Logs:Being Respectable
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| RL Date: 29 July, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, Farideh, Pracor |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh has an afternoon chat with Jo about Weyrleadership. Jo pokes about and learns about Farideh's boyfriend. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 5, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Jolan/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions |
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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.
Heavy, driving rain makes everything a wet and muddy mess today. It's a leisurely afternoon on the patio that finds riders passing through or taking a break from the rigors of drills and sweepriding. Jo is likely a combination of both as she is found sitting on the edge of one of the tables, feeding her bronze firelizard Mime while she reads over a short stack of written hides. One of the inner cavern workers stands in front of her, talking continuously without much of her attention. "...and, maybe he's old enough, you think?" he asks at the end, catching her glance from her hides as she straightens up and answers back, "Ya know ya got my vote, Pracor. Ain' really up to me, ain' it." She passes the sheets of hides over to him, letting it hit his chest. Normally, Farideh is hard to catch on an afternoon, when there are wings to shadow, meetings to attend, and other areas to visit, but today she's just come in from somewhere she. She's still unstrapping her helmet when she walks up the steps leading onto the patio, obviously intent to making her way into Snowasis; except a familiar face readjusts her trajectory. "Jo," she greets hesitantly, glancing between the bluerider and the lower caverns worker, while hooking her helmet on her belt. Pulling off her gloves, one finger at a time, she widens her smile a touch. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." It's Pracor that looks Farideh's way first when she approaches, his arm coming up just in time to catch those hides before they fall. Looking her over openly, "I'll look into, promise," Jo, watching him, then the gold weyrling with just a touch of amusement, nods to send him on his way. Pracor hesitates, eyes narrowing slightly as Farideh before he nods to her wordlessly - nods to Jo belatedly - before he's on his way. "Ya mean yer not avoidin' me for takin' ya to deplorable places?" the bluerider greets her with a question as she watches him off before finally turning back to her. Grinning, "I figured ya would be runnin' in the opposite direction if seein' me comin' towards ya, Feline. Gettin' some fortification?" Her nod goes towards the bar. Openly suggestive looks, openly curious looks, and sometimes angry looks too, are frequent enough that Farideh isn't overtly bothered by Pracor's staring, though she comments to Jo, after he's left: "Do I know him? Did I do something to him?" And then, her gaze comes back to Jo; oh, hi, hello. "No, but I know better than to go to random bars with you now or to let you pick a location for a liaison." She tucks her gloves into her waist and wiggles her fingers, before nestling her hands into fists at her waist, to give the bluerider a singular brow arch. "I was going to see if any of Avalanche had made it back yet from sweeps --" By the way she shrugs one shoulder indolently, she's not very concerned. "What are you up to?" As if feeding her firelizard isn't good enough reason to be outside. "Likely a rare occurence he gets to be in a presence of a gold weyrlin'," Jo answers, deadpan. "Do ya always assume that someone's starin' at ya 'cuz ya caused'em wrong? Are ya sure yer ain' a thief or somethin'?" and now, it's the convict rider that's giving her some teasing scrutiny. On future bar trips, she flaps a hand at her as she drops nudges a bowl over towards Mime. "Ya got paid, didn' ya? What did'ja spend it on? A dress? Some trinket for a man yer pinin' over? Admit it. Ya had fun." She's just being obnoxious at this point, with a smile. "Betcha it's the best fun ya've had in a long time. I can think up another place we can go." It's likely to be worse than the last, too. There's a flicker of interest when Farideh mentions the wing, nodding once as she states, Shadowin', eh? As to what I'm doin'..." She looks down at Mime briefly before looking about them. "Catchin' some friends down at the inner caverns. 'Fore I head out." "No," Farideh is quick to assure, "but not that things have sort of blown over, now that-- with me and Irianke both being from Igen, I just can never tell--" She sends one last, narrow-eyed look after the worker and then gives her full attention to Jo, hip cocked and all. "I'm not telling. You'll have to keep wondering, but no. My idea of fun is a party, or travelling someplace new, or--" Her chin comes down as she glances over Jo suspiciously, slowly. "I might die instead of return if you take me again, and those guys thought we were-- whores or something." It's supposed to be a compliment, grouping Jo in the not-a-whore category along with herself. "Hm? Oh, yes, shadowing and-- where are you going?" she inquires politely, slanting a look at the bronze firelizard. Jo snickers, hitching a leg up on a seat. "What, there's opposition to ya both? Ya think...?" and she, too, looks toward Pracor's retreating back before she chuckles and shakes her head. "Nah," she says bluntly. "He's one of mine." She doesn't go into detail on what that means, but she does look so sure of what she says. "Ya should tell me, though," she goes on to say on the money with a look. "It must be a boy. What did'ja get him, eh? A pretty lil' locket with yer picture drawn inside? Fancy clothes for him to walk in?" She'll keep going, really. On them being called whores, there's open laughter from her. "So yer spooked by men callin' ya a whore? I can take ya to a party, too." It's ominous, maybe, but she doesn't linger on it as she looks down at her firelizard once she notices the weyrling's gaze on him and says to her, "His name's Mime. Ya can pet him. I'm headin' to Nabol. See my brother a bit before sweeps." She seems to have an answer for everything. "A lot of people don't like the deal Azaylia made with Igen or that an Igen-trained goldrider might potentially be Weyrwoman and is training the only other goldrider who might be Weyrwoman; not to mention I'm of Igen stock. People don't like change," Farideh says, a tad caustically, but then she scrunches up her nose at the bluerider. "Why do you think it's a boy? I could have bought a new set of jewelry or-- invested in some plan or--" She draws out a breath, clearly searching for something else to fabricate, and when she can't, she gives Jo a look. "I don't think he would like anything I would want to buy him, anyway," to put that part to rest, even if she has another suspicious glance for Jo. "What kind of party? Where?" She refrains from asking more questions, and instead takes a step closer to the table; not touching the firelizard. "It's fine." Beat. "Your brother?" "I don' really care where a weyrwoman comes from," is Jo's opinion, her voice easy in its delivery. "I'm more interested in how they run things. Anyplace can breed a bad weyrwoman. Even this one. Change is good, though." But then, there's something to poke and tease at: a boy. Brows lift at the weyrling as she appears flustered, watching and listening and dropping in an obvious, "If it's not a boy, then it's obviously a girl. Which, she must dress like a boy to catch yer eye, or she's very girly. What's his name?" If Farideh thinks she's going to drop it now.... She shakes her head with a smile on parties, she hitches a slight shoulder and she answers, "Nah, Feline. If I start tellin', ya won' come. Ya'll just have to trust my judgement," and she gives a sage nod. Mime takes an interest with Farideh when she moves closer, leaning forward as if there's something on her worth sniffing as Jo answers on her brother, "Might be hard to believe, darlin', but even I have family. His name's Jolan. A guard like the rest of my family. Gotten back in touch'n he's interested in meetin' Tacuseth." "And? How does Irianke run things?" Undoubtedly, Farideh has heard the rumors and nighttime noises, but she doesn't betray any opinions on her face other than avid curiosity; this now, more later. "Better? Worse? Since you have lived to see-- how many weyrwomen now?" Her lips twitch slightly and then smooth into a pretty pout, accompanied by a beleaguered sigh. "It might be a spiderclaw, for as much as it matters. His name is Drex and he doesn't dress like a girl, and I doubt he'd appreciate me telling him what to wear." She shifts her weight closer to Mime, but still doesn't touch the firelizard. "You're as bad as R'hin. Never telling your reasons, your purpose, always keeping everything close to your chest. Sharing isn't the worst thing in the world." She takes a breath before continuing, "That ought to be nice. Do you think he'll like him? Tacuseth?" Jo pauses on answering about Irianke; it's hard to tell what she's thinking, her face composed as she regards the weyrling before she answers, "Too early to tell, ain' it?" wry to the end. "I have my expectations. Will she be like Azaylia? Aishani? If ya have access to the same files she does, then ya know I was from the latter's camp. I remember Tiriana, Lujayn....Iolene. Granted, back in those days, the last thing I was focusin' on was who was in charge. I knew'em by name, nothin' more. Not 'til when 'Shani was Brieli'n Taikrin was Weyrleader." Leaning back, "I'm a lady of change, Feline," she admits soberly. "I don' believe in things always stayin' the same. Things should be shaken up. People should be challenged. I think Irianke shares in that view." Gaze pointed, "What are yours?" she asks now. As for her boy, getting a name, "Drex," she caresses the name on her tongue with a playful smile. "He doesn' sound like some fancy boy, does he? He a patron of the mines?" A criminal, in other words. Mime inches closer to Farideh as R'hin is brought up and the bluerider quips back, "One who trades in secrets usually aren' so easy to supply their own. As for my brother, the Weyr is an anomaly to him. He's never left Keogh, at his age. Tacuseth will awe him'n next he'll be wantin' to taste this life." This, she gestures about to indicate the Weyr. "Is it? It's been-- months and months since Azaylia died. I think she's done a good job of it. I've seen-myself-- where certain systems were lax and abused, from previous--" Farideh waves on hand around, purposefully not filling the blank she's left with any names, past or present. "I think she's been good for High Reaches." Her expression might project that she has more to say, but she wisely doesn't explain her perspective more, instead plunking her fist back on her waist and giving Jo a ruffled look. "No, he's a perfectly respectful sailor on one of Lord Devaki's ships. Not a criminal, not from the mines, and not a fancy boy. Do you think I like boys in lacy pantaloons with their noses in the air?" She glowers, but it's all for show. "You're both full of it," she returns, tossing her head, before she gives a more serious, "Is he very old then? Older than you?" "Azaylia's a good person," Jo is quick to say. "Had nothin' but respect for her." One can almost hear the but, the missing ending to that that she doesn't continue. "Many agreed with her," she notes. "Most, even. She'n K'del are pretty traditional." One can believe she's studying the other, mentally filing away what's said and not said, but something far more interesting is happening - Farideh's flustering. Arms folding, "Oh-ho!" she catcalls louder than she should. "Respectable, ya say? 'N no lacy pantaloons at all on this Drex? So what does he do on this ship of Lord Devaki's, hmm? If he's so respectable'n all. Keepin' his nose firmly in front of him instead of up in the air. Is his hair perfectly coiffed'n, more importantly...." and it's important enough for her to lean towards Farideh with that suggestive smirk as she asks, "...what's he like in bed? Since we're sharin'." She snorts on her comment of R'hin her being full of it, shrugging as she lightly states, "Says the one lookin' to steal all of our secrets. Gotta give to get, darlin'. Jolan's older. They're all older'n me, though he's not that much. Too old to Impress any dragon, but he makes a good guard, like I would've. Have ya gone to see some of yer family since now ya can Between?" "Traditions must be kept, but it's best practice to--" Farideh flicks a glance to Jo, self-consciously. "Progress when the rest of the world does." And that's all she has to say, honestly! "Respectable. Sailing is a worthy profession-- they do have a seacraft, after all, Jo-- no his hair is not coiffed in any manner." She's on the verge of rebuking the bluerider for those insinuations, but blushes down to her roots instead, waving her hands frantically at the other woman. "I'm not telling you that, especially not in public where other people can hear," pairs well with her flustered expression and ruddy cheeks. "You're--" Grumpily, she shakes her head, but relents to say, "Not since we first got our weyrs. They came here. I haven't seen them since. It's weird now-- it's not the same, a whole different world outside of theirs. They'll never understand and I doubt they want to, and it's hard to see them living that life, doing the things I used to do, taking for granted the things I wish I could still take for granted. You know?" "Not everyone thinks like that," Jo says of both tradition and progress. "There's many that think it's tradition that only matters, or only change - like me. I came from a place of tradition. It did no favors to me'n mine." A flustered Farideh makes a happy Jo, apparently, when there's blushing over the mystery man named Drex. There's low laughter and an innocent look as she counters on professions, "Is he seacraft?" she bluntly asks now. "Tell the truth. I do believe there's a profession out there that deals with acquirin' things, too. A craft of some sort." Thieving. "'N really," she adds now, looking about them, "I'm sure it's nothin' these folks haven' heard already. This isn' a hold, darlin'. I hear men in ships can be quite hungry when it comes to company. I've heard many things." She's terrible, really, but on family, she relents long enough to nod and say, "They're not meant to get it. Mine'll never. Mine still has no idea where I am, save for Jolan. Yeah, I get it. Kind'a makes ya not so close'em with them anymore." "Some things don't need to change," Farideh specifies, but she's still bothered over the intimate details Jo is pressing for and only gives that topic half as much thought. "No, he's not seacraft-- he's selfmade-- selftaught-- whatever. I don't pretend to know anything about the sea, but he's not like that," she says, her lip curling in disgust. "He's my boyfriend, he's not out scavenging for legs and breasts like you." Annoyed, she half-turns back towards Snowasis. "I hope you have a lovely visit with your brother," is what she says, before she turns all of the way and starts moving towards the entrance. Jo could continue the topic of politics, but there's Farideh answering for her lover and the knowing look she's leveling at her in return for it says it mostly. "Not seacraft," she echoes. "I hear there's a fancy word for that out there." It's a fancy word she's not saying - not when boyfriends are being declared and breasts are being talked about. It's that that levels a throaty laugh in the gold weyrling's wake, only tossing while she's in hearing range, "So interested in my scavengin' life, Feline! We oughta trade stories after all! Until then," for the bluerider is staying, at least for a few moments more as she collects up Mime and the bowl in preparation to depart. |
Comments
Alida (19:18, 30 July 2015 (PDT)) said...
That's naughty Jo for you! ;D
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