Participants:
| Date: | 15.03.2011 |
|---|---|
| Location: | The Feather and Fowl, just outside of Landing |
| Synopsis: | After Jhath and Ahnika leave, Max heads back to the tavern where Indira finds him and tries to make sense of the recent tiff between the two. |
| Rating: | PG18 - Language |
| Logger: | Max |
“FUCK!” Max’s frustration roared out onto the evening air as it enveloped the departing green pair. A nearby rock became the object of his discontent and went bounding into the trees after receiving a hard kick of boot and then the young crimelord went stalking back through the trees, bristling.
Brushing passed a few patrons without so much as a glance as he entered the tavern he made a beeline for the bar and growled out his order, “Whisky. Double.”
Having been in the middle of listening to the old tavern owner recounting a particularly amusing story, Indira turned her head in time to catch her son come storming into the place like a wher with a sore head and…alone. For a moment a brow arched up high and then with a soft sigh she turned to Messon with an apologetic smile in place and excused herself.
The first pouring of amber liquid had gone straight down his throat without even touching sides, the second, Max was now staring morosely into, the muscles in his jaw flexing in agitation.
Arriving at his side, Indira took to leaning a hip casually against the bar, studying her brooding son in silence for a moment. “Where’s Ahnika?”
Without looking up, Max’s lips thinned and then he grated out, “She left.”
“Left?” again an expressive brow lifted, “What do you mean, she left?”
“She left, as in climbed up on that dragon of hers and fucked off!” he elaborated heatedly and then threw the next glass of whiskey down his throat.
Indira blinked and cast a glance toward the tavern’s entrance as if she were expecting to see the redhead standing there and then turned a narrow eyed look onto her son. “What the shards happened?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Max gave out low and indicated to the serving girl behind the counter that he wanted another refill.
A soft sigh escaped the Headwoman’s lips and she slipped gracefully to the stool next to him two fingers lifting in gesture to the same serving girl to pour her the same and then she turned her attention back to the young man. “What did you do?” the question asked with the quiet knowledge of a mother who knows her offspring all too well.
Dropping his hands away from where they’d placed to the sides of his head, Max looked up, dark eyes shadowed with confusion and regret, “Fucked if I know.”
“You must have said something to her to make her go running off?” Indira continued to press, giving a nod of thanks to the buxom brunette as she delivered their drinks.
“Aye, because it’s always my fault ain’t it?” A snort of disgust was uttered, followed shortly by a heavy exhale of breath. “I dunno, Ma. I just pointed out that she needs to be careful what she says around…certain types and she went all flamethrower on me. Told me I value the opinion and words of…others,” careful not to mention names given their surroundings, “over hers.”
“Ah,” the sound of understanding came soft from Indira and then she fell quiet as she took a sip of her drink. Putting a careful look onto her son, her tone was gentle, “You need to be patient with her, Max. You can’t expect her to understand the nuances of the business you now run. When she met you, you were a beast manager and now you’re…” she lifted a hand and waved it up and down, “what you are now. That’s a big adjustment for anyone, Love, especially for one as sheltered as she was.”
A growl echoed out behind his upturned glass and Max set his mother with a hard look, “You think I don’t know that?” Frustration caused the timbre of his voice to peak upward before he slipped back into brooding silence, knocking back his third drink and then reaching for the bottle the barmaid had left out on the counter. “I don’t expect her to get it. But I’m starting to get the feeling she’s just waiting for me to fuck up so that she can find excuse to leave.”
Dark blond brows pressed toward each other in a frown, “That’s not fair, Max.”
“Not fair? I’ll tell you what’s not fucking fair. The fact that she bloody runs away any time she hears something she doesn’t like or it starts to get a little tough. And then that fucking green of hers has the gall to accuse me, of abandoning her!”
Indira blinked, “Ahnika said that?”
Max’s lips pressed into a discomforted line, “No, Jhath did.” Lifting a hand he tapped a finger against the side of his head that was still aching from the mind-blasting he’d gotten from the green before they’d left, “In here.”
“Jhath…spoke to you?” the Headwoman looked understandably stunned by the revelation.
“More like, yelled,” Max gave with a snort and disappeared back into his drink again.
The older blond continued to stare at her son for another moment or two before turning to her own drink and slipping into silent contemplation. Her mind once again strayed back to the fight she had had with his father all those turns back when L’min had begun grooming his son to one day take his place amongst the dragonriders of Pern.
“So…you and Keane, huh?” Max drawled out, turning slightly toward her and hooking an elbow up on the bar as the booze started to take the edge off his anger.
Snapped from her reverie with those words, Indira set him with a disparaging look, “Don’t try to change the subject. What are you going to do about Ahnika?”
A smirk passed across his features for his mother’s first and then his expression closed, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” Max confirmed and then added in a flat tone, “Ain’t no point in trying to talk to her when she’s got a bug up her arse.”
“You’re mighty sure of yourself that she’ll come to you to talk things out,” Indira put out in cautionary notation.
Dark eyes sought similar out and Max set an intractable look onto his mother, “She’s the one that did the running instead of turning and facing the watch-wher,” self-derision dropping into his tone for the analogy used, “I ain’t chasing after someone that don’t wanna be chased after. She ain’t exactly without blame in all this herself.”
“That’s…quite the risk you’re taking there, Love,” concern shadowed her expression.
“My whole fucking life is a risk these days, why should this be any different?” Max countered with cynically and then without further comment on the matter dropped booted feet to the floor and stood, taking up the bottle of whiskey from the bar counter. “Saron will be by to pick up cargo for his first run. Give him empty crates. I want him to do a dry run first to see if he can be trusted.” And with that bit of business spoken, the young crimelord lifted the bottle up as if in sardonic toast, “To many more ‘happy’ turndays, aye?” And then he left to go and find somewhere to drown his sorrows while he awaited the return of his transport back to the Weyr.
Once again a soft sigh parted Indira’s lips as she watched her troubled son leave. “Happy turnday, my boy,” she whispered out quietly and then, fitting a bright smile into place, she stood and rejoined the gregarious Messon, determined to seal the business deal they’d already started negotiating before Max had stalked into the tavern.
Closing Credits: Daughtry - What I Meant To Say