Who

H'rik, Va'os

What

Va'os comes to visit H'rik at Southern and apologise for F'kan's actions. Of course, drinks are also involved.

When

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

Where

Last Call

OOC Date 21 Jan 2018 00:00

 

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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.


The change from Southern's insanely humid summer to Igen's colder winter was likely welcome relief ? at first. Not that Va'os has to linger too long outside. Once Tsiroth has arrived from Between and announced himself (with proper titles, of course), the bronze is angling towards one specific ledge. Word had no doubt been sent ahead, as is proper protocol (or just plain manners, really) and H'rik will know of their presence here on this afternoon. Just to be safe, Tsiroth will ping Wendryth with a rolling cord of music. There here! And waiting. No rush~ Dismounting, Va'os will leave his bronze to settle elsewhere while he steps inside the rumoured establishment he'd heard about in passing sometime before. "Oh… now why don't we have something like this?" he crows in delight, likely spooking some of the already present Wingriders there. Without shame, he merely grins there way and gives a jaunty salute. They can stay or quietly escape, it matters not to him. He'll just stride right up to the bar and order himself something local to drink while he passes the time.

Tsiroth will receive a warm (and loud) welcome from Wendryth, and it's at roughly the same time that the Southerners arrive that Wendryth wings his way up to the broad ledge of the LAst Call, where H'rik hops down and pulls off his helmet as he steps in to the place. Right behind Va'os too, and in time to hear the other Weyrleader's comment. Grinning, H'rik notes, "It's a hidden gem, isn't it?" as he heads over to the bar to join his fellow. Now the riders at the tables REALLY have something to stare at. A few are at least pretending not to look. Wendryth has vacated the ledge - no need to scare off any potential patrons. He'll go settle himself at the starstones, a fine vantage point to watch the Weyrbowl.

"You're right about that! Smart idea, too. Not that I'm against mingling with everyone but sometimes it's nice to escape among your own…" Va'os will just toss that out there, nonchalant like. If he offends someone, well… Oops? The Weyrleader can't be perfect all the time! He grins towards H'rik, "Southern's greetings and all ? I guess we don't have to be so strictly formal here?" Please say yes. "How have things been in your neck of the world? Still holding up?" Look how they act all friendly like… friends! It's a sight to see, that's for sure (and bound to get muttered about).

Such is the life of a rider. "It has its perks," H'rik will remark, perhaps a little softer in voice - there's going to be enough rumours already, no doubt, without his adding to them. Leaning on the bar, he looks sidelong at Va'os. "And Igen's to you. No…fewer prying eyes here." What happens in the Last Call stays in the Last Call? Maybe? Hopefully? "oh, you know. Glowing blue stuff. Fights in the bazaar. All that fun stuff." he's totally lighthearted about it all, and even finishes off by asking: "what's your poison?" Since they do need to get some drinks, being at a bar and all.

It really should be up there on that shingle with the rules! If it isn't already. Va'os feels comfortable enough to at least relax in his seat and casually lean on the bar as H'rik does. "Blue… glowing stuff? Not in your water, I hope? We had this red stuff… Awful. Couldn't touch it. Killed much of our fish." Sounds like a buzz kill, doesn't it? "Bazaar's known for that, isn't it?" He's slowly learning more about Igen. Slowly but surely! He knows about the Pit and Rosies (≧︿≦). The subtle politics of the families? Not so much. "Was gonna try a local whiskey here! Unless you suggest something else?" he muses with a grin, before sobering. He DID have a reason to come here, aside from drinking. "Ah, and speaking of fighting…" Uh oh. "Heard one of Southern's riders caused trouble among one of the Trader families here? The uh…" Oh boy. He'll frown, snapping his fingers a bit while his memory is scoured. Name, name… name! "Zingari! Sorry." He's got a lot on his mind, okay?

"Not in the water…not yet, anyway." Don't give anyone any ideas please, Va'os. H'rik pulls a face for the red stuff situation. "Sorry to hear it." Ah yes, the Bazaar. "Well," there's a telling pause that H'rik is choosing his words carefully. "it's got a reputation." yes, that'll do. As to drinks - a squat bottle half filled with something dark is procured from the shelves. "Doesn't get much more local than this - only Igen produces this stuff." Two small glasses are quickly filled with the good stuff, and one is slid over to Va'os. They probably need the drinks before getting to the reason for Va'os's visit. "Yeah. The Zingari." He confirms that as he relaxes into his chair. No need to make this more formal than it needs to be. "F'kan, if I remember right? His brown chased Rajakhelath." There H'rik will pause, sipping his whiskey - good strong stuff - to let Va'os say anything he wants to say.

Too late! Someone's going to make sparkly blue elixirs now… just you wait, H'rik! "It's fixed itself now. Might be awhile until the fish return but… we'll make due. Wasn't sure if the red stuff was the worst or the bugs." Va'os grimaces then and he's really doing a piss poor job of selling Southern as a place to visit at this rate! Maybe that's why he's been coming north more of late? "With a name like 'Bazaar', that tends to go hand in hand," he jokes with a light scoff. His gaze settles on the drink being poured with eager anticipation. Yes, this is what he was talking about! Grinning, he'll go as far as to briefly clasp H'rik's shoulder. "I knew I liked you from the start!" They're gonna be BFFs at this rate! … well, in Va'os' books anyhow. Picking up his drink, he'll tip it slightly in thanks to the Igen Weyrleader before knocking some of it back. "Nice!" he compliments, while studying the dark liquid with an appreciative look. He IS listening however and will add to the more sobering conversation. "Yeah, that'd be the idiots name! We've had… ah… some ongoing issues but thought he'd learned his lesson. Proved us all wrong. So you can say I'm kind of here to apologize, while also assure you he's being punished appropriately." Details not forthcoming. "Probably should be going to the Zingari too but not sure how that'd… work." Tricky politics are tricky here.

Yeah, H'rik isn't booking a holiday there any time soon. "Sounds…fun." But to better things! Like drink! And friendship! H'rik smiles when his shoulder is clasped. That smile broadens when the drink is met with approval, and he downs some more of his. There's more in the bottle, and he's the Weyrleader so, he gets some perks, right? Like refilling his glass when it's empty…like it will be all too soon, at this rate. "There's always one," H'rik says, with an edge of symapthy. He's not going to probe for details of the punishment, but given that Va'os has come all the way out here to apologise? He trusts that action is being taken. "I can handle the Zingari, if you want. I think they'd just be glad to hear he's in the doghouse." There's a sober smile now, as H'rik nurses the rest of his glass.

"Just one? It feels like I've at least half a dozen," Va'os mutters just before enjoying more of that drink. Perks of being a Weyrleader, indeed! He'll set his empty glass down with only a subtle hint towards a refill. H'rik doesn't have to worry about F'kan (hopefully)! While Va'os didn't hand out the punishment, those who did, did so beautifully. "Would you mind? Little less awkward if I just go sauntering in there and kind of, I dunno… add salt to the wound. Not sure what I could do anyhow. Not my territory. And the one who should be doing the apologizing can't be here." His smile is a tense one and it implies much! Some serious shit came down on F'kan!

He's falling behind! H'rik finishes the rest of his drink and makes good on refilling both glasses. The Last Call can get more of this stuff if it runs out, right? "Not at all. I, uh…well, I know a bit about the Zingari, so hopefully I make sure all's well. As best I can, anyway." Hopefully they're not baying for F'kan's blood, or something. Now, F'kan NOT being able to be there? That is interesting, and H'rik raises an eyebrow above the rim of his glass. Once he's put it down and swallowed, he will add an, "oh?" to that expression, now wanting to probe for a bit more info.

If they're going to drink that much, Va'os is going to need to crash one of their guest weyrs and then it'll get all the more awkward, right? Good thing he can handle his alcohol decently. "Right! So you have the advantage over me," he points out cheerfully. The second glass is lifted and toasted this time in a 'good luck' manner. Another sip and then a bit of a heavy exhale. "He can't leave Southern. Not on his own power, anyhow." That sufficient enough? Va'os' grim expression should give the rest.

It'd only be awkward if he crashed in H'rik's weyr, just saying. "You could say that," H'rik says about the advantage thing, but he doesn't look or sound too enthralled about facing the Zingari after the unfortunate events. His glass will lift, too, half for the toast, half to drink some more. "Ah. And your Weyrwomen are coping okay? I assume they're, uh, assisting with enforcing that." He's not oblivious to the fact that Southern has but two golds, one older, one barely out of Weyrlinghood.

Never say never, H'rik. This is Va'os! And if he's going to start a political downfall, he may as well go for it all. He doesn't envy him having to speak to the Zingari leaders either! Content to nurse his second drink, he'll nod to confirm most of that next question. "They've got it under control. Mayte is experienced and Amani is young, but capable." Never mind both were former Igenites in some form so, there is that too! "No bad blood between the Weyrs, then?" He's just going to toss that out right and quick. "I mean, I don't want to be a cocky bastard and assume all is fine since Tsiroth wasn't immediately chased off…"

H'rik looks glad that Southern's golds are all good, but Va'os's next comment catches him off guard, as much for how quick it comes as what the man's asking. He blinks a couple of times, drink held in a still hand, and then smiles a little. "Trust me, Tsiroth would have known if Wendryth wasn't going to let him finish." Does the bronze's duty extend to defending the honour of Zingari women? Or has H'rik had words with him about how it's not Tsiroth's fault? Either way, H'rik lifts his glass to Va'os. "No harm done. Not like you've let him get away with it - quite the opposite, by the sounds of it." Is H'rik's grin just a little naughty there?

"Definitely the opposite!" Va'os is quick to assure H'rik again that appropriate measures have been taken. As for the rest, he merely grins that lopsided grin of his. Maybe his little surprise was intentional? "On the bright side of things," All other matters aside. "Igen will be fortunate enough to have another clutch soon." The desert Weyr has certainly proved to be fertile in… some senses of the word. And it's something that even Va'os can raise his glass to again in toast. "Here's to continued good fortune and a healthy clutch?"

H'rik can't help but grin back; something about Va'os's attitude is infectious. "That we will. Here's hoping that Southern gets one soon, too." He'll lift his glass, and this time will move it far enough to clink against Va'os's. "And to Southern's continued strength! And a healthy clutch from whichever of your golds decides she wants to go up first!" He's probably hoping, internally, that he's not causing any offence with the sincere toast, the lighthearted ending sprinkled onto it. Certainly, H'rik's tone is warm, happy to be in the company of a fellow first-time Weyrleader.

"To the strength and future of both our Weyrs!" Va'os finishes just as their glasses clink together and he knocks back a good portion of the dark liquid. There's a slight grimace for the kickback from the alcohol and then he's back to grinning. "Now that that's all out of the way… What's there for respectable entertainment around here? Or you just up for shooting the breeze for however long?" Hey, he's got to ask! "What's this blue stuff you mentioned before? Any I can see?" If it's not toxic like the red stuff was, he's all curiosity, man!

With the toasts done, and the Weyrs' brotherhood affirmed…on to other matters. Like, glowing blue stuff. He's had a few drinks; the Last Call is safe enough that H'rik feels comfortable discussing it. Which he will, at some length. The various attempted applications that have happened about the Weyr will no doubt come up, with a few laughs from H'rik at the more unfortunate ones. And…something about glowing geese? He's happy to sit, drink, and shoot the breeze!

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