Logs:Dinner For Crafters
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| RL Date: 28 June, 2011 |
| Who: Beven, Madilla, Sibella |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Sibella brings dinner to hungry crafters. |
| Where: Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 1, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
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| Despite today's miserable sleet and freezing rain, not everyone can stay nice and warm indoors. Dinner time is fast approaching and Madilla, likely a familiar figure in her heavy coat and the hat she wears tight over her ears and curly hair, is trudging through the bowl towards the living caverns, having left the Craft Complex not too long before. She wipes inefficiently at her eyes with one gloved hand, evidently trying to keep the freezing liquids out of her eyes; it doesn't seem to be working too well. Beven is walking not much further ahead of Madilla, his head down, shoulders hunched forward in his own coat, hat pulled so far down one can't really see his hair, he looks more like a moving board than a person with his hands tucked into his pockets and leaning over slightly to protect his face from the breeze that blows the sleet around. A warm, soothing scent wafts through the bowl, only to be whipped away by the wind and sleet. Sibella's plump form precedes the savory smells, which are quite clearly steaming from the covered tray she carries. Headed toward the Craft complex with her tray for the unfortunate souls who find themselves away from the warm hearths of the common rooms and kitchens at this hour, she shields her burden carefully, though she herself is coat- and cape-less. Clearly the health of the bubbly pies and whatnots contained in her cargo are much more precious than her own. As focused as she is upon keeping her eyelashes from freezing over, Madilla can perhaps be forgiven for not noticing either Beven or Sibella until she's right up close to the later; she clearly hasn't smelled the goodies, either, though that could be due to the wind. Once she has, however, she stops short: "Goodness. What are you doing out here without a coat? Do you /want/ to get yourself sick? Come on: we're going straight back indoors." The caverns are a fair walk away, but Madilla - usually so soft and warm - is firm. Beven tilts his head to hear what's being said and he looks around, frowning a little as he tries to figure out if Madilla is talking to him, or someone else. Though that means he's pausing in the middle of the bowl on an icy night, not a good thing to do as his feet skid slightly, it's slick and sleety out so ice is no surprise on the ground, lets hope he manages to keep his balance as he turns some to see who the voice is talking to. The smell is faintly scented, but the wafting breeze makes identification of the meal impossible to make as he peers through the night. Sibella blinks, flustered, at Madilla, then smiles ruefully as she recognizes a familiar face. She starts to speak, then only shrugs and gestures with the covered tray toward the craft complex. "They'll be hungry. Everyone works late, not wanting to make the walk to the kitchens on days like these." Her lips and fingertips are slightly blueish, but she seems to pay this no heed, quite as intent on achieving the task she has set herself to as Madilla is on impeding her - albeit on fair grounds. She turns her head curiously at Beven, even as a shiver passes through her. Another rueful smile. Madilla, clearly, still hasn't noticed Beven: there's enough sound from her footsteps, Sibella's, and their two voices - not to mention the wind - that it's hard to pick up on anything else. Her tone is firm: "Don't be silly-- truly. Why didn't you put a coat on, if you're going to do that? It's miserable out here, and I won't have people getting sick over nothing." Pausing, she suggests, then, "Why don't I take it back with me? Lily's staying with Delifa tonight, so I've no reason to head over if I don't need to." Beven hms a bit, "Nasty weather to be out without a coat, gonna catch a bad cold running round without a coat and hat. It's not like you have fur or hide like the animals, and even they have better sense than to out in this without shelter from the wet and cold." comes the beastcrafter apprentice's comment as he eyes Sibella with a faint frown, not that said frown is really noticeable in the dark, wet night. Still at least he's not the one being taken to task for what he's wearing. Even finding herself harried along, Sibella manages to attempt resistance, "Oh no, that's *my job*. I haven't been to the Complex in a good while, in any case, and it'd be nice to visit." Not understanding the references to the names mentioned, she ignores this bit, only taking it from it that there are people staying in the Craft Complex tonight who usually wouldn't be. At Beven's two-marks, Sibella looks as though she'd throw her hands up in exasperation, or perhaps surrender, if not for the tray. However, she manages a self-deprecating chuckle at Beven's joke about the animals having more sense than she, "I know, I do. But with the kitchen rush, things get so hurried..." I didn't even think about anything but keeping the food warm. Speaking of which..." Sibella looks down at her tray, which is exuding a significantly decreased amount of steam. /Now/ Madilla turns, glancing through the dim evening at Beven for the first time; she lets her gaze rest there for a few moments, nodding her agreement, though her words are definitely for Sibella. "He's right. And regardless, it could have waited five minutes. Honestly, anyone who is too lazy to come across for dinner probably doesn't deserve-- take my gloves at least, will you? Please? And don't come back across until you've borrowed something from somewhere. Perhaps I'd better go with you." Her brows have knit in concern, her head shaking hurriedly. Beven chuckles just a little and he turns to continue on his way to the living caverns to get himself something to eat. "Well I'm off to the caverns to get some food, and to keep from freezing my tuckus off. So you all can stand here and chat, but I'm moving cause it's cold out here." he says before turning back around, skidding again on the slowly freezing, building rim of ice on the ground from the sleet, "Don't slip and fall, it's slick as snot out here." Sibella nods her agreement - she does indeed see the folly in exposing herself to this weather, and even gladly accepts the offer of gloves. She awkwardly tries to arrange her hands around the tray, but cannot seem to manage the heavy thing and accept, let alone apply, the offered gloves. For the sake of efficiency and not wanting to drop the precious pies, she casts a bashful look toward Beven. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name but... could you grab this for a second?" And then he's walking away, and Sibella's not sure he heard her, as she certainly can't hear a word he's saying as he walks away. Instead, she looks helplessly at Madilla. "'Slick as snot'," laughs Madilla, repeating Beven's words with obvious amusement, though it's certainly a true statement. She's about to add something - probably a 'good night!' or something similar - but Sibella calls him back, and she hesitates. The glance she aims at the kitchen worker is sympathetic; she pulls off her gloves one by one, hurriedly, ready to offer them as soon as Sibella is ready. "I can take it, if--" if Beven doesn't. Beven stops as he hears the question and he turns back around to help, might as well, not like he can get much colder as it is, though he is getting quite a ring of ice hanging off his hat as he moves, "Sure, I can do that, and the name's Beven, can call me that or Even, I answer to both, or even Bev, answer to that too in a hurry." He says as he takes the tray after a moment of regaining his balance with his feet placed slightly apart, "Best not to linger once you get those on though." With a harried nod, Sibella hurries through the process of burdening Beven with the tray, slipping the gloves onto her frozen hands, and grabbing the tray back. Her pleasure at now-warm hands is cut short as she realizes that Madilla's hands are now bare, and the steam from the tray is now almost non-existant. Even as she takes off at a brisk - careful! - trot toward the Complex, she calls over her shoulder, "Thank's Beven! I'm Sibillaaaa!" This last extended to ensure audibility. Her grin at Madilla is carefree, for now she has returned to the very important task. Now sans gloves, Madilla sticks her hands into her pockets - all the better to keep them warm. It leaves her torn, of course: to the caverns for a proper meal, or back to the craft complex for a pie? She evidently decides on the latter, however, because after a moment, she's hurrying after Sibella, calling back to Beven with the suggestion: "Come back to the complex and have a pie? It's closer than the Caverns, really." Beven hrmphs a bit and he looks towards the caverns, and then back towards the complex before heaving a sigh and he turns again to follow after the two ladies, "So long as I don't get yelled at for not eating a proper meal before I had desert. That would just ruin my evening, a lecture cause I didn't eat some dinner before my pie." he grumps a bit, though the tone is friendly and teasing as he heads back the way he originally came, whistling a bit now that he's leaning into the wind, rather than against it. Sibella gives a truly beaming grin in the direction of both of her unlikely companions. They clearly don't know what constitutes a hearty snack for the plump kitchenlady. Instead, she hurries her speed toward the caverns; they'll find out soon enough. Her grin lasts all the way to the caverns, wind and almost painful sleet blowing in her face and all. As they walk, Madilla keeps a careful eye on Sibella, as though she half expects the kitchen worker to fall ill somewhere along the way; she seems genuinely relieved when they get indoors, and strides hurriedly towards the hearth. "Stand over here," she instructs, as she unravels her scarf and unbuttons her coat. "Before you freeze. I'm sure we can handle the rest from here." Beven hrmphs a bit as he unwinds his coat and takes off his hat, laying them off on a chair so the ice and sleet can melt before he takes them back to the dorm. "Silly sleet, wish it'd stop, it's getting dangerous to walk across the bowl these days." he says as he settles down where he can warm himself up. Now in the warmth, Sibella just now begins to feel the cold creeping through her bones. She allows herself to be herded toward the hearth, and hands the tray readily off to the other woman. She chuckles at Beven, then cocks her head thoughtfully at Madilla. "It seems you're always taking care of me. And /I/ get called the Mother Hen!" Another chuckle as she pulls the gloves off and places them carefully near the hearth to dry and rubs her hands against her cheeks to encourage bloodflow to return. Madilla gives the tray an appreciative sniff as she sets it down on the table and uncovers it; she looks genuinly impressed with the selection of food, though her tone is chiding: "You really shouldn't have, you know. Some people around here will start expecting it every night." She casts a glance back at both of them, adding, "I'm a mother. And a healer. Of course I want to take care of you. I hope," this time, to Beven, "the weather clears up soon. I'm getting pretty tired of it - it seems like it's been miserable all winter." Beven chuckles softly as he settles down deeper into his chair, head tilting off to the side a bit as he stifles a yawn for a few minutes, taking the time to get himself a couple of meatrolls and a mug of klah as he watches the others, "Nice to meet you Sibella, have you been at the Weyr for very long?" he asks with interest, trying hard not to blush as he asks his question. While she takes the time to look properly scolded, Sibella shortly makes her way over to the tray from the hearth. She helps herself to a mug of the klah and sits not far from Beven with a broad grin to Madilla. "I actually send a tray over every night, but most of it seems to be returned uneaten. I wanted to make properly sure that it arrived here, warm, and that it would be just as properly consumed." This last she punctuates with a firm nod of her head, as if she disapproves of anyone who doesn't 'properly' make use of their appetite. "And I certainly agree that it needs to clear up. This weather is terrible for the dragonmen. They come to the kitchens at all hours, battered and absolutely frigid." She frowns until Beven speaks up, and she turns to him, her expression briefly perplexed at his not-quite-concealed blush. "Pleased to make your acquaintance-" -a peek at his knot- "Herdmaster Beven. I was actually born and raised here in the Weyr. Never been outside of it, in fact." This last she says with no qualms at all, as if it perfectly pleases her to have lived out her life in the lower caverns. "Oh?" Madilla frowns, her brows raised. "I've never seen one. Or heard of it being here. We usually-- all of us just go over to the caverns. It doesn't seem right for food to be delivered to us, when we can just as easily walk." She puts some food onto a plate for herself, eating without paying too much attention to it. Sibella chuckles. "I'll have to have a talk with the weyrbrats that work in the kitchens," this said fondly. "Although it's just as likely you distracted Healer- and other Craft-folk are simply too busy and distracted to notice my lovingly made trays of food," Sibella says with a mock-sniffle. She motions with her hand toward the plate that Madilla now eats from, "See there, those hand-crafted meatrolls-" -not that they can be made any other way-"- and love-filled bubbly pies. You don't even taste them." She crosses her arms with a "Hmph!" Her eyes sparkle with laughter. Beven hmms a bit and he nods, "Same here, but been raised over here mostly, da was teaching be to be a beastcrafter, but he's gone off to Ista Weyr now, was posted there this fall, so I've been placed under a new journeyman who's not as strict as da was, so have a bit more free time to meet people." Well if he's spent all his time around the beasts, that probably explains the fact he's blushing, and the fact that's his just turned 16 might be the other factor involved, but who's to really say except for Beven and he's certainly not going to admit to blushing at all, nope nope. "It really isn't necessary," insists Madilla, though she's not terribly firm about it: she seems pleased, despite herself. Sibella's remarks have her glancing down at her food for the first time; she smiles, appreciatively. "It all looks lovely, truly. I just-- I can't speak for anyone else, but I tend to be so busy with other things. But it really does look nice." She glances back at Beven, then, a hint of amusement visible around her mouth. "It's nice, to have time for something else," she opines, cheerfully. "It's important, to get out and get to know other people. Caught between wanting to pat young Beven on the head and having an odd desire to pursue that blush - she is, after all, no naive girl - Sibella puts the matter to the side completely and instead serves him up yet more meatrolls. "I often wondered about the beastcraft. I've never taken the time to observe your folk at their work, and I'd like to one day." She offers him a tentative smile, "Maybe when the weather warms up?" With a sudden reminiscent shiver, Sibella hugs herself, saying, "Not that it ever really gets quite 'hot' up here like I hear it does elsewhere, I suppose I'm just so accustomed to it that the warm season seems downright peachy here." After affirming that Beven has been plied with quite enough food, she returns to a seat - this one closer to Beven's, and incidentally closer to Madilla as well. The grin Sibella beams upon Madilla is absolutely genuine as the kitchen woman appreciates every bite that Madilla takes, as though she honestly had put her heart into the cooking. She nods aggreement with the Healer as she offers her opinion. Beven chuckles a bit and he nods, "Yeah, but da was an all work and no time for play sort of person. It was easier to do what he wanted than to argue and fight with him. It doesn't help that he is a cranky old grump these days either, so I'm rather enjoying not having him around. Not to say that I don't miss him, I send him a message once every two sevendays, but I'm much happier with him gone." What sixteen turn old wants their parents near by anyway, so it's not so unusual an attitude really, plus Beven's gotten used to being on his own now, even though he's still just an apprentice. "Hmm, best time to observe without a lot of risk is in the spring and summer when we're training runner foals to halter. They're less likely to get too anxious and hurt someone since they are fairly small at that point. It's not like when we are saddle breaking a runner, that can be dangerous if it's not done properly. Madilla listens with obvious interest, though she doesn't seem to have much to say. Her departure, then, comes out of nowhere: a sudden launch to her feet, a hurried and apologetic, "I'm sorry; please excuse me. I forgot--" Whatever it was, she doesn't explain, just sets her plate down and dashes again for the door. |
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