Logs:The Most Perfect First Meeting Ever
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| RL Date: 13 July, 2014 |
| Who: Lycinea, Valenros |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Valenros and Lycinea like each other a lot for obvious reasons. There are sunshine and rainbows. Even a unicorn makes an appearance. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 3, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Gamil/Mentions |
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| Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a day-to-day basis. The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day.
Chores for Valenros typically entail something revolving around the archives and literacy, but today he has the honor of carrying crates and sacks into the kitchen. He's being ordered around by a short, fat cook with silver hair that sticks out at his temples. "There! Right, like that. No, no, be more careful, ack!" All of the jostling the young man does gives the cook temporary hysterics, and gives everyone else in the kitchens a reason to laugh. Ros, however, doesn't think it's too funny. He looks around sheepishly, blushing. "Sorry," he mumbles to himself, as the cook is already busy stirring the contents of a large pot. Lycinea doesn't laugh, but one might wonder with the way she squinches her face up and wrinkles her nose and brow along with her puckered lips if she ever laughs. She is looking at Valenros of course, like the rest, but it isn't until most of the attention has shifted back to the tasks at hand and the young man has mumbled his apology that she leans toward him, one hand gripping the edge of the sink so she can lean on an odd angle, and put those puckered lips to use: "Psssst!" And again, louder, "Pssssst!" An incredulous looks takes over the candidate's face in response to the "psst"s. Valenros swings his head left and right, seeking the person making such an odd sound. When his brown eyes find Lycinea, his eyebrows are quick to lift. "Uh.. huh? Me?" He needlessly points to himself, confusion taking over, and he does another quick left-to-right sweep with his head, trying to assure himself that he's the one being summoned. It's the pointing that has the blonde rolling her eyes. "No, the two-headed dimglow next to you." Given that he's just checked and there's decidedly no two-headed moron to be found, Lycinea almost certainly means him. If that wasn't obvious enough, she adds, "C'mere!" before she's straightening up and turning fully around to lean her backside against the edge of the sink. Just to be sure - because one never knows - Valenros looks to the side, as if expecting there to be some two-headed dimglow. His next reaction is to frown, brown eyes focusing in on Lycinea. "What?" he says grumpily, taking a few steps in her direction. Though he looks moody, there's a hint of mistrust in his face. "I don't want any.. trouble." It starts off strong, whittling down to a faint whisper. "I know," said as if she not only could, but does. "That's why you want to talk to me." Lya's hushed tone for these words is knowing too. "I've been here a long time, you see." Does he? Her brows ask the question. "I can teach you everything you need to know to keep that embarrassing display from happening again. Or if you're any good at scrubbing dishes we could just trade duties." The slender girl's smile is dangerous if only for its innocence. "I want to.." Valenros starts, his brow continuing to be furrow, "talk.. to.. you." He doesn't look too sure about that, edging closer but appearing to draw into himself at the same time. "You have? Huh." About trading chores, well, that ones gives a even bigger frown, and the candidate narrows his eyes a smidge. "I don't think I'm.. any good, you know, at washing.. uh, dishes. I can.. can do the carrying fine." His shoulders lift in a shrug. "I don't know.. what are you.. what do you want to.. show me?" Because there isn't too many ways to carry boxes and sacks, or so his expression says. "Well, fine then," the blonde looks a little saddened by the news of not being any good at dishes, but she moves on quickly. "You can help me, at any rate, while I clue you in. It's only fair." Lycinea turns back to the sink, hands getting busy with the dishes as if he's already accepted. "The one that scolded you is Gamil. He's the pickiest, so you're bound to hear it from him once or twice if you don't do things just exactly as he likes it, but he'll go easier on you for awhile, probably as long as you're a candidate if you ask him about the fish stews and etouffees of home. He's from a small holding at the far reaches of Tillek, came to Stand like you're doing but didn't Impress. Oh," and now she looks at him to see if she's getting her equal exchange of information for labor, but doesn't hold back, "Don't try his special etouffee unless you like things spicy." Only fair.. Valenros, again, doesn't look too sure, but for what it's worth, he moves forward and bridges the gap between them. "I don't really know.. they might still be dirty after.." He picks up a nearby rag and gives her a closer look.. up close. "Gamil, huh?" Brown eyes flick to the cook in question, finding the rotund man growling at an underfoot kitchen aide and throwing bunches of herbs into a pot. "Tillek.. I think I, uh, know.. where you're talking about.. I'm.. I'm from, Tillek." He grabs a plate and starts wiping, spending way too much time on one piece of tableware. "I don't.. ok, I won't.. uh, what's.. what's your name? Are you.. a candidate? I don't think I've.. seen.. you." Lycinia's blue-green eyes settle on Valenros for a moment, the look one that says all too plainly that she's beginning to think this mumbling mimsy is not nearly worth the effort she's going to for him. But she sighs as one shouldering a great burden might. "Fine. Show them to me once you've washed and I'll check them." Since it's her rear on the line and she's almost certainly already on today's less-than-preferred list. "Tillek." The girl repeats, looking at him sidelong. "Yeah, you look just like how a holder from Tillek should look in my head." She's younger than him, certainly, by a handful of turns, so even though she lives in the Weyr where transportation is less of an issue, it's a fair bet that she's not personally ventured to Tillek to see what holders look like when they're thirty or so turns less than the portly Gamil. "Lya," comes her answer as she watches the attention given that single item, the skin between her brows gaining a line that might as well say 'Seriously?' "Or Lycinea if you want to be all formal about it. Holders always want to be formal about things." Then abruptly, "Do you have any idea how long it would take to do all of these if each one was washed like that?" She gestures to the truly impressive pile that must not even be what it looks like at rush time. Then, as if she hadn't asked the question at all, "I'm not a candidate. Just the help. If you were at home, you wouldn't even look twice at me, I bet. Which hold are you from anyway? The big one or one of the small ones? Or the big-small ones?" Clearly she's well educated in world geography. "Hey-hey, I don't look.. like.." Valenros stops himself before he can put his foot in his mouth - honest truth, he does look like some uptight Holder from Tillek. He simply frowns and keeps scrubbing the one plate he's been working on. "I'm not 'formal', if you.. if you want to be called Lya, I can call you that.. just.. just say what you want to be called." By the end he's definitely mumbling, his forehead a series of creases as he focuses on cleaning the dish. As for the pile of plateware and his lack of rush, he just speeds up the scrubs, setting the now-clean plate down and picking up another. "Small one, near Tillek, near the river. I'm not allowed to.. to look at.. girls. Like that." Cue a strange side-eye from the candidate. The look the kitchen aide gives him is one of pure disbelief; does he really think he doesn't look like just what he is? She likely doubts anyone could be that obtuse. Fortunately, there are dishes for her to look at so he eyes don't linger on him. She might confirm her name and make things easier for him, but the last has her strangely side-eying him right back. "You're not allowed to look at girls?" Lya demands dubiously, and loudly enough to get a look from one of the passing workers, "Is your small hold like, the ultimate exception to everything I know about holders where hold boys are expected to look at one another instead? Do they call it Gay Hold just so things are clear?" This is said with a rhetorical air. This is totally the stuff of a first and mannerly conversation. They may do that strange side-eyeing at each other a while, before he visibly pales at her words, speaking in a harsh whisper without a hint of amusement. "I am not 'gay' nor is anyone else. No one, I mean no one at my Hold is gay. Don't say things like that." Valenros's gaze is intense until it isn't, fizzling off into his usual weak front. "I just.. I wasn't. I'm someone's accidental kid.. I can't just have a relationship with someone.. who wants to marry the bastard of some Holder when they can.. can have one his real sons instead." He just shakes his head, as if she should 'know'. "It's.. it's complicated." But he's moving onto another dish, so that's something. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Lya observes before saying breezily, "Both of my parents are gay." Because that's very plausible, right? "Accidental kids happen." She's shrugging like it doesn't matter. "You shouldn't worry about that part. What you should worry about is who would want to snog a boy who has a stick shoved up his rear. It's a good thing you aren't gay or a guy would have to worry that he'd have to make room." Yeah, this is totally going well for a first meeting. Valenros is looking more and more aggravated by the second. "Accidental kids don't happen if you're careful. Not looking at members of the opposite sex goes a long way towards that." He's really stringing those sentences together, without a stutter in the mix - must be the anger. "'No one' is gay, especially not me, and no one has to make room for.. for.." His face suddenly blotches with angry, red coloring and he takes a step closer, clenching his teeth together as he speaks, "Just 'shut up'!" Going really well. "If accidental kids don't happen, then what are we both, then?" Lycinea challenges, wielding a dripping (but clean!) serving spoon as she issues it. "Obviously you're here, and I'm here, and there's a lot of other bastards around here too. That's why I'm here. To be with my kind." She grimaces, a rare real reaction, before turning back to the sink. "I'm not saying you have to go out and stick your sausage into the next puff pastry that wanders by and make a porcine in a blanket with her, but they do just happen." Clearly the shutting up thing isn't going to just happen though. Although forcible gagging would really be another step in the right direction for them! The serving spoon gets a glare as he stubbornly stares Lycinea down, he hands clenched around both plate and rag. "You're disgusting. You belong here, but I don't. Wash your own damn plates," he spits, slinging the rag in the sink and tossing the plate - luckily not breakable - on the counter. There might be more words that Valenros wants to say, but keeps them to himself as he stalks his way out of the kitchen, leaving the blonde behind with her chores. "Then take off the sharding knot, candidate!" Lya shouts after him. More eyes would probably turn, especially given the way she makes 'candidate' sound awful, but this is Lya doing the shouting, so instead the eyes turn to one another as a silent conversation is had determining who will come to scold her this time. Life in the kitchens is grand, ain't it? |
Comments
Roz on 21:38, 13 July 2014 said...
They exchanged lanyard bracelets. It's true.
Lya on 04:02, 14 July 2014 said...
With beads that say <3 BFF 4 Life <3.
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