Logs:A Friendly Face
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| RL Date: 5 October, 2015 |
| Who: Lycinea, Z'riah |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Lya's return to High Reaches, she runs into now-Fortian Z'riah and the two catch up. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
| Mentions: Daiyo/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, X'vin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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>---< Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr(#2176RJ) >----------------------------<
A passageway hewn into the rock and heavily patched with cement leads a
short distance in to the bowl wall, with a door on either side. Lit by
regularly spaced glows, the white-washed walls have been covered over by
colorful tapestries, wall hangings and pieces of art made from metal and
wood. To the left of the entranceway, just a single step inside, a spiral
staircase opens out of the wall, leading upwards through the stone.
Further down, a doorway opens to either side of the corridor, while at the
far end, there is a hewn-stone staircase leading up to the residential
quarters, wreathed by two final doors to private quarters and the bathing
room.
The door leading to the east opens into an expansive room that seems to
provide both general working space - with long, bare benches and chairs -
and a cozy lounge complete with over-stuffed sofas and a few fuzzy
armchairs. Three tall windows are carved into the stone, and offer air and
light when the heavy wooden shutters are left open, though the lounge area
has to make do mostly with glows. A hearth at the back of the room
provides both heat and basic cooking facilities. The white-washed walls
are bedecked with decoration - from quilts, to tapestries, to wooden
carvings and metal sculptures.
The western door leads into another passage, off of which the main
workrooms have been built. The loading dock is at the northern end,
leading back out into the bowl, with the rest of the rooms leading deeper
and deeper into the wall.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Lycinea F 19 5'5" slender, blonde hair, blue-green eyes 0s
Z'riah M 28 5'9 muscular, dark hair, blue eyes 1m The misery of the day outside makes the cozy crafters' lounge all the more inviting for wayward apprentices or, apparently, a wayward Weyrwoman's assistant. Lya has no claim to this space, and yet she's settled herself in one of the comfortable chairs there as if she belongs, a book in lap, pen scrolling across the page. Sometimes a guy needs familiar company and Z'riah still has some of that around these parts. It's from the stairs that the greenrider appears, clothes not exactly crisp, his buttons only mostly done and his jacket folded over one arm. He throws that against the back of the chair he approaches in the lounge before he's moving around it to flop down, one leg slung over the side as he slouches down comfortably. He gives a heavy, contented sigh, eyes closed like he could take a nap right here. "Do you--" Lya's annoyed question when the neighboring chair is so cavalierly claimed to the detriment of her focus fades to nothingness as eyes round as she takes in the face belonging to the man who did the claiming. 'Mind' never makes it out of her mouth. In fact, all the words she could possibly have added after the first two seem to have fled her entirely. "Not if you do," comes Z'riah's quick comeback without even glancing over. But he does glance over a moment later. His cheeky grin disappears and his brows furrow at the blonde he finds sitting there. "Lya?" He sort of leans up to look at her, perhaps just a little incredulous, but he doesn't right himself just yet. It's definitely bizarre. It's probably inappropriate. Neither of those things stop the blonde from hastily shoving aside her book and pen and climbing over the conjoined armrests and into Z'riah's chair to seek his neck with her arms. It's probably not the most comfortable hug Z'riah's ever received but it's certainly a heartfelt one. Still, no words. "Shit." Z'riah can't be blamed for that reaction, but he's not trying to stop her from climbing onto him or anything. Not even if he gets a knee in uncomfortable places. His arms wrap around her as well as they can in this position and he laughs, "It's nice to see you, too, sweetie." Weirder still is the fact that when Lycinea sits up, her eyes are markedly wet. "I thought I'd never see you again," is an earnest declaration. The way blue-green eyes stare at the older man, she might not really believe she's seeing him now. She probably doesn't even notice the uncomfortable positioning of her knee digging into his thigh. His grin is back now, but there's nothing cheeky about it anymore. Z'riah is genuinely happy to see Lycinea. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again either, babe. I thought maybe you bailed on the Weyr life altogether." He doesn't complain about any knees, but he does attempt to lift her just enough to settle her into a slightly less uncomfortable position. "But you decided to come back, huh?" "Yes," is decisive, but then Lya's brows knit and she purses her lips. "I came back and you were gone." It's accusatory and the punch she aims for Z'riah's shoulder is probably the price for whatever feelings she's had about that since her return. It's a girly punch though, so whatever things she might have learned from the traders, it wasn't self-defense. Z'riah deserves that, so he doesn't protest the violence, girly as it may be. "I would've told you about it if you'd been here when you said you'd be." So it's clearly her fault. "Xev and I went back to Monaco. Right around the same time you left, I guess. But now I'm at Fort." It doesn't seem to be better or worse, exactly, for him to be there over Monaco. "I'm gonna miss being here now that I know you're back scowling at everyone." The way Lycinea rises (with extra pressure on that uncomfortable knee, oops) suggests she's fixing to scowl at Z'riah now. Her hands go to her hips as she turns back toward him. Instead of scowling, though, her expression turns defensive. "I needed more time. I couldn't even-- I tried to write you. And everyone that was important, but I just... there weren't words when I wanted them." She sighs reaching up a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "Well, it's done now," has the dismissive air of one who doesn't want to talk about it anymore, "you'll just have to visit me. There's nothing else for it." Z'riah winces when that pressure focuses in his thigh, but he doesn't move underneath her. "It's fine, Lya. Of course I'll visit you. Or you could visit me, you know. I'm sure you could find people willing to give you a ride. I even have my own weyr now." Not like that's ever really mattered that much with their friendship. "I'm glad you're back, you know." "I could," Lycinea acknowledges. "I went to Fort once, with Lilah." She purses her lips again, expression briefly thoughtful and then she shakes her head. "No, best if you visit me. You have a dragon and I have a lot of duties. You'd think it would be simpler to be Irianke's assistant when there are others being Irianke's assistant, too, but--" she shakes her head. No, it isn't so. "And you never get airsick." This is added with a smile that lacks genuineness but makes up for it in cheery brightness. "Maybe I'll come once to see your weyr. Is it better than your last one? The last one had a spare bed for me," nevermind that it belonged to a bluerider. "I have duties, too, you know. I don't just get to fly around on my dragon, and screw hot guys. I go places and drill and do things." Z'riah isn't exactly put off, though. "You should come see it. It's smaller, but my bed is nice and big. Plenty of room for both of us, if you want to spend the night." Granted, their definitions of 'plenty of room' might not be entirely the same thing. Lycinea's squint at Z'riah is dubious for the first. Perhaps that she doesn't argue means she accepts his words (or perhaps thinks the argument need not be made for it to still be true). Either way, her expression shifts to a thoughtful one. "Maybe. Do you have friends for when Yizibeth gets proddy?" She would ask since that's basically how their friendship was born. It's a question that makes him laugh, though there's some undertone that isn't quite as happy as he's seemed to be thus far. "Not really. Not like that. No one I, you know, trust, I guess. She seems to go a little off schedule when we move somewhere new. Did it here. Did it when we went back home. Now she's overdue again." It makes Z'riah grimace. It's apparently not something he enjoys being in the dark about. Lycinea's head bobs in decision. "Send me word when it happens and I'll see if I can get some time to come." She bites her lower lip. "It might be tricky with Niahvth on the Sands, but I'll try." She steps back toward her original seat to pluck up her book and pen and tuck them together against her chest. "Do you want to go for a walk? Or to the greenhouse?" She nods in the direction. "You don't need to do that, Lya. I'll manage just fine, I promise." He waves it off dismissively and focuses on the more interesting things. "I think the greenhouse sounds nice. Shouldn't be too bad in there. Tired of the cold already." Poor southern boy. "You gonna ask to stand?" he asks as he pushes himself up out of his seat and reaches for the jacket he'd thrown on the chair. "Do you not want me to come?" Lya's question comes with uplifted brows. The question doesn't stop her from turning to head toward the greenhouse. "Thinking on it," comes her answer after some paces toward their toasty destination. "The last time I asked, Irianke told me no." The pause is brief before she adds, "Rightly." Then, "Not sure the Sands are where I belong. Only it seems like assisting Irianke isn't where I belong either, now." "I dunno. It's not really that I don't want you to come. Just don't want to rely on you being there. I need to find people to help me there. Or learn to deal with it on my own." Z'riah grudgingly makes the last sound like both the best and worst option. "Hard to know where you belong until you're there. But I'm sure the hatchlings will let you know if you don't belong on the sands." "That's true," Lya grants grudgingly of the last. "Didn't think I'd belong with the traders, until I felt like I did one day." She frowns a touch, a look that only move that only deepens as she looks at him. "It's not as easy with you being there and me being here, not just a matter of ducking into the caverns to find me and all that, but I'm here now and not going anywhere. I don't want you to not rely on me," is quieter and perhaps at the root of her objection and argument. He doesn't seem sure how to answer her objection, glancing over as they walk, chewing on his lip until he says, "You're my friend no matter what. I don't want to lose you again." Then, perhaps trying to change the subject, "I think you'd like having a dragon. Except for the sex, I guess. Or did you finally get all wild while you were off with the traders?" The teasing comes with a slight nudge to Lya's shoulder. "You won't," Lya can assure easily now, while there's nothing that might challenge her response. She doesn't pursue that line any longer so if it was a subject change he was after, she'll be complicit in his effort. "Would I? Dragons seem like a lot of work. And there's the sex." She purses her lips in distaste. Does that answer his question? She lets that look sink in before she admits, "There was a boy. Someone else's boy." That last is amended quickly, and her hand reaches up to knuckle her blush-touched cheek as if she could force the blood back away from her face. "I guess they are a lot of work. But it's worth it. It really is. It's like having a best friend around all the time. One that you don't need or want a lot of space from." At least, presumably, that's how Yizibeth is. But the rest? Z'riah's eyes practically light up with his grin. "Was there? I need to know everything about him. Right now!" "He was someone else's," Lya repeats with a tone that suggests that ought to tell Z'riah everything he wants to know. "I'm not sure I could have a best-friend that I didn't need some space from," the fact that she briefly side-eyes the greenrider probably doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's just easier to talk about the boy for she adds, "He was nice to look at. Charismatic. Nice smile." She shrugs, as if she hadn't really been noticing these sorts of details about the boy in question. "You're thinking about it too much. You and your dragon kind of just... fit together. I mean, maybe not right away. But it's nice when someone always has your back, has your best interests at heart and all." The greenrider shrugs, admitting defeat at being able to explain it. "So you didn't do anything with him? I just thought that was gonna make the story more scandalous." "Some people aren't that way with their lifemates," Lycinea observes, and thoughtful though she briefly looks, she doesn't let her thoughts linger. "I didn't do anything with him," is a firm answer. It's effect might be tempered by the embarrassed, quiet admission: "I thought about doing things with him. I wanted to. Except that he was someone else's and he was-- well, I don't know. Something about him-- it-- wouldn't have been right." Probably beyond the whole being with someone else and all that. "What do you mean it wouldn't have been right?" Z'riah can't not ask. He probably does it before he realizes that it's not really his business. But he's definitely curious. The blurted "I don't know," comes with an exasperated sigh from Lya. She thinks on it a moment or two and comes up with: "Everyone wanted him. He was-- I don't know, smooth, I guess. Too smooth. He seemed so real until you saw that he smiled that way at all the girls. That kind of thing." She glances to Z'riah, a questioning look. Does that explain enough? Should she struggle on? "Oooh," says Z'riah, all drawn out meaningfully. He understands. "Those guys can be good for a fun time, assuming they aren't just pretty to look at. I can see why you wouldn't want to get too up close and personal." He flashes her a grin that must be meant as comforting. "You'll find someone you're comfortable with one of these days." Lycinea reaches out a hand to shove Z'riah. It's meant to be a light thing in answer to his grin and intended comfort. "I don't want to find-- I don't-- ugh. You're impossible." Yet, she's still walking alongside him making no move to leave. "Can we talk about something else?" Please? She doesn't say it, but she does sound a little pathetic in the asking. "You'll want to eventually!" Z'riah insists, laughing at her shove as it pushes him off balance enough to take a step to the side. "We can talk about whatever you want," he tells her, righting his path. "Did you get anything pretty while you were gone?" The first earns a roll of her eyes, while the second makes her hesitate almost more than the question of boy. "I'm..." Lya tries, stops and starts again. "For the first while, when the chores were done, I had a lot of time to myself, so I practiced my stitches by the fire. By the time I came back, I'd made a dress. I'm not sure it's pretty, though. I got the material in sections when I could make trades, but... I don't know, I like it." "If you like it, then it's pretty. No matter what anyone else thinks." Z'riah probably would've made a decent big brother. Sometimes, anyway. "I'm proud of you, you know. Going out, seeing the world all by yourself. That takes a lot of courage. And you're still just a baby." The last is teasing as he moves an arm over her shoulders for a brief squeeze. "I'm not," Lya sighs. "In a way it would be easier if I were. But I'm nineteen now," which is nearly twenty. "I didn't only see the world, but I learned that life can be harder than what I'd known, I learned about earning my keep. I learned-- well, a lot of things. But I'm not a baby anymore, Zif." She gives him an earnest look at that. "Careful if you choose to go on thinking so. One day I might shock you into speechlessness." A dire warning if there ever was one. "Okay, okay," says Z'riah, not entirely convinced, but willing to cede to her better judgment with his hands raising in defeat. "I know you could kick my ass if you really wanted to." So he'll totally move onto something else. "Did you learn to ride runners? Did you ever get over your motion sickness?" His gesture of defeat earns another roll of her eyes and this time a dismissive snort, "Things haven't changed that much." Lya answers of her inability to ass-kick. "No runner riding. The motion sickness... I'm working on it. Less now. Sometimes." So promising. "I did learn to swim," she confides after a moment, quiet pride in her voice. "Yes! Now we can go skinny dipping!" Z'riah sounds entirely too excited to be completely serious. But then he sobers before she can get too mad at him. "That's pretty awesome, Lya. You know I almost drowned once? I even knew how to swim." Maybe this isn't the best thing to tell her, actually, but it's too late now. "Xev saved me. I think that's when I realized I..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat before swallowing. Too soon. "Anyway, if you ever want to work on the riding thing, Yizi says she doesn't mind if you throw up on her, so long as you help clean it off." Given the previous shove, Z'riah might well avoid this one with a sidestep. There's no sign of anger, just the necessity to not let his quip go unanswered. Her brows lift at the greenrider's words. "You? Really? But you're from where they have beaches with warm water," as if this makes him a markedly superior swimmer. "Since I left?" She wants to know the timing of the near-drowning. "That's... Uh," is all she can manage for the dragon's offer. If she weren't Lya, she might say kind. Since she is, perhaps one can simply be glad she didn't say 'weird' aloud. Z'riah doesn't bother trying to avoid her shove. In fact, he's grinning at her when he rights his slightly skewed path back where it had been. "Nah, it was a long time ago," he says, sentimental nostalgia touching his voice. "Not sure he could pull me out of the water anymore. I have all these muscles and a huge... ego." He glances over at Lycinea with a teasingly obnoxious wink. "Yes, I can see how 'muscles' so large might see a man drowned." Lycinea replies deadpan. She gives Z'riah a look that mixes suspicion with the disgust she's prepared to have if her suspicion were correct. "Though really, I have trouble picturing you as ever having a smaller..." She trails off. "Me, too. But they're pretty little when us boys are younger, trust me." Z'riah offers her a grin that lacks that obnoxiousness from before. He might actually be talking about egos now. "Shit. Yizi says someone's looking for us. I need to head back. But I'm glad you're back, Lya. I'll come around again soon, yeah?" He leans in toward her to give her a quick hug, probably trying to avoid making her uncomfortable, then he's turning to make his way back to the bowl where his dragon is waiting for him. |
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