Loser Pays


Merendezen.jpg Max.jpg

Date: 2010.09.29
Location: EW - Max's Office
Synopsis: Zen drops by for a visit and Max questions him on any known associations with Vaputero
Rating: PG13
Logger: Max

Mid evening finds the beast caverns settled into their usual state of earthy peace and quiet with the glows lidded to just enough light so as to not stumble into something. One of the stalls however, is brightly lit and the low murmuring of a male voice comes from it, interspersed by the soft snorts of a runner and shuffling sounds as it moves about.

Evening, despite his lifemate sleeping, Zen is found wandering. Which is not entirely a bad thing as occasionally the man needs time to think to himself with no other mind present. Though it is his feet that lead him into the beast caverns, and over towards the light. Curiosity sparked, despite the fact that he is not entirely aware until he's leaning against the stall and peering inside.

His little ordeal with the runner thieves has gone a long ways to extracting some of the fight from the palomino stallion. However, that doesn’t mean to say he’s become docile by any stretch of the imagination as evidenced by the way he’s currently edging about in circles trying to keep his almost healed foreleg just out of Max’s reach. Just as the beast manager reaches in, a gob of salve on his fingers, Renegade drops his head and butts his handler hard on the shoulder sending him staggering back a step or two. “Quit it!” he gives through a hiss, rolling the affected shoulder and then moving doggedly back in again, determined to get the salve onto the red scar left in the wake of the knife wound.

M'zen watches Max, but not with a look of amusement as one would think. No, he's turning gaze on that runner and staring him down. One can only wonder if he's trying to mentally will the beast down in order to give the beast master an easier time of it. Though, after a moment he rests, leaning in forward just a bit more. "Troubles?" Well, no duh. An easy grin begins to pull at the corner of his lips. "How're you doing, Max? Came to visit, y'know… No drama this time."

Finally, one hand laid flat to the side of Renegade’s cheek to keep him from trying that move again, Max bends and is able to get the goop to the wound, fingers moving in firm but gentle circles as he works it in. His head lifts at the sound of Zen’s voice and he straightens and wiping his hand off against his trousers, a wry twist of mouth forming, “Wouldn’t mind this being the kind of trouble that’s kicking my ass,” his voice sounding a little ominous. With a last assessing look over the stallion’s foreleg, he lids the glows back down to a dim light and steps out of the stall, locking the half door behind him. Dark eyes flicker over to his friend and his reply is honest, “Been better,” and then jerks his head the way of his office, “We need to talk.” So much for no drama this time.

M'zen lets out a soft grunt, "looking good, though. The cut." A nod towards the runner before he returns to silence, moving aside and green eyes following the form of his friend. Then, those hands are shoved in his pockets before he begins to head towards the office. "What's got you down?" And the statement is met with another grunt, "didn't do anything in the last few days since our last talk to warrant another talk… What's up?"

With a glance back to Renegade a smile of more genuine depth is given along with a nod, “Aye. He’s been putting weight on it the last day or so. Reckon another few sevens and we can get back to where we left off.” That being him backing the stallion and the beast tossing him off again as had become the pattern between the two. Max stops at his office door and turns a long look over to Zen before he gives a snort, “It ain’t you, Zen. I’m over that.” Likely because…the man has a –plan- with regards to Jhath and the tricky matter of flights. Though he’s not about to tell his friend of that. Yet. And then he steps into his office and flops into his chair, giving as he does, “Close the door behind you.” Uh oh?

"I see. Good, then. Would've been bad if something didn't go right in the healing." Zen offers softly, keeping his voice rather low. "Wasn't talking about that. Was wondering if I got myself into some shit without even realizing it." Though the grin is one of amusement, even if it is slow yo form. The door is shut behind him as he steps in and brows are slowly drawn into a frown while the grin fades. "Seriously Max… What's this about?"

“Aye,” Max agrees, “Cost me a packet he did.” Stretching his legs out in front of him, hands lock together over his stomach and he sets a long and silent look onto Zen. “Maybe nothing,” he states to what trouble the bronze weyrling might be in, “Ever heard the name Vaputero out on the circuits?” Those of the dirt fighting nature they both used to frequent.

M'zen shakes his head once, moving to settle in his usual seat and leaning back. Arms are folded easily across his chest and he remains in silence. This continues, even long after and he shrugs his shoulders. "Once or twice. Whoever had me might've dealt with 'im once or twice…" Memories are none too pleasant, but even so, he considers them to place a face to a name. Or, at least find where he might've heard the name.

Max takes the reply in with a grim press of lips and then nods, satisfied that it’s unlikely that it’s his friend that the Bitran thug is after. “Good, then I reckon you got nothing to worry about.” Unlike him. And then in a complete change of topic, purposefully so, he forces a more congenial expression into place, “Heard Ahni mouthed off at one of the weyrlingmasters?” which clearly amuses the man.

M'zen gives his friend a look, a long serious look. "Is he coming?" Though it's not likely he could be taken from the Weyr. Not with Tuorth around and this thought eases the man, having him slowly relax in the seat after a moment. "Yeah. Not one of us didn't hear about it. Not that he was being too reasonable, either. Lifting those firestone sacks was a bitch for me. Can't imagine what it was like if I did't do my share of heavy lifting before then…"

He meets that look coming from Zen steadily before stating grimly, “He’s here. Or at least some of his thugs are.” Dark eyes flicker in the direction of where the tack room remains firmly locked, “Got one of them locked up.” Trying to push that all down and not lay it onto shoulders of a man without enough burdens of his own to bear, a weary chuckle spills out, “My Pa always used to say that weyrlinghood was what separated the men from the boys,” or women from the girls, “Sound like this ‘master’s a bit of an ass though. It would be like tossing someone who’s never seen a runner before onto Renegade’s back.” A total disaster. “You handling it okay though?”

"I see… I'll keep out of sight, then." Because he'll take no risks at this point. Zen glances in the direction of the tack room and grunts softly and leaves it at that. "Certainly is, some of the weaker ones aren't doing too hot with all the workouts…" A deep breath is taken before he shrugs, "respect the man, but, figure he was a little too tough that first time. Probably easy to forget that we're new to it all. It'll get better." Or so he hopes. "I'm handling it all fine. It's a matter of keeping Tuorth interested enough. He doesn't like listening to others. Frustrating, he's so… Cocky and full of it."

Nodding, Max gives simply, “Good.” Trusting Zen to do exactly as he says he will, giving the beast manager one less to worry about. Well, to worry about a little less than the others. And then he’s following the topic less fraught with stress and tension, “Would make more sense to build their strength up with the workouts first and use smaller bags for tossing than just…jump right to it. But hey,” hands lift and spread away from himself, “I’m just a beast manager,” a small grin given at the end there. A sympathetic look forms for his friend and then a low chuckle as he notes with a crooked grin, “Cocky and full of it, eh? Sounds like the kind of dragon my Ma would arrange,” if such a thing could be done, “just to pay me back for all the grief I’ve given her. You should speak to Ahni, she’s good with riddling things out. Might even have an idea of how to keep your Tuorth interested in things, aye?” Biased or simply aware of the particular skill sets the green weyrling has at her disposal?

"It would. But, maybe it was for us to get a feel of what we'd be tossing during a 'Fall… Just to get an idea at how much stronger we need to get. Shit, I'd be able to toss you when we're done." Though this is teasing to his friend, his grin growing easily into place. Zen chuckles softly, "like Andi's brother. Wanted to put my fist in his face whenever he opened his mouth… He pays attention after I repeat everything, or, sometimes he's listening in the first place… It just depends on his mood, really."

Laughter greets Zen’s comment of being able to toss him once he’s done with weyrlinghood, and his return could be taken as challenge to try and do so as he remarks with amusement lingering, “My Pa used to let me stand in when someone was off sick and he put his wing through ground drills.” More like he pitched up, shoved his way into place and refused to budge with the brownriding Weyrsecond eventually giving up and just letting the headstrong teen play ‘dragonrider’. Which might have one questioning the beast manager’s aversion now to becoming one. Max wrinkles his nose and then states with dry amusement, “So you get rid of the brother and end up with a dragon just like him? Lucky you.”

M'zen laughs, "got a head start, then. Seriously, I'll get past you." His grin grows wider as he slowly stretches out and then is pushing to his feet. "Irony right there, I swear… I'll get used to it, eventually. At least he's smart enough to listen to what I say, at least… Otherwise we'd be in big trouble." Which also would get him into far more trouble with the Weyrling Masters and leaving him with no free time in the end.

Max tips a cocky grin over to Zen, “Soon as you graduate,” he gives in a ‘bring it on’ tone of voice to the two of them going up against each other. Standing to his feet as the bronze weyrling does, the beast manager chuckles, “It’s early days yet,” sounding fairly convinced his friend is likely to butt heads with the Weyrlingmasters somewhere along the way.

"Deal. I'll be down here first thing. Then, we're getting drinks." Because he's been deprived. Of many many things. Zen snorts softly, "it is. But I'm not getting my ass into trouble if I can help it. I'm laying low. Very very low." A wave is given to the other man and then he starts on his way out, mostly for the fact that Tuorth hath demanded in the most royal of decrees.

“Loser pays,” Max gives with a smirk as he steps out of the way for Zen to pass by him. “Tsk,” the sound coming with a click of tongue for the bronze weyrling laying low, “You’re letting the side down, mate.” Whatever side that might be and then he’s lifting his hand in similar farewell before turning back to his office, his earlier brooding mood at least somewhat lightened by Zen’s visit.

Closing Credits Theme Music: My Chemical Romance - Do You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison?

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