Logs:Sandalwood
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| RL Date: 8 June, 2011 |
| Who: Emmeline, Warucori |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hiding away at the baths (with escort!), Emmeline meets Warucori, who is adorably nice! |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| Needed to escape the barracks. That's nearly the only thing that Emmeline could credibly think about by the time dinner was over with. And soaking in the luxuriant baths (certainly by islander standards) was a treat that she wasn't going to pass up. So, led by an escort, the exiles young harper found herself soaking in one of the bathing pools, surrounded by fragrant steam. She has her head lolled back against the surrounding stone, and is otherwise completely submerged to ward off a chill. Her eyes are open at least, so she's not about to slip under for sleeping. Warucori comes strolling into the warm, steamy room letting out a huge sigh, "Oh this is so much better." A large basket swings from her hand as she wanders between the pools to find one with few people in it. That happens to be the one that Emmeline is in, "Hello there. Mind company?" The bluerider hasn't met many of the exiles, and this is a great excuse to see one up close. "Hmm?" Emmeline perks up a bit at the sound of a voice, looking up at Cori when the woman steps up towards the pool she's in. "Oh, I... ah, sure." SInce the heat and steam already make the thin-skinned exile pink as a beet, the instinctove modest reaction to flush should hopefully go unnoticed. "Water's... hot." Yeah, not so good at the conversation yet, so she clears her throat and tries again. "I'm Emmeline. Well met." "Oh good. Hotter the better. Been flying in the snow for hours." The basket flops to the floor by the pool with some weight behind it. "I'm Cori, Warucori." A big, friendly smile to Emmeline and her pink-ness. "A pleasure." In silence she peels out of her leathers and is quickly in the pool after tossing the leathers onto a dry bench out of splash-range. Once in the water she speaks again, "How do you find your accommodations?" Not loooooooooking. Emmeline is not looking. If anything, she closes her eyes for a moment, and with her head leaned back one might safely assume it's to be relaxed. "Cori. That's a nice name." The friendly smile begets one of her own, discomfort marginally decreasing. "You have to fly out in the snow? That sounds dangerous. And cold. Do they make you do this often?" While not quite sounding horrified, well, aghast might be a good word. "Accomodations?" Pause. "Oh, right! The, uhm... barracks. It's really different. There's real blankets and sheets and soft things to sleep on. It's almost like a dream we're all going to wake up from. Until we started getting sick anyway." Boo. Warucori isn't trying to cause discomfort, honest. Though from the playful smile, would a stranger know that? "Thank you. Oh, it wasn't snowing hard, but lots of snow on the ground. We fly every day and it's usually in some sort of weather. We dress warm enough for it. It's not so bad if you know you have this to look forward to." Stretching her long legs out in the warm water. Emmeline's reply is listened to with great interest, "Oh, I heard the food was making people sick, but they are feeding you different food right?" It's an exile thing, really. "Ohhhh. I guess that's true. This is such a treat to us. Hot water for bathing. We have to bathe in the river or heat up pots of hot water for a quick wash." Emme explains, in case the apparent obsession with being in this room ever comes into question. "But if you're used to it, then being out in the cold a short time wouldn't matter so much." As long as it's logical, it doesn't make her panic. That apparently is her key to decreased anxiety at the moment. "We only have seafood, and seaweed. And maybe a few kinds of berries or root vegetables. So it was too different for us. But, we've started having people... I.. some are dying .After fever and chills and sore throats. It's frightening." she admits, clamping her mouth shut after that, for having said qute so much to a complete stranger. Even a friendly one. "For what it's worth, it was like that back at my home too." Cori confesses, "Lots of cold baths or quick scrub-ups. This is much better." She looks uncertain, but only for a moment and then adds, "My home had a lot of mouths to feed and not much to feed them. When I came here? Oh goodness, I couldn't stop eatting." The twinkle in her eyes hints that she still eats more than your average young lady does and given her curves well, she's putting away the food. "You'll get used to it." It's more difficult to talk of more serious matters such as the loss of life, "Oh goodness. I had not heard that. People are...fevers? Do the healers know why?" "Really?" Even if it's only marginal, talking to someone who has an understanding of where they're coming from on certan things is kind of nice. "Yeah, it's like that too. The food, I mean. We've lost people from the lack of food before. Especially when there was thread." Now Emme can't help but smile, seeing a twinkle in the other girl's eye. It even makes her giggle for a second. "I expect once we can eat your food... that is, if we're allowed to stay." The unpleasant part of that last thought is replaced by more unpleasantness though. "I honestly don't know yet. It's been so busy. I look after the children as part of my... as the harper. Keeping them calm has left little time to try and find out what the healers are saying. But it's not good. Everyone is coming down with something it seems." Her voice has dropped to a near whisper by then, of course. Warucori frowns worriedly about the news of the sick and the illness, "That just not fair. First you fight to stay alive out there in the cold and then this here. I don't know what I'd be thinking. Hopefully it will pass soon with few people affected." She splashes water onto her face and then slips under the water to soak her hair back. Hands smooth over her face to brush water from her eyes and she smiles to Emmeline, "What did you think of the dragons? I only ask because, I was very sheltered growing up so when I came here...well, I was a bit 'backwoods'." Saying the word and then wincing, not sure the exile will understand what she means. "You're being so nice." Which shouldn't be a problem, right? But in this strange new world outside of the Island, 'others' are genrally not to be trusted, and this just twists Emmeline's insides all around trying to sort herself out. The battle clearly seen in shifting expressions of confusion and worry on her face. "Some of us are more suspicious then others. There's talk of it being the dragons that are killing us somehow. Or people doing it on purpose. That being away from the sea is making us sick, even. People don't know what to think and I don't know what to tell them. Shouldn't I know what to tell them?" Harper. Stories. GUILT! She drowns the sudden sensation by ducking under the water as well, and when she rises and pushes her hair back away from her face the rather angry red and wrinkled scar from the burn all down her left arm can be seen. Something she hides right under the water again without thinking. "I think they're kind of fascinating, actually. But I don't know much. I mean, they... think, right? And they're so huge. What's it like? Can you really hear what they say?" Warucori is quiet as she listens, nodding her head, looking truely sympathetic. There isn't much surprise about people being told dragons were hurting people, just a sad look and a nod of her head, wanting to add her viewpoint but holding back. Instead she suggests, "You could ask our harper to let you have some balads to read the children. They're nice and explain a lot. The children can sing songs. Or maybe you already do that....do you?" She turns to the basket and takes out a jar with sweetsand and some scrubbing clothes, the sweetsand has a rich sandalwood scent as the woman makes a lather of it, "I can only hear Zaxameth, he's my lifemate. But he tells me what other dragons say to him. So, it's like having someone whispering gossip in the back of your ear." At least to Cori. "I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to say." Emmeline points out, seeing the sad look. "I do sing them some ballads, yes. But only what my great grandmother left in her songbook. It's been passed down through the women in the family. Just like the rest of the knowledge she had. But, she only had what she could remember, and write down for us. I would like to speak to the harper. A, ah, a real harper I guess." Her smile, while rueful, is genuine. But it's the smell of sandalwood that /really/ catches her attention next and her eyes zone in on it immediately. "Do all the jars smell of different things?" Breathing in that scent seems to be quite a treat for her. "Zaxameth. I will try to remember the name. So you do hear /your/ dragon. Amazing. What can they do? I mean, besides fight thread. That's what I read, that they fight thread. There were no stories of making people sick, though. Or anything bad, really. But I think that comes from how our ancestors were taken to the Island." "One of the exiles, he did not give his name, one of the bearded ones, said some of you think dragons are seamonsters. I think, maybe, you could teach the children balads about dragons. They might hear how dragons protect people, no matter what, even risking themselves to burn up thread, it could ease their minds. Might not help with being sick, but a sick person might like a story." Cori grins and offers out one of the scrubby pads with a good amount of the sweetsand on it. Demonstrating how to lather it up and then apply. "Dragons are wonderful and each one is different, like people, but with very bad memories. They live in the moment, it's refreshing, not to have the past boggle things up, ya know? My father told me dragonriders were evil and dragons were a bane. The only way to learn different is to see them up close. Hard to do when you're locked up though. But when you are allowed out." Because they have to come out sometime right? Emmeline sighs at the seamonster story, scrubbing at the bridge of her nose in frustration. "That is true. Some people do think it. Despite what they've ben told now and in the past." she agrees, taking this scrubby pad thing in her hands and scratching at it experimentally, then holding it up to her face to inhale the scent again. She only peripherally winds up watching how Cori lathers the thing up, but seems to manage nominally well. "Maybe you should come in and talk to people too. You seem real nice. It might help." she murmurs, but also nods at the suggestion of children's ballads. "I will ask for them, I promise." Seeing dragons up close, eh? That earns a thoughtful look while she applies the srubby thing to her arm, a surprised expression at how it feels against the skin. "Some will not want to learn anything different, I fear. But for those who will, hopefully we will be allowed out soon." Warucori looks very uncertain, "Oooh, I don't know. I only got a couple groups of exiles off the island because I couldn't bring myself to strong arm anyone." Such a softy. "Think they'd take me serious?" A nod for those who don't want to learn, "Those people are all over, not just on your island. Sadly. But if you don't grow, what can you do? Can't grow roots or flower." There's no helping the big smile Emmeline gets for enjoying the bath soap, "To answer your other question, not all jars smell so nice, but jars of sweetsand have lots of scents. That's what this is. Sweetsand." She too uses the sand on her face and neck, arms and legs slowly and with much enjoyment at being squeaky clean. "I have a few books of balads from when I was learning to read and write." Yeah, she learned real late in life. "There're more then enough people with strong personalities that are paying a visit." Emme assures, her tone as dry as the room is humid. "I think someone with a softer touch might help ease the minds of those who don't react well to more abrasive riders." There's a pause there though, while she considers. "But it might be good to have someone who will take over if the naysayers get to be too much for you." And well, it's a relief to know that stubborness doesn't just exist on the island! "Yes, that's it exactly. It's good to grow." Still fascinated by the texture of the scrubbing thing, the harper tries rubbing her shoulders with it, then the back of her neck. Amazing how such a smal thing can brighten up the day of an exile, right? "Maybe we could use those, if you would lend them to me. I promise that I will return them. And if we're taken back to the Island I will make sure I leave them for you so they aren't lost." Warucori hms softly, "Maybe so. I could always bring backup right? When we have candidates....that is, people who are...." she frowns at trying to explain the whole affair of candidates and hatchings, "Um, people who the dragons think would make good matches for baby dragons. These people come from all over and lots of them are just like you and the other exiles." The grin says that they are an extreme example but she continues on, "We let them touch the dragons and on sunny days, we wash the dragons in the lake and it's fun. I wish we could do that." Ease some of the tension too. As to lending the books, she nods agreeable, "I don't mind giving them. If you return to the island, you might want to have something new to read. New stories to tell." THat don't make dragons out to be so scary. Emmeline nods at first, to the question of backup. And she sems about to add something when talk turns to another new concept; that of candidates and baby dragons. SHe doesn't seem to take any offense at their group being an extreme example of anything, but instead is just fascinated by this tale of what they do with "candidates" and dragons. "Books are my most precious posessions, Warucori. I would feel too guilty to take them from someone else. But, maybe I can copy them out." Something to think about. But, it seems all of this new information and excitement has tired the poor girl right out again and she suddenly yawns; swaying, even in the water. "Wow. Sure was nice to meet you. But I should go before I fall asleep right in the bath." she murmurs, apologetic, before putting down the scrubby and then climbing out of the bath so she can get ready to go back to the barracks. She gives a last wave, and a smile, before leaving. |
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