Logs:Positive Reinforcement
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| RL Date: 29 October, 2014 |
| Who: Lycinea, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi comes to ask Lya if she actually wants a chaperone on the beach trip that Lya doesn't know is happening. |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 2, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, V'ros/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup. The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes. It's depressing really. Dutiful Lya being Dutiful. There's less sass, less 'tude, less talking back. On the flip side, there's more pay she gets to keep, less scowls and spoon-shots from Vesra and Gamil and the others in the kitchen, but is that any way to live? Having just finished the latest in her string of was-on-time-for and worked-all-the-way-through shifts in the kitchen, Lycinea arrives, as is habit, to make her attempt to get the smell of the latest meal out of her hair. It's later, as she's sudsing that hair, that there's a swing of a blonde ponytail-- not meal-smelling, not even draconic-meal-smelling-- and an upside down Telavi-face peering at Lya's face. "Good, you're still here! It took forever," or seemed like it, "but I have a question." Hello! Lya jumps (of course she does), hands coming out of her hair and twisting to look up at Telavi in the instinctive reaction of one whose had bad experiences with people sneaking up on them, in Lya's case, this involves a jerk forward away from the wall and a twist to look up at the greenrider. Briefly, her expression betrays the extent of just how unnerved she becomes in that moment, even though it's just Tela. She breathes out and the expression clears. "Yeah?" It's not even a cheerful response, though that may be the shock as much as the Boring Lya who's come to inhabit Usually Delightful Lya's body in the wake of the storm. Oops. That's not the sort of reaction Tela was looking for, and it shows in the wider eyes and nipped-on lip. "Are you okay?" she asks, staying in her crouch but swaying back enough that she's not peering over Lya anymore. "It can wait. If you were lounging... nothing like lounging after a long day." "I wasn't lounging," perhaps it was the shock, or maybe Dutiful Lya is also Grouchy Lya, for her hands return to lathering her hair and she says quite obviously, "I'm washing my hair." This is followed by asking blandly, "What's your question?" The ripple of Tela's shrug blurs lounging and lathering right up, though her brows have momentarily lifted just a jot. "The V'ros thing? Are you sure you want company?" At least she doesn't, in any way whatsoever, make it company. Lya's brows pull down in some sort of confusion before she's tilting her head a little, presumably to get a better scrub as she's doing now. "What V'ros thing?" Then suddenly, and a smidge brighter, "Oh hey, I was going to ask you if you know of any... stuff that's good for getting off make up? That's less, you know--" She holds up the handful of soapsand. Gritty. She probably means gritty. Telavi makes a pained noise; she just can't help it. Off she goes on a tangent of lotions and potions for that very task, much less gritty and much more effective for delicate skin, though at least she attempts to keep it brief for the relative novice. The novice does a lot of small nodding, brows now furrowed in concentration as if making the attempt to memorize everything she's being told. "If I got the marks, would you take me to a gather where we could get some?" This is perhaps the wiser recourse since there's no way Lycinea's going to remember all that much less know the difference between which lotions she needs, and which ones the vendor can talk her into out of her own ignorance. "I... yes, or a sevenday-market I know," Telavi assures. "Though really, the stores have some once you know what to look for, it's just if you can't abide something in the ingredients or the smell," and have the extra wherewithal to make up the difference. "Or want something 'specialty,'" complete with her nose tilted just so in the air, "or an excuse or... oh! That reminds me. Who do you think would be good at teaching a completely un-baker-ly greenrider how to make," not 'bake,' "a pie?" Working in the kitchen, Lya has the answer. She rattles off a few names and explanations. She avoids the Weyrbaker, but a couple of the apprentices are promising and kind and might see it as a sort of practice of their skills, make or bake, but then there's also that one kitchen aide who never apprenticed but is always helping out with that kind of thing. He's a suck-up, but with a little ego-stroking would surely show Telavi what she needs to know. "I don't need anything special. Just something that doesn't sting. Although, maybe something with a scent would be nicer. I always have trouble getting the smell of the kitchen out of my hair." She chews her lower lip, something going unsaid there, but then she's dunking to rinse out the lather. Tela's naturally appreciative, asking the odd question as to angle or attitude here and there, but not delaying; as it happens, she does keep withe the hair question, waiting with a practiced air until Lya's reemerged to say, "... Your hair?" Perhaps it's patience; perhaps it's that she hasn't yet managed to get the wrinkle out of her nose at the very thought. "Yeah. It always smells like things. Only not like, fresh things, but like food that's sat out all day things. I don't know why, because it's not like it has," usually, "but that's just how it goes. Everyday. If there was one thing that made me want to change jobs before the storm ever hit Tillek, it was that." Presumably, now Lya has a different reason for wanting a different job? Or doesn't want a different job. "The sand helps, but it doesn't fix it. And I don't have anything fancy." There's a pause as she considers; maybe that's now added to her mental wish list. "Ew." Telavi feels Lya's pain. "I got awful things in my hair as a weyrling, just awful. Have you tried... vinegar? Not the cooking kind, or at least not the good cooking kind, but the plainer kind that nobody's going to miss?" She shudders. But, "So it's... worse being a cook now? Since the storm I mean?" Multiple options, pick one to start with! With that, Tela finally steals a towel and, once she's sat down on it, starts unlacing her low boots. "It's not actual stuff," Lya clarifies. "It's just this smell that is there all the time." Maybe it's just stuck up her nose, but no, she's probably smelt it on her clothes too. The look she gives Tela then is confused, "No? I don't think? I don't know though, I guess you could ask Gamil or one of the cooks," since she's not a cook and that line is very defined in a kitchen. Which is worse? Actual stuff that washes out eventually, or not-stuff smell that stays? Telavi could contemplate that for longer, but there are her now-bare feet to stick in the water, at least once she's scooted over enough that it's unlikely to get into Lya's space. Also, with a wave of her hand, "Kitchen helper person who helps," that again, "make sure we don't all starve over dirty dishes and a floor carpeted with crumbs." "What?" Now Lya is just lost and squinting at Telavi. "Never mind," Tela says brightly. "So! V'ros? Beach?" Doubly confused. Lya's nose is even wrinkled up now, though her lips have pulled tighter (but tighter and flat-ish, not the usual duckface). "What?" "V'ros," Telavi explains, dabbling her toes in and out of the water before finally sinking them ankle-deep, "wants us to go to the beach. Sort of. That's the translation if he were more definite about these sorts of things." Is Lya getting this? If not, she'll stop. If so... "About anyth-- really, though, the point is that if you want to visit with him on your own? You should say so, so you two can just go, it's not like he's invited me on a social excursion before." "What?" Because asking again is going to help. Only this time, it leads to a roll of Lya's eyes. "I told him to forget about it. He didn't want to go," which doesn't (yet) answer Telavi's inquiry. "And I don't want to twist someone's arm to go to the beach. I can just ask you to take me maybe or H'vier," only that causes her to pause and chew on her lower lip. "Well," Tela says after a pfft for H'vier, "Apparently he," V'ros, "didn't forget about it. How long ago did you ask him about it, anyway?" How long is V'ros' memory, for real? "I dunno, a bit ago. Beginning of the month, maybe?" Perhaps V'ros' is better than Lya's. "I don't get it. He doesn't want to go. Why would he--?" Go to Telavi and tell her they were going? Now there's a duckface. Just for V'ros. "--Want to go somewhere warm, and nice, with no snow, and no ice--" that rhymed! Telavi Not-a-Harper smiles-- "that we can bring a snowball to and watch it melt? And bask in the sun and not get a sunburn because we know better than to stay in the sun too long," right? right?! "I can't imagine why someone would want to do that." "No, you don't understand." Lya's frowning. "He got mad at me for asking to go again because people died in the storm and I told him we were both in funks and needed a change." She sighs. "You can come if you want. But we're not going. I'm not anyway." "But it's been sevens," Telavi notes, sinking her feet deeper so her toes can splash without actually... splashing. "I'm not going to go with him just-us because that would be strange and also, not fun. But I'm also not going to have you write him a note or even just say something so I can pass it along to him, because that would be like we're twelve." Or ten. Or fourteen. Or... "You know, though, Lya. Sometimes," Tela breathes this as a secret, "it is possible that boys, every now and again," and possibly not just boys, "get mad about a perfectly reasonable idea and then actually rethink it and become okay with it once they aren't on the spot and all 'emotionalizing,'" air quotes! "anymore. So if you don't go, you aren't rewarding him for better behavior. So he probably isn't going to learn as well. But, if you really don't want to go because you changed your mind and don't think it would be fun to go there or to go with him or whatever, you have better things to do, then don't go anyway because he's not your job. It's not like you're his," no pause, just about anyway, though Telavi does seem to find her underwater toes fascinating before she glances back at Lya, "social skills acquisition specialist." This ramble gives the younger girl cause to squint at the older one again. "So you're saying I have to go unless I want to stunt his social development even more than it obviously already is?" There's a touch of the ol' Lya sass. Not much, but a touch. That gets rewarded with a dimple. "You could interpret it that way," Telavi says airily, "but again, really, really not your problem." Pretty soon, not even Quinlys' anymore! "Fine." Lya sighs. "I'll go." Talk about being guilted into something! To top it off, Telavi then underscores, "You don't have to go. I'm not going to make you lounge somewhere warm and nice where," she whispers the next part, "your bosses won't see you lounging-- and it was your idea to begin with." With that, Tela leans back and admires the ceiling... and smiles. |
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