Divale, H'rik


Divale and H'rik watch a Bazaar argument, in the aftermath of some storm "damage".


It is midmorning of the first day of the tenth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 17 Apr 2018 23:00


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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.

Midmorning finds the Bazaar in a semi state of chaos and all from an overnight storm. High winds, little rain but that didn't stop the sand from coming in! Few got any sleep last night, thanks to the relentlessness of nature. Come dawn, damage is being surveyed but is minimal. There's the usual sand to be swept and cleared away, some debris and minor damages to some less fortunate stalls or business fronts. And in one particular case, a rather heated squabble between two merchants as to who's property is really theirs, though the centre of it all is over particular livestock that have now since mingled due to their paddock fences crumbling. Divale is standing a bit away from all the arguing, watching with dispassionate (if not bored) gaze where she's leaning up against a perfectly sound stack of crates. Every once in awhile, the Parhelion Wingsecond takes a bite out of a redfruit held in one hand; who needs popcorn?

Rumour of the storm's effects on the bazaar has reached H'rik - so much seems to reach him nowadays, whether he wants it to or not. After early morning drills, he's washed and changed out of his riding gear and into something more loose and casual, feeling much cooler and better for it. Down to the bazaar then, to see what's going on, exactly, and see if he needs to stick his nose in anywhere. His knot is on his shoulder, but he's trying his best to blend in with the crowds where possible. So it is that he emerges from a gaggle of women who are watching the argument as they pass by. Conveniently, H'rik has popped out near Divale, and he stands at the other side of the stack of crates, watching the merchants mutely, while flicking sideways looks at Divale to see if she's noticed his presence.

H'rik's arrival has not gone unnoticed, but he will be standing there for awhile yet before Divale even acknowledges him. Bordering on rude, but it's also an ingrained habit of hers. Another crisp bite of redfruit and she'll politely clear her mouth before speaking. "Come for the midmorning entertainment, sir?" she muses dryly, fitting in a respectful nod (and salute) in there. "Don't think either of us will need to be stepping in. May as well make yourself comfortable, if you're not needed elsewhere this moment?" She gestures to the very crates she's leaning on. Meanwhile, the two merchants are still going at it heatedly, though they've not resorted yet to hurling insults (or fists). Both are blissfully unaware that they're attracting attention from all sorts.

H'rik is patient enough to wait, still silent. Anyway, there's entertainment to be had, and the silence does let him listen to what the matter of the argument is, exactly. When Divale speaks, he gives another sideways look, mouth curling in a slightly smile. "I'm at leisure…for now, anyway." His light eyes are on the two men, amusement clear on his face as he's unable to get rid of that slight smile. "This is because of the storm?" He's noticed the damaged paddock, but…H'rik knows what the bazaar can be like, and who's to say someone didn't take advantage of the storm excuse to do some manual damage?

It would appear that H'rik and Divale have enough innate knowledge of the Bazaar to come to the same conclusion! There is a dark, vague smirk that curves her mouth upwards. "That's one part of the argument," she notes, while her gaze returns to the merchants across from them. While the gentle winds garble most of the conversation, the brownrider will fill him on what he's missed. "One is claiming that the other is trying to claim some of his herd as his own. Of course these are new additions, so branding has yet to be done — or so that is said." She pauses to enjoy a little more of her snack, before carrying on in her driest of tones. "They've managed to sort out most, save for their arguing over some 'near all white calves'. One is suspecting tampering with the fencing, the other is countering with the accusation that they're trying to sabotage them, as those calves are part of a dowry. Supposedly." Divale's shoulders lift in the barest of shrugs. "I'm merely observing." Not while on duty, of course.

H'rik lets Divale fill him in, watching the men calmly. There's a slight shake of his head as the supposed - supposed - background to the argument becomes clearer. Supposedly. "What a series of coincidences," the Weyrleader will reply, dry amusement in his words as he keeps his gaze on the men. How far is he going to let them go? To actual physical fighting? It's amusing enough for now, with simple debating, but…how long will that last? "I didn't know the colour of calves was so important," he adds, flicking an amused look at Divale.

Ahh! There's the fleeting grin from Divale, as H'rik brings up coincidences and she will answer only in silence first as she finishes the last of her redfruit. As always, the core is devoured and the seeds carefully removed and pocketed. It's done so swiftly and naturally that it may not be noted but even if it were? It's best not to ask. "Mhm. Quite the coincidence, isn't it?" she muses in turn, head tilting to the side a bit as she keeps her focus largely on the scene between the two other men. "I'm wagering the one with the accusations to tampering is in the right. Something about his argument has me thinking he is not lying." She peers sidelong and up at the bronzerider. "Neither did I, but apparently certain traits are coveted. I would think you'd want a sound animal and damn the color of it."

Interesting apple technique…but H'rik knows well enough not to question it! Seems like there must be a reason behind it, given how easily Divale sorts everything out. "Mmhmm," he makes a noise of agreement for Divale's words; then he's looking at each man in turn, eyes going left, right, trying to work out hiw own thoughts based on what he's witnessed of the debate. "Which one?" He asks - he hasn't heard enough from the two to work out which is which. Then he meets Divale's look with a subtle shift of his eyes, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "Who knows with these people, sometimes…." Merchants? Animal owners? Bazaar people in general? Whatever H'rik meant by that quiet comment is unclear.

There's generally a reason behind most of the things Divale does! It'd not be wrong to assume it! Only this time, it doesn't appear to have any sinister notes to it; just bizarre and unusual. "That one," she gestures subtly to the taller, willowy looking man, who's posture is telling for the tension and confrontation, but his voice is lacking in overdramatic tones. Something about his expression, compared to his much more flustered opponent, speaks of honesty to the brownrider. "Sometimes?" Divale prompts H'rik with a curious lift a brow. Do tell? Just then things are getting interesting again, as the flustered, red faced portly merchant starts to get agitated and encroaches on the quieter man's personal space. Let the gesturing begin! Divale's frowns, midway through disgust, disappointment and annoyance. She was really hoping it would resolve without having to haul the Guards in! Though she doesn't make the call yet. "… honestly it's all ridiculous." she mutters under her breath.

At Divale's gesture, H'rik will be equally careful as he watches the man who seems much less flustered. Whatever he was going to say to Divale stops short at the step of opening his mouth: the men are getting a bit too close now, and fingers are being pointed, hands flung around. H'rik's planned words turn to a sigh. "Mmhmm," comes his agreement with the ridiculousness of the situation. Then, still looking at the men, he says, "Weyrleader stepping in now: good idea, or very bad idea?" He keeps his voice quiet and level, the slightest hint of uncertainty on his face; he really does want the Parhelion 'second's thoughts, here.

"Bad idea," Divale's answer is almost immediate, while she levels H'rik with a steady look. "Bazaar really isn't our territory to meddle in. If they were doing this inside the Weyr, by all means…" She sweeps out a hand. Have at it! That very hand then lifts in a warding gesture before falling back to her side. "Parhelion gets away with 'meddling' but even then it's largely the Guards who do all the work. If they get any rowdier, I'll alert the Guard." Grimacing, she shifts to stand, rolling one shoulder as if to ease some stiffness from it. "Frustrating, at times." she quietly mutters. "All these… nuances to the various echelons of rank and status. That one can't even intervene," Another subtle nod to the two merchants. "Without risking overstepping. Sometimes," She smiles vaguely here, as if sharing a little secret. "I wonder if life wouldn't be simpler if I'd not become a rider… or would I simply be observing regardless?"

H'rik doesn't seem upset with Divale's immediate response. But, she is Parhelion, and H'rik isn't fool enough to go and ignore the people who know these things, just because he has a bigger knot than someone else. he gives a nod of acceptance, body relaxing visibly as he leans against the crates. May as well enjoy the show, right? "Heh." He finds humour in what Divale says, especially that last comment. He'll look across more directly now, rather than a subtle sidelong look. "Perhaps. Or you'd just find yourself on an equally complex path." There's something cryptic about his tone, but his gaze returns to the men before he offers up anything else on that matter.

Divale tilts her head again but in a thoughtful manner this time after H'rik imparts his own cryptic comment on the matter at hand. "Perhaps." Comes her sole reply and her gaze leaves him in favour of those merchants. Their argument is ongoing but futile and has finally drawn the attention to allies and potential family on either side, who then join in, albeit briefly. With neutral parties involved, it would appear that intervention is not necessary at all. "See?" Divale's tone has picked up that bored edge to it. "Managed to resolve itself…" She smirks. "More or less." It could be that SHE is the one disappointed by lack of actual physical altercations between the two men! "Though perhaps they're only going inside now to resume in private, where the true throttling will begin?" Dry, dry is her commentary but she'll glance aside to H'rik, now that her first source of entertainment is coming to an end.

H'rik's interest is piqued when more peopel join in - but, fortunately, the argument is ended rather than escalated. Probably for the best - he didn't fancy seeing someone get their teeth knocked out. There's places people can go for that, and have a drink while they watch. "So long as it's not a public spectacle here…I don't much mind," he notes to Divale, with a little grin for her. "I suppose I shoudl go see if the storm has causes any other…interesting effects." With a quick touch of his fingers to his temple, he bids Divale farewell and steps away into the bustle, letting the crowd absorb him and carry him away elsewhere.

"I don't think you'll be disappointed," Divale muses. Storms can bring interesting developments, beyond the obvious! "Clear skies, Weyrleader." She dips her head in farewell to H'rik, a shadow of a mischievous smirk crossing her features to her formal use of title. Likewise, she will take her own leave and in the opposite direction to the path the bronzerider takes. Whatever her business may be, it is taking her elsewhere for now.

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