Logs:Back At The Weyr
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| RL Date: 19 August, 2010 |
| Who: Agnethe, K'del, Saliqa, Taikrin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Why did no one tell K'del Saliqa was back? |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 7, Turn 23 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
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| Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl. The sun has not long since gone down, bringing with it the end of a particularly beatiful summer's day. It's still pleasantly warm outside, though; it's no wonder the Ledge is well occupied by weyrfolk and their drinks. K'del's amongst them, sitting, for the moment, alone at one of the tables, with bare feet propped up upon one of the other chairs, and the remains of a beer in front of him. He's leaning backwards in the chair, staring - somewhat dreamily - up at the evening sky. With the number of folk taking advantage of the fair weather, it does present difficulties in finding a secluded place to sit. So it is that Agnethe, skirts around a cluster of people and bends to ask someone if she can steal a seat at their table - their expression speaks volumes, and so with pursed lips she presses onwards and it is K'del, lucky man, that her eyes light on next. A drink of her own in hand, wine glass with something light-colored in it, she passes that way, and taps the base of her glass against the back of one of the empty chairs. "Mind?" she asks, embracing brevity. It's been a beautiful day well-spent for some; the evidence of such colors Saliqa's cheeks from some earlier exertion, the red filling out her already dark skin. With skirts wrapped half around one hand, she keeps them away from the tromping boots of other residents, favoring what looks to be an already torn section. But there's contentedness on the not-quite-resident's face as she rounds a strolling couple. Her hop-skip step throws off enough balance that she ends up landing slightly off-balance, tipping vaguely into Agnethe's personal space -- and then bumping just barely against her. "Mmm! Exc--" Eyes stray to the sitting Weyrleader and suddenly Saliqa spins in the opposite direction, ducking her face away from view in an even faster turn, "--uuse me." It's not that Taikrin is drunk, though not only does she have a drink in hand, but she is well-saturated with that good beer-ey scent. The cocky grin and proud strut are more than can usually be accounted for by a good stiff drink. As she rolls in from the Snowasis, she's got the air of a woman on the prowl. But maybe the mild inebriation can be blamed for the way she waves a hand and calls out loudly, "Saliqa! Hey, over here!" as she spots the smaller girl. Obviously, she's not noticed K'del sitting /right there/. "Mm?" It takes K'del a moment - maybe two - to get his head around Agnethe's request, and then his attention shifts towards her more consciously. Of course, that happens at much the same moment as Saliqa comes into view and knocks into the other girl. His eyes more or less bug out of his head, his eyebrows raise, his-- "/Saliqa/?" Despite this relatively impressive reaction, he /does/ still manage to wave Agnethe towards the seats, adding, sounding slightly abashed, "No-- course. Not going to take up a-- /Saliqa/. What're you doing here?" Terribly coherent, really. It is fortunate that the weyrleader gets that permission out of the way, as Agnethe was teetering on the verge of sitting regardless - that slight bump, which otherwise would have barely set her off balance, is enough to convince her - she sits, plunking the glass down, resting her chin in the the palm of her hand, and observing with frank interest as the ensuing hullabaloo. She doesn't know Saliqa, but it's easy enough to extrapolate that everyone else does and this promises to be an interesting exchange. Especially with Taikrin appraoching - Aggy will offer a wave of her fingers and a smile for the woman. Saliqa's retreat gets as far as the end of that turn away when Taikrin sort of destroys the purpose quite effectively. At the sound of her own name -- and the manner with which it's said -- the girl's shoulders stiffen guiltily, her turned away face forming a wince. But, as she primly rotates around to face the Weyrleader, and Agnethe by proxy, there's nothing but daintily folded hands and divinely innocent smiles. "Weeeeeyrleader. /Hi/," the gears of polite conversation visibly turn in her head, "May I compliment the Weyr on a... fine... set-up. Here." The hand that comes to wave expressively at the whole ledge serves to partially block her face for the accusatory //ahhh// that happens in Taikrin's direction. Taikrin dodges deftly to the crowd to come to Saliqa's side, grinning like a fool all the while. "Saliqa, I was just--- I-- what?" She's a little slow on the uptake tonight, apparently, but there's no way to miss Saliqa's commentary. There's an owlish blink and anemic wave for Agnethe -- she /is/ a pretty girl after all, but Taikrin's grin is rapidly devolving into her 'ohshit' face. It's only been seen a few times ever, and one of those times involved a wall of solid rock falling on her head. "Uh, Weyrleader!" Her voice is too high, a sure sign of guilt. "A-- Agnethe. Great night, ain't it? For a drink?" K'del gives Agnethe an increasingly apologetic glance, hurriedly noting, "Don't mean to be rude. Just--" His hand waves in Saliqa's direction, as though that explains everything. Surely it explains everything! Taikrin's entrance, now, draws a faint narrowing of his gaze, complete with some level of confusion that drops his jaw slightly, but doesn't get much further than that. He slides his attention between the brownrider and her friend, and then back again, and, clearly his throat, remarks, calmly, "Didn't know you were back at the weyr, Saliqa. Hello, Taikrin." The calm may even make it worse. Maybe. Even if it doesn't explain everything, Agnethe accepts it as a matter of course, waving off the apology whether or not he actually sees the gesture. "Naturally," she murmurs, oh so gracious, head tilted to watch the cast of characters amassing. Apparently for her amusement. To Taikrin she nods, eyebrows raising evvvver so slightly, and with a swirl of her wine she sort of... indicates the group as a whole. "Seems like. Getting better all the time." Whether the night is improving, or the being a great night for a /drink/ is left rather up in the air. Did somebody say /drink/? Despite the way Saliqa's diminutive stature already seeks to sink her into the floor, as Taikrin levels in beside her, the dark girl glances that way once -- and alights immediately on the cup the weyrling holds. One purposeful reach and the whiskey is hers and shot back in a smooth, natural movement. Which is completely ruined the next second when, after that horrid swallow, she nearly chokes. Fighting the strong reaction into a much smaller, but no less awkward, cough, Sal keeps a polite hand in front of her mouth until the moment is over. Then the cup is slam-- well, it's /very purposefully/ set down on the table as if all that embarrassing stuff didn't happen first. "Well, I am!" Shyness creeps in already, "... at the Weyr." Taikrin can only stare, dumbfounded, as the glass is snatched from her hand, and even more discombobulated as /Saliqa/ drinks it. All she can offer is a couple thumps on the back, but the motion is awkward and there's probably too much force. "She's uh--" A wild look flicks from K'del to Saliqa, then back again, dark eyes stark in a face gone winter-pale. "-- yeah. She's, uh. Here. Um. Visiting? Me?" The way she's asking it of /K'del/ probably doesn't lend any credence to the excuse. There's a note of desperation as she asks Agnethe, "Tell me about it, yeah? Havin' a good time, gettin' stuff done, sure y'got /tons/ of great stories 'bout bein' let loose an' all?" If K'del were staring at Taikrin any harder, at this point, there might be holes in her face. It's entirely possible he's imagining that there /are/. But when he finally opens his mouth again, it's to say, quite calmly, "Well then! It's good to see you again, Saliqa." Even if he's still staring at Taikrin. "Surprise your family let you come back... didn't I hear you were getting married?" But having said this, he reaches for his beer again, and allows himself, for a moment or two at least, to concentrate on /it/ instead. Agnethe observes the drink-stealing, chugging, and consequent choking with a widening of eyes. Rather than offer a comforting pat on the back, however, she slides her mostly full glass of wine across the table towards her fellow short girl. "This might go down a little more smoothly," she offers helpfully. Again she nods to Taikrin, almost cheerfully amidst all this awkward umming and aahing. Clearly she's not going to provide much of a distraction from the scene, but she'll respond to the brownrider's hook all the same. "Oh yes. Stories left and right. Fascinating business." Pause. "Looks like you do too." If all this business is any indication. Being offered a second drink to the awful experience of the first is enough to unglue Saliqa's gaze from K'del. It helps that the Weyrleader isn't expressly looking back at her, too. Brown eyes sliding to this (debatably) helpful stranger, the girl makes a sort of odd bobbing motion, up and down, her hand still gripping much of her skirt aside. "Hi, I'm Saliqa," she offers in a prompt, businesslike manner that's ignorant to how her name's already come up several times. Introductions are /polite/. Unfortunately, so is answering questions. "Surprise is definitely one word for this," she tells the Weyrleader a bit more coolly than before, one elbow crooking out to give Taikrin a nudge towards her ribs -- or whatever's convenient at that height. "But how-- generous! Of you. To keep up with that little ol' news. Yes. Marriage was the plan. I'm sure I... mentioned it all the time here... -- how are /you/?" No matter how hard Taikrin tries, she can't quite meet K'del's gaze for more than the barest fraction of a second. The burning, she can feel it! "I, uh-- oof." Elbow, meet ribs. She shoots a wounded look at Saliqa, but that doesn't stop her from looming closer to the shorter girl, as if to forestall any further violence. "If you ain't gonna drink that, I am," she murmurs, gaze setting on the wonderfully safe wineglass. "That Agnethe, she's a doll. /Real/ helpful." Her jaw snaps shut on the last words with an audible click, and she shuffles yet another bit closer to Saliqa, apparently content to let her speak for them both. K'del finally lets Saliqa take back his attention as the girl explains - however little she does actually explain. Certainly, it doesn't seem to be really illuminating him. His gaze flickers back towards Taikrin for a moment, but doesn't linger, so that, this time, he is actually looking at Saliqa when he responds to her. "Thought we were-- friendly, at least, once upon a time." Quietly spoken, almost thoughtful. "Ought to catch up-- shells." Timing. He looks frustrated. "Got to run. But. Ought to catch up. Can tell you how I am, then, mm?" And if his gaze flicks towards Taikrin, slightly, as if he's saying 'without /her/'... well. Maybe it's not actually that. He rises, regardless, and his gaze briefly slides back towards Agnethe, who earns a, "Sorry for the rudeness. Good-- evening, ladies." And he looks must frustrated at having to leave, though by the way he breaks into a jog? It must be at least a little bit urgent. |
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