Logs:Being Useful
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| RL Date: 17 February, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Kaeden, Alida |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia tries to make herself useful, Alida watches, and Kaeden is searched! |
| Where: Living Caverns, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions |
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| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. There are those that swear they'll never eat again after Turnover. Give it a seven and with enough broken resolutions the living cavern is flooded during dinner. It's as the crowd begins to lull that Azaylia appears from the kitchens, voice a polite murmur as she speaks with two other kitchen workers. There are tables to clear after the inconsiderate souls who have left a mess or those in a hurry, not that the admittedly knotless weyrwoman is allowed to do much. She does what she can, looking dutiful if distractedly so. Kaeden was one of those who ate with the dinner rush hour, but even now, as crowds thin and din lessens, he's still seated at one of the tables on the edge. Cutlery is stacked on an empty plate, only a few leftover crumbs proving it was actually used not too long ago. His cup still holds most of its contents, though, something dark like juice or wine, from what can be seen through the bubbled green glass. The visiting Hold resident hasn't paid it much mind in a while, though, intent as he is on carefully scrawling something across a much-scraped hide, doing his best not to smear the ink. Just as Azaylia exits the kitchens, Kaeden sets down his pen and sits up, stretching his shoulders back until he achieves the muted cracks of a stiff spine. The kitchen staff will eventually grow wise to Azaylia's talk-so-she-can-help strategy, and the tall young woman is shooed farther away. Rather than take the oh-so obvious hint, she spreads her helpful nature elsewhere, gathering plates and cups as she makes her rounds. There's a hearty pile balanced on one arm already by the time she reaches Kaeden's table, light voice giving a somewhat maternal hum, "Next time, it would be nice of you to take your empty plate to where it belongs. Uhm, thank you." For when he does it right in the future. She takes his dish, eyes flicking over the hide with innocent curiosity. Said hide would be mostly uninteresting, and probably even harder to read, as Kaeden seems to favor a small, tight style of penmanship. It's mostly neat, at least, though he's plagued by the usual difficulties of lefties. "My apologies, ma'am," the young man replies, smiling brightly up at the rider. "Just hadn't been sure I was done with it yet, but it seemed rude to get seconds when not everyone had eaten yet." He uses a small, much-stained handkerchief to clean his pen, then a small ink smear on his hand. "If you're going to need this table, though, I can scoot. And even help carry those dishes," Kaeden quickly adds, brown eyes twinkling. Finished with her abbreviated course of egg-watching, Alida paces into the living cavern in her usual direct fashion, the young woman not pausing at all to talk with anyone, though her green eyes do filter through and along everyone present. As she moves by supposedly sloppy Kaeden and chiding Azaylia, the two receive a slightly longer scrutiny than those farther away...but still the blonde passes on in silence, moving to the hearth in order to snag up some simmering wherry stew, leftover bread, and klah. Is there a draft? Alida's march is enough to cause a few loose locks of Azaylia's hair to shift, which has the woman turning to watch her progress. Kaeden's apology is distracting enough to have her back, "O-oh. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed, but some younger boys..." Ass. U. Me. "Would you like seconds?" She asks, fingers reaching back for the edge of his plate, "It's all yours. But if you're looking to keep busy..." She nods towards the rest of the uncleared tables. A suggestion that holds no real weight to it. Kaeden rolls a shoulder as he finishes cleaning his things, then gets to his feet. "I was just working on a letter to my father. It can wait," the visitor explains quickly, pausing to watch Alida's progress for a moment before turning back to Azaylia. "We're expected to clear our own dishes at the Hold, too." The young man gives the rider another of his more twinkling smiles, then starts to roll up the hide, tucking both it and the pen in his back pocket before capping the small vial of ink. "Never liked sitting around, to be honest. Name's Kaeden," he adds, starting to hold out the ink-stained hand, then switching to the right while pocketing the ink. Indeed, the woman tends to a more militaristic style of moving, though the sound of her bootsteps are rather light. Once she's availed herself of a tray, deep bowl, and cup, Alida moves to the hearth-proper, where she ladels up a full bowl of that stew, a solid chunk of bread, and a full cup of klah...lifting them up for a moment to inhale the scents just under her nose. A faint curl of lips into a quiet bit of a smile transform the guard for a moment into a simple young woman - rendering her into a person she might've been under different circumstances, perhaps - until she returns to present circumstances with a blink of once more wizened and guarded features. Off to search out a decent table she goes, the picky woman passing by one here, another there...even if they're utterly empty. What the heck. "Oh, you're from the Hold?" Azaylia sounds interested, if tired. She looks it, too, but is pleasant despite it, "High Reaches?" Since he made no mention of another region. Before she can complete her journey to the kitchens, a much younger girl steps out and takes her burden with scolding huff- one that's clearly learned from a much more experienced auntie. It has her smiling, though her words are for Kaeden, "Me neither. It feels good to move around." Not deterred, she begins to clear what had to be a whole Wing's table, "Azaylia. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kaeden. Settling in alright?" He might have heard her name, or know of the title that comes with it. "This table's open, miss, if you'd like," Kaeden calls over to Alida, adding a quick gesture to the one that is quickly emptying of both dishes and writing implements. He may have just given the blonde a once-over, but if so, he's mostly discreet about it. A little less discrete is the look of surprise on his face when he turns back to Azaylia; though the expression is a mild one, it's probably plain enough. "Uh..." He scrubs one last time at the ink smudge, then tucks the handkerchief in a pocket again. "'Reaches, yes. Ma'am. Sorry, when I saw you with the dishes, I didn't think you might be one of the weyrwomen." Well now...she's heard that name before, and Alida knows the person who belongs to it, even if by word, only. Given her semi-secrfetive little meet-up at Turn's end, the woman finds a real reason to search for a very specific table indeed, and actually finds it not too far at all from where Kaeden and Azaylia chat...no matter that one other person is already seated at the place for four. The seated resident gives Alida a definite glower - leave me alone! - which is duly noted and then ignored by the guard, who *almost* takes a seat kitty-corner from him...until Kaeden makes his offer. A long look for the youth - 'lida contemplating said offer for some moments - and then with a shrug, she steps up to a chair at the table the two are conversing over, and takes a seat as far away as is politely possible. "Thank you..." is murmured laconically to the kid, her palest head bobbed at both folk before those incisive greens are turned down to the meal she's so hungry for. Nom. Naturally, Azaylia's gaze follows Kaeden's invite, and Alida is given a smile that's not unwelcoming. It has her missing most of the lad's surprise when she looks back to him, "Welcome to the Weyr, then." Her hands haven't stopped, piling dishes and collecting silverware so they can be neatly placed on top. "Azaylia, please. And, why not?" There's no hiding her curiosity, and perhaps a touch of worry. "Never liked sitting around." She offers, although quietly. When Alida arrives, she returns the nod with one of her own, not looking to interrupt the guard's meal. Kaeden has recovered from the momentary surprise in time to give Alida a wide and just slightly lopsided smile in return to the blonde's head bob of greeting. "Thanks, Ma--Azaylia," he responds, remembering the correction. "And just 'cause... 'weyrwoman' and 'menial labor' weren't things I thought would go hand in hand." At which point his dark brown eyes flick down to the weyrwoman's hands. "So to speak." Only upon occasion does Alida's head shift, her eyes flick over to her tablemates - to do otherwise would be impolite, after all - and one of those occasions is to meet Azaylia's nod and smile. Blink. A faint hint of some surprise is perhaps noted behind intense greens, and after a strangely hesitant moment, the guard manages to dredge up a faint hint of an upward curl of lips in answer before she's peering at Kaeden for a moment...then returning to eating. "I was a beastcrafter before I was a weyrwoman." Not that she's boasting, despite the weak note of pride, it's a fact Azaylia has never tried to hide. When Kaeden looks to her hands, she offers her palm playfully. They're not the hands of a handyman, but they are calloused to prove she's not just trying to gain lower cavern cred. "I like labor. Menial or hard." She admits somewhat shyly. Her dark gaze catches the faint curl of Alida's lips, and it's enough to prompt her to speak, "Can I get you anything?" Already walking around the long table, gathering what she can before it's stolen away by exasperated kitchen staff. Kaeden is far slower to collect dishes from the departed dining wing, but likely out of a small degree of uncertainty, going by his face. Whether said uncertainty is due to Alida, as he notices the peering, or Azaylia, the dish-gathering weyrwoman, would be hard to say, as he gives equally questioning glances to both women. Turning back to Azaylia, he nods in reply to her comment about labor. "Just feels better, being useful," Kaeden says softly, reaching to grab the last couple plates with a clink of flatware. "But weyrwomen have lots of useful things to do, right?" Another flick of green eyes over to those hands Azaylia shows Kaeden proves not much to Alida, given she can't notice fine details at her position, but there's words she finds it in her nature to respond to, after her gaze drops to her food again. "The most honest work there is..." the woman comments - more murmurs, really - in a likewise quietly prideful fashion. More eating takes place - the stew giving the palest-blonde something else to offer a bit of a token half-smile to, again - and soon enough she finds her head subconsciously bobbing once to Kaeden's words of being useful. Another, almost comically large blink and peer over presages 'lida's low alto answer back to the other femme's inquiry, "No...thanks..." and then she's returning to gnoshing on her bread. Azaylia won't go foisting her hospitality where it isn't wanted, giving Alida a small nod as she declines. The guard's murmur has her smile recovering, "It's what my Papa always said." Kaeden's words have her pensive, perhaps nervously so, not realizing that her burden has been swept up by another worker, "Of course we do. I did some hidework today," What she could find, "So I thought it'd be nice to help out today in a more direct way." Her lower lip is worried some, change in subject not as smooth as one might hope, "What brings you to the Weyr? Were you stolen in the night by a rider?" With such a large clutch, she can hopefully make such jokes. Just able to make out Alida's murmur, Kaeden is quick to smile in response, nodding in further agreement. "To be honest, I don't have much of a clue what a weyrwoman does," he admits, smile definitely crooked by now as he shrugs... or maybe he was just handing off the stack of plates, which is followed by snatching up a mostly unused cloth napkin from another table so he can clean some gravy off his thumb before the napkin is tossed on the next empty plate. "Sto...? Oh! No," Kaeden replies with a short laugh. "I work at the docks, and we received a couple crates for one of the Crafters up here. My boss was really keen to make sure stuff didn't get jostled or broken and stuff, so I brought it up for him personally. Some of these crafters tie a lot of marks into some pretty tiny, fragile stuff, you know?" "Mine too..." Alida responds in a mumble after Azaylia speaks of her own father, the usually taciturn blonde then shaking her head almost ruefully before she self-silences and returns to eating. And then it's pretty much listening time again, though this time she doesn't let on to such with surprise reactions like speaking in return...'lida mulling over what Kaeden has to say about his own form of honest work, though she gives another quiet nod in silent commentary. Though the long table is now clear, Azaylia is slow to move on, perhaps intrigued by Alida. She's clearly interested in Kaeden, certainly, "Oh. One of my friends used to be a sailor." The weyrwoman sounds impressed, "That sounds like a big job. You must be very responsible?" Much to the relief of the staff, she's letting them get on with the rest of the task for now. Leaning a hip against the table, she perches there with hands folded atop one thigh, "No interest in the eggs, then?" Not insulted, just curious. "You should at least take a peek, before you head back home." Kaeden leans his forearms on the back of one of the empty chairs now that the dish clearing task has been fully taken up by others. He briefly regards Alida again, brows knitting slightly in an expression of muted intrigue. "Big? Nah," he soon answers, turning back to Azaylia as his expression clears again. "Someone had to do it, and I'd never seen the Weyr. Seemed like a good time to do it." He shifts, leaning lower, but not quite resting his chin on his arms. "I'd heard folks are allowed to go see them now. Figured I'd do that before heading back to the Hold, though... if this wind keeps up, I'll probably have to stick around a little longer." Not that he sounds the least bit upset about that. Let them be intrigued. Alida retains her self-sufficient ways even in company, slowly finishing off her meal with the delight of one who doesn't often have much spare time for such simple pleasures like a dawdled-over delicious meal. A faint pair of nods is given, however, for Azaylia's words to the youth of oggling the eggs, another unfathomable hint of a half-smile given for her own memory of the scene out there on the Sands. "I'm sorry about that. With two queens on the sands, and eggs being stolen at Fort..." Azaylia is used to making excuses for her lifemate, "Hraedhyth is... protective." Difficult. Despite what embarrassment she might feel at this fact, nothing can dim the fond smile that claims her lips. "I think they're wonderful." Totally not biased, "But I'll let you judge for yourself." Since she's allowed to be curious, she'll casually glance towards Alida now and again. It's the natural progress of her gaze, looking over the caverns like she is before, "No interest in the eggs, other than looking?" Her head tilts some, gaze settling on Kaeden. "Hey, queen's prerogative," Kaeden replies with an easy grin, holding up a hand to ward off the apologies. "They're hers, after all. We're just spectators." He goes back to leaning on the chair, grin now solidly in place. "Interest," he echoes after a pause, followed by a longer one, then finally a small shrug. "I don't exactly come from rider stock, and dragons don't exactly have a need for docks and ships." There's another pause, then, as Kaed splits a pensive look between Azaylia and Alida, then out over the rest of the cavern. When he turns back to the two, his grin has taken on a slightly rakish quality. "Then again, what kid hasn't run around riding a broom pretending it was a dragon, right? Or played at egg hatching on the beach? Don't know many people who don't at least wonder about it." Which is all to say, reinforced by his tone of voice, there's plenty of interest. Listening can garner one so much information... both useless and priceless. Alida picks up yet more of the stuff in doing such at the table, her lash-hidden gaze firing now and again. If Azaylia's inquiry is meant for her, such goes right over her head, the guard soon enough giving a contented sigh and a gentle pat of her sated stomach before rising in a smooth, easy motion, pushing her chair in before mumbling to the other femme, "Fierce lifemate you got. Pretty, too." Again, there's understated approval in her clipped alto, the woman then lifting her tray before noting glibly to Kaeden, "Dragons don't care about human stupidities." Like rank, Blood, or profession. To both: "Thanks fer the company." And off she strides without another word, without a wave, without looking back, depositing her dishes in the big bin left for such, then pacing in militaristic fashion out of the huge cavern, towards the inner ones that hold the housing area. Odd bird, her. Azaylia looks startled as Alida speaks, expression quickly turning flattered, possibly flushed if not for her darker complexion. "O-oh. Thank you. And, you're welcome, ah..?" But before the goldrider can get a name, the guard is taking her leave. The compliment to her dragon is a enough to have her press with some excitement, "She's right, you know." Whoever she was. It's a hint at what had been, this suddenly cheerful young woman perched on the table, leaning forward with her ankles crossed and swinging, "Standing for a clutch is never a promise, but it's a possibility... The chance to turn pretend into something real." Her smile shrinks, a bit more modest now, "You're a nice boy." Manboylad. "Candidacy is hard work. It keeps you busy." What might sound like a deterrent to some, she offers as if it's a bonus. For whatever reason, Alida's comment about human stupidities makes Kaeden momentarily uncomfortable. Whatever the cause, however, he's happy to leave it unspoken, just waving a couple fingers at the departing form of the odd blonde. After she's certainly out of earshot, the young man utters a low "huh" sort of sound, but that is all. For now. As Azaylia seems to brighten, Kaeden's happy to just go right along with it, following the woman's cheerful words with his own bright smile. "Oh, I'll bet. I mean, the ones who've come back to the Hold now and then tell stories about their own candidacies, but... seems to me it's different for everyone. Sounds to me like it could be a blast, though." The bright smile falters for a second, then turns into a questioning look. "Wait, was that an offer? Or..." Flounder. There's a quiet laugh to go with her smile as Azaylia slips off the table, smoothing her hands down over her skirt. "Yes, that was an offer. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this." It dawns on her then, and she murmurs, "You're the first person I've ever Searched." Brown eyes snap back up to him, suddenly apologetic, "If you accept, that is. You sounded interested, and we need good, honest people to Stand..." Qualities which she seems to think Kaeden has, for some reason. Just like that, she's easing back into that timid state, hands behind her back and looking faintly hopeful. "Would you like to Stand?" Uncertainty and at least a small dose of panic filter through Kaeden's expression as he stares wide-eyed at Azaylia for a few long seconds. "I... will have to rewrite that letter to my father," he says, expression only changing after he's said it, as if the words had triggered a shift in his head, accompanied by a widening smile. "And one for my boss. I'd love to stand for your lifemate's clutch, Azaylia. Though... I don't really know what to do." The smile quavers for a brief moment, then settles into something more relaxed. "Then again, it's probably hard to find a better fount of information than a weyrwoman." It's his uncertainty that has Azaylia swooping in, a light touch to the slightly taller lad's elbow meant to comfort. "That's alright." It really sounds it, the way she says it. "You'll want to find the Headwoman's office, and tell her you're a new Candidate. She'll give you a white knot, and explain the rules." She goes over it carefully, sympathetic but not slow enough to insult. "Then someone will show you where the candidate barracks are. There'll be a chore list." He can figure out the rest. Even if he can't, there are people who will be happy to explain in greater detail. "I remember how hard it was to get used to the Weyr, myself. If you have any trouble please let me know?" "I will," Kaeden reassures the weyrwoman, nodding to her as he straightens a little bit more. "Rules and chores. Sounds easy enough. As for the Weyr..." He trails off and gets another crooked slant to his grin. "I wasn't really in a hurry to leave. Thank you for the chance to stick around a little longer. I'll do my best to make sure your first Search isn't one you regret." Those high cheekbones of his are taking on a downright cheery glow right about now as he takes a step toward the corridor that would take him toward the mentioned headwoman, though he pauses long enough to point a thumb in that direction and asks, "Now's good?" Azaylia unintentionally leads, or follows, Kaeden towards the caverns, still keeping that light touch on his arm. "There's something about this place." She agrees, although with a touch of the romantic. "You're welcome. And thank you for accepting." The weyrwoman will let him go as he enters the corridor, watching with a gentle curl to her lips. It blossoms into something more at his question, hand giving a slow shooing motion, "Now is good." She confirms with a breathless laugh. "Have a good night, Kaeden." After he's gone, she'll turn to find that most of the tables have been cleared while she's been distracted. With a sigh that's not all that unhappy, she decides to visit the galleries. |
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