Logs:Do Over Wanted
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| RL Date: 25 October, 2014 |
| Who: Lycinea, V'ros |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lycinea asks V'ros for a favor. V'ros unwillingly concedes. Lya is a teenage girl. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 2, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: A smidge of angst. |
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| Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a day-to-day basis. The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day.
One nook is claimed by a dour-looking V'ros and a tepid cup of klah. He has been secluded for over an hour, listlessly staring down at the table without so much as a 'hello' to anyone or a hint of company coming. His expression his pensive, his eyes distanced, and the corners of his mouth are tugged down in a frown that lends itself towards the air of brooding that hangs around the weyrling. It's not that Lya hasn't seen V'ros around, it's that she hasn't gone out of her way to actually talk to him, as yet. Perhaps she took their last parting a little harder than it seemed. But now she slips into the booth opposite him, sliding the dishes in first and her after. She sighs, "So," as if they're already in the middle of an on-going conversation. "I think we need to go to Ista." She looks up at him. "Because you're all--" She makes a wiggly finger-gesture that encompasses all of him. "And I'm not much better. And it's weird and just-- I mean, I'm showing up on time, I'm doing my work, I'm not mouthing off to people, and--" Clearly something's wrong with the world. Her brows are raised and expression fretful. Does he understand? They need to fix it. Brown eyes lift to the kitchen aide, but it takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus on her and not through her. "Lycinea," he mumbles, shifting his hands to clasp in his lap. Supreme concentration scrunches his face while the blonde speaks, leading the way for irritation mixed with confusion. "I'm all, what? Someone just died. Not just someone, Aishani and Iesaryth. You can't erase that with some stupid trip to Ista." His whole body is tense, his jaw clenching as he swings his head to the side, obviously restraining himself from further emotion. "We're not going. Not now." "Lya," she corrects out of hand. Obviously she's not paying any attention to that, or his irritation. "I know," that someone died, and it's with only a little irritation that she says, "Lots of someones died." How many had been lost at sea? How many sunk? How many washed overboard? How many missing? "I've seen the counts." She frowns deeply. "Only we can't change it. It happened. And it sucked." She bites her lower lip. "Can we please go to Ista?" A startled look - for the reminder of someones dying - and then V'ros passes a hand absently over his mouth. "We can't, but that doesn't change that.. I don't want to go. Not now." He frowns at her, but quickly drops his gaze, leaning back in his seat. The blonde takes a slow breath. "We're friends, right?" It's the beginning, but she waits for an answer. Flicking back up, V'ros' eyes lock on Lycinea's. "Yeah," he says slowly, like he's suspicious of what she's going to say next. "Okay. I've never really had one since-- well, for a while. What do friends normally do when..." Lya seems genuinely hesitant to say the next, she'd probably have liked better if he'd just said they could go to Ista and she didn't have to be persuasive. It doesn't seem like it's 'her thing,' but she's trying. "... when one of the friends has a turnday?" Those suspicions seem to be confirmed. "Your.. turnday." V'ros is still frowning, undeterred by Lycinea's new proposal. "You want to go to Ista for your turnday?" He doesn't ask because he's unsure, it's more that he's dumbfounded by.. her effort? That she's asking him? "Sort of," Lya swallows. "See... I already had it. And it-- well." She stares at the table. Her voice is barely above a whisper, and for some other girls, this might be done for effect, but for Lycinea it's because she's affected whether she likes it or not. "A lot of people died on my turnday, V'ros." She moves a hand to pick dirty nails at a groove in the wood on the table top where she was looking. "I'm seventeen now." And she wants a do-over. V'ros' eyes widen, but he keeps his thoughts carefully concealed until she's done talking. He scratches the side of his head while he speaks, his eyes dancing off to the side. "Your turnday was that day? That.. really.. sucks." His shoulders move forward, hunching. "We could.. I guess.. if Quinlys says we can," he says weakly, with a sigh and a shrug. Looks like her ploy worked - he's gullible enough to fall for it, seemingly disturbed as much by the fact that something so tragic happened on her birthday as he is by the event itself. If only it were a ploy. Lycinea looks at him a long moment, "Yeah. It really did." She shakes her head then sliding out of the booth and picking up her dishes. "Worst one yet. Forget I asked." It's glum, it's frustrated, but apparently she's not going to take him up on it after all as she goes back to working her way down the line of nooks with her rag. Dutiful Lya. |
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