Logs:Toe-Jam
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| RL Date: 15 February, 2013 |
| Who: Ceawlin, Tiziano, Xhaeon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tiziano interrupts Xhaeon's and Ceawlin's breakfast in the living caverns. Topics include: Toe-jam, Search, crafts and more. |
| Where: Living Caverns, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Wind, rain, and snow combine to make for miserable, sleety weather today. |
| Mentions: Brieli/Mentions |
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| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#350RJs) Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. Contents: Tiziano Xhaeon Obvious exits: Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl
In contrast, Ceawlin looks fresh, warm and ready for the day in almost too-perfectly-prepared aggravating way. At first, Tiziano's entrance is only marginally noticed, the harper apprentice focusing on partaking of breakfast -- thankfully, no horrendous line today -- but when the messenger plants his soggy self near his own dry perch, and then proceeds to lay out socks and shoes, the teen's nose wrinkles. "Really? Really?" Pale brow arches, cold eyes regard Tiziano in mild disdain, "You've got to do that here?" Because: Ew. A snort follows when the boy drinks to fast, and he can't help but snark: "Looks hot." The harper's in fine form this morning himself. "It may be better to let that cool before drinking it," comes the unsolicited advice from the big Smith settling across the table, eyeballing those drying socks with a wary expression. Xhaeon has a large plate of food, himself, and a steaming mug of what looks like cider, the faintest scent of crisp apples and mulling spices emanating from his general direction. He slides a half-spot over, further away from those socks. "Listen to the Harper," he advises Tiziano further-- because obviously, the Harper is good. Oh right, there are other people living in this Weyr besides himself. Tiziano has the decency to look sheepish, but it doesn't last long. Moving into the defensive territory is just far to easy. "What?" He says, once the temperature of his mouth is back to normal. "My feet were cold and wet!" He does a slight turn, both feet on either side of the bench before lifting a foot up and showing it to Ceawlin. "And look! They were starting to get all wrinkly!" Toys are wiggled at the Harper before he finally puts his foot back down. He does move the socks, however, onto his boots, when he notices Xhaeon's movement. "C'mon! They were just cleaned like a sevenday ago! They don't smell that bad." Pffft. Settling himself back onto the bench like a normal person, pouting. Cause it's manly to pout. "Yeah, thanks for the advice." The larger lad gets a grumble as his mug is pushed away. Though his mood doesn't stay sour long. He's eyeing up Xhaeon's plate of food. "So uh... ya gonna eat all that?" Even Ceawlin's food gets eyed. "You too?" A shared glance to Xhaeon shows hints of solidarity in cold blue eyes, but Ceawlin's focus is entirely on the messenger. "Oh, man, dude, no." The harper sidles away a few inches down the bench, possibly in the big smith's direction. "I don't want to see your hairy, grimy, fungus'y toes." Lips thin, press together. "Not at breakfast." The apprentice is too cool to sputter, but smooth tenor comes slightly choked, "Cleaned just--" Words are snipped off by incredulity, possibly the only reason why the usually uniform, neutral, accent-less voice comes with the edge of crom's influence, "Are you kidding me? You can't have my food you hungry beast-monster." His plate? Pulled closer, within the circle of his arms while dagger-gaze is directed at Tiziano. Edging a little farther over, Xhaeon levels Tiziano a Look, brandishing his fork a little more noticably. "If you want to keep all your fingers," he advances, his baritone edging a little closer to bass in depth. It's open to if this has to do with displaying fungi toes or trying to steal food. "There is food still out," he gestures with his chin out that-a-ways, where the forlorn last tidbits of a large breakfast are wilting. His attention shifts to Ceawlin, obviously the superior breakfast-mate of the bunch. "Harper!" Eyes are drawn down to a shoulder, and an eyebrow rises in tandem; "Oh." Doesn't that single syllable say it all? Traitor! "They aren't fungus-y!" Though Tiziano does pause long enough to give a good look to his toes, eyes scanning them. There's some toe jam in there, but nothing that can't be washed away. "Yeah, totally aren't." More wiggling of the toes, dislodging some of those crumbs between his digits. See? Cleaner already! "Mmm, yeah. Learning to clean 'em myself. My ma used to do most my laundry, but she won't come to the Weyr to do it and my aunt's all, 'Tiziano, you gotta learn how to do things for yourself. I'm too busy with my dragon. What kind of man are you? Blahblahblah!'." He mimics what can only be his aunt in a nasally high voice that truly comes way too easily to the teenager. Hands come up in a defensive gesture as he scoots back from the Fork Brandisher. "Easy, just saying. If you wanted to share, I'm here. Y'know. Willing to eat. Foods over there, kinda far, and I've got no shoes on." See his problem? It's truly sad. His drink now cool enough to gulp, it's dragged back over and nursed. Though his attention is drawn back towards the two other men and his own eyes see what Xhaeon's already have. "Heeeey. You one of them... candy-dates, eh?" He leans forward, getting all up in Ceawlin's personal bubble, reaching out to touch the white knot. "For Faranth's sake!" Ceawlin gives the illusion of having dry heaves when bits of Tiziano's toe jam gets dislodged. He looks down at his plate, then at Xhaeon, then back to Tiziano and back to where breakfast is served. "Yeah, go off and get your own," annoyance makes sharp features sharper and gives the apprentice a rather unwelcoming feel, "breakfast." The harper's at a loss so while verbal vomit is getting proverbially thrown on the table by the messenger boy, Ceawlin turns to Xhaon. In the face of the Smith's judgmental face, he says, tone hovering on nonchalant conversational, "I asked to Stand." A sly cast to features exists only long enough before the candidate-harper's attention is drawn back to Tiziano. You're still here?, his expression says. "I am." One eye squints at the messenger, a thought coming belated, "You're seriously too lazy to walk over to get food? What kind of messenger are you?" A bad one! "The weyr does have a laundry service." Around bites of food, delivered from Xhaeon; the big man looks dangerously innocent. "You could enjoy the perks." That is to Tiz, of course. "Wait, wait." Hold up. "You're a messenger and you don't take care of your feet?" His expression is pretty horrified; who DOES that? This only transmutes over when Ceawlin chips in with his own addition: "Who does that?" he half-demands of the boy's asking to Stand. "Oh, right. You." He gestures with a bite of pancakes, grandly, towards the Harper. Head wags in a slow shake, but a furrowed brow may indicate that the morning-fuddled Smith is thinking over the reprecussions from such an act. All the haterade is more or less ignored by Tiziano, or he's oblivious to it. Either or. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hands are held up again, this time in astonishment. "There is a laundry service? No one told me that." Until now. "Oh shards yeah! Who has two thumbs and is gonna get his socks clean?" He gleefully points to himself, a shit-eating grin on his face as he wags his eyebrows at both Ceawlin and Xhaeon. This day just got brighter and less smelly! "Hey, I'm a great messenger. And I am taking care of my feet. They're drying out now and don't have the wet socks on them, don't they?! Plus. I'm still new at it." He's learning. Slowly. "Dude. Dude. Dude!" If Tiziano didn't fear for his life, he's shake Ceawlin with all this knowledge he's coming into. "You can ask to Stand? Like. What? You just walked up to some dragon and like... told him you were gonna stand and that's that or what?" And here Ceawlin is looking all innocent (as well as he can, that is, which is not that well at all). "I did." Tiziano is spared for a moment as the harper elaborates, "I am still a harper," hard edge rests on this word, underscoring importantce, "just also a Candidate." The messenger draws Ceawlin's (reluctant) attention once more. It's like a train wreck you just can't look away from. "Yes," drolly commented around a bite getting taken out of a sweet roll, "Only, I walked up to the Weyrwoman," pause, "Brieli, and asked." Cold eyes give Tiziano a glance-over, expression dubious. "You might want to consider if you have the skills to handle such a complicated task as using the laundry service." Sharp words come with a sharp smile, which gives sharp features an unpleasantly entitled air. The Haterade is strong with this one. "Yes, there is a laundry service." Xhaeon's pretty patient, even for all of this. Maybe he /would/ be a good herder of baby Smiths. Or maybe he's just still mostly sleep-fogged and thus... mellow. "Just ask one of the girls in the caverns." He's not sexist, really. They just are all women. Really. "Brieli, hmm?" A slanting gaze, sharpening now, from Xhaeon to Ceawlin. He's on to you, foxface! "I'm sure that must have been an... interesting conversation." He takes a moderate sip of his cider, followed by a longer one when it proves to not be crazy-hot. "Yep, that's what I did." not inclined to provide the details of his strategy, the harper only gives Tiziano an enigmatic smile for his crazy barrage of questions. Xhaeon is turned to; "I shall do my craft proud," is Ceawlin's repsponse to Xhaeon's observation regarding Brieli; emphasis lies heavy on craft, here. Little doubt can be had as to where this harper hangs his hat, and it rests solely on Harper's interests. Pushing himself to his feet, he gathers up the instrument case that was resting by his feet, and pushes the half-eaten plate towards the mouth-with-crusty-feet. "Here, boy," irony that, "Have the rest. I promise I didn't poison it much." Humor is dry, deadpan, delivered more like statement. To Xhaon, "Find me later." That serves as his exit; tow-headed Ceawlin making his way deeper into the weyr. No way is he going outside in that muck! Xhaeon would have commentary on all of this, probably. He has a quick smile for Tiziano's antics and a slower one for Ceawlin's slight emphasis. "Indeed," he comments to the last, an ironic slant of eyebrows; he's probably not going to go running after the Harper, though they have generally good luck at running into one another. The journeyman lifts to his feet-- "Some of the girls are older, if that helps? I'm sure you can find one... around the age of your mom." Beat. "Or maybe your grandma, if that's more your style." To Tiziano, one last smile, entirely too charming (ly malicious), before he's taking his plate and mug and relocating to pay heed to one of the posted master's beckonings over yonder. Exit, stage left. "Woooow," is repeated once more, his amazement even more pronounced in this one, simple word. "That's so awesome. I could never do that." Ceawlin's leftover are gladly taken, the messenger grabbing a fistful of whatever and shoveling it into his mouth with a "Fanks!" thrown in the harper's direction. As Xhaeon speaks, Tiziano is nodding his head with each word, chewing quickly and trying to swallow larger-than-healthy pieces of food so he can speak more. Finally, with only a small amount of food left in his maw and right before the smith departs he is able to get out a quick, "That does help a bit, thanks!" A hearty wave to both guys as they depart to places. Tiziano? He finishes off Ceawlin's breakfast, then grabs up his boots and heads towards the inner caverns to find someone to do his laundry for him. |
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