laylia_nc

Oh, Shan.. You're down here.

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 07:51:49 GMT

Candidates wasting time, and Shanlee encouraging them to do so. Really. ;)

Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#868RIJLs)
This small cavern has the crisp smells of a recent cleaning, mingled with its more usual smells of klah, woodsmoke, and people. Baskets of glows are scattered about the room, lighting up dark corners and generally providing a cozy atmosphere. Several chairs sit at a large, round table, and more chairs are against the walls, waiting for use. A large, soft fur is spread out in front of a small stone hearth which keeps the cavern warm for its occupants.
Views: South Wing East Wing Balcony
Contents:
Niena
Shanlee
Obvious exits:
Headwoman's Office Children's Wing Dormitory Lower Caverns

Currently at High Reaches Weyr:
The evening is clear, not a cloud to be seen, giving you a perfect view of the stars. The smaller Belior winks as a waning crescent while Timor winks as a waning crescent. The strong winds howl through the bowl and the summer air feels stiflingly hot.

~~

Slumping a little in her chair, legs stretched out under the table and head going back to lean against the chairback, Shan offers a small smile and a nod to the backache being worth it. Her response is to Niena's last as she rolls a sideways look onto the candidate, "You put straw in their couches and exchange that out everyday, but they're babies really, so they sometimes have accidents?"

Niena giggles. "Babies I can understand. Thank goodness there are no dragon'sized diapers, then. Weyrwoman Satiet explained how some of the chores related to post-impression, but I hadn't thought about baby dragons and their privvy habits -- or lack thereof."

Seated at a table that captures the cool flow of air from the lower caverns below, Shan and the candidate are idly chatting. Another swallow of the fruity beverage, rum, if Niena is familiar enough with the smell of it. With a small grimace, Shan responds with, "Dragons are what I understand," not babies, definitely not babies. Brows lift upward and she once again dips her head into a nod of agreement, "Yes, Satiet's right. Everything the candidates do now as chores are in preparation for the event that they do impress."

Laylia comes from the direction of the lower caverns with something cool to drink and her hair done up in braids. Nothing frilly though, not even ribbons, just trying to keep it all out of the way and her as cool as possible. Her eye catches Shan in her slouching position, and for a moment she pauses before coming in further. A quite contented firelizard is gripping her apron, to keep herself perched on her shoulder as the redhead moves. "Oh, Shan.. You're down here." She says, though the tone doesn't imply either distress or pleasure at seeing her sister.

Niena smiles over toward the other candidate, adding a friendly "Hello." She turns her attention back to Shanlee and nods solemnly. "And I've been learning a lot that I never would have otherwise, since I went from being in the nurseries to working in them."

Its Zetia, her own green firelizard that draws attention to Laylia's presence by the excited little chitters she produces on spying her compatriot clinging to the older redhead's apron. Slowly, almost lazily, Shan turns her head enough to catch Laylia in her vision, "Yes, down here. In between duties," and the look she plants on her sister is pointed although her tone is neutral. Rolling attention back over to Niena now, "Is it a pleasant change for you, or do you pine for the carpet crawlers you've had to leave behind?" more interest than sarcastic jab there.

Laylia decidedly walks in further, despite the pointed look that's given to her. Making her way to where Niena's sitting, she asks her fellow candidate, "Mind if I join you both?" She then gives a faint smile to her sister as well, seeking a momentary peace at least in front of other people. "What're you two talking about? Niena, did you pick out one of the robes for yourself yet? It's starting to get to the ones that're harder to mend." The little gold slips from her shoulder to her lap, chittering quite happily back at the green.

Niena nods toward Laylia, even scooting over slightly. At the little gold's chitters, a tiny green head pops up from Niena's pocket, the newly awakened firelizard chirping to her sister. Niena scritches the green absently while pondering Shanlee's question. "I don't miss the crying, or the diaper changing. And it's sort of interesting being on a schedule where meals are the same time every day. I miss how warm they are when you hold them, though, and the way they smile at the littlest things. I even realized the other night how much I miss telling stories."

Quick off Shan's shoulder where she'd initially been draped about her neck, Zetia hops onto the table and over to where the little queen 'lizard perches in Laylia's lap. All sorts of conversational chirrups coming forth. Watching first the 'lizard interaction and then lifting eyes up onto her sibling, Shan arranges a suitably public smile for her, "How candidate chores relate to being a weyrling and missing what one used to do before being searched," a quick look to Niena to check she hadn't missed anything out. Almost begrudgingly a finger lifts and waves toward the other redhead's firelizard, "She's lovely by the way. Zetia likes her." Fine brows lift up high as the former nanny's firelizard pops up too, "You too? Faranth! Leave the Weyr for a night and look what happens." There's a moment, a very, very short one, where she tells of what she misses of being a nanny where the Weyrsecond might appear to be wistful, but its so quick and her words likely negate anything assumed, "The crying and diapers and I think you mentioned teething a while back? No, thanks. Got a life to live that doesn't have space for such things in it," firm.

A soft exasperated sigh escapes Laylia as the little queen starts right in with the crooning and chattering between her and the pair of greens. Lifting a hand to rub at her head, she shakes it a couple times. "Hina doesn't usually chatter this much... She likes Zetia too. Did you name yours yet?" She says, and then quirks a smile in the direction of Niena's little green before she returns attention to the other pair's faces rather than their 'lizards. "Thanks, Shan. I'm still trying to get better about oiling her and all, I forget sometimes.." She sheepishly admits, and then listens to the bit of conversation. "I'd heard the chores related to it... I guess I can see how and why, too. Though some people still skirt the ones they don't like."

Niena says "That decision was rather made for you, though, wasn't it? I mean, once Kaylith chose you, there wasn't much else you could do." If she notices Shanlee's possible wistfulness, she doesn't let on. "But that's what I'm here for, anyway. Or rather, what I'll be here for if I don't impress." Niena grins down at her green. "She's Cheri." She pronounces it as if she was born in France, not on Pern.

Laylia shoots Shanlee a look that can only be construed as what it is, a glare at the teasing slur of the new firelizard's name. "Give me a break already..." She says, and shakes her head. She rubs a finger over the little gold's back, which stops a little of the noises for a moment, only to return with more force once she stops. "That's what Suraiya said, too. That they're good practice." She says, and a warmer smile crosses her features as she looks back at Shan and the comment about shirking chores. "I'll have you know I've done all of my chores as they've been assigned to me. So, you can't even /go/ there." She insists, and then nods once to Niena before slouching some in her chair herself. "Nice name. I let Suri help me pick one for this one. It's so long I can't say it all."

Niena hurriedly assures Shanlee "I'm doing all of my chores -- just ask those muscles I never knew existed before now. Or the cooks, since their new favorite task for me is chopping onions. Are a lot of tears involved in raising young dragons, too?" She asks, half-jokingly. Still curious, she asks "So is impressing a dragon a lot like impressing a firelizard? I don't think I've ever been so happy as when Cheri was suddenly in my lap, but I also know that firelizards are mostly about food, whereas dragons actually pick who they want."

Shanlee reaches for her glass of fruit bobbed rum, "Oh fine. Hina," rolling her eyes just ever so slightly for the glare. Laughter is held in her throat as she chews on a piece of fruit and swallows, "Oh, no, 'Lia. I know better than to think it was you that was shirking. Although there's always hope," odd thing to say, but its said with an impish grin. Shrugging lightly as Zetia now toddles over to beg for a piece of rummy fruit, which she gets, "Just thought you might want to fill me in on who it is that -has- been shirking is all." Amused surprise, "You do know what her own flit and dragon's names are, aye?" on the other greenrider having named the little queen firelizard. Stopped short in her amusement by Niena's question, the greenrider simply affords her a long closed look, "Dragons find all kinds of stuff in your head to play with and comment on," another swallow of beverage and a bland smile appears, "Impressing a firelizard is less..." searching for the word, "Intense?" Straigthening and appearing almost businesslike now, "I imagine with your family being at the Weyr already they'll be coming to the hatching?" this to Niena but Laylia is included with a silent questioning brow on the subject too.

Laylia crosses her legs and pets the little lizard on her lap, which is starting to get quieter as she gets more comfortable. The chittering slows to a more reasonable tone, and she relaxes a little more. The talk about hope that she might be shirking causes her to just sigh and shake her head. "I haven't changed since last time we talked, if that's what you're getting at." She comments, and then shakes her head in response to telling who has been shirking. "Oh, Shan. I have to bunk with these people, selling them out to you isn't going to earn me any friends. Most already think I do, anyways." She says with a scrunch of her nose and then nods a couple times when asked about Suri's dragon's name and flits name. "I know their names are really long, Oz and Keo is about as far as I can get." She admits, with a light shrug of her shoulders and a glance given to Niena at the question of family. No comment is said about if anyone from Rocky Flats is coming to see, but so far there's been no mention of it in correspondence.

Niena sighs wistfully. "Ozriadasoth is such a pretty dragon, though." When asked about her family she says "Hmmmm. I imagine they might, except Sevel. He's been pouting a lot since I was searched. I mean, he's even missed opportunities to insult me." Cheri hops out of her pocket and into her lap, then curls up into a ball as she watches the other lizards.

Surprised, "You've met Ozzie?" Shan's attention back on to Niena wrinkles a small frown, "Sevel? He's your brother, aye?" snorting, "Mine came for my hatching and our father. Mother didn't of course," tone flat. Subjects of changing are bypassed for a flicker of approval that's flashed Laylia's way from the greenrider on not ratting her fellow candidates out, "Teamwork," is all she offers in return with a low chuckle and enigmatic smile over something. Nodding from behind her upraised glass, and commenting shortly thereafter, "Pretty much where I get with those names too, although Ozriadasoth is easier thanks to Kaylith." Frowning a little her sister's way when she doesn't offer comment, and a muttered, "Figures," is her only response on family and hatchings, offering, "I'll see what I can do."

Laylia remains silent as Shanlee talks, her gaze easily staying on the curled up gold that's taking up her lap and nuzzling into her apron some. Her gaze does lift when it's mentioned that their father came to see the hatching of Shan's dragon, and a small smile can be picked out. "It's just not worth ratting on a couple kids that swap their chores or pawn it off on someone who doesn't mind them. I heard B'yan did it all the time." She says, though she offers no insight as to where she got that information from at all. The last garners a faint shake of her head, "Oh, Shan, don't worry about it. You'll be there, right?" She asks, even sounding vaguely hopeful despite their last little sibling spat.

Niena nods to Shanlee. "On both counts -- I met her even before I was searched. I remembered her because I love her color so much. And Sevel is my brat brother, yes. Herrel is my nice one." Out of the blue, perhaps from watching the firelizard in the apron, she says "Oh! You asked before about the robe. I did snag one earlier today, The hem is a little frayed, but nothing I can't repair." She goes silent at the mention of the sisters' family, just watching as she is wont to do.

Her drink set down, nearly finished, and just fruit left behind, Shan's finger traces around the rim of the glass, shrugging at Laylia, "They happened to be in the area. Passing through down to the Weaverhall with the fleece, aye?" Responding to Niena before picking up the subject of chores shirked, "Maybe Sevel will come around once he sees you're still the same sister he knows and loves?" trying to offer some hope to the girl. Onto chore shirking and the bronzerider named, a smirk curls around her mouth, "There are none so dumb as those that can be bought," that's all she gives out. As the other two set to discussing candidate robes, the Weyrsecond leans back in her chair, idly sharing the rum imbued fruit between herself and Zetia. Clearly the firelizard has picked up on some of her human pet's habits. The answer to whether or not she'd be at the hatching herself left unspoken just a frail edge of a conciliatory smile offered up to her sibling briefly.

"I haven't seen Ozzie." Laylia says, picking the shortened named for Ozriadasoth rather than that long one she can barely pronounce. She falls quiet once more and nods a couple times to Shan's question, and then leans back which disturbs the happily sleeping gold 'lizard on her lap. It gets up and climbs back to her shoulder and chirrs happily, none the less. "I don't know much about him, I guess you'd know more." She says, but for all that it could be taken as an insult, her tone doesn't actually sharpen it into one entirely. She arches a brow at that conciliatory smile, and then shrugs her shoulders. "I think I ought to go rummage through the leftover robes again. The ones left after I finished my chores were all needing a fair amount of work."

Niena snorts. "Loves to annoy is more like it. I wouldn't be surprised to hear him yelling "She can't cook" at any dragon who so much as looked at me." She actually smiles at that, though. She also nods to Laylia. "Maybe someone found out theirs was too short or long and put it back."

Shanlee's return on the bronzerider and how well she might know him is simple, her tone bland, "He's a clutchmate." Standing to her feet now that the fruit is gone, the hides are gathered back up, unread. Nodding to the two candidates, "I'll leave you ladies to discuss your Sands wardrobe and bid you a goodnight," as she steps away from the table now. Zetia is left to either stay or follow as she wishes.

"Are you calling me short?" Laylia asks to Niena, a little edged in her wording though she quickly gains a smile to her features. "I'll go look, maybe you're right." She says, and gets up while the gold 'lizard is neatly perched on her shoulder again. A long look is given to Shan as she departs, though one can only guess what she's thinking about her younger sister.

"Nope" answers Niena, trotting after the other two. "But someone may have just grabbed the first good-looking robe before trying it on." Cheri is returned to the pocket, where she settles down for the walk home.

Midday Snacking

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 18:37:24 GMT

Laylia comes into the kitchen to harass the cooks for some bubblies despite the heat of the weyr being miserable... Quick scene before work... :D

A short meeting with the recordskeeper...

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 07:31:19 GMT

Laylia comes in to the Snowasis to get the coaster needed from there, runs into Jolak and chats for a little while....

Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)

Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.

Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.

Obvious exits:

Ledge Lower Caverns

Jolak

Shaggy ruffian sandy blonde hair, piercing deep ocean blue eyes, and a smile that carries a gap in the front teeth mark this cheeky youngster's first impression. His further appearances consist of ears that somewhat stick out too far from his skull and a nose that is sharp pointed with future markings for a long straight bridge. Along his wide cheek bone structure are a few freckles dotted here and there, quite obvious against the light paler skin of a lad who lives in a northern climate. Lips are thinly drawn against his face, though his chin is already beginning to extend outward and develop a strong defined point. His body seems to be as confused as a boy going through the first stages of puberty, limbs perhaps not as proportioned as they should be, making him take on a lanky awkward stance. The top of his head doesn't yet clip five feet six inches, but he's getting there, with large feet to show the promises his future height will be.

Currently he's wearing a dirty crimson tunic over a thick sleeved brown looking sweater. The tunic stretches passed his waist and is clamped there with a plain looking belt, scuffed many times with use. His trousers are a little bagger than desired by the weavers, though they give him plenty of room for movement, and yet come with the risk of tripping over them. His feet are covered in thick soled working boots, tough as nails and layered on the inside with fur to help endure the climate.

~~~

The darkness of the night is broken up in the snowasis with a trail of glows swung from ledges and upper rafters, the baskets giving a cozy glow to the place; no doubt the patrons soaking it all in with the various laughter and mutted conversation heard within the place. There's a young man off by himself at one of the tables in plain sight, kind of a loner the way he shifts in his seat as he watches a 'harper' acting out a skit with a resident who has volunteered to help play a part. People seem amused by it, and while Jolak tends to be near the crowd leaning forward to catch the words of the 'harper' ... his attention is often shifted around him, turned down only when he reminds himself of the drink he still holds.

Evening seems the best time to do what she needs to in this place, and Laylia slides in from the lower caverns without the newly impressed firelizard she'd attained from the living caverns. She had time to slip the gold off to her cot, curled up to sleep on her pillow while she tends to the other duties - or things, she needs to. There's a long look around the area before she steps in fully, her hair starting to fall out of the runnertail it was placed in and the effects of the day starting to tell on her. The 'harper' skit draws her slate blue eyes for a moment, but she only lingers on it a few moments as she goes to attain herself a drink.

As the crowd gathers around the harper and his skit, Jolak notices the crowd pushing against his chair and the laughter loud in his ears and the bodies blocking his view. A little frustrated by this, he pushes out of his seat only for it to be scooped up by an all too eager rider wanting to hear the jester the harper makes of some 'recent' occurance within the Weyr. Joe eventually finds himself heading toward the bar, falling in beside Laylia. He's oblivious though as he leans his elbows up against the bar, trying to order a drink over the heads of the stronger voiced men and women. He resorts to tapping his finger on the bar top and attempting to gain the bar keep's eye with an intense gaze of his own.

Lifting a hand to wave at the barkeep herself, even though Jolak's wriggling gets him in front of her when it comes to the barkeep's gaze, Laylia is too frazzled by the lengthy day to complain overly much about it. When they're attended to, which doesn't take too terribly long, she asks, "Can I have three fingers of brandy, and a coaster to put under the glass?" She asks, tapping at the bar, and then noting Jolak a little further. The blonde hair, and the pretty blue eyes, yes, she might have a bit of a weakness for those, even if this young man is quite... young. "I think I've seen you before, haven't I?" She asks, even if she has, though, she can't really place a name to the face at all. Might be thinking of someone else entirely.

Had the young man paid attention to who had reached the bar before him, he might've offered to order a drink for the woman instead of having a one tracked mind and ordering just one. Needless to say, when he the bar keep returns with his own drink, the ruffian hops up on a bar stool well away from the 'harper' who now has the crowd in fits of unstoppable laughter. A sandy blond brow lifts up at the amusement of the crowd, an elbow hitching back on his chair to give him a better vantage point. It is something to do with the candidates - by the prop the harper uses for a white knot on his volunteer's shoulder. An abrupt voice from his side carries his mind away from the harper and the drink floating at his lips. Cupping his drink, he considers Laylia with rapt attention, "If you've been in the records room--" he admits with a grin that flashes a characteristic gap in his foot teeth, "been down there much? I know Milani took a whole herd of fresh faces down there--" an simple indication given to her knot.

Laylia has the marks to pay for her own drink, which she offers in exchange for the cup of brandy, along with the coaster it sits on. Her gaze seems to be more on the coaster, than the young man for the moment, and her eyes even shift to take in the little performance that's going on in the other area of the room. A roll of her eyes as it's about candidates, and likely nothing she wishes to actually spend much time watching, her attention turns fully onto Jolak beside her. "Records room? Not so much, though I have poked in there from time to time to drop off things for the Weyrwoman when I had to do some errands." She says, which means - it's possible, in passing, that they've met. "I'm Laylia. Sorry, I suppose I should have offered that earlier?"

Possible. Certainly. But in a Weyr that easily houses over three hundred riders at once time and at least as many residents, it's not uncommong for Jolak to continue running across people he hasn't met before - even if he's been here as a brat since he was ten turns. He turns the rim of his mug upward as his lips smirk in a crease over the bottom of it, sipping on the rye he requested. "Is there that much entertainment going on this time?" he points a finger at the 'jester' who finally has the crowd in tears at the final act, the man's arm sweeping down as he bows toward the crowd. Jolak has to lean in closer to Laylia for her to be able to hear him over the commotion, "I work there. Recordskeeper--" he announces with a general shrug, "Joe--" he offers in return with a head nod. Finally the commotion dies off as the harper is dragged to the table and served various drinks 'bought' by his adoring fans. Joe offers a smile that only pulls at his lips, "I should've picked that trade instead of recordskeeper--" the young man thumbs at the 'harper' with a jovial gleam of his eyes.

Laylia hasn't been around the weyr for terribly long, and her memory of names now that it's getting extensive, is starting to fail now and again. "I guess I just like your eyes. I remember guys with the pretty blue eyes." She mumbles, though her attention is easily swayed towards the 'jester' that's entertaining the crowd for a long while. Lifting a hand to cover her ear as the joviality gets louder than she can truly bear. "Joe... Alright, nice to meet you." She says, then follows his thumb towards the direction of the harper again, and then returns her gaze to him. "Like standing in front of a crowd and getting a bunch of attention? That's not my thing... But, someone has to."

"My eyes?!" Jolak looks into his mug to see his wobbly liquified reflection and then peers back up at Laylia, a blink or two given to her. A grin takes the place of his stupified look an instant later, "Then I suppose I stand a better chance at being remembered!" He winks at her, lifting up his mug, "And actually, I'm better off in places that don't draw so much of a crowd. I like to concentrate and hear myself think--" he admits as his voice is loud enough for her to hear it also. "Nice to meet you too--" he flicks a hand and rolls his eyes at the harper's duties, "I guess you've got to be the right type of person. I may wish to be up there sometimes, but I certainly wouldn't have the stomach for it." He peers at the exit, "Remember my eyes then, for later. I have to get back to business before calling it a night. Have a good evening." The young man grins at her before he's sliding off the stool and meandering on his way through the crowd.

Firelizards babies galore!

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 06:17:02 GMT

Laylia comes in after chores to get some food, and finds that the firelizards Suraiya was talking about were starting to hatch. Impressions were made, Istans were upset. :)

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs)

The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Piles of summer fruit give off a shimmer of color and a waft of sweet aromas from their cradling bowls. Hanging sheaves of herbs and spices rustle in the breeze, adding their fragrance as well. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal.

Contents:
Carisandra
Sybil
Aidra
Niena
Keoahikamakaua
Sarisia
Suraiya
Jemah
Bucket o' Eggs
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns

~~~~

Gooey Brownie Egg sort of lays there among its fellow eggs, not really giving much of a shake at all.

Sybil comes striding into the living caverns, looking satisfied with herself as she pulls off her riding gloves and unbuttons her jacket, stuffing the gloves in one pocket. A quick glance around the room and she smiles. "Fort's duties to Ista", and a nod to Aidra and the bluerider, "and High Reaches." with a nod Suraiya. As she heads for the refreshment table, she spies a bucket of eggs and groans. "Is this why Palimeth was so eager to deliver the message?" she muses as she finds a seat near the commotion with a mug of hot cider.

Niena looks surprised when she hears Suraiya's tone of voice, even though the greenrider isn't talking to her. Quietly she looks to see how much meat is in the bowl, then tentatively reaches to take a piece.

Sarisia grunts at the Ista rider before reaching out and grabbing another bubbly. "Tiqueth agrees, ya know? 'Stead of wastin' your time with that," And another pointing finger is sent in the direction of Suri's belly. "You could be doin' something /useful/." She seems completely oblivious to the fact that meat has been placed in her hand and continues on. "I mean, you probably could just steal a brat from the caverns, ya know? Be less trouble. I bet they got plenty that were jus' spawned too." During this animated explanation she waves her hands around, the meat almost flying out of her hands but managing to stay grasped in it. Her talking is so loud at the point, no volume control, that she misses Sybil's greeting.

Much to Aidra's surprise, some tiny weyrbrat comes running out of the kitchens, pushing a bowl of meat scraps into her hands. Frowning after the kid -- who's inflicting the same treatment on others -- Aidra scoots her way down to the ground, folding her legs beneath her and just staring at the wriggling clutch. Inclining her head towards Sybil, Aidra flashes a grin towards the rider before twisting the bowl idly around. "Whose eggs? Some random clutch?" Found in 'Reachian weather. No? No. Eyes flick from person to person, taking in her surroundings with a great deal of curiosity.

Carisandra comes into the cavern with an air of business to attend to. Spotting the person she needs to see, she waits till she's closer. "Niena? Were you ever able to- oh." spotting the gathering around the basket, she takes a step back. "I'll wait." she adds, moving over to a table that's further back from the hearth but still close enough to see what's happening and sits down.

Laylia comes into the living cavern, innocently seeking some food for a bit of a break she has from doing cleanup, or perhaps it's sewing that she was truly attempting due to the needles that're pinned into her sleeve. She looks over at the activity with an arch of a slender brow, but for now, it doesn't appear to interest her terribly much. She's grabbing for a plate to pile up some food she can eat with her fingers.

Carmen strolls into the cavern from the lower caverns.

Carmen has arrived.

Suraiya stands up straight and crosses her arms sternly at her drunk sister. "No. No. /No/! I won't an' ya know it." She's definitely angry now. Those around get a nod as she waves a hand out towards the eggs and the bowls of meat. "They'll be hatching at any moment," she calls out to them. And just as she says this, the egg in front of her sister bursts open to allow a gooey little green out, rolling in her excitement to burst out of her egg. She doesn't take long to decide what she wants, and it's that flailing piece of meat in her twin's hands. With a creel, she stumbles, bounds, and leaps at the brownrider's fingers to clamp down on her food. And just like that, the humming grows into background noise as hatchlings decide they've waited long enough.

Sugary Sweet Cookie Egg shimmies and shakes, knocking into another egg still trying to get out beside it. Dark lines form across the simple shell before it falls away in wave upon wave to reveal a much darker contrasting hide below it of Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown Hatchling, who looks upon his previous home with a look of contempt before moving on.
He's bad, bad Leroy Brown, meanest man in the whole damn town
Badder that old King Kong and meaner that a junkyard dog
Sorrel hues of brown wrap around this broad brown in wide loops from the tip of his snout, around the barrel shape of his body, down to the end of his tail. A darker, sleazy oozing of chocolate fill in the rest of this firelizard, darkening only down his limbs to end at black wickedly sharp talons. Eye ridges and head knobs end in a sinister sharp points, complimenting the narrow eyes and his pointed muzzle. His wings are left spread out most of the time to help him look larger, so dark they almost appear like a long black cloak.

Aidra's brows arch faintly in surprise and the Istan weyrbrat shakes a tiny scrap of meat towards any firelizard -- she's not discriminating at all, and for all she cares, a grown 'lizard can get it. "Since I have this meat, might as well get rid of it," comes the girl's muttering, even as she shakes the bloody scrap in an intricate dance of 'come here and get it'. Apparently, she's given up on greeting all the natives; there's far too many of them, and only one of her.

Sybil sighs as she watches the hatchling and grins, accepting a bowl of herdbeast from one of the weyrbrats running around, and smiles around at the others gathered around the bucket. "Here we go.." she says as she starts wiggling her piece of meat, small gobbets of flesh dropping on the floor from the loosely cut scrap. She smiles politely at the people who file in, and tries to get a "Fort's duties" out to any from those places she has yet to greet.

Tzivya wanders in from the tunnel to the bowl.

Tzivya has arrived.

Slipping in at the back, a young woman pauses for a moment to look around. Satisfied at her surroundings, Carmen eyes the group of people gathered in a clump and quickly slips through the crowd of excess people to claim a spot right up front. Grey eyes take in the faces around her with cold aloofness, and there's a lift to her chin that simply screams arrogance.

Bad Bad Leroy Brown Hatchling starts shaking his limbs off of egg-goo and any shards as soon as he starts moving, his eyes whirling dark red as they look from one person to the next. And all that meat! Well... He shares a hiss with the closest of the lot, a weyrbrat that's gotten too curious before being pulled away by a nanny. He'll decide what food he wants, just give him a moment.

Niena sits quietly in the back, looking rather out of her element at the moment. She watches to see what others do for now.

Laylia takes her plate from where she was collecting food, to finally come and see what all the commotion about - as if the hissing and bowls of meat weren't completely telling. She catches Suraiya in the madness, and lifts a hand to wave to her - or is it Sarisia she's waving to? Hard to tell them apart, so she just waves at both of them. "Suri? Sari?" She asks, and finds herself a relatively close seat to the action.

Note that Aidra is sequestered a little further away from the main gaggle of people; still sitting with her legs folded beneath her, the Istan continues shaking her piece of meat. She's not -too- interested though; her eyes are constantly moving around, taking in all the new people that are gathered in such a group. Then, getting a little more into it, she croons, "C'mere!" Wiggle wiggle. Leaning her back up against a chair behind her, the girl extends her arm out a bit further.

(Tzivya) From the bowl comes a tiny figure, clad in riding jacket and gloves, and waiting until she is indoors to tug off her riding helmet. The chaos that greets her appears to be a surprise, and she stops at the edge of the chaos to watch, grinning at the earnest efforts of those playing with the meats.

Sybil gives another wiggle to the meat, mumbling "Alright, I'll try.." under her breath to no one in particular...a rather loud, tenor draconic hum breaks out from the direction of the bowl, and Sybil blushes and shakes her head and it cuts off again. "Sorry.." she says as she shrugs around to the others, and focuses on the hatchling. "Hey there.." *wiggle wiggle*

Sarisia finally realizes that there is a creature on her hand. "What's it?" She says with a hiss as she draws her hand away. But being as drunk as she is she doesn't realize that the animal has been bonded to her or that its her twins fault. "Git you." She says, shooing the creature slightly but the little green simply stares up at her with its large eyes, crooning for seconds.

Finally realizing what's going on, Carmen spies a nearby bowl of meat and snags it, doubtless leaving some old Auntie or other very, /very/ confused. Grey eyes sparkle as she watches the baby firelizards, and there's a calculating look to her as she plays with the meat, not removing it from the bowl until she sees one she /really/ likes.

Tzivya tugs off her gloves, finger by finger, while keeping an eye on the unfolding hatching - as best she can, given she can barely see over people's heads. Once her hands are free, she looks around for ways to remedy that, finally deciding to snag a chair and climb up on it. Higher vantage point claimed, she grins, idly slapping her gloves against her thigh while watching.

Bad Bad Leroy Brown Hatchling drops his head low, glaring at those people-things as he narrows his focus more to just the wiggling meat. His dark wings stretch out to dry, and he stops all of a sudden, seeing way too many of the meat to chose from.
Rummy Chocolate Truffle Egg :falls down from its upright position, starting a sort of rocking motion that sends the little egg spinning away in the sandy bucket from its other eggs, ready to burst at any moment.
She likes the free, cool wind in her hair
Life without care
She's broke, and it's *"oke"*
This little green's sleek agile body is used to all the twists and turns she performs. Bright shades of yellow-green is splashed between her short headknobs and down the smooth ridges of her back, bathing the sails of her wings as well. Her narrow muzzle is freckled with sage spots, running evenly from the tip to sweep up onto her eye ridges. Several blue streaks run across her spars and along side her belly, with parallel lines of turquoise down her tail and ending in an ocean-green spade. Her small body is well proportioned, composed of jungle greens that make the lighter shades on her back stand out drastically.

Laylia purses her lips at the bowls of meat, which are slowly dwindling her appetite to eat the food she'd picked out. She sets her plate down on the table, and then reaches for one of the bowls as well, and then looking for other people she recognizes. "Hey, Niena. You trying for one of these?" She asks, picking out a piece of meat to follow by example and hold out to the newly hatched 'lizards.

Sarisia seems confounded by the tiny creature, frowning down at her. "Strange thing." She murmurs but she finally notices how many people have gathered around Suraiya and realizes that there's a hatching. "Ah, that gold of yours finally got her spawn to 'merge?" She notes as she watches the next firelizard hatch. "Green" She says in distaste. "I'd hate to have one of those things flapping 'round."

Alas! Someone Aidra knows! Thus spying a familiar -- somewhat familiar, anyway -- face, Aidra waves towards the rider climbing atop a chair. "Greenrider!" The hand that's being waved around is also the hand clutching onto the scrap of meat, resulting in bloody bits flying about the girl's general vicinity. At a particularly loud warning, Aidra stills movement of her hand, lifting her clean one up to her mouth to cover up the 'OOPS' that would've been uttered.

Having gone to get herself a big mug of klah, Carisandra sits back down at the table that's a back from the main group but still has a good vantage point. She sits down just in time to see the tiny green hatch and grins.

Suraiya puts a hand on her sister's shoulder, squeezing it. It's not a reassuring squeeze, either. The little green had already eaten the meat she took from the brownrider and is now creeling up at her twin for more. "Ya wouldn't. Cause ya have one now." She points towards the tiny green that flops off the table to the waiting lap of Sarisia. There's another squeeze of the shoulder, and in a cold low voice the greenrider snaps. "Feed her." Don't mess with her and her babies.

Sybil whistles at the green hatchling, grinning and shaking her head, turning to focus on the brown. "Here little fella" she says, wiggling away with the meat, although it's looking a bit ragged and, yep, just fell apart, landing on some unlucky souls foot with a wet splat. Blushing, she shakes her head and picks up the scrap, not wanting to tempt the hatchling with meaty toes.

Tzivya seems unperturbed by Aidra's bloody greeting, looking down at her with a grin, that fades into a puzzled stare for a long moment. "Hi! I know you? I mean, I think I do, anyway, but if I do, then aren't you a bit far from home?" She looks back out over the sea of heads and grins. "Or are you involved in this melee?"

Niena glances over at the little green and tentatively holds out a piece of meat, watching the others still.

"Aidra, from Ista, same as you," comes the girl's rather quick answer before thumbing over her shoulder towards the inner caverns and records room. "Came here with a bluerider who had some missive to deliver." Even as she's speaking to the greenrider, the hand clutching the meat is continuously wiggled, though she's not looking at any particular 'lizard. "Semi-involved, you see?" Eyes flick to her piece of meat, and then to her bowl. "Oh. And I'm one of the weyrbrats. Probably why you wouldn't recognize me."

Bad Bad Leroy Brown Hatchling sits back on his haunches and snaps his head around. Once. Twice. And then without warning, he pounces forward towards a wiggling piece of meat, though it's not much as most of it had fallen away, so his teeth snap at the little bit that's left in Sybil's hands.
Bad Bad Leroy Brown Hatchling stumbles towards Sybil.

Content to watch in silence for the moment, Carmen rises a little to adjust her skirts when /smack/! A piece of gooey, bloody meat connects with the side of her face with a wet squelch. There's a moment where she's frozen, as if she cannot believe what's just happened, and then she slowly reaches up and swipes the mess off her face. The 'oops' catches her attention and she whips about, grey eyes glinting in fury as she stares down the two now speaking. "Watch your mess," she snaps at the girl, giving the pair one last furious look before turning sharply about to watch the rest of the proceedings.

Sybil sits back as she gathers up the brown hatchling gently, stuffing his creeling maw with scraps of meat as she does, no sudden movements and with the look of someone accustomed, she settles back from the crowd, making sure the meat she grabs from the bowl is small enough that the little guy won't choke. From the bowl is a triumphant, but slightly muted bugle.

Keoahikamakaua offers her little daughter a chirrup in greeting in between her low humming, her wings spread over the rest of the hatching eggs. Move on, gal. The Green is a Tramp Hatchling does just that, shaking off a shard of egg before leaping forward into the crowd and their wiggling meats.

Tzivya grins at Aidra and nods. "So I see, though you'd best watch the splatter before you get yourself mauled." She lifts her gaze to look over Aidra's head at Carmen, "Since it seems there is at least one hatchling with malice in it's eyes." She looks back at Aidra, "Tzviya, Feryth's rider. I was hoping to find the Weyrsecond here, as she's a friend, but with this mess going on I am thinking it's bad timing for it."

"-You- watch it," is Aidra's automatic snappish response, blue eyes flashing at Carmen and a finger daringly pointed in the other's direction. "I would've said -sorry- if you were a bit nicer about it. But now I -won't-." Thus having reached that conclusion, Aidra turns her nose up haughtily at the other before directing her attention towards the staggering hatchlings. Meat is once again wriggled while Tzivya's words slowly sink in. "Oh shards, then I shouldn't have said that, right?" Ooops. Then: "Yeah, can't find anybody in this swarm."

Laylia continues sitting somewhat close to the bucket of eggs, crossing her legs and holding out the meat. Her food gains more of her attention once again, and she reaches with the other hand for some of the finger food she's brought over with her. May as well enjoy eating something while watching firelizards hatch. People greeting eachother is somewhat ignored, though she does glance at Tzivya for a moment before returning her attention to her food.

Sarisia doesn't take kindly to being pushed around, especially not from Suri. "What'd ya say?" She asks, her senses seemingly returning to her. And after staring at her sister for a while she finally looks down to the starving creature. "That ain't mine and if it were it'd best learn to feed itself soon." She offers harshly before getting to her feet. Staring at the bowl of meat she knocks it over, though it's not certain if she did it in anger or by accident, and the recently hatched green downs the content greedily. But the ale gets to her and she has to sit back down, staring off at anyone /but/ Suraiya.

Basquirin strides into the cavern from the lower caverns.

Basquirin has arrived.

"Well, I don't think you will be winning any friends, or improving diplomatic relations, no." Tzivya replies, laughing. Apparently finding the conversaton at hand more interesting than the theatrics of feeding dead bovine to newborn dragonkin, she crouchs down on the chair with her arms arapped around her knees. "Though how you can be at a weyr and not be at least a little immune to stuff like that, I can't picture. But then, I remember when, as weyrlings, we had to cut up our food for the first time. I couldn't believe how many of the others turned green and looked ill." She digs in a pocket, and brings out a small square of cloth, offering it in Carmen's direction. "Peace offering, from Ista?"

Gooey Brownie Egg sort of sits there in the background, but if there is anyone looking closely, is might be noticed that it shudders every so often.

The distinctive smell of sweat, runners, and manure tipped those gathered around the basket of firelizard eggs that Basquirin had arrive. Between the stench of the day's work and his lack of breath, the stablehand gave the impression that he had rushed over to the living caverns as soon as his duties were done. Nodding to the people gathered, he picks up a piece of meat, hoping to entice one of the younglings as they hatched.

Suraiya is getting really angry now, and that's strange of the greenrider. More than strange, it's a whole new look for her. "Faranth, Sarisia, I don't care if I gotta beat ya over the head with that bowl an' have Keo claw ya up, but you're taking /her/." She points to the first green that hatched, who had now gorged down on the red meat that was scattered before tottering off to the brownrider she impressed to right away. With one last glare, the greenrider turns away from her twin and bounds out into the crowd. "Babies!" she calls, completely bubbly again with a grin, though if one looks closely it's a bit strained. "Niena, Laylia an'..." She can't remember the other candidate's name, but she's given a pout. "Why not you? Get meat and shove it at those 'lizards!"

Gooey Brownie Egg is so dark that it is not a surprise that people have been missing some of the slender little cracks forming along the sides of this egg. It had not been moving around much, but the firelizard is as determined to come out and play as much as its clutchsiblings. As the pieces finally fall away, a metallic hide is replaced until the only thing that is left is My Way Bronze Hatchling.
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way
A molten bronze vortex covers the firelizard entirely; though small, the colors appear to blaze over his form to create a larger figure. Regal head is proudly displayed with a rainbow of colors that appears on his forehead, running down between his headknobs to just behind his head. The light that reflects off his metallic hide presents a shattering of prismatic patterns over the crown. Leonine, sleek body is elongated all the way to the tip of tail, whose spade is dipped in an inky black. Feeble legs-- though strong with inner strength-- dangle almost uselessly from the lithe body, covered in a smoky haze that is reflected as well in the broad wings over his back.

Determined to ignore someone she's termed beneath her, Carmen focuses instead on the strange rocking coming from that Gooey Brownie Egg. So it is that Tzivya's offer takes her by surprise and she stares down her nose in distaste at the cloth. "What would I do with a ragg--" she looks up to the rider's face and catches sight of her knot. Instantly the derision is gone, replaced by smooth--if a bit oily--delight and geniality. "Of course, thank you kindly, greenrider." She dips her head and takes the offered cloth, wiping the remnants of blood from her face before folding it so the filth is hidden and handing it back to Tzivya. Then the rocking of the egg that had caught her eye so makes her turn and gasp at the little bronze the emerges. Only now will she take the meat from her bowl and dangle it down on level with the little regal beauty.

Aidra just 'ugh's at the peace offering, wrinkling her nose at it before shrugging her shoulders. Propping her arm up on a knee in order to better continue wriggling the meat around, Aidra replies, "Yeah, well sometimes my temper gets the better of me. That's why I'm stuck in the garden, because I like that a lot better." Flowers are definately better than the mass majority of people. "Many of them were holdbred, maybe?" Wriggle, wriggle. One would think that the meat that Aidra's offering would have no more to drip -- it does, though, and continues to make splatters all over the ground. Luckily, there's -fresh- pieces in her bowl. The bronze's hatching is missed, since Aidra's currently staring at the little puddle of goo on the floor. Nice. Then, Carmen's 180 in personality is given another 'ugh' though this one is a bit louder. Suck-up.

Basquirin smiles as he realizes the greatness of his timing. "A bronze," he mutters under his breath, as if talking to nobody in particular. Although he has already been in the room for a few moments, the stablehand has yet to pick up on any of the conversations that were going on around him. He concentrates on reaching his arm forward, dangling the slab of meat enticingly at the newly hatched 'lizard.

After gorging on meat the little green grows weary and finally walks over to Sari's lap. Staring down at the firelizard she grabs it up, not too roughly, and stuff it into her jacket pocket and without another words leaves the cavern.

"Oh, well, there's your problem!" Tzivya says, clearly amused. "Never saw a point to having a temper. Only really ever known one or two people who could annoy me to that level, and frankly," She looks over at Carmen, "She's no Fadra. Which begs the question of who she /is/." She raises her voice some. "You have a name, or should we jus call you Little Miss Cranky-Pants for today?"

"Are you alright, Suraiya?" Laylia asks, appearing fairly concerned for the expression the greenrider had before she got all bubbly again about the firelizards. She apparently isn't too caught up in the hatching so far, food in one hand for herself and a piece of meat tentatively held in her other towards the bucket of eggs. Yes, because eggs really want it.

Sybil excuses herself, bundling the little brown into her riding jacket as she stands. Thankfully, his full belly means he's sleeping already, and she fastens the coat together so that he is secure and safe, and more importantly warm enough to head back to Fort as she slips back out into the bowl.

Carisandra watches Sybil feeding her little brown, eyes darting back to the little green. She tries to make herself small when Suraiya tells everyone to take a bowl of meat for a fire lizard while trying to keep an eye on the eggs that are hatching. Those eyes widen when she hears Tzivya speaking to- that other woman who got so upset. She doesn't notice the little bronze hatch.

My Way Bronze Hatchling :stretches each limb out individually, opening his maw in a wide yawn before his whirling eyes turn up towards his momma-gold. He chirps a test, voice a little raw still, and he tries a creel instead. Keo hums back, jerks her head to the food, and turns her attention back on those rocking eggs that are yet to hatch.
The Green is a Tramp Hatchling sort of roams around for a bit, actually not looking quite interested in any of the meat, until she drags her wet little body towards a girl with some wiggling meats. She creels once, and looks up towards Niena, cocking her head curiously before stepping up to her.
The Green is a Tramp Hatchling stumbles towards Niena.

Niena looks down, stunned, at the little green reaching out, as she has been all night, tentatively to touch her.

"Carmen," she answers primly--offended by the nickname but determined not to show it. "My name is Carmen." She glances once to Aidra and smirks at her obvious distaste before offering Tzivya a somewhat more appetizing smile. But people can't hold her attention long, it's the flitters she's here to see now, and that little bronze bears watching. The meat dangling from her hand is wriggled a bit more, but the saucy brunette is careful to drip as little as possible.

"Problem, maybe," comes Aidra's musings; the meat in her hand stills, and the little weyrbrat just peers up at the greenrider, dainty brows arching. Now that Tzivya's asked the other her name, Aidra just remains still, though her eyes roam the hatchlings running around. Hand resumes its wriggling, the meat dancing from side to side in an intricate dance, while Aidra just waits. Once smirked at, she returns the favor. While Carmen tries not to drip, Aidra doesn't. Just look at that puddle.

Suraiya turns her blue eyes up, a brief frown marring her features again as she watches her sister's departure. "Just fine," she says back to Laylia, looking down at the candidate. She goes over to the table to grab a handful of the meat, trailing back. To those from high reaches, especially those candidates, she drops a bit of meat in front of them and then moves to stand up on a chair, making sure to keep some distance from the eggs but still in clear sight of them.

Tzivya remains crouched on the chair, hugging her legs and clearly enjoying herself more playing with the women near her than the hatching. "Carmen. Interesting, that. You a local, then? Don't know many people from High Reaches, but more than a few of them seem to mirror a certain... Frigidity." She slides her gaze to Aidra, and wrinkles her nose a bit. "Aidra, dear, can you put a bowl under that or something? It's rude to leave puddles of blood in other people's homes."

Banana Flambe Egg starts a hopping action, very eager to get out of its shell. It nearly surprises Keo, seeing that it was just sitting there this entire time like the rest of the eggs.

"Oh, shards, Suraiya... What could I possibly need this much meat for?" Laylia asks, and considering she's holding one piece of meat out - she assumes that's plenty. She sighs a little, and then takes a bite out of the food she's brought over with her. A moment later, she realizes there's a little green happily eating what Niena offers her. "Hey, that's a cute little green you got there." She says to her warmly, and then wiggles the bit of food she has towards the eggs and presumably the hatchlings also.

Niena nods happily over toward Laylia. "Good luck! It's quite an experience."

"I'm from Bitra Hold," Carmen answers sweetly, distracted from the teasing nature of the remark--as well as Aidra's return smirk--by the sudden and rather violent rocking of that banana egg. A soft snicker can be heard by those closest to her though, as the greenrider scolds the other girl for her bloody mess--literally.

Since she's asked so nicely, Aidra obliges, sliding a bowl under the dripping piece of meat, goblets and drops falling conveniently back where it came from. "No problem, Tzivya," comes the girl's delightfully pleasant murmur, contrary to the attitude displayed to Carmen. Lapsing into silence, Aidra continues to brace her arm upon an uplifted knee, shaking the meat around, all tempting-like. Carmen is pointedly ignored, since Aidra has -also- noticed the banana egg rocking.

"Oh, well, that explains everything!" Tzivya says, a triumphant note in her voice. "I mean, where else would you be from?" Aidra gets an approving smile, "Thank you. Wouldn't want to think Istans were rude and messy." Still, she seems to realise that competing with the lizards for attention is a losing gambit, and she settles back more in the chair to watch the pair and see what unfolds.

My Way Bronze Hatchling stalks the crowds for a little while until he finally decides to take the plunge, making sure its when his dam's loud squawking has finally stopped. He goes into a charge, buiding up speed until he strikes at his target, and that's Aidra's wiggling meat, putting an end to all that shaking.
My Way Bronze Hatchling stumbles towards Aidra.

For a brief second, a grimace appears on Basquirin's face. The stablehand does a double-take, trying to conspicuously sniff his armpits. He mutters an oath under his breath, and although he keeps his slab of meat dangling towards the eggs, his gaze averts towards a tunnel leading out of the living caverns. His gaze returns to the eggs, and his face lights up as he specifically recognizes one of the others gathered. The stablehand gives a brief sigh, watching the bronze pass of his meat for someone else, before he spoke. "Hey, Caris."

Oh! Maybe you need a lil' firelizard to show you how it's like, first?

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 09:24:01 GMT

Laylia gets cleaned up from mucking stables and searches for sweets in the kitchens before bed, spending a fair amount of time chatting with Suraiya.

Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr
The kitchens of High Reaches Weyr are contemporary, spare and simple in design, free of clutter. The sleek surfaces are a hallmark of the current Pernese style - polished marble and granite, metalwork, and woods. The background colors of the kitchen are light and neutral, allowing for bold tone accessories to take center stage. The lighting and entryway opening treatments are low-profile and minimalist. The hearths have been fitted with modern equipment and simple, sleek metalwork to add an up-to-date touch to the heavily used areas.
The polished granite counters are long and wide, allowing for ample work space. The woodwork is lightly stained, bringing out the natural hues in the grain. A simple cording, in the same bold color as the accessories, borders each cabinet door, accenting the room. Two large islands break up the kitchen into work areas: baking center, butchery, vegetable and side center, and the serving organization center. The floor is tiled with large marble squares, each section carrying a different, yet complimentary color to direct the flow of traffic. The entryway into the living cavern has been expanded to fit two doors - in and out - each marked with its own identifying color that matches the tiles just inside the doors, to keep collisions from occurring. The cavern itself has been expanded to include breakfast nooks, where residents can sit to eat, while leaving the main kitchen free from tables and the traffic that accompanies a busy Weyr.
Contents:
Suraiya
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns Living Cavern

Suraiya

         Fair skinned, reddish-blonde, and tall are the first things seen on this young woman. Another quick feature to spot is the fact that a woman she is. Her tall frame is slender, not too overly slim, and well endowed; her curves matching almost proportionally even at a young age. Her oval face is smooth-skinned and unblemished, with not one freckle marking it. A small round childish nose contrasts with the girl's icy almond-shaped eyes and full lips. Strawberry blonde locks have just passed her shoulders, cut into layers with the shortest strands cupping around her chin.
         Suraiya's long legs are covered with rough hide trousers, lined with a bit of burdenbeast fur for the colder days of High Reaches Weyr, and left to its natural tawny coloring. Her leathers look worn in, several stains finding their way onto them. Her upper half is decorated with a brighter blue skin-tight shirt under a trouser-matching jacket of tan leather. Her ensemble is finished off with mid-calf black boots and a shoulder knot of black and blue with an added green thread signifying herself as a High Reaches Rider to a green lifemate.
         She looks around the age of 26 Turns, 7 months, and 0 days.
Carrying:
Keoahikamakaua

~~~

Suraiya has been there for awhile, by the looks of her work area. She had taken a whole counter for herself in the baking section of the kitcher, where flour has couted nearly every inch of it... and herself. She's licking at some dough from a spoon while staring intently at a recently batch of sugar cookies. Next to those are a less recent tray of fruit tarts that look cooled and ready to eat-- for whom? Well, that has yet to be decided.

Having recently come from the bathing rooms, Laylia has still damp hair which hangs limply around her shoulders and is leaving drip marks down her back. Hands well scrubbed, she's come to the kitchen seeking some evening snacks to make the hard long day seem a little sweeter. The cooked tarts are eyed, but since Suraiya is closeby them, she asks, "Are these yours? Or are you just baking the cookies?"

Suraiya is mid slurping the spoon, her tongue out as her blue eyes catch the younger woman. She pauses a moment, then continues to take the rest of the dough off before placing it in a bowl filled with water already. "They're everyone's. Well, /I/ made 'em, but I don't know what to do with 'em, really." She giggles and then shrugs her shoulder. "Feel free and try them out." She hops onto a stool and leers at the candidate with a wide grin. "And the cookies, too."

Laylia likely isn't much younger, nothing like the teenagers that're running around the weyr with candidate knots. She tugs at a stool to pull it closer to the counter, and settles on it. "I'd have one, for sure. Why're you making them? Just trying to work out things on your mind or something? That's what my mother says she does when she's thinking. I usually sew." She admits, reaching for one of the tarts to sniff at it first before taking a bite - her expression broadening into a smile at the taste.

Suraiya plucks one of the cookies from her pile and then quickly shuffles it between her hands, obviously a bit hot still. "You're mum's right. Well, not entirely. I like cookies... an' treats, an' good stuff." She pops the cookie into her mouth, chews, swallows, and then giggles again. "My mum's a Baker. She bakes to make people happy. An' then so do I, most of the time." She watches the candidate intensely, only to grin toothy when she seems to like the tart. "Good?"

Laylia watches the display of hot potato as she finishes chewing and swallowing the bit of tart she's tried. "Mmm, yes. I guess your mother taught you well, then?" She asks, and then snickers a little herself. "Baking can make someone feel good. Good food, makes for good feelings. I guess that's why they say you can entice men with their stomachs. I'm Laylia, by the way. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself before I started eating your baking."

Suraiya takes another cookie, this time blowing at it before taking a smaller nibble. "Not really," she answers, staring at the treat in her hand with a shy smile. "Sari used to get sick turns 'go when I started experimenting. I guess after so many bad recipes, an' finally following some correctly, I made something decent. Well, not that I hadn't before..." she shrugs a shoulder. "I /have/ been perfecting mum's secret bubblies." And then, realizing that she's rambled a bit, she turns her blue eyes back to the other woman. "Oh? Laylia? 'm Sari-- Suri, sorry. Suri."

Laylia finishes off the tart, since it's fairly small and she's rather hungry. She waits until her mouth is empty before saying anything, which gives her more than adequate time to listen to what's being told to her. "I'd like to try those bubblies. Is Sari your sister, then? Or... I think I'm a little confused." She admits, her gaze falling to the sugar cookies next, but she keeps her hand to herself for the moment.

Suraiya finishes her own cookie and then, instead of reaching for a third, which was the very likely thing to do, she pushes the whole try towards the candidate right beside the tarts. "I haven't made 'em in awhile. Maybe I'll get some out 'fore the eggs pop." She nods her chin out towards the caverns, so whether she means the lizard or dragon ones, who knows. "Sari's me. Well, Sari's my twin. She looks like me. But she's not too fond of the sweets an' all so you can definitely tell the difference between us." Her grin is a bit more strained as she looks to her food and then at the candidate. "Well met, by the way, Laylia. Please, eat up. I don' know why I baked 'em so late. They'll probably be real bad tomorrow." She drops from the stool, this time to start moving the dirty supplies around.

"Which eggs pop? Aren't there eggs in the living cavern, too? I guess the eggs on the sands have hardened enough that we're allowed to touch them once in a while, but.." Laylia considers this, and the tray that's shoved towards her. A cookie is reached for, and inspected before being bitten into with a soft pleased sound escaping her. Surely, she's enjoying all this offered evening food. But, something she says has the redhead just staring at Suraiya like she's grown two heads. "You're Sari, and she's Sari. Is this twin of yours in your head, or... Shards, now I'm really confused. At least my none of my sisters are my twins."

Suraiya waves a seperate mixing spoon that looks relatively clean in the general direction of the caverns. "Both. All of 'em. I thought Keo's eggs would have hatched by now, but I bet it's cause she's stubborn to let 'em go." She stops her work again, staring into a clear bowl. One that most likely was set out on the side to be used. She blinks a few times before turning back to Laylia with an arched brow. "In my head? Faranth, I hope not. She's probably in her weyr, or somewhere. I heard she was over in Telgar too earlier with L'ian. Both ran into a flight, so I bet she's pretty mad..." She sighs and decides that sitting on the stool is the best idea. "Sisters? Do I know any of 'em?"

"Those eggs are your firelizard's in the living cavern? I didn't know whose they were." Laylia comments, glancing in the direction of the living cavern before resettling her slate blue gaze on Suraiya, or perhaps the spoon that was pointed in the direction she was looking. "L'ian and her ran into a flight? Huh, I wonder if either of them won or not - that is the right term, right? Won." She says, not quite sure but guessing it's probably likely. Truly a hold girl, she's not put much thought into such things. "Oh, you probably do. But, don't go thinking I'm like /her/. Shanlee's completely different from me."

Suraiya bobs her head quickly, though she stops almost immediately and puts a hand to her head. It doesn't stop her grin from forming, though. "Absolutely! I found my little gold, Keoahikamakaua, with her lil' clutch. Really cute eggs, aren't they?" She brandishes the spoon about now, drawing a path in the air and following it with her eyes. "Both were running some errand or 'nother, who knows, I forget, an' then there's a green all a-glowin! Can't resist, ya know?" She winks at the candidate and shares a toothy grin with her. "Won, caught, same thing. An' neither did, cause L'ian called me over or, well, I showed up to comfort 'im." Giggle. "An' Sari's shut herself away, which means she's in a bad mood." Which, technically, didn't mean she lost, but who actually knows that? "Shanlee? Hmm... maybe you'll be like her when ya Impress a shiny little green, like your sis."

Laylia blinks a couple times and stares at Suraiya once more, which is slowly becoming a habit. "Keo..haha.." She gives up on trying to even pronounce the gold's name with a shrug. "They're alright. I've seen more firelizards here than I ever saw at home. I'm sure they'll hatch and get good new owners. She blushes quite vividly at the comment about L'ian asking her over, or her showing up to comfort him - either way, it's apparently too much information for her. "He's the one who wants a big family, yes? Blue eyes, very pretty, but scary thinking about any man who wants fourteen kids." She admits and then shakes her head. "Oh, no. I hope I don't impress any green like my sister. I wouldn't want to..." She pauses, and just keeps quiet for a long moment before adding, "Nevermind. I've been trying to do some thinking about all that standing on the sands. What I'd do, either way."

"Keoahikamakaua," Suri says again, clearly, and possibly even faster than before. "They're all great to have 'round. I'd keep all the lil' eggs myself, but I guess that's just mean.. Plus, I don't have that kind of time to bother with 'em. An' Ozzy, that's /my/ green," she nods quickly to the candidate, realizing she forgot to introduce her lifemate. "Ozriadasoth," she informs the young woman, almost as fast as her firelizard's name. "She loves 'em. Maybe that's why there's so any 'round, cause a lot of dragons like 'em." She doesn't realize that she's starting to ramble again, and the new topic on her current bronzerider is given a quick nod. "He has one already, an' more along the way if I have anything to do with it." She pats her belly and winks again. Suri: baby factory. But then she listens to the candidate, and her smile fades slowly. "About it? You stand... Why, having cold feet?"

Laylia doesn't even try to say the name again, it's completely hopeless to her. She just finishes off the sugar cookie she was working on and then wipes her hands together to get rid of the crumbs from them. "Shards, you got real challenging names for your firelizard and your dragon. How strange." She snickers a little, and sighs softly, "I, oh.. He didn't say he was with anyone when I met him in the Snowasis. That's good though, if you're willing to give him what he wants." she comments, arching a brow but then just shaking her head a couple times. The question about her feet being cold causes her to shrug her shoulders. "My sister and I argued about it a little the other night. She doesn't think I understand what I'm walking into, and she's probably right even if I don't want to admit it."

Suraiya giggles at the compliment, because that's how she takes it. "It's not like I named my dragon. Ozzy's that way, and she did help with Keo's name." She shrugs her shoulder, obviously not too bothered with the fact that the bronzerider didn't say anything about the two of them. "We probably weren't. Or aren't. 'M not sure. All I know is that 'm having a baby." Well, she hopes, and she looks a bit worried about that, playing with the hem of her jacket. As she listens to the girl, she finally switches towards her more serious side, which isn't much of a difference. Her smile fades a bit, more thoughtful, and she tilts her head as she studies the girl. "Hold bred, right? Well, I think even us that were born an' raised in the Weyrs didn't really know what we'll get ourselves into. The dragons saw something, an' you just can't go and insult them by saying no-- well, you can, an' they probably wouldn't feel /that/ bad, but wouldn't you regret it?" In other words: Stand, when you're asked, and don't think about it.

"It's just such a strange set of names. I guess... if you have nicknames, it's not so terrible." Laylia admits, nudging around another cookie with a fingertip before decidedly just picking it up to take a bite out of it. Her last, she promises herself. She gives Suraiya another one of those looks like she's growing another head, then shakes her own. "I don't understand that, you just want a kid and any guy will do, or..." She looks at Suraiya as though expecting her to finish the thought, or admit that her assumption was right. "Yes, hold bred, like Shanlee was before she came here and started.. Oh, nevermind." She quips and then purses her lips slightly. "I didn't want to say no to being asked. I certainly wasn't expecting it, and since I'daur asked..." She pauses, and then shrugs her shoulders. "I.. just don't know what I'm expecting. B'yan says it's a horrible experience, Shanlee says I shouldn't even have said yes at all. It's hard to be confident like that."

Suraiya shrugs both her shoulders helplessly. "It's Ozzy an' Keo, but it's not too difficult to say Ozriadasoth and Keoahikamakaua." And she proves it, not stumbling once on any of the syllables. She raises a hand and waggles it towards the candidate, looking away with a secretive smile. "Not /any/ guy. 'Course not. L'ian's a good choice for many reasons. If I'd take any guy, I would've had a kid long 'go." And then she starts ticking some points off on her fingers. "He's a bronzer." Check. "A good guy, wants kids, an' I want to make sure my kids have a father to look up to. A /good/ dad," she stresses with a bob. "That's a bronzerider." Because they seem to be linked up together. And then moving away from her, she drops her hands to her lap and frowns at the other woman. "A horrible experience? You're finding your /perfect/ match on the sands. The one being that will be with you, always, an' you'll never be 'lone. I think it's absolutely amazing. Can't be missed. It can be tough being a rider sometimes, but your dragon will make up for it."

Despite how easily Suraiya says those names, Laylia still doesn't even bother to attempt the full names. And she probably never will. She furrows her brows as she listens to Suraiya's reasoning, "Bronzeriders aren't all that great, there's a lot of them that've got their heads completely up their rear." She quips, having at /least/ one in mind, if not two or three she's encountered since she's arrived here. She just shrugs her shoulders and adds, "It's good that you want to give him some kids, I suppose. It's what he wants, and if it's what you want, I guess it works out... in some strange way. But, not going to weyrmate him or anything?" She asks, as if it were any of her business in the least what the greenrider does with her life. "B'yan said it was like someone hitting him with a shovel, said he was complete before he stood and he's complete after, and that sometimes it certainly isn't what he wanted. I'm not eager, like a lot of the candidates, shards, I'm old enough to have a few of them as my kids, nearly. It feels so strange."

Suraiya laughs lightly at the way the candidate put it. "Well, /most/ bronzers can be great. But I haven't really met one I /really/ don't like." Mental note: haven't met /anyone/ she really doesn't like. Ever. "My da can be like that, too. Never once went to see mum 'gain, 'less they ran into each other, but well, it happens." She giggles it off, waving that spoon again. "Weyrmates? Who knows. He /does/ have a really big weyr, though," she muses, more to herself. Her grin falters again, but this time it stays put. "Well, it's different for everyone. Even the experience of candidacy, if you don't Impress, will still mean something to you afterwards. Everyone's got a right to be nervous, afterall, but don't worry. It /always/ works out in the end. /I/ thought I was going to Impress in my nice sunny Ista. To a bronze-- well, that was turns 'go."

"Have you met N'thei?" Laylia quips, wondering if there's anyone who doesn't find him despicable. Surely, she must think he's completely horrid. She then purses her lips, and then adds, "But, I'daur rides a bronze too, doesn't he? I didn't even see his dragon the night he searched me. Right after a 'fall, too. Talk about bad timing to ask after I saw all the carnage." She says with a shudder and then a shrug. She makes no comment about how big L'ian's weyr is, as she's never seen it herself. "I was Searched once before, and didn't Impress, I can't see that it'll be too much different this time around. The more I think about it, the more I'm wondering if I should have said no. If I did somehow walk off the sands with a dragon, I'd have to live here with my sister lording over me. She'd love every minute of it."

"The Weyrleader?" Suraiya asks with a wrinkle of her brow. "I-I think so. I mean, the name definitely sounds familiar. But probably not as well as you, or someone else, apparently." She smirks at the Weyrlingmaster's name. "He's drunk all the time so I can't blame 'im, either. 'nyways, I have Sari to deal with, an' /she/ is always mean. 'Least, to me." She sighs and droops her shoulders, setting the spoon aside now. "Me too. Sari an' I, we stood once before we got Searched here, so maybe it'll be your luck, too, that gets you the dragon at 'Reaches? An' having your sister around isn't so bad." Speaking from experience. "But..." She bites on her lower lip. "If you /really/ want to say no, no one's forcing you to stand. I'll jus' say that it's the best experience you can ever have, and you could regret it afterwards. Oh! Maybe you need a lil' firelizard to show you how it's like, first?" And she's back with that silly grin, raising a brow in question.

"Yes, the Weyrleader who seems to think he's all mighty." Laylia says and scrunches her nose a little as she adds, "And some gift to women." She leans back a little, as much as the stool will allow without her ending up on the floor. "I like I'daur, even if he does drink a lot." She admits, as much as any hold girl will admit she likes any man, quite possibly. She mulls over the last, and shakes her head, "I don't want to regret it, and that's partly why I said yes. And because I'm curious. Not because I'm all gooey eyed looking at dragons and wishing I was riding one, like some of the candidates are. Which makes me feel a little bad, you know? What if I walk off with a dragon that they really wanted? I don't know about firelizards, if I'm around when they hatch, maybe I'll wiggle some food at them."

Suraiya doesn't comment on what the candidate thinks of the Weyrleader, which is probably more facts than opinions. She raises a brow, is all, looking a bit surprised by this. She must have either been oblivious to any advances, if she was around him long enough, or she just had never really beed in the same room for an extended period of time with the Weyrleader. "It doesn't matter whether a candidate sees a dragon on the sands and say they want it. They're not like 'lizards," Suri finally comments on something, and she's looking a bit more serious about it. Her brows are drawn a bit closer together. "There's no reason to feel bad when you find your lifemate on the sands. Haven't you heard of dragons hatchlings that go :between: because they /didn't/ find their match? It's happened in the past. Not really often at all. That's why there's double the candidates. If you find your dragon, it's very unlikely she would be anyone else's." But commenting on the firelizards, she bobs her head. "You better. If I see you there, I'll make sure you're covered in wherry bits for 'em."

Laylia certainly isn't going to talk about N'thei long, for as soon as the subject gets skirted around it's dropped like a brick on the floor. She just listens to Suraiya and then blinks a couple times at the suggestion of a hatchling going :between: after a hatching and them not finding their mate. "Don't they have to get in the air to do that? I don't know how it works, obviously." She says, and frowns a bit. "I'd hate to be responsible for that sort of thing, for sure. I will Stand, and will see what happens. Like I said, I'm curious, and a little anxious for it all to be over with already." She admits, and then snickers a little. "No, please. I don't really like touching wherry bits as it is, let along being /covered/ in them. How much longer until you think they're going to, anyways? Can anyone even tell?"

And Suraiya already forgot that they were talking about N'thei, so it didn't really matter. "They don't really have to. Dragons that are really hurt after a threadfall have been known to jus' :between: on the ground, or so.. I've never /seen/ it, jus' been told 'bout it. I think it happened when Thread first started falling 'gain all of a sudden a few turns back, y'know? One rider here in Reaches got seriously wounded, and the dragon disappeared right there." She sighs and shrugs, getting put down by the somber discussion. "But anyways, the point is, is that it /won't/ happen. Cause you'll be on the sands." Firm nod. She turns back towards the caverns, a bit confused in the direction the conversation keeps moving from her eggs to the dragon eggs. "Keo's? Or Teonath's?"

Laylia just listens and frowns as the conversation turns rather morbid - and to a subject she really doesn't want to think about before going out and standing on the sands as dragon bait. "I didn't know that... though I did see some of the injured getting taken to the infirmary." She admits, and then frowns a little more with a nod. "Yes, I'll be out there. If my lifemate's shelled out there, I'm sure I'll manage through it somehow." She says, and then points off to the direction of the living caverns. "Keo's. I know that dragonhealers can sometimes somewhat predict when a dragon clutch is going to hatch but I'm not sure about firelizards at all. I guess you wouldn't know too easy, because you found them after they were clutched, huh?"

Suraiya cannot suppress the shudder at the mention of that hellish place where those demon-Healers crawl and live. "Yah... it happens." She allows that to sort of sink in for awhile before continuing with trying to lighten up the mood, her smile slowly returning as she shifts on her stool, poking at some of the cookies around with a finger as if counting them. "That's good. Stand, see how it goes. You'll see. No regrets." And then she follows her direction towards the living caverns before giggling. "Oh. Well, they /seemed/ hard to me when I picked 'em up. But you never know. She's awfully protective of 'em now with all the weyrfolk 'bout, so I can't check. Can't be long now, though. Maybe a sevenday? Definitely sooner than the dragon eggs."

Laylia snickers a little at her reaction when the infirmary is mentioned, herself having a somewhat similar reaction but more due to the gore and such that's usually found within. "Unfortunately." She adds, and then snags another cookie while she counts to make her lose track - or at least make it so it's more difficult to count with disappearing cookies. "Before the eggs? Could you imagine if a bunch of them ended up with the candidates? Does that happen? Seems like it'd be a lot to deal with, if one of those candidates Impressed a dragon too."

Suraiya lost count long before the candidate took the cookie, and she turns her eyes down as she focuses on the diminishing pile. But she can only grin happily as her cookies are devoured. "Oh, it's happened," she returns her look back up to the woman. "I think we had a candidacy where there were some eggs that hatched, too. I think that's when I Impressed Keo. Some ended up with 'em, too. 'Lizards can fly nearly right after their wings are dry, an' they might be a bit of a handful but can generally take care of themselves within no time. So it'll only be a /bit/ stressful." She chuckles at the idea of weyrlings with day old lizards.

Laylia has only had two cookies, and a tart, and... perhaps thinking about taking a few more on her way out the door to share with her scavenger hunt teammates. "Really? I guess I didn't know that either. You've taught me quite a bit tonight. Well, if I'm around maybe I'll try and coax one over to me. I heard that's how it works anyways, with food and other treats they like." She considers, and then points at the cookies. "Mind if I take a couple with me to the barracks? Lujayn and Jaeni probably would be a little jealous if I didn't bring them any."

"Trust me, you'll be learning lots more when you Impress." Suraiya sage-nods to that fact, whether it was one of her firelizard's babies or one of Teonath's, she doesn't clarify. Instead, she beams again and hops off the stool so that she can quickly bring out a little tin from among the pile of supplies. "I can't eat it all, anyways. I've been feeling a bit ill, and I just wanted to share. I was going to keep baking 'till you came in, but I guess I should stop 'fore the real bakers have nothing left to work with." She giggles as she goes off again, rambling, and quickly moves the tin over to the candidate. "Fill 'er up with what you want to take. Don't forget those tarts, I bet they'd like them!" And then as an afterthought, she adds with as stern a voice as she can muster: "An' ya come find me an' tell me what they thought of it... Laylia, right?"

"I'm sure I would have to learn more. I'm clearly ignorant when it comes to that." Laylia admits, though it's not self depreciating at all, it's truth and she knows it. She watches as the tin is rummaged for, then handed to her. A long consideration is given to the tarts and cookies, trying to figure out how much of each she should put into the tin to accommodate the people she wants to. "I hope you feel better soon." She offers, though there's a glint that suggests she's not quite so daft as to not know why women sometimes feel ill for what appears like no reason. "I'll tell you what they think, surely. Thanks for the talk, it really helped me more than you probably think." She says, and gets herself to her feet to put in cookies and tarts then seal up the tin to take it to the barracks and hide it in her press for the night.

Suraiya nods her head again, this time just slightly so to put her point across. "Of course. That's what 'linghood is for. An' if you stick 'round the Weyr, if you don't Impress--which you will, you'll definitely pick up on a whole lot more." And then she's grinning that family toothy one, winking one last time to the candidate, because, she might act it but she knows she can't be sick for any reason, too. "Oh, I /hope/ not." And there's a giggle to that, too. She stands up a bit straighter, looking smug for herself. "Oh, I really try. But glad to have made 'nother friend in the place. Just one more person to bake for! Enjoy those, an' have a good night."

Laylia can't help but snicker a little more at the first statement. "We'll see if I stay or not, afterwards." She says with a wry smirk, clearly trying to decide what her path will end up taking, whichever way it goes. Scrunching her nose a little at Suraiya, then adding, "You should still feel /better/. I'm sure you don't want to feel ill." She says, and then hugs the tin to herself and lifts a hand to wave. "I'll see you around, Suri. I look forward to having more of your baking!" She says emphatically and then slips back out into the living cavern.

Breakfast on mucking day...

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 19:48:00 GMT

Laylia comes out of the barracks to find a rather small group, which turns into a large group by the end of it. :) Was fun, and met a new person!

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#840RIJs)
Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters.
The morning is clear and the sun shines brightly. It is completely still, no winds blow and the summer air is pleasantly warm.
Contents:
Leova
Dagany
Obvious exits:
Weyrleader Ledges Dragon Infirmary Candidate Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore Western Bowl

Dagany

Fortunately for Dagany, being nearly entirely unkempt works for him. His hair is nondescript, brown, scruffy; he keeps it short, off his neck, but it's long enough to be disheveled. On the occasions that he does grow facial hair it's patchy at best and deviates from that color to be a reddish anomaly. His eyes are large and dark, his nose is a little big but well-proportioned to the rest of his face and his mouth is full above a square chin. While not lanky by any means, he's trim and average in build and thin enough to suggest spare meals coupled with exercise or a great metabolism.
He dresses like someone without the marks or time to wear anything but hand-me-downs but does make an effort when it comes to the weather. Collared shirts are common with vests unbuttoned on top, drab colors and worn material.

Leova

     At 5'5", it's that much easier for Leova to blend in with a crowd, particularly with boxy clothing to conceal her curves. She doesn't often fuss with the rest either, her hair messy and auburn, tangling down to her shoulders; tawny skin is further browned by sun and wind, doing little to soften the feline cast to her features, and her dark-fringed eyes are the yellow amber of a masterminer's prize.
     She's dressed the same as she had for stable work: heavy boots that see daily polish, plain brown pants that let her stride lengthen, and an off-white tunic belted with an array of tools. A thick fleece jacket has a candidate's knot on one shoulder. (+detail available)

~~

It's only just enough time to begin to relax. Which makes Leova's, "Breakfast," that much terser. She keeps looking at the bowl, not at him, gauging the angle she's walking with what's becoming habit. Almost out of the shadows. Almost into the sun. "You live here?"

"Oh, breakfast. I'm starving." But not, apparently, suffering for it, mood-wise. Dagany keeps his smile, in spite of his companion's obvious not wanting him here. Or anyone here. He doesn't mind. /Her/ question isn't a surprise. He answers it like she's been talkative this whole time. "Here. There. I've lived all over." And, now that /he's/ talking more, the soft, gentle quality of his voice comes through. "What about you?" His hands are in his pockets now, his shoulders are hunched.

Satiet walks down the short flight of steps from the weyrleader ledges.
Satiet has arrived.

Laylia comes out of the candidate barracks with a long languid stretch and a drawn out yawn. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the daylight, she sighs and trudges her way through the bowl to see Leova and some man she doesn't recognize talking, perhaps? "Hey, Leova? Morning!" She calls out, and then looks at her companion with a curious expression.

That gentler quality may make up for vagueness to some degree, or maybe it's the way he makes himself smaller, or more of that politeness again. Leova taps her shoulder in any case, the one with that candidate's knot. "For now." Over her shoulder, "Laylia. Come on!" So she doesn't miss breakfast either, or so Leova's not alone?

Niena strides in from the candidate barracks.
Niena has arrived.

Appearing on the edge of her ledge, Satiet's languid stretch as she observes the activity of the bowl casts a short morning shadow over those in the vicinity. A pivot and then light steps down the stairs eventually turn into a path that leads the white-clad woman towards the morning crowd, though her amble seems purposeless in her approach of Leova and Dagany. It's Laylia's call, and the return from a tawny woman that catch her attention before she pauses and ventures her own cool greetings to the group she's near. "Good morning."

Laylia is certainly not well rested, darker circles grace her eyes and she's trying to put her hair up as she crosses the bowl. It's a arduous process, as bits of her red hair keep flying away and eventually she just gives up and puts it up as it is, with a jutting strand here or there. Dagany gets an odd look, and a comment of, "I haven't seen you before." Then her attention turns to Leova and she offers a quicker smile. "Going for breakfast? I got stable mucking today, which I'm /so/ looking forward to." She says, and arches a brow as she sees the Weyrwoman coming out as well. "Morning, ma'am." She offers quietly, but loud enough to be heard.

"This Dagany says he's lived here. There. All over," Leova tells Laylia. "Dishes for me." At his grin at Laylia, the corners of her mouth turn up, and suddenly she's far too pleased. "Striking, isn't she." Looking up, "Morning, Weyrwoman." Also striking. Does Dagany have a chance?

Niena wanders out as chores are being enumerated. "Firestone bagging -- I think I'll gain a new appreciation for the concept of "pain" today." She is probably the plainest person here, and also the least likely to try to attract notice.

Striking though the ladies in his company might be, but Dagany doesn't seem at all perturbed or disturbed or unsettled or, even, interested. In their faces, anyway. "I'm--" Dagany. He is. But Leova's beaten him to it so, without something further to say, he just quirks his mouth and ducks his head. Yep.

A beat skips as the raven-haired woman takes in Dagany's reaction, following his bright grinning expression to find Laylia, and just beyond the red-haired candidate to find Niena. Her own mouth shapes, the driest of smirks curving crooked, a fleeting glance of pale blue returning to Dagany at his failed attempt at introduction. "Please," utters the cool alto, a heightened sense of some amusement flicking to Leova and her pleasure. "Don't let me interrupt." (Satiet)

Laylia knits her brows at the suggestion that she's striking, and gives an even more curious expression to Leova before looking once more at Dagany - who doesn't even seem interested. She attempts to get close enough to Leova so she can ask her something privately, then quirks a smile to Satiet. "No interruption, ma'am. We're just heading to the living cavern for some breakfast." She insists, and waves at Niena when she catches her too. "Coming, too, Niena? I wanted to ask you about that perfume you got."
Laylia mutters to Leova, "... know this... I rushed over?"
You whisper "Do you even know this guy? I hope I'm not interrupting whatever you two were doing before I rushed over?" to Leova.

"As you say, Weyrwoman." Though Leova finally stops walking, but it's to turn to Niena, not with her name this time, with the barest glance to see whether Dagany keeps walking. "There you are. Talk over breakfast?" Which conveniently makes it easier for Laylia to catch her ear, to which whisper she gives an emphatic shake of her head and a short whisper of her own.
You sense Leova whispers, "Might be harmless. But..." she doesn't know.

Niena says "breakfast sounds inordinately good. The perfume is in my press, but I can grab some napkins on the way back for the dab." At Leova's whisper her eyes go wide and, being the master or subtlety, she points to Satiet quickly and murmurs something back."

If he doesn't look uncomfortable, surrounded by females, Dagany doesn't look completely capable of handling the situation either. He's tensed some, and glances from Leova to Laylia when she comes over, his smile returning for the red-haired candidate but, when he turns out not to be the target, fades some. He /does/ stop walking and, when the girls start whispering to one another, edges away from them, looking somewhat chagrined. But Niena and Satiet are still present and, it seems, unattached to one another. So he keeps his place and says, "Are we all going to breakfast then?" Read: oblivious.

The mention of perfume tilts Satiet's head, though she doesn't look to Niena. As the group of candidates plus one singularly not-unsettled man move towards breakfast, the raven-haired woman is left with a choice. Her toes wriggle and her barefeet shuffle idly on the floor as she considers her options: the blue vista of the Weyr lake so close, or the prospect of an indulgent, teenage conversation filled morning. It's either being in a good mood, or particularly ornery and eavesdroppy that makes Satiet's decision for her, for while she doesn't hover, per se, her own path turns just off to the distance, aiming for unintrusive, but still headed to the living cavern herself.

"I can get it later, no big rush." Laylia says to Niena, with an idle shrug of her shoulders. An arch of her brows accompanies the fact that the Weyrwoman appears to be interested in following a bunch of whispering, not all teenage girls, towards the living cavern - but even Weyrwomen need breakfast, assuredly. She does ask a rather pointed, "That perfume Niena says she has is yours, right? I'd hate to get my group duped.." while the other candidates are whispering amongst themselves. A look is given to the relatively disheveled looking man, "We are, we only have so much time before we got to start with chores.."

"Guess so." Being about as disheveled as Dagany doesn't stop Leova from giving him a dry look as well. "How long you been here?" She doesn't step into Laylia's question, either, though she does add to the other women, "Wonder whether the coordinators have arranged for the samples to be sniffed. To see if they're right, and all..."

Niena looks stunned at Laylia's question, even managing a "Lylia, you're my *friend*. I wouldn't trick you." Coming from someone else this might be spurious, but Niena is genuinely aghast at the thought.

Fraya wanders in from the candidate barracks.
Fraya has arrived.

Yep, Dagany's pretty disheveled. It's almost like he and Leova are a matching set! Not that he seems to notice. Nor does he seem to notice that Satiet's joining them might be strange. He doesn't know her, see. But he does know that he's hungry, and seeing as how the other girls aren't, ah, against his joining them -- outright anyway -- he angles his body in an awkward way and starts to mosy towards where food must be. Follow the weyrwoman, she must know where she's going.

Following the weyrwoman might not be the best of ideas as after a few steps tagging along, Satiet's steps veer sharply towards the dragon infirmary, the amble turning into a brisk jog.

Laylia shrugs her shoulders at Niena, "I'd just hate to waste the time, and a day off is a high prize for tired candidates." She admits, and then thumbs off towards the living cavern. "I'm just going to grab what I can and run off to the stables, easier to clean when they're exercising the runners in the early morning." She says, and gives Dagany a long look, as though memorizing him for later recount. "Nice meeting you. Sorry, I have to run off." She says, and gives a sheepish smile to Niena. "Sorry I doubted you, but you know rumors are bound to stir about the Weyrwoman just handing you a /whole/ vial." She softens it up with a smile, and then traipses off to the living cavern to grab her quick breakfast.

Niena sighs and shakes her head, as if unable to comprehend the idea, but breakfast has a strong pull. She nods to Leova and hurries toward the Weyrhall.

Mending in the Snowasis...

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 20:18:16 GMT

Seems Laylia's got a bad habit of frequenting the Snowasis, snagging drinks whenever she can and duty permits.. A chat with B'yan ensues, then one with Fraya...

Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Obvious exits:
Ledge Lower Caverns

Currently at High Reaches Weyr:
The morning is clear, and the sun shines with a few small clouds floating past. A strong wind blows past and the summer air is pleasantly warm.

B'yan

B'yan is a tall young man with smooth, dark skin. His eyes shine hazel and his short-cropped black curls are rakishly wild, flowing about like the waves of the sea. His eyes seem to smile at you...or mock you, depending on intent. As for his gentle lips, they curve into an endless smirk, as though he's about to get into some kind of trouble. He appears calm, but has a business-like air about him, which usually means there's more to him than meets the eye. He is about 27 Turns, 8 months, and 13 days old.
He is wearing a loose-fitting, off-white shirt with a collar and long sleeves. The dark-colored, wherhide pants are thick in fabric to keep out the chill of the cooler climates, adorned with two pockets on both sides and a tan-colored belt. There's a knot attached to his shirt with a bronze strand going through it to indicate his lifemate, and that he is a bronzerider at the High Reaches.

~~~

The late afternoon isn't as busy in the bar as it gets in the evening, so it's quite easy to spot B'yan occupying the back area towards the patio ledge. Lounging at a table, he has an untouched mug before him and is regarding the man standing across the table from him. Leaning back and resting his arm on the seatrest, it appears there's a lack of formality or gravity between the two men - the other draped in a long gray coat and looking twice the bronzerider's age - and it seems as though their talks are nearing an end.

Lucking out today, Laylia has washing and mending to do as her chore and she couldn't look any more pleased when she wanders into the Snowasis to get herself a drink from the bar. Oh, she has her work with her, all neatly piled in a basket that she sits on the chair while she waits for her drink to be given to her, and idly toys with her hair to twist it up into a bun and out of the way. The pair chatting draws a little attention, but not overmuch since she doesn't even know either of them.

The older man stepping free of the table, "It will be ready for transport in no time," he could be heard saying with lack of farewell, turning to excuse himself out of the bar with little notice. B'yan watches him leave, all the way to the entrance until his gaze passes across Laylia. It pauses a few moments there, regarding her, before he finally reaches forward to take up his mug. His eyes don't really leave her as he takes a drink, and when he does look away it's down to his open riding jacket to fish for something in his inner pockets.

The drink takes it's time in coming, but finally, triumphant, Laylia picks up the basket first to settle it, then the drink. Taking both, she starts towards her preferred place in front of the hearth - despite the fact it's summer and the heat isn't really required as much. She notes B'yan looking at her, and arches a slender brow at him. "Something I can help you with, sir?" She asks, once she gets a little closer and doesn't have to speak up too loud so the whole room can hear her.

His hand pulling free of his jacket to hold something folded with a writing utensil as Laylia approaches, "You look familiar," B'yan drawls to her without looking as he bends over and scribbles something quick across the hide. Flipping it over and giving her his attention now, "It's the red hair," he adds tactfully with a lopsided grin. "I know that red hair." Hazel eyes then flick over her briefly before he adds on, "Candidate."

"Perhaps you're thinking of someone a little shorter than me." Laylia suggests, inviting herself to at the very least set down her basket on one of the chairs across from B'yan, since his previous company has departed. She isn't so bold as to try and read what he's writing, instead looking down into her glass before looking at his face to try and pick out anything recognizable about him. "Lots of people have red hair, sir. My name's Laylia, and yours is?" She asks, though doesn't invite herself to sit with him, she remains standing next to the table instead.

"Lots of people are alittler shorter, too," B'yan states with a bland smirk, his attention sweeping towards the basket she sets down. "So you're Shanlee's sister," and he deftly slips the hide away and sets the writing utensil in the crook of one ear. "I heard rumors you were around. She never told me." Once the hide freed his hands to take up the mug again, "B'yan," he returns on names, the smile a touch more mischievious than before. "Wingleader with the bronze Jaireth. Well met, Laylia." He doesn't offer her to sit as well, but it's likely whether she took liberties or not it would have passed on uncommented either way.

Laylia shrugs her shoulder, "Well, you're the one who started with the vague statements, I just figured I'd join in." She says, a slight smirk curling her lips. Seems knowing her sister is an open invitation to sit - either that, or it's because there's a person who's invited themselves to her usual spot, for she glances that way then back at him. "I haven't had much time to see her beyond just an idle passing here or there. I don't even think I've seen her since I was Searched.." She says, furrowing her brows and then shrugging. "I'm sure she's heard of it either way. Nice to meet you, can't say that Shan's really said much about you to me. I wonder if that's a good thing?" Pulling out the chair, she sets her glass on the table right afterwards.

Lopsided, "Does vague run in your family for you to take up after me?" B'yan returns with non-chalance, regarding Laylia's slight smirk with one of his own. He takes a long drink from his mug, then after setting it down at hearing the Weyrsecond hasn't spoken of him to her, "I doubt she would," he returns easily. "I'm not the open topic of idle discussion. That -could- be a good thing." Reclining back against his seat to fold his hands over his stomach, "Or maybe that means I make sure my name isn't on others' lips?" Head tilting slightly, "You should go and tell her," he adds this evenly to her. "Your sister. Unless you think she'll be angry and disappointed?"

Shifting the basket to the next chair, Laylia slides into the one across from B'yan easily and keeps her hand on her glass. Whatever it is in there, it's likely alcoholic, but the only rule is that they can't get drunk, and so far, she hasn't. "It's possible it could run in the family." She agrees with a nod, and then tilts her head to watch his movements before taking a drink and commenting with a snicker, "Oh, I'm sure you twist people's arms to keep them from speaking of you." She quips, and then adds a moment later with a smirk, "I just haven't had time to find her, or she's busy. Bad timing, it's not for lack of wanting to. She wouldn't be angry, I don't think... Besides, I'm pretty old for a candidate, my chances have to be slim."

"I can be nicer than -that-," B'yan says to him twisting anyone's arm with such a fake innocent air. "Perhaps it's a good thing your sister doesn't speak of me." After a linger drink from the mug, "Busy doing chores?" and he nods toward the basket with a slight air of distaste. "How I remember. They still have you all changing glows and cleaning the kitchens, hm?" Then with a light shrug to her last, "I wouldn't go by that, were I you," he drawls on it, his smile fading slightly. "Old age doesn't seem to deter them like old deeds doesn't."

"Oh, I see." Laylia says with a skeptical arch of her brows, though she eases into a quick smile afterwards. "Perhaps it is. Besides, I don't go by her bias for everything anyways. I prefer to judge for myself." She insists, and glances to the basket when the topic of chores rises up. "Mmm, yes. I don't mind the chores so much - except for cleaning the feeding pens, or sacking firestone." She says, scrunching her nose when thinking of those chores in particular. "It's my safety blanket, you know? It's an honor to get asked to Stand, but... I'm certainly not used to being around after a 'fall. It scared me, truth be told."

A pause comes from the wingleader before he gives into a nod - thoughtful. "You think she's biased?" B'yan asks bluntly, teeth nearly bared into the smile that threatens to blossoms fully. As to the talk of chores, "I chose to foist mine on others," he states with no apology, then adding rhetorically, "Why do them when someone else can?" --"What scared you about it?" He's all questions today, his brow furrowing at Laylia's last as he continues to favor his drink.

"Just because she likes or dislikes someone doesn't mean I'm going to." Laylia explains with a shrug of her shoulders, and takes another drink, before furrowing her brows at him. Giving him a long look, she then shakes her head. "There's supposedly a reason for all of it, so I'm trying not to foist my chores off on other people. Besides, I'm hardly coy about it, I'd get found out in no time." She admits readily, and then purses her lips. "All the injuries I saw, it could have been Shan, you know? And if I Impress, it could be me. Not that I'm so scared that I don't want to stand, I am curious and hopeful, but not as much as I see some of the candidates being."

"Evidently," B'yan tacks on behind her with some dryness mixed in with easiness, knocking back the last of his drink before finally setting it down. "Yeah, they told me enough of those reasons," he shrugs through the chores, indifferent in his demeanor. "Got found out, but I still stick to my principles." He silences when she talks about fall, such a topic getting an unreadable expression from him as he regards her across from him. Evenly, "It's the price you pay, out there," and he nods out in the direction of the hatching grounds where the clutch resides, his words probably more harsh-sounding without smile. "Best to see the consequences now than to wait with a dragon on your hands, I'd say."

"Well, then you're a far bolder person than I am." Laylia offers, reaching for her basket to pull out some of the clothing with holes in it that she's supposed to mend. Thread is next to come out, along with a needle that she strings through it without much difficulty. "It's a hard truth to come across, that's for sure." She says, glancing towards the sands, and then back to him. "How does it feel to Impress? I've never asked Shan, never really thought to before. I've heard rumors, but you know how far you can trust those."

Snorting, "Or I'm foolish or too uncouth to know any better," B'yan remarks on being bold, eyes sweeping towards his empty mug briefly. Watching her then with he needle and clothing, "You'd really want to know?" he asks in turn about Impression, lips twitching as if to hold back some unseen smile. "You're sure you want to ask me? You might get a better answer from your sister." Chin lifting, "Tell me the rumors and I can shift fact from fiction for you," he simply offers.

Amusement is apparent on Laylia's features as he speaks, even as she draws the thread through the fabric of the shirt she's mending. "That could be true, too." She agrees, and then nods as he asks the first question. "Yes, I'm curious, and no, I don't want to ask my sister. While I value her opinion, I don't want to ask her about everything." She says, and then sighs with a faint shrug as she answers, "Just that it's the best thing that could happen to a person. I wanted to know your experience."

B'yan snorts again, this time with veiled amusement before he takes to leaning forward and lowering his voice. It's almost as if he's about to confide some secret to her, the way he places his arm on the table in his lean and lowers his head like a gambler holding onto his own cards. With a brief study, "It's darkness," he drawls it below the din of voices in the bar, lingering on each word. "Complete, utter darkness. It's like being hit under water, really - with a very big, sharp shovel." Despite the lack of a smile, his hazel eyes show different as he adds to her "Hit me in the stomach, he did. Then you hear voices. It's all one voice, but, either way you still think you're going crazy - and you are. It was the worst moment of my life." There's a dramatic sigh and he leans back away slowly, shaking his head as back hits the seat. With a pause prevailing and his voice back to normal, "It was the drink," he tells her, which could easily negate everything he had just said. "Jaireth was asking for food and I was mourning the smooth taste of wine." He lets a smile touch him then, mysterious in its appearance as he continues on with "I think what you said about Impression is the common feeling everyone gets," with a light shrug. "Didn't happen to me, is all."

Laylia leans forward even if she didn't entirely do it consciously, it's only common to do when someone's leaning towards you like that - and she certainly isn't getting any closer than the table would allow, so it's all fine. She listens, and furrows her brows as she does, certainly not expecting to hear that rendition of the tale of Impression. "Really? That sounds terrifying, or ... well, I guess I wouldn't /really/ know because I haven't experienced it." Surely, this isn't making her more enboldened to go out on the sands seeking Impression. She appears concerned, and leans back looking at his expression and the smile it holds at the end. "They don't let you drink at all when you're a weyrling? We can drink a little as candidates. I'll miss it if we can't." She says, looking to her drink and then back at him. "Is he the missing part of yourself, like they say dragons are?" She asks at the end, returning more of her attention to her mending so she's actually getting some completed.

Looking at her concern with near-laughter in his voice, "I told you not to ask me," B'yan replies lightly, facetiously. "I -could- be lying. If you want honesty, though, then I'd say it's different for everyone. I doubt it would be all 'sunshine and daisies' for every person. Impressing only made my life more interesting - if not difficult." As to the talk of drink, the bronzerider shakes his head to Laylia's question and answers "Can't drink till much later, anyway. Don't think the dragons would like an intoxicated mind." At her last, however, some of the candor is sacrificed for bluntness. "He's not," he answers that shortly. "I was whole then and I'm whole now. He and I are merely mutual partners in this party, so it's not something I believe."

"I think I believe what you said over the sunshine-and-daisies. Not everything can be that perfect, at least, nothing I've ever experienced." Laylia says, her gaze lingering on the shirt she's mending more than B'yan's expressions. Glancing up once in a while, she doesn't miss many of them, and frowns at the lack of liquor during weyrlinghood. "I suppose not. That's too bad. Poor weyrlings." She says with a snicker, and then nods, "That sounds about how I feel right now. I don't really think I'm missing anything, so how can I magically find it on the sands? Did you know some of the other candidates are asking to touch people's dragons for luck? That just seems silly."

"That might be -you- as that poor weyrling if you get the shovel out there," B'yan quips, running an idle hand over the empty mug before him. "Don't go in so blindly like I did." The small advice, for what it is, is given with neutral ease and with a lack of amusement or mockery. It lasts for about a few moments before the smirk is back, brows twitching at hearing the last with disbelief. "Luck? That's about the most amusing thing I've heard in a long time. Do they put dragon dung under their pillows too?"

Laylia rolls her eyes. "I'm not counting my dragons before they're hatched. I'm not some addle brained fourteen turn old girl." She quips, and keeps her attention on the shirt in her hand which is nearly completely finished being mended. "They might be, though I hear that's not exactly easy to find lying around without weyrlings about." She chides, and then falls quiet as she considers. "I'm trying not to go in blindly. That's why I asked your opinion. Not sure I'll ask Shan, but I know a few other riders now. Maybe L'ian will tell me what he thinks."

"And I should know that?" B'yan returns flippantly. "That you aren't addle-brained atleast?" There's small mockery here, its lack of maliciousness apparent in its deliverance. Straightening in his seat, "Whatever works," he quips to Laylia's last, eyes going to the entrance for a brief moment. It's likely L'ian's name either doesn't ring familiarity to him or his indifference is a common personality trait of his, for he gives no comment other than that. "Have they sent you to touch the eggs yet?" he asks once his gaze is back on her.

Laylia just gives B'yan a look, then shakes her head and returns her attention to her work. "I guess you'll just have to take my word for it." She says, no hesitation or care what he really thinks of her apparent in her tone. "Touch them? No, not yet. I guess they haven't hardened enough, perhaps?" She asks, but since she doesn't really know herself, she has no answers. "How well do you know Shan? She doesn't talk much about anyone, so I can never tell if I'm talking to someone who thinks she's nice, or someone who thinks she's just a ballbusting woman."

One corner of his mouth lifts, returning Laylia's look with one of his own. "Assuming your word's worth taking," B'yan tacks on behind her without little pause in between, alittle dryness evident. With the Weyrsecond brought up then, "Not sure if anyone really knows her well," he says on Shanlee, the dryness shifting to wry. "She's always been the discreet sort."

"Trust issues?" Laylia asks, winking at him and setting the mended shirt aside after she finishes tying off the ends. But, rather than bringing out another item, she tucks away the needle and thread for the moment. "I guess she hasn't changed too much from what I remember of her. I don't get to see her often, and even when I am here, she's still too busy to see me." She says with a sigh, and a shrug. "Am I keeping you from anything? I ought to get to the washing soon, lest someone come here and try and look cross at me."

Fraya meanders from the patio ledge outside.
Fraya has arrived.

"I don't trust easy," B'yan says too quickly - like reading off a record. The smile was a vague one, given for the wink. The wingleader gets to his feet then, fishing a hand into one of his pant pockets to pull out two marks. "You should remedy that," he drawls on the subject of her sister, tossing the marks onto the table as if in preparation to depart. "And I should go. Got reports and what have..." He steps away before nodding to her. "Pleasure meeting you," he muses.

"Seems to be a recurrent theme in this weyr, trust issues and wariness." Laylia idly comments, though makes no move to gather up her mending basket to go saunter off towards the water caverns yet. She watches him get up, curiously, and then smirks as though she's just won a battle she clearly hasn't fought. "Too bad. Perhaps I'll see you again, B'yan. And when those girls come by asking if they can touch your dragon... well, you can ask them about what they have under their pillows. Nice meeting you too.." She offers with a wave for the departing wingleader.

Fraya skips pleasantly into the Snowasis, moving to avoid the wingleader and giving a polite incline of her head in greeting. She says nothing but does flash a cheerful grin to the man. Laylia catches her attention quickly and she slides up. "Hey there Whatshername Laylia. Busy?"

Laylia narrows her eyes a little at Fraya's greeting, then shakes her head - perhaps in response, perhaps just as likely at her. She sighs a little, and reaches for another sock out of the basket, to start mending that since it seems she'll be here for a while longer yet. "He says that the sure way to get good luck on the sands is to put dragon dung under your pillow." She says, matter-of-factly, even if it might not be the truth. She looks from the stitching to see what Fraya's reaction might be.

Fraya giggles softly, smiling. "You need to relax, Laylia. Being all wary like that'll make you old and moldy." She points out, crossing her legs and looking thoughtful for a moment before she makes a face of disgust. "Well, shards. That's just nasty and makes no sense. Just like that spinning three times and spitting before you go on the Sands, that doesn't make sense either. See, it's got to make sense and dragon dung.. You can't get any cause they do that *between* except for when they're little. And, it's a little too late to but it under your pillow by then." She points out with a matter-of-fact tone. "Shells, riders gotta know that won't work.."

"Like running around touching them makes any more sense? Honestly, I really don't get it." Laylia says with a shake of her head, and stitches a few more rounds of thread into the hole in the sock. "He was joking, he thought touching them was as absurd as collecting their dung to give you luck. And, he said that Impressing a dragon isn't all sugar'n'spice like some Candidates think it is. More like getting hit in the stomach with a shovel underwater, and you think you're going crazy." She says with confidence, and again, looking at Fraya to see her reaction to that.

Fraya giggles softly, "It makes sense. Or, at least it's worth testing." She notes, winking. "You know, you're awfully sour today. Maybe I'll start calling you GoldDragon Layth.." She muses out loud to herself, giving a small nod before smiling. "I see.." A pause and she tilts her head. "Maybe we should test that. No rider ever told me that. They all said something like: It's amazing, like.. You have a new set of eyes to see the world in and it's a wonderful feeling. Maybe his dragon was rough and ran into his stomach when he was on the Sands and he just didn't notice and just assumes that Impressing was always like that..." She taps her chin, pondering. "We should test the water thing, though... If one of us Impresses. Though I'm sure your dragon would get mad..."

"Are all gold dragons sour? I'm not that sour, I'm just tired of mending." Laylia says, sighing as she continues to mend the sock she has in her hand. "I spent more time out with the llamas when I was home, more outdoor work than there seems to be here. I'm starting to feel closed in." She says, and then scrunches her nose at Fraya. "He said it was not a good experience, and that he doesn't feel any more whole than he did before he ran into Jaireth." Or something like that, she doesn't elbaorate. "I'm not trying any water thing, most young dragons are so obsessed with finding their lifemate and then food.. I think it's all they think about."

Fraya giggles softly, "I heard all of them were sour.. Shards, I feel sorry for their riders." She notes, shaking her head before offering a cheerful smile. "Once you finish mending, go play out by the lake! It's spacious there and quite enjoyable. I like it out there, myself." Musing once more, she taps her chin before her brows furrow with contemplation. "I see... I see... Bad experience I'd imagine. Wonder what it was like..." Slowly, she nods her head. "Yes, yes. But, it's still worth trying. Maybe Jae will help me."

"Satiet doesn't seem that sour, not really all that sociable, but not sour." Laylia says, and shrugs her shoulders. "I haven't really met that many goldriders though, so I have no basis." She then sets the sock aside in the basket and stretches some. "He said it was like going crazy, and hearing voices everywhere but it was only one voice." She says and then shrugs. "I'm sure you'll find out if you Impress, as will I if I do too. What is Jae going to help you with?"

Fraya shakes her head at that, tsking. "Not the riders as sour, but the dragons!" She exclaims, waving her hands a bit. "I heard they're quite sour often... Or maybe when they're proddy..." She trails off, cupping her chin. "Oh.. Yes. Just imagine hearing a voice from no where! Wouldn't it be frightening? Viviana and myself were talking about it before..." With that note, she shrugs. "I suppose I will. And you will too. And Jae'd help with the water experiment and the theory if dragons can see through walls!"

"I don't think it's the case for /all/ gold ones." Laylia says with a shake of her head in disbelief. She sticks the needle in the next piece of clothing she's going to be working on, but doesn't actually start working on it. "A lot of things are frightening about Standing. I've heard of grave injuries on the sands, and then just because you got your lifemate doesn't mean everything is grand. You're trained to fight a really dangerous foe. You'll have to tell me how those things go, though, right?"

Fraya ponders for a moment, nodding. "Well, these are just things I've heard. I've never met a gold dragon ever." She points out, giggling softly. "And, of course there are frightening things! Imagine you have sharp talons, you're hungry, and lost. You're gonna stomp around like grump until you can find someone to take care of you and you don't care what gets in your way. So therefor, danger." She gives a firm nod, then crosses her arms. "And, fighting Thread. Protecting your homes and innocent people. Gotta be proud of yourself and the training you'll be getting because you'll need it and it'll save you. Even if it seems hard..." She trails off, grinning. "That's what my cousin told me.. But, yes. I'll let you know since you're interested."

"You'll kind of meet the clutch mother when we go out and touch eggs." Laylia says, and then adds a moment later. "If they were really sour, they'd not let you close to them." She reasons, and then arches a brow at Fraya's synopsis of what a young newly hatched dragon is thinking as it stomps around. "I think it's that they really don't know what to do with their bodies yet. Some even trip over their own wings. I saw one rip a hole in it's own wing once." She says, and then nods a little. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. I'm still a little scared about it all." She says, and then glances to the doorway. "I have to get back to the water caverns. It was good seeing you."

FrayandJae and their Great Dragon Touching Experiment

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 08:44:40 GMT

Laylia is found in the Snowasis after finishing some of her chores for the day, a couple young girls chatter around her a lot.

A wet, rainy, lunchtime...

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 21:29:12 GMT

Laylia takes a little break from lower cavern cleanup, Louvaen continues working the living cavern..

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs)
The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Piles of summer fruit give off a shimmer of color and a waft of sweet aromas from their cradling bowls. Hanging sheaves of herbs and spices rustle in the breeze, adding their fragrance as well. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. Small groups gather here and there in the cavern, relaxing over a snack of freshly baked goodies as they cheerfully gossip.
Contents:
Louvaen
Jemah
Bucket o' Eggs
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns

Currently at High Reaches Weyr:
The afternoon is obscured by grey clouds. A moderate rain falls, and doesn't look to end anytime soon. It is completely still, no winds blow and the summer air temperature feels comfortable. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm.

~~~

The midday crowd is in full press in the living cavern this rainy summer afternoon. The air is close and a bit humid, buzzing with the sounds of countless conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. Despite it being lunchtime, Louvaen has found himself with washtowel still in hand. A table near the edge of the room shows signs of its recent occupation by a gaggle of children from the nursery -tuber salad globbed on the benches and table top and a festive explosion of colorful slaw sprayed across the floor. The young man is in the middle of rubbing down the tabletop, a mop and bucket lurking at the ready behind him for the floor. The water is already tinted heavily brown, no doubt from keeping up with the water and mud tracked in from the bowl.

Lunchtime is a wonderful time to sneak out for a much needed break from cleaning. If it wasn't bad enough dealing with the rotting, filthy mess that the stores was, Laylia's spent the day cleaning out dank recesses of the lower caverns today. A similar smock is worn as before, though not nearly as filth crusted as when down in the stores, and her hair is again pulled back into a runnertail with a bit of cloth over her hair to keep dirt from seeping in it. She ushers herself off to the kitchens to get her hands washed and lay aside her smock and shawl for now, and comes back out looking faintly refreshed. Louvaen catches some of her attention, and she wanders over to ask, "Have you managed to have lunch yet? It's got to be starting to wind down soon.."

Niena strolls in from the tunnel to the bowl.
Niena has arrived.

Louvaen looks up from his wiping of the table, lifting a wrist to rub across his forehead. "Hello Laylia," he greets first with a smile as the other candidate walks over, and then shakes his head. "I was just about to get a plate when I was called to take care of this," he gestures to the table. "My fault for being the slowest one to finish up earlier cleaning, I suppose." His smile twists wryly, turning to look at the mess still remaining to clean from the children's lunch. At lest the top is mostly clean, now. Folding the washtowel over, he skims it over an edge and then lets it drop down to the bench that's his next target.

"Oh yes, being slow often makes children toss their meals on the floor." Laylia says with a chiding tone, grinning at him. "Here, let me help you, and then you'll be done quicker, then maybe you can join me for lunch." She doesn't go so far as to start grabbing at rags or anything, however, waiting for acceptance before actually doing anything. "It's never much fun eating alone anyways, and I don't know most of the people around right now." She says, looking over the occupants to see if any strike her as people she knows.

Niena heads in from the kitchens, rubbing her hands on an apron and crying her eyes out.

Jaeni strolls into the cavern from the lower caverns.
Jaeni has arrived.

Louvaen laughs at that, humor cutting through the weariness in his eyes. "No, I mean that that's why I got stuck with cleaning, instead of one of the others on the same duty. They had all just sat down with their lunch." He tips his head to the side, playfulness lighting across his features. "Although," his hand holding the folded up towel lifts to point towards Laylia, as if readying the way for his next point. "Frustrated children do tend to throw things." His grin stretches wide on his face. Giving a little nod to her offer to help clean the table, he stretches the towel out further towards her. "I'd be grateful, thank you. If you could finish wiping down the benches, I'll take care of the slaw on the floor?" His other hand reaches out towards the mop handle. Wrapped up as he is with the messy table, he doesn't yet notice Niena coming out of the kitchens crying.

Laylia tilts her head as she notes the weariness that is all but apparent on Louvaen. "Have you been sleeping well? You seem a little too tired for it being barely lunchtime." She says, and snickers a bit at the mention about children being frustrated and throwing things, as she reaches for the towel gestured to so she can start helping with the cleanup as well. She gets the cloth wet so that the bench'll come clean easier, squatting a little so she can get a better vantage point on it to be sure it's cleaned enough. The sound of crying is likely lost in the din of the cavern, though Niena isn't likely too far from where they are. Arching slightly when she sees someone else she recognizes, she calls out, "Hey, Niena."

Niena rubs her eyes with her shoulders, her voice at odds with her appearance as she calls out a chipper "Hello."

Jaeni trudges into the living cavern, tired and more than dirty looking. Black smudges are across her cheeks, the tip of her nose and all up and down her arms. Her clothes? We won't even go there. The only thing that looks remotely clean are her hands, which look as if they've been recently washed. She wearily makes her way to the food, collects a plate worth of it and settles down into the nearest empty seat that she can find. "I hate stupid firestone.. stupid sacks... stupid supervisor with the stupid dirty stuff. Stupid." Mutter and mutter some more.

"Not particularly well," Louvaen admits on the topic of his sleeping. "You'd think, working harder than I'm used to, I'd drop off soundly. But it hasn't quite ended up that way." He relinquishes the towel with a shrug and steps over to give the mop a few good dunks before attacking the floor with it. Beets, cabbage, and slivers of carrots soon decorate the ropy strands. Looking up as he hears the girls exchange greetings, there's a smile on his face that slowly fades into a look of concern as he notes the sign of Niena's recent crying. "Hello Niena. Are you all right?" His concern look darts briefly sideways as he hears Jaeni's mutterings come to a table nearby, his eyebrows peaking in higher sympathy for yet another apparently unhappy candidate.

"Oh, that's too bad. Maybe it's just noisier than you like, sleeping in the barracks." Laylia suggests, though she has no basis for that, other than her own experience. She finishes with the cleaning of the bench fairly quickly as it's just a thin bit, and leaves the rest to Louvaen afterwards. Niena's face gains an arch of her brow, but since she'd already been asked about it, she turns her attention to the muttering arriving candidate. "Oh, my... you're completely /filthy/." Yes, she's quite the master of the obvious.

Niena giggles. "Nothing's wrong; just chopping onions. I think the head cook's happy to find something even I couldn't mess up in the kitchens." She gives Jaeni a sympathetic look, though in a chain reaction not restating what Laylia so elopquently said.

"And I'm not done being filthy yet. I have to go back and do some more!" Jaeni laments, though she doesn't explain what it is exactly that she's doing. A faint smile is mustered up for Niena, "I think that's going to be my job next time. There seems to be a lot of us here who don't do well in the kitchens." She glances over at Louvaen, and then looks back at him again. This time with more scrutiny. "Did you get all the splinters out?"

Louvaen nods agreement to Laylia's assessment about the noise. "That's probably a large part of it." He dunks the mop in the bucket a few times, cleaning it out before trying to get at the rest of the mess. Niena's giggles bring his smile creeping back over his features. "Well, that's good." His sideways glance fixes on the girl a long moment. "Were you trying to have us on, a bit?" he asks slyly. But then his attention turns to Jaeni, head tilting as he listens to the younger girl. Her double-take has him pausing in his mopping, her question sliding a corner of his mouth further up. "Yes, thank you. At least, I think I did. No apparent infection, anyway."

"You should try going to bed earlier, before the other candidates start coming in for bed. They're quiet enough that they don't wake me, and I get better sleep. Less free time, but better sleep." Laylia says, and sets down the rag she was using in favor of just looking between the candidates gathered and listening to the forthcoming conversations. "The only chore I don't much like is firestone sacking, because it gets me filthy to the point it takes forever to scrub myself clean. But, I can understand the need for the training, too." She says, and then frowns as one of the people from the lower caverns comes searching for her to finish her work - apparently lunchtime is over. "Shards, this sucks. I better get back to work!"

"That's good. Splinter infections are like, really gross." Jaeni responds, faint smile becoming a touch stronger. "And you're probably not sleeping good cause the cots are super lumpy. At least my cot is super lumpy, but I had slim pickings." She digs into her meal, devouring a fairly large amount of it before coming back up for air again. "Oh, bye! Whatever your name is because I don't know!" The blonde calls after Laylia. "I don't like the firestone either!"

Stores Cleanup

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 05:07:05 GMT

A scene that was massive... I was only there for a little while, and then had to run off to take care of something iRL. Unfortunately, I didn't even have time to pose out. I was the wallflower...

Central Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr(#17755RIJM)

Though certain of the Weyr's supplies are stored at the places where they are used, most are kept here, in the central storage complex. A series of caverns grouped around a central corridor, the complex is cut on the grand scale necessary to hold all the items a full and active Weyr needs.
The main corridor is wide and tall enough to admit a laden wagon. The walls are lined with heavy wooden doors, their wide spacing evidence of the size of the rooms behind them. Each of the doors features a posted inventory and map of its room's contents, and there are small piles of returned items beside several, waiting until someone has the time to reshelve them properly. There is a set of hardwood shelves available on a space of wall between two of the doors where people can place items when they are not sure which storeroom they belong in. Scanning the door signs, you note cold stores, dry food stores, rooms for textiles and furnishings, the records room, and the supply closet.
To the south, the corridor opens out to the lower caverns.
Milani, Louvaen, Aleudre, Jaeni, Niena, Amerie, Carisandra and Lujayn are here with you.
(Places code and +views (see '+view information'!) are implemented here.)
Contents:
Jaeni
Amerie
Aleudre
Lujayn
Carisandra
Louvaen
Niena
Milani
Obvious exits:
Records Room Lower Caverns

Niena brushes the spinner webs from herself, as well as a few live arachnids on which she proceeds to stomp. "I hate these things -- can't see them until after they've stung the babies." Following Lujayn's example, she grabs a broom and begins tackling webs on the other side of the room.

Word ran through the Barracks earlier that Hayda was really on the war path and collecting anyone remotely at loose ends to come help clean up the direst, dankest of the back Store Rooms. Milani of course got drafted to help execute this mission and so it is that she stands in the corridor outside the door with a group around her. "All right everyone. It's pretty bad in there. There's a huge pile of .. .junk in the middle of the room that has to be sorted through and anything worth keeping set aside, and stuff that's not tossed. The shelves are in bits, anyone good with a hammer, help Oson and Nibren here, our handy handymen to tear down what's there and put up new, but we gotta take whatever's on 'em down first and it's just not /pretty/." Millie takes a deep breath. "So ... grab your glows and your courage and let's go, Hayda wants this one sorted out by the end of the seven!" So saying she puts the key to the door, unlocks it and swings it open with an ominous groaning of hinges and flame it if it's not a horrid mess indeed, with spinnerwebs all over the place and snake skin droppings here and there.

Milani ducks around the big old pile of junk with a grimace. "It's the last one, Amerie," she notes with a sigh and looks around, lifting her own glowbasket high. "Shells what a mess." She stands in front of a rickety shelf now and looks over her shoulder as Aleudre sets free that cloud of dust. "And Faranth only knows what /that/, is" she points at dark lumpy ... things on the shelves. Ugh. Dust bins? Who's got them?" calls out the assistant headwoman looking back towards the open door.

Jaeni is following along in the tail end of the group, eyeing the cobwebs and dusty shelves. She eyes the brooms and the girls battling spiders, and instead seems to decide that she's better off doing something else. Changing direction she heads towards the shelves and starts pulling things off them and placing them carefully on the ground. She pulls one box off, curiously peering inside. "A box of socks?" She sounds disappointed at the find and also a touch confused.

Louvaen hangs at the back of the group as he listens to Milani, features grimly set against what awaits them all. As she finishes, his chin drops in a little nod as his eyes go to the door. Watching the other candidates begin to file in, his top lip begins to curl upwards as their comments filter back. Finally, with a sigh, the young man's fingers tighten around the handle of his glow basket and he hesitantly ventures forth into the room. His eye catching on the broom-wielding Lujayn first, he slides into step behind her to take advantage of the path she makes. "If you can clear a way to those shelves, I suppose I'll get started on what's up there," he notes in a weak voice, swinging his glow basket to indicate the stand of shelves sagging against the far wall.

Laylia is a little behind the crowd, having her hair pulled back into a cloth to keep the cobwebs from getting stuck all in it, and with an apron on in front of her dress to keep it from getting too terribly dirty. "I have a couple dust bins with me, ma'am." She offers, and nudges Louvaen with her glows basket who appears to be less than eager to join the cleanup in the dark place. The small dust bins she has with her are tucked under her other arm, and she appears not entirely eager to clean the room but definitely willing to.

Shaking down a fair share of dust along with the webs, Lujayn is relieved by the call for bins. "Here," She swings her broom around to wipe off the mess collected on its bristles, all the fiber and dust wound around the long tail. "Thanks for the light. Let's go." Another relieved greeting to Louvaen, beginning a new campaign towards the shelves now that another glow shows her what still hangs from the ceiling. "I thought I looked busy enough to get out of working down here..."

Aleudre pulls the box out further into the glowslight, opening it more carefully this time. "Hm, this one's sheets. Looks half-eaten, at that." He reaches one gloved hand in and lifts up one of the near thread-bare sheets to look at further. "Where's that garbage pile again?" he asks Milani, who seems to be closest. Not waiting for a answer, he starts to pull the box over to the pile Jaeni's making. "Here. Let's make this the toss out group, hm?"

Sourly, "I've heard that before." Amerie follows Milani in despite generally bad humor over this 'last' room; wrinkling her nose at the general decay, and the lumpy things... But then, Jaeni's said something interesting. With a blink, a flick of dark eyes towards the candidate, "Socks?" Said casually. "How old?"

Carisandra is wandering into the back of the chamber. She's picked up and old broken broom that was laying against the other side of the boxes Aleudre started working on. She uses the handle mostly to bring down the spinner webs and tromp the spinners that land on the floor and jumping back to keep them from falling on herself. Not that she's very successful keeping them off. "ack"

"Oh thanks Laylia! Bring those over here!" Milani calls over to the Candidate. "That we can just ... pull this pile of ... whatever right down into them and ... deal with sorting it later. All these have to come down." She eyes the shelves suspiciously. "Be careful of bumping them too hard!" A turn of her head Aleudre's way and she shakes her head. "I don't really know, it has to be all separated out. Looks like there's even scrap wood in there. And who knows under that tarp." The pile in question looks like some long misshapen dragon, old and toothless, a mishmash of furnishings, scrap wood, boxes, barrels and who knows what else, with the tarp slung over one end hiding ... stuff.

Niena is still working on the webs when suddenly she jams the broom handle onto the floor, hard. It doesn't sound as loud and sharp as it might seem it should, and the reason soon becomes clear -- she just neatly broke the neck of a tunnelsnake crawling out of one of the corners. "Watch out -- it's not just skins." she calls to the others.

"How old? Well, they're... dusty?" Jaeni pauses by the proclaimed 'toss out group' by Aleudre, to examine her find. Hesitantly she sticks her hand inside and pulls a few out. "Well, they're totally gross and dirty but they aren't falling apart?" The blonde looks over Amerie, holding them up. Then she drops them back into the box. Niena outright killing the tunnelsnake causes her to wrinkle her nose and stare at the animal out on the floor. "Ew."

Louvaen skips forward more rapidly at Laylia's prodding, turning a half-grin back over his shoulder at the other candidate. Glancing back forward, he rocks back to stay well clear of the broom that Lujayn swings around. Coughing lightly to get the dust out of his lungs, he nods at the younger girl. "Certainly. After you." Reflexively ducking his head down, he follows her progress towards the shelves, chuckling wryly at her final words. "I supposed I was doomed today, as it was obvious that all the prep work I could help with in the kitchens was done." He turns his head back to look at what the others are doing, blanching as he hears Niena's warning of tunnelsnakes. A quiet 'shards' is whispered under his breath, and his glowbasket is held lower as he scans the area in front of Lujayn's feet. "You don't see anything moving, do you?" is asked nervously.

Viviana walks in from the lower caverns.

With a sympathetic glance, Amerie waves Jaeni and the box of totally gross socks away. "It's likely all trash," she says, generally. Though she's with Jaeni on the ew - looking Niena's way with a grimace, she begins to back towards the door a little. "Milani," she calls, "I'm just going to be over here. Let me know if you need me to go get anything."

Aleudre stares at Niena. "I can't believe you just -killed- that thing without so much as flipping." He looks fairly uncomfortable at the act, though he hides it as best he can by assessing Jaeni's socks. "Yeah, that's just trash to me. I don't want to mend them." He nods to Amerie, "see?" His own box of haphazard pieces of wood and sheets is discarded as he steps around to go and start looking through some of the shelves. Cautiously.

Lujayn looks over her shoulder, hearing the plight of another candidate with the webs. "You okay, Carisa? Spinners getcha?" She keeps on towards the shelves, brushing the old structures heartily with her broom once the way is clear. "Nothing down her but dirt, and looks like some boxes too." She replies to Louvaen, but starts sweeping vigorously at shadowy corners - just in case.

Laylia heads over towards where Milani called out to her, and rather than asking, she just starts collecting things into the bin that seems like it could be garbage - or very large dustbunnies. The other candidates are listend to, though not entirely commented about, except when Niena makes that large crunching noise which causes her to turn around quickly, and wonder, "What was /that/?" She then notes the dead carcass and scrunches her nose. "Oh, it's one of those."

From the deepest, darkest corner of the stores comes the dulcet, sweet tones of Viviana. That is, if high-pitched shrieks could ever be regarded as dulcet. "Get that thing away from me, it's disgusting, it's dead and it's got no head!!" Yes, Vivy had been trying her best to be on her best behaviour but a girls got her limits. "And where is the head, anyhow---- ewww get that away from me, it's dripping!"

"More dust cloths," Milani says firmly as she eyes the veritable clouds of the stuff lifting up into the air, to Amerie with a grin and then shakes her head a little about the tunnelsnake killing. "There's probably more where that came from," she notes briskly and then steeling heself, starts to pull the dark mounds of stuff off the shelves right into one of the dustbins from Laylia. "Oh ... oh foul. Rotting, buggy ... eeek!" Some creepy crawlies go skittering every which way, a few winged, taking off out of what was probably formerly a pile of woollen sweaters.
Niena says wryly "It's rare one of these gets into the nurseries, but when they do, it's a matter of killing them as soon as possible so the babies don't get hurt. In a way I prefer them over spinners since you can actually see them coming."

"Your master mending skills won't fix this sock?" Jaeni asks him, stooping down long enough to find one with a huge hole in it to show him. She giggles and then drops it, trailing along back to the shelves. The next thing she grabs, a jar. With something liquidy in it. She presses her face up against the glass of the big, staring inside, "I don't think this can be saved." Viviana's shrieks startle her enough that she tosses the jar up in the air and has to scramble to get a hold of it again before it drops to the ground.

Carisandra spins around at the tunnelsnake warning. She stares at Niena for a few seconds then looks down at the floor around her. Nope. No snakes there. No shadows zipping about either. At least, not that she can see. "Not yet." she calls back to LuJayn. Reaching one of the old shelves in the very back she eyes the stuff on it but before she can see what it is, a good sneeze rocks her back on her heels. The sneeze sends a spinner that was resting on the shelf scuttling into the back against the wall. "Niena, I'm going to stick by you from now on. Deadeye."

Shrieking abounds it seems with so many teenaged girls in one disgusting, creepy space. Milani brushes a crawlie off her arm and stoically shoves the rest of the decomposing sweaters into the dustbin. "Thankfully, we shouldn't have to do this /again/ once it's /done/. We'll make sure to keep these clean from here on." Jaeni's tossed jar earns a cringe though. "Oh shells ..." she murmurs eyeing its arc but too far off to really do anything about it.

"Dust cloths. Excellent." Amerie is pleased with that task, though her expression shades towards a smirk as she hears Viviana shrieking. In a voice that carries, "Good luck, Vivy. If you kill anything, please don't bring it my way?" And the dark girl ducks out into the corridor again, on a mission.

"Right." Louvaen swallows hard, nodding again as Lujayn fails to see anything moving. As she brushes down the shelves, he moves into the cleared space. "I'll look through these boxes," he volunteers reluctantly as the girl carries on with her sweeping. The shelf creaks and cracks threateningly as he slides one of the wooden boxes forward, then lifts it quickly down to the ground. Steeling himself with another breath, the young man squats beside it and pries the lid off. "Ugh, ick, eww," he exhales, turning his face away from the desiccated decay lying at the bottom of the box. "I think this one used to be tubers, or something." Standing, he eyes the next box warily before reaching to bring it down, too.

Vivy appears from the shadows, looking prematurely grey as her usual black hair is throughly covered with dust and spinner-webs. Glowering at her fellow work crew who wisely stay within the darkness, she sniffs. "Rude, obnoxious, evil little t.." Oh, hello MIlani!" Her smile is as sweet as ever. "I think we got that corner cleared." She peers over at Louvaen and laughs. "Too bad the vintners weren't here, they could make wine out of that?"

Niena resumes clearing cobwebs in her corner and neatly sweeps the tunnelsnake corpse in with the skins and dust already there. Not seeing any other snakes at the moment she begins sweeping in general, smiling gratefully at Laylia as she sees the dustpans in the other candidate's hands.

Laylia can't help but snicker a little as even the men of the group start sounding like girls trapped in this filthy workspace. She doesn't make a big deal about it though, simply goes about plucking out things that are surely trash, and tossing them into the dustbin. "Once you've cleared out rooms like these before, it doesn't seem so bad. You should see the back of the stables back at home, some of those got nasty.." She muses, heading towards Niena to use the bin to dispose of the tunnelsnake corpse along with the dust she'd gathered up.

Lujayn clears her dusty throat, eyes watering from the clouds of dust rising from every which way. "Careful.." She eyes the shelves for a moment before carrying on, mistrustful of the rickety things. "A box of tubers?" Is her echoed confusion before silent, furious sweeping commences. All too soon, it's ended by a cry of her own. "Oh! There it goes! Get it!" Sounds like she has a tunnelsnake on the run, or rather the slither. Multiple thwacks of Lu's broom echo from the floor as she races after the swiftly moving shadow, single-minded.

Jaeni barely manages to get a hold of her jar, sighing with relief when it doesn't smash into a million pieces on the ground. Holding it tightly in her arms she walks over to the pile and places it down. "Sharding screaming girls... think they'd never seen dirt and bugs and moldly food before..." She mutters, looking as if she's becoming disgruntled.

"Huh?" Carisandra spins around, her back to the shelves as she looks at the floor around her, then tries to spot Lujayn. "What? Where?" Finally she spots Lujayn across the cavern from where she is, which sends her eyes back to the floor again to see if she can spot any odd shadows moving where they shouldn't be. "Which way?" She's gradually edging back towards Niena.

"Oh you know, that looks like the preserved pears we lost last winter!" Milani says with a hint of forced brightness as she looks at Jaeni's jar more closely. "Here, those should actually be okay, put those in um ... that box there?" An empty one nearby that looks mostly still in one piece. "There should be more of those Jaeni," notes the assistant headwoman confidently then she turns at Vivy's approach. "Oh good. One corner down ... how many more to go?" And she looks around with a roll of her eyes. "Everyone okay back there with the snakes?" she calls out more loudly.

Louvaen twists to cast a glance over at Viviana as he sets the next box on the floor. "I don't think I'd like any wine that came from this," he notes flatly. The second lid is pulled off, revealing more of the same as the first box. But before he can pull down another box, Lujayn's cry sends a shock through him. With an undignified yelp the young man leaps for the shelves. "What!" His voice is high and frightened. "Where? Have you got it?" The old wood creaks under his weight, the bottom shelf snapping under his feet and dropping them back to the ground.

Returning with a basket of dust cloths, Amerie can't exactly hear what Milani's being a little too bright about, but she can hear that something's off - drifting through the dirt and people to the other assistant headwoman, she offers smoothly, "Dust cloths?" It's in the same tone and cadence as one might ask, 'What's up?'

Viviana scowls as she overhears Jaeni. "I wasn't screaming at bugs and mouldy food is disgusting = but dead, dripping tunnelsnakes are scream-worthy in my mind." Wiping off her mouth after taking a drink from a waterskin, she looks about for a new project, in better lit areas. Grabbing a dustrag, she busies herself dusting an area already dusted, making sure to get all the deeper corners. Muttering to herself, she vows. "No one is getting me down there, no way no how." Clearing her throat, she answers Milani. "Oh, they are crowded back there, lots of workers, lots of snakes, lots of gore, they've got it covered. Pears? Are pears supposed to bubble like this?" She brings out a jar for inspection, grey moldy blobs floating in a murky brine. "Good thing we don't get those back home."

Milani beams all the more brightly at Amerie as she arrives. "Oh thank you so much Amerie. Those'll help immensely with getting the jars of /pears/ dusted off so we can see if they're still good." There's a covert little widening of her eyes at the other assistant headwoman and a tiny nod towards another row of the jars, a different set from the ones Viviana's dealing with that actually look to be in good shape under the dust.

"Well they're dead, it's not like they're going to put their slimey heads back on turn and totally, like, eat you or something." Jaeni responds. She glances down at the jar and then at Milani. "Oh, so those other jars are pears too?" Her eye find their way back to the shelves. She picks up the preserved fruit, lugs it over to the other box and places it gently down. That done she redirects herself again and goes back to the jars, picking them up and staring inside the contents dubiously.

"Some tunnelsnakes are poisonous though, I hope none of the ones in here are.." Laylia muses, as she picks up random garbage from the corners of the rooms. She even lifts the tarp to check what's underneath there, then drops it the moment after. "I have /no/ idea what that is, but if someone else does.." She says, arching her brows and looking quite skeptical of the finding before walking off from that to gather more garbage for her bins.

Niena finally sees the fleeing tunnelsnake and heads for it, broom ready. With an efficient snap she breaks this one's back, the kill as bloodless as her first. Again she sweeps the carcass as well as the shed skins and other miscellenea into a pile and begins tackling another section of the floor.

Lujayn nearly trips over one of the boxes of tubers in her haste to get after the serpent (thwack!), but dodges aside with a fierce strike of her broom. "Here," (thwack!) "over here," She responds to those who ask, none too specific, though her shouts are out of excitement - a thrilling chase - rather than fear. There's a final-sounding thud, and Lu twists to see exactly where she's ended up. "Got it!" A cheerful call, sweeping the deceased thing towards the growing rubbish pile. "Lou, come down - oh, nevermind," She can't help but chuckle, seeing the broken shelf.

Amerie looks the way Milani indicates and Jaeni goes to investigate - and in an unusually candid moment, the dark girl just sighs. Of course. It takes but a moment for her to recover, nodding Viviana's way. "Perhaps they're just better preserved than the other lot?" she supposes, though not very certainly.

Carisandra returns to the doorway to grab a couple of rags before trudging back to the shelves that are mostly empty. Only the lower shelf is full of- stuff. Looks like some old broken toys from the nurseries. Or just bits and bobs that were sitting there collecting dust? Whatever. "Wow. A double kill. I hope that's all of them." she looks between Lujayne and Niena before returning her attention to the dusty shelves again.

Viviana doubtfully glances at the three or four jars that she discovered, in the shelving until two away from Jaeni's work station. "These don't look like pears, but then again, I've only had fresh pears here and these look a different type of jar? I'm no cook..." An evil, petty little grin crosses her lips. "But Carisandra is, maybe she can check it out?"

In his eagerness to get away from the snake, Louvaen doesn't heed the warning given by that first shelf breaking nor Lujayn's call that she's got it. Still in fearful flight mode, his feet scramble higher, seeking purchase on the second board. His arms flail to get a better hold on the nearest vertical support beam. All seems well for a moment... Then there's a loud snap of breaking wood, followed by the complaining creaks of stressed nails and cracks of further splitting wood. A scared, squeaky, wailing noise comes from Louvaen's throat as the whole stand of shelving starts to tip. Boxes slide and crash first, followed by the splintering boom of the old wood exploding against the floor.

"Oh I don't think we need to open them, but it sure does explain where they got off to." Is Milani actually admitting to /not/ knowing where something in Stores was? Imagine that. "All right then, we can just pack any that look all right off to the kitchens then." Brisk again and she leans around to look Lujayn's way. "Good shot!" she calls over and starts to reach up with a cloth to dust just as the stand of shelves starts to sway alarmingly and comes crashing down. Her arms fly up over her head as dust and stray bits of wood go flying. "Oh shells! Duck everyone!"

"Carisa hates working in the kitchen just as much as /I/ do, Viviana." Jaeni calls over to the younger girl, her tone all knowing as she picks another jar up. "And really you've nev-" This is cut short when the blonde lets loose a high pitched screach of her own. Her hands go to cover her head as she ducks down, and what does that mean? It means that the "pears" she /was/ holding go crashing to the ground, exploding and leaking ooze everywhere that they land.

Skidding to a stop at the sound of her name, she turns and looks at Viviana? "What can I check?" she sees the jar she's holding and her nose wrinkles. "Right. Risa can't tell one end of a knife from the other according to the cooks and has been banished from the kitchens and- " her voice trails off as the snaps and cracks of the old wood and a weird squeaky wail catches her attention. Milan's call to duck has her spinning around and doing just that, disappearing from sight as the shelves come down.

Niena was across the room from Lujayn and Louvaen, but she ducks reflexively. After a few seconds she sees the source of the creaking and cracking wood and straightens up. Then she sighs as a jar drops and liquid -- sticky liquid at that -- splashes all over the place.
Long distance to Suraiya: Laylia flops.

Lujayn is just turning back towards Louvaen and the shelves, sweeping as she goes, but freezes in her tracks at the ominous creaking. "Huh?" She pales to see the structure toppling, motionless for a moment before her reflexes take over. "Shells!" The runner ducks to the ground, clutching her broom tightly.

As shelves and jars come crashing down, Amerie's mood is just getting better and better. With a purse of lips, she mutters something that sounds like 'disaster'. Eyeing the seeping mess, her lips purse, but she manages to make herself call out, "Everyone all right?" The shelves get a dubious, almost worried glance.

Viviana blinks, all innocence. "Oh really? I must have understood, Carisandra earlier, oh now that you mention it, Carisa, I do recall you saying that you are hopeless in the kitchens, never mind..." Continuing her dusting, she reports. "No more jars here.." As she's practically 'in' the shelf she is dusting, she's safe for now from flying wood. "Oh my..." Peeking out just as the jar smashes nearby she can only repeat. "Oh my..." as she flicks away a bit of liquid off her nose.

Laylia managed to be out of the way of the falling shelving, as well as the mess that's oozing all over the floor. "Does anyone have a mop?" She asks, figuring as much as dustpans and such were wonderful, that the gooey mess wouldn't be cleaned up by those things alone.

Coughing from the explosion of dust that blasted into her corner, first from the boxes tumbling off the broken shelf, then from the shelves themselves, Carisandra straightens up, waving a hand in front of her face to try to find some dust free air to breathe. She's covered in dust from head to toe. "Louvaen? Where are you?"

Louvaen, of course, does not have the option of ducking. Though he remains clinging to the shelves the whole ride down, somehow he manages to throw one of his arms up to curl protectively behind his neck and head. His landing is thudding enough to knock the wind out of him, but at least none of the boxes fall on him. Still, he doesn't try to jump up right away, instead melting in a mortified puddle on the floor with a quiet moan. "Nugh..." is his first try at vocalizing when Amerie calls over. "Uh huh." Refilling his lungs, the young man starts shifting his arms to push the broken shards of wood off of himself. "Here," is answered with a grunt to Carisandra. Then, "Lu, you okay?" he asks shakily after the girl who'd been nearest by.

Viviana crawls out from the shelf, balancing herself on its ledge until she can hop across, missing the pool of sticky stuff. Surprising even herself, she's off to find a mop and a bucket of hot sudsy water, dragging it back to the scene of the crime. "Better make sure there are't any splinters, Louvaen, they can smart, trust me."

Toppling shelves are definitely too close for comfort, but flying debris either misses Lujayn completely or piles around her. The few things to strike her bounce harmlessly from her back and shoulders. Her broom is the first thing to emerge after the falling of the sky, prodding splintered wood and the contents of upended boxes away from her. "I'll be all right," Is her shocked reply, straightening. A look around and a sigh- "We were going to have to rebuild them anyhow..."

"Oh .... shells n' shards ..." Milani makes big eyes at the mess, then gives herself a little shake, and steps over to offer Louvaen a hand up. "You okay? Everyone?" And she's looking around to assess the overall damage, the broken jars perhaps more of a problem than the fallen shelf. "Well. That's one less to pull down deliberately,"

Scoping out the eggies..

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 04:36:24 GMT

Laylia wanders towards the stands for a bit of a break from chores, meeting up with N'thei and Satiet, while other NPC candidates sit and look pensively at the eggs.

Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr(#510RIJQas$)
Tiers of stone carved benches rise uniformly above the hatching sands, set against both the southern and western walls of the enormous hatching grounds. The warmth radiating from the sands make the cool stone benches a welcome change, especially for sand baked feet. One section of the galleries has been roped off for special spectators, and the seats within have cushions done in the dark blue and black of the Weyr. To the east, the cavern narrows and short flights of steps lead down to the cavern entrance or to the sands themselves. From the galleries, the many dragon ledges are visible, scattered all along the hatching cavern walls.
Down on the sands, a generous clutch of eggs is guarded by the broody queen, lovingly turning them as they harden. Curious visitors and weyrfolk finished with the day's tasks come here to view the eggs, and make their own guesses to what lies within them. Firelizards perch on the benches, watching for any excitement on the sands.
To see things down on the sands, you can 'view', or to see a specific object you can 'view <object>'. +viewhelp gives you egg specific viewing help.
Contents:
N'thei
Obvious exits:
Sands Bowl

Currently at High Reaches Weyr:
The evening is clear, with a few small clouds crossing the twinkling stars. Through the whispy clouds you can see the stars. The smaller Belior winks as a waning crescent while Timor shines in half moon. A definite wind can be felt and the summer air temperature feels comfortable.

~~~

It being summer, most people have better ways to enjoy the weather than to sit in the slightly muggy galleries watching eggs harden. There are a few people on the tiers of course, mostly candidates ranged about with the pensive look that candidates tend to wear, one or two aunties enjoying what the hot cavern does for their arthritis-- and the weyrleader, on the far edge of the room at about the middle height. By himself, drinking quietly, watching a couple of girls while they braid each others' hair and make predictions about the hatching.

Having completed enough mending and laundry to be considered 'done' work for the day, Laylia makes her way towards the galleries with that same pensive expression that other candidates that come here with and wearing a skirt rather than the trousers she's been more often wearing during chores. She gives the stands a glance over, noting the candidates she recognizes with a quick smile - but her path leads towards the rails where she leans on them to stare out towards the sands. The lurking Weyrleader drinking and watching girls braid eachother's hairs is either pointedly ignored, or innocuously missed.

But being ignored never sits well. Quietly pouring himself off the seat, N'thei slinks down the tiers toward the rails and toward the redhead leaning on them. Why he picks on Laylia and no one else? Who knows. "Do you want a bit of advice?" Inquired mildly, pleasantly, just when he arrives within low-voice range of the woman; the braiding girls pause, peer, giggle, and go back to work with renewed zeal.

Laylia doesn't even look away from the sands as N'thei nears, fully aware that of all people gathered on the stands - it'd probably be him that's the one approaching. However, the girls giggling does cause her to look over her shoulder and give them a bit of a glower. She glances across N'thei and back towards the sands, to answer the question, "Whatever could you care to give me advice on, sir?" She inquires just as lowly.

N'thei takes hold of the top rail with both hands, stretches his arms out to it, leans against it with his weight perched on to his toes. He presents his back to the giggling girls, hides from them any glimpse of his expression; probably wise since now he's wearing an easily misread smirk while he looks across the sands, not really at Laylia. "I have the nagging feeling there's an insult implied in that response, miss. We're still not friendly then?" So pleasant a tone!

"I never said that, sir." Laylia says with a much more polite tone than she had before, and then adds, "My apologies, I guess I'm a little more stressed than I care to admit even to myself. I didn't mean to snap." She offers warmly, and lifts her hands to pull her hair back from her face and up into a runner tail that it wasn't in before. "Really, though. What advice do you want to give to me? I'm curious, now."

The charitable moment has passed? N'thei maintains the same smirking expression, the smile bleeding into his tone; "Stressed? Because of those?" Chin raised, the wobble of his jaw gestures toward the eggs, made even clearer by the unreadable glance he passes over the lot of them then brings back around to land upon Laylia. Quiet gray eyes do pry.

On the sands, Those eggs N'thei indicates sit, still, while their watchful mother is curled a distance away from them.

Turning her attention to the clutch of eggs, Laylia falls silent for a long moment before even answering the question. "Yes, mostly because of those." She says, drawing in a long breath and then letting it out slowly. "So, are you going to give me that advice, now?" She asks, turning her slate blue eyes to meet his inquringly.

Oh, let's just be honest; "Probably not." N'thei can smile, can shrug an apology, can't hide the merry flicker that tinges his expression. "Rumor has it that you were a little shaken up after 'fall in one breath and accepted search in the next. Strike you as strange at all?" He sounds plainly curious, unaccusing. He's gone back to looking at the sands in the process, hard to say if that's a look at the eggs now or Teonath or just nothing.

Laylia sighs at him, truly expecting that he wouldn't be offering her any help. She just looks away from him and towards the gold hoarding over her brood, and remains silent for such a long time he might wonder if she was going to answer at all. "Perhaps it pleases me to stay here a little longer, and accepting candidacy is a way of doing that." She says, and then adds a moment later, "I'm getting too old, you know, and was left standing on the sands once before. It's unlikely there's a dragon shelled out there for me." She adds in a tone that is practically hopeful of that fact.

On the sands, There's a shadow lingering about the exit off the sands, preceded by the sound of boot heels, and after that pause where the shaded figure seems uncertain whether to step out or not, Satiet emerges, dressed in the loose garb of a humid Istan summer; a color sarong dress that's slung over one shoulder. Pale eyes drift across the sands, from queen to eggs, and then eggs to the galleries, dancing over each of the visitors and halting at the sight of N'thei and Laylia. A hand lifts in acknowledgement.

"If you expect me to have a pep-talk about fate and luck and maybe your lifemate is out there..." N'thei files his teeth across his lower lip in the recess between his opener and the inevitable follow-up, a thoughtful tell. "You could have stayed anyway, you know. As long as you can do something useful." Said while he tosses a look back to where he left his mended jacket folded over the bench. Right as he looks back, Satiet-in-sarong comes into frame and he adds, "Suppose everyone has their reasons though. What will you do if you don't Impress?" No gesture returns the Weyrwoman's greeting but it would take a blind man to miss the way his eyes attach to the woman on the sands.

"If you expect me to have a pep-talk about fate and luck and maybe your lifemate is out there..." N'thei files his teeth across his lower lip in the recess between his opener and the inevitable follow-up, a thoughtful tell. "You could have stayed anyway, you know. As long as you can do something useful." Said while he tosses a look back to where he left his mended jacket folded over the bench. Right as he looks back, Satiet-in-sarong comes into frame and he adds, "Suppose everyone has their reasons though. What will you do if you don't Impress?" No gesture returns the Weyrwoman's greeting but it would take a blind man to miss the way his eyes attach to the woman on the sands.

Laylia rolls her eyes at the first statement, shaking her head. "No, I don't want a pep-talk. I don't even need one. Perhaps there is a small part of me that's hopeful, but it's not something I've dreamed about - and after that 'fall?.." She says, lifting a hand to Satiet in return for the acknowledgement in their direction, she murmurs, "It's actually pretty frighting to think about." She then shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not sure yet what I'll do; chances are I'll go back home to Rocky Flats." For N'thei's locking of eyes on Satiet, she doesn't pay too much attention to it.

On the sands, Honing in on the hand Laylia lifts, the slender woman traipses across in her high-fashion of utilitarian boots and summer dress, making imprints in the sands until she reaches the bottom of the stone-carved steps into the galleries. It's when she reaches the base that a slim hand rests on the railing and her sharpish chin lifts to precede a low, cool greeting: "Good evening." Casually, Satiet's feet wriggle out of her boots one at a time, until she's standing barefoot on the first step up from the heated sand.

Derision; "Go back home and be a seamstress at Rocky Flats?" N'thei really doesn't need to add the little snort at the end of that question to convey his mockery, but he tosses it on just to seal the deal. "Hanged if that wouldn't scare me more than a few thread scars. Just as likely these rogue 'falls will be over before they see a fight." 'They' with a nod to the sands, with a smile that flashes-and-dies along with the arrival of a certain pair of bare feet. A quiet finish for Laylia-- "Shouldn't worry your pretty head over-much about it. --Evening."

Watching Satiet cross the sands with far more interest than she has for her chatting companion, Laylia adverts her eyes once in a while from her so she won't appear like she's staring. "Perhaps. Are you growing to enjoy having me around? You almost sound disappointed, in your own way." She inquires, pushing herself up to a more proper standing position as the Weyrwoman makes her way up the steps from the sands. "Good evening. Should I be calling you sir, too?" She asks, arching a brow at the other woman before scrunching her nose a little at N'thei. "Thank you for that wonderful advice." She says in a partially defeated tone.

On the sands, The pace of her approach allows for the fact that she must have heard some of the conversation. But whether it's out of polite regard of their private conversation, or just utter apathy on her part for the trials and tribulations of candidacy, Satiet doesn't broach or inquire further than a simple lift of her brows at Laylia, that segues into a look of askance for the Weyrleader. When she speaks, it's simple and cool, "If you must. But if I look like a sir to you, perhaps we should ramp up your remedial harper lessons, Laylia."

N'thei sounds disappointed? "Do I." A nod responds to Laylia's defeated gratitude, so pleasant and helpful that he must have missed and/or ignored her sarcasm. "Don't mention it. I like to impart a little wisdom where I can." The gender-specific address belonging to the weyrwoman will have to be decided without his input, not even a raised eyebrow or tricked smile while he follows the conversation with his eyes.

Laylia lowers her gaze to the flooring of the stands, drawing out a short sigh and adding, "Ma'am, I meant no disrespect. Some female riders prefer one over the other, or so I've noticed." She clasps her hands behind her back, and adds while lifting her gaze to look between both the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman. "Remedial lessons are not required, and my head isn't full of air; it's full of imparted wisdom." She says and offers a quirk of a grin at N'thei's comment.

On the sands, "Good then. Imparted nuggets of wisdom, even from fools, is still worth something to someone, yes?" Pleasant enough, if still cool, Satiet twists a thin smile to the candidate. Not that the Weyrleader is a fool, of course not. Pleasantries dry into a light sarcasm. "And congratulations on the happy occasion of your acceptance of Search. I'm sure your sister is pleased?" But whether Shanlee's pleased or not, a light dances bright in the weyrwoman's blue eyes, amused.

A deep, silent nod agrees; imparted wisdom. N'thei looks the sage part while he's quiet, while he wears a light smile that's elevated to imperviousness. Like Laylia, he gives the ground a glance when words like fool come into play, raises them back to the candidate with a helpless-looking shrug-- and not a word. Silence is the better part of valor?

"Thank you, ma'am. However, if she is or not, I'm uncertain. I haven't had much opportunity to meet up with her since then." Laylia says earnestly, her lips upturning a little more at the Weyrwoman's pleasant comment her gaze flickering to the Weyrleader for a moment. She looks out to the sands once more, and then thumbs in the direction of the stairs leading back to the bowl. "If you both will excuse me, I think I should tuck in before it gets too late. I do like to be well rested for the days activities." She says, and without further ado, heads off to leave.

Kitchen duty isn't so bad....

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:25:58 GMT

Laylia tends to dishes right after dinner, and Louvaen comes to chat while waiting for some hidework for his chores of the day.

Hunting Tunnelsnakes...

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 18:36:53 GMT

Laylia hunts tunnelsnakes, rambo style, and talks to L'ian about hatchings and children... and then Carisandra and Fraya join in on the fun.

Central Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr(#17755RIJM)
Though certain of the Weyr's supplies are stored at the places where they are used, most are kept here, in the central storage complex. A series of caverns grouped around a central corridor, the complex is cut on the grand scale necessary to hold all the items a full and active Weyr needs.
The main corridor is wide and tall enough to admit a laden wagon. The walls are lined with heavy wooden doors, their wide spacing evidence of the size of the rooms behind them. Each of the doors features a posted inventory and map of its room's contents, and there are small piles of returned items beside several, waiting until someone has the time to reshelve them properly. There is a set of hardwood shelves available on a space of wall between two of the doors where people can place items when they are not sure which storeroom they belong in. Scanning the door signs, you note cold stores, dry food stores, rooms for textiles and furnishings, the records room, and the supply closet.
To the south, the corridor opens out to the lower caverns.
L'ian is here with you.
(Places code and +views (see '+view information'!) are implemented here.)
Contents:
L'ian
Obvious exits:
Records Room Lower Caverns

Fraya

Fraya's not a tall woman, nor is she small. She stands at about 5'5", give or take a few, with an average build and lightly tanned skin. There are no specific features on her body that makes her different, but on her face there is a small scar at the corner of her pale pink lips. Her hair is a light shade of brown, puffed out and thrown everywhere with no sense of control. Even when strewn about wildly, her hair is down just below her shoulder blades. Should her hair be drenched with water, these light brown locks reach down to her midback. Normally allowed to fly freely rather than pulled back, her hair remains unmaintained as not to deal with the frustration of maintaining "neatness". These crazy and curly locks frame an oval face with high and round cheekbones, with her lean form they give her a bit of a "puffy" cheeked look. Her large, round eyes are an off shade of brown with hints of green and often appear droopy from not recieving quite enough sleep.
         With her form, she wears rather loose fitting clothing, nothing to stand out. She wears earthy shades, deep green to brown and tan. Wearing mostly pants and shirts, she doesn't seem to be one for skirts and dresses.
         On her arm she wears a knot of Candidacy for High Reaches Weyr.

L'ian

         L'ian, now somewhere in his twenties, is almost unrecognizable from the pudgy boy he once was. His dark hair has been cut short but it's his icey blue eyes that are usually his most distinguishing feature.
         He is now wearing well fitting riding leathers in a very dark burnished brown. His feet are also clad in brown: old and worn but well cared for boots cover his feet. His only adornments are the pin of a gold firelizard he wears on his jacket and the ring he wears on his finger. His knot shows him to be from High Reaches and the patch on his jacket identifies him as a member of Glacier Wing, for those who would know. The bronze twined through his knot shows off his lifemate's color. (+detail available)
Carrying:
Jupiter
Family Portrait

Carisandra

         A tall, slender girl of about 5'10" who retains some of the awkwardness the sudden height has given her. Long arms and legs are muscular, yet slender. Her oval face holds large, deep set eyes of a vivid dark brown, a long, slender nose, and a straight jawline that looks both delicate and stubborn at the same time. A wide mouth with full lips curve into a small smile that always seems to be there. The long, thick straight dark brown hair glints with highlights of reddish gold that blazes when she's in the sunlight.
         Wearing a simple dark brown dress that is long sleeved with a small, shallow v-neck. A simple belt in brown wherhide fits snugly across her waist, with a small belt knife clipped to it and a small pouch hanging next to the belt knife. The cut of the dress is almost severe, but there is an elegant line in it's simplicity. Sturdy boots adorn her long feet.

~~~~~

An assortment of things is piled up near the entrance of the storage room - things being a net, some traps, and a few metal things that somehow Laylia believes she's going to use while hunting tunnelsnakes. She's wearing breeches rather than a skirt for the day and has her hair pulled back rambo style with a headband to deal with today's chore. Apparently she's had a little success, as there's one dead tunnelsnake in a bucket over by the pile of 'things'. She, however, is on her knees and looking under one of the shelving units with some glows to see if anything is hiding under it.

L'ian exits the records room with a couple hides, and shifts from reading one to the next as he walks. He's not really paying attention to where he's going, but it must have been just enough not to step on any of the hunting equipment or Laylia herself. He stops in times and lowers the hides down to his side, clutched in one hand. "Hello, sorry I didn't see you. Laylia, right? Snowasis?" He looks around her now, noticing for the first time what she's doing. "You're a visitor, aren't you? What are you doing killing tunnelsnakes?" He sees the knot now - observant, isn't he? - and nods. "Ah. Congratulations."

Laylia remains kneeling on the floor, though she does turn to see just who is coming through the store room. She gives a vague look of disappointment as she says, "Well, that one's scared off now." She says, and then lifts the glows to get a better look at the person looking down at her. "Oh, L'ian, right? I'd never forget those blue eyes." She says with a bit of a snicker, and then sets the glows basket back down on the ground with a sigh. "I'm not very good at this, I hope they don't expect many caught. And thank you - I was hardly expecting to be searched, and I probably sounded like a fool when I told I'daur that I was already standing when he asked me."

L'ian smiles. "Already standing? That's a good thing. It doesn't make you a fool, just very literal." He squats down to look under the shelving unit she had been stalking. "Sorry about that. And no, I don't think they necessarily expect you to get many. Just to occupy your time and save them the time of trying. Overall the candidates do a good enough job." He waves towards the dead one. "See? You've done pretty good. I never caught one. Didn't have a stomach for it as a child."

Laylia shifts out of the way so he can get a good look under it, even nudging the glows a little closer so that it'll illuminate the area more. "Some candidates more than others, I'd imagine. I'm not scared of them or anything, but it's not like I'd go out of my way to try and catch them on my own either." She says, and just sits herself on the ground more fully with her legs on either side of her. "You must have been young when you Impressed, then? I fear I'm probably the oldest candidate in the entire class. There's a couple not too far behind me in age though, which is quite nice. Not all a bunch of children."

L'ian chuckles and sits down as well. "I was one of the 'bunch of children'. About twelve, though it's hard to imagine being that young. I wasn't scared of them either, but I didn't like blood at all. My mother wanted me to be a healer; not a good choice for me." He folds the hides and puts them in a pocket. "So it was I'daur who searched you? How do you like being a candidate?" He grins a little. "First you were just here for a visit, suddenly you've got chores heaped on you. Probably an ambigious situation to be in."

"Twelve? That's half my age." Laylia says with a hint of a frown, but it's followed quickly by a bit of a snicker at the thought of someone who dislikes blood becoming a healer. "That definitely doesn't sound like the best choice." She agrees, and then nods a little, "Yeah, it was I'daur, and it's not so bad. I've met a couple of the other candidates already. The chores don't bother me much either, at least I'm contributing while I'm here.. right?"

L'ian nods. "I didn't mind the chores, partly for that reason, partly because I was doing it with friends. It was a good group of candidates. Satiet, the Senior Weyrwoman, impressed with me. My best friend of the class didn't, but she went on to become a Headwoman. For me, it was nanny I liked the most since I was planning on being one if I didn't impress. When I could I traded the bloodier duties for things other people didn't like to do." He smiles as he remembers. "The sight of blood used to make me queasy, I've had to get over it since impressing. There's a lot of that to deal with when you're feeding your lifemate yourself. My mother was going to become a healer, but gave it up to handfast my father and stay at the cothold with him. She never regretted it but I think she wanted me to do what she didn't. But two out of three of my younger brothers are now Healers, so that made her happy."

"I don't know many people other than Niena very well yet. It'll take time, but time is what we have isn't it?" Laylia asks, though it's a rhetorical question that doesn't really require an answer. She listens and then shifts to peek under the shelf to see if any of the tunnelsnakes have returned. "Not supposed to trade chores, I suppose each of them has their purpose and all. Like this one to get you used to seeing blood - if you Impress and need to feed your lifemate." She then looks back up at him and then asks, "Do you see much of your family anymore? Shanlee barely visits us, but I suppose she's so busy that she just doesn't have time."

L'ian smiles. "Niena got searched, too? I've met her a few times. Funny thing is, she'll still have time in the nursery, just this time as a candidate." He grins. "You're not supposed to trade chores, but nobody wants a fainting candidate, either. Not that I actually ever did faint, just kept away from it as much as possible." He nods at your question. "Yes, I see my family when I can. Not as much as I would if I didn't have a daughter of my own, but definitely more than I would if I had settled away from home and wasn't a dragonrider. It's nice to be able to see them when I can, and even though it's not every day or maybe even every week, I do see them regularly. I have dinner there once or twice a month at least." He pauses for a second, smiling at you. "What's it like being an older candidate. I'm not saying your old, don't get me wrong. But it must be very different than doing it when I did."

Laylia nods a little, "Yes, she got searched too." She says, though she hasn't had much time to chat to the once-nanny. She listens to what's being told to her, keeping quiet until everything's said. "Do you spend much time with the mother of your child, then? Are you two seeing eachother still?" She asks, curiously and then scrunches her nose. "You know, I've nothing to compare it to. I was never searched when I was young, and it's likened to being a little out of place when you look at the twelve and fourteen turn old kids doing the same chores you're doing. I try and do many of my chores alone."

L'ian nods, listening intently to what Laylia answers with. "That makes sense, it must be strange. I think it's strange either way though, so that's something you have in common with them. Even though it's strange for different reasons. They're just starting out, don't really know themselves or what they're like and suddenly there's the prospect of being two instead of one. When you're older you know who you are, and you're faced with the prospect of all that changing in a flash." He smiles with a shrug. "Sometimes I think too much." He shakes his head when Laylia asks about the mother. "No, we were weyrmated at the time but not anymore. I should have figured out that it was inevitable, considering she wouldn't move full-time to the Weyr. She's the best friend I mentioned earlier, that didn't impress and went on to become a Headwoman."

"You do think too much. I'm not putting too much faith into the fact my lifemate could be shelled out on the sands. I worry about what might happen at the hatching - some I hear are pretty violent. I'm glad to be helping around the weyr for now, after I saw the results of the last fall." Laylia says with a faint shudder, and then reaches for a stick she has close at hand to sweep under the shelving to see if there's a tunnelsnake hiding in there, might as well get some work done while she chats. "Ah, that's too bad. At least you still see your daughter though. That's more than some people do."

L'ian smiles. "I couldn't help but see her. She's terrific." He shrugs. "You never know what'll happen on those sands. You might impress, you never know. There had to be a reason a dragon thought to bring you in." He grins. "Or move you a little ways away in your case. As for what it's like on there, just remember to be careful and watch out for things. Better safe than sorry, and back off if a dragon gets too close. If it's meant for you, backing off a little for safety isn't going to convince it otherwise. It also helps to have friends on the sands with you. I don't know if you're into hand holding, but when you're twelve that tie to other people does help with the nervousness."

"Sounds like you're a great father. I'm not quite ready to be a mother yet, kind of came here to get away from my mother's matchmaking for a little while." Laylia admits her reason beyond visiting Shanlee for coming to the weyr for longer than a sevenday before she was searched. She shrugs a little, "We'll see what happens on the sands, for now all I can do is the chores that are allotted to me and make it through the hatching. I think I'm still quick enough to skirt out of the way of a dragon. I have met some of the other candidates, Leova seems pretty nice."

L'ian chuckles and shakes his head. "Maybe I'm lucky I was searched young, that my mother couldn't try matching me up with anybody." He thinks for a moment. "My younger brothers might be approaching that age now, where she'll start to see a new daughter for her family in each one. And grandchildren of course." He shakes his head. "Don't think I've met that one, but I've been pretty busy. Maybe I'll see her around."

"She tried with Shanlee, but then she Impressed her green here." Laylia muses, but then shifts to look under the other shelves behind her to see if there's tunnelsnakes hiding under there - no luck, however. "You've already given her one grandchild, and I'm sure you'll give her more with time. You just got to find the right person and all. I can tell you really like kids, and while I don't mind them, I'm certainly not having ten of them."

L'ian smiles. "Well, we don't need you to populate the weyr all by yourself. It's up to you whether a large family is right for you, or none at all." He leans over to look under a different shelf and points under it. "There might be on back there, thought I saw movement. So, what kind of person did your mother try to match you and your sister with? I'm sorry I don't know, but what type of place is Rocky Flats?"

Laylia shakes her head a little, "No, but you'd said you wanted a large family, which just goes to prove I'm certainly not the right girl for you." She says, putting it all together for him. She then reaches for her stick to prod around under the shelf where L'ian pointed out the movement and shifts to peer under it with the glows. "Men that are well endowed with land but not much in the way of looks. My family are llama farmers, so... Well, yeah. I'm a bit of a country girl."

L'ian smiles. "Being from the country is not a bad thing. I'm from a cothold myself. No llamas, though. That sounds interesting compared to regular old crops." He nods. "Yeah, I want a large family. But that's me. You can be who you want to be." He follows the glow of the glows as he peers under the shelf again. "Yeah, there's definitely something back there."

Fraya meanders in from the lower caverns.
Fraya has arrived.

Laylia is peering under a shelving unit looking for something there, with a basket of glows that she's using to try and see under it. She's got breeches on for this dirty work, and her hair pulled back rambo style as she hunts tunnelsnakes. She's silent for a moment before she jabs at one of the critters, which makes an odd noise - but still, she's not victorious enough to have gotten it out from under there either. "Shard it. I hate these things." She gripes, and then looks back at L'ian, who's looking under the shelf as well. "I know I can be who I want to be. That was never really a question." She says with a bit of a snicker.

L'ian smiles. "I can see not. Your mother would have had a hard time convincing you otherwise, I think." L'ian is sitting on the floor of the large storeroom, peering under the same shelf as Laylia. "Maybe it's enough that we know where it's hiding, and you should set the trap there and come back later? It'll probably come back once it feels it's safe again."

Carisandra strolls in from the lower caverns.
Carisandra has arrived.

In pops a woman, her hair frazzled and her eyes wide. She releases a breath. "Oh, finally.. I'm rid of those.. /children/." A small whine escapes her lips and she runs her hands over her face as she grumbles to herself. Slowly, Fray takes a deep breath and composes herself with a smile and she glances around the room she's found herself in. Saying nothing, she simply watches the two leaning under the shelf with a quirk of her brow but not questioning their actions.

"What I wouldn't give for a feline to help me hunt the tunnelsnakes. I'll try the trap." Laylia muses to L'ian, but is sadly short a cat for such a sport. She lifts her head quickly to see who's come in, and bangs it on a shelf in the process - there's no curse though, just a stifled sssff sound which she rubs her head with a hand as she looks to see who's come. "Nanny helping then, for today? This is a good place to escape, too much dust for little ones."

L'ian sits up, though he's still sitting on the floor, and looks at Fraya with a smile. "Nanny, I suppose?" He notices the candidate knot and ahs. "My mistake, nanny duty?" He turns to Laylia and nods. "A feline would help, maybe someone has a good one we could borrow? I think there's a bluerider who has one. Keeps bringing things back to his weyr, so the cat must be pretty good at hunting."

Fraya peers at the two, squeaking as Laylia hits her head. "Oh dear! Are you okay? Ouch..." Her face scrunches up in a look of concern before it slowly relaxes and she nods. "Yes.. Nanny helping. I don't like children much at all. I positively /hate/ this duty. Oh well.." She giggles softly, tilting her head. "I wish I had a feline.. I knew a person with a feline, they had so many tunnelsnakes around their home. They were just really unlucky. Someone gave them that feline and all it ever did was catch those pests." Giggling more, she looks over the two. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine, I've got a hard head." Laylia assures, and is only left rubbing her head for a moment longer before her hand drops back to her side. "You should try talking L'ian into covering for you, he positively adores children." She teases, nudging at the bronzerider and then smirking at Fraya. "Though, I think they'd notice he wasn't even a candidate - and I'm sure he's got far more important duties to tend to than coddling children. If you're bored and want to help, I'm not about to turn anyone away - just be careful, these things can be mean."

L'ian smiles. "I would certainly rather have nanny duty than tunnelsnake hunting to do, but to each your own. I'm sure Laylia would appreciate the help. I haven't been much. I scared her last prey away." He points to the shelf they've been looking under. "I think he's under that one, now. And if you do get overwhelmed with little duty, do ask for help from someone. Nothing's ever as bad when you've got help. I hear Niena was searched, she might have some advice since she is one of the nannies at the Weyr."

Carisandra walks into the cavern with a glance over her shoulder as if to see who might be pursuing her. Slowing as she enters the cavern, she blinks and comes to a halt. "Oh, hi." sounds as lame as it looks. Ah, talking nanny stuff. Not a clue there. Noting at least one person she hasn't met before, she adds "I'm Carisandra."

Fraya giggles softly, shaking her head. "That still would've hurt. Even just a little.. That or I am a sissy." She winks then glances at L'ian, blinking. "Sir, we're not allowed to do that, are we? If we are would you go take care of those children for me?" She asks curiously, smiling playfully. "Well.. Maybe he can slip off his knot and call himself by another name. Though... I'm sure someone'd realize it's him and he'd get in trouble..." Tapping her chin, she seems to consider the possibilites before giggling. "Oh. I met her last night.. Maybe I could get her to switch with me.." As Carisandra enters, she grins brightly. "Hello again Carisandra! How are you doing? You know that letter.. I never found who it went to." A sigh of dismay and she glances around the storage room.

"I'm Laylia, sorry.. where /are/ my manners?" She asks, and then snickers a little at the ploy suggested by Fraya. "I don't think that'd be a wise idea - switching, unless you talked to someone first. I don't know what kind of reprocussions there might be, but..." She says, and then glances to where L'ian's mentioned. The tunnelsnake that's been recently accosted by Laylia with sticks has apparently gotten quite unhappy and crawled out from under the shelf to exact it's revenge - or at least, try to swipe at whatever's closest. Unfortunately for Fraya, it appears to be her ankles that it's going after. "Behind you, behind /you/!" She says, pointing at the thing and expecting someone who's a little quicker on their feet to get to it before she'd manage to.

L'ian nods to another newcomer. "Nice to meet you Carisandra, my name is L'ian, Rojieth's rider." He smiles and shakes his head at Fraya. "Me doing your chores would probably get us both in trouble. But if you have questions, or need help or advice, you shouldn't hesitate to ask. That's how you learn." As Laylia calls up he scoots up off the ground. He doesn't really have anything to handle a tunnelsnake so he kicks the bucket towards the animal to scare it away from the other candidate. Not at all manly a response to a snake. He watches it scurry back under the shelves. "I think that's why I was never good at hunting these things. Out of sight out of mind."

Carisandra quirks an eyebrow. "The tunnelsnake?" she asks as she finally spots the thing. To Fraya, she asks "Do you still have the letter or did you leave it with the headwoman?" She watches the snake scurry under the shelves again. The quirked eyebrow becomes a frown. "Are those the shelves we just put together? And does anyone have a firelizard that can come help? They're great at getting tunnel snakes. At least, the ones at home are."

"I should go see if Shan has a firelizard I can borrow, I think she might." Laylia says, pushing herself to her feet and dusting herself off. Unfortunately, some of that dust might very well end up going towards L'ian inadvertently. "I think I'll go do that now, before I waste too much time trying to do it on my own without much luck. I've been at it for a while now, and only got one." She says, and frowns slightly as she moves to leave. "Anyhow, L'ian, thanks for coming to help me. You other two for the offer, also. I'll be back once I hunt down Shanlee."

Fraya nods her head in greeting. "I'm Fraya.. Well met Laylia and L'ian Oh, drat. I suppose we'd get in trouble for that. Maybe extra chores.. Or that same chore for a sevenday." A shudder and she winks playfully. "I won't do it, I'd prefer not to get in trouble in my few first days here..." She trails off and she lets out a small squeal of fright, quickly moving away from where the tunnelsnake is and hurries behind the first person in her path. At the bucket kick from L'ian she giggles helplessly. "I don't know if it'll stay gone with that bucket around... I left that letter with the Headwoman. She gave me an odd look but took it anyway." A small smile and she peers around for that tunnelsnake. "Hurry with that firelizard.." A wave towards the woman as she takes off, as well.

Candidacy's first night...

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 05:20:53 GMT

Laylia got searched, great! :D But, I'daur's directions leave a little to be desired. She finds her way there none the less, and looks for a place to get some sleep - it's been a long day!

Candidate Barracks, High Reaches Weyr(#430RAIJs$)
This is a large, high ceilinged cavern cut from the rock. There are rows of depressions on the floor, couches for the young dragons who will soon live here. For now, cots have temporarily been brought in for the candidates while they bide their time, waiting for the exciting day when the eggs will hatch. Men keep to one side and women to the other. At the foot of each cot lies a small press for storing clothing and other small items.
The cavern has been decorated with old dragon tapestries hung on the walls, their colors slightly faded. A threadbare rug in the middle of the room bears the emblem of High Reaches Weyr, a mountain range in black on a dark blue field. A few low tables, chairs, and pillows have been scattered about the room, and baskets of glows placed strategically throughout the room keep the place well-lit. An opening in the southwest leads out into the Bowl.
There are +views available. (Type '+view' and '+view <subject>')
Contents:
Leova
Obvious exits:
Weyrling Training Room Bowl

Leova

     At 5'5", it's that much easier for Leova to blend in with a crowd, particularly with boxy clothing to conceal her curves. She doesn't often fuss with the rest either, her hair messy and auburn, tangling down to her shoulders; tawny skin is further browned by sun and wind, doing little to soften the feline cast to her features, and her dark-fringed eyes are the yellow amber of a masterminer's prize.
     She's dressed the same as she had for stable work: heavy boots that see daily polish, plain brown pants that let her stride lengthen, and an off-white tunic belted with an array of tools. A thick fleece jacket has a candidate's knot on one shoulder. (+detail available) (+detail available)

~~~

Leova enters at something near to a stomp, except that it also involves a limp, and her tunic has suspicious stains down the front and side. "Clean," she mutters under her breath. "Clean, clean, clean."

Laylia is currently sitting on her knees in front of the press at the end of the cot she's claiming for herself. Clothing is being tucked into it, carefully folded and then set inside without much ceremony to it. Her hair is then tended to by pulling it back into a runner tail as she looks at the new arrival. She offers a quick smile and a curious, "Did something happen to you?"

Startled, Leova misses a step and looks over, eyes narrowed as if that would help her identify Laylia. And then she lets out a breath. "Children. Many, many children. Many, many, many children. Gotten nursery duty yet?"

Laylia tosses the last of her things into the press, and then gets up so she can better assess the other woman with a long look. "Childr.." Oh, right she shakes her head a couple times, "Oh.. No, but I don't mind children. I was just asked to stand not very long ago, so I'm just getting settled. My name's Laylia."

"Leova," she replies, bypassing a chair and heading for her own press as though to pause would halt her entirely. "Lucky you. Not minding. Where did you live before?"

"I was here visiting my sister, but I'm truly from Rocky Flats." Laylia offers politely, and scrunches her nose a little at the quality of sleep she's likely to get here. "They really do scrunch people in here quite tightly, don't they? I don't mind children because I'm older than a few of my siblings, so I helped as much as I could."

"Rocky Flats." It wavers just on the edge of maybe-she-knows-it maybe-she-doesn't. Leova crouches, carefully, by her press and starts picking whatever comes up first off the stacks: some white, some brown, all mostly like what she's got on. Hopefully minus the stains. "And you hadn't had enough of them. After that. Good for you."

"I wouldn't say I'd like to be surrounded by a lot of them, but I don't find them utterly unappealing either." Laylia says, looking at Leova while she searches for clothes that aren't all covered in stains. "Where did you live before? Rocky Flats really isn't too terribly far from here, if you didn't know. It's pretty small, so..."

Leova's hands are clean, at least, scrubbed to the nails. "Much like here?" she asks, tucking the white clothes into the brown clothes before she stands. "Tillek. The area, but the Hold, now. That's a big Hold."

"Weather-wise, not much different. But, like here in size and activity? Not really." Laylia tries to figure out if that's the answer being fished for as she tests out the pillow that came with the cot by fluffing it on her lap. "Oh yes, Tillek is big. How long have you been here? Can't have been too long, right?"

As Leova's heading back Laylia's way, "What's it do? Crops?" While the other girl is paying attention to the pillow, her own gaze lingers furtively on the details of her fine cotton apparel, the bow on the waistband and the cut of the sleeves. Leova doesn't look long, though, and when she lowers her head as though to examine a fold in her own clothes, her hair conveniently falls about her face. "Not long. Since the night the eggs were laid. Think L'sen said it was then, anyway."

Laylia tosses the pillow back at the head of the cot, and then slumps down into it with a bit of a sigh. "My family herds llamas, but there's crops and other useful things that come from Rocky Flats." She says, and then sprawls on the cot a little more. "L'sen, huh? I don't know that rider, but he's probably right. Hey, mornings are early here, right? I think I should probably try and get some sleep soon."

Leova pronounces, "Neiveth," with the proud air of someone who's practiced it. "That's his blue... almost a purple blue, unless that was just its being dark. Maybe." She looks back at Laylia, "I'll try to keep it down when I come back in, then. Not too loud. Tell me about Rocky Flats some other time?"

Laylia grins a little and nods, pushing herself up so she might get into some nightclothes before crawling into the cot for some sleep. "He sounds lovely, maybe sometime I'll get to see him, too." She says, and then smiles, "Alright, and thank you very much. It was nice meeting you, Leova."

But, I am standing...?

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 02:28:45 GMT

Sometimes... some people just can't be friendly with eachother. Personality clashes and what have you. I'daur just sits back and encourages them to fight, what a man. Then, asks Laylia to stand right after she gets all upset about the results of the last threadfall.

Diving Cliff, High Reaches Weyr
the worn, stone steps that disappear into this flat area resting high above the waters below. Huddled families of rocks, boulders and pebbles lay strewn around the edges of the clifftop. The sandy center of the half-plateau seems to have been cleared of any debris and the area provides enough room, sitting or standing, for many people. A small journey to the edge of the precipice reveals the true use of this place. The deep, midnight-blue waters of the lake shimmer below in the setting sun's light, and the shorn patch of rock near the edge proves that many a person has felt the thrill of a swift flight from this clifftop, only to be enveloped by the chilly waters of the Weyr lake.
The early evening crystal clear as the sun sets over the western rim of the bowl. The strong winds howl through the bowl and the spring air temperature feels comfortable.
It looks like it might be fun to 'jump' or 'dive' off the cliff into the water.
Contents:
Amerie
Obvious exits:
Path

The early evening crystal clear as the sun sets over the western rim of the bowl. The strong winds howl through the bowl and the spring air temperature feels comfortable.

The evening after the weyr was abuzz with a fall, something that so far, Laylia hasn't really experienced much of. Injured dragons were seen getting taken to the dragon infirmary, injured riders as well. But, one place of relative solitude that she's found is the diving cliff, where she sits on the edge of the cliff and looks down at the water below. There's a small stack of pebbles beside her, that so far are being thrown to their demise in the lake waters. She's dragged out a small blanket from the stores to keep herself warm as she sits there and thinks.

The solitude of the diving cliff is indeed relative, though thankfully, the weather isn't warm enough for those interrupting to be a pack of kids running for a dive. Instead, there's only a dark figure that might have been spotted skirting the shoreline moments before. Amerie drifts up the cliff, with a bright red shawl wrapped around her lighter dress against the chill; as her sharp gaze falls on Laylia, there's a moment of indecision before lips purse and the young woman continues up, closer to cliff's edge. "Can you actually see them fall in from here?"

Not paying terribly much attention to her surroundings, Laylia nearly jumps when Amerie's voice asks that question. "Shards! You almost scared the life out of me." She says, and then offers a quick shake of her head in response to the question. "No, not at all. It just feels nice to drop things down into the darkness." She muses, tossing yet another of the small pile beside her over the edge of the cliff. She looks up to see who it is, and then inquires, "Amerie, right?"

"I think if they were larger, you might see the ripples," Amerie notes smoothly, glancing over the pebbles before looking back to Laylia, an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. "Right," she agrees, after a moment. "And my apologies for scaring you - I ought to know better when someone's on the edge of a cliff - though at the same time, you ought to pay more attention. What if someone decided to push you? It wouldn't take much, just- " The assistant headwoman mimes pushing lightly with two fingers, though well away from the redhead, who perches on the edge of the cliff with a blanket. The darker woman is wrapped in a red shawl, standing nearby. "It's Laylia? I think that's better than 'Shanlee's sister'?"

"If they were larger, and I hit someone down there rather than just the water - it'd probably not be very appreciated." Laylia reasons, and tosses yet another from her pile over the edge before she's nudged at like so. She purses her lips at the recommendation and shrugs her shoulders lightly, "If you really wanted to, yes, you probably could." She says, placing her hands on either side of herself to maintain a better balance than she was before. She keeps the blanket she snagged from the stores around herself, and sighs a little. "Yes, better than 'Shanlee's sister'. You know, it used to be the other way around, she was known as my sister and not the other way around." She says with more than an ounce of chagrin.

Amused, showing it in the faint traces of a smile around the corners of her mouth, Amerie asks, "Do you think size of stone will matter when it reaches velocity?" Looking over the edge with only a little trepidation, she continues, "Well. It's not as if anyone is swimming this early in any case." She glances back to Laylia as she's bracing herself; mildly, "I didn't say /I/ would. I said /someone/ might. And - well, she did get here first. If you had, I guess we'd all be gossiping about 'Laylia's sister'." Gossiping. You heard her!

It's not the easiest walk to make, up the rocks to the cliff's surface; despite that, I'daur still makes it now, at a reserved pace. It looks to have been a good day for him, for he's managing not to limp too much as he does so. Reaching the summit, stepping out along the rock, he notes then the two girls out at the tip, over the water, and while he pauses a moment to observe them, to look for some familiarity about them, he then heads on out toward Amerie and Laylia.

Laylia is clearly not in the mood for banter, so doesn't even grace the first question with an actual response for a moment, just a bit of a glower and then looking away from Amerie entirely. "Yes, actually I do." She answers shortly, tugging the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter as though a cold wind just whipped through when it really hadn't. "I really don't know what your problem is with me, but if you've just come up here to be difficult, then perhaps you can do it another time." She suggests, and looks over her shoulder as she gets the idea that there might be someone else approaching as well.

Amerie betrays a moment of disappointment as Laylia glowers and looks away, seeming almost irritated - but that passed, is schooled away, especially as the glance from the redhead has her looking I'daur's way. Now nothing more that vaguely bored, "It might be the difference between a wound and a crushed skull, I guess." Nose wrinkling a touch, she tells Laylia in what seems to be a sincere tone, "I'm not trying to be difficult, honestly. It's just - Well." A shrug. "My apologies."

"Just are difficult?" I'daur supplies for Amerie, with a raise of his brows as he overhears that much of their conversation. "Evening," he adds a beat later, in some approximation of politeness as he stops a couple steps back of them. "Don't lemme interrupt your little spat." He makes a wave of his hand toward the pair, for all he continues to watch them in apparent curiousity.

"If it has anything you feel against me has to do with that Weyrleader, trust me when I say I have about as much interest in him as I have for this rock." Laylia says, and demonstrates by chucking the rock over the edge before pushing herself to her feet. She brushes off as much of the dirt from the blanket as she can, and frowns a bit at I'daur's supplement to their conversation. "It's not a spat. There's no raised voices or anything. I was just looking for a quiet evening." She insists to I'daur, and takes a few steps from the cliff's edge and also away from Amerie.

Giving the Weyrlingmaster a narrowed glance, "Something like that. I'm /trying/." Amerie sounds as if she is too, put-upon with a bare thread of patience. And this is her trying to be pleasant - the poor girl has a long way to go. As Laylia speaks, the darker girl gives a blink - then, shakes her head a little, glancing down towards the lake. "No. It's more like what he said. And he's probably just hoping we'll get into a fight so he can watch." For all her tone is flat, it does lift towards the end there, perhaps close to grinning.

"'Magine that," I'daur remarks in answer to Amerie's later words on N'thei, sounding quite amused by them--possibly hopeful of that himself. To Laylia, he adds, "Sure, I can tell." And he smirks, and while she heads away from the edge, he steps toward it and moves to seat himself, with a grunt of effort. "Not running off now, are you?" he then directs toward Laylia, raising a brow.

"Hard to believe someone like you is an assistant headwoman." Laylia muses more to herself, though it's loud enough to be heard quite clearly. She doesn't attempt to evoke any more anger towards herself though, and shifts out of the way as I'daur gets himself situated on the edge. "I'm not feeling much like my presence is desired here, so yes, I was thinking it'd be best to head back inside." She says, glancing at Amerie and then back down the pathway leading back towards the lake, though no steps advance her towards that direction yet.

Archly, "I meant /you/. Sir." A little late, but Amerie at least offers a flash of a smile for I'daur - but that sharpens into a smirk when he asks after Laylia. "See?" she tells the other girl, in an aside - but then, that all drops away as the redhead speaks. Hands finding her pockets, she gives a sigh under her breath before stepping back from the precipice, lifting her chin. "/I'll/ go if someone has to. Apparently, 'someone like me' isn't all that welcome either." Arching a fine brow down the path, she folds her arms. "For someone who wants a quiet evening, you're awfully quick with the insults."

"Sure, sure," agrees I'daur, with a look over at Laylia, then Amerie as they both offer to leave. "Walk all the way up here, then everybody runs off. I see how it goes--least it'd be quieter." His brows raise again at Amerie's correction, however, and he asks, "Think I'm that much of a sleaze? Maybe I'm the one not welcome."

"You've been nothing but argumentative since you came up here, and before that - since I'd arrived here. You can't expect people to keep trying to be polite to you after failing a number of times already." Laylia says directed towards Amerie, and then tugs her blanket around her shoulders a little tighter and sits right back down where she was standing - a fair distance away from the edge of the cliff, and not entirely close to either of them. She sighs, and stews a little before admitting, "I'm just not in the mood for arguing or defending everything I say. Sorry, I'daur. What a way to ruin a perfectly fine evening, listening to people bicker."

Now they're all offering to leave, and Amerie looks a little like she went out to pick flowers and just wound up with a big handful of poison ivy. Closing her eyes for a beat and lifting fingers to her temple, she lets out a breath, then tells them both flatly, "I'm going to go back to saying a lot less." And she does, finishing with two comments; one for I'daur, then next for Laylia. "I thought it was funny. And I didn't think I was being argumentative, hence my /apology/. Which was unaccepted." She's not too broken up about it, looking as if it's expected - then gives a shrug and starts looking for a place to lean and be emo.

"Fight'd cheer me right up," I'daur volunteers, fulfilling Amerie's prophecy as he moves to stretch his legs out on the stone. In return to Amerie's reply just then, he remarks, "So did I." Although he's not particularly good at sounding like he did, his voice too dry to betray much amusement.

"How about some liquor instead?" Laylia asks, though for all accounts and purposes she doesn't actually have any on her right at this moment. Her gaze wanders over to Amerie, which she suggests, "Your tone at the time didn't suggest it was very sincere." She then falls silent and returns her attention to I'daur to see what his response to the offer of liquor might be.

Amerie rolls her eyes as she finds a rock to lean against, arms folded, expression neutral. Giving I'daur a slight smirk, she then settles into brooding - but to give a sniff at Laylia's explanation. "Perhaps you ought to read less into people's tones. Maybe I just sound like that all the time." Like she's difficult all the time? Lifting her chin in the bronzerider's direction, "Ask him. You seemed a little touchy to begin with, though."

Even before Amerie nods toward him, I'daur is reaching into a pocket to pull out his flask and open it up. Of course he has to take the first drink, but then he recaps the thing, checks that it's tight, and moves to toss it lightly toward Laylia. "Have at," he encourages her. "Oughta make you better company." Or more likely to fight, but at least he doesn't actually say that.

"See what I mean? I can't say anything without you being argumentative about it. Sometimes, people just sharding aren't in the -mood- to deal with it." Laylia says, a frown crossing her features when I'daur tosses his whiskey towards her and then sets it down beside her. "How nice." She says and gets up to her feet again and starts off back towards the lake and leaving the bottle just out of reach of I'daur without him scooting closer to retrieve it.

"And someone else tries to be nice to you, and you turn down hospitality. And /I'm/ said to be difficult." Amerie is kind enough to push out of her lean and move over to retrieve the abandoned flask for I'daur - though she holds it out at arm's length, arching a brow. Turning before Laylia heads too far down the path, she asks, quick and awkward, "What's wrong, then? Why aren't you in the mood?"

"Don't think somebody thinks much of my whiskey," I'daur remarks to Amerie, though he's looking at Laylia as he says it, until Amerie extends his flask back to him. Reaching out to take it, he opens it again, takes a drink, and keeps it in hand this time. "Thanks," he tells the girl. And then, while Laylia makes her attempt at leaving again, he calls after her, "Why don't you wait a minute?" Because now he's pushing himself back to his feet, laboriously.

"Did you see all the carnage from the threadfall? All the injured people, and the dragons? How can you even find it in yourself to argue over what size rock thrown from the top of this cliff is going to hurt someone the most, or.. any of this mindless trash?" Laylia asks quietly, not even looking back at Amerie. She's truly a hold girl, and really hasn't experienced much of what she saw earlier. Some sure, but to have it relate to her by way of her sister running out to fight thread too, well.. it hit closer than she liked. "I came here for some quiet to sit and think, and if you both want to mock me, feel free."

"I do, but I know better than to take it from you," Amerie quips to I'daur - and as he lifts himself to his feet, she might stay within arm's reach, but doesn't actually offer any help. "And anytime." As Laylia responds, the darker girl tilts her head, as if actually trying to listen, watching the redhead's back. "I saw," she agrees easily, after a moment. After a longer pause, "It takes some time to get used to." The voice of recent experience.

"Sweet of you," I'daur tells Amerie, and for that, does offer her the flask when he's found his feet, steadying himself as he does so. Glancing back and forth between them, he watches in silence, then picks perhaps a rather tactless time to ask, out of the blue to Laylia, "You wanna stand?"

"How can anyone get used to /that/?" Laylia asks, her jaw clenching a little as she looks at the younger woman. Her hands fidget a little under the blanket she'd brought up with her, and she asks presumably to Amerie, "Do you have any family flying up there?" She then looks at I'daur with a look of confusion, "I am standing, I'daur, sir."

Amerie takes the flask with another wide flash of smile for the older man. "I try," she says. And if she notices any steadying on I'daur's part, she doesn't react to it. At his question to Laylia, she just arches brows, takes a sip of whiskey, and lets the other girl's questions go unanswered as she watches the scene unfold; in order of importance, the bronzerider's wins.

I'daur clarifies, "For the clutch. I know you already /are/, but for that." And he gestures at her, to indicate her current posture.

Laylia for a moment looks like she's going to just break down into tears, what a horrible time to be asked that sort of question. "I.. I don't know. Are you asking me rhetorically, or are you asking me seriously?" She asks, looking at I'daur and then Amerie for a moment.

Amerie takes another drink from the flask before capping it - and with a questioning glance to I'daur, offers it back to Laylia. She hasn't accepted search yet, after all. With a shrug, "I don't think they ask unless they're serious."

I'daur has the grace to look just a little bit awkward, and he reaches up to rub his neck and not quite look at Laylia. Reflexively, he makes a motion like he wants to reclaim his flask from Amerie, but his hand withdraws abortively when the girl moves to pass it to Laylia, who probably needs it just as much. He shrugs at first, but his verbal reply is earnest: "Seriously."

Laylia gives Amerie a frown, as if that quip wasn't expected. She takes the flask of whiskey to take a drink from it, and then offer it back to I'daur lidded and says, "I was here thinking about how I could offer my help while I stayed here, and..." She pauses, and then gives a more solemn nod, "Alright. I'll stand for the clutch." She then looks to I'daur with a forced smile, "It'd be an honor."

Amerie gestures towards I'daur - see? With an apologetic look for giving away his booze in his time of need, she offers Laylia a little shrug - that's the way it is. Folding her arms again as the other girl takes the flask, a smirk touches her lips at the answer. "Congratulations," she says, tone threaded with amusement.

"You know where the barracks are?" asks I'daur then, relaxing when Laylia agrees. And when she, more importantly, offers him back his flask so he can refortify himself with it. "You can move your stuff in there. Think... Oh, hell, I don't know who's running the candidate this time, ask somebody else about all that stuff."

Laylia gives Amerie a bit of a look, though she seems to have calmed down a little from earlier. "Thank you..." She says quite politely to the assistant headwoman, before arching a brow at I'daur. "The barracks? I'm sure someone could direct me, you needn't go out of your way to show me." She says, and then sighs a little to release some of the stress she'd been holding up inside. "Alright, I'll see what I can find out."

Looking as if she hopes that she won't be asked, Amerie glances over her shoulder down towards the lake, glancing back to Laylia to catch the look. She arches a brow - then just offers a very slight smile. "It's not easy, I hear," she says, as if trying to make conversation. Isn't it lovely we're having weather? "Good luck."

"Down... thattaway," I'daur remarks, glancing about, down at the floor of the bowl and then gesturing vaguely toward one of the many dark openings off it. "S'easy to find, I figure. But if you'll 'scuse me, I need to go home, get a refill." He holds up the flask and wiggles it slightly, letting the now rather dwindled contents slosh.

Laylia glances the direction I'daur remarks about, and then turns her feet to start off in that direction straight away. "No, I don't suppose it would be easy." She suggests with a bit of a smile directed at Amerie, and then a more genuine one at I'daur. "Enjoy your night, I'daur. Sounds like it's just about empty, yep." She says, and then lifts a hand to wave at the both of them. "I'll go find that barracks now, before it gets too late."

"You need a bigger flask," Amerie notes dryly to I'daur. Or to stop drinking, but she's bright enough not to suggest it. "Have a good evening, sir." For Laylia, she has a brief nod, then, "You as well. If there's anything you need, let me know. Or Milani." The last is an afterthought, lest anyone think she's being nice.

"Or a spare," I'daur agrees with Amerie, nodding as he moves to follow Laylia down from the cliff, but then to split off and meet up with his dragon to carry him home.

+tag, you're it.

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 00:49:02 GMT

Another of the +tag winners... :D Very short scene, another of my @work wonders.

The return of the jacket...

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 06:56:28 GMT

Where N'thei pays his debt and then are joined by Shanlee and Niena. Farewell, mended jacket... until next time~~.

Living Cavern Kitchen Snowasis Resident Quarters Storeroom Corridor Water Cavern Infirmary Bowl Tunnel out of the Weyr
You stride towards a hidden archway that leads to a set of stairs up.
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Contents:
N'thei
Obvious exits:
Ledge Lower Caverns

~~~

Ahh evening in a den of iniquity-- bar lined with people, tables busy with drinking and talking and necking, laughter and conversation and the tinkle of glasses raised and clinked. Amid the confusion, N'thei and a trio of other men are still easy to spot by the cluster of people knotted around their table, by women leaning against chairs, by men counting out the pile of marks in the middle of the table. It's a big hand, this round of poker, and N'thei holds his cards flat against the table in front of him, leaned back in his chair, wearing a smile that would take a harper a lifetime to read: vague with confidence but could it just be a bluff, a flicker of doubt twinging bright gray eyes.

While Laylia usually tends to only stop by the Snowasis during the mid-day, since the night is a little riskier - at least by her calculations. She paced around outside the entrance of the room for a short while, peeking in once or twice before she finally gets the gall to walk right in. Her course is direct once her target was found, and in her arms is the completed jacket that didn't quite take the whole sevenday so he needn't actually hunt her down. With him leaned back as he is, he looks down at N'thei and insists, "Sit up so I can put this on the back of your chair."

Always with a drink at hand, N'thei just finished setting it to his lips when Laylia so bluntly intervenes. He holds the glass halfway between his mouth and the table, a merry look to dance around at the three other men tossing in to the obscene amount of money on the table between them. For a second, the conversation falters while no one seems to know what to make of this interruption, then the oldest of the card players erupts into a fit of mocking laughter and throws his cards aside, folded. Promptly, N'thei sits forward to make room between his back and the chair, eyes now settled on Laylia with bright entertainment at her. The older man, still in a gale of laughter, declares to the whole table and its hangers-on, "By the first egg, the girl can't even wait till the hand's over! What I'd give to be the Weyrleader at that."

Laylia blinks as though she's clearly not sure what the issue is here, or why the conversation has stopped. But, when N'thei obliges none the less she sets the heavy jacket on the back of his chair as she intended to do in the first place. There's a faint blush rising to her cheeks, perhaps because of the comment that was made by the old man, but all she offers in response is, "My apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt your game." She offers quite meekly, and drops her hands back at her sides and shimmies off a few steps once her load is relinquished.

There must have been much drinking before now, for Laylia's innocuous comment raises another hoot of laughter around the table, even a giggle from the pretty hanger-on at the older man's chair. While it dies away, N'thei knocks back what's left in his glass and throws his cards toward the pile of marks, says something quietly about folding, that casual while he walks away from a load of money. "I owe you a drink, my lovely," he's saying while he pulls the mended jacket across his shoulders, while he's getting a bemused look and a stream of chuckles from the three he's just left to finish out the game. On his feet, he indicates the bar with an open hand for Laylia, this-way.

Managing to take even a few further steps away from the table while the hooting laughter is commencing, Laylia has a look of utter and complete confusion. What did she say that inspired such laughter, or.. mockery? She frowns a little, and then arches a brow at N'thei as he tosses his cards on the marks, and offers a drink that before she'd insisted upon but now appears more than eager to walk away from. "You did, but it can wait for another time. Isn't it bad that you tossed your cards like that? Aren't some of those your marks?" She asks, pointing at where on the table where the cards were tossed. So far, she seems less than inclined to follow him to the bar, too.

"A fair few." N'thei spares no further glances at the marks, leaves it to the last two in the hand to figure out where the victor lies. Once away, the drunken laughter finds someone else to focus on, anyone else, and leaves the bronzerider hitching his chin to indicate that he'll be going to the bar with or without Laylia. But-- "I'd come if I were you, they'll only keep laughing at you if you stay." He finds a way to pitch the words under the volume of the riotous conversation but over the volume where they'd be lost for Laylia because of it. He's already on his way to the bar, fingers considering the repairs while he walks.

"They'll keep laughing because they're so drunk they'll find anything to laugh at." Laylia retorts, though her slate blue gaze does return to the table and it's laughing occupants. However, her voice doesn't carry as good in the full snowasis, so perhaps he doesn't even hear those words - just sees her idly staring at the table before finally returning her focus to him on his way to the bar and inspecting the repairs. A moment of contemplation ensues, but it's just the bar he's going to, not like a table off in a corner somewhere so she follows along. "Would you have lost anyways?" She asks, so she won't feel responsible for any losses.

One of the perks of being in charge is always getting a seat at the bar. A pair move off toward quieter venues, but not before they give Laylia a blatant once-over, a flavor-of-the-week consideration. Whether or not N'thei saw the look, whether or not he heard Laylia's earlier remark; both are dubious since he acknowledges neither of them. "Matters? --What do you drink?" He must have found satisfaction with the mended jacket, now done picking at it and giving her an expectant half-smile instead.

One of the perks of being in charge is always getting a seat at the bar. A pair move off toward quieter venues, but not before they give Laylia a blatant once-over, a flavor-of-the-week consideration. Whether or not N'thei saw the look, whether or not he heard Laylia's earlier remark; both are dubious since he acknowledges neither of them. "Matters? --What do you drink?" He must have found satisfaction with the mended jacket, now done picking at it and giving her an expectant half-smile instead.

Laylia notices the once-over, and appears quite uncomfortable the moment after. She smooths her skirt, and then pulls one of the seats so she can sit on it without too much fuss. "I'll have some whiskey since it's what you stole from me last." She says, looking at him and trying to assess by his actions and that half-smile what kind of mood he's going to be in today - it appears as swift as changing direction as the wind itself.

N'thei gives the bartender the simplest of orders, whiskey doubles, holds up his two fingers. Two glasses on their way. "Stole?" He asks the short question with a casual incredulity, with his head cocked while he puts one leg on the barstool and leaves the other foot still on the floor. There's no qualifier for the simple query; by the time there might be more to say, the drinks line up on the counter and he has one for himself, one held daintily on his fingers toward Laylia.

N'thei gives the bartender the simplest of orders, whiskey doubles, holds up his two fingers. Two glasses on their way. "Stole?" He asks the short question with a casual incredulity, with his head cocked while he puts one leg on the barstool and leaves the other foot still on the floor. There's no qualifier for the simple query; by the time there might be more to say, the drinks line up on the counter and he has one for himself, one held daintily on his fingers toward Laylia.

"You took it without asking, it's the same thing as stealing." Laylia assesses of the situation that transpired in the living cavern, and then adds, "Then you took the whole thing off when I asked you not to." She shifts on her chair and since there's not been any comment on the lack of quality in her mending or even a compliment to it - she just leaves it alone as being adequate enough. When the drink arrives, and he offers it to her, she looks at him like he grew a new head before she takes it from him. "You're nicer when you've drank more, I guess?"

N'thei holds a look upon Laylia for a long silent spell, a look that ends with a quirked eyebrow and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it shrug for her take on what transpired with I'daur's whiskey. "You guess." He samples his drink, the corner of his mouth twitched fractionally in response to the burn of whiskey, then; "I'm being polite. It was part of the deal." Hard effort!

Having not yet taken a drink, Laylia looks down in her glass and then finally lifts it to her lips to take a sip. And a sip it is, since it's rather strong alcohol and she is mindful enough of that fact. She shifts so she's turned more towards the bar and less towards him, lest anyone in the bar get it in their mind that her body language suggests more than a quiet drink. "That is true. How honorable of you." She says, quirking a much more pleasant and broad smile in his direction.

"Don't get used to it." Notion dismissed. N'thei lets the silence linger an extra few moments, lets it be filled by little more than the bubbling laughter that continues to erupt around the cavern-- peals, giggles, guffaws, all the sounds of people with liquor and good moods. "Drink faster." He tips his glass to illustrate, gone, and puts it empty on the bar in front of Laylia; anyone not counting would be left to assume she's the one that drained it.

"Of course not." Laylia says, and glances around the room to see how the card game is panning out without the Weyrleader there to presumably take all the profits. She returns her gaze to the company at the bar when he says and illustrates the draining of the drink and then follows suit. The drink empties quickly, but is followed by her covering her mouth and coughing since it was quite a strong drink and she's not used to drinking it so quickly. Watery blue eyes look at N'thei afterwards, as she catches her breath.

It can be noted that N'thei has not so much as glanced at the card game since he left it; his chair has been filled by one of the previous onlookers, and the game continues apace without him. His new game involves refilling Laylia's glass, having beckoned over the bartender and made exchange of marks for a bottle. Maybe it takes silence to maintain politeness, but he says nothing while he reaches to refill her glass. There's a questioning quality to the look that returns hers, not going to pass out already, is she?

Laylia lifts a hand to rub at her eyes, the effects of strong liquor hitting her hard since she doesn't often drink much - and never that quickly. After rubbing her eyes, she notes her glass has been refilled without her asking for it. Her gaze slides from the glass, and to N'thei, then back to it. "I asked for one drink." She says, though she traces her finger across the rim of the newly filled one none the less.

N'thei, pleasant; "It's called generosity." He nods to the glass, drink-up, and simply settles back to his barstool with a curious little smile to the corners of his mouth-- patience, amusement, expectation.

Laylia half closes her eyes as the alcohol from the first drink warms her from the inside, and then shakes her head at the nod. "I really shouldn't." She insists, knowing full well it wouldn't take much of this strong stuff to put her under the table.

"Shouldn't? Or won't?" What is it about this place that incites the whole contributing-to-the-delinquency facet of a person? --N'thei lets the smile stretch slightly, lets it take on a quality of allure that has no business belonging to a person with as many personality defects as he possesses. There it is though, paired with a tempt-yourself lift of one brow.

Laylia may not be quite so young as to fall for those allures so easily, but the liquor did taste good after the burning sensation left - so she downs the next one without the pomp of coughing. She looks up at N'thei afterwards, a slightly defiant expression that dares him to fill up her glass again. Maybe the liquor is already affecting her more than she cares to admit to. "Happy?" She asks.

Shanlee has arrived.

There's no way this wasn't the obvious result: N'thei answers the dare by filling the glass again with gusto. He tibbles whiskey right out of the bottle, smiles right back at Laylia with a flash of teeth this time. "Always." --He and Laylia are bar-side, the rest of the Snowasis alive with laughter and conversation and card games and general revelry. She's got a full glass, he's got the bottle, not hard to figure out what's been going on in here.

Laylia crosses her legs on the stool, and nudges the glass over towards N'thei to have him refill it. Seems whatever N'thei has been planning so far has gone along hitched just fine. "Liar." She answers in response, and once the glass is full she just holds onto it for when she feels like she can take the sting of the strong liquor once again.

Threading her way through the throng, Shan's clearly on a mission to find someone, one or two wary looks going her way from various riders and then small relief as she passes them by and the chatter once again fills up the gap in her wake. And there at the bar is what she must be seeking, green eyes flicking over her intended target, Laylia and then landing firmly on N'thei, "Trying to corrupt the incorruptible?" a pointed, though dryly amused look going to the alcohol being shared between the two, "You'll be trying to teach her to play cards next."

Truth from the liar; "Occasionally." N'thei holds the bottle up a moment to gauge how much remains, sloshes it by the neck to get a bead on the liquid therein, then lowers it with an impressed look to Laylia. Really though his attention is more on her glass, waiting and waiting. --And there's Shanlee. Trying? "Succeeding, love, succeeding." Laylia knows him little, so it's for Shanlee's benefit alone that a moment must be taken to indicate how very drunk he is himself, a hard thing to pick out save for the lavish warmth in his voice and the way his eyes rest merrily on their subjects.

Laylia lifts the glass to her lips and finishes that next one off without hesitation, and then sets the glass down in front of N'thei. Apparently, once you start her drinking, she's eager enough to continue. At least, until Shanlee's voice is heard and she swivels on the stool to look at her younger sister, then at N'thei, then back at her. "I heard you're the one to take lessons from, at least that's what a bronzerider with the most stunning blue eyes said." She suggests, and while she's not completely sloshed, she's definitely quite liquored up.

Niena walks up from a set of stairs from the lower caverns.
Niena has arrived.

Through a smirk, "Mmmmm. Many's the fool that's fallen sway to losing his marks at cards due to an inviting smile and show of skin," this to Laylia and playing cards, "Ah, L'ian," must have been the comment on his eyes that jolts her memory. Turning to N'thei now, "My compliments Weyrleader for tackling such a difficult task," of her sister's state of inebriation, "I see its cost you dearly," to that of his own. A flick of fingers, one of those charming smiles of hers and an empty glass appears compliments of the bartender. Tilting it toward N'thei and his already abused bottle, "You looking to play favorites between sisters, or are you open to equal satisfaction thereof," so innocent that grin.

N'thei refills. It's his purpose. To his credit, he stopped topping off Laylia's glass before that last round, now more a shot in the bottom of her glass than a full cup of whiskey with a smirk at her sloshed state. "No, I started out this way. She catches up fast." Another slosh to test the volume before his fingers beckon for Shanlee's glass, neck of the bottle to rim of the cup for the filling. "I'm open to so many things, love, but you're only asking for a drink. Sadly."

Niena slips in, her expression mildly furtive as she looks around. Not seeing whomever she might have been looking for, she heads to the bar and, to the bartender's disappoinment, orders a mug of klah. She sees a familiar face and heads over to Laylia. Indicating an empty chair by the visitor, she asks "May I?"

Laylia sets the glass down on the bar once it's regained some more liquor in it, but it seems her interest in drinking it is waning as the warmth of the liquor she's drank before it starts to make her drowsy. The banter between the Weyrleader and Weyrsecond is paid little attention to, her gaze transfixed on the glass in her hand for a few long moments before she says anything at all. "Love, huh?" She asks, picking that word out of all the ones her sister and N'thei shared. Her gaze then falls to Niena and a smile is given. "Sure, feel free. I think I might be leaving soon, though."

Shanlee drops an oddly approving look over Laylia, never mind that she appears to be lagging now, "What can I say, she's a Fadden," again she reminds N'thei of that, or is it perhaps warning? Cupping chin in hand as the bronzerider duly obliges with his whiskey the low laughter that spills out is his, the words her sister's, "He dreams such fanciful dreams, doesn't he?" And just to try stirring the pot adds, "How do you think I still have my knot?" as the term of endearment he'd used is repeated back to her, although a soft snort ruins whatever image her words might have brought to mind. Another appearing and addressing her sibling draws attention that way, her chin dropping from hand and lifting a little as Niena's empty arms are eyed suspiciously, "No carpet crawlers tonight?" and somehow makes that sound disdainful of the topic.

N'thei greets Niena with a nod, a simple smile that's pleasant and unlaced, rare thing. To Laylia's question, he clarifies glibly; "I've always been a fan of irony." Slid off the stool too late to offer it to Niena but not too late to indicate it's free for the taking, he reaches to press the bottle toward Shanlee's hands, to impart words in a voice lowered below the general din of the crowded Snowasis.
N'thei mutters to Shanlee, "... passes out,... T'rgo... her... and... things... I... Very... the..."

Niena is already seated but says a polite "Thank you" to N'thei. "No babies tonight -- my shift starts a bit later. I can't imagine bringing one in here even then, though, old wives' tales about rubbing gums aside." The question may or may not have been in jest; Niena has taken it seriously and at face value.

Laylia remains on the stool she's sitting on, holding the glass carefully but not drinking from it anymore. She watches N'thei slide off his stool, and arches a brow at the comment about irony - it's not getting through her addled head right now at any rate. "Shan, mind if I stay with you tonight? I don't mind the resident's caverns so much but I have a feeling I'll wake up with a headache tomorrow without the noise to entice it." She says, and then glances to Niena, "Rubbing gums? I'm afraid I don't get it..."

The weyrsecond offers Laylia a sympathetic nod, "Of course, love. I'll try not to make too much noise when I get in," clearly intent on staying out late that night. Swallowing down a rather big mouthful takes some moments of getting passed as breath inhales sharply and eyes water. Wheezing a little, she just catches N'thei's comment to her a brow rising up slowly in amusement, in liquor husked response, "I'm almost intrigued," almost but not enough to follow him out. Instead she gladly takes possession of his bottle and wiggles fingers in his direction, "Don't fall down the stairs...Sir." grin. Watching for a brief moment as he leaves, a smirk firmly crossing her mouth, she then turns to Niena, "Remind me to hang out here more in future then," wryly given to the nanny.

Neither stagger nor slur to betray him, N'thei dead-pans a reply to Shanlee; "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming as ever." He takes a long glance at the greenrider, drinks in the look of her with more relish than he's shown even the whiskey, the kind of look that would get a man slapped by the prim ones. Then there's a less lascivious smirk for Laylia while she fails to 'get it.' The only just-polite thing he says all night is to Niena: "Have a good night, miss." He strolls out, fingers deft to button his mended jacket.

N'thei has left.

Niena watches him leave, then giggles and turns to Laylia. "Did he manage to make the payment in full?" she asks merrily. "Oh, and there is a rumor that always goes around when they're teething that a few drops of alcohol rubbed on the gums will help numb the pain. Problem is, everyone swears it's a different kind, and some say that alcohol can be an irritant instead of a numbing agent."

"I suppose. He was even pleasant. Well, as pleasant as he'd ever get, I suppose." Laylia says, nudging the glass of whiskey away from herself as she's clearly gotten the impression she's already drank more than her fair share. The exchange between N'thei and Shanlee is vacantly ignored, though she does watch him leave the cavern behind then returns her gaze to Shanlee. "What are you almost intrigued about? Shards, Shan, that man is about as bad as they come, don't you think?" She asks, and then grins at Niena afterwards, "I'd think that could work, maybe whiskey is it, my mouth feels about as numb as my mind right now."

Shanlee doesn't slap neither does she snark, that smirk just deepens at N'thei's long look over her, a finger sliding along her bottom lip musingly, and then he's gone and she lets out low laughter along with a muttered, "...pity...handed them over already...," to herself that disappears into her glass. Dropping it back down from her mouth Laylia is fixed with an amused quirk of lips, "Met and dealt with worse than him," pause, "But you watch yourself with him, aye?" And then Niena's making interesting query of Laylia, "Payment? Oh do tell, 'Lia," propping her head up with her hand as she sips from her glass and glances between the two, but making comment at the end, "Its mother's fault I drink so much," this to alcohol, babies and teething.

Niena says "Oops." She looks over at Laylia with a "What should I tell her?" expression. She ahs at Shanlee "Your mother used that particular remedy on you, or just drove you to drink?"

Laylia makes no comment about N'thei's departure, nor his long look of Shanlee, though she's starting to look increasingly more dopey as the liquor infiltrates its way through her body. "Shards, I should have known better than to drink so much." She muses, and then scrunches her nose at Shanlee, "I mended his jacket, and told him he had to buy me a drink to pay me for it. That man just keeps stealing my drinks." She complains without even giving the Weyrleader a name, just 'that man'. "I wouldn't tell her anything, Niena..." She suggests.

Flicking a look sideways to Laylia, Shan utters a twitch of mouth somewhere between smirk and grin, but answers to Niena, "Likely the other way round," on their mother and drinking. Concern creases her forehead next at her sister's sleepy-like state and ensuing words, "Come on, you. I'm putting you to bed," adding with a low chuckle, "Its admirable that you tried one upping the man with drinking, but not an entirely wise thing to have tried either." Brows lift upward and then drop into a scowl, "He sharding got you to do his mending for him? The cheek of it!" looking toward Niena for confirmation of this as she seemed to be clued in on it too. Gently a hand goes toward her sibling to encourage her to her feet for departure.

Realization dawns on Niena's face, and she says "No, I didn't mean about *that*. I meant about the payment, which you just told her, so no need to go on about it." The last part is rushed and with no punctuation. Then she adds "Oh, yes. Payment for mending. He said he was tired of giving marks to weavers."

"He's not bad looking, you know. Just his attitude is completely unappealing." Laylia says, likely to herself as she looks off in the direction of the exit. Loathe to leave a bit of whiskey behind in the glass on the bar, she reaches for it to try and finish it off before Shanlee can drag her off to bed. "I wasn't one-upping him, besides there's no way I would have won." She says with a vague pout to her mouth, and then shrugs her shoulders at Shanlee's insinuation about N'thei being just cheeky. "I should do something while I'm here to earn my keep. Even if it's just something small like that."

Reaching to throw the last contents of her own glass down her throat before they leave, Shan's mouth twists into a mocking line, "Somewhat reminiscent of a wild boar maybe?" on the Weyrleader's attitude. Nodding in patient empathy, "Not with that one, no. Perhaps try hitting C'len up for a drinking contest. That one you might win," grin. Approval makes an appearance again as Laylia speaks of earning her keep at the Weyr, "At least mother's embroidery and mending lessons won't go unused." To Niena as she turns her sibling around to face the exit, "That's because he has less marks to pay out these days," and there's a distinctly sly cast to the weyrsecond's tone there on weavers and payment for mending. "And now I think I should get her to bed before she falls asleep right here and I have to leave her 'til morning," a quick teasing grin going her sister's way, "Besides, I've got someone waiting for me," not caring too much how that might sound.

Niena looks at Laylia and says "That sounds like a really good idea. Need help walking her out?"

"A wild runner, nice to look at but completely unruly." Laylia says, and gets herself to her feet without much of a wobble. Appears the drink might have fogged her mind a little, but she's still quite able to carry herself on her own feet provided the ground stays fairly level. "He left his marks on the table over there. I'm guessing he was going to lose anyways before I interrupted their game." She says, trying not to draw attention to herself from the crowd still playing cards where N'thei left them. "Oh, Niena, I'll be fine. Shan will just drop me off so I can sleep. Do have a good night though, best you can with teething babes."

Shanlee chokes back laughter at Laylia's further assessment on N'thei, and can't help adding, "The wild ones are the most fun. Unpredictable," grin. Marks? Left on a table? The Weyrsecond is very quick in scooping those up and pocketing them with a completely nonchalant air and for the players gathered round still playing, "He lost a bet to me. I get paid first," smirk. The Weyrleader will have to defend himself to the riders if he ever gets wind of it. A nod to Niena and a pleasant enough smile and the sisters are heading out, with not a few eyes tracking the progress of the red haired pair.

I'm not a tunnelsnake for my sister, if that's what you're getting at...

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 01:58:27 GMT

An inadvertant meeting with the assistant headwoman, who seems less than chipper and quite cynical.

Lower Caverns, High Reaches Weyr(#1090RIJs)
As the outside light fades, lower caverns folks move about, uncovering glow baskets to illuminate the large cavern to brightness. The sounds of nightfall begin to fill the room, a lowering of tone, a heightening of quietude. Laughter rings softly as children start cleaning up daytime games, and folks begin to wind down their progress on their chores in preparation for the evning meal. The caverns fill with people, passing through on their way to other places, or merely to finish up a last item of work before pausing for a rest.
Passageways lead off in many directions around the cavern, forming a nexus of sorts. An archway opens up into the bowl; a wide tunnel leads out of the weyr; along the wall near the kitchen is an outcropping of rock that shelters a crevice in the wall; a well worn set of stairs rise up to the living quarters of the Weyr staff; and sounds and smells from the south indicate the presence of the living cavern and kitchen.
To the south, the corridor opens out to the lower caverns.
Amerie is here with you.
(Places code and +views (see '+view information'!) are implemented here.)
Contents:
Amerie
Obvious exits:
Records Room Lower Caverns

Amerie

With regal self-possession beyond her turns, Amerie seems older than her mid-teens, the illusion strengthened by a lofty, knowing look that makes it clear she's got it all figured out - or so she thinks.
Already five-foot-ten and a striking beauty, she has long, glossy mahogany hair that falls past her shoulders in waves to frame a round, cocoa-skinned face with small nose, high cheekbones, and full, wide lips. Her eyes are near-black and expressive though they rarely stray from vague boredom; she has a killer smile that's all the more stunning for its infrequency. Athletic, though with feminine curves in all the right places, she carries herself with an air of advantage that few but the self-involved have.
She wears simple clothing, tailored to show off her figure; a long-sleeved turtleneck tunic in soft dove grey over a plain slate grey a-line skirt. Cherry-red scarf and shiny black boots accent the somber outfit; not one for ornamentation, she limits herself to a simple onyx ring and a knot marking her as an assistant headwoman at High Reaches Weyr.

~~~~

In the late afternoon, the storeroom activity is reaching a low point as work winds down a little before dinner. In amongst the people passing, carrying boxes and baskets, is Amerie. The tall girl carries a clipboard in one hand, peering at the list with narrowed dark eyes and a grimace; she looks down into the box in front of her, then at the list again with a displeased expression. Something's not checking out.

Inviting herself down into the storerooms, Laylia arrives with a basket held in one hand that has a number of items in it ranging from thread to needles. However, that's not what she's here for. Over her shoulder she has what some might recognize as the weyrleader's riding jacket draped over it and pursing her lips as she looks at the rows of items. "Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to know where I could get some leather for repairing garments, do you?" She asks of Amerie, pausing in her advancement further until the question is acknowledged.

It takes some time for Amerie to answer, the dark girl still staring hard at the list as if sheer force of will might change it; finding that not to be the case after a few moments, she turns to regard Laylia. "It's my /job/," she tells the young woman with the appropriate combination of offense and boredom, flicking a look to the basket. With a purse of her lips, "It'll likely get eaten through again soon, anyway - but you can find the leather for jackets and pants in the cabinet over there." She points to one nearby, rattling off, "Left door, second shelf."

"It may be your job, but at least I asked politely. But, thank you none the less." Laylia says with an arch of a brow in response to the tone she was spoken to with. She offers no further argument on the topic, and shifts her movements to take her towards the cabinet that was pointed out to her. She sets down the basket so she can rifle through the leather in there to try and find a suitable match, and offers a subdued, "He asked me to mend it, so that's what I'm doing. It very well might get burned through again, but it's enough of a hole to warrent tending."

Amerie has no response to polite or not-polite, but by the lift of her chin, she's not too inclined to politeness at the moment. Even so, as she's bent to rifle through the box, her clipboard tossed aside with a clatter, she tells Laylia easily, "If there's no likely pieces in there, there's larger ones towards the bottom. And it's enough of a hole, I know." A pause, then; "It seems that way. In any case, we do what we must."

Laylia glances over her shoulder towards the other woman, brushing some of her red hair out of the way so she can get a better view. However, that doesn't last long as her attention is drawn to finding the right color match and size for the hole she's working on. "Have I done something to you that offends you? If so, I apologize." She says, and finally finds a piece that'll work and tosses it in her basket so she can close up the cabinet.

"Not to offend, no. Ask most people and they might agree that I'm being more or less as I usually am." Amerie might seem like the sort that would tend towards some standoffishness, but there's an edge to her tone that betrays some other reasons - be they to do with Laylia or not. Straightening with a bottle in hand, "I'm just not sure what you're playing at - if you meant to play the estranged sister and pass on information, that ruse got blown a bit early. Or was that just a one-time thing?"

"If you say so, then I will accept that." Laylia says, shrugging off the other woman's standoffishness as a simple personality conflict easily enough. She then turns to look towards the exit of the stores, and then arches a brow as she looks at Amerie after her last comment. "Pardon me? Pass on what sort of information to whom exactly? You've lost me." She says with all the earnest nature of someone who truly believes what she just said.

Patiently, "Information on what people say about your sister behind her back, possibly? The other night, you seemed to have a somewhat changeable opinion on the Weyrsecond." Amerie is displeased with the bottle, but offers Laylia something close to an amused smile for the earnest tone. "Or has that lost you as well? I'm not sure how to put that more plainly, though." She sighs, bending back over her box, long-suffering.

Laylia knits her brows as she considers what was said, and tries to remember what she said the other day that might cause such a revelation. "She's my sister, but I'm not her tunnelsnake." She says, rather flatly and clearly unimpressed with Amerie's assement of her. "My opinion of her doesn't change, and I don't hide the fact that we're related. If she wants to find hidden information, she'll have to do it on her own."

Amerie watches Laylia over the edge of her box with sharp, dark eyes as the young woman speaks. With a thoughtful tilt of her head, "All right. I quite like your sister, actually." For what it's worth, her previous company aside, etceteras. "I was just curious; you seemed to be trying to get at something." A beat before she admits, quite readily, "I don't really trust people in general. Like the people who packed this box, for example. Someone lied about the contents."

"The way the weyrleader spoke to me as soon as I mentioned I was Shanlee's sister was really uncalled for. I was trying to figure out the reason without having to go and ask her." Laylia says, and then shrugs her shoulders lightly, looking down at the basket she's brought with her. "That's not a good way to deal with people - not trusting them, that is. Cautious is fine, but to readily distrust people without even trying to know them. That's another thing." She says, and then turns away from Amerie, and takes a few steps towards the exit. "I'll leave you to sort out your duties here. Thank you for the help in finding this material."

Amerie arches a fine brow for the advice, but seems to accept the explanation with a nod. More sincere in her tone as Laylia starts off, "If you need to find anything else, I can point it out." And with that, she picks up the clipboard with a sweep of long fingers and a sigh; back to work for real.

My sister... the gambler.

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 19:54:47 GMT

Laylia meets L'ian, a pretty ice blue eyed bronzerider whom she compliments and has a nice chat with. :D At least she knows now that not all bronzeriders are overly surly or drunk.....

L'ian smiles. "Llama farming? That actually sounds interesting, to work with living creatures like that. More interesting than picking something, though I don't want to sound like I'm insulting those type of farmers either." He takes his mug over to the serving table to pour himself some more klah but continues speaking as he goes. "Thank you for the chat, and say hello to your sister for me."

Jaeni drops herself down in a seat at the bar. She hands her drink over to be refilled, turning slightly around so that she can keep an eye on what everyone else is doing. She watches with a little bit of interest as Laylia says her good-byes and leaves, eyes falling onto L'ian now. However, he's by himself so is there anything interesting to watch about him now?

Laylia gathers up her basket, and the jacket which she hefts over a shoulder with a wince as the scent evades her smelling distance. "I will. Perhaps I'll see you around later." She offers to L'ian and gives a quick smile to their little eavesdropper as well - see, she wasn't completely overlooked, the redhead saw her just fine.

And by the end of the day....

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 06:39:23 GMT

Laylia's been seen carrying around a half empty bottle of I'daur's whiskey, and after that, carrying around N'thei's heavy damaged flight jacket. Whatever will the people around the weyr start to think when they see her? Only time will tell....

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs)
The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Tiny bouquets of the first hardy flowers are crammed into jars and mugs, dotting the tables with their pastel colors and light fragrance. The faint, musty aroma of wet wool mingles with that of spice. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal.
Contents:
Niena
Amerie
N'thei
Jemah
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns

"You're the one who called her that the first time I met her, so I /think/ so." Amerie's turned to look towards where Niena's sitting with a glass of wine with a little nod as well. Not liking the 'uppity' remark, she gives N'thei another look, then starts away from the side table they stand at, arms still crossed. "I suppose it will, but given I'm not about to like it, I guess it can wait a bit longer. Have a good evening." The dark girl is in some kind of mood apparently, as she strides for the caverns entrance.

Amerie walks through the archway, into the lower caverns.
Amerie has left.

Laylia is perhaps a little sluggish in following after Niena, but she's still clasping in one hand what appears to be a partially filled whiskey bottle. However, she's not staggering around quite enough to have drank the missing contents by herself. It's still capped, and she makes her way towards the table Niena's gotten herself settled at without giving the living cavern too much of a once over.

Niena shoves over to make room for Laylia, quietly nursing her wine and looking perhaps relieved as Amerie exits.

N'thei's eyes will trail Amerie out of the room even while his thumbnail scrapes his lower lip in what could easily be taken as a pensive expression. It only takes a breath for the look to change, for a smile fit for public consumption to replace the look. He leaves his chair ostensibly to roll up the hide on the table, to dump off his dishes in the bin, but really it's to pass by the two girls. "What's gotten into everyone." A look finds Niena's wine, Laylia's whiskey.

Laylia sets the whiskey bottle on the table beside her with a resounding thunk, and showing no further interest in the bottle. Amerie's departure is barely noted by her, for she missed whatever discussion was going on before she'd arrived. Only when N'thei speaks does her gaze draw up from the table and Niena, and even a sigh is offered before any words. "Who knows. Surely I wouldn't." She answers, and follows his gaze to the whiskey. "You're welcome to it if you want it."

Niena just shakes her head, not a little confused. "Too much is happening at once, I think."

N'thei is rid of his dishes before he contemplates Laylia's bottle, never out of earshot, asking of Niena when he returns, "Been quiet as a tomb here lately by comparison; what all is happening at once?" One hand resting on the back of a chair, the other plucks the bottle from the table with a don't-mind-if-I-do smile to the redhead, holds it label side up on his palm with a measuring once-over. "Now where would a girl like you get a thing like this."

To look at the bottle would be to recognize it as one of I'daur's whiskeys, if one were familiar with them. Laylia just gives N'thei a knowing smile, letting him read into it whatever he might like. She then pulls the basket she's been lugging around with her a little closer to pull out the embroidery piece she'd been working on. "I haven't been a 'girl' for a while now." She corrects, fairly gentle in tone.

Niena shakes her head as if to clear it. "Quiet as a tomb out here, maybe. In the nurseries I think every baby has decided to teethe at once, including some who already *have* all of their baby teeth. It's cacophanous in there."

N'thei laughs at Laylia, subdued and distracted by the bottle in his hand, but nevertheless laughing /at/ her. "I've known few women who argue much about such a petty distinction, but I'll grant you the difference, miss." His ahhh, his half-nod to Niena is totally oblivious of however she's suffered in the nurseries, a man who know nothing of infants. "Need this more than I do?" He offers the drink, with it's telling label, toward Niena; he does not let go of it, mind.

Laylia is unfettered despite being laughed at, just offering a pleasant smile in return to N'thei and then returning her gaze down to the embroidery and picks out a brown thread to continue threading through the fabric where she left off. "Thank you, weyrleader." She says softly enough, politely enough that perhaps it'll bore N'thei and he'll wander away.

Niena shakes her head at his offer, saying "Between the klah and the wine I should be as messed up as I want to be." She glances over at Laylia, clearly more interested in the embroidery than in I'daur's purloined bottle.

N'thei glances at what's got the attention of the both of them, embroidery; to him, it's about as riveting as a hangnail. He heads off a half-dozen steps like he'll leave without a goodbye, headed to collect a cup to match the bottle until-- "You do mending, miss? If I gave you a jacket with a hole through it, could you patch it up?" Head cocked, eyes tricked from needlepoint to Laylia.

Laylia sighs a little as N'thei steps away, relief apparent with each step that he takes away from the table proper. The question brings her gaze up from the stitching, and an arch of a brow directed to him. "I probably could." She agrees, and then grins a little at Niena's comment. "I don't think you'd get that messed up on what you've drank so far.."

Niena is only a few sips into her wine, come to that. As N'thei returns she rectifies the situation, though not in the gulps common earlier this morning. At N'thei's question she looks surprised, then looks to Laylia to see how she'll answer.

From where he'd been sitting at the start of all this, N'thei brings back a riding jacket that has seen better days; the leather looks newish with few stains coal-stains, but the collar is half burned away on one side where thread's eaten through it. That's the part he turns to Laylia. "Yes or no." Niena's fast consumption goes unnoticed at the moment.

Laylia looks to Niena who's starting to drink her wine with more enthusiasm, or at least quicker. Though, it could be that she's looking at the younger woman for an idea on if she should or not. But, that's all thrown to the wind when he's already went and got it and brought it over to her. She just holds her hands out to accept the garment after setting aside her embroidery. "Let me see, and I'll tell you." She says, looking at the damage and then assessing, "Yes."

You sense N'thei's jacket could belong to no one else. The damn thing still smells like firestone and winter-cold, even in the freshness of spring. What's worse, considering the size of the man, there's a fair few pounds of leather-and-lining.

"Good. The weavers have had enough of my marks this turn already." N'thei leaves his jacket in Laylia's keeping, drops it into her waiting hands with a last gesture of a thick forefinger to note the worst of the damage done to the lining. "You should probably slow down a bit, love." His voice is uncommonly sympathetic following Niena's hushed question, the one he foregoes answering.

"Surely you don't think I'm going to do the mending for you for no payment at all, do you?" Laylia asks, but she's not asking for marks. She hefts the heavy coat on her lap to let it lay there, waiting for some smart comment, and to be told that she's not getting anything for her time. She wrinkles her nose at the smell of it, and then adds, "It needs laundered, too."

Niena also nods to N'thei, her goblet sitting firmly on the table for the time being. She still seems shaken at seeing the threadscore up close, but manages a smile anyway at Laylia's reply. With an almost downright mischievous expression she awaits the answer.

There are so many ways to take N'thei's flatly delivered answer, devoid of any particularly inflection so that too many are possible. "What payment did you have in mind." A coy question, prompting a flirtatious reply; a blunt one daring Laylia to ask for marks, just daring; a dismissive one that won't be paying her anyway-- pick a favorite! Quietly aside to Niena, amused; "It's just a jacket, miss, it didn't feel a thing."

Laylia slides her fingers through the torn segment of the jacket, even as it weighs down on her legs. The question, which might prompt a flirtatious reply from other people only gains a smirk out of her. "One single meeting with you honestly trying to be polite to me. You should buy me that drink you owe in the Snowasis." She says, then looks to Niena to see what her expression might actually betray.

Niena says "I'd never seen what it does up so close, though. I mean, I help out after falls like everyone should, but mostly in helping with the ointments and such." Her mind is turned toward more recent matters as Laylia sets her terms, and Niena actually giggles. "That sounds like a challenge."

N'thei has come back to the same chair in all this, stands the same way with his empty hand resting on the back of the chair and his free one still minding I'daur's whiskey. With his chin cocked questioningly askew, he asks, "Do you think I'm being impolite to you now?" He glances at Niena, at her giggle, a furrow to his forehead; no help from that one.

"You laughed at me, do you think that's polite?" Laylia retorts, and picks up the embroidery she'd set down and leaves the jacket laying over her legs. "I haven't seen much threadscore up close myself." She admits to Niena, and then quirks a bit of a smile at N'thei, and glances at the whiskey. "That whiskey was I'daur's but I still want some of it. Please don't drink it all."

Niena finishes giggling and attempts to look all prim and proper, though it doesn't reach her eyes. She's definitely not going to be any help, though there's no actual malice, either. When Laylia mentions wanting some of the whiskey still, Niena blinks in surprise, but says nothing.

"Sometimes." N'thei shrugs at Laylia's would-be point in a seemingly helpless way, the matter of politeness out of his hands. "Have it back to me within the week, and I will pay for your drink wherever you wish to have one, miss." He glances down at the bottle when the matter comes up again, quick to find a place for it in his pocket; what whiskey?

"You'll get it after I get my drink, of course. I'll have someone tell you when it's ready, sir." Laylia agrees with similar formality, looking at Niena to see if she's recomposed herself after her giggling fit. "If you're seeking to fool me by hiding the bottle. I'm not drunk enough to have forgotten about it like the guy I got it from might get."

Niena winces at Laylia's stinging criticism of I'daur, but doesn't contradict her. Instead, in all seriousness, she suggests "Perhaps one of the assistant headwomen can relay the message, since they have easy access to us and to the leadership?"

"I meant no malice. I truly like the man, he's quite sweet." Laylia says, as honest as she's ever been about what she's said. She then returns her attention to the embroidery, and looks up to see if N'thei is going to leave straight away or linger longer - when it's the first of the two, she relaxes a little and sighs softly. "You too, sir. I'll have someone contact you when the mending is done." She says, and looks to Niena quietly afterwards with a smile. "Thank you for the suggestion."

Niena nods politely to the Weyrleader, as neutral as ever. "You as well, sir. Clear skies." She beams when Laylia thanks her, perhaps not used to her suggestions being taken -- perhaps because most infants just don't believe in the word "Hush".

N'thei goes, before this devolves into a hairy discussion about the word sweet and the man I'daur; no one needs that to end the night.

N'thei strolls outside to the bowl.
N'thei has left.

Laylia doesn't quite pick up that the weyrleader again made off with her liquor until it's too late for her to go chase him down. Besides, she's weighed down by his overly heavy and smelly jacket. "I really don't know what to make of him at all." She says, and starts tucking her embroidery back into the basket she'd brought with her.

Niena shakes her head. "Me either. He managed a whole conversation with no insults or implications, and he was even nice. Given how he's been when I've run into him before, I didn't think that was possible."

Laylia shrugs lightly, and just sighs as she rests her head on her hands and elbows on the table. "I don't know if that could be nice, but it was unexpected. Certainly I never thought he'd leave me to mend anything of his." She says, looking down at the jacket and then back at Niena.

Niena says "I wasn't expecting that either -- especially with Aleudre and Viviana around. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk to you or something. He didn't mention your sister at all the whole time."

Laylia arches a brow, no wait, two brows and then shakes her head quickly. "I doubt /that/ would be the reason. Maybe he's just found another way to mess with me." She insists, and purses her lips. "I think that liquor is finally getting to me. I'm going to go lie down for a while."

Niena nods. "Good idea. I need to go back to teething-land myself and make sure everyone is still alive."

Laylia nods and gathers up N'thei's stinky jacket along with her basket of embroidery, and lugs them both off back towards the lower caverns with a warm, "See you later, Niena!"

Niena says "Take care, and sleep well."

Niena finishes her wine and puts her goblet where it needs to go before heading off to the nursries.

Niena wanders through the archway, into the lower caverns.
Niena has left.

Oh, s'what kind of underwear she wears, I s'pose.

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 03:40:07 GMT

Courtesy of the +tag code (which I suggest everyone uses!), I got to have a little rendezvous with the Weyrlingmaster. :D There's definitely something me and my little sister have to talk about, though!

Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Contents:
I'daur

I'daur

         Six feet tall, solidly built, I'daur is an imposing man. He's well-muscled, with close-cropped steely-grey hair and a good tan that speaks of time recently spent in more tropical climes than the Reaches. His face is distinctly masculine, with a strong chin, squared jaw, and straight, prominent nose. Faint lines are beginning to crease around his mouth and crinkle the corners of his dark blue eyes. I'daur looks fortyish: a stern frown puts him in the later years of that decade, while his warm smile subtracts at least five from that age.
         I'daur has a no-frills sense of fashion. He wears simple long-sleeved work shirts every day, in dull earth tones; in summer or when he's working hard, he usually rolls the sleeves up to his elbows. His pants exemplify well his belief of function over form: they're as plain as his shirts, made of heavy, dark fabrics and generously pocketed for the odds and ends he carries around with him. His shoes are black boots that don't match, not that I'daur seems to care: his belt's black as well, though hidden under the untucked hem of his shirt. Only in the most inclement weather does he throw a beat-up old riding jacket over himself. His knot marks him as a bronzerider and High Reaches' Weyrlingmaster.
         I'daur's voice is gruff, deep and rough; it's the sort that carries well and is made for shouting out orders. He also has a tendency to limp on his left leg, though he's better at disguising that fact earlier in the day, when he's less tired.

------

While most of the weyr is busy doing the daily chores of life, Laylia is neither doing anything in the kitchens after dinner nor is she actually helping with mending like she is sometimes seen doing. It appears now has been deemed a good time of the day to sit in the den of iniquity and drink a glass of whiskey which she has sitting on the lowered table beside her near the fireplace. She does have a basket kit of embroidery tools with her, but it would seem she's just settled herself there not long ago - if her glass' fullness is any indication.

Niena meanders up from a set of stairs from the lower caverns.
Niena has arrived.

A frequent frequenter of the Snowasis when he feels like drinking in public, I'daur is arriving there now to take up the bottle again. Heading in, there's a nod of his head to a few other familiar patrons, but his destination isn't with them, but rather a certain table by the fire, where a certain unfamiliar redhead happens to be already sitting. I'daur eyes her, her table, and the fireplace, and then notes, "But that's my spot."

Laylia looks up from the fire once the rather imposing bronzerider comes to stand nearer the table and eye her. Her slate blue eyes look him from head to toe for a long sweep before settling on his face where she offers a fairly warm, yet cautious smile. "There's plenty of room still, if you'd care to join me." She offers, and even takes extra effort to make sure her skirt is tucked up neatly against her so she's not taking any more room than is required.

Niena also wanders in about that time, but her stride becomes purposeful as she heads toward Laylia as well. "Did Shanlee ever find you?" she asks, not stopping for greetings.

I'daur is far too old to pout, but he looks at Laylia a second longer and then nods. Tugging out the chair opposite her, he moves to drop himself into it, stretching his legs out while he opens his bottle up. "Much obliged--no offense meant, either," he tells the girl, the latter an afterthought when she starts to draw herself in to give him room. "Don't move on... Popular thing, ain't you?" the older man breaks off what he had been about to say when Niena arrives as well.

"If you truly wanted my spot, I would have given it to you." Laylia offers quite politely to I'daur, then takes a drink from her glass before Niena walks in with her purposeful stride. The weyrlingmaster's question goes unanswered for a moment as she responds to Niena with a warm, "Oh, yes. She caught me not too long ago out in the lower cavern. She knows all my hiding spots." She assures with a smirk, and adds, "If you want to join us you can too. I was just going to learn this pleasant man's name." She muses as she looks towards I'daur, "I'm Laylia, and I'm not sure if I'm all that popular."

Niena goes over and gets a boring mug of klah and a snack before accepting the invitation. "Thank you. And hello, Weyrlingmaster."

I'daur studies Laylia, glances half-over his shoulder before deciding he must be the 'pleasant man.' "I'daur," he answers then, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Afternoon," to Niena, though only after a long drink of his whiskey. "Nah, one's as good as the other, I guess. Just, habit, s'all. There some kinda reason the Weyrsecond wants to hunt you down?"

Laylia shifts a little in the chair to set her drink down on the table, which barely has much drank out of it yet at all. She's an awful slow drinker, it would seem. "You're a lot more pleasant than some I've met." She says, though whom that might be remains nameless. "She enjoys tormenting me? I'm her older sister." She says, and then grins at Niena, "Taking a little break? I do so love this place, even if I was told I shouldn't be here."

Niena has seated herself on the far side of Laylia, so that the visitor is between the Weyrlingmaster and the nanny. She smiles at the comment about tormenting, then replies "Shift over for today, and I decided to try to do something other than think about work." She sips her klah. "Why would you be told not to visit here?"

"'Cause of the drunks," I'daur makes a guess as to reasons one should stay away from the Snowasis, with a lift of his bottle to demonstrate as much. "But if your little sister there was the one as said it, well." He just snorts and takes another drink at that thought, not nearly so slow about working his way through the liquor as Laylia is. "Should put something in there. Kick it up," he advises Niena in the meantime, as he plunks the bottle down on the table. "Then it's something worthy of not working."

"Holder girls like me, shouldn't be caught in places such as this." Laylia replies even after I'daur's guess was pretty close to on target. "Or so N'thei says. At any rate, I'm not some completely oblivious fourteen turn old girl." She insists, and despite her being warned she's still sitting right here like some dared teen. She looks at the bottle that I'daur is draining, then at him afterwards, but no remark is made about that - instead she offers to Niena, "You should put a little something in your drink, it'd help relax you a little. At least, I would."

Niena ponders this, as slowly as she ponders everything, nodding when she hears the conventional wisdom about hold girls and Laylia's response. When she gets the recommendation from both sides she smiles faintly. "If I'm any more relaxed I'll be asleep, hence the klah." She goes on to assure them "I plan on having some wine with dinner though, to wind down a bit from whatever this does to me."

"Wine." And I'daur just shakes his head, rather pityingly, at Niena's answer to their encouragements. To Laylia: "Holder girls like you," he repeats, raising a brow in skeptical fashion. "'D ask if you're really related to Shanlee, but then, you /are/ here and drinkin' in the end. Nice of the Weyrleader to look out for you, though," is added dryly. He takes another drink, thoughtful, before asking, "So what kind of stories you got on her? Your baby sister."

Laylia can't help but snicker a little at what I'daur said, "Looking out for me. Right." She mocks, and then shakes her head before picking up the glass to take another drink from it - this time a slightly longer one. She says nothing on his other comment, though she is defying the suggestion and sitting here drinking in the end. "I have all sorts of stories on her, of course." She says with a coy smile at I'daur, which she just turns into a quick grin at Niena, "Sleep isn't all bad, of course. Though it is a bit early for going to bed. It's only midday."

Niena says "Precisely." She leans forward as stories are mentioned. "Come on, do tell!"

Laylia's snickering bemuses I'daur, who smirks himself at her words and then nods. Then, with an inclination of his head toward Niena, he encourages as well, "You heard the girl, give us something juicy. We'll tell Shanlee we plied you good with liquor first if it makes you feel any better."

Laylia blinks as Niena leans closer as though she's going to just spill all the embarrassing details of Shanlee's youth. She just smirks a little and shakes her head, "I think you'd have to get me drunk, butter me up, or perhaps listen to me mutter in my sleep to get those stories out of me." She says with a grin. "I fear Shan's wrath, you know?"

Niena looks faintly disappointed, though she looks over to I'daur. "He did offer to say we did the first. I would aver that as well."

I'daur will even slide his bottle across the table toward Laylia, with a lifted brow. "She ain't that scary," he answers, with a shake of his head. "Though she'll lay into you sometimes anyway, Faranth alone knows why. Sure you got some way of handlin' her, though, yeah? What else're sisters for?"

Laylia takes the offered bottle if for no other reason than to top off her glass and scoot it back towards I'daur. "She can be scary sometimes." She insists, for reasons unknown. "She's changed a lot since she Impressed that green of hers. My ways of handling her probably aren't ways that'd work for you." She says with a wink at I'daur, and then smirks at Niena, "I was already told I best not embarrass her."

Niena ahs, sitting back. "I suppose that tears it, then. I was hoping she'd not think you could be that devious."

"Sometimes," I'daur'll finally concede, with a shrug. "Didn't know her back then, though, not 'til I got hold of her. 'D tell you some good embarrassing stories on her, but can't remember most of 'em these days, or at least which one of the damn weyrlings it was that did it. Best I can think of, that I've got on her..." He pauses to think, and reaches for his bottle again for a drink to stoke his memory, once Laylia's topped up her glass. "Oh, s'what kind of underwear she wears, I s'pose."

Laylia listens for the first bit of I'daur's talking, but just as she's taking a drink is when he unloads that last little tidbit. She sputters, and coughs a bit, looking at I'daur with a face red from either the coughing or embarrassment. "She.. What?" She asks once she catches her breath, then glances at Niena to see if she'd heard the same thing that she did.

Niena was unfortunately in the same state as Laylia, sipping her drink. She also coughs, just barely managing not to lose it. She looks between I'daur and Laylia, swallows, then says "I was wondering if I heard what I thought I did. The look on your face is pretty conclusive, I think."

"S'a bet," I'daur clarifies, with a smug smirk and a drink of his whiskey, looking entirely pleased with himself for the reaction he inspires in the two women. "She lost--one honest answer to a question of my choosing. Didn't sleep with her, if that's what you're wondering."

Laylia lifts a hand to rub at her cheek, as though that's going to rub out the pink from them. "She lost so chose to show you her underwear? Or, were you really that interested to see them?" She asks, and then the blush deepens a little more as she says, "No, I wouldn't think you did. You're not her type."

Niena isn't blushing, or pale, or otherwise showing surprise beyond her initial reaction. "Or did she just have to answer the question verbally, not showing anything?" To Laylia she adds, "I'm not so sure she and her type would survive each other very long."

"No, no, just out loud," I'daur affirms with a wave of his hand and another drink. "Course, then she had to prove it was the honest truth, but. S'all right, though, she put the same question to me, too, not that I /had/ to answer, strictly speaking. So what /is/ her type, then?"

"No, no, just out loud," I'daur affirms with a wave of his hand and another drink. "Course, then she had to prove it was the honest truth, but. S'all right, though, she put the same question to me, too, not that I /had/ to answer, strictly speaking. So what /is/ her type, then?"

Laylia takes a drink from her whiskey glass, though now it seems to be disappearing quicker than it had before. "So, you showed her yours too?" She asks, arching a slender brow at I'daur before shrugging her shoulders. "Are you interested in her or something?"

Niena does ne better on Laylia, getting up for a refill. She brings some tapas over and offers them among those at her table, content for now just to listen.

"Naw," I'daur answers again. "Showed her I didn't have none." Helpfully, he moves to slide the bottle back toward the two women, should they require even more fortification with that revelation. To the latter question, he just shakes his head. "Only in givin' her a hard time," he replies to that, smirking.

Laylia looks away from I'daur, and probably has a shade of red to her face comparable to that of her hair. She just can't bear to look at him right now, and that in itself betrays that she's still quite the holder girl. "Shards, you're going to make my face burn off." She says, and idly grabs one of the tapas that Niena brings over to distract herself.

Niena is not blushing or seeming to take this out of stride. "So, do you have anything which can top that, Laylia, or was she tamer at home?"

I'daur does not look one bit embarrassed himself, leaning back smugly in his chair while he goes on about his drinking. He just smirks at Niena and then Laylia when the nanny puts that question to the unfortunate holder. "Apologies," is his completely unapologetic response to Laylia's blushing.

Laylia takes a moment or three to get herself recomposed, still not quite being able to look at I'daur - but luckily, Niena is there to look at instead. "And I thought I could handle anything that people could say." She mutters, and then glances at I'daur out the corner of one of her slate blue eyes before answering Niena, "Oh, no.. Nothing like that."

Niena puts in a simple "It's interesting to see what can surprise people in Crafts versus Holds versus Weyrs."

"Can't say as most people'd take well," remarks the weyrlingmaster, with a tilt of his head toward the two women, "hearing about the undergarments of some drunk old cripple they just met. An' since I can't top that myself, should probably be getting on my way. Done drunk enough in public for the day."

"It is interesting... And, you're not that old." Laylia retorts, now that some of the color has drained out of her face so she doesn't mind as much looking towards the weyrlingmaster. "It's more the lack of undergarments.." She says, and then frowns a little as he goes for a quick departure. "If you must. I'd walk with you if you liked." She says, and flushes a little more even though she's more than likely to be refused.

"Twice your age. At least." I'daur scans over Laylia appraisingly, nodding as he holds to that assertion and starts to push himself up to his feet laboriously. "Walk me out to my dragon?" he queries then, pausing to lean his free hand on the table for support, the other raising his bottle to his mouth again while he considers Laylia's offer. "Think I'm that drunk already? If you wanna--don't suppose I could stop you if you did."

"I like older men, Shan doesn't." Laylia divulges, as she gets herself up to her feet and leaves the mostly finished glass of whisky behind. She offers no help to I'daur with getting up, apparently knowing better than to insult his pride or whathave you. "You could tell me you didn't want me to come, and I would have respected that." She says, but since he didn't, she'll apparently gladly accompany him to wherever his dragon is.

Niena gets up as well, having drained her klah. "Maybe a walk would help; it's a bit stuffy in here." She concedes.

And now it's I'daur's turn to be surprised, his brows arching up at Laylia's confession. "Well then," he says after a moment, mouth curving into a smirk once more. He keeps hold of his bottle as he straightens, apparently taking it with him, though the other arm's offered to the girl in remarkably chivalrous fashion. "Maybe it will," he agrees to Niena, with a half-nod for her as he moves to start shuffling toward the door. "So now what're you doin' here?" he asks Laylia.

Laylia doesn't bespeak implications beyond that first simple statement, and idly smooths her skirt so that it falls neatly around her legs once more. The basket is cradled in the nook of her arm, embroidery as of yet still untouched. She looks at I'daur's arm, then at Niena, then back at the bronzerider before she claims it for herself in a tentative fashion. "At High Reaches, you mean? Visiting my sister is all." She assures, and flashes a smile at Niena, inviting her to follow along if she likes as well.

Niena seems to be heading in the same diretion as they are for the moment, at least. She does not flank the Weyrlingmaster, instead walking beside Laylia so she os once again in the middle.

"Making sure she don't get in any more trouble?" queries I'daur, regarding Laylia sideways for a moment as they walk out, heading into the bowl from the Snowasis. "Embarrass the family name getting involved with all us incorrigible weyrfolk?" A beat. "Y'know, can't say as I got either one of your names. Or remember 'em, anyway."

Niena says "I just needed the air. I'm Niena, one of the assistant nannies here."

"As if my being here would stop her? Really, you have to know better than that." Laylia says, and then shakes her head a little as she walks to the bowl alongside the weyrlingmaster and Niena. "Everyone needs a break from their life sometime." She says, though she doesn't expand upon that subject any further than that. "I'daur... Really. You should try to at least remember people's names. I already told you I'm Laylia." She says with a disappointed frown.

"Good point," I'daur agrees with Laylia's first comment, nodding. Then, as he tries to fix those names he gets, he repeats, making a face, "Niena. Laylia. Right. 'M old, can't expect me to remember already--takes me six months to figure out half my weyrlings every time, and that's yellin' at 'em every day."

Niena says "How long did it take you to remember Shanlee's name?"

"I don't think you should cling to the 'I'm old' excuse like a crutch; I know many people older than you with sharper memories than I have." Laylia retorts, smirking a little at I'daur, and then looking over to Niena afterwards to see if she'll agree with her. She looks around the bowl as though expecting a dragon as large as a bronze to be hiding under a rock, or something, while he answers Niena's question.

Niena nods to Laylia, grimacing. "Think of Jemah."

I'daur pauses to consider that question as they walk on out and he turns toward where his dragon is, limping that way. Zunaeth is waiting over by the lake, mostly dry after a quick dip that more or less succeeded in rinsing off the remains of the meal that immediately preceded said swim. "Fine. I'm drunk, does that suit you better?" I'daur tells Laylia, giving her a look. And in reply to Niena, "That clutch, had three greenriders but she was my only girl, so not too long. Still can't tell apart the four girls on blue I had, though."

Laylia gives the bronze a long look, taking in it's form and then returns her slate blue gaze back to I'daur once he admits what is more likely the truth. "It only suits me if it's the truth." She replies, and releases his arm after the look she was given with the quip she was offered in reply.

Niena hmmmms absently. "A lot of blues for that few greens. Were there any others in that clutch?"

I'daur ticks off on his fingers, "One bronze, a boy 'n' a girl each on brown, four girls on blue, and Shanlee and a couple of boys on green." Because apparently his memory isn't as bad as he likes to claim. "Kind of a mixed-up clutch, I guess. Seen worse ones, though." He shrugs, and then lifts the bottle he still has in his other hand for a drink. "Well. Close enough to the truth, anyway. Gimme a couple more hours," he decides, as he looks to Zunaeth and the bronze shuffles closer with a long-suffering rumble, forced to come fetch his rider.

Or perhaps having spent so much time with a weyrling class has ingrained it into his memory to the point I'daur can't forget. Laylia watches the bottle get lifted to the weyrlingmaster's lips, and then her gaze falls towards the lumbering bronze coming their way. "What a pity." She says, though it's unlikely to be due to the composure of the weyrling classes dragon colors, and more to do with the liquor he's drinking.

Niena listens soberly, nodding as I'daur enumerates the clutch. "I remember that one." Laylia's comment garners a look from Niena, one which seems to clear up as she discerns the actual target of the comment.

"You wanted some?" I'daur wonders, and generously extends the bottle toward Laylia. "Keep it if you want, got more at home." He stops his walking and lets Zunaeth come to him, the bronze lumbering over to a stop near the trio, while I'daur moves to detach himself from the girls. To Niena: "Was a decent clutch. My first up here."

Laylia takes the bottle as it's offered out to her, even if that wasn't at all what she meant by her comment. She frowns a little, disappointment apparent as she takes another step or two away from him so the bronze can collect his rider. "Of course you have more." She says, looking at the dragon and then shaking her head. "Have a good day, I'daur."

Niena backs away as well. "Well met, and clear skies," is all she can manage to say as she reads Laylia's expression.

I'daur just raises a brow at that disappointment, regarding Laylia for a few moments before turning back to his bronze and limping over to him. He hauls himself up the dragon's side, settling between his neckridges before telling the pair, "You, too. Niena. Laylia. Tell your sister I said hi if you see her." He smirks, then lets the scarred old bronze take off, Zunaeth flapping his way up toward their ledge.

What happens when the card games are over...

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 03:25:16 GMT

Laylia is idly working on needlework when a game in one of the alcoves breaks up. Another interesting encounter with N'thei.... which may not end well, but at least it's keeping her from being choked. :)

Perhaps a slightly more detailed introduction...

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 22:13:30 GMT

For those who don't know me, I'm an old-timer. Maybe not an old-timer when it comes to Pern, but when it comes to online gaming... there's a small number older than me. Not that there aren't people older than me... damn dinosaurs. ;) Anyways, feel free to pester me with just about anything. Code, chatting, reminiscing old days of Mucks and muf coding... whatever. :D Egads, I'm still a Wizard on Nails.. since 1996! nailschat.com 5150, in case anyone's terminally bored. Everyone connected there is a professional idler, so I wouldn't actually suggest connecting. But, there is a decent labyrinth... :)

IRL, I'm married, with no kids and a steady job. In other words, MUSHing is my hobby, so I spend quite a bit of time online. I work evenings, so the usual better times to catch me are early afternoon, and fairly late evening except on my days off when I'm around much more. :)

For Laylia, I'm going to toss her description and some personality information in here....

Here's Laylia!

The young woman before you is neither exceptionally tall or remarkably short, standing at a middling height of around eight hand-spans. Although slender, she's not a willowy woman, nor muscular - she's built slim with solid bones, and apt proportions. Her eyes are round, giving her an expression of guilelessness, while the color of the irises themselves is a redeeming pretty blue-grey easily likened to cobalt pigment spilt on slate. Her slightly sun-blanched red hair which falls just below her shoulders is most often left free, though occasionally it's pulled back by a yellow ribbon.
A loose skirt made of breathable cotton, dyed an appealing woad blue, offer comfort as well as stylistic appeal. The skirt is detailed further by pale yellow thread picking out the seams and the ribbon around the waistband which is used to cinch it, then tied in a bow and left to flutter. Her ankles are left visible, her feet protected by simple black slip-on shoes made of canvas, with just enough sole to protect from the odd rock that might be jutting out of the ground. A light blue blouse with a high empire waist, loose elbow-length sleeves, and an oval neckline covers her upper body, the cotton fabric dyed a buttercup beige hue.

For her personality, she's pretty easy to be around for just about everyone. She doesn't mind children, she speaks her mind most of the time, and has little tolerance for poor behavior. She's holdbred, so she's pretty modest and fairly shy when it comes to talking about anything that details with men, and has no interest in women in any sort of romantic ways. She's 24 turns old, and to many younger than her might come off as motherly or like an old auntie, and is very unlike her little sister Shanlee. :)

Feel free to hit me up for RP anytime, I'll say if I'm unavailable for whatever reason if it comes up. I love good plot hooks too, so keep me clued in!! :D

Are firelizards really dumb...?

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 21:37:47 GMT

What starts off as a brief discussion of the intelligence of firelizards and the creation of dresses with Aleudre, turns into a debate over skill and talent, and eventually the need for encouragement with Satiet.

Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr(#565RIJas)
This shoreline marks the edge of the freshwater lake that fills the southeastern portion of the bowl. The gritty dirt of the bowl gives way to smooth sand.
Across the lake, the bowl wall rises high into the sky, its face dotted with weyr entrances. A few dragonlengths above the water, glimpses of a level cliff can be seen amidst boulders lining the edge. Just south of here, a smaller pond of water is divided from the main lake by a natural bridge of land. A path leads across the bridge and up to the diving cliffs, winding through a dotting of small boulders on its way.
The morning is clear and the sun shines brightly. The wind drives against the lake's surface, stirring the sand that blankets the ground.
Contents:
Aleudre
Obvious exits:
Lake Pond Diving Cliff Bowl

Aleudre

         This is a man who consists of laid-back style and appears to be in his early twenties. Shorter than most men at 5'7", he is bird-like in his slim build. Dark brown hair is allowed to shag in a cultured cut, kept trimmed above eyebrows and around the ears. Nut-brown colored eyes are slightly slanted and well positioned against an aristocractic nose. Long, thing, 'piano'-fingers rest on groomed yet sharply calloused hands. A light baritone adds some masculine lit to a tranquil demeanor. He is one to be found around a harper at night, rowdily singing along.
          Not as painstakingly detailed as other works, this outfit is still a compliment to Aleudre's craft. The shirt is form-fitting enough to be comfortably worn underneath a jacket and light enough to breathe during warmer weather. Dyed a light olive green, its colors are a suitable match against his eyes. The shirt also matches the rich russet colored trousers that finish the outfit with casual style. Strength is built into the leather-pants by a mind for intricate stitches and sturdily tanned material. Unlike some leather, these pants are loose enough to be comfortable but still cut close enough to prevent chafe.

Satiet

Satiet is slight and compact in build, overall figure slender and toned with muscles, especially along her arms. Her face is thin, almost sharply so, and its saving graces are the high cheekbones that taper into a gentle point at her chin. There's no doubt many might find her attractive, if only for the excess amount of confidence that exudes in the pride of her general posture and the aloof hold of her chin. She appears in her mid-twenties, and the discipline that is her life's creed can be discerned in glimpses of the ice cold depths of her blue eyes. Her glossy raven hair is shorn just two finger-widths longer than her chin, so the ends curl inward to tickle the nape of her neck and offset the cream of her skin.
A fitted camisole, with thin straps that rise over pale creamy shoulders, curves distinctively over Satiet's trim figure. Unembroidered and pale blue in shade it is a serviceable top, designed to not hinder free movement. A pair of dark blue shorts display pale legs, though well-muscled, and while her feet are bare a woven band adorns one ankle. She is also free of jewelry and looks sharply clean with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

~~~~~

Having snuck out of the living cavern not long after breakfast, Laylia has decided that perhaps a further exploration of the weyr is possible due to the fact it's slowly becoming less chill. She's still rather bundled up, with a thick shawl wrapped around herself and only leaving the bottom of her skirt showing as she finds her way to the lake shore.

With the morning being so clear, and the weather being mild compared to past days, Aleudre has decided to sneak out to relax by the lake. The tailor has stationed himself on a rock and he is casually skipping rocks out into the waters. A pair of fire lizards are fishing not too far off shore and quite possibly belong to him.

Catching sight of the little firelizards, Laylia gets a rather pleasant smile on her face and invites herself closer to watch the small creatures. Oh, she definitely has an interest in them - but she still offers a polite sounding greeting to Aleudre, "Good morning. Are those your firelizards?"

"Oh, those two stupid things?" Aleudre asks, looking up from his contemplation the smooth rock in his palm. He nods his head and flicks the stone through his fingers before tossing it up and catching them. "Yeah, those are mine." As if cued by the girl's interest, the green breaks from her search in the water to flit over and land on Aleudre's shoulder. She chirrups a greeting to her. "She's friendly and I can't figure out why. Not like I'm nice to her." He twitches his brows down and scowls at the green who responds by cheek-rubbing him.

Blinking at the response, Laylia pauses in her walking towards him and the firelizards. She keeps her hands tucked neatly beneath her shawl, and asks, "Stupid? I can't say I know much about them, but I don't think they're truly dumb." She suggests, and brightens up a little as the green happily chirrups a greeting to her. "Maybe she just has a really good disposition, and really likes you." She offers, and snickers a little at the cheek rubbing after being given a scowl. "I'm Laylia, visiting from Rocky Flats Hold."

Aleudre tosses the rock out into the waters. The brown departs from his quest in a tumbling dive in the direction of the rock. He hisses his annoyance as his claws scrape just shy of grasping the rock. Aleudre chuckles as he idly strokes the green's tail as it wraps loosely around his neck. "Well met then, Laylia. I'm Aleudre and I'm a resident tailor here." He offers his hand to her, and if she chooses to shake it his grasp will be warm and firm.

Rocking a little bit on her heels, Laylia idly watches the brown's pursuits and giggles a little as he misses at grasping the rock. She then takes the offered hand and gives it a shake, but it's a tentative one as though she doesn't do it terribly often. "A tailor? Do you know Viviana, then? Shards, that girl needs an attitude adjustment." She muses to herself by the end there, and then gives him a much more pleasant seeming smile afterwards. "Did you make the clothes you're wearing? They're quite nice, really."

"Viviana? Yes, I know her. She's young and thinks she knows it all, but doesn't," Aleudre answers with a nonchalant air to his words. "I did make these," he adds, running his hands over the fabric with a wide, white-toothed, grin directed at hers. "But I make far superior dresses than anything else." A shrug and he watches as the brown flits over to land at his feet and chatter at him in aggrieved tones. "I told you, find your own food," he directs at the brown with a glare.

"She'll grow out of it, I'm sure." Laylia says, as if she's seen girls do just that over the turns. Not that she's old, but she does seem to talk like she often is. She gives him a longer look over, more from head to toe than she might have otherwise, and then blushes just faintly after she realizes what she'd done. "I'm sorry. Dresses? Really? I could probably use another one, maybe something a little warmer than this one. I keep forgetting it's so cold here." She says with a faint shiver, and frowns a little at the poor unfed brown.

Aleudre notes that look with a wry smirk and a lifted brow. "I'm not one of those, so don't look so surprised at my interest in creating dresses. Women pay better marks than men will for good quality work." That's the explanation, anyway. The brown lizard leaps into the air and circles around Laylia's head with a chirrup and then he disappears /between/. "It is cold here. I'm from Igen and I still haven't adjusted all that well to the weather."

Laylia appears completely baffled for a moment, "One of those?" She asks, and lifts a hand to toss some of her loose red hair back over her shoulder. "Oh, I see. I guess I can understand that - it seems like there's a lot more work to be done on a dress than there is on pants and shirts for men. Do you do embroidery too, or just making the clothes?" She asks, and then bobs her head a little in agreement with the last, "That'd be a harsher change. Why did you move here?"

Aleudre wrinkles his nose in distaste at the mention of embriodery. "No, I leave that work to those who enjoy such things. I just like sketching out drawings, picking the right fabric, and scuplting it to fit a woman's body perfectly." The green on his shoulder croons in her throat, eyes shutting in contentment as she curls up close against the man's cheek. "I came here, if you really want to know, because I got told I couldn't live in anything but warm weather."

Satiet strides over from the eastern side of the bowl.
Satiet has arrived.

Laylia is standing near the lake shore with Aleudre, who was skipping rocks across the lake before she interrupted him. She listens with a lilt of her head, and then nods a couple more times. "I see, I had thought so. Do you show people those drawings to let them choose what kind of dress you could make for them, or is it something you do after you meet the person?" She asks curiously, attempting to reach out and try and touch the green unless she seems like she's going to snip at her. "Really, you moved here just to prove some people wrong? Friends of yours?"

Rounding about the southern curve of the expansive lake is a slender figure, her ponytail bobbling and the sheen of sweat glistening across her face and exposed arms. The waterskin slung easily over one shoulder also bounces with the rhythmic beat of her slowing movements, until it falls flat against her hip as the weyrwoman slows to a brisk walk in her in unintentional approach of Laylia and Aleudre. She stops just a few paces shy of the pair, the towel around her neck used to mop her face dry. Sidelong glances offer her quick studies of those around her, Satiet's cool blue eyes pausing a little longer on Laylia and then her companion.

Idly fidgeting as Aleudre gets quiet, possibly having his attention drawn away by his pair of firelizards - Laylia looks around the lake to see what other sorts of people are out and around this time of the morning. The slowing figure gets more attention when she actually draws closer, and Laylia gives her a long look possibly taking in all the details of her, but it's softened with a welcoming smile. "Good morning! Though, it looks like you've been up for a while..." She considers, figuring all that sweat couldn't have been mustered up in a short run by someone so fit.

The distraction of fire lizards has held Aleudre's interest since the drop in conversation with Laylia. The green on his shoulder has set to croons, rubs, and fawning for attention which is met with a grimace and an attempt by the man to push her off of his shoulder. She only slips off, down along his chest, to curl in the crook of his arm. Aggrieved, Aleudre turns back to Laylia. "Sorry. I keep trying to get her to go, but she won't. What were you asking?" He considers her for a moment and then at the sound of his name turns to Satiet with a surprised lift of his brows. "G'morning, Satiet. How're you? Laylia was just asking me about dresses," he adjusts his body so he can look sidelong at the girl at his side with a grin, "and I was just about to inform her that I like to meet the women before I make a dress for them. Speaking of which, I have a sketch all set for your approval. If you're still interested?"

Not letting the silence, or the long cool appraisal get to her, Laylia may not keep smiling but there's no change of expression towards a frown either. Another moment passes, and there's a slight tinge of recognition or at least an idea of such recognition in her slate blue eyes. "Oh, /you're/ Satiet." She assesses, from whatever she might have heard in the lower caverns in addition to what she might have been told from her sister. But, she skips to the next point, "I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'm Laylia." She offers Satiet, before returning her attention to Aleudre with a couple blinks. "I see, huh. That answers the question I asked you just perfect." She offers him with a grin.

"Interested?" Notably uninterested until that moment, Satiet's thinly groomed brows arc quizzically as her blue eyes seek out Aleudre once more. A little less puzzled, and certainly more amused is the rhetorical inquiry that follows in a dry, self-mocking tone, "Did I commission you for anything? I ca-," but what she means to say is abruptly cut short when Laylia continues her introduction with the telling emphasis of pronouns, resulting in brows that hitch higher up along her brow and stay hitched there. Suddenly mild in inflection, the goldrider agrees, with the same emphasis granted her, "/I am/ Satiet and apparently, I've commissioned either a dress or a drawing."

"I think you should look at it even if you didn't commission it. Maybe he's drawn something that'll look gorgeous on you." Laylia says with a faintly bubbly air, apparently looking at dresses is something she enjoys, even if it may not be what the weyrwoman might. She tugs her shawl around herself a little more as a chill breeze passes by. The emphasis in the the dark haired woman's last statement draws a rather disparaged expression from her, and she offers, "Shanlee's my sister. Not that she says much about you, honestly."

Aleudre's distraction and subsequent departure leaves Satiet's question just hanging in limbo until Laylia offers her two bits. "I've a weaver at the hall I go to for my clothing," replies the weyrwoman flatly, her dubiousness of the absent tailor's skills transparent in the delicate lines that crease across her features. She further opines in casual conversation that belies the nigh imperceptible spark of interest in pale eyes at the mention of Shanlee, "And whether it looks gorgeous or not-, if he had such talents, wouldn't he be in the craft?"

Laylia turns as Aleudre departs, her own slate blue eyes just watching as he does so - but, perhaps she's more interested in watching the actions of the firelizards he'd had with him. Satiet's words draw her back to looking at the dark haired weyrwoman after she offers both her statement and opinion following, and she offers a faint shrug of her shoulders. "You'll never know if you don't give him the opportunity, I suppose. Maybe there's a reason he's not in the craft that has nothing to do with his abilities or talent."

Silent, though the brilliance of her pale blue eyes continue to study Shanlee's sister, a simple lift of Satiet's brows coupled with a tilt of her head begs the other woman to continue in her defense of Aleudre, as to just what those reasons might be.

"He said he's because someone told him that he couldn't bear the cold for too long. And, he seems to care what people think about him, so maybe someone said something when he was younger about all weavercrafter men being... you know. He seemed to think I thought he was interested in men because he liked making dresses." Laylia confesses, with a faint tinge to her cheeks that could be attributed to the cold, but more likely the constitution of her last statement. "I'm not him, so all I can do is try and fathom reasons that might not even be true. But, I don't discount the fact that because he's not in weavercraft means he has no talent or skill at what he does." She says a little more firmly, far more comfortable making that judgment.

"For someone who can't bear the cold for very long, he's chosen a very odd place to live," returns the weyrwoman, as pleasantly as she seems to be capable; which is with an iota of warmth that speaks more of amusement than anything else. "And the Weavercraft Craft being located so close to Boll would be /ever/ so cold, I'm sure." But due credit for the theories of Aleudre's lack of craft is given back to Laylia with a subtle curve that shapes Satiet's lips into a lip-pursed smile. "You aren't your sister." A statement, it's neither praise nor insult.

"Maybe he just lacks someone encouraging him to look to Weavercraft. You should look at his designs and encourage him if he does have some talent, since he seems to want to design things for you." Laylia finally decides, even if it's not really the weyrwoman's place to encourage such decisions. The last statement, despite it being neither praising or insulting draws out a broader smile from her lips, "Thank you. I'm glad someone's noticed that."

"I'm sure he's competent at sewing and mending and done well enough to either make a living or earn his keep, but crafts don't apprentice those of his age." And that seems to be that on the subject of Aleudre, Satiet completing her various cooldowns to stand straight, tugging at the two ends of towel about her neck. "Have a good day, Shanlee's sister." Whereas there was emphasis before on who Satiet was, there's now a faint, mocking emphasis in Laylia's designation, pale eyes watchful to the last moment even as she turns towards the Weyr proper.

"It doesn't mean that he doesn't need encouragement." Laylia says, even though she was shown quite well her ignorance when it comes to the crafts. It doesn't appear to bother her that badly, however, and she even offers a smile after being designated as Shanlee's sister once more. "Laylia." She offers, but doesn't say in a tone that would suggest a correction despite the mocking. Once the weyrwoman turns to leave, she returns her attention to the lake, and possibly up towards the diving cliff which might be her next exploration point.

I've never felt quite so motherly before....

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 06:09:29 GMT

The whirlwind Viviana nearly falls flat on her face in an arguement with Laylia... Yes, she can be motherly when she wants to be. And, this one almost got dragged by the ear to see the headwoman. ;)

Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#880RIJs)
Standing on the western side of the bowl, the high crownlike spires of the Seven Spindles on the north wall tower majestically above the roughly ovoid bowl floor. Near you, a large boulder stands, placed almost exactly in the center of the bowl. This side of the bowl is busy with the constant flow of residents and visitors around the entrance to the living cavern to the southwest and the lower caverns to the west. To the north, the large opening on the upper wall leading into the hatching grounds catches your eye. Directly below it, the ground entrance to the same area seems almost tiny. To the northwest, the weyrs belonging to the junior queens of High Reaches are accessible from a short set of stairs and a path of carefully laid black marble leads from them to the entrance to the living cavern. To the south, a few ground weyrs remain unoccupied, in case any visiting or injured dragons need them.
The evening is clear, not a cloud to be seen, giving you a perfect view of the stars. The smaller Belior winks as a waxing crescent while Timor winks as a waxing crescent. It is completely still, no winds blow and the spring air feels a bit nippy.
Views: Weyrs
Contents:
Viviana
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns Living Cavern Garden Patio Ledge Hatching Grounds Guest Weyrs Eastern Bowl

Viviana ~

Although only 5'2, Viviana's graceful posture gives an illusion of greater height. She considers her jet-black hair to be her one true beauty and keeps it held back in a loose braid trailing halfway down her back with a few stubborn stray tendrils escaping to frame her oval face When her hair is pulled back, it reveals a slight widows peak. Having deep-blue eyes and a paler complexion, Viv is prone to freckling if her duties keep her in the sun for long, Her facial features are pleasant, her nose being rather ordinary and her lips lean on the thin side. Her limbs are in proportion to her height and although she is by no means fat, she definitely has the usual feminine curves of a young woman in her midteens.

A forest green 'cotholder' style embroidered tunic remains somewhat modest yet flatters her figure perfectly. The matching skirt falls gracefully over her hips and is neatly hemmed so as not to impede her stride. She wears comfortable boots on most days. A wonderfully tooled russet-brown belt matches her boots and gives definition to her hourglass figure by accenting her tiny waist. She wears a pristine knot of High Reaches Resident.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evening is a time when most people are cooped up somewhere, even in the spring. Laylia's sure of that, or so she thinks. She's gotten herself bundled up for the chill of evening, and apparently decided that /now/ is a good time to go look around some of the area close to the caverns. She tugs her shawl around her shoulders, and sighs a little - apparently just enjoying the quiet evening, at least, as quiet as it can be in the bowl area.

Viviana strides at a brisk pace across the bowl, her own shawl draped around her head as a makeshift scarf. A secretive little smile is on her lips and all in all, she's well pleased with the world, pleased that is until only the small sigh of Laylia's prevents her from barreling into the girl. "Figures,a whole huge bowl and you pick /there/ to be, right in my path."

Niena meanders out of the lower caverns.
Niena has arrived.

Laylia is standing in the bowl, apparently in Viviana's way - though, for all that she's standing in the way from one direction, she's sure there's another angle that can be used. "A whole huge bowl, and you've decided this is the only path you can walk on. A little short sighted, don't you think?" She asks, with a quirk of a grin and all too much experience dealing with bratty little girls. Well, at least some of them anyways.

Viviana snorts and shakes her head, displeased. "If you stand around blocking the whole bowl...." Looking the taller girl up and down, she smirks. "Even the dragon's don't take up as much space as you do. It's polite to do your wandering -- away from where innocent people can trip over you - but then again, you are new, so you don't know as much as the rest of us..." Says she who arrived two months back. "Don't worry, I won't hold your mistake against you."

Laylia listens to Viviana and just keeps quiet for a moment, before just breaking out in laughter. "You can't be serious." She says, and then rolls her eyes a little. "Either you think you're far larger than you are, or you're just a spoiled brat who needs to learn a lesson or two." She says with a bit of a smirk, and then looks over her shoulder at Niena, and then back to Viviana. "Seamstress, huh..."

Viviana quirks a brow as Niena approaches and gently corrects her. "More than /just/ a seamstress. My speciality is embroidery... and Shanlee's sister?" That doesn't please her much either. "I should have known although your sister isn't /that/ bad and she had some good ideas, I suppose, I'll give that to her.." In a patronizing, slightly superior way, she asks Neina. "And how was all the diaper changing today? The little darlings didn't dirty you too much?"

Niena takes Viviana's insults in stride, shaking her head, still gently. "Changing was the least of our problems today. All of them are teething at once and we couldn't keep the teething rings cold." Changing to curiosity, she asks "Do you also do tatting? I've been thinking I might want to learn to make lace."

"That tone is /not/ required. Don't think I'm too afraid to take your poor attitude up with the headwoman." Laylia firmly states to Viviana, and while she may not be a resident of the weyr yet, she sure acts like she has about three children of her own. "Especially the patronizing tone. Really, little girl, who do you think you are? Are you some Lord Holder's spoiled little brat?"

Viviana shrugs. "Get a dragon to take them 'between',the rings I mean, not the children. I don't suppose they'd like it much, going between." Slightly thawing at the mention of her passion, Vivy actually smiles, revealing that there is probably a decent kid in there somewhere. "Tatting? My grandmother taught me how to tat. I couldn't get enough fine thread though back at the hold and most of the lace work is done at weavercraft now, I think..." Visibly bristling as Laylia rebukes her, Vivy crosses her arms and snorts. "Don't be trying to pull the fact your sister is Weyrsecond around here. It won't go far with the headwoman. People don't put much value on people who put on fancy airs and try to use their relatives to advance their position -- we aren't a Hold, you know." Neatly ignoring the question of her own heritage, Vivy tsks. "You'll never do well here if you got that attitude."

"I didn't bring up who my sister is at all. If your mind's gone addled, it was Neina who did." Laylia says, motioning to the person she's speaking about. She doesn't look at all pleased at the rebuke, however, and adds, "I'm sure /your/ tone won't go far with the headwoman. Is this how you treat visitors to your weyr? Is this how they want to be remembered? I think you should mind your tongue, Viviana." She says, knowing those things will probably go a lot further than whining about how mean Viviana was.

Niena doesn't respond either approvingly or disapprovingly to Laylia's rebuke, though she has a curious expression on her face as she watches Vivy's reaction. As Viviana answers her questions she ponders and says "Maybe I could try learning embroidery then. Not as a job change, but as something to do on my restdays."

Viviana faintly blushes although in the starlight it'd be hard to see for most. "Well, /someone/ said and she /is/ your sister and people will just naturally think you'll be tattling every little tiff to her and she's got much more important things to do -- like not get killed in threadfall." Apology? Not forthcoming as she's distracted. "There were two bronze's hurt dreadful in fall last sevenday, terrible.." Her tone does soften somewhat and she takes a step back out of the combantant's ring for the moment. "Neina, rest days are -- well, rest days but it wouldn't be a bad hobby, I suppose, if you can get the materials and you have strong fingers."

"I never said I'd take it up with her, either. If you're going to argue, at least listen to what the other person says so you don't sound daft." Laylia says, and tugs her shawl around herself a little more. Her decent mood, and the cool air of outside aren't quite the comforts she feels she needs anymore - but she's not exactly ready to turn tail and head back inside. She remains quiet for the moment, as though waiting to see if Viviana will spark up again, or finally drop everything and basically allow her to have won.

Niena tries to help it be the latter by saying "I never quite feel right on restdays not doing something. And maybe embroidery could be something to do when the babies are asleep and I'm on shift. They have basic floss available in the stores -- would you be willing to teach me?" She does flash a sympathetic smile Laylia's way, having born the brunt of Vivy's temper before.

Viviana glowers at the older girl, if she had a tail, she'd twitch it. Her braid will have to serve the purpose and she moves it back over her shoulder, tucking it under her scarf. "I wasn't the one who started the arguement, I was just pointing out that you were stan...." She sighs heavily. "Oh never mind, so you are /only/ a visitor here? Not planning on staying? Where are you from anyhow?" Genuinely startled at Niena's suggestion, Vivy gasps. "Do mean the floss we use for our teeth? Oh shells, that wouldn't do, not at all. Much too ....well, just not suitable. If you are very careful you can sometimes pick apart on tatting to get thread, that's what I usually did back home. My father didn't think tatting and embroidery to be very useful." Her lips turn in a wry grin.

"Instead of arguing, or huffing, you could have stepped around me. However, it seems you like to cause trouble, don't you? Maybe not enough people stand up to you." Laylia says, more to herself than to Viviana, but she seems pleased enough. She clasps her hands behind her back, and then glances back off towards the caverns, where the warmth lies. "Somewhere a little warmer than this is. I think I'll go back inside." She says, to leave the two others behind in the bowl - likely without much complaint from at least Viviana.

Niena giggles. "Not floss for teeth -- we always called the shiny embroidery thread floww, or at least that's what I heard weavers refer to it as. The colors available to just anyone aren't that bright, but still pretty enough."

Viviana smiles sweetly. "There's always some nice hot cider on the hearth in the cavern. Enjoy your evening, now." Meow. But Niena grabs her attention. "Are you from the weavercraft area then? Honestly? And shiny thread?" Again, she sighs wistfully. "The old peices I picked apart were not exactly shiny by the time they sat in my grandmother's press for twenty or thirty turns."