Optimism and Its Opposite

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Tiki Lounge

As one walks onto the wood panelled flooring of the patio, they are greeted with the scent of burning oil, the likely source the various torches burning along the perimeter of the flooring. The flooring is littered with tables shaded with umbrellas, matching chairs tucked beneath when not in use.

The inside of the Tiki Lounge seems far bigger inside than outside, even when full of relaxing weyrfolk and travelers. Towards the front, in the western corner, is a small stage, generally occupied by harpers. Several tables with chairs decorate the floor and a small area is open for dancing. The bar is rather long and well stocked, glasses of different shapes and sizes hanging suspended from a rack above the bar. Behind the bar is another open window that gives one a view of the forest behind the tavern. Turning around, one is greeted by a lovely view of the lagoon. A decent breeze helps to cool the room. Up above, rafters provide a perch for fire lizards and local avians. The thatch roof, made of straw, rarely lets in any rain.

The funniest thing about life? It moves on. Dragons hatch, people Impress (some don't), and life just keeps on rolling, never batting a metaphorical eyelash, until you find yourself back at the scene of the crime. For Jonteim, the scene of that crime is the Tiki Lounge, an evening not unlike this one, with a few people drinking happily, some at the point that they might ought to be cut-off. But tonight, Jon's not behind the bar; instead, he's way on the other side from it, hammering a heavy looking nail into a post, and the dartboard on a nearby table might account for the purpose of that nail. Anyway, he looks diligent about his task.

Kyra is finally to the point where the only cast she has to wear is a thin, brightly colored one that can fit under pants and even into her boots, so that is what she is wearing when she enters the bar. She still has to limp a bit, so it's obvious she has one on, but at least it's not a giant white thing attached to her lower leg. She has on a tanktop, tucked into the pants, and a long, loose tanktop made of open-knit white thread as well, a comfortable night outfit for an island. She seems pretty eager to be out and about now that walking isn't quite as difficult as it has been, making her way over towards Jon as soon as she's inside and tilting to the side a bit to look curiously at the way he's hammering the nail into the post. In fact, he may not even realize she's there until he turns to pick up the dartboard, but that would be a totally unintentional and very accidental matter of happenstance. Ahem.

This accidental matter of happenstance is exactly what happens, and why Jonteim takes a reeling step backward immediately after he turns. What we might ought to count as lucky is that he doesn't wind up doing anything with the hammer in his hand other than letting the handle slide through his fingers, so he's holding it near the actual head instead of down at the base, lowering his arm tandem with an up-and-down look to which he subjects Kyra. "Hello, Gimpy," is the sunny-sounding greeting that he manages to drum up a moment later, tossing the hammer onto the table and taking up the dartboard like he wasn't just totally taken aback. "Off the crutches, then?"

Yes, very lucky, especially as a reflex on Jonteim's might've caused a reflex from Kyra and then they'd really have one of the most hilarious barfights ever on their hands. She does glance at it for all of half a second before she grins openly at him, "Hey, Jon. Happy to be back at Half Moon?" She helps herself to a seat, nodding her head at mention of the crutches, "Yeah, I've got this… it's some kind of thinner, more flexible cast now. It still holds everything where it needs to be, but without needing to be six pounds heavy." Kyra pokes her tongue out a little in annoyance at the very idea.

Funny as it might have been, one or both of them getting brained by a hammer might be bad for roleplay, so let's chalk that up as a happy near-miss. As for Jonteim's happiness about Half Moon… he tips his hand in a so-so gesture while he steps back from the newly hung dartboard, eyeballing it to see if it's straight or whatever. "At least I came home in one piece," he says, giving the end result of the dartboard a nod, then giving Kyra's new cast a quick glance and a dubious frown. "Dunno that I'd trust my foot to 'some kind of thinner, more flexible cast,' but hey." He shrugs. "Drink?"

Kyra props her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, watching Jonteim with the sort of interest that comes more from conversation than curiosity regarding the hoisting of games, "Did you think you wouldn't? …and it's still pretty hard, it just isn't as big and I can point my toes a little better." She shrugs at the offer of a drink, giving him another light grin as she asks, "Are you gonna still chat with me, or should I move up to the bar for that?"

"Was a possibility, wasn't it? You're not exactly good-as-new," for example. He still seems to have his doubts about her newfangled cast, evidenced when Jonteim squints at her for another moment or two, but he doesn't press his argument any further. Instead, he bats a hand in Kyra's general direction and answers, "Nah, stay off your foot. I'm done for the day." By which he means that he'll sit and chat, presumably. "What'll you have?" Because, even off-duty, he's still got the privilege of filling cups himself instead of waiting for the man behind thebar.

Kyra shrugs at the comment regarding her not coming out good as new, looking cheerful enough that she gets to hang out with Jon rather than Jon-tender, "Ah, I dunno. Just some sparkling juice? It's fizzy." She wrinkles her nose, likely meant as an indication of why she likes the fizz, and folds her arms on the table as she follows it up amusedly with, "Or whatever you think is decent. I'm guessing you've got a better idea than me, yeah?" He's the one who works bar. If he needs help hunting or fishing, she's there for him, of course. Heh.

To be honest, Jon-tender is a way nicer guy than Jonteim. The former makes his living off of tips, after all, and the latter gets to say things like, "Fizzy juice's for girls like that blonde." Which might be a compliment, if you really really REALLY think about it, but he doesn't stick around to clarify. Off he goes to get something that he thinks is decent, returning after a few minutes with beer. Because beer's what all the cool kids are drinking. One mug in front of Kyra, one at the empty chair that he soon claims, and he even offers a near-friendly, "Cheers."

Kyra isn't really sure how to take that, either, arching a brow at Jonteim and cocking her head a bit as she watches him walk off. When he comes back with beer, she just grins and laughs, "I guess this probably could've been expected. Thanks. What'd you mean about fizzy juice being for girls 'like' Briari?" She takes a sip of the beer, her nose wrinkling anyway due to the carbonation, though she adds after a moment of thought, "I like fizzy juice because it cleans the throat and isn't alcoholic, so it's good for, like, morning time, before work." That's her take on it, anyway. She'll lift her mug for his 'cheers' at least before taking a better drink and setting the mug down, propping her chin back in her free hand, "Are you upset at all about not Impressing?" Best to just be blunt about it.

Jonteim smiles enigmatically at her first question and completely fails to answer it, pretending that he's too busy drinking to voice a response. Thankfully, that also extends into further arguments about the efficacy of fizzy juice, so he doesn't regale her with any more of his so-sage opinion on the matter. And he doesn't look too terribly surprised by Kyra's blunt question; they did, after all, go through something together at Xanadu, so not discussing it would really turn it into one big white elephant in the room. Instead, he arranges his mug on the table in front of him, giving it a frown before he answers, "Nobody likes being rejected, dunno if 'upset' is the word, though. Regardless, least I didn't come home with a bum foot." So he clearly wins.

Kyra pouts a bit at having her question avoided by that enigmatic smile, making a bit of a face at him just to show that she saw that dodge. She grins a bit more wryly when he rounds out his answer with another comment on her leg, shrugging mildly and taking another drink from the mug, "That's true. I don't know, though. I guess I just don't see it as rejection myself. It's more like…" There's a long pause as she mulls through her thought, eventually coming up with, "Like when you go to a shop and they're out of something you really wanted. Yeah, it's disappointing, but it's not like it doesn't exist. You just have to wait until your stuff shows up." She closes one eye, then blushes faintly, dark skin turning darker still, "Does that make sense?"

"Makes sense, but it's wrong." Jonteim should really learn to form an opinion some day, huh? "More like going into a shop and the owner says, 'yeah, we have all this in stock, but I'm not really feeling like selling it to you, piss off.'" And he drinks to his own take on things, eyeing Kyra over the rim of his mug while she turns all red and stuff, brows drawing together in confusion over that reaction. "Embarrassed because you're being an optimist, or because your metaphor was wrong?" he guesses, completely ignoring the social mandate that says one shouldn't call attention to another person's discomfort.

Kyra rolls her eyes at him as she says, "Mildly embarrassed about whether or not I made sense. I don't think I'm wrong. I've seen it plenty of times. People don't Impress, they have a hard time with it, then bam, next Hatching, or even a couple later, they find their dragon. It's not like any dragon will do, after all. You gotta find the one that's yours." She pokes her tongue out at him for being so cynical, apparently not worried about being optimistic. She takes a long drink of her beer and twitches a slightly wry smile, hazel eyes mildly challenging, "And hey, I'm an optimist because there's not really anything stopping me, right? Bad shit happens. You either get on with life or, well, wallow forever in being sad about it. So I'm good at getting on with things." Which is probably why she snapped at Briari when she was in the infirmary and in the midst of trying to maintain a stiff upper lip.

Jonteim shakes his head, unconvinced. "Don't believe that it's about waiting for 'your' dragon. Eventually, you just float to the top of the dregs, maybe, but you're still just a swill that some other dragon wouldn't take." He shrugs afterward, as though the matter doesn't really bother him all that much, despite the fact that his opinion is clearly completely immutable, and leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms of it and lacing his fingers across his midsection. "And good on you for being all plucky about it. But don't try to pretend there's not some little part of you that's left wondering if your dragon wasn't on those Sands, that maybe, just maybe you'd be a weyrling if you hadn't broken your leg."

Kyra folds her arms on the table now, looking at him for a moment with a little frown before she points out, "It's said that if a candidate can't Stand for some reason, their dragon becomes a dud egg. That's the only thing that really bothers me. That if I was meant to have a dragon, it might've left an empty egg or something because I couldn't come get it." The idea does make her a little sad, though the fact that she didn't Impress or couldn't even Stand doesn't really seem to bother her much, "I grew up at a Weyr. Even if I never become a dragonrider, I'll be okay with that. It's not like I'm unhappy with how I am now… well, except for my leg. Either way, though, you're being too negative. That's like saying you'd marry the first girl you met just because she was the first one you met."

With a snicker, Jonteim points out, "Yeah? It's also said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." And he leans forward, looking very pointedly down at his lap, and then across at Kyra to shake his head gravely. His stomach's got nothing to do with it, obviously. There's another snicker and he argues (omg the arguing), "No, it isn't. It's like asking a dozen girls to marry you and they all say no, what's worse, they all say 'it's not you, it's me.' And if I wasn't being negative, we'd just be sitting here talking about kittens and rainbows, so don't complain."

"I thought that was his brain?" is Kyra's light quip in response, though she does tilt her head as she admits, "I'd like a kitten. Maybe. Or a canine. A canine would probably be better." One that can hunt or swim maybe. She's lost a second as she considers that particular possibility, eventually blinking rapidly before she takes another drink from the mug and decides to change tacks, seeing as Jonteim is intent on being a grump regarding dragons, "So what're you going to do now that you're back? Keep bartending? Take up a hobby? Find twelve girls to turn you down for marriage?" Sip.

Jonteim's patience with her musing about kittens and canines is obviously thin, and his fingers drum on his chest while Kyra works through her thoughts before returning, so that she's treated to a very bland stare when she gets back to any other subject except that one. "May as well stick with what you're good at, eh? You're back to falling out of trees?" he answers for his future in bartending. There's a dry chuckle for the suggestion of being rejected (AGAIN) a dozen times, but he points out, "Women are a lot easier than dragons, I've noticed."

Kyra drawls out lightly, eyelashes lowered, "Yeah, especially what with your endless and disarming charm available." She takes another drink from her beer, then scoots it away a bit so she can clasp her hands on the table, studying Jonteim quietly for a second or two. That's right, she just stares at him and ponders, eventually getting back to him with, "You do know I like to hunt and stuff, right? That's how I fell out of the tree in the first place. That's what I'm going to get back to doing once my leg heals up. That and swimming, if the sea's safe enough. You're going to talk your way out of some free jerky, Jon." Ha.

Jonteim smiles across the table, answering the lowered lashes with a long (and well-practiced) look that's probably worked to see at least a few pairs of panties hit the floor in his day. But, then, he's actually spoken to Kyra for more than the space of a drink or two, so the effect may be somewhat marred by knowing that he's actually kind of a prick. Alas. The look also evaporates entirely when he's blinking at her like she's just hit him with some big news, and he comments, "Actually, I didn't know all that. Here I thought you just went around breaking your own bones for a living. What a load off." Wiping a hand across his forehead, whew!, he snickers about the jerky and changes his 'whew' to a 'woe,' wrist to his forehead instead. "Oh please. Anything but that." Bland.

Kyra rolls her eyes at him again and snags a waitress when she passes by, "Some fried tubers, please." Once she walks away, she'll look back to Jon and take a drink from her mug, lids lowered so she can look into it, "I need something to throw at you a little bit." Finishing that swallow, she brushes her knuckle against her lips and huffs a sigh, "Hey, it's good jerky." Something seems to have distracted her, however, and she eventually puts voice to it, "Hey. I could probably go fishing without it being an issue. Want to go some time? Put those rough glass-slinging hands to use wrangling something besides half-drunken women." Bwaha.

"For starters," Jonteim begins, eyes trailing the waitress for a second ('cause, hey, waitresses in a bar are usually pretty and/or scantily clad), "have to throw you out if you get to chucking food." He counts off his point son his fingers - one, and two is coming up. "Next, you're probably better at hunting than I am, I'll grant that, but you'll just be embarrassed if we go fishing, so let's give it a miss. And lastly, I prefer them completely drunk, not just halfway there, thanks. Refill?" With a terribly merry smile, drink up silly girl, while he's leaving his chair to accomplish said refills, at least of his own.

Kyra pokes her tongue out again at Jonteim when he threatens to kick her out, "Boo." She looks after the waitress as well, though it seems largely to see if there's something besides licentious interest involved on Jon's part. She looks back to him when he starts on his second point, eyebrows lifting and a soft, amused snort leaving her, "You think so? Really? You know I grew up on this island, right? Or are you just trying to protect yourself in case a skinny little girl kicks your ass?" So there. She cheerfully smiles as he offers her a refill, of course, holding the mug over, "Yeah, sure. I've heard how trustworthy people in bars are, after all."

"Yeah, you mentioned that a time or twelve," about growing up on the island, the line delivered while he's already moving away. Very probably, the refills just had to do with following the waitress back behind the bar, since he spends more time there talking to her than he needs to, the drinks filled quickly but - look, a man's got needs. The smile that washed over Kyra like water off a duck's back does a lot better on the waitress, and Jonteim even laughs with her at something (sans the usual cynicism), before he's returning to the table with just the one mug, for the huntress, his own having been dumped in a dish bin. "Much as I'd love to stay and entertain you with my witty repartee all night, I've got plans." That he just made. "Don't drink too much." Also, that cup's been returned to her with fizzy fruit juice in it, fyi.

"Found somebody more interesting, huh?" is Kyra's still drawling response and she pushes herself to her feet, careful not to plant her weight on her broken leg, "Yeah, don't put yourself out, Jon. I'll see you later." Hey, even Kyra's got some self-respect. If Jon wants to ditch her to go bone a waitress behind the bar, she's not holding it against him, but that doesn't mean she's going to linger either. With a slight tilt of her chin towards the bar and waitress, she says amusedly, "Good luck with that witty repartee." The slim young woman will head for the door afterwards, taking her time so she's not forced to hobble and keeping a mindful thought to her leg. It would suck if she fell down and made it worse just as it's getting better.

All he can do is shrug, 'cause it's not like he can deny it. In the choice between 'girl with broken leg who wants a puppy' and 'waitress with short skirt…' Jonteim can only come up with a pleasant, "Mind your step," as a faretheewell. Because while it would suck for Kyra to fall and make it worse, he would giggle like a schoolgirl about it.

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