Logs:Lock And Key
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| RL Date: 18 December, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, T'gar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: While in the stores, Farideh helps T'gar find a bed! And she plants ideas. Bad ideas. Oops. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 8, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Jounine/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, N'klas/Mentions |
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| The storeroom is busy this late afternoon. With half of the occupants being weyrlings still hashing out their new weyrs, among them is none other than T'gar. A head taller than most of them, he can be seen towards the back looking over resources for a bed. There's a storesworker with him as he seems to be negotiating over some sort of detail, but otherwise the worker turns to leave him be since the negotiation clearly doesn't go as he wants. "V'nas-- no, stop--" That is the sound of a frazzle goldrider reprimanding two of the younger weyrlings, who are squabbling over a rug of all things. "That rug is hideous no matter who has it. Nedyn, look at this one, and the details--" She breathes a sigh of relief when Nedyn, a greenrider from Niahvth's clutch, and V'nas, a bluerider from Roszadyth's, part ways with their separate spoils - and glowers to both of the women from the latter. "Oh, T'gar--" Farideh blows out another breath as her eyes lift to the bronzerider, her hands resting on her waist. "I didn't even see you there. Do you need any help? While I'm here?" It's the squabble that draws Rat's attention, his attention landing on Farideh when his name is called. "Didn't know they have weyrwomen keeping the peace around us rowdy lot," is his comment, nodding his greeting before adding a hasty, "Ma'am." As for help, he turns back towards where all the bedding resources can be seen with hands on his hips as he barely sighs and answers with, "Quinlys has mentioned a bed that was made for the weyr I chose. I thought I could find it down here, but, the lady here can't seem to find it herself. I was deciding on what to get instead." Like she's on a rotating dais, Farideh turns towards the weyrling without breaking posture. "I'm not here to play referee, but you're all noisy and some of us have actual work to do," she qualifies, promptly. "No? Have you checked everywhere? The locked stores?" Her expression is wary as she glances over the stores assistant. "Which weyr is that? I can't, offhand, think of a weyr that requires a mattress that isn't the same as any other-- or did you mean the frame? You'll need sheets, too, pillows and cases." "When have I ever been noisy?" T'gar prompts with laughter in his voice. "Not my fault most of my clutchmates aren't old enough to know how to seduce a girl. I've checked everywhere," he says on the last. "It's suppose to be some creepy-looking bedpost found in the sentinel weyr I've gotten. Thought I'd ask anyway. It's not too important when I really just need a bed. Sheets and all that." Doubt shades the weyrwoman's brow. "Noiseless is synonymous with seductive?" Farideh doesn't sound sure about that at all. "Creepy looking bed-- oh!" Her face becomes animated as she gestures for the weyrling to follow, before stepping towards the hallway. "I've seen something like that in one of the closed stores, but it might not be-- the one." Still, they can try, right? "Only in your mind," T'gar seems too happy to answer as he looks through the stacks of bedsheets. But then Farideh is on the move and he's moves to catch up and follow as she talks about the bed in particular. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone claimed it already," he says with a shrug. "The weyr looks like it hasn't had anyone in turns. How many locked stores do you have back there, anyway?" He's peering ahead to see. Conversations about seduction with bronzeriders are best left unsaid, and so it's with renewed purpose that Farideh leads the fray into the hallway, angling for one of the larger locked stores that -- once she unlocks with her handy set of stores keys -- contains a variety of items, including bulkier furniture pieces. "What about this one?" She indicates a creepy-looking, ornate piece that probably belonged to someone a couple centuries ago-- or something. "More than I'm willing to tell you about," she tells him, curbing her smile, this time. T'gar eyes those stores keys - well he can't seem to help it, really. "Won't give me a hint?" he tries to entice Farideh in revealing all of the stores' secrets. "It can't be anything too valuable, or it would be only under the key of one person. You're not the only one with that set of keys, I'm guessing. Do all the weyrwomen have access to these rooms?" So curious. His study lands on the bed piece in question, shaking his head after awhile with a, "I'm 20, not 50. It doesn't have to be that creepy." He's moving over towards some of the newer ones that he does see, though. "What good would it do you? Weyrwomen and headwomen, alike. There are logs of everything that gets put in and taken out, otherwise that rather defeats the purpose of keeping them all under lock and key, doesn't it?" Farideh gives him a brief, chastising glance and runs a hand over the wood of a nearby chair with detailed carvings. "Does it matter? Do you plan to host parties for twenty-somethings only? Regale your dates with tales of how new the bed is?" See her rolling her eyes over there, all sassy like. "This might be more my style, actually," and T'gar thumps a fist on a bedframe that's all carved sleek with grooves like a tree. More to Farideh, "It matters to me," he adds with a look. He merely snorts on her sass about dates with no comment as he looks over the bedframe in appraisal. "As for what good it would do me," he harkens back to the previous, "I feel like I should learn the ins and outs of this Weyr. Asaroth thinks it's important, and I do agree with him. Unless you think I'm a thief." "Lovely." Next, she'll call in the stores assistant to gift wrap it for him-- wait, no, that would be that she jangles her keys on their key ring instead. "You're suddenly interested in this type of thing, when you see my keys? It isn't abnormal for bronzeriders to want to learn things-- do you have ambitions, T'gar? I never took you for the ambitious type." Farideh turns from the doorway, which she had been eyeing, to give the bronze weyrling an up-and-down assessment. "Are you planning on throwing your hat into the next of Niahvth's flights?" Innocent question, really. "You hardly know me from a bar-rag to take me for anything, ma'am." It's sudden, the slight sharp edge from Rat, but it's gone by the next: "What sort of bed do you have? Something like this? Fancier? I was thinking of looking for a table and some chairs, too. Niahvth's flight?" That gives him a pause, frowning a bit before looking towards the door. "Up to Asaroth," he finally says after a while, as if the weyrling had to consult. "I doubt she'd find him charming enough to let herself be caught by him, though. Isn't it awhile before she would be glowing?" he asks of her now, looking her way. Both of the goldrider's eyebrows lift in mild surprise, at his prickliness. "I have heard things and watched, from afar true, but still-- are you saying that you are?" Farideh's eyes slant to the bedframes, when he mentions them again. "My bed was custom-made by a woodcrafter at my parents' expense, or my mother's, specifically. It has flowers carved in the headboard, I believe, and dark varnish." She motions to the hallway, but doesn't move towards it. "The weyrlings are almost a turn now. They usually rise every two and a half to three turns, or longer between. It should be a while. That doesn't stop anyone from thinking about it." "What have you heard?" Rat is openly curious now despite the prickliness. As for ambition, "Not all ambition is easily seen," and he taps the side of his forehead to indicate her eyes. "Right now, I'm just trying to keep my head above the lake. Keep from drowning. I bet if I keep struggling, those that you heard things from would be at peace about at least one bronzerider not trying to fight for the big knot in the sky." Another bed gets his attention, but after examining it further, it's short-lived. "Your folks must be wealthy," he notes on custom-made, nodding as if he's impressed. "Maybe I should write my father and see if he'll be impressed with my Impressing enough to do the same." On flights, there's a thoughtful frown there on his face as he looks around before there's a reluctant, "I guess it's natural to think about it. I've read that Cadejoth has managed to catch every single time. For many turns. With odds like that..." "Curious, now?" Farideh looks as pleased as punch, dangling her keys from one finger and smiling smugly at the weyrling. "There is no doubt. Everyone wants to piece of the pie-- it's not some small thing to be Weyrleader." She watches his assess the other bed, and remarkably doesn't rise to his bait, though she allows a curt: "Wealthy enough to buy their youngest a few things." But it's his commentary on K'del and Cadejoth's winning strike that wipes some of her smugness away. "You never know when K'del's luck could end. I find it hard to believe that he'll win, forever. It doesn't matter how good of a flyer Cadejoth is." Curious, yes. T'gar has his eyes on those keys. Yep. "I'm sure there's plenty of bronzeriders riding for turns looking to snatch that knot over some random weyrlings," he says, non-plussed. "You seem to be interested in me becoming Weyrleader, though. Want me to lead you that badly?" Even if Farideh didn't say it, he looks smug enough to come up with that himself. "And, share the wealth. I have an empty weyr that needs filling." Still. Weyrleadership and winning streaks has the weyrling in silence as he looks through the bedposts he sees before saying back, "I rather like him. K'del. Maybe he wins because he's what this Weyr still needs. Maybe the queens like yours agree with that. They seem to really have all the power, in the end." Easily, amusement and smugness turn to irritation. "I am merely going off the fact that you want to understand how this place runs. How many locked stores we have. Who holds the keys. Are you saying your curiosity is idle? Weyrlings should be more interested in their weyrs and who visits first, rather than-- unless you have motives, but since you don't--" Farideh shrugs dismissively and hefts her keyring from one hand to the other. "You're an idiot if you think K'del is good," she says, and whirls, heading back out into the hallway. "My curiosity is my curiosity," T'gar states, undaunted. "It's not my fault you expected me to behave like every other clutchmate of mine. I like my weyr just fine, but I like knowing more about the place I'm to be living for possibly the rest of my life. Aren't you the curious sort?" But then, she's heading out, and he follows on her heels, calling, "Wait. About K'del. Explain." If that stops her, some of his easy amusement fading towards something serious. Footfalls following are enough to make Farideh stop and turn to give him an appraising look, fingers looped through her keyring. "What do you even know about K'del, beyond the fact that his dragon keeps catching the senior queens? Anything?" "I know what I've heard people say," Rat answers that, shaking his head. "His son, N'klas. Of course I've heard some from those that don't like him, either. Certain ones that prefer less structure in a Weyr. Present-day opinion, more than anything. What's yours?" "That's correct. N'klas is in your class." That piece of information has the weyrwoman rubbing her forehead with her fingers, and renewing her apprehensive assessment of T'gar. "Irianke seems to agree with his brand of governing, but that doesn't mean he's a great weyrleader. Have you read the history? Seen the things that have happened since he's been Weyrleader? Besides, his time is indecently split between here and his family. I find it hard to believe he can concentrate on the one whilst thinking of the other." "Some would say bad luck," Rat states on the events happening since K'del's rise. "I've been reading the histories though. Seems like the bad luck falls more on the Weyrwomen's side rather than the Weyrleader's. Iolene, Satiet....Azaylia, Aishani...." But still, there's a grunt for Farideh's last, the sound of it seeming to be in agreement on time spent. "The Weyr should always come first," he voices evenly. "Above all. Bad things could happen if this place falls because of neglect. Some people out there would take advantage of that fall. Not the sort of thing that brings comfort to those living here." "Bad luck is what happened to the weyrwoman, but K'del is still here, still standing. I suppose they paid for his bad choices." Almost defensively, Farideh's arms come to cross over her chest, and her expression sours. "I'm glad you can see the wisdom in focusing on one thing. It's one of those things you give up for the title, wisely even. There's progress to be made," she insists, considering T'gar while she speaks. "Are you saying he was involved directly with their deaths? Ones like Iolene's and Azaylia's and Aisahni's?" T'gar asks it with a straight face. "He doesn't seem the type to be into murder. I've seen the types who are. Bad choices." There's a pause here, the weyrling regarding Farideh steadily before he asks, "You think that his lack of focus threatens your life," he comes to that conclusion, brows furrowing. "I have to agree on sacrifices made for the knot. It's why I don't think I could make that sort of sacrifice, where I'm at. A lack of focus is dangerous. I do see you're coming from, ma'am," he states it slow, nodding once. "It's a perspective I haven't thought of. About leaders." His words make her flustered and she scowls at him. "That is not what I'm saying at all. It is possible that his carelessness and being distracted played a role, but no, I do not believe that K'del murdered anyone, much less his own weyrwomen, without getting caught." Farideh's breath hitches and then she expels it loudly, her glower softening, a little bit. "It's not for everyone. Faranth, I don't think it's for me most days. It's something to think about-- you do have one of those silver threads, and the information should be accessible, anyway. Weyrleader for a day? It's a thought." The carelessness and distraction was also included in that," Rat is smooth in saying, grinning once more. "Seen from that angle, it does looks telling. Is that why you don't like him? I figured that out from you calling me an idiot earlier." But the rest does seem to penetrate this weyrling enough for him to fall silent, no teasing or joking to come forth like it would do in a normal scenario. The thoughts planted linger even as he nods back the way they came and says, "That bed's good enough for me. I'll take it and the bedding, too. Thanks for helping me find this." "I have plenty of reasons not to like him, but those are included. I don't advise forming an opinion of him -- on either side -- until you've met and picked his brain, yourself." Farideh's pinched-face look relaxes when they get past discussing the Weyrleader, and nearly softens when he starts talking about thank yous. "It's not a problem. Should there be anything else you need help finding for your weyr-- ask one of the assistant Headwomen. They have the keys, remember? Stay out of trouble, T'gar," she says, giving another one of those not-quite chastising looks with a bemused grin before striding off towards another part of the stores. "Not typically a hearsay sort myself," T'gar seems to agree on forming opinion. "Which was why I have my opinion of him. Still. I'd find it more interesting to pick the brains of those around him moreso." He steps away then, having concluded and found what he was looking for and so he nods her way and answers on future hunts, "Will do, ma'am. Can't promise about trouble. See you around." He watches Farideh leave until he returns to find a way to get his new bed up to his home. |
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