Logs:Lavender
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 26 May, 2009 |
| Who: Betegal, Carobet, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Carobet and Betegal interrupt Madilla's study, but win a sprig of lavender for their troubles anyway. |
| When: Day 3, Month 11, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender. Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts. Just after dinner, and Carobet is in the common room, but-- for once!-- not in her usual armchair. Instead, she's seated on the couch near the hearth, in front of which she's pulled a table, on which she's set a few sheets of scrap paper and a pen. One foot taps against the floor impatiently, as one hand tugs at a lock of hair. She's not alone in the room, of course; elsewhere, residents take up their usual after-dinner activities, relaxing and chatting in quiet tones. He'd had to inhale his dinner so he could wash off and not be quite so gross for his after-dinner plans. When Betegal comes into the common room, his hair is still damp but he doesn't look like he'd been charred by a blind dragon. "Hey!" he says to Carobet when he comes to sit down in the couch by her. "Have a plan of action yet?" he asks as he glances at the paper. Madilla's hair is as damp as Betegal's, if not moreso, as she makes her way in from the dorms; it's tidier, in this wet state, pinned up out of the way. Books in arm, she makes her way towards the couch, which is one of her usual spots, though she falters before getting there: people, already there. But there's room, so she sets herself down towards the end, burying her nose straight into her work rather than greeting those nearby. Carobet rolls her eyes as Betegal arrives, her way of saying, "What took you so long?" without going so far as to actually verbalize it. The mindhealer is all business, so she doesn't waste time with things like that. "Well, I've copied down all the things we need to get," she says, pointing to the topmost sheet of paper. "I figure we can divide them in half, based on what we think will be easiest for each of us." As Madilla joins them on the couch, she scoots over a little for her fellow healer, greeting her with a smile. "Evening!" Friendlier than usual? Probably. Betegal looks up and over when Madilla enters, then he's attempting to move down more to accommodate Carobet moving for the other healer. "Hey," he echoes Carobet's friendliness with some of his own. He even does the grinning thing. Except he points at Madilla and looks at Carobet like he's asking, 'This is one of them, right?' When he realizes he's pointing, he puts his hand down and focuses on the written down stuff. Madilla barely seems to notice Carobet or Betegal, and certainly not the pointing, except that the other healer's greeting draws her head back up; she blinks, then, with a smile, "Good evening, Carobet. And..." Betegal, but she doesn't seem to know that name. Her gaze slides between the two, then drops back to her book: greetings over, it's time to work. Carobet picks up the pen, beginning to make marks on the list in front of her. "Here, I think I can do this one. And you could probably handle these two?" She begins to make two additional lists in the margins of the first, one for each of them, scribbling quickly. "What do you think?" The pen handed over to Betegal, the list pushed over towards him for his perusal. And then, sweetly: "Madilla, you wouldn't happen to have any lavender on you, would you?" Earnest brown eyes and a wide smile are directed at the healer. Betegal is handed the pen and he looks at it for a moment like he's not really sure what to do with it, but then he leans over the list to peruse. He snorts, presumably in response to Carobet's choices on what he should do. He works on writing while Carobet talks to Madilla and he doesn't bother interrupting with his name while she does so. "Do you have any of that crap you girls put around your eyes to make them look big?" he asks abruptly, looking up and wiggling the pen in his hand. Madilla's book gets laid down for a second time, as she's addressed, and this time the healer actually seems to recognise that she really does need to pay at least a little bit of attention to the pair. "Lavender?" she repeats, as if at a loss for a moment; then, comprehension seems to filter through, and she looks even, for a moment, embarrassed. In the meantime, Betegal's question definitely catches her attention, eyes going very confused, and resulting, eventually, in a hasty addition to her reply, "Oh. /Lavender/. I'd forgotten about that. Am I making it too easy, if I just hand it over? You didn't even have to seek me out, or anything." Carobet grins, looking a little stunned that her straightforward approach worked so quickly. "I don't think so, unless you want to make it harder for us," she says. "I'd /really/ like this day off from chores. So, you know, I'd appreciate it." Betegal's question makes her turn her head. "You mean kohl? Of course." She wipes a little at the corner of her eye, holding up a finger now smudged with dark eye-crap. "Why?" "Could just keep us in mind for a general IOU in the future, you know?" Betegal pipes up, looking around Carobet to Madilla, then back at Carobet when she shows him the finger. "Yeah, that. You think that would count as a black eye? If I let her put it on me?" he asks. "I mean, they can't really mean a real one, can they?" "I'm not sure how I /would/ make it harder," Madilla admits, as she begins digging into her pocket. "It's not as though I have the authority to make you do anything, anyway." Pause. "And I wouldn't. Even if I could. Maybe I'll do that, though." The last, to Betegal. Her digging results, eventually, in the required sprig of lavender, which she offers across, though she can't help but note as she does so, "If you're talking about the Weyrwoman, I bet she'd prefer the actual... hitting." Carobet takes it carefully between two fingers, setting it down on the table near their list. "Thanks! Sure, you can call us in for a favor sometime. I have a feeling that this will be the easiest item that we obtain." She laughs as Betegal proposes his idea, then Madilla makes her observation. "It's a good idea, though. Who knows, maybe if she's gotten the other groups first, her punching arm will be sore. I can lend you my kohl, just in case." His expression falters just a little because he knows the Weyrwoman would probably prefer the actual hitting. Particularly where he's concerned (but who doesn't feel that way?). With Iovniath watching. But Betegal offers a nod and a, "Thanks a lot," to Madilla for her lavender sprig. "I can try, at least!" Just like he can try being optimistic. "My pleasure," says Madilla earnestly, smiling again as she repositions her hands upon the book in her lap. "Happy to help. I haven't given any others out, yet; it'll be interesting who seeks me out." Her lips twist ruefully at Betegal's expression, sympathy visible in her own, then she adds, "If you're lucky. Perhaps she'll be amused by the-- eye make-up idea thing." "Act innocent. Like you can't imagine she'd /actually/ give you a black eye," Carobet suggests. "She won't fall for it... but like you said, Madilla. Maybe she'll be amused." She looks over the list again, crossing off Madilla's name and writing a 'B' next to Tiriana's. "Hmm. I don't know Rorkes or Yori, do you?" She taps the end of the pen against her chin, thinking. "She threw a book at me," Betegal says in a careful tone, looking from one to the other. "Innocence would probably just make me look stupid," but then he leaves that train of thought hanging because he'd rather not discuss his intelligence with Carobet. "I've met Rorkes," he says, thoughtful. "Yori isn't ringing any bells. Who's she?" Madilla's head shakes, her expression caught between amused and distinctly less so, no doubt at the Weyrwoman's expense. "Good luck with that," is all she says, twisting her lips again. "I don't think I'd know half the people on your list. But," she adds, drawing herself back towards her feet. "I'm going to go sit over here, now, let you do your own organising. Good luck!" "Good luck with your work, Madilla, and thanks again!" Carobet offers the other healer another smile, before turning back to the List. "You want to do Rorkes, then? I think Yori is... a trader." Gleaned from the instruction to get 'something from her trader pack.' "I suppose we can both ask around for her?" She scrawls another 'B', then a 'B&C' next to Yori's name. "Sure," Betegal says to Carobet before looking around her to Madilla and offering a dimpled smile. "Thanks," he says again, then goes all serious like as he looks at the List. "I know Milani," he adds, but who doesn't? "And I've met Rimara. And Leova." Then, on second thought, "But -you- might want to catch her maybe." Avoidance is a good habit. It must be. Madilla tucks her book under her arm as she makes her way back across the common room, towards a quieter corner somewhere else. "Thank you, Carobet, and--" Betegal's name is still unspoken, so she simply concludes with a nod. Him. He knows who he is. |
Leave A Comment