Logs:No Fashion Sense
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| RL Date: 6 June, 2015 |
| Who: Telavi, Solith, Keysi, Neianth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi arrives to help Keysi with some furniture thoughts and talk of previous tenants, but neither yet find the hidden cache. |
| Where: Hidden Secrets Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 13, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'zin/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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>---< Hidden Secrets Weyr, High Reaches Weyr(#1184R) >-----------------------< Inside, the mundaneness continues with clean floors and bare walls. Neither small nor large, the cavern is relatively warm with a hearth as is typical of many weyrs at High Reaches and a large rug that lies before it. Simply woven, the rug is made up of neatly patterned blocks of primary colors and adds a festivity to the otherwise somnolent weyr. All in all, it seems serviceable as living quarters with the exception of some variants in the coloring of the stone walls, a large panel-like rectangle a slightly darker shade of stone than the rest, and when the rug is shook out, underneath the glint of a tiny latch catches whatever light might be available. Neianth has claimed this ledge with no hesitation. Only a few minutes ago had he swept them both back up to the ledge, testing his quickly-growing acrobatics in the approach to climb the elevation at different angles. Now settled, he has his dark-hewn forepaws laying over the edge of the ledge, surveying the bowl from their lofty height. Keysi stands just behind him, kneeling as she folds the riding straps, unfortunately already becoming tight on the brown. The snow falls only lightly, bare precursor of the blizzard of later, and Solith descends as featherlight with it. « Neianth! » she greets with delight, if not precisely a request, her wings fluttering wide to slow her as she heads at an angle to avoid where he sits. It's not as though he's even as long as she is, yet! Her rider, all done up in cap and scarves, has her gloved hand over her mouth against the cold-- or a laugh. Neianth seems unperturbed by the weather, and the knowledge of the incoming worsening weather. Their ledge is unprotected from the winds and the whip of the cold air. Keysi, too, however appears as though it doesn't matter. Perhaps Nei's pleasure with this plain place makes up for everything else. Keys herself had no expectations, and the neutrality of the place fits her down-to-business attitude. Granted that means there's nothing in the weyr except the original furniture. Ripples meet the pleasant green, edging into her mind as genle waves, brilliant reflections of mountains within that serene pool. Rarely is he so serene as this! « Solith. » Rumbles follow his greeting and he shifts up onto his haunches, wings flared slightly, so that he can be out of her way. Keysi stands as Telavi arrives, a hand raising. "I didn't miss a class did I? I thought there was another hour." Of course that's the first thing on her mind. « Yours! » comes with sunny reflection upon reflection upon his ledge and even his very paws' claws, multiplied in their paleness. Never mind that she's landing upon said ledge, that she's landed upon it, that her rider's already off and assuring, "No, no. I'm here to see what you've done with the place!" Already. In the last couple of minutes. "Or, you know, will do; let's go in, tell me about your plans." Solith can puff out a breath and send snowflakes skittering, her eyes twice-lidded instead of once- with the weather. « What do you like best? » The image of what they can see from the height is what is echoed from brown weyrling dragon to green instructor- the spire rising high across from them, the bowl so very far below, the eternally snow-capped mountains beyond. It's obscurred and then dissolves beneath his ripples, pleasure rather than the far more typical impatient, frustrated aggitation flows somewhat easily. « Do you like it too? » Follows the mirrored imagery of what they can see from up here. His tan-crested, crescent-touched face tilts up to watch Solith play with the snowflakes, curious but not one to partake in whimsy or play himself. Keysi allows the hint of relief to take the tension from her shoulders. With the confirmation, she turns to collect the riding straps she'll have to let out yet again (and, soon, have to make a new pair completely- why didn't she think this far ahead) and move towards the inner weyr. "Sure, come in." Is all she says until they get out of the wind that could cut through any flight jacket. When the hearth's warmth becomes tangible, she eventually turns. "I didn't really have any plans. It's livable, yeah?" She has no knowledge of these things! And certainly no talent in design. « I do! » Hers is high too, Solith shares, only with a view of the killing pens should she ever desire to look down. Unabashedly she moves to his lee to the extent that's available, no matter that he's smaller than she; there are more snowflakes, more snowflakes that she may induce to come to her only to breathe them away once more. Her rider's walked in with Keysi, thoug she's moved on, sauntering through the place. "I remember this one. Do you like the rug? Or is it too bright for you? It's very livable; it has good bones, you can do anything with it."
Even better. Solith soaks it in with pleasure; if she's not as enthused about how his moving away as let the wind back in, she doesn't mind his tracking down her space. It is, after all, hers. "Of course I have," Tela says as her dragon gladly continues to entertain Neianth, just a hint of dimple showing. "We're supposed to scope these things out, you know, though I don't imagine ever upgrading unless one turns up with a bath or something. Yes you can change the furniture, just swap it out in stores-- I can help you if you ever need, I know the assistant headwomen, even if things have changed around some," since the headwomen got swapped out like a spare bed. "Mine was too heavy to move, really, but yours isn't so bad. You can also convince someone who knows woodcarving to decorate what you've got, for the right favor. What colors do you like?" For all that there are a lot of words, she doesn't rattle them off; it's a little more like Neianth's ripples with their easy rise and fall. Keysi listens, though her grey gaze that's about equivalent with the surrounding bland stone sweeps the room. Perhaps until Telavi brought it up, she didn't even really think about anything more than getting a cot.. or at bed perhaps slightly better than a cot. She isn't picky. She scratches the back of her neck beneath poorly-cut hair, fortunate to have had a couple of months down now to make the edges less stark. "I would appreciate that." She finally gives in, realizing her misfortune in having such little taste. Barracks and tents have been her life, after all! "Blues, browns, tans." Not surprising, considering.. "Black, white." Well, her choices few, but it's something! Her voice trails off as she finds nothing else appealing to give. Fortunately, Keysi appreciates the rambling since she's absorbing it like it's a new class. "Are you good at layouts?" For once, actively seeking help. Maybe she is learning. "Those are easy to find," Tela is quick to assure. "Not like-- but never mind that," she stops herself from going off on any more of that tangent. "Did you ever live anywhere on your own, not with a bunch of apprentices or family or whatever? And of course I'm good at layouts," said with a glance over her shoulder that fairly sparkles for all that the brownrider's has been bland. "I tell you what, Keysi: think about what you'd like to do here-- do you need, well, want a workbench? do you want to be entertaining? do you want somewhere for lots of jars and lotions and potions if you get to do more healer-y things again? Think about it, and then find me and we'll come up with something. I mean... not that you should be thinking about it during class," but if she does, Telavi can't hardly stop her, now can she! "I didn't give it any thought. It was," was "just a space." Keysi admits, though in a more light-hearted manner as some hint of excitement simmers underneath her protected surface. "The closest I had was a shared tent on the roads. That was just a few people. Since then it was apprentice dorms or residents quarters or.." She waves a hand, dismissing the details. Her history is not a thing she ever really gets into, even with direct prying. "There's never really been anything to decorate. And I've never had furniture." That wasn't pre-assigned anyway. "I can have things like that?" Follows the concept of potions, "This is a lot of space." It really isn't but it is to her. "I could have healer supplies and a punching bag?" The two opposites that draw her two sides together. Offhandedly, she follows with, "Do you know who was here before me?" Telavi nods for the space, and then with continued interest for the tent and so forth-- unless it's for whatever she can detect of that simmering. "It is, isn't it?" It's a lot of space from Telavi's point of view, even now. "You can have both these things. Ask K'zin about hanging up a punching bag so it can't fall on you, since I don't think there's a hook here..." she paces along the expanse, looking up at whatever the glows can tell her. She's a little quieter when she says, "It was I'zech's. It's strange seeing it emptied out, but I suppose that's how it goes. And I guess a bunch of bronzeriders' before that? Serially, I mean, not all at once. I think. I'zech was Meara and Quinlys' assistant, for my clutch. Mine and K'zin's and everyone's, I mean." The giddiness is hard to hide, and the always-serious girl actually has to work at it to not overflow with the thought of something being changed with her preferences in mind. "I'zech's?" Is echoed when Telavi answers her question, her intense gaze dropping away from the assistant weyrlingmaster to consider if she could match the face to a name, or recognize it in the least. But it doesn't click and there's a short, slow shake of her head at the end of her attempt. "It looks well lived-in." She remarks as something of an agreement, if only for how worn the draconic couch outside is. "I'zech was an important figure?" A very open ended question to see what necessary details may come of it. "Well, he was important to us at the time," Tela says with a bit of a sniff. She drops down from her toes and puts her hands behind her back, wandering; she's slipped even further into off-duty mood with this. "What with the whole 'our boss' thing, and let's not forget sniffing around where he didn't belong," pot, kettle, as something subtly affectionate in her voice gives away. "Rojeth's? Bronze Rojeth's. Tall, much with the 'Don't care' attitude," said with a half-lidded roll of her eyes, "lots and lots of tattoos? And lots, seriously, Keysi. Not like the one big guy in the greenhouse, but sort of like that, except for the part where he was just as tall but maybe half his size." Keysi is observant enough not to miss the subtle changes in her voice. And as if she's still on a tour- a tour of her own weyr?- she follows behind Telavi's wandering a few steps back. "I think that describes most of the bronzeriders, except for the tattoos." It's humor, or supposed to be, though she has a hard time fluctuating her tone enough to make it actually sound quite right. "I don't go by the greenhouse much." Or anywhere fun much. "I guess once to grab a couple of herbs the infirmary was low on, but not long enough to see him." And, assumably, she would have noticed such an inked giant given her natural awareness. "And after him?" On the weyr again, "Or was the last?" As if it really matters who lived here to now how she decorates it. "He was the last," Telavi confirms after an a rather naughtily conspiratorial laugh-- bronzeriders!-- "and the greenhouse is awfully nice in wintertime. In summer, I could just bake, but times like this? Warm air that doesn't make your skin peel? Marvelous." Which is enough putting things off. "Before him was Z-something," presumably not 'Z'something,' and before him, well. K'del, if you can believe it." If those subtle changes Keysi's been observing are complex here in a different way, he is their weyrleader. "Mmm. Hmm." She scuffs her toe at the corner of the rug, not particularly watching what she's doing. "You could do a tent here, if you wanted." "I'm almost used to it." Keysi says about the weather that surely nobody could be 'used to' or ever nearly comfortable with. But she seems serious. Though she always does, so... "K'del? Really?" Finally a name she recognizes, though it's a little more than a surprise. And if Telavi is as sensitive to changes as Keys is, there's a subtle drop in her tone. An awkwardness that doesn't really belong to the intense weyrling. "I've left tents behind." It's another joking reply, the edges of her lips curled in a grin at the thought of living in a tent... inside.. again. Her path following the assistant weyrlingmaster pauses as Neianth spares a private exchange, a reminder. "We'll have to go soon. I think they'll be calling us. We can take the rug if you think they'll let me exchange it for something less.. bright." It doesn't always show when Telavi notices; this time, green-today eyes muse over Keysi for a moment, but she certainly doesn't ask. "Just think, the next Weyrleader could be you," she gently teases instead; there has been, after all, the notorious Taikrin. "Fine, we can take the rug; I'll help you carry it, even," she says before moving to roll it up. For all that Solith's supposed to work a little too at helping Olveraeth and his rider, she's far less concerned about it than Neianth. "If we had a big stick to drape it over... but it'll do! Now someone I know, she has hangings over her bed so it's like a tent but in a pretty way, not a dusty dirty ugh way, but I get not wanting it. Hmm. Some beds you can put up high and store stuff underneath, and then there's..." bound to be an interruption somewhere in here. The tease is taken in stride, as if not a tease at all but a fact of a possibility. Which, technically... Keysi is short in step behind to help roll the other end of the rug. It was an eyesore afterall. She just had thought she had to live with it, until Telavi's inspiration found its way into her weyr. A big rug, she moves it forwards over the for-now-unseen trapdoor sitting beneath it. "Neianth will want to carry it. I'm glad you offered before he could." That would be the only way to circumvent his comments certain to follow that he could manage anything. There's nothing he can't do. "No no no," Telavi says with a laugh, "'we,' 'you and me'-- well, 'you and I'-- can carry it." Does Keysi feel part of 'we,' these days? She lugs with an oof, happy to slide for now instead of carry, "To him. And then you can put his straps back on, because I know you love to do that, and I'll help you hook it up so it's more or less even, and he can fly, and he can be all proud 'look at me do this thing' and it will be excellent. And if you're late, you can tell Zeke you were working with me. Deal?" There's a very simple answer to that, considering the personality spread of their weyrling class, and it's probably a good thing Telavi doesn't ask Keysi that question openly. A pause, and the stern-faced girl considers what she misinterpreted. "He'll do excellent alright." He'll be the best rug carrier there ever was, if given a choice in the matter. There's still fondness there, even if it's just behind her mask. There will always be, for that brown of course. "The flight straps are a pain." She agrees to the words that are said with more sarcasm by the other. "It will only be a couple of weeks before I need to make new ones. I thought I made them with enough give to last until he was almost full grown.." She trails off, useless as it is since complaining doesn't do her all that much good. It was her own fault. "Deal." Simply put, but it seems relieved to a point given she never tolerates being late. |
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