Logs:Transient, Thief, Trader
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| RL Date: 17 June, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, Finne |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aishani meets Finne. Finne wants to build a snowman. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 1, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions |
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| Can there be a clear cold day at High Reaches? Apparently not. The rain is keeping people inside today and also close to the hearths; it might be why the kitchen is unusually bustling, but the cleanup from the turnover festivities might have something to do with it too, still ongoing days later. Though Aishani, tall, dark-haired, and impeccably dressed, is likely working on that, clipboard i hand with massive serving dishes stacked before her, it's apparently break time as she chats easily with a couple of the kitchen workers in a way that looks very much like gossip. They all laugh in a quiet, amused way before the pair wander off back to the sinks, back to work. The kitchen workers pass by her way, still laughing. "What's so funny?" Finne chirps, the wash cloth she's using to scrub down the massive island falling lax in her hands. "Nothing that concerns transients," says one woman, while the other one looks a little less comfortable with this reaction, but isn't brave enough to object. The transient's blue eyes narrow, the wash cloth finding vigor once more in irritable swipes even as Finne casts a look backwards, following the kitchen workers' trail to spy Aishani. Taking the clipboard and the general in-charge aura in stride, the teenager begins to sidle her way around the island, at least making progress in her cleaning, to come nearer the goldrider. Fine brows arch after the workers for the reaction to the girl's question, but Aishani says nothing, just seems to go back to her counting, moving the pencil over her clipboard. As she counts a number of platters, her sharp, dark gaze flickers over to Finne briefly before it goes back to her inventory. She marks down a number, then says, as if to the air, "We were just being nasty about someone. Not a terribly complimentary thing to admit to." She doesn't care what it says about her though. After a moment, with another glance, "Transient is better than thief, but trader is preferable, I think." Finne's blue gaze meets that second glance of Aishani's, the one coupled with the explanation of preferred designations. Two spots of color arise on her high cheeks, an embarrassment that wasn't there when called a transient by all too evident when it's clear someone else noticed. With eyes flickering about like the attention of a hummingbird, unable to fixate on one place for long, the brunette just gives up and begins to swipe at the island again, this time a lot more half-heartedly, before remarking, in a voice far more subdued than her previous chirp was, "Can't say we're much of traders now either, y'know? What self-respecting traders do this kind of work while wintering in a Weyr?" She shrugs diffidently, and somehow the act of speaking such truths allows Finne to shed some melancholy, enough to offer Aishani a dimmed, but bright enough, smile. "Name's Finne. And you're the goldrider." For what it's worth, Aishani has the grace to pretend she doesn't notice Finne's embarrassment, continuing to count, now serving spoons - ones that are quite a bit fancier than the usual. "Oh, I don't know. Do you lose your skills when you lose some ground? I think not. With those, there's always hope of rebuilding." The Vijays could be said to be an example of that; despite turns of difficulties, they're back on a proper route, making decent marks, shoddy wagons redone and repainted. After she's marked something else down, she looks up to nod, introducing herself properly. "One of many. Aishani, Iesaryth's. You'll see her on her ledge or the rim, watching." "I've seen her." Finne stares a moment longer than polite at Aishani, blue eyes memorizing each of the goldrider's features. Something she sees, or hears, draws the smile on her lips a little broader. "You're not what I expected you to be at all," remarks the teenager brazenly. "I've seen you and her and the others, and most people don't notice me cause I'm not very big and I like watching people." That's not creepy at all. "You look too pretty to be nice. Not that pretty people can't be nice, but you know, sometimes someone is just too put together to seem nice? But you don't seem like that. I'm not explaining myself well. I've probably insulted you a few times without meaning to, but don't hold it against me? I'm just a transient." The last is infused with a sudden injection of self-deprecating humor. With faint amusement, perhaps more for the queen than for the younger woman, "She's likely seen you too then." It's likely good that Aishani is used to attention, dresses for attention, because Finne's regard doesn't seem to bother her in the least. Moving on to some smaller plates, "That's good, really. I used to be able to try to go unnoticed and listen and watch. Now it's more of a hide in plain sight thing. And I'm not all that nice." Another note, and she looks up again, quite serious about that, though she's not being evil right now either. "What did you expect? And I wouldn't worry about that, honestly. People have said much worse to me. Trust me." There's a hint of a wry smile. "I thought," Finne begins, the rag all but stopping it's useless circular motions, "I don't really know what I thought. I've read some of the records," and thus implying she knows some of Aishani's history. "Even when they try to be neutral some personality comes through and all the tales make it sound like you're driven and goal-oriented. Focused and smart. Smart people don't usually seem to want to chat with the help much, even... when it's shit talking someone else." The girl's eyes widen and a hand comes over her mouth. "Am I allowed to swear like that to a goldrider? I can, right? You're trader bred? Shit, fuck, damn?" Blue eyes dance with merriment above that hand over her mouth, waiting and watchful for any sign of anger. "Yes, well." Aishani says dryly. "It helps when you write some of them." History is written by the victors, and she was winning, for a little while there. "I suppose there's something to that, but two things: one, it's my job to know the 'help' so I know what's going on, and two, there's no better place for gossip than the kitchens or the laundry. Free advice." A flash of a smile for Finne before she goes back to her clipboard. "Oh, riders swear like that all the time. There's a wingsecond who thinks 'fuckable' is the height of compliments." So she's not concerned. "Fuck shit hot damn, then! I'll have to spend more time here or in the laundry rooms. If I want to know what's /really/ going on in this Weyr." Finne triumphs over the basic suite of expletives. The teenager abandons her wash cloth completely now and moves to stand by Aishani, hovering and making no attempts to hide that she's trying to peer at the clipboard. "Is everything in order? All the silverware accounted for? Salt grains counted? Isn't this job incredibly boring? Wouldn't you rather ride a runner with me through the snow? Just be /free/?" Smirking slightly at the cursing, Aishani doesn't hide the clipboard, since it is indeed, pretty boring: inventory from turnover - a column marked 'OUT' with a number of whatever, and a column marked 'IN', nearly full. With a diffident little shrug, glossy curls bouncing, "Something always goes missing, but it's likely breakage at a party. Glasses taken to a weyr or abandoned in the snow. And much of the job can be boring, yes. Most of that can be delegated." As for Finne's last, she tilts her head, considering. "I don't know what that's like." A simple statement of fact. Finne snakes an arm out her hand coming to rest on Aishani's upper arm. It's a firm grip, not too tight and not loose at all, that emphasizes the weight of her promise. "I promise, before the winter is out, we'll go frolic in the snow. It would be fun. And more importantly, it would be fun." Didn't she just repeat herself? "There's this spot, not far off, where it's like the mountain is /hugging/ you. It's pretty spectacular and I promised myself, once I got the chance, I'd go out there again. And now you can come with me. Oh! I forgot about my day job trying to listen in on people." There's absolutely no remorse in her frankness. "I was supposed to take this to Oisa a while ago, then got hungry, then stopped to listen and decided to pitch in and... you are absolutely not interested in how my day diverged. Have a great day! If you're missing a spoon though, I might know where it went." And out she scampers. Aishani looks at the hand on her arm for a moment, like she's surprised someone is touching her, but she doesn't flinch away, just looks up and nods. "All right," she responds easily, to all of it, apparently - and watches Finne run off, thoughtfully. |
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