State of the Glass

Wandering Wherry Tavern
It is often whispered, in the crowds that converge here, that a certain Weyrleader was asked what he wanted in the remodeling of the pub that was not so long ago given a refreshing. He muttered back over the rim of his ever-present mug, "I don't care what you do with the place, just so long as there is plenty of ale." With that in mind, cask after cask of ale lines the walls of the tavern, the remodeler's idea of a jest. As they age, the casks bring a real rustic atmosphere to the pub, along with the deeply wooden flavor that seems to be the theme throughout.
The lighting is dim, as it should be in all good pubs, and the tables and chairs are plentiful. A long mahogany bar, intricately carved with runner beasts, stands vigilant duty at the head of the bar, lined with stools for those patrons that seek the bartender's company. Behind it are drinks for those not inclined toward ale, as well as a door leading to the small kitchen where snacks are made and a back room that probably holds yet more ale.

Everybody has to spend some time at work eventually and this night just so happens to be one of those evenings for Rhodelia. For a day of a clutching, the conversation in the tavern is strangely muted. Where normally folks would just be drinking in the name of celebration, instead folks are nursing pints and muttering about 'omens' and 'bad luck'. And well, since all the current patrons seem to be content with their current beverages, that leaves the bartender with nothing at the moment to do except for idly scrubbing at the bartop with a rag. Out, out dang spot.

Cielo occasionally forgets that he is even finally allowed in here now! If that were a thing. Either way, he's not a common face and wandering here from the Annex is almost a matter of curiosity more than it is seeking company or drink. The strangeness of the mood strikes him further, his gaze and ears flickering around the room even as he pilots himself onto the bar. He nearly plants his elbow onto that self-same spot, but catches himself and puts his arms up. "Ah! Sorry. Evening." He tries for a smile, searching Rhodelia in turn.

At some point, Rhodelia totally fell into the monotonous trap that scrubbing can be and zoned out completely, just wiping round and round until suddenly, there's an elbow where her scrubbing should be. She blinks and then flicks the rag behind her back. "Uh, sorry about that. Did you want to make an order?" She'll ask the obvious question because he could totally just be in here for the fine seats they have instead of the booze everybody else seems to be after.

"My fault, really." There's a long beat as he smiles. Yes! This is a place where people order things. And drinks. And drink lots of ale. "Sure. Just ale. I've had my head down so long that I seem to have… missed something." He tilts his head a little. Discretion, though, for it does not seem like people want to do more than mutter of it. "Should I be worried?"

"Missed something?" Rhody leans up on the bar and peers over into the tavern as if searching, but then she shrugs. "I don't see anything out of place. Have you checked your pockets? Or maybe… did anybody bump into you on your way over?" She's cheerful enough as she rattles off all the frequent advice for missing objects while pouring the ale. "And worried would depend on how important what you're missing is?"

"I worry overmuch. And am missing some combination of knowing and sense, depending on who you ask." Cielo watches the pour with some interest. Then he does check his pockets, silently counting each of his belongings before finally sighing with relief. "Too much reading, not enough… all this." He opens his arms in a gesture. "Need to catch up on the Weyr, top to bottom."

Rhodelia tilts her head as she slides the now filled glass over and as he gestures to the rest of the room at large, finally it dawns on her. "Ahhhhh. Yeah." There's a bit of a wince now. "Depending on who you want to listen to, there might be renegades behind every bush just waiting to attack any passer by. Or that we're all doomed for any other number of reasons. But folks will just take one bad thing and run with it, bunch of nattering old aunties that they all are." Despite they're mostly men in the bar tonight. She picks the rag up again and flourishes it in a dismissive wave to the whole naysayers in general.

Cielo gives a warm chuckle. "Sounds a lot like my nan," he muses, taking the drink in his left hand. "Thank you. Mmm. Not the sort of muttering I would go and shove my nose in then. It's almost nostalgic, in a way." Says the young man. He tilts the glass back and takes a slow pull, and hides a face. "Well, you don't seem caught up in it, at least?"

Rhodelia shrugs and goes back to not really cleaning the already clean spot. Really it's more just moving for movement's sake. "I mean… something happened. A whole wing of dragons doesn't fly into trees for fun. Right?" Her eyes turn towards the knot on his shoulder for a moment as if that means he should have the answers. "And like, if there really was a murder, they'd say something, right?" Her voice is now more of a whisper at the moment.

Alas, it is a lot like asking an intern for answers, and here he is seeking the same. "Well. I knew one or two that might." Cielo shakes his head and cups the other hand around his glass. "We patched up a few sails and the like, but haven't got the story yet." He senses the gaze, glances at the patrons, and leans over a bit to confide. "I can't think why not? Those sorts of conspiracies, well, that's just not really.. us, y'know?"

"I don't know if I've really been here long enough to know…" Rhodelia frowns as she picks up a glass and starts scrubbing at it. "A party getting out of hand, I could probably understand?" Especially if there were booze and fire going on. That definitely seems more like the Xanadu she knows, but she's just shaking her head. "But all this?" She nods her head towards the muttering customers. "Seems like everybody is thinking things are off and so since they think it, they'll end up making mistakes and end up blaming a 'curse' or something."

"I can't say I've ever quite felt it… might be just a chill in the air, you know? People get a good sun and a good song, spend a good night with the mister or missus and they forget all about it." Cielo smiles. It's a 'trying' smile, more than it is a lying one. "If there is something amiss, it'll get sorted too and that'll be that. Hopefully before we get too tied up in unpleasant mumblings…"

Rhodelia blinks over at the trying smile, eyebrows raised showing her dubiousness. "So you've never felt worried about something? Like… ever? More than a night? Sometimes a thought just gets in your head and it won't get out." Like that non-existent spot that has apparently moved from the bar to the glass that she just keeps scrubbing as she eyes some of the other patrons. Maybe the group-think-worry is catching.

Cielo laughs at that and puts a free hand up. "I get bad feelings. Worries. I just don't call them curses. I'd be paralyzed if I conjured some sort of blight and let it haunt my dreams and my drinking…" He shakes his head in distaste at the idea. "If there ~is~ something afoul, there is a reason, and kin to see it ended proper. Besides." Another drink and a silly smile. "I've… always preferred angels to devils, in that sort of think."

To be fair, Rhodelia should probably worry more than she has, especially considering how common fire and nearly falling out of trees and swan attacks have been to her since arriving at the Weyr. But for now, she just shrugs. "The other option is drinking until you can't think. But that's not a solution to anything either." She should know, being the bartender. "Glass half full, eh?"

For having grown up here, Cielo should be used to this sort of thing. Maybe he's had his head in the caverns too long. Or maybe Rhodelia is… blessed in her experiences. "I can barely justify this much." He sighs, tilting his glass. "Need steady hands and never know when I might need them." As if there weren't a school full of other healers more experienced, more ready than he ever was. And as if they never unwound either. "If the glass is half full, you should probably finish it," he teases, and tips it back. "Cheers." May as well end on a good note!

"That much, but it's just an ale…" Depsite just going on about not drinking to excess, Rhodelia will seem equally perplexed about the sudden moderation. And even more so when he's downing it and then heading out. She'll shrug yet again and give a wave. At least that now empty glass gives her something to clean that actually needs cleaning. And then she'll spend the rest of the shift chasing after more non-existent spots until closing.

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