In Hot Water

Participants:

Max.jpg Warin.jpg Charlie.jpg

Date: 2011.04.28
Location: EW - Living Caverns
Synopsis: Max, the 'barbarian' meets her 'ladyship', Charlie and Warin gets stuck in the middle.
Rating: PG13
Logger: Max

It's pre-morning crunch in the living cavern. Riders are coming in from dawn sweeps while some weyrfolks are just dragging themselves out of bed. Charlie looks as though she's been up for awhile, at least if the effort she's put into her hair and clothing is any indication. She steps into the weyrhall, lifting her chin slightly as she catches someone staring at her and makes her way to the serving table to check what's on the menu.

Max, not normally one to darken the living caverns with his presence, preferring to take his meals either in his office or on the job with his men, is to be found at the serving counter staring dubiously down at the plate of food that’s just been handed to him. One by one he starts picking the vegetables off the plate and dumping them into an empty bowl placed off to one side. That of course earns him no favour with the ruddy faced cook behind the counter, who gives an indignant splutter, “You can’t be doing that!” – “Oh?” Max lifts a brow, sets her with a challenging smirk and deliberately dumps another two or three pieces of steamed vegetables into the bowl.

Charlie leans around the person in front of her and peers down her nose at Max and in particular the vegitables being scraped off his plate. Her nose crinkles up as she clears her throat lightly, "Is it really that bad then?" It's not the tone as much as her expression that registers her concern for the food of the day.

The comment coming from someone just behind him has Max turning his head over his shoulder and giving Charlie a quick up and down. Catching her near haughty look, he gives a grunt, “Show me a kid that’ll eat that stuff an’ I’ll eat my hat.” The wide-brimmed one he’s still wearing on his head and hasn’t bothered removing for all that it would be the polite thing to do being as how he’s now indoors.

Charlie's nose stays crinkled up as she meets Max's gaze with the unwavering weight of her stare for a moment before sweeping the look first down and then back up in slow progress. "You don't look like a child to me. Besides, it's wasteful." She's standing in line with other weyr-folk, ready to get some morning chow. It's still early so there are no many people around between the very-early and late rush. "Oh, and do take off your hat. My goodness, have manners gone out completely?" With a huff she pushes her way forward and takes up her plate.

His mother being who she is, Max is unaffected by such looks or comments and merely sets Charlie with a smirk for her words and then turns to the cook, “Told ya I wasn’ gonna eat ‘em.” The bowl is then picked up and handed back to the cook, “Give ‘em to her,” a tip of head Charlie’s way, “She seems real worried about ‘em.” Low, unapologetic laughter is all that greets her comment about his hat, he even being so bold as to tip to fingers to it as he steps aside to allow the woman to more easily push her way in front of him. But then the beast manager leans toward her and comments in sotto tone, “I do believe the correct term is, ‘Excuse me’?” Ayup, he can deliver lessons in manners too.

Charlie's gaze slides away only to roll up at his additional rudeness. She's not put out by it though. In fact it only inspires something in her that makes the woman step over to the be-hatted man to reach up and actually try to snatch the garment from his head. All this without a change in her expression at all. "Savages." Meeting his gaze again, with or without the hat in her clutches. She bares her teeth in a very pretty smile, "Manners are -lost- on the likes of -you-."

Amusement fades and Max flicks a warning glance the blonde’s way, his hand snapping out, fingers closing about her wrist as she reaches for his hat. “There’s only two ways this hat comes off without my say-so and I’m bettin’ you ain’t the type of girl that’s gonna like either one of ‘em,” her smile returned with one of his own that’s laced with an icy edge for the insult she delivers and then a low laugh spills out and he releases her wrist. “Someone needs to come down off her high an’ mighty runner,” and then he gives a mocking half-bow, “Mi’lady,” and steps off to one side to start cutting the rest of what’s left on his plate into tiny pieces.

The altercation captures Warin's attention, and the assistant Steward heads over toward the Beastmaster and the unfamiliar woman. "Pardon me," he begins, "Is there something I can help with?"

Charlie's gasp has a peircing sound to it as she finds herself caught in the strong hand. She wasn't expecting that and there's a wherry-in-the-glows look about her eyes for a moment before she wrenches her hand away, likely at the same time he's releasing her anyway. It's a victory to her mind and her chin bobs up, and there's all manner of sharpness on the tip of her tongue but it's nipped away as her attention is diverted by Warin. The speed that she masks her emotions with a pleased little smile is an artform really. "No thank you. That is, here's what I was after…" Sweeping a hand towards the food and taking up a plate she she might make a haughty departure towards the klah.

Charlie's reaction causes a deep smirk to curl about the beast manager's mouth, his eyes locking to hers as she frees herself, "Aye, I figured as much." Her lift of chin has Max lifting a brow silently daring her to say whatever it was that had sprung to mind, however Warin's appearance has his attention dropping back down to the plate and he goes back to his casual lean of hip against the counter and task of making confetti out of the food. "Help?" faint amusement back again, his dark regard slipping up and down the steward, and then he stabs his fork the way of the cook who is now serving someone else, "You could try explainin' to the cook that if a man says he don't want vegetables, then he don't want vegetables." As to Charlie's potential departure toward the klah, he lifts his voice, "You might wanna try somethin' a little stronger, darlin'. I hear it helps dislodge sticks from arses." Ahem, way to earn yourself a slap, mate.

Warin nods warily at Charlie's reaction, moving out of the way with practised fluidity. At Max's first comment, he gives a nod and appears to be about to move off, muttering "No need to refill the vegetables." Then the second comes out. Although he rolls his eyes, a ghost of a smirk crosses Warin's features.

Charlie looks over her shoulder, the expression pure disgust, "Barbarians." She glances at Warin then, ice around the eyes for that tiny smirk, or perhaps for playing up to Max and not defending the honor of a woman who's ass just came into question. She silently pours a mug of klah, nice and hot too. Now she has a dangerous weapon. "Kind of you to worry about my ass, but I like it just as it is." The smile paints back over her features as she sizes up Max, the distance to him and decides to sip the drink instead. "Besides, it keeps anyone from blowing smoke up it. I'm sure you're well accustomed to /that/."

“At your service, darlin’,” Max the barbarian gives with a tip of hat and then he shifts away from his lean and leaving his plate where it is, he wanders a step or two closer to Charlie and makes a show of checking out said ass. “Not bad,” he gives his assessment and laughter rumbles in his chest, a look being sent Warin’s way as he pulls the poor steward into the mix, “What you think? A seven? Though maybe a six if you account for the stick, aye?” Oh yeah, he’s pushing his luck and apparently enjoying every minute of it for next his hands palm down his chest and broad shoulders roll in a shrug on the matter of smoke blowing, “Don’t knock it ‘til you tried it, darlin’.” Griiiin.
Warin's lapse was temporary, and he's back to his neutral self by the time Max calls him on the carpet. He hastily glances down at his clipboard and then murmurs, "I'm sorry, sir, I must have missed what you said." He quickly moves over to the table and once again begins tabulating the state of the food. The nearly-full tray of veggies gets a few seconds' further attention.

Charlie might not be able to take a big chunk out of Max, but she might make a meal out of Warin—debateable really but the steward is backing down. She gives her attention to Warin a moment longer, frowning as he fusses over his board and the food. Then Max has her full, frosty attention. "It's a 10." She leans in, "Trust me." Because the skirts just don't do the backside justice. And since the stableman is coming up to her so nice, she doesn't have to launch the hot klah nearly so far as she flings it at his face.

Warin disappearing into the safety of his work has Max sending him a snort as he lets the male side down, "Alright Skippy, play it your way." And then he turns back to Charlie just in time to catch her comment, "A ten, eh?" his hand lifting and rubbing across his stubbled chin as he once again puts the woman's rear under study while affecting scepticism on that matter. "Dunno, maybe if you shake it about a bit?" And then SPLASH, his face becomes the target of burning hot klah drawing a howl of pain and an extremely impolite curse to be uttered. Both hands scrubbing at his face, the beast manager's voice comes muffled, "What the shards is your problem!? Is every woman in this Weyr, mad!?" More mutters and curses ensue as he grabs blindly at something, anything to wipe at his face. Finding nothing at hand, he grabs a pitcher of iced water, snatches his hat from his head and summarily dumps the contents over his head. Now he's dripping wet and mad as a tunnelsnake.

The yelp of pain and the curse are not as easily ignored, and Warin hurries over, offering Max a towel he really could have used a few seconds ago. "Are you all right, sir? Should I call a Healer?" He also glances at Charlie, no longer neutral, but openly disapproving. "I don't know who you are, ma'am, but the manners you seem to care so passionately about include not making a fuss in an area wherein you are a guest. I will be informing Headwoman Indira of your actions." He doesn't move off to just yet, though, awaiting Max's answer.

"Oh yes, let us talk about -manners- now." Charlie seeths at the steward, particularly at his obsequious attitude towards Max and the quickly drawn out towel. "For the love of the first egg. I'm Charlie. And I'm not going to have -anyone- insulting me without taking matters into my own hands. Go ahead and take that to your Headwoman. Matter-of-fact. How about we go there right now and talk with her huh? Because, it's alright for -him- to insult me and thumb his nose at me, but I'm just to stand and take it? Well, you better punish me and be done with it mister."

Taking the towel from Warin, Max growls, “Oh now you jump in!” Grumpy as a wild feline in hot water he mops at his face and then glares at Charlie, “Aye, a sharding mindhealer!” For her, not him because he’d likely drive a mindhealer to tossing themselves off of the star stones. And then, he does something that might be completely unexpected, he jumps to the blonde’s defence, “Best you leave the Headwoman outta this.” Because no man wants or needs his mother fighting his battles for him, right? Right. A nod is sent the way of the plate of ‘confetti’ food, “You can see she gets that though. Me and the Miss High n’ Mighty Charlie here, we gonna have ourselves a talk, ain’t that right, darlin’?” That as he reaches for Charlie’s elbow with a view to steering her out of the public eye of the living caverns unless of course she avoids his attempt.

Warin observes, "You were giving as good as you were getting verbally, ma'am. And you instigated the physical assault. Do also note that the Weyr does not appreciate good food being wasted." He nods when Max intervesnes, but does note, "I will have to include the incident in my daily report, if nothing else, sir. It's my head if she hears about it via some other source." Like the grumbling kitchen worker who is even now mopping up the thrown klah.

Charlie's head shakes, slow back and forth but the movements turn sharp when the strong hand grasps her elbow. "It's a mug of klah." She shows the unbroken mug. "I'll pay for it." Whatever other remark she might make is clipped off with a click of teeth. She is likely the most insane woman Max has ever known, she's not going to protest that statement, nor being drawn outside. "Still think we should all go to the Headwoman. Cowards."

Max sends Warin an exasperated roll of eyes, “Aye, and its her boot aimin’ for my arse if you do.” But despite his words he doesn’t seem too perturbed about the potential repercussions of the Headwoman finding out. And then a brow goes up for the admonishment sent Charlie’s way by Warin and his words come close on the heels of hers, “It was just a bit of klah, steward. If it worries you that much, I’ll sharding pay for it.” His attempt successful, he gives the blonde a tug toward the exit, setting her with a smirk, “Believe me darlin’, you don’t want to be goin’ to the Headwoman right now.” More like he doesn’t but whatever gets the woman’s feet moving, his free hand lifting surreptitiously to send Waine the finger as they pass by, his second in command having arrived in time to catch his boss being doused with klah and snickering away quietly in a corner. Charlie calling him a coward that draws a snort of amusement from the man despite how it pulls at reddened and tender skin, “We’ll see who the coward is.” Uh oh?

Warin mutters, "Only klah today, but if she keeps acting like a sharding child, with apologies to children, it'll be platefuls of food next. Now, if you'll pardon me, I had better get the little one her food before it gets cold." He picks up the plate of confetti food, balances it on his clipboard, then heads to the kitchens.

Charlie ignores Warin and she would ignore Max too, except that he's drawing her out of the room. She hisses like a cat who has been trod upon, "Not so /hard/…you oaf! I can follow just as well as…OW! YOU"RE BRUSING ME!" But, she goes along, struggling as she's drawn in Max's wake.

Platefuls of food next? Oddly enough that captures Max’s interest and he turns a sidelong glance onto Charlie, “Am I goin’ to need to open a runnin’ tab with the Weyr or are you gonna start behavin’ yourself?” The question is rhetorical. To Warin goes a nod of thanks and then Max, undeterred by Charlie’s hissing and struggling strides out of the living cavern with oddly enough, not a soul stepping forward to interfere. “Quit it! I ain’t barely got a hold of you, your ladyship.” Tone mocking as the pair exit the caverns leaving the place a twitter with snickers and rife with gossip.


Billy Idol - Wild One


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