tucks it underneath his arm so his free hand can can salute the wingsecond. Once the formality is out of the way, he reaches over to the basket of fruit resting on the vendor's table and collects a redfruit for himself. As he takes a crisp bite, he nods to Khamar and the owner nods back — must be they have an agreement, or the man owes Rix a few favors. "Sounds like a bunch of propaganda to me."

“Can’t say I’ve an opinion on Telgar, as I’ve never been and wouldn’t know the difference.” Divale’s reply is as predictably cool as always, as is the stoic neutrality of her expression. The salute is returned, though leaves the sense that if she could, she’d sigh. Formality is understood but she has always found some of the Weyr’s near-rituals to be odd. “There is always propaganda,” she muses with her own strange half-smirk as she moves to stand in the shadowed side of the booth. “If there’s to be any surprise, is that the gossip has turned beyond Igen.” Maybe that’s a good thing? Her gaze settles briefly on the redfruit and the exchange, but as always she makes no move to touch, gaze soon flicking back to R’xim. Nothing is said, but it’s obvious there are unspoken questions lurking.

"Fuck Telgar, they don't know shit about keeping order on their streets." R'xim says before taking another bite of the redfruit in hand. It's not that he's oblivious to the fact that Divale has questions for him, it's more like he's moved on and is moving ahead with his life. The direction he's currently taking is relatively new territory for him and while it might not sit well with some folks around the Bazaar, it makes him feel good. There is an obvious air of relaxation and relief around the bronzerider as he hasn't felt the nag of hidework, management, or pressing responsibility in months — that and he's had some of the best sleep in his life over the last few sevendays. It helps his mood out tremendously. "Gossip always makes its way to Igen. Like vtols to honey."

Rare is the day Divale laughs and today won’t be one of them! His swearing does, however, bring a low chuckle and perhaps a small sidelong look of re-evaluation in the bronzerider. Whether she’s noting change or merely dealing with the oddity of him no longer above her in rank… she is not as prickly as she normally would be. “I’d love to see you say that to their Guard Captain’s face,” she remarks in heavy sarcasm and this time she does smirk. She is not one to merely gossip about… gossip, however. With a non-pulsed air, she’ll pretend to inspect a finger nail or two before tossing out a single word without so much as glancing up: “Arroyo?”

R'xim smirks as he keeps his gaze out over the bustling crowd of the Bazaar, palming the redfruit as he does. "You know I would. He's such a pussy, you'll see." No doubt Divale might attend some training at Telgar someday and encounter Gerard, Telgar's captain of the guards. For now, Rix takes another bite of redfruit as the nonchalant question is posed, and all he offers is an equally ambivalent, "Aye." Spoken like a seacrafter, that. Prior to Impression, he was a seacrafter on his way to becoming a Journeyman and had a thick accent from Tillek — a rare showing of his roots in that response. "Arroyo."

“I’ll give him your regards, then.” Divale could be very serious on that, if R’xim’s claim is true and Gerard is a weak man; she wouldn’t pass up opportunity to toy with one like that. She behaves herself in Igen territory but elsewhere, if she can get away with it? Game on. His answer to her query, as it were, doesn’t bring an ounce of surprise. Still, one brow quirks and she’ll regard him sidelong for several moments of shadowed silence before speaking again. “Perhaps it will suit you.” Her cryptic remark could mean anything — be it compliment or well-wish (that’d be the day) or an insult.

"Perhaps." R'xim knows when he's potentially being baited and he's not in the right frame of mind to bite. So, he'll just pretend like Divale meant it as a well-wish and take it from there. "Change is good." Now what he means by that is also cryptic — whether he meant the change in Parhelion leadership, or his lack of responsibility at the moment, or his semi retirement is anyone's guess. Seems like this is the game they're going to play for the moment. The last bite of redfruit is taken and tosses the core into a nearby trash barrel before wiping his fingers on his leathers. He pushes away from his lean against the vendor's booth and reaches for the folded paper tucked underneath his arm like he's going to resume reading the news from Telgar.

Silence falls again as Divale mulls over that cryptic toss back, though her expression betrays little of what she may think in the end. “Perhaps,” she quips back, not wholly mocking but close to judge by the crooked smirk that follows. Most would take the hint and go about their day, but not her. Once opportunity presents itself, she will strike out with her hand in an attempt to snag that folded paper. Whether or not she’s successful, she’ll make the same dry comment. “If all they’re passing is news of Telgar and other regions, I am surprised this place isn’t abuzz with Kurkar’s situation. Almost as if it’s become taboo overnight to even breathe of the topic…”

No, Divale. You'll have to be a little quicker than that~ Her movement has R'xim's reflexes jerking the paper further away from the brownrider and perhaps a little a higher so she can't easily get to it. "Didn't I teach you not to fuck around when you're on duty in the Bazaar?" He casts his gaze over the crowds again very briefly before sweeping the paper in the general direction of where the riff raff like to hang out. "If you're so concerned about Kurkar, go find someone who actually gives a shit and bitch to them about it instead." Cleeeaarly the matter isn't something Rix is obligated to deal with anymore — thank Faranth. Semi retirement is awesome. "I'm busy." Flicking his wrists to smooth out the paper, he opens it and skims the page to find that article about the crime rate again just as Khamar snickers somewhere inside the booth.

“I am not on duty,” While he’ll earn a narrowed stare for raising the paper out of reach, Divale doesn’t rise to that bait and merely lets him ‘win’ that round. She’ll give him a long, hard look for the rest but as before, her expression doesn’t shift, save for the small movement of her dark coloured eyes. “You’ve changed.” she states coldly, as if not wholly approving (and yet approving) of it.

Huh. R'xim lifts his gaze from the paper to Divale once again as if assessing her statement about not being on duty at the moment. It's the usual time of day he used to assign her to patrol the Bazaar and… this is very obviously not the case right now. He's reminded that he shouldn't be making any assumptions about her schedule anymore since he has nothing to do with Parhelion. Rix clears his throat a little and lifts his shoulders into a shrug like he can't help what she thinks of him. "Aye." There's that same response to her observation about how much he's changed, and he decides to change locations since he can sense some sort of snide or disapproving remark from Divale bubbling to the surface. "Like I said, change is good." The paper is folded once again and tucked underneath an arm as he dismisses himself. "Just remembered that I have to meet someone. Carry on." And since Divale isn't on duty, he won't salute. Instead, he'll make his way into the crowd to get to… wherever he needs to be.

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