Logs:Temporary Fix
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| RL Date: 24 February, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Hana |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hana isn't who Azaylia is looking for, but she ends up being a much needed distraction for the goldrider. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Issedi/Mentions |
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| Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath. During the afternoon the greenhouse is a warm, if humid place to have lunch. There are a few souls that take advantage of the shelter which is outdone only by the hatching galleries. Except there are no overprotective queens hiding among the pretty flowers, here. Azaylia enters, snow quickly melting from her dark cloak as the young woman goes on a silent, timid search throughout the structure. She looks as though she has seen better days, as does the faded, patched up old dress that she wears. Hana is one of those taking advantage of the warmth and humidity and flowers. Her shawl is left on one of the benches, as the young woman peeks around the beds of green things and poking around the blooming plants. Actually, those are more her sort of thing, as she carefully lifts the occasional blossom up to peek at steams and how sturdy said blossoms are. Hana isn't a massively scarred, inked and hairy man, which actually makes her a more startling find among the blossoms. A closer inspection has Azaylia stopping suddenly, a self concious hand running over her hair, the buns not her best work today. "Hana." She greets in a whisper that's close to a squeak, "Is La- is Issedi around?" Not that she seems to hope so. Quite the opposite, what with her carefully peeking this way and that. Hana straightens up at her whispered name, and turns towards the speaker, "Ah! Lady Azaylia - good day," she offers the greeting with a smile, before shaking her head, "No; she is spending some time with our little one - but mentioned she was missing some flowers. I am not sure if she is thinking for her hair, or the rooms, however. What do you think?" she offers, stepping to one side to show the weyrwoman the flowers she was looking at - soft pinks and tiny blossoms - and to get a better glance at the buns, of course. Forgive Azaylia for looking somewhat relieved. With a slow exhale, she stops clutching that cloak so tightly over herself to reveal her perfectly functional fashion faux pas. "Hello." Time for a proper greeting, though her smile suffers some. "If I wasn't sure, uhm... I might bring back different ones? Some for her hair, some that suit the room?" Leaning forward to look over the flowers, she gives a faint not of approval, "I think the Lady enjoys pink?" In doing all of this, it will be all too clear that her hair has been done in a rush, and with little thought. Hana hms, "That is a good idea - and it is a favored color," she admits, before smiling a bit. "Do you have a favorite flower color?" comes the question, before moving to the bench with her shawl, and removing it before waving slightly to offer it to the other woman, "If you'd like. It is a nice place to warm up; everything is so green." Azaylia doesn't mean to look distracted, ushering her lower lip in for a thoughtful chew as her eyes continue to scan the greenhouse. It takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize that she's been asked a question, "O-oh. I don't know that I do. Never thought about it." So now she has to, accepting the offered seat with a polite nod of her head. "It is." She agrees, hands folded politely in her lap as she comes upon an answer, "Blue or lavender." The Holder looks at Zay for a long moment, lips still for said moment, before twitching into a smile. "Well, if you like, we could see if there are any that suit you, and we could try them out." A glance is given to the rushed buns, before she offers, "And that way, I could see how the flowers hold up, and we can be enjoy ourselves for a time?" "Try them out?" Azaylia asks, and it's only then that it dawns on her. "Would that keep you from your Lady?" There's concern for Hana's duties, but she isn't saying no to the offer. "But, if you have time... dark blue or pale blue might look nice?" One hue of 'Reaches, the other better to match the majority of her dress. She gives the younger woman a faint smile, "It does sound nice." Especially when compared to recent events. "I am not needed for a mark or two - plenty of time to enjoy ourselves, I would think?" Hana offers, before moving back to the flowers, "Hm... Dark blue, I think, would be more suitable, and offset things nicely. And I even have a spare comb somewhere, so we can weave them properly in." And redo those messy buns before the poor riderwoman has to go back out in public, not that said hairdresser would say that! "It is a guilty pleasure of mine, I must admit - playing with other people's hair. It is a way to relax for everyone involved." Azaylia gives another soft nod, "And if you do get in trouble, you can tell Issedi that it's my fault." With her own offer made, she remains seated on the bench to wait for Hana to find an appropriate flower. "Is it?" Usually quiet voice is even more so, the young woman too tired to put much effort into being heard. "My Mama always used to brush my hair. It went down past my waist, before..." She trails off, as if the end of her sentence is obvious. Wait, holdbred! "Uhm, they cut your hair short when you become a weyrling." Oh the horror. Hana does, in fact, come to a full stop at that piece of information, "They cut.... that is horrible! Down to your waist even? You poor child! Well, I mean then, of course," Hana backsteps slightly, before shaking her head in dismay. "And if it has been that long since you've had a proper brushing, my dear, you are to stay right there, and not move a smidge. We are going to have to fix all that," she mutters, before going about looking for flowers. Yes, flowers. As in multiple. Probably. The fact she lifts a hand now and again to make sure that /her/ hair is still there is totally absent-mindedly. ".. .cut waist long hair!" can occasionally be heard. The goldrider is visibly startled, that droop in her shoulders suddenly straightening as she watches Hana's reaction. "I... yes." Azaylia readily accepts sympathy for something that happened ages ago. "Hraedhyth, my dragon, was ready to uhm... Well, she wasn't happy about it, either." Let's not bring up the fact that she wanted to bite the Weyrlingmaster's head off. Ahem. "Yes'm." She does as she's told, sitting right where she is with a weak curl to her lips. Hana would protest the yes'm bit, but she's quite on high over the shocking - absolutely shocking! - state of history involving those messy buns, and all too soon, a number of small flowers are gathered, with as long of a stem as she can manage on most of them. Coming back with her armfull, the holder woman stops, and looks at Azayla, then her burden. "... this may take a while. But that's alright. Why don't you pick your favorite, and I'll brush out your buns. Are you tender headed?" she adds, words going quicking a'pace. The cloak is unfastened and folded, revealing the inside to be midnight blue rather than more black. Azaylia has saved Hana some trouble, hair left to fall down past her shoulders in natural waves, though some are from how tightly they were secured. "If you're sure it's not too much trouble?" The weyrwoman is looking forward to what is in store for her hair, as pleased as her metaphorical raincloud will allow her to be. "No. Feel free to yank. It shouldn't be tangled." She did brush it today, after all. Hana uses the cloak to pile the flowers on for easy access, and just beams at the sight of all that wavey hair, "You really should let it grow all the way out. Well, if you're allowed to now? I must admit - just the thought of having to cut my hair would have me hiding from any and all dragons coming to visit. And do you want buns again, or should I do a woven braid," she asks, pulling out a comb from a sleeve and moving to one side of the bench to get a somewhat optimial situation going for the combing. "If it just because of the hassle, maybe you should see if any of the women - not riders, I'm sure - like to do this sort of thing." "Yes, after graduation a rider can wear their hair however they want. I'm trying to get it as long again. It was at least 16 turns worth of hair." Azaylia knows the drill, shifting so that she's comfortable while her neck becomes rather stiff once Hana nears her head. "But... Hraedhyth was worth it." It's a fond murmur, a hint of something more genuine than polite conversation. She turns, sitting side-saddle so that Hana isn't inconvenienced, "It's not a hassle, really. I just... I've had a lot of other things on my mind." She admits, although carefully. "Which is why you should have someone else with the little things that others /can/ help you with. My lady doesn't /truly/ need my assistance every day, but I can help with what I can, leaving in her hands the things that only she can do." Not the best of arguments, given as the lady in question really is as she appears to be, but still. Light tugs start at the bottom of the locks, carefully teasing out any tangles that may have been formed in captivity, then slowly moving forward. "Don't worry - I don't bite. And that is good to hear - bad enough to cause such an injury, but then to not let you regain your glory?" Well, besides the dragon, of course. A slight sniff is given at the insult to 16 turns of hair. Azaylia gives a soft laugh that falters halfway, "I couldn't imagine having someone do all of this for me. Not all the time." She explains. She glances down at the flowers without moving her head, fingers plucking up a few with dark blue petals and long stems, "And, a braid might be interesting." Everything else is changing, so why not? The goldrider sounds faintly amused as Hana carries on, but then again she's had several of turns to accept such atrocities. "Do you enjoy what you do, Hana?" Simple curiosity. "We'll have to play a bit and see," Hana decides after a moment, starting to pull the sparse-toothed comb through the hair, just lightly applying pressure against the skull and then pulling down. "I should think so. It.. actually was not what was planned for me, but I thought this much better than finding a Blooded husband - don't you think? And I do like clothing and such almost as much as I enjoy doing up hair, so it works out well." There's a pause, though Hana won't see the faint grimace on Azaylia's face, one that has little to do with the comb in her hair. "You were going to be married off?" She tries not to sound as if it's the worst fate imaginable, but her feelings on such a practice are easy to figure out. "I'm glad it works for you. From what I've seen, I'd say that Lady Issedi is happy to have you." Certain flowers are brought up to her face for a closer inspection, "Are you enjoying the Weyr? Have there been any problems?" The questions come naturally to her. What else is there to do when you're having your hair done, but talk? "Hm... Mother and Father insist that we are Blooded - or should be, if it is too far back. It is a silly thing to insist on, especially when there is no need for such a family thing to show up, and I had no mind to be part of it. Thankfully, the opportunity to help Lady Issedi and her mother came early enough they couldn't insist - and really, if helping the Ladies of the Hold isn't enough, having a son-by marriage wasn't going to do it." Though, with that sort, they probably wouldn't mind Hana tripping Devaki in a dark corner. Moving onward, Hana glances down to see what flowers have gained Azaylia's interest, and gets an.. interesting view of the actual dress said weyrwoman is wearing. Hands pause for a moment, then continue, though for the moment the comb disappears, and she uses her fingers to search out any last knots. "The Weyr has been most hospitable during our visit - and the party was /very/ enjoyable! No problems at all that I've been aware of, and we're looking forward to the hatching and party to come." The weyrwoman is silent during Hana's explanation, though she'll add somewhere near the end, "I don't know why so many worry about being Blooded. Or, being in charge at all." There's some slump to her shoulders, "Then again, of course I'd say that. If I weren't a weyrwoman, would I feel the same way? Or would I understand the need to feel important better?" It's a quiet musing, not meant to derail their discussion in the least. Azaylia is prone to thinking out loud, and thankfully her voice is a quiet one. "The hatching is going to be amazing." Says she, who is totally unbiased. "But before then, if you ever need help with anything..? You can get to my weyr without a dragon." As she likely remembers. "I'm close enough to not to safely say that such is not a position for me, thankfully. Being in charge of a set of rooms, a wardrobe or two, and what to have available for outfits and hair is more than enough. And I have no doubt of that - even with my inexperienced eye. Hm. Can one make things out of egg-shell? I peeked in only shortly, but from what I have heard, shells can be amazing colors. It might be interesting in a hairnet, or if they are good for making beads," she offers. "And I shall keep your kind offer in mind - and be thankful for the ability to keep my feet on the ground." Once the fingers are finished combing through the hair, the mass is divided into three portions, and started to get tugged left and right. "When it was longer, did you prefer buns or braids?" Azaylia only has a soft nod, one that shouldn't upset her temporary hairdresser. "It's hard." But that's all she'll say on the matter, not wanting to say anything upsetting to a guest of the Weyr. "I... I don't know." She seems startled by the idea, "I regret not saving Hraedhyth's shell. Especially if... Hm. Now would that be a question for a glassmith or a smith-smith?" Another thought that leaves her lips, one that is offered for Hana's consideration. The flowers she's chosen are deeply blue and have large petals, and among them are a contrasting small, pale cluster. "Buns. I did a lot of work at home, and as an Apprentice. I just got used to them." Function over fashion. Hana hms thoughtfully, "Do you have any over in the complex? I imagine, like you, others would enjoy a keepsake, and it would make a beadstrand - or a net with rounded shards - even more special. And those are lovely.... I have a thought of a woven braid on the top, then a bun here," she touches the base of the head. "If you like the idea, our only other question is... big or little for the braided bit." "We do." Azaylia's answer is quick, revealing her thoughts to be similar to Hana's, "And some are even candidates, now. If it is possible, I might want to steal a few shards for myself." With a quiet laugh, "For Hraedhyth." Of course. There's a tilt to the weyrwoman's head, trying to envision what it is the hairdresser has in mind for her dark locks. "That sounds different." Interesting. "I think a big braid might be better. More flowers." Hana laughs quietly, "As you wish, my lady," before fingers start to separate and twist, slowly forming a woven braid that sits on top of the hair, showing off the braid a bit more. Now and then she pauses, picking up an especially long-stemmed flower to actually weave in, leaving the short-stems for tucking in. "Do make sure to get something for yourself - if it is beads, a strand can be made like my beads. It helps keep things under control on those days when it seems every hair wishes it go its separate way." "I'm not, I mean..." She's momentarily flustered at the, hopefully playful, title, "Okay." Azaylia's not willing to argue about much, worried about ruining their pleasant chat. "I'll try. Would you enjoy something, if it's possible? And Lady Issedi?" She has a soft, perhaps knowing smile. "She seems very excited with everything that has to do with the Weyr." "I believe my lady would find herself over the moons at the idea, but if it can be made into something she can wear," and show off with girlish delight!, "I am certain she would be most pleased." Unsaid is that she's just as much a fan of pretty-sparkly things as her lady. There is a bit more tugging, then she's pulling her hands away. "Well, there is the braid - now just for the rest of the flowers, and I believe you will be quite the colorful picture." Azaylia sits up a bit taller, "Would she?" She's quietly eager at the prospect of bringing someone, anyone, a bit of joy. Hana included, "What are your favorite colors?" Just in case. "I'm sure they're somewhere on the sands." It is a frightfully colorful pair of clutches, after all. The rider turns in her seat to face the other woman, finges delicately reaching up to touch at the braid and what flowers are woven within. "Oh. I wish I had a bit of metal." Something reflective, though her more expensive mirror is safe and sound within her weyr. The smile she gives Hana is one of gratitude, already turning around to let her finish the bun. "Without a doubt." A tug here, a tug there, and the last of the flowers disappears. "Mine? Hm.. Honestly, the dress for the party was orignally going to be a little bit.. more monotone - but most of those colors were among my favorites to begin with." There is a pause, then she steps backwards, and puts her hands on the hips. "There! All done, my lady - and a lovely choice of flowers!" Azaylia stands up after she's done, looking silly for the moments she tries to look up past her own forehead up at her new do. "Thank you, Hana." She's not as excited about hair, but that doesn't mean her appreciation isn't genuine. Shame such lovely locks are paired with a dress that is so three turns ago. "You're wonderful." Truly, the weyrwoman believes that, though the source of her relief may not be obvious. Her eyes look to the hairdresser once again, "Blue and green, then." She remembers. "It was my pleasure, Azaylia - and it should stay that way long enough for you to check it later, I would think." The braid part. The flowers, well, who knows. "But I suppose I should gather a couple of pink flowers, and see to Lady Issedi before it gets too much later." There is a pause, then a faint smile, "And always - but again, if they can't - please don't worry about it?" The goldrider reaches for her cloak, dusting the few remaining petals off, "I want to go see it right now." While it's still pristine, and the winds are nice enough not to knock all the flowers from her head. "Pink and white might look nice." She suggests, taking a step forward to try and slide a one-armed hug around Hana. "You have a lovely evening. And tell Issedi I said hello?" As for not worrying about that shell project, she probably will anyway. Or find pretty replacements. Azaylia doesn't take up much more of Hana's time, ever so carefully lifting her hood to protect the braid from the elements as she turns to leave. Hana smiles a bit and shakes her head as the young weyrwoman heads out - the smile fading as Azaylia goes out of view, replaced with a faintly troubled look. Taking a deep breath, she lets go of the worry, or at least the expression of such, then turns towards the poor, ravaged flowers. "Pink and white? Hm.. that would be a nice combination." And then it is to that duty she sets herself to. |
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Barnabas (Barnabas (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 27 Feb 2013 23:42:36 GMT.
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Stop poaching my flowers!
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