Logs:Of Flights and Clutches
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| RL Date: 7 September, 2010 |
| Who: Sho, Taikrin, Uillean |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Uillean is wise enough not to question Iskiveth's fertility in front of Taikrin. Instead, they (and Sho) celebrate! |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 9, Turn 23 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A lovely, cloudless sky offers warm sunshine during the day, though the weather turns distinctly chilly after dark. |
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| Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl. There are rumors flying fast and furious around the Snowasis and the ledge just beyond, as there have been for the last couple of days. There are all sorts of people out on this relatively nice night, clustered in groups with a steady buzz of conversation all around. And then there's Taikrin: a couple of riders are just getting up from her table, leaving her alone with her beer and her smugness. Whatever rumors about Iskiveth that might be flying around-- they're definitely not to be heard within earshot of the brownrider's table. Why? Because the rumor about what Taikrin did to the last person who commented on her infertility is rather scary. Not everyone, it seems, listens to gossip. Or perhaps it's difficult for some people to connect names with faces. Whatever the reason, Uillean, with a glass of white wine in one hand, emerges from the Snowasis and, after a moment's thoughtful consideration, adjusts her path to take her towards Taikrin's table. The departing riders are given a precisely angled nod, and then the Weaver asks, polite, and with an accent that speaks of high class Crom, "Are these seats taken-- Brownrider?" Taikrin smiles magnanimously at the approaching weaver, gesturing at a free chair with her half-full mug of beer. "Not at all, go ahead-- have a seat." The amount of smug she's radiating really should be regulated: it's positively polluting the area. "Happy t'see anyone who wants t'come an' have a drink to Iskiveth an' her honor." From the slight flush in her otherwise pale cheeks, it's possible she's a bit drunk. "Sorry, didn't catch-- what's your name again?" It's possible that Uillean's measured gaze, having taken in the evidence in front of her, has now led to some measure of dismay; it certainly /is/ true that she hesitates for a moment after Taikrin's invitation. "Iskiv-- ah. The queen." Whatever her misgivings might be, she does sink gracefully into the gestured-at seat, setting her wine down in front of her. "My name is Uillean. I don't believe we've met before." At least Taikrin remains thoroughly oblivious to any sort of hesitation in Uillean's part: she's still grinning over at the weaver fit to burst. In fact, she goes so far as to offer a salute with the mug before downing a swallow. "Right, a'course. Iskiveth." A beat, then: "Don't reckon as we have. Well met, Uillean." It might be noticible, through the faint slur, that Taikrin's accent speaks very much of lower(est) class Crom -- in particular, the mining cotholds. "'M Taikrin, though I reckon you probably knew that already." Cue another overly large grin. Sho heads up a short flight of stairs from the bowl. It's relatively crowded night out here on the ledge, much as it is in the Snowasis. There's all sorts of rumors floating around about the flight a couple days before, though none of them are necessarily being repeated around where Taikrin and Uillean are sharing a table. "Taikrin," says Uillean, the faint hint of apology in there a not-quite-hidden suggestion that, in fact, she had no idea who Taikrin was until this moment. She smiles brightly - and politely - all the same, perhaps to make up for it. "A pleasure to meet you." For the moment, she doesn't put to words the uncertainty lingering around her eyes; instead, she says, "It's lovely to see a person in such good spirits." Another round of work done in the stables, and another rest of the day off for Sho. Ahh, isn't it nice? The youth decides that maybe it's time to try another of those alcoholic drinks, and maybe take it a bit slower this time and not get as, uh, crazy as the first time. The amber eyed boy steps onto the ledge and has a look around, trying to find a table...and his eyes stop on Taikrin. Maybe not the first person he'd choose to share a drink with, but he doesn't know anyone else in there at the moment and certainly doesn't feel like sitting by himself. So...Sho makes his way over to Taikrin's table, stopping a little bit away to nod a greeting to her and the other stranger, "Hello Taikrin. Ma'am. Mind if I join ya?" He asks. "Yeah, well, been an okay coupl'a days, ain't it? Don't get why all them's bein' so stupid." Taikrin waves her free hand, indicating the rest of the ledge ine one sweeping gesture. "Everything's /fine/ an' perfect an' flame those who ain't agreeing." If sheer determination were enough to quell the rumors, well, they'd all have been long gone. She opens her mouth to expound further on her rant, then closes it abruptly as Sho arrives. She lifts an eyebrow, but a magnanimous smile follows once more. "Sure, sure. Have a seat, Sho. This's Uillean," as if she'd known the weaver for more than a couple of minutes. "An' this's Sho, he works in th'stables." Uillean seems terribly determined to keep her expression neutral as Taikrin speaks, though the slight narrowing of her eyebrows suggests her continued uncertainty. Sho's arrival, at least, distracts the conversation for the moment; the dark-haired weaver turns her attention towards him, and she smiles, politely. "Good evening, Sho. A pleasure to meet you." The glass of wine in front of her is still full: the weaver has put her hands, tidily, on her lap. A smile of any kind from Taikrin is enough to catch Sho just a little off guard. He stares at her for just a moment, then shrugs a bit and relaxes, smiling himself. "Thanks." He says as he sits down at the table, his gaze shiting to Uillean as he offers a warm smile. "Nice ta meet you too." A look between the two of them curiously, "I wasn't interruptin' something was I?" Taikrin looks from one to the other expectantly, then deflates somewhat when whatever it was she was expecting doesn't occur. Finally, "Nah, just havin' a drink t'Iskiveth, y'know?" She leans back in her chair, utterly full of herself once more. "Nice night, good beer, decent company-- ain't so bad, is it?" Another swig of beer, then she follows up with, "You all-- havin' a good coupl'a days too, yeah? Didn't get too worked up over all that noise what was goin' on, yeah?" Oh yes: far, /far/ too smug. Pink-cheeked, Uillean ventures, "It was-- rather an experience." She seems unsettled by it, her gaze lowering towards the table rather than meeting Taikrin's - or Sho's, for that matter. "I had not realised how intensive such things were. Perhaps that was a sign of how, ah, successful the flight was?" Finally, she reaches for her glass, draping delicate fingers around the stem. "I'm sure there will be lots of eggs. Perhaps even a gold?" Her grasp of such things, it seems, is minimal. Either Sho's playing dumb or he really doesn't keep up with what's going on in the Weyr. One is just as likely as the other, unfortunately. He stops a waitress as she passes and orders a beer. What kind? Whatever's good. When he looks back at Taikrin he tilts his head slightly, "Didn't seem any different then normal. Somethin' happen?" He asks with pure innocence. Locked away in the stables...it's no surprise. "Yeah, yeah, it was pretty somethin' alright." Either Taikrin isn't as well-versed in draconic biology as she should be, or she's displaying more forceful ignorance, because Uillean's suggestion practically lights up her face. "A gold, you think so? They /did/ go a long time, an' Szadath's pretty big an' awesome-- man, I bet Iskiveth would totally be over the moons about it. Hah. Gold." At which point she can only roll her eyes at Sho. "You really /are/ like a little kid, y'know that? Teenage boy like you, figure you would'a been one of the /worst/ when Iskiveth went off. Go figure, huh?" She shoots a look, eyebrows raised, at Uillean: /boys/. Uillean seems genuinely pleased that her suggestion earns such a response, and turns the wattage of her smile up, accordingly. "I'm sure it will be an excellent clutch, gold or no," she promises, all trace of that earlier uncertainy wiped clean. Perhaps Taikrin is convincing. Perhaps she's just a good judge of the appropriate - and of the audience. She is, however, definitely playing dumb in her response to Taikrin's raised eyebrow look, hurriedly turning her attention back to Sho. "It was probably wise, to avoid the-- well. It took /me/ by surprise, I must say." Sho blinks at Taikrin, then looks between Uillean and Taikrin for a few moments, then sighs and shrugs. Woman. His beer arrives and he pays the waitress before starting to sip at it gently, wrinkling his nose a bit at the taste. Well, it could be worse. He listens to the chatter back and forth between the ladies and but doesn't say anything until Uillean speaks to him, at which point they both get another look. "What took ya by surprise? What happened?" Yep, completely dumbfounded. Nothing seems to make Taikrin happier than people speaking positively both about the flight and the possibilities of a clutch-- really, if she was grinning anymore, she might break her face. "Took all of us, it did; don't reckon even Teris saw it comin'. There I was, sittin' in th'baths minding my own business an' next thing I know Szadath's bloodin' his kill an' somehow I'm in Teris' weyr an' everythin's going nuts." As if that weren't explanation enough, she adds on in a slow, measured tone that's probably pretty insulting, "Iskiveth /rose/, Sho. Flight. Couple nights ago. An' Szadath caught her. Shells boy, you /got/ to get out of those stables more. Don't know /how/ you didn't feel all the ruckus." The flush returns to Uillean's cheeks as the conversation continues; she seems largely uncomfortable with it, despite valiant attempts to keep up her smile. "I admit, it was difficult to miss. Perhaps," she offers to Sho, sympathetically, "you are simply not very sensitive?" Unlike Uillean, of course, who clearly had a very definite experience. She takes a sip from her wine, now, giving it the consideration it, no doubt, deserves. Blink. "Oh really? Uh...congrats Taikrin." Sho offers with a grin, hoisting his beer out to her in a toast before taking a swig and managing to not make a face this time. Yeah, he can get used to this stuff. Plus, it's actually relaxing him some already. Light weight. "We don't hear much in the stables. Animals got a little rickety few days ago so maybe that was it. We were to busy calming 'em all down. But they do that if a dragon even flies to close so didn't think nothin' of it." Shrug. "So uh, Szadath's gonna be a daddy? Must be pretty exciting fer him." Beat. "And you too." He looks back to Uillean then and notes her flushing, but manager to keep his mouth closed about it. Instead he simply answeres her questions, "Yeah, guess not." "Yeah he--- he--- shells." Despite all the talk of eggs and clutches and successful flights, apparently /this/ angle of it never occured to Taikrin: her jaw goes slack, and she just gapes at Sho. "Bloody shells, he is gonna be a daddy. We're gonna be a daddy." She looks from Sho to Uillean, raw bewilderment coloring her voice. "Iskiveth and-- Szadath's gonna be a /daddy/. He /is/!" At first there's just a crack of a smile, but as her determination grows, so does her enthusiasm. "OI! Waiter-man! We need some whiskey over here, fast! Szadath's gonna be a /daddy/!" Her overly loud pronouncement earns more than a few stares, and a couple snickers to boot, but Taikrin doesn't care-- she's gonna be a dad! Uillean's polite smile doesn't encourage Taikrin's enthusiasm, but nor does it seem intent upon reducing it, either. "Congratulations," she tells the brownrider, firmly. "I'm sure they will be lovely dragons." And not malformed monsters, really! The weaver does cast a quick glance at Sho, and there's something in her expression that seems to be attempting to say something to him, but if that's true, she's not very good at it. "I remember my father bringing me to see a hatching here, once. I believe it was the one where the last queen hatched... Rielsath was it? A sight to see, indeed." Well, Szad would be the daddy and Taikrin would be some...well...weird hybrid mom-dad. Sho doesn't say anything though, not about that. It's kind of strange to think about anyways. But hey, free drinks, Sho won't turn it down. Though it could get interesting fast. Sho just grins and reaches out to thunk Taikrin on the shoulder all friend-like, because they're good buddies you know. Yep. "Well congrats again Taikrin. Glad ta see you so happy. Don't think it's ever happened before." He teases her. He misses the look from Uillean completely. There's that determination again, and the look Taikrin tosses around the ledge is no-nonsense. "They /will/ be beautiful babies, /lots/ of 'em, an' I'll pound whoever's sayin' else!" Just so we're clear. She sits back in her seat again to wait for her celebratory drinks, grinning ear-to-ear at Uillean and Sho. "Really? I ain't never watched a hatching before, 'cept for, you know, the one where I got Szad, an' he was like the second dragon shelled so I didn't really see much. What's it like, watchin'? Awesome?" The shoulder-thunk from Sho is met, surprisngly enough, with another smirk. "Yeah, well. S'been a good seven. /Real/ good seven." Her eyebrows raising, Uillean nonetheless does not argue with Taikrin's insistance. Still. Again. "It went very quickly," reports the Weaver, sounding thoughtful as she thinks back to the events of some nine turns ago. "I recall being surprised by that. It was very interesting, however. I imagine you'll have an excellent view of this one," she offers. The weaver takes another sip from her glass, and then adds, quietly, "I am sure they will all come around, when the eggs are on the sand." "Apparently." Sho replies to Taikrin, grin widening. "Well you'll get ta watch this one I'd say, right? From a spot of honor?" he asks. Really, Sho hasn't seen a Hatching either, so he's not sure. He can only guess at what happens. Of course the word 'Hatching' helps a little. The boy falls silent then and lets the two ladies talk as he sips from his beer, finding that the taste is actually not so bad after all. "I don't-- I don't actually know. Probably? Haven't, you know, really talked about it with Teris or nothin'." Taikrin's voice grows pensive as she considers. "Didn't really cover this in one of those lectures, y'know? Things a daddy's s'pposed to do? I mean, like-- am I supposed to get her a present or somethin'?" she demands of the two of them. "S'not like I knocked Teris up, but y'know-- an' Szad's just happy t'be hanging' around Iskiveth, but shells-- what do y'all think?" A smile flickers across Uillean's lips at this; she seems genuinely amused, and not just polite about it. "A gift never goes astray, in my experience," she confirms. "Perhaps just something small?" Her wine glass gets set back down upon the table, and then, a little archly, her body leaning ever so slightly forward, "You ought to consider clothes, too. If you are to be on the sands when they hatch, you'll want something new - you will both be amidst the centre of attention." It's not that she's ignoring Sho, though for the moment, Taikrin is at the centre of her attention. "I would be happy to provide my assistance with that. For both you and the Junior Weyrwoman. At a discount, of course: my congratulatory gift to you both." Sho is really quiet now. He knows for sure that Taikrin wasn't asking HIM anything about gifts or dragons or...anything. In fact at the thought she might be asking him he looks a little timid. He sure as heck don't know. More beer drinking, yep. He's good being quiet for now, let the ladies discuss the 'gift' option. "Yeah, maybe, think you might be right." Relief sags Taikrin back against her chair. "Somethin' small. She likes wine. An-- shells, yeah, reckon we /do/ need somethin' nice, maybe. Faranth knows we gotta look /good/--" She's interrupted by the return of the waiter with three whiskeys, which are swiftly distributed around the table. "--ahh, perfect. Yeah, that'd be perfect-- weaver, then, are you? Been meanin' t'find one anyways, so-- you're like th'best thing." Whiskey in hand, she leans over to faux-whisper to Sho, "Pay attention, kid. Might learn a thing or two on how y'gotta treat a lady. 'Specially if that lady's got a dragon and is one of my friends." That said, she offers a salute to first Uillean then Sho, and then the entire two fingers of liquor is popped down her throat. "I think a bottle of wine would be most appropriate," agrees Uillean, as though the etiquette in such a situation is just one more thing taught to her from an early age. /Her/ whiskey is given a somewhat dubious glance, but the weaver gamely accepts the glass and takes a good, solid sip, managing not to splutter, cough, or in any other way disgrace herself. "A weaver, yes. I specialise in more formal attire, but my skills are flexible-- they need to be, around here, though perhaps the hatching will encourage some further trade." She aims a smile at both her companions, but begins, at this point, to draw herself from the table. "I'm afraid I do have other business, but it has been a pleasure to meet you both. Perhaps you'll come down to the Complex at some point, Brownrider, and we can talk clothes?" Sho peers at his whiskey as it arrives, giving it a sniff and trying not to gag. Ah well...he's had it before. And it was his end before. Oh well. The youth grins at the faux whisper and he gives Taikrin an okay sign with his hand. "Yes ma'am mistress Taikrin. I'll watch and learn from...you." Then, swalling his pride, his tips the whole glass back and swallows the liquid, coughing a bit as it burns it's way down and gives him a bit of a chill, but then he's grinning again. See, all good. Sho looks up at Uillean starts to depart and he offers her a wave of parting. "Nice ta meet ya Uillean. Take care of yerself." He offers. "If ya ever want ta ride a runner come by the stables." Taikrin sets her glass down with rather more enthusiasm than might be strictly called for, though she does avoid actually /breaking/ it, and offers a hand across the table to Uillean. "Sure, sure. Pleasure's all mine. I'll for sure be stoppin' by there when I get a chance, 'cause there's /gonna/ be a hatching, and we shardin' well gotta look nice for it. See if I can't maybe get Teris down there, too. Reckon she always appreciated somethin' nice." To Sho, simply: "Good boy. Know you're catchin' on." Sho's offer gets a polite, but somewhat disinterested nod from Uillean, who seems more interested in the (dubious?) honor of being the weaver to dress the brownrider, and more importantly, the Junior Weyrwoman. It's all about business, in the end. She accepts Taikrin's hand, shakes it, her head inclining forward. "That would be delightful," she says, firmly. And then she leaves - leaving behind her the remains of her wine, /and/ the rest of her whiskey. |
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