Returning The Favor


Max.jpg Jonavan.jpg

Date: 2011.06.23
Location: EW - Max's Quarters
Synopsis: Jonavan hearing of Evie's departure to the southern continent follows after her and has Max returning the favor of keeping an eye on his sister for him.
Rating: PG13 - Language and innuendo
Logger: Max

Early morning, just before breakfast finds Max still in his quarters looking anything but awake, he is however at least dressed. Vaputero’s presence at the Weyr is already taking a toll on the young crimelord in terms of sleep having become as elusive as Thread during a rainstorm. Waine is nowhere to be seen which means that he along with most of the other stablehands are either out on the prowl behind Vaputero and his lot, or down in the living caverns, stuffing their faces.

The few stablehands still present pose little threat to Jonavan as most know him on sight either as the horrible healer Eastern finally got rid of or, to those in the know, Max's friend. Unimpeded, he marches right up to Max's door and starts pounding his fist against it in hard, rhythmic thumps. He could try the door but no - he just keeps banging his fist, again and again and again.

Tension and lack of sleep make for one grumpy beast manager and thus, aside from nearly jumping out of his skin at that first bang on the door, Max is soon cursing up a storm as it continues. “I swear to Faranth and your mother’s tits if something isn’t on fire, dead or about to die, you fuckin’ will be!!” he roars yanking the door open. And there stands none other than…Jonavan. The man that’s supposed to be watching his daughter and Jaya. Max says nothing, just stands there with a narrow-eyed look pinned to his friend.

Jonavan has his hand up mid-bang when the door finally opens. Before dropping it, he scratches the day-old stubble on his chin. He looks tired and dissatisfied, and he doesn't flinch or otherwise acknowledge the look Max gives him. "So you ain't got klah yet, have you. That's okay - I'll take a whisky or a rum or whatever else you've got. Still night in Fort." Saying that, he tries to shoulder his way past Max into the beast manager's quarters.

My don’t they make a pair with one looking as bad as the other. “Ain’t had a piss yet,” Max snarks right back and sends a glance passed Jonavan as if expecting to see Jaya and Hope standing there. “What the fuck are you doin’ down here? It ain’t safe.” No kidding. He does however step aside as the masterhealer pushes his way in. “Lemme guess. You’re here to ask me to send ‘em somewhere else. Hope’s filled ya boots with chicken feed and Jaya’s already finished all your good booze.” A touch of sardonic humour filtering through his black mood.

"So have a piss. Sure you've got an empty bottle lying about." It's just Jonavan, as provoking as ever. He heads for where Max keeps his booze, intent upon pouring himself a drink even if Max didn't take the hint and offer himself. Just what the good people of Eastern need - Jonavan stalking the caverns later in the morning with alcohol on his breath. "Worse. Hope likes to feed that damn bird on my bed." Jaya he doesn't mention. "They're okay though, except Evie's found out and come down to do her screw with your mind thing." And my, he does not sound pleased.

All that comment earns Jonavan is the flip of a middle finger as the beast manager drags himself over to his mattress where he’d left his belt. Fitting it through the loops of his trousers his gaze tracks his friend’s move toward his stash of booze but he does nothing to stop him. Much as the idea of joining the masterhealer in a good few solid drinks and drowning his irritations in booze is appealing, the last thing he needs is to be on his ear when and if Vaputero makes a false move. Closing the buckle, a margin of amusement starts to break through for Hope feeding her pet on her godfather’s bed and then it drops right off at Jonavan’s last. “What? How the fuck did she find out?” Yeah, he’s not too thrilled about that little snippet of information either.

"Jaya," Jonavan supplies succinctly, appearing preoccupied in the choice of his liquor. He selects one of the bottles and holds it up for a look before pouring a small amount in the bottom of a glass that at least looks unused. He knocks back the shot, then refills with a healthy measure. "Says she's not going until she's sure her patient doesn't come out of it without a nervous breakdown." Jonavan puts the bottle down and turns to face Max, holding his tumbler loosely. "Can't make her leave, but I had an idea. Have you ever met Evie?"

A brow lifts and then Max utters a grunt of amusement, “Why am I not surprised?” A sigh exhales next as rubbing his hands through his hair and making it look worse rather than better he flops down into the chair behind his desk with flatly stated, “Shit.” Luckily for Jonvana, there’s a little stablehand whose job it is to clean up in the beast manager’s quarters which results in there being clean glasses for if it was left up to Max, his quarters would likely resemble those of a frat boy’s. “She might have the right idea there, mate,” he states grudgingly on Evie’s reason for heading for the Weyr, “that’s one fucked up son of a bitch that one is.” And then he tips an interested look his friend’s way when he speaks of having an idea though there’s a short shake of head given for having met his sibling, “Naw. I know she and Ahnika met up once or twice while she was down here before.” The greenrider’s name spoken with schooled indifference attached. “So what’s this plan of yours?”

"All the more reason for Evie to stay the hell away." Jonavan nurses his drink once he's had a shot to take the edge off, pulling out the chair opposite Max and facing him across the desk. Sitting, he swishes his drink back and forth, watching the ponderous play of the raisiny-gold alcohol swirling in the glass. "I think it's about time you met." Lifting his gaze to meet Max's, the healer produces a smile which, read correctly, bespeaks both dark humour and something humourless. "Stick someone on her, if you're too busy to hound her yourself. Someone annoying like Waine. Someone really really obvious. To make sure she doesn't get into any stupid situations but also infuriate the fuck out of her until she goes back to Fort."

Evie being in the south and more specifically the Weyr, was not a complication Max had been expecting. And it shows in the frown and purse of lips as he eyes that drink Jonavan is nursing with open longing. He could really do with one of those about now. Wariness, that’s what greets the suggestion that he meet the man’s sister for if there’s one profession he gives a wider berth than healers, it would have to be, mindhealers. So of course the crimelord skirts that issue and drops onto the one of putting a tail onto Evie. “Waine? You want I should put Waine onto her? He’ll have her skirts up over her head before you can Between back to the Hall.” Crass but when it comes to his womanizing second, fairly accurate.

"Even better." Surely Jonavan shouldn't look so thrilled about sticking a known playboy on his sister. He gives his glass an enticing little shake but doesn't offer it to Max. "We can tell him she plays hard-to-get and when she gives him scathing looks it really means she's head over heels." The possibility of Waine succeeding clearly never occurs to him. "You could give her a try too. Make lots of vague references to the size of runners."

Jonavan is set with a dubious look, “Aye, until it actually happens, then you’ll be gettin’ your brotherly pants all in a twist when she’s goin’ all moon-eyed over the big eejit.” There is no denying the fact that the thought does amuse him though it’s tempered with understanding of where his friend’s blithe words are coming from. When Evie is next being offered to him on a virtual silver platter, Max turns out a wry smile and then sets the masterhealer with an intent look, “You’re keepin’ an eye on the girls for me up Fort way it seems only right I do the same for you down here. But if she tries fuckin’ with my head, I’m sendin’ her back,” pausing and then adding, “with Waine.”

Jonavan's quick grin communicates agreement although his words are demonstrably different as he goes on saying the sorts of things no-one should say about one's sister. "She could probably use a lay. It's all work, work, work and no play." He tips his drink towards Max, this time in a silent cheers. "Just fuck with hers right back. Only way to do it."

Max has no siblings, female or otherwise. At least not that he’s aware of and so Jonavan’s comments of continued bad taste earn him a crooked grin in return. “She’s lucky to have a brother like you what looks out for her like that.” No drink with which to return the gesture the crimelord gives a small incline of head instead for the non-verbal thanks given. “They doin’ okay up there?” and there’s no mistaking the longing in the man’s tone though its likely to be seen as being directed at missing his daughter.

"I'm sure she'd say the same," comes Jonavan's dry response. He finishes off his drink and sets the glass on the desk. "Yeah, they're alright. Everyone thinks I'm even more of an ass for abandoning a secret family in the South that had to come after me." This, apparently, amuses Jonavan. "Say, can I get a look at this guy?" Clear, avaricious interest lights up the man's expression. Trust him to be fascinated by one of the worst criminals Pern has to offer.

There comes a grimace in response to Jonavan’s words despite how it might amuse the masterhealer, “Jays, sorry mate. I didn’t think….” Yeah, he didn’t think but then again, how was he to know how a woman and child turning up on his friend’s doorstep might look? “What? Fuck no!” that Max’s immediate response to his friend ogling the big bad Bitran from the north. “Come to think of it…maybe I should lock you and him in a room together. I reckon half a candlemark and he’ll be beggin’ for death.” Smirk.
The healer's shoulders shrug; he doesn't dwell on the rumour. At the moment, he's far more interested in meeting Vaputero. "Aw, come on," Jonavan practically begs. "It'll be fun. For me, at least."

Voices raised in banter and the scuff of sturdy workboots herald the return of the stablehands in the aisle beyond the beast manager’s quarters. “If it were up to me,” Max gives with a low chuckle as he pushes up to his feet, “I’d let you at him in a heartbeat but maybe we should give him his five minutes with that whelp of his first, aye?” For who knows what state of mind the Bitran is likely to be in after spending time in Jonavan’s company.

"Isn't it though? Has your mum still got your balls in a vice?" Jonavan exaggerates his sigh but doesn't push the point. Of course, he may still go prowling around in search of the Bitran he's not supposed to meet. Curiosity may kill him yet. He stands after Max, giving the younger man's shoulder a clap as he heads for the door. "Good to see you, mate. I'd say next time under better circumstances, but I like the way you keep things interesting."

“Up yours,” Max gives in good-natured snark to Jonavan’s comment. A quick smile greets his friend’s last, the young crimelord’s mood strangely lifted for the company of a man most find a challenge at best and mind-numbingly infuriating at his worst. “Likewise,” he states and claps the masterhealer on the back, and then with a grin notes as he steps out into the beast caverns proper with clipboard in hand to give out the duties for the day, “You ain’t see nothin’ yet.” In terms of his keeping things interesting.

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