Logs:Teenage Games
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| RL Date: 14 February, 2015 |
| Who: Itsy, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lya tries to look out for Itsy. Itsy doesn't appreciate her concern. Anything that ends with death threats qualifies as having gone poorly. |
| Where: Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 1, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions |
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>---< Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#378RJs) >---------------------<
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub
of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's
staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well
back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before
the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or
just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters
throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain
wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish,
though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the
table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the
glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled
scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness
of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private
quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from
drafts. Most sensible people are in bed. Teenage girls, however, have never been known for their great sense, Lya perhaps least of all. She's settled in one of the comfortable chairs, one of the only ones occupied at this hour, with a book and a pen in one hand. The page is still blank and she's looking quite surly as her eyes go from book to hearth and then to range out around the room before coming back to only-- not write s'more. Wherever Itsy's been, this evening, it's not in either dorms or common room, or any of the other rooms that immediately connect from here. With a wet sheen to her hair and a waxy chill to her cheeks, she makes her way through from the Inner Caverns on feet that are likely supposed to be 'quiet.' The trouble with that is that there's not much chance to learn 'quiet' on board a ship... and in her big, heavy boots, she may as well be galumphing. Loudly. The warning sound of the galumphing gives Lya time to close her book and set it aside and rise before Itsy's gotten too far. She's moving toward the once-and-will-be-again sailor with a loud, "Psssssst! Itsy!" It's uttered urgently, and she's waving the older girl toward where she was sitting, though she'll pursue, if she has to. It may be said that all of Farideh's prettifying efforts have been lost, now; lost, as if they had never been there at all. The sailor turns, starting visibly: "Huh?" Blue-green eyes track towards the younger girl, and then, with a shrugged sigh, she crosses towards her. "What?" Flat. "We need to talk," Lya says quite gravely, sidestepping her way back to her seat and settling back in, gesturing for Itsy to take the adjoining seat. Itsy doesn't move. "Why?" The games of teenage girls make no sense. The blonde looks up at Itsy from where she sits and sighs. Why must everything in life be so very difficult. "Because I'm worried about you," Lya says, sounding quite sincere about it. "Farideh says you're going to let her transform you. You do realize that involves dresses and other things that might be not unlike what you would have to bear if you were to be spending your time at the Hold and having to wine and dine with your newly widowed benefactor." She's quite serious, no games here. It's far too serious a topic to ever, ever play games with. Ever. Itsy's expression turns from bewildered to withering too-- resigned? She sits, albeit in a brittle, stiff kind of way that suggests she's not happy about it. "You don't think I'm able to take care of myself? Make my own decisions?" Her tone is accusatory, and quietly defensive. "Certainly you are," Lya answers placatingly, "Only I wasn't sure you realized the full ramifications of giving Farideh... well, free reign?" She raises her brows at the sailor. "She wanted me to help," this is added in case Itsy doesn't see yet why it should be any of the blonde's business. Fingernails digging in to the armrests of the chair she's sat herself in, Itsy stares at Lycinea, dubiousness shading, now, into something more actively disapproving. "Why don't," she says, after a moment more, "you stay the fuck out of my business, eh?" "I can't very well do that when Farideh's asked me to help," Lya answers with a roll of her eyes. "It makes it my business too. But if you're happy in dresses, then it's all well and good. I just wanted to check with you to make sure Farideh hadn't gone crazy." As she sometimes does, implies the tone. "No." Itsy actually stands, this time, her expression like thunder. "You stay the fuck out of my business. Tell her you can't help, or... fuck, I don't even care. You just stay away from me and mine, or I'll fucking kill you." Lycinea slides back out of her chair and onto her feet, hands going to her hips. "It would be a waste of effort. And I already offered that to Drex," not really, "And he didn't want to, so." So. "And besides, I was just trying to help you out, since you seemed like an okay person." She rolls her eyes at the shorter girl. "So save your death threats, and if you want to be mad at someone, be mad at Farideh for asking me. Next time I won't give a shit about what you want." No skin off her back, and in point of fact, less effort, which must certainly appeal to Lya. Itsy's interest in this conversation has pretty much hit rock-bottom; she raises an eyebrow at the other girl, shakes her head, and then stalks away. She is way too old for this teenage bullshit. |
Comments
Farideh (19:47, 14 February 2015 (EST)) said...
Itsy is such a darling. <3
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