Logs:Of Simplicity
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| RL Date: 9 October, 2006 |
| Who: M'wen, R'hin, Tavrie |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| You push the hides aside and step into the kitchen. Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr The kitchens of High Reaches Weyr are contemporary, spare and simple in design, free of clutter. The sleek surfaces are a hallmark of the current Pernese style - polished marble and granite, metalwork, and woods. The background colors of the kitchen are light and neutral, allowing for bold tone accessories to take center stage. The lighting and entryway opening treatments are low-profile and minimalist. The hearths have been fitted with modern equipment and simple, sleek metalwork to add an up-to-date touch to the heavily used areas. The polished granite counters are long and wide, allowing for ample work space. The woodwork is lightly stained, bringing out the natural hues in the grain. A simple cording, in the same bold color as the accessories, borders each cabinet door, accenting the room. Two large islands break up the kitchen into work areas: baking center, butchery, vegetable and side center, and the serving organization center. The floor is tiled with large marble squares, each section carrying a different, yet complimentary color to direct the flow of traffic. The entryway into the Living Cavern has been expanded to fit two doors - in and out - each marked with its own identifying color that matches the tiles just inside the doors, to keep collisions from occurring. The cavern itself has been expanded to include breakfast nooks, where residents can sit to eat, while leaving the main kitchen free from tables and the traffic that accompanies a busy Weyr. Contents: Tavrie Obvious exits: LIving Cavern Lower Caverns M'wen comes into the kitchen from the living cavern. M'wen has arrived. It's late afternoon at the 'Reaches, and the kitchens are busy with pre-dinner preparations. Kitchen workers bustle back and forth, pushing anyone that doesn't belong out of the way in their haste to see to their set duties. R'hin has claimed one of the corner nooks, out of the way, some hides spread across the surface, as well as a largely untouched bowl of casserole from lunch. A mug of juice is half drunk, the Weyrleader's head bent, concentrating intently on the hides, oblivious to the noise in the kitchen. An odd place to be working, certainly, but people seem to leave him largely alone. M'wen dodges a kitchen worker as he strides in from the Living cavern, running a quick glance up the nooks, before stopping with a small start at the sight of R'hin. Wasting no time, he walks quickly over, taking a seat across from the Weyrleader without waiting for an invitation. "Well well well, I thought you tried to avoid the kitchen and caverns at this time of day no?" he asks, without any indication that he noticed; or cared, about the possible intrusion. One of the people currently being shooed out of the way of the kitchen staff is a petite young woman with vibrant eyes and an exasperatingly cheeky grin. "Aaauntie," she whines in an exaggerated plea as the older woman gently herds her toward the nooks and out from under foot. "Jus' one and you be off!" the white haired lady scolds in a loving manner, looking stern and yet kind. Tavrie laughs like a child and holds out both hands for a freshly baked roll. Receiving it, she turns and hurries on her way, aided by a swat to her bottom. "By the dragons themselves," her aunt groans as she goes back to taking bread out of pans and placing it on racks to cool. Tavrie nibbles her prize and then halts, noting M'wen and an unfamiliar face before she bobs right over. "Mmmm'weeeen!" she greets him in high spirits, peering around at R'hin from behind the brownrider. She is much like her charges. A grin springs up, unbidden, as R'hin recognizes the voice without looking up. "Usually," he answers M'wen, "But I figured since that's what everyone thinks, it'd be the perfect hiding place. I should've known you know me better than that, wise man." The Weyrleader looks up, grin crooked, pale eyes amused as he adds, unnecessarily, "Join me, won't you?" The dry words offered as he pushes aside some of the hides to make more room. "Would you like some stew? It's a bit cold, but--" he gestures to the full bowl, before the approaching woman earns a twitch of brows, quizzical look directed to M'wen. "No, thank you though. I've gotten my own eating schedule after finding it better to avoid the crowds." M'wen answers, a cheerful grin plastered on his face. "I'm almost certain you didn't figure that and just arbitrarily decided to eat now." Hearing his name from behind him, and the expression on the Weyrleaders face, M'wen turns his head to glance behind him, despite the fact he already knows who it is. "Ahh, come join us Tavrie, three is company." the brownrider flashes her a friendly smile smile and slides along the bench, glancing to the spot beside him, offering her the seat. Tavrie blinks curiously at M'wen and then looks up and grins at M'wen in her usual roguish manner. "Hiya," she notes simply enough. When he slides over to make room for her, she plops right down cheerfully and scoots in. Then, the young woman nibbles at her roll and looks shyly down at her lap. Strands of straggly, dirty blonde hair that hang to just below her collar bone drop to shield her face like blinkers for a runner. This doesn't save her from R'hin's gaze, but it does from M'wen. R'hin's low-throated chuckle is good-natured, not bothering to deny the accusation leveled against him. "You'll ruin my reputation as insidious, if you persist." He sets a pile of hides atop another on the bench beside him, pale eyes flicking up, sudden interest lighting them as M'wen's words draw his attention back to Tavrie with another, more careful - perhaps uncomfortable - scrutiny. "Ah, so this is Tavrie?" he says, as if he's heard of her before. "Pleased to meet you," he says, pleasantly enough. "It's about time you tossed that reputation, I've been questioned on your puppy drowning practice." M'wen replies a small grin as he glances sideways across at Tavrie to see her reaction before he realizes he wouldn't be able to see it. The brownrider gives a small shrug and just grins to himself, shifting slightly on the bench to give the girl a bit more room. Hearing the question, he doesn't answer, gaze returned to Tavrie, letting her answer the question. Tavrie lowers the roll she's been trying to hide behind and lifts her head again. The hair falls back in place rather normally and she musters a more pleasant and less Cheshire grin for the new weyrleader. "Weyrleader," she offers respectfully with a little bob of her head. Coming around from a bout of shyness, she lifts energy-laced eyes of klah brown and cants her head to the side to inspect him in a bold and curious fashion. "Really?" R'hin perks up, seemingly pleased by M'wen's comment. "My reputation precedes me. Soon I won't be able to travel anywhere without an escort. Not that I really do, anyway." Wry tones, as he leans against the back of the bench, gaze shifting from one to the other. "Mm. She's quiet." The bland observation is directed at M'wen, but one could easily get the feeling it's deliberately done to provoke comment from the shy woman. "Really." M'wen confirms, a low chuckle escaping. "Some people will have trouble following one so 'cruel' to the cutest little canines." He offers an apologetic smile to Tavrie at R'hin's comment, though whether or not she notices it, he can't tell. "Probably more to protect others then yourself Weyrleader." For a moment, Tavrie just blinks at him in a dull manner. This soon gives way as she takes the seemingly proffered bait with gusto. "Well, one can't always be sure how they should react to people in places of authority, after all," she begins. Slowly, the countenance of her politely smiling and almost shy face slip away and that infamous and audacious grin appears. "I'm really not quiet at all, though I'd venture a guess that you are already well aware of this. If I've heard about you, then you must have heard at least a little about me and quiet, well, it's not a word that anyone I know would or ever has said about me," she rambles amiably before tearing off a chunk of her roll and popping it in her mouth. "Satiet certainly wouldn't accuse me of it. I seem to torture her in this very spot frequently," Tavrie tags on upon finishing her mouthful. "But," R'hin's earnest all of a sudden, "What use -are- canines? Felines, at least, help with vermin. Canines shed and slobber everywhere. Cuteness shouldn't come into it at all." Judging by the quirk of lips and the grin, he's being facetious. "Ah, yes. Very true, my friend, very true." Tavrie is viewed anew, with apparent delight now that she opens up, the bronzerider's hands clapping together. "Ah, she speaks! And with such gusto!" he says, approvingly. "I'm hardly your typical figure of authority, Tavrie, and-- you're torturing the lady of the spires! Oh, do tell!" He leans forward, anticipatory. "What use are some of the riders we have? Do you suggest we drown them too?" M'wen replies, returning with a facetious comment of his own. "Though it's probably for the best that you have a defense if someone confronts you on your habit." He has nothing further to say and turns to hear what Tavrie has to say, though his expression doesn't hold the same anticipatory edge of R'hin's. Tavrie's demeanor might be likened to a feline with a full belly that is now smugly resting by a hearth. The expression on her face is a mixture of coy and calculating as she evaluates his reaction to her revelation of character. "Ahh, I'm just a simple nanny," she begins. "But my love, nay, passion for warm bread often sees me in here and there she'll sit, trying to studiously accomplish something or nothing. It would seem that chatter happens naturally between us. I can be a little contrary, perhaps," the girl notes, looking up and away as if momentarily feigning innocence. Then, she shifts her eyes back to R'hin for a moment. "I think I tend to give M'wen less trouble," she admits with a guilty shrug before nibbling on her snack. "It's on the cards. Josilina might disagree, however." R'hin answers M'wen, tone bland, only the glint of eyes to suggest facetiousness. "Natural?" he echoes, "There is little about the lady of the spires that happens naturally, Tavrie. But... perhaps you see a side that M'wen and I don't?" he suggests it, but without too much belief. He grins, however, at the latter, elbow resting on the table top, propping his head up. "Ah. That's good. I give M'wen enough trouble, I think." A smile that is not in the least apologetic is directed towards the brownrider. "And somehow, Tavrie, I get the feeling you're anything but a 'simple' anything." "I'm afraid I have to concur with R'hin on Satiet and natural." M'wen adds, "It takes enough trouble to get a word out of her, and even then, it all seems cold and calculated." He shifts on the bench, resting his chin on a fist. "I wouldn't know the trouble you cause Satiet, but you don't cause me any trouble at all, so I'd assume your right on that account." The brownrider responds to Tavries comment, a soft smile given in her direction. "R'hin, I'll concede that I agree with you on this one." Tavrie gives a yawn, covering her mouth with a hand in an imitation of daintiness. The girl continues to look rather mischievous, shrugging once more. "I don't know, I think that through her icy front it is rather easy to hear what she's saying beneath the surface conversations we have. Perhaps, woman to woman she is more conversational," Tavrie offers. "Then again, many would disagree with you and find me of little importance or simply simple," she states matter-of-factly. "Therefore, lots of people have loose tongues with me and around me," the nanny confesses. "I don't tend to complain, nor am I the sort to gossip and share someone else's business," she tacks on, seeming to hint that no matter what she knows about Satiet or others, she isn't talking. R'hin's gaze is on M'wen, taking note of that smile, a twitch of lips given as the Weyrleader leans back. "A... womanly connection," R'hin says, amusement lingering in his voice, holding his hands up, palm facing the pair, "I know enough not to get anywhere near that." The palms press against the table top, bracing himself as he pushes up and begins collecting the hides. "I have a meeting. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tavrie. I hope we'll get the chance to talk again. M'wen," the latter is afforded a respectful nod, as the Weyrleader turns and paces off across the kitchen. You brush the hides aside and step into the lower caverns. |
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