Logs:A Personal Mission
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| RL Date: 13 April, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alida's on a mission, and Azaylia's her target. They talk and have tea, sorta. |
| Where: Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 7, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'zin/Mentions |
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| Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Accessed via a narrow staircase from the Weyrleader's Complex, or from the broad, sunny ledge beyond, this weyr was clearly designed to be for one of the weyr's junior queens. Spacious, but not extravagant, it boasts a well-sized outer room, narrowing in front the well-sized dragon couch and ledge beyond. Much of this main room has been turned over to a couch and several chairs, which circle the hearth and the blue rug set down in front of it. There's a low table here, too, set in the middle of that rug. A tack-cupboard stands tidily behind the couch, keeping out of sight a rider's paraphernalia. Three low steps lead up onto a peculiar little landing, just large enough for the brand new desk and set of shelves that have been placed there. Here, too, there are definite pointers to the lived-in state of the weyr: the desk could in no way be described as tidy. Behind the desk, a narrow passage leads in an inner set of chambers, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area. A decent-sized bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter. There's a nightstand on either side, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf to hold toiletries. Unusually, the walls, ceiling and floor of this weyr have all been whitewashed thickly, covering the natural stone. The hearth is brand new, too, as are most of the built-in fittings, as though they have recently needed to be replaced. A pause in the weyrling's frenetic activity means a spare moment or two for Alida to do some things for herself... and today, this means getting in touch with Azaylia. Over towards the weyrleaders' complex the blonde strides with purpose, finally clearing her throat outside of Azaylia and Hraedhyth's weyr, then calling out briskly, "D'you have a few minutes, weyrwoman?" Hraedhyth is absent from her ledge today. It's not so odd, what with weyrlings to watch over and neighbors to visit. For a moment it seems though Azaylia is also gone, until, "Yes, hello?" Walking down the few steps from her desk, the weyrwoman balances on one foot in a lean to peek and see who it is. "Alida." Confident only after the vaguely familiar voice has been matched to a face, "Of course. What do you need?" Righting herself, she straightens with a warm smile, beckoning the weyrling further inside. She was almost ready to turn and leave on her Azaylia-hunting task, but with that answer from the other woman comes an unseen nod to when the goldrider calls the blonde's name in recognition, Alida stepping smartly deeper inside until she's standing a few feet from the taller female. "Nothing I need. It's a personal mission... Waki said y'might be interested in workin' out with us." A small lift of gently arching brows silently inquires as to whether she's correct in her assumption. "Oh? Oh! Yes." Azaylia recalls, rekindled interest flashing in the goldrider's gaze as she looks to the weyrling. "I'm often running in the morning, before the bowl gets too crowded for it. I thought it'd be nice if we could run together." The words carry as much weight as her soft voice, thinking out loud rather than insisting on it. Arms slide from side to back, folding behind her as her expression shifts to easy curiosity, "I won't if you're against it?" She won't go butting in where she's unwelcome. "Is it only running you're interested in?" Alida inquires in her usual fashion after she's heard Azaylia out, a faint quirk and curl of one side of her lips, a faint flash in clear green eyes perhaps subtly challenging the goldie to inquire of more physical training. "Waki 'n I do a blortload more uv' training with medicine ball, weights, calisthenics 'n stuff." Finally, "Shells, no, I don't have a problem with ya'... just as long as y'understand we tend t'push ourselves." Beat. "A small group uv' people that really get into it would make workouts less a potential grind." Wink. Azaylia's soft laugh is meant to encourage, "Good that you push yourselves. Weyrlings should. We may not have real Threadfall, but you all need to be fit for dragonriding." A refrain to a song likely sung often by their Weyrlingmasters. "I run and keep up on my calisthenics, yes. Depends on what I have time for, these days." A casual answer that may have her oblivious to any subtle challenge, or simply unbothered by it. "I'm happy to hear that you don't mind." Hands unclasp from behind her, the weyrwoman picking a slow path towards the couch. Alida is welcome to join her, and being a good hostess she lowers herself into a noticeable dip in the cushion: Bones' usual wallow. Well, since Azaylia seems to be offering... Alida dip sher pale head, makes her way over to the couch, and settles her rump to a cushion, the young woman soon smiling at the poshness and comfort of such a nice piece of furniture beneath her, for once. "Nice place..." is noted as green eyes flick all about the other woman's weyr, returning to Zay's warm browns soon enough. "Waki 'n I had our routine's in place even before we Impressed, apparently." A gentle snert of wry irony presages the blonde's laconic, "Didn' realize just how much time raising a baby dragon would take... kinda' cut inta' our routines." "I'd offer you something, but I just finished supper." And it's been cleared away, leaving only the painted ram's skull and fresh flowers to grace the low table nearby. "Though I've got some tea, if you'd like?" Azaylia tucks her long legs up beneath her dress, sitting on them as Alida joins her on the couch. The weyrling's unfamiliar smile has the polite curl to her lips brightening, "Thank you. I like it." It pairs well with the sympathetic pinch to her brow at what she likely sees as a happy complaint. "They are a handful when they're small. Sometimes even when they're big. How is Ilicaeth?" "S'alright; I just finished it, too..." Alida smirks, the blonde then nodding a couple of times. "I'd enjoy it. D'y'have mint?" For words of raising dragons, the weyrling gives a low chortle, and a low, "If y'd had any other dragon but Hraedhyth, I might question how much uv' a handful..." A look is given towards where the gold usually beds, 'lida looking throughtful for some moments, then returning her incisive gaze back to the weyrwoman. "He's...all himself. Wouldn' have him any other way... 98 times outta' 100." Smirk. It doesn't take long to stoke up a small fire, Azaylia doing her best to keep overly warm waves from reaching the couch. "I don't think so, no. I've got a spiced one... it's sort of like mint?" Apologetic tone doesn't linger for long. The weyrwoman doesn't return just yet, though there's obvious effort in giving Alida all of her attention as she goes searching for cups. "I wouldn't change Hraedhyth, either." Difficult or no, their lifemates are just that. "He's headstrong, from what I've seen." Or what she's been told of by the aforementioned gold. You two are getting along, then? The first months of my weyrlinghood were hard." She's hoping the blonde has been spared of a similar experience. "Almost any tea is good tea..." Alida murmurs about a hint of a smile as she watches Azaylia be a kind hostess. "Mint's just my favorite." Shrug. Sitting back some, listening to the other woman puts the blonde into a more thoughtful frame of mind, has her relaxing just a little more than usual, for she soon enough finds herself murmuring, "Most uv' the time. The other ones, we generally kiss 'n make up after an hour 'r two...with minimal bloodshed." Snert. A pause that speaks of not being used to much small talk presages the weyrling's low, and perhaps surprisingly melodic inquiry, "And how're *you* doing, Azaylia?" Not weyrwoman, not goldrider. The concerned glance eases up once it's clear that the mention of bloodshed is a joke, relief bringing with it another soft laugh. "That's good." Once she returns with empty cups, as the water boils, "I'll try to keep some mint around, then. I think I'd like to give it a try." Limbs are once against tucked beneath comfortably worn dress, perching in that dip with a gentle look of surprise at Alida's question. "I'm fine." An instinctive response, not that it makes it any less honest. She understands, and supplies a more satisfying, "Healthy weyrlings, steady work, no one's going hungry... Things aren't ideal, but they're fine." Whispery soprano ends, though the sentiment isn't so cleanly cut. Things are fine, for now. "Was kinda' surprised Ilicaeth didn't trample, claw up anyone out on the Sands..." Alida notes when Azaylia figures out she's at least partially kidding, the weyrling looking a tad surprised in her own turn for a moment when the goldie speaks of keeping mint around. "I find it...calming, yet clearing." A look over to the fire formerly built while the weyrwoman's chatting has the weyrling watching the strange patterns the dancing flames make, the palest-blonde's lips twitching at some particular thought before she murmurs, "Is anything ever ideal...'r even close to it?" Sounds like a rhetorical question, for she's going on with a rather gentle, "Just wanted ya' t'know that you got an ear if y'ever wanna' bend it." A mellow, but significant look is slid over to the other female, Alida nodding once to put more emphasis behind her offer. "*This* particular weyrling isn't fragile, 'r afraid uv truths...or afraid uv' conflict." "It's a good thing he didn't." Azaylia is certain of this, elbow sinking into the back of the couch as she faces the weyrling. Knuckles prop up her resting cheek as she relaxes, "I'm at least glad he doesn't take after her that much." If at all. Rhetorical question goes unanswered as it should, if only because the goldrider likes to take her time. Missed oppertunity isn't seen as such, moving on with a gentle incline of her head, "I... Thank you." There's some surprise that slips past the gentle curl to her lips, "I don't want to burden any of you weyrlings, though. You should be focusing on your lessons, your lifemates." Not terribly telling, whether Alida's ears will remain unbent in the future or not. "I do appreciate the offer. It's very kind of you." "He was so damned determined ta' get t'me..." Alida murmurs of Ilicaeth, the weyrling then shaking her head and smirking...though the expression contains much more that's warm than dark, for once. "He's got some intense hero-worship uv' her goin' on, right now..." is offered - for further humored cogitation - of the woman's blue. As for the rest... "Always up t'you, Azaylia. Offer's always there." Quiet, firm, yet mellow is the blonde's voice, soon noting again, "Oh, b'lieve me, I *am*. Been doin' not much uv' anything else fer months. But now that I got a little more time t'myself now 'n again, I prefer ta' spend it doin' stuff outside uv' raising my brash blue baby...well, half the time, anyhow." Smirk. For the very last of what the weyrwoman says comes a slightly brusque, "I must be gettin' weak." Eyeroll. And then up she stands, looking at the cup that the other woman holds, then sliding her gaze back to browns. "If y'don't mind, I'd like that tea...but I have some other things ta' take care uv' before I get back ta' being grilled by 'caeth. If I promise ta' take care uv' yer cup, would y'mind if I took it with me?" Just as the water is hot enough for a proper cup, and when Azaylia's steeping the brown, spiced brew, "Does he? That's just so..." A soft hum that's meant to say what words can't-- clearly happy, if not gushing. "I imagine that might stop, when you've got a weyr of your own and Hraedhyth insists on visiting." As the gold is wont to do, forcefully cuddling those who tolerate it when she's not being monopolized by a certain brown. She reaches over once the tea seems just dark enough to remove the leaves, "Weak?" Forgive the light scold, "I don't see it as being weak. In fact, I think it says something about the strength of character to reach out. Especially if you're not comfortable doing so." So light, so easy, and yet there's a hint of the maternal that makes what she says a little too relevant. Even after Alida asks, she's pushing the ceramic cup closer, "I trust you. Bring it back whenever you're able. Careful, it's hot." Obviously. "Really?" is suddenly noted around a grin when Azaylia speaks of Hraedhyth visiting her progeny, Alida trying to picture her blue hanging out with the massive gold...and finding such an image in her head worthy of a very rare giggle. "Mm..." is all the blonde will allow herself to comment of the other's words of weakness/strength, her hands carefully accepting the cup of steaming tea from her hostess, pale head bobbing silent thanks. "Thanks fer that..." is murmured to Azaylia's words of even that small trust, a quick nod following such. As she pads slowly out of the weyr towards the bowl, a quiet murmur might be almost overheard: "Sound like my ma." Grunt. "Maybe that's part uv' why I like ya." Something certainly has Azaylia's expression softening as she watches the weyrling leave from her spot on the couch. The quiet of the weyr is heavy, thoughtful, face reflecting such as she extends her break for just a little longer. There's tea to be drunk and work to be done, in that order. |
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