Logs:A High Reacher?
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| RL Date: 7 June, 2012 |
| Who: Leova, Brieli, Via |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The morning the noose is found, Leova and Brieli meet and chat about that, family, food and gratitude. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 12, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Still early in the breakfast cycle, the main cavern's busy enough, though surely not as much as it had when Thread still fell and wingleaders still required an early rising. Of course, the bakers have always had to get up early, and it's the fruits of their efforts that a woman in plain workaday clothes is chewing on. When she can, anyway. There's a distracting little girl on her knee, after all, one who looks to be about a Turn old if that, made the more distracting when the dark-haired man on the girl's other side gets up to leave. The woman looks up, low-level panic briefly visible in those amber eyes, and tugs him down by the wrist for a brief interchange before he can complete his getaway. And then she's tending to the child again, more or less alone this time, and if her gaze lifts now and again to where the noose had been and lingers there... well, soon enough her attention's yanked down again. Almost EVERYONE's attention is drawn up to that spot where the noose once was, even for such a short time so early this morning - and Brieli is no exception as she comes down the steps from the kitchens with one of those big, napkin swathed baskets that usually contain warm, tasty baked things in one hand, a full mug in the other. She almost trips down the last step, so focused on the spot she is, and she shakes her head once she's reached level ground, the look of a too-early morning or a too-sleepless night about her. Even so, she's close enough to spot woman and distracting girl - maybe she can help. Lowering the basket before the near-toddler like a gift, she asks, "Would you like a warm sweetroll?" Oooh, a treat. Maybe one that will let mommy have her breakfast. She offers said mommy a quick smile. It's so hard for a mommy to say no after the child is asked, and after a quick moment of indecision, this mommy doesn't even try. When she looks at Brieli, there's ruefulness and thankfulness in her brief nod, all rolled up into one like that pastry with the sweets sprinkled on top. Or rolled in, or braided, depending on just how creative the bakers felt like being on a day like today. "A small one, please, or a larger and half for me," requests Leova, while her daughter stretches to reach and grab just as much as Brieli will let her. "Thank you. Everyone's so... tetchy, this morning." Brieli tries her best not to let the kid grab a huge pastry or anything, then after the daughter is munching away, she puts the basket on the table to let Leova choose her own. Sipping at her mug, she offers another slight smile and a shrug for that combination nod - it happens, it won't kill her - then her dark gaze drifts back to that sconce over the entrance. Over a sigh, "I can imagine that they would be. It's rather melodramatic, isn't it? Seems a bit much to me." A beat before, looking back the rider's way apologetically, "But then, I haven't been here long. I shouldn't be so flip, I apologize. I'm Brieli, by the way." If she's apologizing, she ought to remember her manners. Leova considers her options as best she can over her daughter's head, tilting this way and that, and then finally reaches in for whichever one she can. "Who's to know what it's even about?" the greenrider begins, maybe bemoans, but then Brieli's introducing herself and after a glance at her sweetroll she replies, "Leova, and I don't mind. Have you tried these, with the nuts rolled in? They're tasty. Via..." She fishes a too-large chunk from her daughter's mouth and pulls it apart one-handed before adding wryly, "She's Via. Maybe you guessed." Picking out the indicated pastry - maybe she hasn't tried it - Brieli seems in no real hurry to be getting to the serving tables with her basket; she sits down to pair her klah with something sweet. It's early, after all, and stimulants are needed. Covering a yawn, "I imagine it's some sort of threat, if it's seriously one. It could be kids with a sick sense of humor. I had a cousin like that. He... grew out of it." With a smile for Via, then for Leova, she notes, "It's usually easy to find out a child's name, yes. Wait for the yelling. Unless it's a big family, then it's 'hey you'." "It could at that." Leova side-eyes the location in question, then goes about reapplying not-too-small crumbs to that wiggly toddler's mouth. Via's eyeing Brieli now, somehow speculative: perhaps it's the woman's hair? Her nose? Probably her hair, curled like that, long where her mother's is still shoulder-length at most, but also possibly something that only the little girl knows to see. Conversationally, "I figure it had to have been put up by someone from here, not a guest. Because," wait for it, "it took a 'high reacher.'" The greenrider's smile is sudden, and then she's lifting another piece of roll only just barely low enough for Via to grab: she can learn to be a high reacher, too. "Don't I know it about family, though. Glad your cousin grew out of it, even if it took awhile. Our family wasn't so large, but we were girls, so I reckon that blended in a little more." Brieli takes a big bite of her pastry, not too worried she might not like it, apparently - after munching away and chasing it with a sip from the mug, she eyes Via back as speculatively, as if she might hold the key to some great mystery, or even the origin of the rope itself. The joke is enough to loose a laugh from the seamstress - she must be sleep-deprived - and she grins over at Leova, sighing, "That would be nice, though I don't think the girls were all that much better sometimes. Always had someone visiting, it seems like. Which was good for me, I think - I learned a lot about kids, like they like to do weird things. But it would have been nice to not to have to share the bed all the time." "All the poking and squirming and... just missing a moment to think," Leova commiserates, though it's somehow wistful too. "Did yours snore? Mine mostly didn't, unless a cold was going around." Via's nose is clean of bodily fluids, anyway, if not bits and flecks of pastry. She sighs suddenly, a heavy thing for such a small body, and lies back against her mother's shoulder like a sack of flour. Leova pats her absently, running her fingers through the curling hair, extricating another crumb and setting it on the edge of her plate. "Do you see yourself having your own, someday, or helping with the nannies? Or would you rather get away and stay away from all that." Not without some weakness for the cuteness of kids, that heavy sigh draws an 'aww' out of Brieli, looking at Via with an isn't-that-cute expression. "Tired," she says, in that tone adults only really use for children or other adults they think are being babies. To Leova, with a roll of dark eyes, "Yes. Exactly. And there wasn't a lot of snoring that I recall, but the colds were the worst. When someone got sick and you knew you all were going to get sick. And sometimes, that went not-so-well." She purses her lips, taking another big bite of roll rather than continue on that line; with a shake of her head after, "No. None of my own. At least, that's what I think now. I'd rather not. Though I don't mind helping out, now and again; I suppose it's just my own I don't want, I don't mind borrowing." "Yes!" Leova exclaims, though it loses much of its volume in her care to not disturb the indeed-tired little one, as though she were an unpredictable wild creature that likely has claws. And possibly wings. Via yawns, a great big toddler yawn that just might give Brieli a great view of her tonsils, and then her chin slackens, those amber eyes like her mother's already all but shut. "Can just imagine," this with a grimace. "Especially if there's three to a bed. Or the bed pushed against the wall on the side, and... good, you're not put off your food altogether. I didn't think." She eyes Brieli's, gauging how much might be left, and then comes that fleeting smile again. "Not wanting your own, though, I reckon I understand that, all right. At least you're in the Weyr. Have more choices." Toddlers may not have claws, but they go shrieking pretty loud. Watching Via for a moment, Brieli grins and notes, "I always wonder if they know how good they have it here. The food is good even when it's bad, it's warm, you get your own bed, and if your parents are riders, you might have the run of a weyr." Wryly, "I suppose they don't say 'weyrbrat' for no reason, yes?" As for being put off her food, she widens her grin and polishes off the roll, just to show Leova there's no issue. After draining her mug, she agrees, "This is very true - and part of the reason I came here. Even sewing here is more interesting than there. And no one was taking decorating duty upon themselves." That last is said lightly, another glance up above the entrance. "Don't know that they do," Leova says after a moment. "Nor sit still for being lectured about it... not like that's a surprise," and just one corner of her smile lifts this time, if subtly conspiratorial, as though she might have been one of those runaways herself given her druthers. As Brieli continues, she nods here and there: certainly no argument about weyrbrats. Clear interest enters her eyes at the mention of part of the other woman's reason, becoming an amused murmur about how when she's bored, she can fly off and work in different light for a day... becoming another glance back up, following Brieli's. Then, with some resignation, "Well met, Brieli. I'd better get her to the nannies before we upset her schedule." It's a tough job getting up and not waking the girl up, but she gives it a go. "Who sits still for being lectured about anything?" Brieli asks. It's a fair question. She too smiles a touch - then looks fairly interested at the idea of working somewhere else whenever one likes - but then, there's that resignation. She'll jump up to try to help Leova with the not-waking Via if she can at all, grinning at the emphasis on 'schedule'. Quietly, "Well met, Leova. And tell her the same later. We can maybe chat more another time, when you're not on her clock." Leova's child-encumbered shrug may not be much of an answer, but she's smiling just that touch more, and certainly the assistance doesn't hurt: "Thank you," she murmurs as though she doesn't wish to wake the baby, as though the cavern weren't plenty loud. Still: it's /her/ voice. "I'd like that, Brieli. Clear skies, hm?" Hoisting the toddler a little higher, she makes off with her... but only after a self-conscious comment about how the drudges will get the dishes. In that way too, it's a different world. Even if the drudges will, Brieli isn't doing anything after aiming a little wave after the departing mother and child; she stacks up what few dishes there are, takes up her basket and heads off through the cavern. She's got places to be today, after all. |
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