Logs:Making Up
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| RL Date: 13 November, 2014 |
| Who: Farideh, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two friends make up and make nice. |
| Where: Resident Quarters, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Cold, wintry. |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, V'ros/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Sooo backdated. |
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A small foyer, spartan in decor with only a rug on the floor and a chore board tacked to the wall, serves as a node for the network of dormitory caverns. Segregated by age and gender, the dorms provide sleeping accomodations for a wide range of the Weyr's populace. The largest dormitory has a brightly painted blue and yellow door and is hung with a hook board with clay name tags for the children who live there. Inside, bunk beds and single cots provide sleeping space for kids aged seven to fourteen, with clothing stored in a hodgepodge mix of trunks and foot lockers. A larger cot is pushed up against the wall near the door for the nanny on night duty. Several archways lead to a loopy maze of smaller caverns that provide sleeping accomodations for two to eight people at a time, each with a basic cot-and-press setup; glows here are sparse and often dim, since the dorms are primarily meant for sleeping. A larger archway leads to the common room and, like the others, is protected by a tapestry that muffles sight and sound. Off the maze of dormitories, smaller in size and just as round, one cavern serves the purpose of sleeping chamber for five girls in their late teens and early twenties. Three of them are on their cots: one sleeping despite it being early night, one patching up her shirt, and the third, Farideh, sitting in her favorite cross-legged style. She's busy flipping through a series of letters, purposefully re-reading each one between yawns and sighs. None of her roommates pays her any mind. Each girl is in her own world, mindless of the other presences in the room or the rowdy children who rush past the entrance way as they wind through their last bits of energy for the day. Lycinea isn't a complete stranger to Farideh's room that is, when they're friends, still too far a distance from her own, but she hasn't been seen here since their fight about the turnover party that's now come and gone. She moves now after hesitating in the doorway for just a breath and comes to sit down on the edge of Farideh's bed. "Hey." It's not a particularly cheerful greeting, but normally the people who have to be the one to say, "You were right," and sigh aren't the ones who are supposed to sound cheerful about it. "The party sucked. And I stained my dress. And I grabbed my boobs in front of Weyrwoman Azaylia." That warrants another sigh. Farideh's attention lifts from her light reading at the movement on the bed; her eyebrows lift in surprise, but she doesn't say anything to the blonde, rather she waits out the whole story until the last sigh. "I told you it would be a waste," she says, setting down her letters on her pillow, and turning to face Lycinea with a thoughtful look. "At least you didn't fall on the lake." It's her attempt to commiserate, a reference to the busty laundress who literally.. busted, on the skating rink. "There will be other parties. And prettier dresses. Did you have any fun?" Lycinea looks sufficiently miserable to be convincing. There's even a good chance most if it's authentic. "No," she mopes. "Not even a little. I spent all night trying not to trip on my heels. And then I did and then the thing with Weyrwoman Azaylia, and then kissing V'ros to fix his makeup and it getting all awkward and awful and then I just left. Because..." it was awful! Obviously! She trails off into silence, letting the rest be assumed. Humor causes the corners of the brunette's mouth to curl upwards, but she won't do something as unforgivable as laugh at her friend's missteps. She offers up a sympathetic sound, not moving her eyes from the girl's miserable face. "Whatever would give you cause to grab your," she looks down at her own flat chest, "breasts in front of the Weyrwoman?" That right there is a conundrum, but Farideh's face clears up as she recognizes a familiar name. "You kissed that guy? I heard he's as sour as milk and just as unimpressive." Her nose wrinkles, her hand reaching out to grab Lycinea's. "Now you know." "Oh," Lya's cheeks still hold color, "well." She pauses as though trying to think back to how it actually just went down, "She said I oughtn't worry about stains on my knees from falling in those stupid boots and that boys wouldn't look that low, and I was explaining how they-" the breasts, not the boots, though those too, presumably, "are still new and I grabbed them I guess to illustrate the point, only I didn't know it was the Weyrwoman at the time since her costume was quite good. And-" clearly it was just a disaster. So Lya settles for stopping there and biting her lip. "I was just trying to help V'ros fix his make up. He was-- he had kisses all over from-- someone else. And he smudged one while we were talking and I was wearing lip gunk and-- that was a stupid mess too." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry I didn't listen. We could've done something else instead. And actually had some fun. Maybe." Maybe. Farideh listens with a sympathetic ear to the whole tale, and at the end, she pats Lycinea's hand comfortingly. "Next turnover we can plan something better. Fort Hold is my favorite, but this turn they cancelled everything." She frowns, momentarily, before breaking into a stunning smile. "Come tell me what you've been about since then. I have heard of the best gossip this turn already, and I bet the kitchen has more." Lya's smile is softer, perhaps even more genuine than the one Fari shortly after lavishes on her, for next turnover. "Yeah. In the meantime, I'm going to see if Telavi can chop the dress off above the knees, unless you know a trick to get the stains out." She sighs wistfully, but there's the edge of resignation that says probably not possible. "Just shifts in the kitchen." That's easily lamentable, but the mundanities of their day to day is something they share, and there is a plethora of gossip to be shared. Teenage girls will always find something to talk about, won't they? And they do. |
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