Logs:A Little Gossip Between Friends(?)
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| RL Date: 30 July, 2016 |
| Who: Alysce, Tamsin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alysce and Tamsin might have made friends. They gossiped and talked about shit, so that's something, right? |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 6, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Allent/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Ellerey/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, J'nason/Mentions, K'hal/Mentions, T'zur/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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>---< Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr(#2203RJ) >-------------------------------<
A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a
refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework
captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the
day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the
dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and
various flora.
Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an
assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike.
Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting
in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving
is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the
softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst
the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this
a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit.
Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small
hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with
cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for
irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans
and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting
materials tucked underneath. It isn't unusual to find a crafter or two within the confines of High Reaches' greenhouse, given its close proximity to the complex that houses the Weyr's crafters. Today, however, that single crafter isn't of any actual use to the intricate systems being used in this warm, secluded transformed weyr, especially given the weather outside that has brought out the more useful crafters into the spring planting. It also isn't often that one can find Alysce at an instrument, but today she has a gitar settled in her lap. Her fingers drift across the strings, technically sound but it's obvious that she isn't playing from any place of passion or emotion. Instead, the notes have the precise sound of practice, no voice joined to accompany them as she plays, seated on a bench with her black, tightly clad legs stretched before her. Today's attire is functional for Tamsin, not leathers, but a plain set of work pants and a blouse that's seen its share of stains (with everything from what looks like paint to dirt to maybe even blood). Her entrance is quiet but her movements hold purpose, a rough sack in one hand. She pauses to draw a deep breath once she's stepped off the stairs that bring a person onto the ledge, but only that much dwaddling does she allow herself. Her goal likely seems obvious, given the way dark eyes latch onto the potting station with its tools and compost beneath, but the sounds of the gitar draw her eye. There's a hesitation, a decision, and then her boots carry her toward where the Harper is practicing. "Do you mind an audience?" is queried when there seems to be a natural pause. Alysce's fingers slow against the strings, resting for a moment at the question before she plucks the next string and then the next with careful precision. She answers only after she has resumed, a careless, "No, I don't care. Just testing out a new piece from the Hall." She doesn't even need to watch what she plays, though, as her dark eyes lift to study Tamsin under the fan of dark lashes. "I didn't think anyone'd be in here today. Most of the activity seems to be outside." "Oh, it is, but you see, I'm being selfish today," the subtle lean and softening of Tamsin's tone hints at an unwarranted confidence in a stranger such as Alysce. She wags the small (very dirty) bag. "I need compost for the pots on my ledge. But I'll listen before I get it so you don't have to smell the churned up stuff any closer than-" she glances to where she was heading and offers a wry smile as she looks back, "-well, than you already are." She observes the play a moment before her brows knit ever so slightly and she inquires, "Is there a method you use in learning it? Just the notes first or the notes with the notations for play or--?" If nothing else, Tamsin seems to have a genuine interest, though apparently no deep knowledge of her own on the subject. Dark eyes slide to the waggled bag, and Alysce agrees with a dry, "Yeah, I'd rather not have shit dirt flying around, inhaling it." Though, if that begs the question of why she's chosen to play in here, well, she doesn't answer it. Instead, she plucks the next set of strings on her gitar as her gaze moves back to Tamsin. "Boredom, mostly. That's the method. Read and read over and over again, and then I play with the notations over and over again. I'm still probably not playing it right, but if the master who wrote this has an issue with it, he can come down from the Hall and play it for me himself, then, can't he." "Well, some of it is probably citrus peels or greens," Tamsin returns, a hint of a dimple showing. Rotting fruit rinds and discarded vegetables are better than shit, right? At least she doesn't ask the predictable question. "Seems like a master mightn't spend his or her valuable time worrying over the learning of a singular apprentice not under their direct tutelage, but perhaps I'm wrong. I'm hardly an expert about master crafters." A subtle sort of smile of some deep amusement plays across her lips, "Not that I imagine your learnings aren't worthy of a master's attentions. Is this-" she gestures to the gitar, "-not your passion?" "Given that the master who wrote it is my father-- No, he probably doesn't spend his time caring," Alysce offers so dryly and offhandedly to Tamsin, an easy, open book. She plucks another cord, shrugging up a shoulder. "Is gardening yours? Or dragonriding?" The reply earns a brief look of sympathy despite the dry delivery. She reaches up to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear rather than making comment on the first. "Gardening... not my only passion. I keep a small herb garden on my ledge when weather allows for it. Mostly so I can make my own stew and such without bothering the kitchen for ingredients. Or my own fancy drinks." That comes with a wry smile of her own for some reason. I do like dragonriding much more than I ever thought I would just after I Impressed. I'm Tamsin, by the way. My lifemate is Tyth." She considers the gitar another moment, "What is it you like better than the gitar?" Alysce's nose only wrinkles in a gesture for that sympathy, and she strums another handful of notes, though these are discordant ones that might possibly have nothing to do with the song she plays. "Seems like a waste of time. There is the kitchens, and Snowasis, and basically somewhere to find anything that you'd want to dig around in dirt and shit trying to grow," she points out to the dragonrider dismissively. "But then, so is dragonriding, isn't it? Like, for our lifetime's, right now during the Interval. Only really useful because you can go anywhere that you want." A pause, and then she shrugs. Her only answer is, "I'm Alysce." "Only a waste of time if you don't enjoy it. I do," and therefore it's not, for her. Tamsin's tone and accompanying shrug doesn't challenge, in the least, that the story is quite different for Alysce. She studies the apprentice a moment before shrugging again. "Guess it's really a matter of perspective. I find purpose in my day to day, but not all dragonriders do. Seems to me that some apprentices might, as easily, struggle with a sense of usefulness. Just as a holder might. Just as anyone-" She trails off, shrugging a third time. "What I am hearing you say is that everything we do is basically fucking useless. And that is a statement I can get behind," Alysce punctuates dryly, soft amusement drawing at the edges of those words as she offers them to the other woman. She is quick to add, "I don't actually really mean that. We all have our parts to play, don't we. But, whatever. More power to you if you can find meaning and enjoy what you do, Tamsin." Alysce's summation makes Tamsin laugh, a light engaging laugh. "I'm saying some people could say so." Perhaps not this brownrider in particular. "Parts to play..." She weighs the phrase with a little wobble of her head from one side to the other. "I suppose that we are each players in other stories as well as the protagonist in our own, so in a sense I guess that's true. Give and take does seem to make the world go 'round. Until it's take-take-take and then there's trouble." The latter is a little offhand, but comes with a touch of a smirk before her expression softens again. "Are you being taken advantage of, dragonrider?" is what Alysce will counter with her own little teasing smirk. "That sounded a little pointed." She even lowers her gitar to peer closer at Tamsin, curiosity sparked. "Oh, please tell me you have some amazing gossip that goes with the statement." "If only," Tamsin replies with a laugh. "I'm sure my own story would be much more interesting if I were, but we can't have everything." She pretends a fluttery sigh then grins. "I always have amazing gossip. But we've only just met and I know little more than your name." Now she carefully arranges her features into a look of exaggerated judgment. "How do I know that my top quality gossip would be safe in your hands, Alysce?" Alysce huffs an appreciative laugh for the question, for the answer. Perhaps for Tamsin's refreshing attitude or finding someone that isn't put off by her own attitude. "What, you want your potential gossip partners to make commitments to you, Tamsin?" she counters easily, a buried smile at the corners of her lips. "I promise, promise I would never, ever abuse your gossip and I will give you all my own and if I do pass on your gossip it would be for a good reason and they wouldn't know who it came from, anyways." She pauses, quirking a brow, to see if that's good enough. "Why, Alysce," Tamsin breathes her name with an air of scandal, "Did you suppose I was easy? Next thing you know there will be a rumor saying so," she gives a furtive glance around, then smiles (practically sparklingly!) and concedes, to a point. "Well, seeing as how we're still getting to know one another, I won't ask you to be all mine, for now, but I will ask you to tell me what sorts of gossip appeals to you. I'd hate to give you vapid, useless things, unless you like vapid and useless?" She lifts her brows, curiosity coloring her tone. "Don't worry; I already have that rumor floating around and I'm not even a dragonrider. I'm sure you'll be fine," Alysce assures offhandedly, rather careless with her reputation as she taps a finger against her gitar. "We are at a Weyr, for Faranth's sake." She shakes her head for the question, considering Tamsin with a tilt of her head. "No, not really. I like to know about people. I prefer things that are at least half-way true, or have the chance of being true. Like, did you know that one of the weyrwoman's weyrmates goes around threatening people's lives?" Alysce's first makes Tamsin laugh, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, but only to alleviate stiffness from standing on the one so long - she still looks quite at ease, standing there. "Well, there's only one weyrwoman with a weyrmate here, so if it's here, that rather narrows things down," the brownrider replies with a mischievous grin. She gives Alysce a thoughtful look and then, "I can probably give you a list of people who are actually easy. I can tell you I missed most of the exciting bits of Ellerey's flight, but heard the winner had it rough, or Ellerey did, or they both did." So there's that, for a start. "Rougher than the usual flight stuff?" Alysce questions with a flicker of interest, obviously not quite getting flights but-- She has been at the Weyr long enough. She adds, "I am actually easy." A pause, and then it bursts out of her as if she's been dying to tell someone, and Tamsin is the first to hear as she smiles slyly. "I mean, I slept with a guy who held a knife to my throat. A dragonrider, even." "I heard a trip to the healers for at least one of them. Maybe both. I got out of there pretty quickly. She'd stomped on him-- the later winner-- just when I arrived. I was finishing my dinner when Tyth went after her." And apparently didn't leave immediately to join the rest. That part is easy to say, the rest pulls a funny sort of look from Tamsin as she regards the young woman bragging about the experience. "A dragonrider who held a knife to your throat. Did you... ask him to? Or was it..." She seems to be failing to come up with a better 'could be' situation since, well, bragging. "Easy and kinky?" She wonders, brows lifted, but no apparent judgment in her expression. Alysce's breath exhales in something that might be a laugh for the gossip, because she is the type to laugh at someone else's misfortune. But she asks easily, "Did he do something to deserve it? Or was it all of that dragon shit where they're in your head?" But then Tamsin is looking at her like that and asking questions--. "No, no. It wasn't like that. It was just-- He thought I was spying on him or something. But it was something interesting, I guess," she says. "Not in like-- that way. But things are so boring, even here." Her nose wrinkles slightly. "Do you never feel bored here?" "That is an excellent question. You could ask that blonde from Ista. The one that transferred in and is flying with Glacier now. He was there. Ghena, too." Tamsin makes the suggestions but doesn't offer to seek out the answers herself. "I'm told it's harder for some pairs than others to keep some measure of civility during a flight. Tyth has none, but I manage, usually." The rest garners a grin from the brownrider. "Well, as long as it wasn't like that," she dismisses. "Was he worried you were spying on him? Was he doing something spy-worthy or just full of himself the way so many of them-" male dragonriders, one might guess from the words and accompanying flippant hand gesture, "-are?" The last doesn't have to be considered long. "Sometimes, but as you pointed out earlier, dragonriders can go anywhere, so when I'm not earning my keep, I can go where I like, not that anywhere in particular is so much more interesting than here, but they are different than here." So that's something. "Oh. That one. No, thank you," Alysce replies with a wrinkle of her nose. Dryly: "He's an ass." She plucks a singular note at that before shaking her head dismissively. "I don't know. Even if I did-- Well, I don't actually want to die because I told anyone," she offers offhandedly. "I just want--. I don't know. Different is good. Where do you go?" "Is he that bad?" Tamsin's tone is curious. Apparently she must not know him from A'dam. "The one with the knife sounds crazy," she notes as an aside. "Was he at least a good lay? Crazy sometimes is, as long as they don't stab," the last is offhanded and might be a joke. "I go all over. It depends on the weather and my mood. I can't say I've spent much time at the crafthalls. Enough to look around, but crafters always have a way of making things seem ever in a quiet state of urgency and I prefer... well, either calm or exciting, but not urgent. It makes it feel too much like being at work, but not knowing where I fit in the pattern of things. An odd observer." She rambles a little, but perhaps she's never tried to put her choices into words. "Have you been many places?" she inquires of the apprentice. "Now that I understand," Alysce agrees to the point about crafters, finding no offense in it. "I was stationed for a while at Southern Boll Hold. And the Hall, of course. And I bum rides around with dragonriders, but it's not really the same, is it?" She isn't offended, either, by the joke about stabbing as she offers up a quick smile. "He's just-- Whatever," she summarizes of the Istan. The other gets: "He was. Like, it was hot, in that way of dangerous people ever, right?" Tamsin manages not to laugh this time, though her lips are pressed in a smile that might be keeping that laughter just barely at bay. After a moment she manages a very even and meant, "That's good, then," of the dangerous rider. "Bumming rides is probably as good a way as any to see more of the world. It's not the same as living in a place, but we don't move around much, as a culture. I mean, for the rare holiday, of course, and journeymen probably have more experience living in places than anyone else, but... There are perks to having a lifemate that can take you to somewhere different whenever you're feeling like it, so long as they're amenable," she adds the last as a good humored afterthought. "If you're getting bored and I have time, Tyth and I will take you somewhere different," she makes what must be a sort of standing offer. "Careful; I will take you up on that offer, you know," Alysce points out with a quirk of her brow. But as she says it, she pushes to her feet, gitar falling to her side carelessly with only her fingers holding its neck. "I'll get out of your way. So you can get your citrus and shit dirt. But-- I'll see you around, ok?" A pause, before she offers, "Next time, I'll have a better bit of gossip for you." "And I'll hold you to that," is rejoinder with veiled mirth. Tamsin grins at the apprentice glancing toward the compost. "You can feel free to stay and play. It won't take me long to get my shit and go," her lips press in that way they must when she's not letting herself laugh. "See you around, Alysce," is simple parting before she's going to tend to her task whether the apprentice stays or not. "You will," Alysce promises. And true to her word, she doesn't stay as the brownrider busies herself with the compost, instead escaping to somewhere less occupied. |
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