Logs:Olly Picks A Candidate
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| RL Date: 19 February, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys' dinner is interrupted by Olveraeth's desire for a candidate. Alida gets lucky. |
| Where: Living Caverns / Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
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| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. It's well past the normal dinner hour, but with so many staggered schedules, there are still plenty of people around, enjoying a late meal safe in the warm. Quinlys is one such person, lazing back in her chair with one foot hooked around another, eating stew in lazy bites, and every so often dunking her bread into the gravy. She's not alone at her table, but it's also far from full, but her attention seems more regularly drawn to the table behind hers, where a group of teenagers are enjoying their meal in good spirits. Her foot twitches. Her mouth twitches. Alida is one of those who appears not to be on the traditional day shift, the cordless, badgeless woman padding into the cavern on heavily booted, yet light feet. A few errant flakes of leftover snow either shed or melt off of her heavy coat as the palest-blonde moves with almost military cadence towards the hearth, her cold-reddened features finally shown after she opens that coat and pulls down her voluminous hood. Green eyes cast about lazily, taking in the whos and whats of the place this night. Those teenagers laugh, loudly, and Quinlys turns away, rather as though she needs to force herself to concentrate on her meal instead of on-- what? Being annoyed at them? Or is it more that she wishes she could join them? It's not easy to tell from her expression, which is largely impassive, and now, more than ever, focused upon dinner. She pauses, reaching to pick up her mug, swirling the dark liquid in it before she lifts it to her mouth to sip. Unlike Quinlys, Alida has no such want to join those gabbling kids ovefr yonder for any reason, the guard looking outright annoyed as the chatter of the weyrbrats grates on her once-quiet nerves. This is a public place, though, and since she needs an infusion of klah to both warm and boost her, the woman must put up with the small ruckus, her form now actually near to hurrying over to the simmering pot suspended over the fire. Along the way, she passes close by the table the bluerider shares with some other folk, Quinlys gets a quick looksee in a rake of those cool, incisive green eyes over her form. Quinlys does not pay any particular attention to the blonde woman as she passes-- or, at least, not immediately. No, she lets the guard pass entirely unmolested for some time, and then? "Oh for fuck's sake, Olly. I'm trying-- now?" There's something unfocused about her expression, something strange. A moment later, she's half out of her chair, spinning around on her heel. "We're doing this thing, then. Fine." Louder, her voice pitched to carry, "Anyone between fifteen and twenty-five, or thereabouts, who is not a Candidate needs to come outside with me. Please. So that I can finish my dinner before it gets completely cold." Coming to a stop before the kettle over the fire, Alida lifts her snagged-up cup and ladels some delicious, nutritious liquid energy into the metal thing, moving to add some sweetener and a bit of cocoa to it for a delicious treat on this cold evening. Lips purse to blow on the surface of the dark, steaming draught...and pause in that action as Quinlys starts barking aloud her wish to the cavern at large...'lida simply eyeballing the bluerider as if she's yet another one of those irritations. "Fucking shards 'n shells... I'm *so* outta' here..." the guard grumbles to herself, having had enough of the noise now that she's got her goods. While Quinlys speaks to the caverns folk about doing this so she an finish her dinner, Alida is using one hand to pull up her hood then jerk her coat tight about her torso...and getting the hell out of Dodge by fleeing everything human...right out into the Bowl. Looks like it's going to be the Galleries for her again, if they're quiet. Of course, Quinlys is also headed for the bowl, now-- with that group of teenagers in tow, and there's no escape for Alida, either: "You there. You, too." There's something authoritative in her voice, and, well-- the knot on her shoulder? It's fancy enough that it rather looks like she's got the rank to backup her demands. The teenagers seem excited; most of them are crafters, from the looks of their knots, and this? They know what this is. Over her shoulder, to Quinlys, is grumped, "Lady, I've had a long day. Sorry ta' drink and flee..." This is one of the few things that could ever cause Alida to retreat - her tiredness and irritation quite obvious, by now as her steps become more rapid...the klah threatening to slosh out of her cup. Out into the Bowl the guard fords, irregardless of knot sizes, chill, snow, or whatever. Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north. Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. Brilliant light plays off of the dunes of snow as a cloudless winter day brings with it extreme cold. "No," says Quinlys, hastening her steps so that she can lunge after Alida, grabbing for her arm. The apprentices are all staring gobsmacked at this display; they can't seem to make up their minds whether to stare at the bluerider or at Alida, most of them, shifting between the two as the shorter woman attempts to stake her claim. "I need you to. No way are you getting out of this. My dinner is getting cold, too, and believe me, I've had a worse day than you." She doesn't even have a coat on, and now that they're outdoors, she's shivering. But there's a blue dragon, waiting there, eyes whirling faster and faster still. And if Quinlys can't stop Alida? Olveraeth can. It's that grab for her that has Alida suddenly pivoting around - the cup of klah in her hand dropped into the snow - the guard half-way through a martial move that would most likely knock Quinlys' hand from her arm and send the bluerider back a step...until she employs that 'safety' switch Turns of training has placed in her hind brain. This 'switch' short-circuits the completion of that move, and instead, the suddenly clench-jawed and hard-eyed blonde finds herself rumbling in too-reasonable of a voice to the other femme, "I'll allow you a free one this once. I'm advising you now to remove that hand from me..." Or what? Quinlys may be short, but she's strong, and even as Alida reacts, the bluerider seems to be positioning herself to react, though she drops the stance when Alida does. "Or what?" she asks, mildly, her brows raised-- though she does pull her hand away. At the same time, however, Olveraeth is stepping forward, leaning his head forward towards the blonde, his eyes whirling faster still. "Oh no," says Quinlys. "No." "Or I'm gonna have ta take what's mine back..." Alida finishes up in the same tones as before, the guard then stiffly lowering her arm down to her side once more when it's freed. A sudden memory inspires a look down at the snow beneath their feet, which shows 'lida's dumped klah cup, and inspires the perhaps contrary blonde into looking up into Quinlys' face to smirk at her. "On second thought..." the woman grins out none-too-cheerily, even as she pivots about to stalk right back in towards the living cavern. It's at this junction that the femme's sense of danger prickles at the back of her neck, and such sends her suddenly pitching forward into the thick snow in a controlled roll which takes her many feet from the rider who she thinks is somehow threatening her. "For fuck's sake, he's not going to hurt you," yells the bluerider, much to the laughter of the teenage boys, who are still watching, shivering in the cold evening. Olveraeth withdraws, slightly, apparently perturbed by Alida's reaction... though he also turns to glance at Quinlys, giving her what can only be described as a meaningful glance. "He wants you to Stand for the clutches, that's all. He grabbed everyone out here for you, you stupid girl. What did you think? Were were trying to hurt you? What do they teach people in bumfuck nowhere?" Her irritation is loud, and impressive. The look on Alida's features as she rises in a flurry of snow, coat, and a shimmer of steel at her hip already partially drawn...is not comical, but dead serious...that is, until squarely sees that a blue dragon is peering at her, kids are chuckling at her, and Quinlys is more vexed than anything else. Blink. And then the war-ready, serious guard is focusing on the rider's face, her mouth as she again speaks...and shocks the Pars female near-utterly, 'lida finally recovering to jerk her head around at the gaggles of weyrbrats and bark at them in drill instructor tones, "Shuddup, you snot-nosed pukes, or my toes'll be inserted so far up yer rectums that your Healer'll have ta' pry them out come Springtime!" Right up to the throng the palest-blonde surges, and the look in her eyes, on her features lets them all know she means business. Finally, over her shoulder to the blue pair is grumbled, "I think your dragon has the wrong human." No, she doesn't believe it. Not a single bit. "And you cannot wear that--" Quinlys waves a hand in the direction of Alida's weapon, "inside the Weyr. It's against the rules, and I'm surprised no one has kicked you out yet, frankly." In fact, she looks absolutely wretched about this thing she's just proposed-- or, rather, that her dragon has just proposed. The apprentices? They pull back, going sharply silent. "No, he doesn't. Whether I think I should actually offer you this, though-- that's another question. But frankly, at this point? You're running out of options. With this behavior, you're on track to get kicked out of this place, right now. Or you can accept my offer, hand over the weapon, and Stand for Iesaryth and Hraedhyth's clutches." The idea that Quinlys is playing some kind of a very bad joke on Alida is still apparent in her eyes, in the suddenly guarded cast of her features, but for now, at least she's listening. "I... I'm working for...someone. They'll back up my actions here." She sounds both certain and uncertain by Turns, green eyes flicking up at the blue, then down to Quinlys again while the guard steps away from the kids. A few moments has a very adult, quite cool look flooding the Pars guard's features. "We'll take this up with my employer, then." What? "I don't care who you're working for," says Quinlys, managing to rein in her own temper in order to talk relatively normally. "Weapons aren't allowed in the Weyr - not anything bigger than a belt knife, not unless you're training. Especially not if you don't even live here. How would you feel, if outsiders started threatening people back home at Pars?" She aims a glance at Olveraeth, who remains where he is, quite stationary. "Unless you have permission from the Weyrwomen, the weapon goes. If your business is complete, you go. Or," and she's quite serious with this, "You can stay, and Stand. But you still can't carry a weapon." She's pretty insistent on that front. "My name's Quinlys. I'm the Weyrlingmaster." "HE'LL fucking care..." Alida notes in cool tones to riposte Quinlys, the guard keeping her own temper in check. Drawing slowly, and open-handedly closerf to the bluerider, the young woman attempts to murmur to her, "One of your weyrwomen saw me so armed. She didn't appear to have a problem with it. And I can't just..." Believe someone's trying to Search her. "...abandon my duties to L...my employer. I *have* to ask them." Frown. "You *can* understand that, can't you?" Loyalty and words given. Quinlys is shivering, now, but doing her best to conceal it, with a straight-backed stance and squared shoulders. "Of course I can," she says, edging on dismissive. "I have duties to my employer, too. Your employer's back at Pars? I'll take you there. You can decide whether you want to go home, or come back with me and Stand for the clutches." She's quite calm about that, except for the way she keeps glancing at her blue. "He wants you for them. Me, I can take you or leave you, but my Olly, he's got a bee in his bonnet. Well?" "I got two uv' 'em..." Alida grouses softly to Quinlys. "One here, t'other back at Pars. This one ranks Pars, so him first." A long look up, up at the blue dragon leads into an expression that might be more well-suited to a world-weary seven Turn old, not a hardened 20-something...compounded of some wonder and awe, a good dollop of concern...and some odd wariness and pain. For just a moment, one hand is carefully extended up and out, seeking to try and perhaps touch 'Olly's' nose. "Two," says Quinlys, mildly, her expression showing no indication of whether she finds that in any way interesting or unusual. Something does shift as the younger woman approaches Olveraeth, though, and though she's wary, she can't seem to help the sudden warmth that shows itself in her smile. Olveraeth, for his part, drops his nose towards Alida, huffing warm breath in her direction. "He really does like you," she says. "No idea what he sees, how any of it works. Just that it does. Sometimes. Where do we need to go, to talk to this boss of yours? Or should I let you go, and then you can come find me when you're ready to talk to Pars?" The look of almost all wonder on the features of someone who appears to hold more Turns than they do might be a wonder in itself, and when Olveraeth huffs his breath on Alida... well, the hardened woman grins hugely, having to stifle a soft giggle. "Don't worry, handsome; I got it instilled in me good not ta harm a dragon." A wink at the towering blue presages the femme's look over to Quinlys, and a low alto, "Yeah, that'd be good. Lemme see if I can take care uv stuff here first on my own." Independent she is. "Then I'll seek you out for the trip." A sudden widening of eyes presages a leap of the blonde's heart at the thought: I'm going to get to ride. a. dragon. Quinlys can't read minds, but really, does a person need to, with eyes that wide? She grins, suddenly losing even more of her attitude in the face of this development. "You sure are," she agrees. "He says he'd never hurt you, or anyone, and that he's glad to know you'd never hurt him. And he says you're prettier when you smile. What's your name? I'll need to know for the records... and I don't like hanging out with people whose names I don't know. It doesn't seem fair." A look of some small surprised flits over Alida's mobile features at what Quinlys has to say, and she finally turns to face the rider fully, the guard apparently either too floored or very trusting of having umpteen thousand tons of dragon at her back. To the bluerider: "He knew? I mean, what I was thinking?" Oh shells, this kiddie behavior is so unbecoming to an adult! And in a sudden moment of realization, 'lida internally slaps herself, and dons her more typical mask of (truly) competent adult. "Alida." As far hanging out with people... well, a faint wrinkle of nose greets that idea, but still, it can't dampen the young woman's inner enthusiasm, seen in the glinting of deep green eyes. "He knows a lot of things," says Quinlys, pride so-obvious in her expression - pride, and clear, visible adoration for the blue. "His full name's Olveraeth, but I mostly call him Olly. Pretty much since he hatched, really. It's nice to meet you, Alida." She hesitates, studying the other woman for some long seconds before she says, "I have to warn you, ahead of time. If you go ahead with this, and be a Candidate, there'll be rules. Things like... no fighting. Showing respect. If you break those rules, there will be consequences, and that could include not being allowed to Stand. You get what I mean? You need to behave. You don't have to be social, but you need to be polite." Listening to Quinlys quite intently, Alida can't help but chortle some as the other woman fills with pride in her lifemate...who receives another rather fond look over the guard's shoulder for a long moment. Back to the rider is noted, "I can do polite pretty well, overall. Rules too...'r I wouldn't be a guard." A soft sigh coincides with a look at her scabbarded sword at one hip, and the blonde murmurs mostly to herself, "Ain't been without it fer 5 years." Yes, it *will* definietly feel odd to be sans porcine-sticker...but the woman's up to it, as her determined features opulently speak. "Er...well met, Quinlys...*and* Olveraeth," she adds on, spinning around on a bootheel to give a quick little bow to the blue - winking at him - then returning to her former position to address the other human again. "I'll be getting along, then. Got things t'do. If it's too late after I get done t'night, I'll contact you about Pars tomorrow." Olveraeth's huff, as Alida bows at him, has got to be amused, for all that it's hard to tell emotions simply from a breath of air. There's just something about it. Quinlys, too, smiles-- she seems genuinely approving for Alida's reaction, especially for her blue. "Good," she says, firmly. "That's good. We don't want to lose candidates-- we just have to make things clear." Her teeth are chattering, and there are still those crafter boys, so after that, she simply nods. "That sounds good. Ask any rider, if you need help finding me, but I'll probably be down at the Weyrling Barracks most of the afternoon. Have a good night, Alida." 'Ya big goof...' Alida only mouths up at the amused blue dragon before turning to his rider and listening quietly. That cast of a more hardened adult slowly returns to her features as some time passes - though hints of gleams behind her eyes are opulent - and once the chattering Quinlys dismisses her, the coat-wearing holder murmurs back an easy, "Will do. G'deve, Weyrlingmaster. Clear skies..." then flicking a jaunty, if half-assed salute with two fingers to brow at the blue behind them. And off she trudges...not towards where a certain man and his family dwell at this time, but for the cavern, and that damned klah she so desperately wanted. She's got priorities, after all. And Quinlys? She ushers the apprentices back indoors, and heads back to her cooling dinner. It's cold... and they're out of luck. |
Comments
Ainslee (Castandcrew (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 20 Feb 2013 13:58:45 GMT.
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I'm such a Quinlys fangirl, after this scene. SO much <3. XD
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