Calling Cards


Lorayit.jpg Max.jpg Waine.jpg Vaputero and Faust are NPC'd by Lorayit, and Waine is NPC'd by Max

Date: June 25, 2011
Location: Stables, EW
Synopsis: Vaputero is returning to Bitra, and the usual banter of threats and warnings are issued as Max sees him off. Lorayit is given a pivotal ultimatum.
Rating: PG-15 for some language
Logger: Lorayit

After the meeting with Olira, things went downhill from there. Vaputero was a terror at business meetings he had, he sulked among his men beyond the Weyr borders, and he and his second-in-command took out their frustrations on one wily gardener. It’s likely why Lorayit’s walk is stilted in gait as he clutches his left side, leaning and trying to look casual in the face of the two Bitran men that were preparing their runners to depart Eastern Weyr under the cover of darkness. Lo stays to the shadows, watching them as they talk amongst themselves and occasionally look his way. Apparently they’ve already had the meeting over cards, and apparently, it was not a good outcome.

Needless to say security had been tightened even more after Vaputero had lost it at the meeting with Olira for Max wasn't about to risk the man making an attempt at abducting either his son or the boy's young Tillekian mother. Of course, the moment the Bitran pair had set foot in the beast caverns to start prepping their runners for departure, Max and Waine knew about it.

Thumbs hooked into his belt Max comes at a slow saunter down the aisle with Waine trailing just a step or two behind. Dark eyes land first on Lo and the careful gait employs and then tighten a look onto Vaputero and Faust. "Leaving us already?" the southern crimelord affects disappointment and then follows it with sarcasm, "And here I was gonna hold a Gather in your honour and all."

Leaning against a stall door, Lorayit affects a look of open non-chalance when Max and Waine walk by. Vaputero has his back to the approaching men, but Max’s sarcasm gets a brisk “Folly. I oughta knock you to the ground and leave you as fodder for your damn runners.” Faust’s head appears around one runner he’s fiddling with to peer at the men, his eyes cold but saying nothing. Lorayit from where he stood adds in drolly, “Time grows short and there’s pressing business to be done up in Bitra. What he means to say is he regrets having to leave your kind hospitality so soon and would be more than happy to return the favor the time you choose to head into his territory.” – “I don’t need a fucking interpreter!” Vaput snaps back at him, his hand on the reins he holds tightening. He hears the touch of sarcasm in the gardener’s voice, alright.

All pretence at niceties falls away for a spell and Max narrows a daggered look onto Vaputero's back. "Try it," he growls out low, his patience long since worn thin with the Bitran and now just itching for a reason to ram his fist into his face and cut him down to size. Literally if need be. It's Waine that then inserts himself just a step ahead of his boss, thus putting himself between the southern crimelord and the Bitran pair, his blue-eyed gaze flicking from Lorayit when he speaks, to Vaputero when he snaps and back to Max who catching that look forces calm back into place. "Take note that you leave unmolested and were granted access to visit with your son," Max sends with a pointed look to his Bitran counterpart, "there are those that wouldn't be so accommodatin'."

Vaputero turns then when Max puts forth that challenge and steps forward as if to put action to words. Right when he does, Waine come forth and Faust immediately follows suit. Looking much like it’s the second-in-commands facing off now, there’s slow, cold laughter before Vaputero growls, “My son,” back to Max’s words, the thought of that meeting starting to rile him up all over again. “How lucky of me to be granted access to see my son. You and that bitch are in cahoots, huh?” Vaputero presses forward, but Faust actually shoulders him back along with a low, “Let them play their games, boss. They think they’re running the show,” he sends the last with a hard look towards both Max and Waine, his words sounding ominous. Lorayit picks that up himself and continues with the game, “What he means to say is he feels overwhelmed with the kindness showed him on letting him see his son that he wants to return the favor – that you and his son’s mother did him a service.” – “Enjoy your quips, gardener,” Faust is sending over his shoulder towards Lo, frowning heavily. “You have much to answer for, mate.”

"He's no more yours than he's mine," Max states tightly as his chin goes up, setting Vaputero with a cold smile as he lays out suspicion that perhaps the child is not the Bitran's after all. A bold and perhaps foolish move on his part but he's young and has yet to learn which battles are worth fighting and which not. Waine's arms unfold from where they'd been folded across his chest when Vaputero tries to shoulder his way forward, large hands dangling within easy reach of his knives. All Faust's words earn him is a flat look from Max and a snort from the southern second. Both however turn a narrow-eyed look onto Lorayit for his comment but it's the southern crimelord that speaks up, his attention remaining on the gardener when he responds, "You can tell him that his keepin' outta my territory from now on will be considered favour enough." As if Vaputero weren't standing right there.

“Just like the south is no more yours than it’s mine,” Vaput is quick to counter, the threat rising in his stature. “I see bold becomes you, beast tender. Perhaps I’ve been too lax in sending out lessons.” Faust continues to hold him back, his eyes cold on Waine when he seems the second shift. All narrow looks being sent towards Lorayit, however, earns them all a twitch of brows, not looking the least apologetic for his interpretations. Shrugging into the heavy silence, “Hey, I figure I get all my quips in while I can. It’s the least I can do.” But Max’s last earns a thoughtful look from the gardener, causing Vaputero to bristle at the insult before Lo states, “Big job, keeping a crimelord out of the south. Almost sounds like a challenge, eh?” – “Sounds like one to me,” Faust seems to agree, his hard gaze never leaving Waine’s. Vaput flat out dismisses it with a cool, “Empty words from a crimelord with slippery claims.” He forcefully pushes Faust off of him then, returning to gather up his runner’s reins before adding, “The man forgets there’s a whole lot of the south to watch – even the parts uncharted,” and he looks perhaps significantly towards Lorayit. “Not even Serevan himself could say he knows all the ways in and out of this land. Too many men I know willing to take the risk of wild felines and dangers, too.” Hard eyes falling back on Max sharply, “I will see my son again,” he says that with open certainty. “Try and stop me.”

Words such as those have anger whipping tension across Max's frame and he gives a small roll of head as if to try and loosen out the muscles in his neck and shoulders. A heavy look settles onto Vaputero from out of which a brow lifts, "That sounds a lot like a threat to me, Bitran." Waine inhales a slow breath, his massive chest expanding as lungs fill and making him look very much like a herdbeast bull pawing at the ground and laying down warning of a charge. He says nothing however, simply stands there staring the Bitrans down. With all the words being thrown about on his apparent inability to keep the south in check and suggestion made to his having bitten off more than he can chew, Max gives a rough snort of derision, "You'd be surprised to find how small things get when you're way up high." Putting pointed reminder to the fact that he has an entire Weyr of dragonriders at his disposal which is more than a lot of crimelords can say. "No, you won't," he then gives with dark certainty on Vaputero ever seeing his son again, "He belongs to Relly and only her. You denied yourself any rights the day you raped her."

“Because it is,” Vaputero bites back on threats, growling as his second stays in front of him. “Come and do something about it.” – “In a stable, of all places?” Lorayit drawls from his vantage position, the man studying the altercation with a bland expression on his face. With Waine tensing up, Faust has no choice to bulk himself up to his full height in face of that as if preparing for a fight. Max’s alluding to the dragonriders he has with him gets laughter from Vaputero, the big Bitran stepping forward again and dropping, “And that’s suppose to scare me? Didn’t realize Eastern Weyr had all the wings at their disposal, between Thread flights and all, to go hunting for little ole’ me.” Oh yeah. Having been at the Weyr for days now, Vaput has picked up on how little the wings are in comparison to other Weyrs. The smile is cold and inviting as he lets that sink in. “I suppose you’ll have to draft those runners of yours in, too, to pad the gaps? Too bad runners can’t fly.” But then Max is countering his ever seeing Rellehan again, and the crimelord of Bitra’s laughing at the last words like a man unhinged. He looks as if he’s going to counter, but he stops before quieter laughter assails him again and he shakes his head and turns back to saddling up his runner.

"Ain't that just like a Bitran to come into another man's territory, be given hospitality and then throw down a threat," Max is unimpressed as he stalks a step closer. "Hear this, mate. You so much as touch anyone under my protection and your canine here will be wipin' your arse for you for the rest of your life." He lets the comment about what he may or may not have at his disposal to aid running the southern continent go, merely setting Vaputero and Faust with a tight and knowing smirk. Taking a step back again Waine is sent a silent look and he too steps back. "It don't take a trackin' canine to follow your stench, Bitra." Max sneers in return but he's gotten to the point of no longer caring whether he's making an enemy of the man or not for from the day Vaputero had entered the Weyr, he'd made it clear the southerner was already on his shitlist. That bout of maniacal laughter gets a lift of brow followed by a cold, "Now tack up and fuck off." Max has had enough!

“You would know,” Vaput jabs back on Bitrans, taking a dig at the missing Dicori barkeep. Then Max is stepping close and Faust and doing it too to keep his boss back, those words acting like a crack of the whip in his face. Low, intentional, “I don’t give a fuck who is under your protection, beast manager,” the big Bitran states, his grey eyes boring into Max’s. “No one stops me. Not even you and your little band of dragonriders.” But laughter is all he’s getting for the rest, the big Bitran crimelord finally swinging up his runner and nodding towards a watching Lorayit as he sends out, “Let’s get out of here, gardener. The stench of runner shit is starting to cloud the senses.” It’s only once Vaputero is on his runner that Faust finally takes a step away from Max and Waine, his eyes never leaving them as he slowly makes his way around towards his own runner. As an aside to Lo, “Take your shit, too, while you’re at it. You ain’t coming back here, mate.” Not if he can help it.

If Vaputero was hoping to further rankle Max with that dig about Jaya, he fails for amazingly enough; it draws laughter from the southerner. Perhaps he’s not quite sane himself for that amusement continues to linger through the frosty chill of his expression that greets that look coming from the Bitran, dead on. “Oh, you’ll be stopped alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow and maybe not by my hand, but your days are growin’ shorter’n shorter, mate,” spoken with a certain dark relish to his tone. Its only when Lorayit is being ordered to pack up and leave with Vaputero and Faust, that Max and Waine simultaneously send a silently querying look the garderner’s way – is this what he wants? Both prepared to do whatever necessary to keep him on southern soil should that be his wish.

“Shorter’n shorter through age, maybe,” Faust puts in for a counter, his turn to chuckle at the verbal jab being thrown between the crimelords. “You and yours oughta be more worried than us.” The Lorayit is looked upon by all when he doesn’t move. The man is clearly hesitating, not really wanting to go and so he drawls into the silence, “So soon? I do believe there’s a row of plants that the infirmary was hoping I could cultivate properly. Perhaps I can stop by in a month-“ – “This isn’t no damn negotiation, gardener,” Faust seems to take pleasure in speaking that way to the man, his teeth showing in a crooked smile. “You’re with us now or you’re a damn turncoat. You know what we do to turncoats, doncha?” Vaputero doesn’t need to speak for the words were true. He snort then, reining in his runner as he adds, “Perhaps you need some….motivation, and a trip down memory lane,” the crimelord states easily then. “You have a sevenday to return. Just remember Besutol while you’re ….cultivating.” Faust laughs, shoving his feet down and getting his runner to jump as they prepare to take off.

"Mmm," Max's response is dubious on both counts and he drops the matter, his attention going firmly to Lorayit and the response he gives. Waine pulls up to his full height and under the guise of moving toward a bridle left hanging on a peg nearby lends solid physical support to the gardener as his path puts him directly between the young blonde man and the two Bitrans. "And don't forget, there's a numbweed harvest what's comin' up," Max puts in though what he has to do with or knows about said harvesting, is anyone's guess. "Gonna be a month at least." And although he looks at Lorayit with a brow lifted in pointed manner, his words are aimed at Vaputero. The manner in which Faust treats the runner has the southern crimelord finding himself having to reign in anger as it once again comes flying to the fore. "You be sure not to let the door hit you on the arse on the way out now," that comes from Waine with a chilly little smile attached as the pair look set to finally take their leave.

“Can’t miss the numbweed harvest,” Lorayit seems to agree, his expression giving nothing away to either crimelord. “Need all the help we could get. Maybe you kind fellas want to come back and join in? No?” Faust spits on the ground on that one, but it’s Vaputero that speaks toward both Max and Lo. “A sevenday,” he’s repeating more pointedly, sniffing. “You can stay here until Thread stops falling from the sky, it’s nothing to me. Besutol might think differently.” Beat. “He might not think at all.” With that lingering look, the crimelord of Bitra is spurring his runner in a flurry of calls and pounding hooves, the faint sound of laughter and the call “Let’s rein it up, boys!” in his wake. Faust stays behind for a moment longer, his eyes boring into Waine for his last before a slow smile peeks out and the mountain man drawls out, “See you soon,” before blowing a mocking kiss their way and spurring his runner off after his boss. Lorayit says nothing until there’s only smoke left: “Can’t wait to plant him into the ground.” And the tension seems to leave his shoulders as the Bitran men leave the Weyr behind.

The open threats being made against the gardener's brother cause Max's jaw to tighten, "That's if he's even still alive to think." He gives on the heels of Vaputero's comment, well aware that it would be just like the Bitran to continue to use Besutol to bring Lorayit to heel even after he was dead. Dark eyes drill holes into Vaputero's back as he and the others depart, utter loathing written plainly across the southern crimelord's face. "Looking forward to it," Waine drawls in response to Faust's words of farewell. That mocking kiss blown his way earns the Bitran a loud laugh that holds more menace to it than mirth. It seems…the battle lines have quite clearly been drawn. Gaze still lingering for a moment or two longer on the beast tunnel's exit, Max turns toward Lorayit, the stress and tension of the past few sevens etched across his visage. "You'll be the first to start fillin' in his grave," he gives with dark certainty on the Bitran's fate.

“Well,” Lo says too casually, leaning against the stall door still as he watches where the Bitrans went, “that was interesting. Entertaining, almost.” Straightening up and stepping forward, “You can have Vaputero,” he drawls, shrugging. “The man is only of interest to me because of Besutol.” He’s acting like his brother isn’t being held hostage with the way he’s speaking. “Leave Faust to me, though. Me and him have some unfinished business from turns back.” Turning to regard Max then, “You do realize he will make things hard for you from now on, ehh? Without ever having to step foot outside Bitra?” And then, nodding his head towards the doors, he adds dryly, “and he will kill my brother. Unless something is done in a sevenday.” Eyes narrowing a fraction in the lingering pause, “Might be,” he carefully adds now, “a man will turncoat if there’s protection enough to do so. If there was a way of…..reversing this fate.” He doesn’t linger on his meaning, expecting Max to pick it up.

"Cut the bullshit," Max drawls in return to the gardener's attempt at nonchalance, "the man's a fuckin' prick, end of story." Another glance toward the exit and then the southern crimelord is turning toward his office expecting Lorayit to fall into step with him, the men he has posted outside of the Weyr and along the route will be sure to see the Bitrans are well gone. "He ain't getting' Rellehan and he sure as shit ain't getting' Jaya," Max growls on Vaputero making his life hard, "So he woulda done it anyways whether I licked his arse for him or not." Waine looks expectedly disappointed when Lorayit claims Faust as his own to deal but concedes the man's right to do so, the bridle he'd moved toward earlier taken up and slung over a shoulder.

Halting in his path Max turns a long look onto the gardener, "You're sure about that?" Turncoating and coming over to his side. "You tell me what you need and I'm there for you and your brother but…" a hard light enters dark eyes, "Play me for a fool and I'll kill you myself." That a promise delivered with cold certainty.

Shrugging with a touch of amusement as he follows Max to his office, “He’s a prick, but who isn’t these days?” Lorayit’s countering, his tone back to its easy state. Talk of Rellehan and Jaya gets a blithe, “I get it with his son, but….” And he pauses turning to put Max in his sights, “….what’s the deal with Bajaya? Who’s to say she won’t turncoat on you? She is a Dicori, after all, unless….” And he pauses, a brow lifts almost pointedly and suggestively in any possibility of there being a relationship between the crimelord and the renegade woman. As they walked further and Max offers his help, the gardener rolls his eyes at the latter before stating, “I grow bored with all the threats, beast manager. If I’m stupid enough to turncoat on you, then catch me and kill me. That’s two brothers dead. But,” and he fits a long look onto Max and Waine, “you help keep me and mine’s alive, then I promise we’ll be good friends. Remember, though,” he drawls, gesturing for Max to open the door to his office, “this goes both ways. I make a good friend, but a bad enemy.”

"You're gonna let him off that easy after the workin' over he gave you?" Yeah, Max noticed the way Lorayit had been guarding his left side. The gardener's question draws the very faintest trace of a frown into place and then the southern crimelord is sending a sidelong glance his way, "She works for me," deciding that the safest route to go as he's still not sure just how far he can trust the man, "and she ain't gonna turn on me. She ain't like the others." Much as Jaya would probably counter that comment and the faith Max seems to have in her. "Only the stupid get bored," Waine states with a snort and heads toward the tack room when his boss veers toward his office. Halting with his hand to the doorknob of his quarters, Max sends Lo a tightly amused look, "Ain't got no interest in bein' anyone's enemy. Not without cause." Vaputero of course, had given him cause to his way of looking at it.

Lorayit presses his hand to his side when Max pays note to it, the gardener answering the first with a dry, “Oh, this? Some salve and I’ll be right as rain. I //do.. believe Vaputero will get his, though. He maybe getting his a little right now.” It’s said so casually, one would think the man was talking about a picnic. “Gave him a parting gift before he left,” he gives in the case that Max asks. “I have a plant that causes some unpleasant itching, and I may have sprinkled some in their underwears the last time I was in their room. I believe, their asses should be feeling quite, ah, inflamed, right about now.” Who says the name doesn’t have a sense of humor? Lo shrugs to that before sending over a cunning smile and a wry “They’ll need to have some unfortunate healer see to them or their asses will be in position to reach Bitra. It’s the least I could do.” He gives a long look on the topic of Jaya, gauging what expression he could see before drawling, “Work for you, huh? Guess that’s a nice way of putting it,” and no, he doesn’t seem wholly convinced. He snorts in Waine’s direction for his words and he answers the last with a smile. “Finally something we can both agree on,” he drawls, laughing. Gesturing forward, “Now open up and give me a good bottle. I could use a hangover in the morning, if you don’t mind.”

Casually said it may have been but Max picks up on it and lifts a brow Lorayit's way, a grin starts to unfold as the gardener goes on to explain his devious revenge taken and then its an outright guffaw that devolves into the laughter of someone that's been under a load of stress and now for the first time, has a chance to release some of it. Still laughing, Max shoulders the door open using thumb and forefinger to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. "You…are a tonic," he's finally able to say as breath returns and he gestures toward a chair, "I think you and me are gonna get along just fine." Because that kind of initiative and flair for the comical, he can get with! Humour fades to normality and Max sprawls into the chair behind his desk, hands lifting to palm over his face in a tired gesture and then he's putting a wry smirk onto Lorayit when he's called out on the relationship between himself and Jaya. "Working for me," he reiterates though this time there's a slight smile of unknown origins that comes into play. Leaning down to the left of him a blue bottle is extracted from a crate set behind his desk and set on its top with two glasses joining it. Pouring a healthy measure into each glass, Max nudges one toward Lo and lifts the other, "To hangovers and buryin' tunnelsnakes," smirk.

When Max starts laughing, it’s slow before Lorayit joins in more sedately. Shaking his head, “What, was that too much?” he feigns a frown before his dissolves to something more amiable. “I’m sure they’ll find some way to thank me,” he waves it off, the words easy. “Or not. I don’t think Vaput ever had a sense of humor, and it is humorous.” He drops into a seat then more carefully as pain lances up his left side, and the gardener fails in hiding the wince as he lowers. The words on working and Jaya gets an easy smirk, the gardener putting forth, “Hey, no need to convince me! Call it whatever you want, though I do wonder where that woman has gotten up to, and don’t-“ and a hand lifts as if to stall off any words Max may have had to answer him “-tell me that she has moved on, because that’s runnershit and you know it. I dunno a Bitran that would walk away from good marks, and she’s making good marks at that bar of hers, so spare me.” Smirking a little as he takes up the filled glass gratefully, he lifts his own to that toast and drawls, “Hopefully not in the same day. I’ve had enough excitement in this one sevenday that could last me the whole turn, thanks. Got me missing the fields all over again.” Then he takes a long drink.

Catching that wince, Max asks almost idly, "Been to see a healer about that?" Because he's always quicker to suggest another do so while entirely unwilling to follow his own advice. Glass to lips and the first mouthful of the spiced liquid being savoured, the southern crimelord's mouth curls around a smirk as he lowers his hand. "She's somewhere safe," is all he puts forth on Jaya and then adds with sincerity as he straightens in his seating, "I take care of my own, Lo. It ain't just a bunch of empty words to haul you over to my side and piss that Bitran bastard off, aye? She'll be back." Sooner rather than later his tone seems to imply for there's been a void left by Jaya's absence. One he's struggling to come to terms with. A bout of low laughter greets the gardener's last words, "You and me both, gardener." Sprawling in his chair legs extend under the desk and a sigh exhales, "Trouble can go fuck itself. I'm plannin' on a hot soak in the bathing caverns, a good hot meal and a nice soft bed in the company of a good woman for the next few days." Famous last words, mate.

He waves a hand to the question and shakes his head. “Not yet. Haven’t had the time, really, but now that they’re gone….” Lo drinks more from the glass, it seeming to be his tonic through the pain in his side as he finds himself settled into the chair. There’s hesitation on the next bit before he inclines his head to acknowledge it before draining down his glass to under half. “Well, the south is safe, so I reckon she could be anywhere,” he drawls, leaning back. I’ll hold you to those words of safety though,” and he tips his glass towards Max in indication. “I’m not easy to trust folks, so you’ll pardon me, but I have high hopes here. Gonna miss pulling jokes on his second, though. Felt good to give Faust an itchy bottom.” To the last there’s easy laughter – this was more of his taste than the talk of trouble. “I’ll take all that and raise the ante with two good women instead of one. All at once, even. Get a nice crate of wine and find a nice little cove where the only sounds heard for miles is the ones coming off of the waters. That’s the only poetry I like to hear.” He drains his glass the whole way then and sets it down to push forward for a refill.

Max's mouth twists around a wry line, "Aye, well see that you do. Can't have our number one flower tender killin' off his crops for lack of proper care." That probing statement on the south being safe enough for Jaya to be hidden in draws a low chuckle, "Nice try." Another drink and then, "Trust is earned, Lo. I get that." As to the matter of no longer being able to pull pranks on Faust, an entirely devilish grin appears, "There's always Waine. He loves a good prank," serving his second up as a sacrificial lamb for the gardener's entertainment. Laughter spills and the crimelord gives a shake of head, "Naw, one'll do me just fine," one in particular no doubt, "but I'm likin' the sounds of that cove. Could do with gettin' away for a bit myself and unwindin' after all this shite with your former boss." Former boss. Following suit and draining his glass, both are refilled it looking to be a long night of well earned drinking and banter no doubt.

A hand pressing over his heart to the initial words, “I feel touched,” Lorayit states, the smile easy before blossoming into a full-on laugh at Max’s next in regards to Jaya. His head thrown back momentarily, “And now I feel wounded! You’re a cruel crimelord, beast manager.” That laughter lingers on account of Waine, too, the gardener giving that one some considerable thought. “Waine, huh? I dunno, the man seems alright…..though I can’t resist a good target either, back in the day.” Which means, Waine better watch his back. Once refilled, he raises his glass then to the talk of relaxation and coves as he puts in, “Put it in while you can, eh? I’ve never known Vaputero to leave without dropping a calling card on his enemies.” Fair warning since he catches the ‘former’ attachment and the man is set to drinking and steering the conversation away to more venturous topics like the mines and Landing – indeed putting down well for a long night with the crimelord before he retires good and intoxicated.

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