Logs:If Quinlys Agrees
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| RL Date: 20 March, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Mave |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Mave has a small ask of the former-guard, Alida. |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy. |
| Mentions: Quinlys/Mentions |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north. Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy.
Shining makes the pair that much easier to spot from across the bowl, and Mave's been on the look-out. From her original destination, she banks hard, trotting to catch up to the weyrling and dragon. Mouth opening in greeting-- asshole-- "Oh." Mave's jaw snaps shut, writhes back and forth, before a distant realization pans her gaze from girl to lifemate. "Ohhh." A soft nod recovers the teen and she bobs her head in a crisp nod: do-over. "Hey, Alida. Respects, Ilicaeth." Quick, practical, not without a sense of pleasantness but neither lingering in it. Keeping up with the weyrling's pacing, should Alida continue, bothers her little; you get used to it fairly easy on when you've shorter legs than average. "You're busy," it's acknowledged, "But I wanted to see if I could ask you a trade?" They both hear the crunch of Mave's footwear on the bowl floor, Ilicaeth turning his head first to notice the gal moving to intercept them, Alida simply looking where her dragon does. He's got better hearing than a mere human, obviously. There's time to note the other female's reaction to that 'asshole' of hers - 'lida not able to curtail the emergence of a wide smirk - before they're on their way again...with Mave swept up alongside. "Mave..." is noted neutrally in greeting, Ilicaeth chuffing as he too is greeted, one of his big, heavily-browed blue eyes keeping a curious eye on the other human. "Mhm..." is noted in agreement with the resident, the guard finally turning her head again to give Mave a look of faint curiosity at the inquiry. The look on the bluie's face says it all: What the crap could *I* have that you'd want? Having well deserved the smirk does wonders for Mave half-grinning sheepishly then moving right along, all simply forgotten in the wake of her less solid request. Eyes more easily linger to return Ilicaeth's look before she snaps up to acknowledge Alida's curiosity. Fingers lace behind her back, where their nervous winding together can less be seen. "I know the weyrlings have to do self-defense lessons, but I'm thinking, as a former guard, you've got a few things known already." Few is emphasized; the lesser word used as a little prompting joke to suggest there's quite a bit more besides. "Especially weapons and the like, yeah? You're not allowed to carry anymore or something, but sticks can do and... well." Making sure to silence herself, she raises her eyebrows pointedly to wait before going on. "Oh, I can carry alright..." Alida notes in a drawl to Mave after she's done hearing out the other young woman, a significant glance down at her belt given, and showing that the bluie carries multiple long and short knives about her, interspersed with belt pouches. "No sword anymore, but..." Ahh, how she misses her true pig-sticker. Another smirk for that 'few' and a glint in green eyes presages a moment for detailed thought, the pale-headed weyrling then murmuring, "I could, yeah." Beat. "Didja' ever think about what Quinlys might do ta' me if she ever found out that a weyrling was defense-trainin' someone without her okay?" A look over at Ilicaeth prompts a rumble from the blue, his large and whirling gaze shifting from Alida to Mave, then back to his lifemate again, the end of his tail subconsciously sliding into a prehensile curl about her waist. Possessive, protective. "Oh! So you are." It comes as a surprise to Mave-- merely, perhaps, that she missed it-- but, after a furrow of brows, the fact is left to remain unbothered. Nerves mean she's missing a lot, as her kneading fingers describe. "Not sure why I thought that, what with Jo-- anyway." There's a beat, then, "Actually, I thought you'd ask her okay. Or I would. Or you could possibly say 'okay, but remember that Quinlys might say no'. Really, I also thought that you might say 'beat it, you nervous shithead', so, I assure you, I was quite thorough." Though the curse slips from her mouth, judgment is lacking; she speaks it like she's deserving, and not that she would've thought less of Alida for doing so. "Yep..." Alida notes in her typical clipped fashion to Mave as the triad continue walking along, the other female's nervousness taken in with the guard's characteristic neutral aplomb. After learning that the resident has thought this out at least a little, the blonde notes over to her, "You c'n ask Quin, sure. If she says 'yes,' I will." Really? To that round of quickly blurted words, the weyrling's green gaze flicks over to Mave, her expression now quite serious and focused. "One female to another: there's few uv us that I'd not be willin' ta' teach basic self-defense to." As for the reason for such...well, once Mave calms down, maybe she'll piece it together. Green's met with brown; Mave's looking Alida right in the eye and, at the clipped acceptance, she offers the weyrling a soft, friendly smile. "Thank you. No matter what Quinlys says, thanks." An understanding nod follows the admittance between females, ambiguous whether it's with actual understanding or it seemed to her like the thing to do. After a few more, much more companionable, paces, during which she watched the bowl contentedly, she turns to Alida with a half-tug of her mouth. "Are you going to ask what's in return?" Her hands break away from her back, feeling free to wind into her jacket pockets. "Welcome. *If* Quinlys agrees, you should know beforehand that I don't pull punches - figuratively - when I train someone. You'll get bruised 'n banged up, but'ch'y'll learn well...if yer' up to it. I don't tolerate whining, 'r any less than 100 percent effort." Yep, sounds like her: uncompromising, direct, full-out. As for Mave's inquiry as to what she wants in return... A quiet hint of a half smile ghosts over the weyrling's features before she murmurs to the other female, "If I ever have a need uv' something, I'll come t'you 'n ask." Should that be reason for Mave to worry? Unknown, especially since Ilicaeth's releasing his tail-grip from around Alida's waist, and returning to his habitual twitching and jerking of it. "Fuckitall, 'caeth!" is blurted out to the blue, who simply chuffs and continues to do such as they walk. "Good," Mave, absently pleased, notes nearly to herself, "Being all out should help train the instincts instead of just the motions." Inside her jacket, she tests out a fist, creating a lump of olive fabric before it relaxes. To the request, eyes blink, slowly, processing. Mouth tugs up, dipping the lower briefly inside her mouth. "Oh, well. I was just going to offer to help with any of Ilicaeth's care-- time for time. But I guess that's alright." Should there be an ominous intonation, it's not one the resident's likely to pick up; her second of darkened confusion speaks more to wondering what it could be. Curiously, she eyes herself, then abandons that train. The blue's attracting attention, and a soft hum that lacks full commentary. "I'll leave you to it, then, yeah?" With a squint towards Alida, lightly assuming her preference. "You may not thank me later..." the guard notes mostly to herself, then shrugging before she gets caught up in the blue's twitchy habit. Of Mave being willing to help with Ilicaeth, the blonde mutters, "If you c'n figure out a good way ta' make him stop twitching that tail, you're on." Eyeroll. In rejoinder, the little dragon - who's getting larger by the day - give a low little bark and immediately breaks ranks, walking off a little stiffly back towards the barracks. For a moment, the palest-blonde just stares at him with mixed consternation and irritation, then looknig away and continuing her walk. "Yeah..." is groused out, 'lida already more irritated than before. Best to let grumpy dogs lie. Mouth pressed in tight concentration, Mave locks pace with Alida without slowing, like she mightn't have heard, or realized. But then, "Try acting like you're cool with it." And feet plant, cutting her off from the former guard's destination and, with a twist, putting her back on her original path -- though it's up in the air whether she recalls what she'd been doing in the first place once she gets there. The sneer that the blonde gives to Mave when the resident butts in on the little conflict between the weyrlings should be ample communication that her 'helpful' comment was not wanted... in a big way, in fact. It's exactly that which makes the blonde peel off from the other female, and stride off toward somewhere where she won't be bothered, hopefully... left to her anger in peace. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 21 Mar 2013 19:48:15 GMT.
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Huh. A truce of sorts? One would think, but then... Hm. Guess the only thing to do is wait and see! >:D
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