Logs:How The Dress Fits
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| RL Date: 14 March, 2013 |
| Who: Hana, Mave |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Mave is not quiet like a firelizard when changing the guests' sheets, but it comes to Hana's benefit. |
| Where: Empty Junior Queen's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
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| Empty Junior Queen's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Turns of inclement weather and use have smoothed out niches here and there for a current occupant and perhaps a companion, on this slightly downward impressed ledge. It's otherwise unremarkable: large, of course, and low to the ground, though not so low as to provide ground access from here. Being so low, the view is not especially spectacular, though it does make an excellent point from which to keep a steady eye on goings on in the bowl, from the living caverns entrance to the north, and as far as glimpses of glimmering blue on the horizon from the weyr lake. A short tunnel and a shorter set of stairs leading up from the ledge reveal a weyr that, despite being obviously unused at present, has been well maintained, much of the furniture in it still in good shape. Unusually, there are no separate chambers in this Weyrwoman's weyr, the bedroom and bath only made distinct by two walls that rise three-quarters to the ceiling. In the main area, the hearth sits near the tunnel from the ledge, decorated with a square pattern of ruddy bricks along the floor, which rise into a decorative arch above, the mantel stretching from one end to the other. While hardly new, a comfortable looking olivine couch sits in front of the hearth, on a patch of floor that was probably once covered in a rug of some kind. Towards the opposite end of the room sits a round, stone table with a set of cushioned chairs; next to this is a utilitarian bookshelf, currently empty. To the east is a tunnel that leads down towards the Weyrleaders' Complex. The bedroom section of the weyr contains a full-sized bed, void of anything other than a simple mattress, and a wardrobe. Finely polished wood has been used for both, though they are simple and unornamented, with only their delicately built curves to really indicate their quality. Just across from the bedroom, behind the other three-quarter wall, is a small, elevated stone bath that is built into the walls. Ancient plumbing makes sure there will be hot water when needed and though no vanity exists, a single built-in shelf is carved out just above the tub. Hung on the half-finished wall is a slightly warped mirror.
Since it's raining miserable buckets outside-- perhaps lending to a desire to linger over a meal-- it's lucky that the weyr connects to inner tunnels: Mave's not soaking wet, stepping swift-footed in through the connecting Complex, far less official than anyone who lives within. Her visit is a domestic one, as she's carrying in her arms the wicker basket full of the sevenday's laundry, sheets prepared to replace ones inside. Basket clutched to her chest, she hops in, and is struck by the array of colors addressed in the spread clothing; a clothing parade, nearly, to the girl's big brown eyes. She takes another stiffer meander forward then cranes her head to stare owlishly at the lace detailing on one closest. Hana gives the shirt a good shake - man-sized, and looking suitable for a feast, then stands up to put it aside; her movement checks as she catches sight of the wide-eyed girl. A quick smile appearing, she calls out, "I have made a bit of a mess, haven't I? Do I need to move anything out of the way?" she asks, nodding slightly towards the armful (and basketfull) of linen. A jolt goes straight up Mave's spine-- caught! But mostly, "Oh, bug brains!" She pants out, shifting the basket from her chest to lower on her stomach as she arcs her back, "I didn't think anyone would be here." Any sense of guilt over not making a clean entrance and exit drops out swiftly. Her eyes set on the spread clothes, more practical than her gawking a second ago. "I'd say 'no' so you wouldn't have to get up... but, honestly, I wouldn't want to be touching all these nice things, just incase." Loosing a hand so she can scratch at her ear, Mave pushes the red-brown hair that's fallen in front from her startle out of the way. Hana laughs quietly, and shakes her head, "If no one could touch them, they wouldn't be worth much, I think. They are for the Hatching party, and while I don't know about my lord and lady, /I/ plan on dancing the night away. Shame if I couldn't do a proper toss dance, don't you think?" she asks, moving off to one side to put the shirt away, then following suit with the finished pink dress. Turning back to the younger, she tilts her head to one side, then offers with a bit of a smile, "But I don't think I've met you? I'm Hana," she offers cheerfully enough. "Oh," Mave snorts bluntly, "Someone can touch them." Her palm gestures in a circle over the air of one of the dresses, "Just someone who wouldn't get her ass grassed if something happened to one of them." Playful features, her mouth tweaked up, suggest an air of teasing, though not by much. In space freed, she rests one piece of the basket's bottom, leaning the rest against her for easy access to yank out the first folded item. "Shame." A short, but sincere agreement. "Them dances are the greatest to watch." Tossing the sheet over one arm to keep it on hand, she offers the other towards the newly introduced Hana. "Thanks Hana," for getting up, "I'm Mave." Hana chuckles, "Well, there's only one way to fix tha... I was going to look for you! At least, if you are the Mave to go to about.. betting?" Hana admits, the last word offered questioningly, before meeting pals. "And even if you aren't, well, this last dress is mine - if you want to take a closer look at it, you are more than welcome to." It's the blue-green one. Pink is /so/ not her thing, after all. "You should join one. They are amazing if you've a good partner. The toss dances, that is," she clarifies, before going to pick up the indicated dress, and shaking it out. "I'm that Mave!" determines the so-called bookie gladly, till her eyebrows furrow, "Or, well, I certainly hope I am. Should be awfully confusing if I weren't, to find out so late in life." After a brisk but friendly shake, she returns her hands to work, quick and deft to putting sheets at the corners they belong to. "Nnnn," the judging noise she hums out between gritted teeth comes alongside ripping dirtier linens off and shaking out the news ones to fit them. "They look amazing, but I don't imagine that's something in my range." No withering self-pity; she states, she moves on-- to that dress. With a guiltier glance at her work, she shuffles the basket, lip bitten, up onto a steadier surface and then approaches, hands already out in front of her, tracing the air above it as she stares, less in awe as very somber study. "Well, I cheated on this one - I wore it at an earlier party, and wanted something better for dancing. So I shorted it up slightly, and added the excess to the shoulders for a bit of a flutterby," Hana offers cheerfully enough, "One of my favorite things to do - using an old dress to make a new look." Of course, time spent in the upper echelons has spoiled her idea of 'old', but look at who she's staying with these days! ".. is it too late to place anything on some of the candidates?" There is a pause, then she adds, "That's what we're supposed to do, right?" "Never worn a dress..." is idle expelling of thought. "Now that you've shorted it up, can you long it out again?" Foreign things to Mave, her curiosity seems more for the process, as she trails her hand bravely down the dress' length, grabbing a bit of the skirt then letting it go for test; her eyebrows raise, lower lip rolling out, vaguely impressed. Brown eyes flick up to Hana's face when things fall more into her domain. "Yuh huh. Time up until shells start cracking people in the head-- You want to know the current spread, or just going personal on it?" Dropping her hand back to her side, she side-steps back into her work, grabbing up the next sheet: a cover for one of the chairs. "I.. have no idea what that means. Never made a bet before, but... It seems like the thing to do." Hana gives the dress a shake, and a critical look, before going and putting it away. "If I had hemmed it, I could have - but this time, I cut the extra off, so... it'll be staying short. And not dresses... ever?" Ah, the holderborne.. Mave's grin is almost cheeky, but then she relents, shaking her head, "Spread's, like... all the things people've bet so far, so that you can lay your own bets based on how good the pay-out's gonna be if you win. It's more about playing the board then, say... putting money on a favorite just 'cause you want to support 'em. Y'see?" She waits out Hana's putting the dress away, nodding absently to the explanation, a hand rubbing idly against her-- panted-- thigh. "Naw, I mean... out on the docks, they never made much sense. Then-- here." She shrugs, then glances down her own leg, "Anyway, I've got knobby knees and," then she brusquely cups herself, "no boobs, so I don't think anyone's missing out!" "How, ah, you fill out the top of the dress isn't as important as the dress you choose to fill out. A good dress will often draw attention away from things you don't want noticed, for things you do. Like the fact you are tiny - which can only be a help for toss dances," Hana points out, before shaking her head and grinning. "Oh, all that is much too complicated. I think I'd just want to, er.. support? A small handful of people on the Sands." "Right." Eying her half-skeptically-- merely for not quite investing-- Mave's cheek sticks out with the tongue she shoves calculatingly in there. Sure, dresses, uh huh. A swipe of that tongue over her lips. "Sure, then. Name 'em. Got it on you?" After a second, she remembers to twist a hand behind her back, wrestling with a butt pocket to pull out a little bit of many times folded paper. "Let me go fetch it. How much is a good amount? I.. visited the Snowasis, so I don't have a lot - and it would be for Kaeden, Nicky, Wakizian, and Alida," she adds over her shoulder as she ducks into one of the sleeping areas - with her dress, of course. Manners be damned, Mave no less than shouts the minimum, then the average amount at her from across the room. Raising her hand, she spreads four fingers out in front of her, each popping up one by one as she mouths the name of each listed candidate. "Actually..." Blank staring at her fingers, eyes distantly half-raised a second later, she files ploddingly through another thought before adding, slightly less shouted, "Depends if you're just going Impression, or Impression with color. More risk, more reward, obviously." Hana sticks her head out, and hrms. "... well, again. Just support, I think." Her head disappears again, there is some rustling around, then she comes out with a small number of partial marks, and all. "... besides. I'm not good at fights, and isn't color supposed to be important or something?" "Depends who you're asking." Judging by Mave's shrug, she's hovering soundly between the lines. "People who think color makes a person, and others think shit comes out of every dragon the same color." And so eloquent, too. "I think..." A nibble on her lip, fitting a pause between her words, hints that these are not words often expelled to near-strangers. I think... but she dives into the risk, finishing with a half-shrug to cover, "More's what you do with the color, once you have it, that matters. And, anyway, a dragon's much more than its hide. Like, uh-- " revelation, a sudden potential cleverness, springs to her eyes, lighting them as she writhes her hand in the direction the dress disappeared, "What you said about choosing a dress!" A beat; a frown. "I think." Hana sticks her head back out, and opens her mouth, stops, then thinks about. "A... dragon... is like... a dress. I... well, I don't see it. But then, I've yet to have anything to do with them, beyond speaking occasionally with their riders. I suppose one could call them an accessory, but when your accessory can sit on you, I think you become the accessory." "Er, no! Jeez, Faranth-- umm. Shard-a-lard..." Mave's distraught is all in rubbing a hand against her overly creased 'brow. "It was like... what with the," again, her hands bounce under her -- tiny -- breasts, "fitting, and how it's not always the thing that makes you look good, but the-- umm. How it fits. How it goes with you. Oy, a dragon an accessory! Fucking rude, is what that would be." Not that she's calling Hana out; her grimace, bearing plenty of teeth, is aimed inward. Hana is still the one who said it, so when she comes out, there is a bit of a ruddy hue to her cheeks, "Oh, I didn't mean that... but... ah, I think that makes sense?" She shakes her head, and finally comes all the way out with that handful mentioned. "Here. One for each of them, I think?" Then, in that smooth way she's not known for, "We should get you a dress, or at least do something with your hair for the party. A braid or something, maybe?" She tilts her head, then shrugs - it was just a stray thought, and not one she'd put any previous thought into. "Don't sweat it," assures the younger girl, stifling a yawn and kicking at the floor with one foot, "I'm not really clever with words." Another throwaway fact, no more, no less. Greedily, Mave swipes up the money, then, with a modicum of visible self-control, sets it aside to first open the folded paper she'd retrieved to scratch out names next to columns, and numbers next to those, and fumble out a few other things that, when glancing over at Hana, freeze. "Get me a dress." It sounds like a foreign language; gibberish, maybe. "My hair." Eyes lift, attempting to see through her skull to the half-curls she's let have their way around her head and shoulders. Lowering her eyes, she abruptly snorts, loud, and bemused... only for that, too, to freeze on her face. "A-- actually..." It is but a throw-away comment, the sort Hana's known for, but at the last freeze, her attention is drawn from the figure writing to the girl making it. "Hm? After all, you don't have to keep your hair in a braid all the time - or wear a dress. Just on, well, certain occasions." Like dances and parties. "You have a point," establishes Mave in a rush, "And-- actually," in continuation, she repeats the word with purpose, rolling her hand out in extended emphasis, "There's kind of a reason, or a reason and a half, to maybe... feel a little more ladylike this time around?" Even saying it makes her hesitate, chin bucking backwards in the jerk of revolt. "But it's not like..." Turning, eyes remark on one of the remaining dresses, fair, flattering, and colorful in a way the girl's practical slacks are not, "I... don't want to be myself..." Just, by the lightly wishful tone sneaking into her words-- a better version of it. Hana frowns slightly in thought, then nods slightly. "We don't have time to make a dress for you. /However/. We are similiar in size and color. If you'd like, and given none have returned yet, if you like," she repeats herself, perhaps to make sure she's not pressuring the younger girl, "We can see if one suits of my dresses." One of the older ones, probably. "I promised a dance." This soft, sullen murmur is supposedly meant to explain her uncharacteristic desire. Fingers curl into her plain tunic; she eyeballs the slacks she's wearing, grading for flowing dance potential. Then Mave turns quickly over her shoulder to spy on Hana, a light confusion on her face that lifts gradually. "Just like that," she explains, as if making sure Hana's not misspoken by accident-- and leaving her plenty of room to retract, "One of yours. Just like that. What if I muck it up?" Not scared she will, the practical query seems to be businesslike. She'd like to know the terms. "Well, I can only wear one dress to the party, after all - and it wouldn't be a /new/ dress," Hana points out, before humming. "If you muck it up?" There is a pause as she thinks before nodding once. "If you muck it up, you keep me company while I'm mending the tears. Oh, and scold the brute who ends up stepping on it, because it's always the fellow's fault," she adds with an impish grin. A grin to match flashes across Mave's face, rounding out her freckled cheeks, "Oh, gladly," she breathes out through a laugh. "I've mended before," is added after, as she remembers to re-fold the paper, tuck it into her back-pocket, "But nothing what anyone looks at so closely." Then, with a sudden bam, all the expression drops off of her face. "Wait. Steps on?" Hana repeats, with a finger against her lower lip, "It's always the fellow's fault, remember." And then with a laugh - and a grab at the hand to drag the younger along, Hana is going to make for that closet of dresses for the younger girl. Because there's no time like the present. Poor Mave. So doomed. |
Comments
Nicky (Nicky (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 15 Mar 2013 09:25:36 GMT.
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Hana's girlying up Mave! This is so cute. :D
Hana (Hana (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 15 Mar 2013 14:02:44 GMT.
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Impressions must be made tonight! ;)
Wakizian (Wakizian (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 15 Mar 2013 19:56:42 GMT.
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Aww, I love this log. You guys are awesome and adorable.
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