Logs:Uncomfortable Conversations
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| RL Date: 2 April, 2011 |
| Who: Ali, T'mitl |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alisha arrives at the Weyr, and meets local Teomitl; there's an uncomfortable conversation (at least for the holder). |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 5, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hariya/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Ali/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Ali's first scene! |
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| You head into the feeding grounds. Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr The feeding grounds are fenced off from the rest of the Weyr with a high, wooden fence and gate, providing plenty of space for the resident herdbeasts -- bovines, in particular -- to ramble about. The vast majority of the animals are for draconic consumption, but some of the more valuable varieties are penned away from those designated to be dragon food. Ovines and porcines are a bit more useful to humans than to the dragons that would happily dine on them and are kept further away from the bovines and closer to the stables as a result. There's plenty of grass to feed them, while herders and stablehands regularly add feed to the troughs along the eastern fence. The soil turns to mud as one gets closer to where the area butts up agains the lake, which doubles as a watering hold for the animals. Contents: Teomitl Obvious exits: Bowl Stables Having recently finished a not-too-intimidating conversation with the Senior Weyrwoman (his first actual conversation with her, though he's seen her plenty of times!) Teomitl is now seated /on/ the fence holding the bovines in their enclosure. He's not doing much of anything, just leaning back against a fence and ... watching the herd, which mostly proceeds not to do anything of interest at all. Every time one goes to drink, he follows it with subtle turns of the head, expression turning concerned. It'd be the hawk-eyed watcher that would notice yet-another-passerby entering Fort Weyr, though runner-and-rider alike look dusty enough to, perhaps, earn more than a passing glance. Alisha pauses for directions off a local before heading for the stables, emerging sometime later with a carisak over her shoulder. The woman pauses - as if to get her bearings - gaze drifting towards the feeding grounds with a furrow of brow. Moments later she strides that way, purposeful, gaze flickering over the occupants with a keen eye as she leans on the fence somewhat near Teomitl's perch. Her sidelong, speculative gaze takes in his demeanor, and with a tip of head towards the 'beasts, she comments in a deceptively neutral voice, "How are they doing?" "They're thirsty." Teomitl says this with a tick of worry in his tone, and he only remembers to look at the woman /after/ she speaks, though he did at least notice her runner come in. "Other than that, they seem fine. One of 'em tried to kill me earlier, but that's entirely normal for her." Comforting, right? "Did you just bring a runner in? I might be your designated groomer -- Teomitl." He offers his hand without getting off the fence. Alisha's lips thin briefly at Teomitl's answer - though it's probably more concerns, than his actual response that causes it. Her hands rest on the fence, eyes following the 'beasts with a sharp intensity. The latter words finally draw her gaze, and she reaches to shake Teomitl's hand with her own, awkwardly adjusting the carisak as she does so. "Alisha," she responds in kind, "And yes - it's my da's runner, actually. Mine's back home - more speed than stamina, so Metse was the best choice." Her gaze, naturally it seems, drifts back towards the feeding grounds even as she continues to speak. "You live here? How long ago did they start falling ill?" "Lovely creature." The runner, that is. Teomitl is not that much of a flirt and he is not that much of a herdbeast fancier either. "Pleasure to meet you. I do live here, yes, and I'm here in these very grounds every day and I don't actually think I could give you an exact date," he informs her all in one breath. "It's been a few months." That, at least, earns a twitch of lips - Alisha recognizing the compliment and where it's aimed. "I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to my da." The smile fades pretty quickly however, tugging a hand through her hair. "Been hearing harper's tales that it all started here." She vaguely gestures at the grounds, though she more than likely means the Weyr as a whole. Teomitl shrugs, hopping off the post to actually properly /stand/ next to her. "Oh, it might have. I wouldn't know. I'm not that -- I mean, all I know about 'em I learned since I started working here a little over a turn ago. Wouldn't say I'm an expert, especially with animals that aren't runners. All I do is feed 'em." And watch them die, he almost says, and doesn't. "The herdbeasts, that is -- do basically everything for the runners." This is the speech of the young man who has realized he might want to be stablemaster someday, and here's a pretty lady with a few runners of her own to talk up! Now that they're more of a height - well, relatively speaking, since she still has to look /up/ at him - Alisha cants another glance at her companion. "The runners haven't gotten sick?" she wonders, curiously. "Normally an illness like that would hit both animals, since they share feed and water." There's a steady patience in the way she phrases her questions that is - odd. Deliberate. "That's what I was just telling the Weyrwoman," Teomitl tells her proudly. "I mean, that I was worried the runners might get sick, and that it was weird that no one but the herdbeasts were -- not runners or humans or dragons or anything. I think it might be something only herdbeasts can get. Would you know if that were possible?" Because he hasn't got a clue, and Teomitl would sure love to know the answer. Alisha's head tips, sharp interest in her gaze as he mentions the Weyrwoman. "And what did she say?" Swinging the carisak off her shoulder, the dark-haired woman lowers it down to the ground, leaning an arm still on the fence. "Well," she hesitates, "I'm not a - proper crafter or anything, but - normally they get sick together because they share the same source. I'd assume they do here too -" she gestures towards the lake. "The other possibility is, well," her voice lowers, and she says significantly, "The dragons eat the herdbeasts - but not the runners." Teomitl furrows his brow a little bit. What do the dragons have to do with anything? Are people secretly poisoning herdbeasts to lower the dragon population, is that what she's getting at? He says nothing on it. "Ah, she was interested in my thoughts, actually. Didn't know any better than I did what could be happening. They do, I mean, they share the feed and water. But the runners are all fine." Curiosity gets the best of him after that, though, and he adds, "What've dragons got to do with it?" in a cautious, curious and totally not defensive tone. "Ah," Alisha seems visible disappointed there's not more to the story. "Well," the visitor seems to warm up to the idea now she's got an interested - if cautious - audience, "It's like - some people don't get sick, but being around them makes other people sick, right?" She pauses to see if Teomitl's still with her on this theory. "And we all know dragons don't get sick, but what if something in them made say, the herdbeasts sick?" "Like ..." Teomitl is trying to follow this, even if he thinks it's a conspiracy theory. "Oh, well, not like dragon bites because if they bite them they're dead anyway, but. Some dragon-carried condition?" He's sort of getting it, kind of. A little. Maybe. "Wouldn't that have happened before now?" "Yeah, that sounds plausible," Alisha agrees, remaining vague on the details, but convinced on the overall theory. "I'm not sure, I mean - that's why, it'd be helpful to know /where/ it started. When you get the where, you can normally reason out the /how/." "For that matter it could be coming from humans. Or from runners! Maybe the runners /are/ sick." Possibly that was what Alisha meant before, but Teomitl hadn't gotten there before now. "They're just not presenting as sick. That could be. Though I have no clue what it is the beastcraft does to track things. I'd hope they'd have thought to check that." "It - could be," Alisha allows, though she seems oddly reluctant to attribute it to anyone but the dragons. "I'm not really sure what the beastcraft does, either. Normally, we try to quarantine sick animals as soon as possible, and separate the food and water - but in this case it's kind of difficult." "I think they tried their best?" Teomitl uptalks, uncertain. "And we're doing what we can to keep the populations up. They seem to be doing okay /today/, anyway." No sudden dead drops or overdrinking or any other weird behavior besides the bovine who /usually/ picks on him. "Can't really separate water when it's in a lake, though, which is why I was worried. About the water. Which the runners and dragons also drink." "Either way, I guess it's too late now." Alisha glances back at the herd, as if they're going to provide sudden answers, or something. "Unless you move the runners out of the Weyr, I guess. It's not /that/ far to Fort Hold, if they have room to lodge them?" The woman doesn't seem all that certain about that. Teomitl frowns, because doing that would mean -- "I like having the runners here because I like having a job," he tells her honestly, "and herdbeasts, while I'm happy to feed them, are not so much my idea of a good time. Grooming, that is a good time that I am proud to get paid for." The herd mills about and provides no information at all. The bovine who either loves or hates Teomitl snorts at the humans. "Well - if you're looking after the runners, obviously you'd have to go with them," Alisha concludes, a little slowly, like she's unsure how willing Teomitl might be to do so. "I mean, for the sake of the runners." And then it occurs to her: "Do you think Metse will be okay? Maybe I should stable her at the Hold and walk back..?" she glances towards the stables, contemplative. "Oh, I will make sure she receives the finest care," Teomitl promises boldly, giving Alisha a grin. "Pretty lady like her deserves it! She have any children?" Let's not talk about leaving the Weyr, which he's never done, and instead gossip about runners. Alisha looks somewhat reassured, but she still looks as if she's contemplating her earlier proposal. "I appreciate that," she pauses briefly, startled perhaps, or at least surprised, by the compliment. There's a faint fluster to her demeanor as she continues, "She had her first foal last season. He's a handful now - but he'll take after her, good at the long distance." Teomitl's smile smoothes out, but it's absolutely still there. "Congratulations to her, then, and to your family. And perhaps even the father." Another shrug, but this one's a jovial one instead of a puzzled one. "I think the runners are fine, if no harm has befallen them yet." Alisha seems a little - at a loss - as he continues to talk about the runners with such gusto. Faltering smile is followed up by flickered glance at the grounds again - as if expecting something to happen any moment. "/Yet/," she says, pointedly. "Some animals take longer to take to a sickness than others." As if well aware how doom-and-gloom that pronouncement sounds, the woman straightens her shoulders, "But, I guess we can but hope for the best. You sound as if you really enjoy your work." "Yeah." Teomitl nods, and holds his head up a little higher. Of course, with the height difference already between them, he quickly stops doing that and goes back to slouching. "I do. I like animals a lot. It's been a while and none of the runners have shown signs of anything except the usual distaste with changes in weather." "That's good," Alisha actually smiles, genuinely, now. "I like my work, too. But--" she trails off, shifts uncomfortably, and presses on in a different direction, "It's nice to find what you love to do. Are you going to apprentice to the beastcraft?" "Oh, shells, no, I'm too old." Technically, Teomitl is barely too old, but he's still too old! He seems amused by the suggestion, though. "And am kind of a homebody. This is my place. I mean, Fort Weyr, not the feeding grounds, although this is kind of my place now too. I /feel/ like I live here." Alisha looks surprised, giving Teomitl a more careful going over. "I don't think you are," she says, delicately. "I mean, I know most crafts will take a willing, talented apprentice even after a certain age - especially since you've been doing this for - what did you say, a Turn now? That's like the first year of your apprenticeship right there." She does tip her head at Teomitl's latter comment, an unbidden smile rising up. "I understand. But you could always get posted back here, eventually. I don't know - seems a shame to waste talent, that's all." More shrugging from Teomitl. "Eh. Maybe. I've thought about it, ever, but I just don't know if I'd like it. Running a stable isn't a waste, and I might Impress someday, too. Both of my parents are riders," he adds, just to point out that he is not a crazy overambitious person, and riding really is in his blood. "I never had much tolerance for the kind of class you have to sit in quietly." "I don't think, dealing with animals has /any/ classes that are quiet," Alisha says with good natured humor, perhaps backed up by the distinctive animal sounds from beyond the fence. "Oh!" she lets out a surprised exhalation as he admits his parents are riders. "Well - good luck, then. I've never... well, this is my first time in a Weyr," she admits. "It's a little unsettling, but I don't think I'll be here for that long." "You never know, it might grow on you," Teomitl says with an easy smile and a curious look. "What brings you here, anyway? Checking up on the herds?" "Grow on me?" Alisha echoes with a hint of dubiousness. "Maybe. I'm not used to... so many people," she admits, with a slight hunch of her shoulders. "I, ah," her gaze flickers away. "Need to speak to the Weyrleaders, actually. About um, yes, the herds, and all that." She's vague enough and rambling enough that it's still vaguely true, though clear she's not telling the full reason. And Teomitl doesn't press, although her hedging is apparent to him. "Right. Well. I assume you know where to find them." Still smiling all the while, even if his eyes have narrowed a little bit. "Crowds aren't too bad." There's a distinct pause. "...not exactly," Alisha admits. "But I was hoping to at least settle in, maybe bathe first. Wouldn't do to show up all dusty and travelled, I guess." She tugs hair over her shoulder, twisting fingers through it - a nervous gesture, probably, and unconscious for all that. "I'm used to a lot of open land, and just my family. It seems very... noisy here." "Oh, well, yeah, I didn't mean /right now/," Teomitl clarifies, laughing a little. "You'll find the baths okay, I'm sure. Everything is basically that way." Point. "Bowl to the other bowl to the living caverns, basically. It doesn't really get south-er than here. Also, the noise and chaos, you get used to it. Or so I hear. I never noticed it, really." The pointing is helpful, and Alisha's gaze follows in that direction, looking relieved. "It's easy for you, you've lived here all your life," there just may be a slight bristling at his laughter, though it doesn't enter her voice, just in the way she shifts and straightens. "Probably," Teomitl tells her, slouching a little /more/ for all that it shouldn't be possible. "I mean, you'd laugh at me if you took me out to where you were from, because I'd be so nervous about there being so /little/ noise. Wouldn't know what to do with peace and quiet for longer than a day." The dark-haired woman smiles at that. "It's pleasant. Peaceful," Alisha says, more than a hint of prideful reminiscence in her voice. "But.. I suppose you have a point," she concedes. "Maybe you can uh, look out for me, while I'm here?" she suggests, tentatively. "Point me in the right direction, or away from the wrong direction, as it were. Actually, you might know - I'm looking for a rider, a brownrider. Tall, dark hair, in his thirties." She's probably describing a good third of the brownrider population at large. Yep, because Teomitl's first reaction is to stare at her and say: "My father?" Of course, that is the first person he thought of, here, and maybe she /is/ talking about his father. "What's his name? I'd be happy to help." Alisha freezes, and blinks at Teomitl. "Your father?" she echoes, dubious and alarmed all at once. This seems to throw her off, and she clears her throat, looking anywhere but him. "I don't.. I don't know his name. I only caught a, uh, glimpse of him." For some reason that's causing her to fluster, or maybe she just seems particularly frazzled. "Maybe if you uh, pointed him out?" "Did he commit some kind of crime? Because that doesn't sound like my father. He's kind of stupid, but not really inclined toward criminal tendencies," Teomitl, who isn't too close to his father, will still defend him against accusations of whatever Alisha might have seen. "Then again, if he was like, rescuing a drowning baby, that probably wasn't my father either." "Not a crime," Alisha says, cheeks flushed and kind of faltering. It doesn't seem like she was expecting things to go quite this way, judging by the hesitant demeanor. "He uh, I caught him with my sister. She's kind of... she's precocious, but she's still my /sister/, and she's sixteen, and..." she trails off, and if unsure how to proceed any further, especially to him. "I'm sure it's not your father, though," she finishes, rather lamely. Teomitl scrinches up his nose, then looks at the ground and shakes his head. "Well," he says, to the ground, "I was actually afraid you were going to say that, but didn't want to straight-up /ask/, and -- well, it might have been my father." Teomitl looks back up at Alisha and his expression is a little disgusted. "I can go ask my mother if she knows anything about it." The fact that he's speaking to someone holdbred who will probably assume his parents are married or something like it does not occur to him, and so he isn't considering her reaction closely. "/Oh/." Alisha breathes a little exhale of surprise and dismay. She stares at him and well, it's probably an apt descriptor to say she's shocked, wordless a moment as she glances down at the ground, flustered. "Your mother," she echoes, faintly. "Um, well. I'm sure we needn't involve her - I mean it's unfair to her really, it's your father that really, I'd hoped to, to..." she trails off as if, now it's come down to it, she doesn't know quite what the rest of that sentence entails. "My mother would be completely unsurprised that he didn't check a girl's age before hooking up. He wouldn't ever force himself on anyone, I don't think, but affairs are kind of ... he wouldn't really be concerned with something like age and my mother would not be anything but mildly disapproving." Teomitl is not ashamed of his parents' on-and-off relationship, nor is he ashamed of having a billion half siblings -- all on his father's side. "I just don't think he's left here much recently so it's just as likely to have /not/ been him." The stablehand's further elaborations cause another alarmed, confused sort of look from Alisha. "You mean he's done it.. before?" The hold-bred girl looks decidedly off-balance, taking a deep breath. "Well I.. I mean, if you can check in with them, maybe. I wouldn't want to accuse him falsely, but I.. I just want to be sure she's taken care of, if, if something should happen. She's supposed to be, well, my father will, I think, arrange a marriage for her in the near future. We can't have this.. hanging over her." "I totally understand," Teomitl lies smoothly, because he totally doesn't understand. But he's trying! "And I don't know, really, like I said I don't really know him? But according to my mother if a girl seems interested he'll go for it even if she's young. He likes sex, doesn't have qualms about it, really. I can understand why your family might have qualms about how he handled that, though. And I'm not trying to say that your sister caused it, no matter who it was. Some folks really will just -- insist on things. Force themselves. He wouldn't. But I'm sure there's somebody who would." "Well, she.. Hariya that is.. I mean she, she looked willing. She tried to tell my da afterwards she wasn't, but she'd just say that to try and save face, we all know what she's like, though." Alisha looks somewhat more at ease as Teomitl expresses understanding, and in her desperation completely overlooks the fact that he's lying. Though the more the stablehand talks, the more she seems flustered. /Especially/ when he starts casually discussing his father's sex life. Being totally calm about it doesn't mean that Teomitl is /pleased/ about it. "Well. I'm not judging. I'm sure it'll work out okay; I can try and help with your inquiry. It might be someone my father /knows/, anyway. Because I think you described about a quarter of the Weyr. I wouldn't be able to know which one it was without any more details." Alisha seems to take some strength from his equanimity, at least, a slow breath escaping her as she smoothes down her shirt. "If I saw him I'd probably, I mean, maybe recognize him. But it was.. it was so quick, and I was shocked, and I only really saw him from kind of the side.." she trails off, probably not needing to go into further detail. She hitches her shoulders, though, smiling tremulously. "I'm grateful for the help, though, whatever... however it turns out." "Not a problem," Teomitl tells her, and it really isn't. He looks entirely casual and cool about the entire thing. "I'm easily found, um, here. Basically all the time. My mother's name is Xochitl, she might be someone to talk to also. Her dragon's kind of -- bright colored, Southern fruity shades? Big headknobs." Alisha looks kind of.. uneasy... at the thought of talking to his mother. "Well, I'm not sure I should.. bother her, really." The draconic description as likely as not goes over her head - all dragons look basically the same, after all, when you've never seen one that closely before. "But, uh, I really should go wash up. That way, you said?" She stoops to collect her carisak, glancing in the direction he pointed earlier. "That way." Teomitl waves his hand toward the Southern Bowl, and repeats, "Bowl to bowl to living caverns. It's pretty easy to find. And really, try to just go with the flow -- /everything/ here is different from what you know, I bet, and whoever messed with your sister, we'll find out who it was and let your family deal with it appropriately." His smile now is soft, friendly, welcoming. (Rare.) Reassured as much by his smile as his words, Alisha responds in kind, though hers is, perhaps, a little tremulous. "Thank you. I'll try to.. go with the flow, as you say." She doesn't really sound all that convinced, truth be told. Swinging the sack over her shoulder, she heads in the indicated direction, her strides growing more confident as she crosses the bowl. |
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