Logs:Of Expectations 2
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2006 |
| Who: C'len, Dassah, Jarina, K-star, Kasiese, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 19:29 on day 26, month 6, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer evening. You walk into the tunnel to the living cavern. Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RJs) The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Piles of summer fruit give off a shimmer of color and a waft of sweet aromas from their cradling bowls. Hanging sheaves of herbs and spices rustle in the breeze, adding their fragrance as well. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal. Contents: Jarina Kasiese Dassah Jemah Large Ale Cask Tray of Bubblies(#6808V$) Firelizard Perch(#5030Jae$) Obvious exits: Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns Kasiese's attention turns to Jarina the moment she speaks; what with Dassah seeming busy and all, the Healer welcomes a second greeting as much as she did the first. "Good?" she asks with a smile. "It's a bit too cold to be good -- okay is better, but it doesn't quite have the zing, does it?" Jarina smiles down at Dassah then grins at Kasiese. "Cold? I was thinking it was a rather nice and warm day." R'hin steps in from the bowl, moving to one side of the entrance as he pauses to scan the occupants of the living caverns with a sharp eye. Lips twist in apparent dissatisfaction as the object of his search is not to be found, and he shoves hands into his pockets as he begins crossing the caverns, expertly weaving his way between the tables, headed vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. He's dressed fairly casually, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up in deference to the summer air. Bucket returns, Dassah moves back over to the other women and offers a cold smile. "I have to agree with Jarina here. Compared to the humid, sweltering summers we get down south, this is positively delightful. I definately picked the right time of year to visit. Admittedly winter would be hard, but I don't think that will be an issue." Kasiese shrugs half-way, saying, "I like the heat far more; maybe I'm too sensitive to cold. Then again, I get cold in the summer, too, so it doesn't particularly matter either way." Dassah gets a quiet look, then, "Where in the south, exactly?" As for R'hin's entrance, the young apprentice lets her gaze follow him as he zigzags through the tables, but she says nothing of his entrance, mouth turned into a slight frown. R'hin disappears into the kitchens for a short while, then finally ventures out and heads towards the food tables, passing them until he reaches the drinks. Pouring himself a mug of the redfruit juice, an almost cheerful wave given at a few of the looks he receives. Kasiese's frown, too, is noted, and with a twitch of lips, the Weyrleader veers in the direction of the small grouping. "Huddled up near the hearth! You mark yourself too clearly as a non-Reachian." The words apparently serve for greeting, easy nod given to Dassah and Jarina both. Jarina grins at Kasiese and nods to her. "My Aunt from Ista is like that. She says she'll never visit during the winter unless she has to." "I like Southern most of the time, but I admit high summer gets to me." Dassah admits. "So I am looking forward to cooler environs, at least for a while." She smiles to R'hin as he approaches. "Good evening, Sir." She says politely. "And not all non-Reachians are so susceptible to the cold." "I never claimed I was anything else, Sir," Kasiese says politely, even as she strips off the jacket and slings it over the back of the chair. Silly mindtricks, perhaps. Dassah gets a scrutinizing look, then Kasi's gaze is back in her mug, where she swirls the steaming liquid and sips at it before commenting, "Not all, but some. I am, tough luck for me." Uninvited, R'hin settles into one of the chairs, balancing the mug on the armrest, lips curving at Dassah's comment. "True enough, I suppose. I've heard some say that you're not a true 'Reachian until you've gone ice skating on the lake. Or that your parent's parents were born here. Considering I fulfill neither prerequisite..." he trails off, hands spreading before dropping into his lap. "True enough, true enough. Kasiese, wasn't it? Who's your master?" Jarina and Dassah, too, get careful looks, as if he's reaching for names. Jarina continues on toward the serving tables and carefully pours herself a large glass of wine before heading back the way she came. "Sorry for running off immediately, but I was just looking for a drink." Dassah offers Jarina a slight smile. "Be well, Jarina." Turning back, she settles into a chair herself, looking between Kasiese and R'hin. "I don't think I've ever really even /seen/ ice, let alone skated on it." She says, with a smirk. "Dassah, sir." She offers him politely. "Just a visitor here, at this point. Trying to find my uncle who I was told lives here at the Weyr." She turns towards Kasiese, "And on your earlier question, Southern Weyr specifically. Mother was an assistant to the headwoman there." Kasiese tips a nod to Jarina in farewell, saying, "I went ice skating, once. Fell a million times. You will never see me on ice again. Not of my own will at least." Another swallow of klah, and the mug is empty, which leaves Kasiese peering inside with an expression of mild dismay and, occassionally, considering the klah boiling not far away. "Yes, sir, it was Kasiese," she says. "I'm here with a Senior Journeyman, Artlan, right now." A mention of Southern Weyr widens her smile, slightly, as Kasiese says, "We always wanted to go there. Eventually, I hope." Jarina strides through the archway, into the lower caverns. Jarina has left. R'hin's gaze tracks Jarina's departure, but attention returns soon enough to the remaining two. Brows flicker upwards in momentary consternation at Dassah's words. "Dassah. I'd assumed you were a resident, given--" he waves vaguely in the direction she took the bucket. "I didn't think we ordinarily put visitors to work so soon. Your uncle--?" A pause, then he says, "If anyone would know, it would be Jemah." A tip of his head indicates the dozing older woman, though he makes no moves to try and wake her. "Artlan? I've heard the name, but not had the pleasure. You'll have to introduce me some time." K-Star walks in with a book and looks around. She notices that there are more people around than there were earlier, and smiles at the group. She sits at a table near the fire and starts reading. Dassah looks towards Kasiese curiously, "We? It's a lovely place, I recommend visiting when you can." She looks over to R'hin, and shrugs. "I've not had much luck catching up with the headwoman, and I don't like to feel like a leech. So, I do what little things I can do. Jemah?" She asks, with an uncertain glance at the elderly woman. "I will, uh, try to remember to ask her when she's awake." Still, she plainly looks unconvinced. A little twitch of R'hin's lips are evidence of agreement with Dassah's apparent lack of conviction. His voice lowers marginally, "She, unfortunately, knows everything, or seems to think she does. Still, you might get some sliver of an accurate answer in amongst the... fanciful creations." He tips his head briefly to the arriving woman in greeting, though attention soon enough reverts to Dassah. "If you don't find this uncle of yours, you'll move on? Is he a rider?" Dassah shakes her head towards R'hin. "I dunno." She admits. "Mother always said Gordon was here, though, so I am hoping to run into him. I don't think he's a rider, though, she would have mentioned something like that. If he's not... Well, I guess I'd go back to Southern. Just would be nice to be in touch with family, so I have to at least try." R'hin's fingers tap against his mug as he takes a gulp. "You could always ask Josilina. She's... friendly with everyone, if he's here, or been here, I'm sure she would've heard of him." There's a faint curl of lips that bespeaks brief amusement, though the Weyrleader's eyes are on his mug. C'len meanders in from the tunnel to the bowl. C'len has arrived. Dassah looks a bit surprised. "The Weyrwoman, sir? I wouldn't want to be a bother, she's much more important things to worry about than helping some stranger find someone. I'm sure the headwoman will be quite able to point me in the right direction. But thank you very much for the suggestion." Kasiese shrugs, noncommitted, to R'hin's interest in meeting Artlan, and instead replies to Dassah, "Yes, we. My family and I. You always want to be somewhere other than home, I suppose." As for the regard of Jemah, Kasiese will have the grace not to grimace at the sleeping woman, and instead will say, "She's not all right," in an undertone, more to the mug than to R'hin and Dassah, though she will give them both a meaningful look and tap her temple, shaking her head no. The mention of weyrwomen perks the young woman, and she says, "Well, maybe you could ask Satiet; she apparently makes it part of her duties to know everyone in the caverns." A shrug for the idea immediately follows. Vildaeth's rider appears to have arrived in a hurry, boots stuffed onto his feet without having been tied and his hair still damp from an evening dip in the lake. C'len's shirt, at least, is buttoned neatly, though it hangs outside his pants rather than being tucked in. Wrinkles spread from his eyes as he squints into the large cavern, as if searching for someone--and, having found him, the rider draws in a slow breath as if collecting himself, straightens his shirt as if that might help, then wanders over toward sandy-haired Weyrleader as if he hasn't a care in the world. "Vildaeth said you needed to see me, sir?" asked of R'hin. Apparently there was some sense of urgency in the request, whether it was necessary or not. The amusement turns into a low laugh, R'hin's head canting upwards with an easy smile. "Trust me. She's -all- about helping random strangers. It's her thing. It'll make her happy." He's seated, along with Dassah and Kasiese, close to the hearth. A brief cough follows Kasiese's suggestion of Satiet, the bronzerider's wry comment of the youngest weyrwoman, "But far less... no, wait," he pauses, looking pleased, "Ah, no, in fact, that's a perfect suggestion. Tell her I sent you to seek her generous assistance, Dassah." C'len's arrival - rushed as it is, is met with a surprised lift of head. "Ah, yes. Sit, would you?" he invites, nodding to a chair. "Vildaeth is well?" Dassah looks at R'hin warily; she can see a setup when one is in place. "If I have the oppertunity to speak to either of them, perhaps I will ask." She says, carefully. "But I am not in any rush, and I will do my best to pull my weight in the meantime, I can assure you." She looks over towards Kasiese. "Satiet... She's one of the other goldriders, correct? I've tried to learn their names, at least, though I fear I'm not so great at names in general. As for being somewhere other than home... I guess that's part of why I am here. Home wasn't comfortable anymore." C'len takes the chair easily, dropping into it witha long exhalation as he reaches up to push hair back from his eyes. "He'd be better if it were snowing outside, but he's always got a qualm with the weather unless it's cold enough to turn your breath into ice." As for the others, he takes a moment to nod to those nearby that he knows, and even those he doesn't, while he attempts to somewhat-stealthily reach to tie his boots. Little success with the stealthy part, though he does manage to get them tied. "Perhaps if you take a glass of wine with you to help her remember the information you need," he provides to Dassah with a grin. "She does appreciate a good wine." Kasiese looks sidelong at R'hin, her eyes narrowing slightly with a skeptical look. She opens her mouth to speak, probably something argumentative in defense of Satiet, from the looks of it, before C'len's approach cuts her off and she closes her mouth again. She watches the bronzerider's exchange quietly, pulling her legs up into her chair, and raises a hand greeting to C'len in return to his nod, but otherwise lets them to thier devices. With a sidelong glance towards Dassah, Kasi nods, "Yeah, she is. She was helpful when I got here, at least." "She does, at that," R'hin agrees with C'len's assessment of the weyrwoman, lips curved. He half shifts in his chair, pale eyes flickering over the other bronzerider, taking in the attempt to subtly tie his shoe. His voice lowers a bit, but the pair near them can undoubtedly hear him just the same. "I'd heard you had some issues, before I took over Glacier." It's a statement, not a query, and yet there's a pause as if he expects some sort of response. Dassah nods to C'len, "I will bear that in mind, sir." She says, politely. She shifts a bit, uncomfortable with the abundance of attention to her goal. "I wouldn't much know what a good wine is versus a bad, I always preferred the citrus liquor some of the riders back home make." "Maybe just take a whole bottle of anything then. Quantity over quality?" C'len's mouth twists into a moment's grin, before it thins a little, as he spares a shrug for R'hin. He starts to say one thing, mouth forming around the words, before he stops, reconsidering--and apparently decided to go for the straightforward answer. "We did. Vildaeth had that close run-in with the bowl wall the first time we between'd back to the Weyr as weyrlings." It's said unflinchingly, as if, Turns later, he can face it without the memory's pain. "And so we had some trouble with some of the close-in formations, and some of the drills. Then we were away at Ista for a while for Nalaieth's clutch, and had to do some catch-up." The gossip'll be out there anyway, so might as well come clean with it all if there's a need. K-Star stifles a yawn as she continues reading, the warmth of the fire making her a little drowsy. Although there's a faint twitch of lips for the talk of wine, R'hin's pale eyes are fixed on C'len with long, considering look, a brief tip of head given as he absorbs the information. "I'll need you to work on that," is all he says, simply. "You'll be setting an example, after all. I'm appointing you to take over Snowstrike from M'rek." Not - interestingly - that the current Wingleader has stepped down. "You can pick your own Wingseconds, though I may be doing some... moving around, so you may wish to wait until that's completed." That shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, since the rumor mill's been churning about a wing reorganization for some time. Kasiese looks mildly perturbed by the banter about wine, but remains silent, knee drawn up and chin resting on it as she watches the riders. She makes a face at C'len's explanation, wincing slightly just at the thought of it; the expression, however, changes rapidly from pained surprise to a small smirk for the promotion. "Congratulations," she offers quietly, contemplating the change. Dassah is quiet during the conversation between the riders, though she is clearly listening. To Kaiese, she offers a quiet, "I think, though, I'll just keep waiting on the headwoman. I have some other questions anyway, so I need to talk to her either way." At the promotion, though, a smile is offered to C'len. "Congratulations, it sounds like?" "I have been working on it sir, though progress has been--" C'len breaks off, and whatever it's been will remain unknown for now. "Take over Snowstrike? Is that really a good idea?" His brows furrow, deepening the lines around his eyes and revealing some across his forehead. "I mean, not that I'm afraid of the work, though I guess it'll mean less time for baking," and he pats his stomach there, "but wouldn't, uh," drawing at straws, "L'sen be better? He was the leader of our weyrling wing. He's at least got a little experience." Little. A little twist of lips accompanies R'hin's bland response, "Whether it's a good idea or not remains to be seen, Wingleader," he bestows the title as a gift already given. "If you wish L'sen as one of your 'seconds, you can negotiate with Melata for him." He doesn't, however, give C'len's objection any credence, saying only, "I believe you are what the Weyr needs, right now." The words are spoken with the surety of confidence, though the astute may note the 'I', rather than any 'we'. He drains the last of his juice, setting the cup aside. K-Star almost dozes off in the comfort of her seat with the warmth of the fire (and the boringness of the book). After almost losing her grip of the book, K-Star bolts momentarily alert and heads home to sleep Kasiese nods agreement with Dassah, with a half-way shrug that means nothing at all. "I suppose. But if that doesn't work, I'd say Satiet -- she did seem to know plenty of people, and I'm sure she'd help you...with or without wine." Beat. "She is a bit forward, though." Whatever that means, particularly. As for the bronzeriders, she just smiles at C'len's objections, eyebrows raised slightly. "Negotiate with Melata," C'len says with a nod, eyeing R'hin warily. "Right," he drawls slowly, the sound tapering off. "Maybe I could just bake L'sen some cookies instead and convince him to jump ship." Then he suddenly realizes what he's saying, and there's a soft sigh from him. "Wingleader, huh. Ah well, we'll see what happens. Hope your confidence isn't misplaced." The last is said with a grin and another shrug, long legs stretching out in front of him under the table. Dassah nods at Kasiet, "Yeah." The riders seem forgotten for now, in their own conversation. "I will do my best. I admit, it's... A bit overwhelming. There are a lot more people here, in a lot smaller a space, than there was back home. I've only been here a few days and I already feel a bit closed in." "I've been here a few months," Kasiese says with a smile, "and I'm still getting lost. Doesn't say much for me, but I swear every time I turn around there's a new tunnel I don't remember seeing. Artlan's just quit sending me to the storerooms to restock the one in the infirmary. I take too long." There's a pause, in which she thinks, then, "If I can help you find him, just say; I can ask around if you want - maybe the Healers here know who he is?" There's definitely a small chuckle from R'hin at C'len's drawl. "I would be shocked if many needed convincing to transfer. You'd still need to work it out with their Wingleader, though." As the Weyrleader leans forward, he produces a Wingleader's knot, holding it out to C'len with a twist of lips. "So do I, C'len. Look on the bright side - if it doesn't work out, I'll get the blame, rather than you." It's not entirely clear if he's joking or not, his gaze shifting to the women, as if vaguely keeping tabs on their conversation. Dassah nods. "I'm sure it will be ok. I don't want to make a big deal of it, it's... Not greatly important. Just some family stuff I need to talk with him about, that's all. From what I can gather, he's pretty much the eldest now..." A shrug. "But I appreciate the offer, very much. He'll turn up, I am sure." C'len accepts the knot and tucks it into a pocket, to be placed properly later, presumably. "There's that, at least," the rider says with a slight smirk, and then he's drawing his legs back to push himself out of the seat. "I, uh, think I need something to drink. And maybe another dip in the lake." He inclines his head to R'hin. "If you need me, Vildaeth knows where I am." And then he give s a small wave and ventures toward the kitchen, the better to find something stronger to drink. R'hin bestows a respectful tip of head towards the new Wingleader, pale eyes following the bronzerider's departure before he exhales as if in silent relief. He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back in the chair for a moment. C'len steps away from the tables and heads into the busy kitchen. C'len has left. With a shrug, the young healer says, "The offer stands, if you need it later. It's harder to find people here than I ever thought it would be." She pauses, pursing her lips, before adding, "Not that I'm trying to be discouraging, even if I am actually being discouraging." She breaks for another pause to consider her rambling and say with a winning smile towards the departing Wingleader, "Congratulations again; and good luck." Then to R'hin, Kasiese will say, "Was it that hard, to sigh like that?" Dassah smiles a bit. "I'm not worried, I am a very stubborn woman and I am sure I will work it out. And until then, I'll just... Do my best to fit in around here while I can. It's interesting, seeing how somewhere else lives. It feels a lot different to home." She looks over at R'hin curiously, though she doesn't give in to the urge to comment. "You've no idea," R'hin remarks, with dry amusement. He pushes himself up, nodding to the pair. "I'm sure I'll see you both around." Without much of an explanation, he strides off across the caverns, headed for the bowl. You walk outside to the bowl. |
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