Logs:Artistic Expression
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2014 |
| Who: Evanthe, K'zin, Tolman |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin is giving Tolman a lesson in sketching expressions. Evanthe has a good one. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 11, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Avetha/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, T'volt/Mentions, Thraland/Mentions, Vana/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Tolman by K'zin. |
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| Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr 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.
Over to the side of the cavern, where the passageway leads off into the residential quarters, Evanthe stands with a woman who is older than her, taller than her, rather prettier than her, but other than those slight differences very similar in appearance to her. And, given the consternation on Evanthe's face, it would be fair to guess that they are related. Though their conversation is in muted tones, with the other of the two laughing here and there with an affectionate tone, as soon as the older girl leaves Evanthe's mood darkens. Her expression is anything but sunny as she strides across the floor to dump herself unceremoniously into one of the large comfy chairs conveniently close by to K'zin and his friend. She's got a good glower going, and if it's aimed in their general direction it's only because... well...they're there. "Yeah, it's hard to get a variety of expressions, really. At least in terms of models. People don't want their faces to get stuck like--" And that's when K'zin sees Evanthe and her glower. "Like that," he points. The teen next to him has the decency to thump the bronzerider on the thigh and blush where K'zin seems to have no sense of shame for pointing it out. He even goes on to say, "Hey, girl," which might arguably be better than 'hey you' since it's marginally more specific, "Would you mind holding that expression and posing for my friend, Tolman, here?" He reaches a hand to clap it down onto the apprentice's (Beastcrafter by the knot and smell) shoulder. The apprentice looks rather like he'd like to deny knowing the bronzerider, but clearly they're acquainted. Evanthe fails almost as soon as she is asked the question, a certain incredulous line appearing between her eyes as she looks up at K'zin - hey girl? However, at his actual request, she gives it some measure of dark consideration before slouching down further in her chair, propping her head on her hand, and continuing to glower with all she has in her. "All right. Man. Going to be doing it anyways. Do what you like," she mutters, and if the look she shoots towards Tolman is slightly forbidding, it probably is absolutely nothing personal. "Do you both like living at the weyr?" She'll throw that non-sequiter out there, for them to consider while she models. "Great!" If there was any kind of awkwardness in getting that set up, K'zin is oblivious. He claps Tolman's shoulder in a 'well, go on' way before he leans back on the armrest, putting his arm onto the back of the chair to slouch while the Beastcrafter shifts slightly to be flush to the other side of the chair and give Evanthe an apologetic glance as he flips the sketch pad to a fresh page. It's not quite a chorus because K'zin's vocal, "Yeah, but I have a dragon, so Holds and Crafts wouldn't be practical for me nowadays," and the apprentice's understated nod are a beat apart. "I'm guessing you don't," the bronzerider asserts, "what with the-" his sentence is finished by his pointing finger indicating his own face which does a facsimile of Evanthe's glower. "Been here long?" Evanthe makes a faint noise of understanding, an 'mmmph' in reply to K'zin's answer. It makes sense. The conclusion he draws, though, receives more of a reaction. "No," she says firmly, holding up a finger and raising her eyebrows for emphasis. "No, I do." This apparently is an important distinction for her to make, though an instant later she remembers herself with a flicker of her eyes towards the toiling artist, and she subsides back into a scowl. It apparently is a familiar enough expression that she can adopt it at a moment's notice - who's to say she has no talent? "Been here a bit. Near two months. Family. They sharding hate it, already talking 'bout moving on, back to a hold, back..." She waves a hand dismissively, as though those other places aren't even listing. "Shit." Hence the glower. Just as Evanthe catches herself with all that eyebrow action, K'zin is turning his pointing finger toward her face as though to silently remind her. Tolman doesn't seem to have minded much, his eyes bouncing between girl and paper as his pencil moves. "So don't go with them," K'zin suggests the obvious, shrugging his shoulders like it's nothing. "How old are you?" Evanthe nods faintly at the reminder, but over all does a fair job of sitting still, save minor infractions like foot tapping. Or the eye-roll that K'zin gets in response for his helpful advice. "Yeah. Clearly," she mutters. "So damn simple." To her, clearly not so simple, though the intricacies of her brain process aren't elaborated on. "I'm seventeen. How old are you?" "Twenty-one, but I did it at twelve. Don't see any reason you couldn't do it at seventeen." There's an appropriate pause before K'zin adds, "Unless you don't have the stones." He grins back at her, a goofy sort of look, really. Tolman pauses to thwap K'zin in the thigh with his pencil, "Tell her the rest." He prompts. K'zin's glance toward the younger man includes a roll of his eyes and then, "My family stopped speaking to me when I stayed and then disowned me when I Impressed." Not to scare her or anything. "It's not so bad, really." Scowl intensifies. Evanthe doesn't take kindly to the suggestion that she lacks the stones, despite her being knee-high to a firelizard. The furrow in her brow eases somewhat though as he goes on - the rest of the story plainly gets her attention, a thumb going to her mouth to chew on the nail as she stares up at the rider. "When you were twelve? Damn." This all is given due consideration, modeling temporarily forgotten. "Sounds about right," she says softly. "'Bout what I could expect. There's definite upsides there." It's a little wryly said. "How soon did you get searched? I mean... how long were you alone?" "Make sure you get that little line that isn't there anymore," K'zin reaches down to point the appropriate spot on the paper. He means one that came and went with her scowl's changes. "Well, I was apprenticing to a Journeyman here, so that's why twelve and makes it a little different. I Impressed when I was your age, but I wouldn't say I was really alone before then. There are enough people in a Weyr that you're bound to make some friends in spite of-" This time when he indicates her expression (hopefully he means her expression and not her face) the pointing finger circles in the air toward her. That's when Tolman clears his throat, possibly trying to distract from K'zin's lack of manners tonight, "There are advantages to being away from you family, but I'd think it'd be tough if they'd completely disowned you." That makes K'zin shrug, but at least the young man is weighing in finally in more than a nod. For whatever reason, the revelation that he was apprenticed in something earns him a grunt (she's a graceful one), an implied "of course." "What craft? Swear, if you're a harper, we may not be friends anymore," she says. Jokingly. Mostly. And friends at all may be a reach, but her standards are comfortably low. "There are a lot of people. That don't mind the-" And she too will gesture at her face, with an added scrunching to illustrate. "Or the foul mouth. Even the fucking weyrwoman is benevolently tolerant of my ineptitude." She sighs, brushing a stray lock of fair hair out of her face - and reassumes her pose, apparently completely unperturbed by any lack of manners being displayed. "It would be tough. But maybe preferable. 'Cept I've never remotely been on my own and have no marketable skills to speak of. Wasn't exactly my life's ambition to end up doing laundry my whole damn life..." She pauses. "Except I don't exactly have a life's ambition at all, so what's there really to complain about?" "Are you sure I can even get over the-" And K'zin's pointing to her face again, "Enough to be friends?" He feigns a dubious expression, but his grin is back a moment later. "Smith. You're safe unless you have strong objections to sweaty men beating on steel." And other things, presumably. "Which Weyrwoman?" The bronzerider is curious. "Well, it probably doesn't matter which; they both probably would be. Azaylia because she's too kind and Aishani because she's too far above it all." There's a roll of brown eyes, but none of it's said in an unkind tone. Tolman is surely listening to it all, but his eyes are back on his drawing. "Nothing wrong with doing laundry. If you stay you can do laundry for the Weyr and I'll pay you to come clean my weyr." That's a great reason to stay right there right? "If you're any good at cleaning, that is." K'zin eyes her. Evanthe gives a little half shrug, full of feigned carelessness. "You've been talking to me too long now. It's too late for you. My charm will undoubtedly have won you over by this point," she says, that wryness back in her tone, a slight sense of poking fun at herself which... well, if nothing else, it's an improvement over the mega-grumps. His choice of craft earns a raised eyebrow and a nod of approval. "Yeah, that's all right then. That sounds just fine." And isn't he glad to get her stamp of approval? "Uh... Aishani? With the nice clothes and all that, right? Only met the other one briefly. Both seem nice. Like... people. 'Course I don't know them well or anything," she adds quickly, not to eliminate the possibility they're madwomen deep within. His job offer? Why, that even earns him a laugh. Well, a soft one, more of a chuckle - but Tolman's drawing will surely be suffering if this continues. "Fannnnntastic. That sweetens the deal, for sure. Weyrs are made of stone, right? Can't do much to hurt stone." She pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. "You aren't serious, are you?" "Ha!" K'zin's laugh is a single amused burst. "Clearly, I'm helpless against it." Yeah, he's grinning. They're definitely friends. At least loosely. "What's your name anyway?" Because friends should probably know each others' names. Probably. "I can just keep calling you 'girl' if you'd prefer," he offers nobly. "The goldriders... give it time," is K'zin's advice with a bemused look. They seem like people. Maybe Tolman's pencil is moving faster for the laughter. "Yeah, and you're in luck, someone already graffitied my murals, so you can't hurt those either." Then he shrugs. "I am, but if you don't want the job for extra marks in your pocket, I can find someone else." There's a dramatic sigh, "My friend must be better looking than I am to have found someone willing and reliable." Evanthe's definitely making an expression fairly close to smiling. It's a vast improvement to how this conversation started. "Nah, won't do. It'll piss me off and I don't have anything good to call you in return. Hey, man. Doesn't have the same ring. I'm Evanthe," she supplies, holding out her free hand to be shaken if he feels so inclined. "My ma's a weaver, Vana. My sister is Avetha, precious gem of the harpers, evil incarnate." Just to give him the full picture of... everything. The persistence that his offer is genuine gets her thinking, it shows in the renewed solemnity of her face, the fidgeting of her fingers against her cheek. "I could actually stay," she muses aloud, just to hear it. "That's fucking terrifying." It's still a smile that she shoots him, though, after stating so. "Hey, if your handsome friend already has help, guess I don't have many options, do I?" The hand being extended requires that bronzerider go to the effort of sitting up and leaning her way, which he does, to clasp her hand briefly. "K'zin," he offers with a smile. "It'd take the rest of the night for me to give you the rundown of my family which, by the by, took me back after a time." In case that gives her hope for her situation. "Your sister sounds awesome," he adds very tongue-in-cheek. "It is terrifying." He'll give her that one freely. "But like I said, it's not so bad. You know, after you get through all the shitty parts." His headshake about her options is solemn, "And you'd have to hitch a ride all the way to Telgar if you wanted to sweet talk my friend into switching up. You're not-- prude, are you?" She hasn't been in the Weyr long after all, and this seems to be something of a job requirement. "Yeah, the shitty parts," Evanthe repeats slowly. There's the rub, right? She shifts in her seat a little bit, oblivious now to Tolman, and tucks her legs up beside her in the chair. It's large enough that she looks quite the little girl, even as she murmurs another thoughtful curse word under her breath. "Hadn't really thought about it seriously. It was there, on the edge of my mind, as soon as my mother started grumblin' about the lasciviousness of bronzeriders and amoral women. Women brownriders." Scandal, scandal. "Knew it wouldn't be long, but hadn't really considered it..." She narrows her eyes again, squinting over at K'zin suspiciously. "You one of those friends that tends to be a bad influence?" The suggestion that she's a prude results in a blank blink, then she snorts, biting back the laugh that threatened to come. "By my mother's standards, by Hold standards, no. I'm not a prude. However, if cleaning your weyr is a euphemism, we're gonna have to really negotiate on wages." She's joking. Promise. Tolman has rather faded into the background, but doesn't seem to mind since he doesn't draw attention to himself until he needs to nod to contradict K'zin's playfully offended, "No!" to being the kind of friend who's a bad influence. There's amusement, of course, for Evanthe's mother, and a roll of his eyes for wage negotiation. "I don't pay. I'm pretty enough not to have to." Even if his friend is prettier. K'zin even bats his eyes at Evanthe for a moment, pursing his lips a little as if he were one of her mother's clothing models. "The last person who had my weyr had interesting tastes and I couldn't have you swooning when you see the mural on my bedroom wall." Non-Weyr girls swoon; it's a fact. "Why don't you go talk to the Headwoman and see what kind of job she could find you here if you stayed on. Living in the dorms aren't so bad. Well, at least not the apprentice ones. I guess the resident ones are a little different. You could talk to some residents that live there though. Make an informed decision." That doesn't sound like bad influence material, right? Or maybe it is since he's supporting a decision that will separate her from her family. "I believe it," Evanthe says solemnly, observing the lips and the posturing with its due appreciation. "I don't swoon." It's a guarantee. Good slogan. "Can't promise that I can clean worth a damn, but that's largely what they have me doing in the lower caverns, and doesn't seem like any of you rider sorts know how to scrape your boots off before traipsing across the caverns. So, I'm getting better at it. But I definitely don't swoon." She nods, a trifle dismissively with a wave of her hand. "Already living in the residents dorms. It's not so bad. Could be worse. Better than... well, better than things were before." Suddenly remembering Tolman, she glances over his way. "You about done, fella? Think I'm suppose to help with some soulcrushing menial work pretty shortly." K'zin's grinning for the duration of her response. "Oh, ooohhh." He's feigning revelation, "Scraping my boots before I traipse across the caverns." Then amusement, "Are you sure you're not the harper apprentice in the family? Listen to those words. Traipse. Lasciviousness." His grin broadens. Then, he too seems to remember the apprentice. "Oh, this is Tolman," by the way. The younger man is blushing a touch as he nods, turning the sketch pad for her inspection. It looks like her; perhaps even enough that she'd consider practicing that expression a little less. "Good man," the bronzerider's compliment might be for the sketch, but more likely for the timing of it. To Evanthe, with an exaggerated air, "We wouldn't want to keep you from such meaningful work." Evanthe shoots the rider a vaguely dirty look, possibly for simply insinuating that she could be a harper. "Well fine, then, I'll stick to the one syllable words from here on out. Not my fault I grew up with a learned family. Three older siblings, all journeymen now, I was bound to absorb some of their fancy talk," she says, even as she's shifting forward in her seat to give that sketch a thorough examination. Far from being dismayed by her glowering countenance, she is instead nodding with decided approval. "Yes. Good," she says, offering the artist a flash of a smile. "It's a likeness. Think that's how I look most of the time, so people would be sure to recognize me." She stands then, stretching her arms above her head to straighten out a crick, and sighs. Time for meaningful work, then. "It's a glamorous life, fellas," she says, with a shrug. A nod to each of them, and she shoves her hands in her pocket. "Gonna give your offer some consideration, K'zin. Thanks for the pep talk. Or moral corruption, depending on how you look at it." "Thank you, we dumb Smith-turned-bronzeriders appreciate it." Of the dumbing down of her linguistic choices. "Not all of us can be as smart as our dragons, you know." Whatever that means. It might mean K'zin had to ask for definitions while she was talking. Meanwhile, Tolman tears the page from the pad and offers it over. Maybe keeping it to have it glower at him would give him nightmares. "You just let me know. Got lots of takers and all," he comments, tongue in cheek before he's rising and stretching in preparation for taking his leave as well. "Don't work too hard, Evanthe." He advises. See? Good influence! He's concerned for her health. Evanthe accepts the drawing with a murmur of thanks, holding it gingerly between her fingertips so not to crease it. She's touched, there's a pleased quirk to her mouth as she looks down at her formidable expression. It's with care that she rolls it up, then looks back to K'zin with a raised eyebrow. "Well, of course you do. With the..." And she purses her lips as he did earlier, even bats her eyelashes. "Yeah, yeah. I generally try not to," she adds, as she starts heading away - a final glowing recommendation for seeking to employ her. A wave of her hand over her shoulder is her good-bye, as she heads out into the cold to whatever it is she's going to go do. |
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