Logs:Stores Run-In
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| RL Date: 9 June, 2013 |
| Who: Tayte, Jo |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: As Jo predicted, Tayte and Jo run into each other again. The next meeting is planned. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 13, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Rumbles and flashes of lightning intersperse between the periodic fall of snow throughout the day. There is humidity in the otherwise cold air. |
| Mentions: Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Played via gdocs (a little backdated). |
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| Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr Massive in scale, the Weyr's main storage passage connects to the kitchen on one end and the outbound tunnel on the other. Large enough to admit a wagon laden with goods, the tunnel easily permits the unloading and organization of supplies into the various storerooms. Branching off from this corridor are multiple caverns, the nearer two being 'open' stores from which residents can readily help themselves, while the deeper stores are kept locked up tight with a posted sign and inventory hung on a hook outside of each. An alcove next to the public stores serves as a catch-all area for reshelving items whose destination is uncertain; two sets of stone shelving and several bins hold these items neatly until a stores assistant has a moment to deal with them. Though the storage caverns vary in size, shape, and the smoothness of their walls, all belong to the same system: whitewashed walls, swept floors, and most importantly, neatly labeled and inventoried shelves providing ample space to stow all the supplies a busy Weyr needs. Though there's no direct internal lighting, a glowbasket may be brought in from the niche outside each cavern, the better to ward off pests and the inky dark of deep caves.
Winter seems to be Jo's weather, even though most would hardly be able to tell. Case in point, with her walking in the stores, she's decked out in her black leathers from head to toe, almost as if she has nothing else to wear in her wardrobe. Her hair's its usual mussed-up appearance and her heavy booted footfalls could probably be heard before one can actually spot her. In the process of unfastening down the front of her jacket, the bluerider is already grabbing at various knickknacks she's coming across until Tayte's familiar form has her stopping before bowling the woman over. "Oh hey, darlin'," comes her quick greeting, stepping from behind her as she dumps her acquired things into little box she was carrying. She sets the box to the ground before checking what Tayte was studying, even though she does ask, "Whatcha lookin' at?" So lost in thought was she that the bootfalls weren't noticed, the approaching form missed, so the sudden not-bowled-over but close proximity and voice have her jerking in surprise, reflexes swift to pivot her about even as her weight sinks into a studier stance - a fighting stance. Her hair doesn't stand on end or anything, but her expression bears all the marks of one who doesn't love being surprised and it takes her a breath before she's straightening, blinking her ocean blues at Jo and letting the breath out audibly. "You know, when you said until we ran into each other, I didn't think you meant literally." The blonde's alto is perfectly unrattled, smooth and calm as ever. Then, again as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred (and maybe it hasn't, really), she's turning back toward the bedframes. "New furniture. Beds, specifically. My room is rather large, but came furnished with only a cot. I've gotten a few things, but I'm thinking now that it's colder, some company might be nice and a cot is hardly conducive." She's eying the grouping of frame speculatively, "They all look rather squeaky, don't you think?" When Tayte turns the way she does with that fighting stance, Jo takes a step back with a hand going up along with a jaunty, "Whoa! Easy there, darlin'. Didn' see ya back there with all the stuff, here." But she steps up when the blonde turns towards the beds, her gaze more on the woman than the beds at first, then a brow lifts at her choice of words. "Company?" she echoes that one as she steps to Tayte's side, eyeing the beds, too. "Thought a girl like ya that enjoys bein' hard to get would be more down there-" she gestures down the left '-towards where all the heavy furs and sheets would be. "Pile all that on any bed and ya'll be warm the whole night through." There's a little lopsided grin in place as she says all that, only to answer the last with a wry, "What, don' like yer neighbors knowin' when ya got...company?" "Down there?" Her blue eyes follow to where the Jo means. "Oh, oh, yes. Of course, why didn't I think of that? Silly me. Thank you so much for setting me to rights, Jo. I figured you of all people would want me snug as a bug in a rug all on my lonesome." Because, really, who talks potential lays out of getting big comfortable beds? Fortunately, it's all said with tones of mockery, then she's grinning at the brunette on the heels of it. "I've made a turnday resolution to be a little less hard to get. So I'll be needing a bed." As to the noise, "Roommate, remember? I'd rather not limit myself to only having company when I've made arrangements ahead of time. Tends to cramp spontaneity, wouldn't you say?" Of course Jo's outright laughing at Tayte's sarcasm, seeming to be delighted by the response. "Yer welcome that I haven' attempted to take advantage, mmmhmmm," she's willing to play along, all murmured deadpan and amused. "Of course, I could just suggest ya don' need a bed at all, too. Like ya need to sleep." Beat. "Turnday." It's sort of a question, or more than likely an invitation to explanation as the convict rider steps forward to examine one of the bedframes. As to noises and roommates though, "Who's the roomie, if ya have one?" she asks now, taking a look at her over one shoulder. "But spontaneity. Yes. Glad we've got that in common, too." She draws a finger down one of the bedframe, scrutinizing the way it's made. "Quite respectable of you," Tayte compliments with an amused smile that might have just a hint of disappointment. That is, until her other possible suggestion has her grinning. "You could. But you might come to find that I'm a much better time with a good sleep. There are few things in the world I love so well as sleep. And the dreams I'm treated to. They're usually quite vivid." All of this as she steps forward, tracing her finger across the bedframe Jo looks at. "Yvalia shares my room. She's a sweet girl." She reaches down to place both hands firmly on the footboard and gives it a good wiggle back and forth. Sure enough, squeeeeak comes its complaint. "Turnday." She then starts, leaving the best, and most distracting, for last. "Surely you've heard of them. They mark the anniversary of one's birth. Often regarded as a time for drinking, cake, and merriment. In my case all three, plus some introspection and resolutions to change my ways for the better. That's not uncommon on turndays, either. Some are more successful than others at sticking to the ones they make. Having more sex doesn't sound too difficult though." She flicks her gaze purposefully toward Jo on the word sex, brows lifting slightly with a slight curl to one edge of her lips. "I'll never be respectable, darlin'," Jo drawls, that word nearly spat out as she moves to another bedframe. She turns once Tayte inspects the previous bedframe, returning to that one as she listens on sleep. There's a soft snort to that before she simply answers back, "Promises, promises on ya bein' a 'better time'. I wonder," and she's stepping up to Tayte's personal space now, that long finger that had been tracing the frame now attempting to trace down the side of her face with the same study, "what a better time involves. Who's Yvalia?" Finger drops at that squeaking sound of the frame in study, the bluerider turning to gesture towards the next frame as she says, "I think all of these have some sort of problem, really. Ya don' know anyone that's willin' to part with somethin' better, outside the Weyr?" The next on turndays has her sending wry look the blonde's way along with a "I know what a turnday is, smart-ass. Yers passed, huh? What's involved in this resolution ya made? Havin' more sex?" Brows lift at that one, meeting her gaze easily before she gives into some husky laughter. "Now that's a resolution I can get behind," she seems to wholeheartedly agree, approaching her and the frame. "'Course, ya need help with keepin' that particular resolution..." Well, does she need to finish that? The look pretty much says the rest. "Ya know. For the sake of gettin' to know each other better." Right. Tayte's breath quickens as the finger trails down her face, but she doesn't move or flinch away. She meets Jo's darker gaze evenly. "Maybe you'll get to find out." Maybe. There's a headshake then, "No, not really. I mean, I could ask around back at Ista, maybe. But I never made it to the beds very often. I knew enough people there. Maybe I can hang around the Woodcrafters workshop and make a friend to fix one of these up for me so it doesn't squeak." She turns, placing her opposite hand on the frame, facing brunette. "It passed a few sevens back. The resolution involves having more sex-- which, for the record, is more than none," Lest there be some confusion, "--with the right people. So, if you were in earnest about getting to know me..." She takes a step closer so one of her booted feet is slid between Jo's, their bodies now quite close, head tilting so murmur, "I'd like to find out if you're one of my right people." Of Yvalia, there's no answer yet. There's a private smirk for the fact that Tayte doesn't flinch from Jo's touch, something that she seems to linger on as she answers simply on the first with, "Maybe I will." Then, on beds, "Or, I can send ya to someone that I know from outside that's good with his hands," she adds, arms coming to a fold across her chest. "He fixed mine up pretty nice, and it was in a bad shape. f ya give him my name, he won' even charge ya all that much, either." Of course, she always seems to know somebody. At hearing that her turnday passed though, she inclines her head and states, "Then happy belated turnday. If I'd known, I would have gotten ya a bottle of somethin' fine. Or somethin' strong if ya have tastes like mine. Guess that's just one more thing I'm gonna have to learn about ya, right?" There's a smirk for that, since it segues right into Tayte being celibate and her possibly being one of the right people. There's a quiet chuckle for all that's said there, with the blonde stepping to her with her booted foot right there between her own. Chin lifts a fraction at her, her gaze challenging in response even though she doesn't verbally respond right away. Uncrossing her arms to close the distance, a hand lifting to touch any errant strand of hair of hers and trailing it downwards, "Sounds like a challenge," she says to that, her tone quiet and genuine. "I'm good for it, Tayte. We can be friends. Ya'll find me real good to my friends." "I'd be grateful for the direction." Tayte answers the offer with a smile. There's a little shake of her head for the thought of a gift, "You barely know me, yet. Next turn, you can get me something nice." Her tone is playful, but the 'yet' is promising. Her smile turns mysterious to answer the comments of what Jo has yet to learn. Things look even more promising, though, in the way she doesn't shy from Jo's proximity as she closes the gap. "You'll find that I am that. A challenge. And I've my share of-- issues." She watches Jo's eyes intently. "Scared yet?" Beat. "Fortune favors the brave, you know. You can kiss me if you're still willing." Nodding, "I'll stop by Tarun's place then," Jo decides with a nod. "See what he can do. I do my part to get him in some business whenever the opportunity comes." There's a flap of her hand on the next, though as she shrugs one shoulder on gifts and states, "I keep paid. Ya could have considered it a good Weyr-warmin' gift since ya haven' been here all that long. Still, suppose I can figure out what a 'nice' gift would be. I ain' all that sentimental, though," she seems to warn with a bark of laughter. "Ya might end up bein' gifted with a pair of lacy panties or somethin'. It'd be pretty sentimental and nice to me, anyway." The statement about Tayte having issues draws her apparent interest,her head turning a fraction with her gaze remaining firmly on her as she prompts, "Like what? Is it too early to ask?" Beat. "Shit, woman, why would I be scared?" That has her snorting and shaking her head. "Ya got issues. I've got issues. We can play the 'Whose Issues Fucks with the Other's Head First' game, if ya like. Betcha I'll win it." Since she's allowing and offering, what red-blooded, wily bluerider wouldn't take her up on that kiss? A hand steals up to have the blonde by the back of the neck before she's drawing her into kiss - right there in the stores, her lips all demanding. "You find out that I've not had sex in four turns, and you want more examples of my issues?" Tayte asks softly, a little laugh escaping. This, it would seem, to her, is enough of an example for now. But she doesn't have to come up with words to say so, since Jo's hand is finding her neck and the space between their lips, Tayte's head tilting down to account for the mere inch discrepancy in heights, and then the space between the rest of them vanishes. The blonde kisses the way that she looks, but more intensely. The warmth becomes hot, the easy way, translates into easy to learn and easy to follow or lead as the need arises. Her own hands slip onto Jo's hips, grasping the black leather and pulling her hips firmly against her own. She lets it go on a few moments, obviously enjoying herself and living in this moment without worry for the next to come, before she's pulling her head back, stepping backwards. "Yvalia." She says softly. "She's my daughter." Beat. "She's nearly four. And gets quite cranky," As she mentioned, "When awoken unexpectedly." There's a blush on her cheeks for the admission, coloring between the freckles. "Other than bein' depraved," Jo is easy to note on the first, "ya poor thing, ya. Is there more examples, then? Ya think that would scare me?" She shakes her head on that front, though she does add, "Can' even imagine not havin' sex for four turns. I think I would be sick and outta my mind the whole time." Knowing her... Then there's that kiss, and it's heated and push-and-pull and demanding like she tends to be. She lets her hips press against Tayte's own, a low rumble perhaps heard against her lips as she indulgently tastes the woman's lips for a second time before finally letting her go. She exhales as her hand lingers behind her neck before withdrawing, and before she could say anything wisecracking, there's something being said about her roommate. She leans away so that she could see the blonde's face once it's revealed that Yvalia is her daughter, not interrupting her as she continues to speak with slight furrowed brows. Then, once she notices the blush upon cheeks, fingers lift to brush one cheek briefly before she states, "A daughter. I imagine she would be cranky. Her father still in yer life? Or hers, even?" "Thankfully, she's usually not cranky otherwise. But you can appreciate why I might need a quiet bed?" Tayte lifts a brow. The blush starts to fade since Jo didn't suddenly make a handy excuse about where else she needed to be in that moment. "It's only ever been Vali and me." She tilts her head regarding Jo evenly as she says, "Turns out I had enough sex to last me the four turns. One of the consequences is that there's no father in her life, and several possible that occasionally ghost into mine. But I'm here now. And as far as I know, no one that would be interested to know knows where to find me." She reaches to flick that pesky stray tress that keeps falling back into her face out of the way again. "So if you're worried about me being hung up on some man from way back when... You've nothing to worry about." With an incline of her head for an answer, yes - Jo can certainly appreciate. "Hard enough havin' to move another place and learn all over again. Yeah, I get it." She leans against one of the frames, something said getting her interest as she prompts, "Are ya sayin' there could be someone interested in huntin' ya both down?" Dark eyes follow that finger messing with the pesky stray tress, then returns to her eyes again before the last registers. There's a flap of one hand to that along with whoosh of air before she answers, "Hung up? Nah, I don' care about that! Of course, should become friends and there's some guy givin' ya a hard time, I'll rough'em up for ya. I can get pretty protective over the folks I give a shit about. I try to do somethin' if I can. Ya know?" She flashes a grin Tayte's way then, giving her a liberal once-over from her vantage point before she adds, "Anyway. I like yer resolution. Think I'll like us gettin' to know each other, too. Ain' much of an open book, myself, but, I'll try to answer anything ya wanna ask." "She's been adjusting alright. She's had a bed from the beginning." Amusement colors Tayte's expression, but there's also a warmth of affection there under the surface. "But squeaky beds... well, with your friend's help, that shouldn't be a problem." A laugh answers the matter of those who might seek her, "None that wouldn't be discouraged by a little roughing up." As she speaks, she reaching her own hand up now to brush the back of her knuckles softly down Jo's cheek before she leans in to press a light kiss of amused thankfulness to her lips. "Right now, Jo, I only have one question for you." There's a subtle quirk to her lips, a touch of mischievousness to her gaze. She stays close to ask it, lending it enough pause to make it feel 'significant' before she murmurs simply, "Care to have lunch with me next seven?" Nodding on the first, "I'll let ya know when I pass on that yer comin' his way," Jo gives on seeking bedframe help. "He won' steer ya wrong." Her chin lifts a fraction when Tayte touches her cheek, that light kiss taken in stride before she murmurs with a knowing smirk afterwards, first, "I think someone likes me." She'll totally tease about it, too. A brow lifts further when the blonde does have a question for her after all, pushing herself off against the bedframe she was leaning against to listen. Then the question comes, and she's laughing in that short way she does, all bravado and casual in the way she does before answering. "Sure, why not? I think I can make some time for ya, darlin'." She brushes by her shoulder to saunter over and collect up her box of things she left on the floor, hefting it above one arm before turning back to face her. "So, I'll see ya then?" The bluerider about to head out, resting the box against her hip. "I can play the objecting damsel, if you prefer it that way." Tayte answers the tease with her own, though there's a ring of truth to that. The bravado simply seems to amuse her all the more, watching Jo with focused interest, as though she were the most interesting thing in the stores (which she might just be at this moment!). The smile that flashes shows dimples and teeth in response to the farewell, "You will." She assures. "Now, go on," She encourages, expression impish, "I hate to see you go, but I do so enjoy you walking away." Grin. "Does the ego in if ya just play the damsel alone," Jo is quick to counter, brows lifting and falling in quick succession. "But I don' think yer ready for all that," yet, she seems to leave off, even though it could probably he heard between them. Then she gets her confirmation and the convict rider's snorting in amusement at Tayte's last, shaking her head and pivoting on one boot to deliberately show her her leather-clad backside. "I aim to please," is all she says to that before she starts to saunter off with her box, her wiry hips giving off just a slight sway with each step, as if for her attention alone. Since she asked, and all. Then there's a backhanded wave and a "Catcha on the flip side!" before she's around the corner and gone. |
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