Logs:Something to Like
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 13 October, 2014 |
| Who: Tayte, Z'riah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Z'riah happens upon Tayte. They chat. She promises knitted goods and other things. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 13, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Adult themes. Back-dated. |
  |
| Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr A passageway hewn into the rock and heavily patched with cement leads a short distance in to the bowl wall, with a door on either side. Lit by regularly spaced glows, the white-washed walls have been covered over by colorful tapestries, wall hangings and pieces of art made from metal and wood. To the left of the entranceway, just a single step inside, a spiral staircase opens out of the wall, leading upwards through the stone. Further down, a doorway opens to either side of the corridor, while at the far end, there is a hewn-stone staircase leading up to the residential quarters, wreathed by two final doors to private quarters and the bathing room. The door leading to the east opens into an expansive room that seems to provide both general working space - with long, bare benches and chairs - and a cozy lounge complete with over-stuffed sofas and a few fuzzy armchairs. Three tall windows are carved into the stone, and offer air and light when the heavy wooden shutters are left open, though the lounge area has to make do mostly with glows. A hearth at the back of the room provides both heat and basic cooking facilities. The white-washed walls are bedecked with decoration - from quilts, to tapestries, to wooden carvings and metal sculptures. The western door leads into another passage, off of which the main workrooms have been built. The loading dock is at the northern end, leading back out into the bowl, with the rest of the rooms leading deeper and deeper into the wall.
Maybe it's Tayte's not completely with it-ness that lets Z'riah fall into step nearby fairly easily. "You need a hand with that? I barely recognized you without the," he makes a gesture with his hand that's probably meant to mime a pregnant belly. "You're looking, well... tired, actually. But good." He's an honest guy. Women like that, right? Tayte stops, she blinks, she squints a little, "Do I know you?" Blonde brows are raised in inquiry. "No," says the greenrider, grinning, without missing a beat. "Not even a little. We met in the baths a while back. You were very-- let's say you left an impression on me." That's safe-ish. "Z'riah. Green Yizibeth's. And you are Tayte." In case she doesn't remember that, either. After looking at him for another moment with feigned blankness, Tayte relents, smirking. "Right, right, my very excellent lay in another two months. It's coming back to me now." She holds the caddy out for him to take. "As it happens, this is the look I prefer. Well, this with less bags under my eyes, but... in time. He'll sleep, in time." She resumes her casual stroll once she's sure he's coming along with her precious shower caddy. "How are you? And Yizibeth?" It takes Z'riah a few moments longer than it probably ought for him to realize that she was fucking with him. Or playing it off like she was, anyway. "Is it still two whole months away?" He tries to sound impatient but he mostly just ends up sounding amused. "It suits you." The look. Presumably with less bags under her eyes. "I'm doing okay. Yizibeth is settling in." Which probably reflects his own feelings on the transfer, truthfully. "Still," Tayte confirms, and it's her turn to sound amused. "If you last that long." She gives him a dubious look. Riders, they have a way of vanishing, you know! "If you think this suits me, wait until I'm sleeping a little more at night." Sadly, the things that keep her awake at night aren't the same sorts of things that would short him on sleep. "Is she having a difficult time of it?" Since it's been a month and she's still settling in, evidently. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it, I promise you." Z'riah isn't going anywhere if he has anything to say about it. Well, that's probably not true. But Tayte doesn't need to know that. He frowns when Tayte asks about Yizibeth, though. Maybe he'll have to be honest, after all. "She'd probably be better if I could stop thinking about home. But she's sensitive about that sort of thing." He shrugs. What do you do. "Oh, yes?" Tayte asks tilting her head a little and looking at him sidelong. "And what kind of things help you not think of home? Or better yet, what kinds of things would help you think of this as home?" "Those are good questions," Z'riah admits. "I'm usually pretty good at blocking her out. Kind of necessary sometimes." For reasons he doesn't explain right now. "If I don't go with the obvious, I'm not really sure what would help. Time, I guess." "Well, you could always find someone to shack up with and not come up for air until enough time has passed," Tayte suggests with amusement, though there's no sense that she has any interest in shacking up. "That would be the obvious thing," grins Z'riah. "There is someone. A couple someone's, I guess." That can't be very surprising. The greenrider is handsome enough. "But neither of them are probably interested in shacking up, as you say. But there's a weyrmate and it's complicated." Woe is Zif. "Poor thing," Tayte offers, but she still sounds amused. Perhaps that will be gentled by the fact that she angles her next step to bring her closer alongside the greenrider and takes the opportunity to slip one of her arms around his. "Then I suppose you'll just have to find some things to like about this place. Do you drink?" Z'riah is obliging of the arm she slips around his, quite content to escort her more intimately as they walk. "Earnestly," he answers with charm saturating both his grin and his voice. "I suppose you're right. There must be something to like about it." Excluding the woman on his arm. "When I moved here, it was mostly the frozen drinks." Tayte confides, smiling up at him. "That I liked. I came from Ista. I had to get a whole new wardrobe." She glances up at him, "Have you gotten warm things yet? That helps too, especially in winter." "I'm not that picky about what I drink." Is Z'riah really that picky about anything? That's probably a good question. "I haven't had a chance to get a completely new wardrobe, but I've picked up things here and there. The chill is hard to get used to. But I don't hate it. Makes people want to get all hot and bothered." "Well," Tayte says with a mischievous sort of smile, "you will be once I'm finished with you." There's warmth in her eyes as she looks at the greenrider. "Obviously no one's ever spoiled you." Poor thing. "What's your favorite color to wear?" This is likely unrelated to the alcohol and more related to the cold. "I'll knit you something. Not," she looks at him seriously now, "that I'd want to deter you from getting all hot and bothered." She infuses the phrase with a panting sort of breath and a teasing sultriness to her voice suggestive of her being in such a state. Z'riah's expression suggests that he likes the sound of that. "Probably a little unoriginal, but I'm pretty fond of green. I'm told blue goes pretty well with my eyes, though, too." He's probably been told, anyway, and not just decided it for himself. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the way she says the last of her words is kind of distracting to parts of his brain he'd rather ignore right now. "This is me," Tayte indicates the door they've arrived at and she leans in to at once kiss Z'riah's cheek and reclaim her shower caddy. "I'll see you soon," she says without giving him much time to react and pushes through the door to the greeting cry of "Mom!" lest he think of following. |
Leave A Comment