View source for Logs:Charms and Hats and Hides, Oh My!

{{Log
|who=Edyis, Z'kiel
|what=An exchange of hats, hair care accessories, and conversation occurs during a visit to Ahtzudaeth's ledge.
|involves=High Reaches Weyr
|custom=21D 10M 38T I10, autumn morning
|day=21
|month=10
|turn=38
|IP=Interval
|IP2=10
|gamedate=2015.09.13
|mentions=K'del, Mielline, Irianke,
|type=Log
|ooc=Feel free to edit, correct, and alter away!
|icons-new=Icon Edyis Excited.jpg, Icon Z'kiel.jpg,
|desc=>---< Ahtzudaeth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr >--------------------------------<

  If one can see beyond the grit, grime, and guano of disuse of this large, 
  square ledge, it's quite a find. What it lacks in cleanliness it makes up 
  for in size and charms hidden under the coating of dirt. The stone        
  underfoot is solid and the ledge's design helps it shed snow and rain.    
  Most surprising of all, a nearly complete set of chess pieces, each about 
  three feet high. Under the grime is a fading pattern of white stone and   
  redwort-stained sections that make up the board for these oversized game  
  pieces                                                                    

 -----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
  Edyis        F  21  5'4"  athletic, brown hair, brown eyes              0s 
  Z'kiel       M  21  6'3"  lean, black hair, green eyes                 38s
 ---------------------------------< Objects >--------------------------------
  [Ahtzudaeth]                                                                
 ----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
                                Inner Weyr  Sky                             
>--------------------------------------< 21D 10M 38T I10, autumn morning >---<
|log=<< Incoming. >> Akluseth's watery tenor reaches on salt-sea winds, as the brown buzzes by the ledge, intending to land in the second pass. << We come bearing terrible purple hats. Well the hat's aren't terrible, but I'm convinced one of Ed's sisters is color blind. >>

<< Ah! Most excellent. Give me just a moment... >> Ahtzudaeth isn't out on the ledge - but as soon as the greeting comes, he's right there, claiming one section of it and leaving the rest free and clear for Akluseth to land on. The ledge is cleaned, but yet to be re-stained; that's just one more project of many yet to be dealt with in the coming turns. << Welcome, brother-mine! >> There's a throaty chortle for the description of the hats, rich mirth bubbling up in effervescent hues. << I am certain that they have plenty of character, regardless. He will wear them happily. >> Of Z'kiel, there is no immediate sign. He's probably inside somewhere.

The squares draw the brown's interest when they land, Edyis slipping down, slipping the satchel from his straps, and removing them, before slinging it over her shoulder. << It's like that odd board Ed keeps in her room. >> Studying the blocks and pieces curiously. << She could probably help with painting them. I think. This is bigger than the other one though. >> Edyis, must figure that the dragons will make announcements, since she's boldly venturing inside without any further thought or warning.

<< There are pieces, too, >> Ahtzudaeth explains with a gape-maw grin, while an image of the chess pieces flickers into being on the mirrors of his mind. << Those are inside for now. He must find someone who can paint them properly - and then we can move them out here. >> He considers for a moment, then: << Does your Edyis know how the game works? Perhaps she would be willing to teach us. >> And Edyis will discover, quite promptly that, no, not all dragons announce things when they're embroiled in conversation. Either that, or Z'kiel doesn't bother to listen - which is just as probable. He's in mid-change, with his riding leathers laid out on the ridiculous-looking bed. At least he's wearing linen trousers, even if the rest of him is laid bare. As for the weyr, it's remarkably clean and well-kept - and well-stocked with dragon-care items. One one of the wallows - the guest wallow, perhaps - a large wooden box can be seen. There's a grunt from the man by way of greeting, even if his back is toward the entrance of the weyr.

Surely she's seen shirtless men plenty of times, and yet, there's still that creep of crimson that touches her ears and cheeks. << She does, and would probably be willing once she's done turning pink. Imagine if our hides changed color with the ease theirs do. >> Akluseth's breezy tenor articulates. "Um, sorry. I ah, well, you never picked up, hats." Articulation thy name is Edyis.

To his credit, Z'kiel doesn't comment on that pinkening - that is, after he's turned around. There's just another grunt, followed a moment later with a jerk of his head toward the wallow with the box on it. "That's yours." A beat. "Don't apologize. Been busy," is his explanation. "Better now that the golds aren't glowing any more." A short flight of steps is all that separates the human part of the weyr from the dragon part and they're easily devoured by two long-legged steps. << Oh ho! Wouldn't that be interesting? I do wonder what color we would turn. It would have to be some manner of green, I suspect, >> Ahtzudaeth muses brightly. << Although, I would say our eyes do that far better than their skin does. >>

''He'' may not comment, but his turning around doesn't do much to lessen the creep of crimson in her cheeks. Still. "Um, they went a little bit crazy." Her sisters, she must mean, since the satchel she offers in his direction is stuffed full of knit caps in wild colors and varying designs. Amongst the probable eyesores are a few of decent color and design. << True enough, I suppose. >> Of Eye colors. "Hopefully Niahvth doesn't stick to the once a turn thing." Edyis mutters, then, only moving to the box when he accepts or if he accepts the satchel. "You sure you want to part with them? It ''can'' grow back you know." She would know, given hers is well on its way to restoring the length it had prior to weyrlinghood.

Nor is there any effort made on his part to make things easier on Edyis. Z'kiel takes the satchel readily enough and moves to take a seat on the wallow while he opens it up to take a look. One eye twitches a little; on the ledge, Ahtzudaeth's chortling can practically be felt. "Evidently," he grates out after a moment. He pulls out one of the more obnoxiously patterned ones and dangles it on a fingertip. The shift in conversation elicits a displeased sound and a grimace. No words on the rising of golds; he'll let that sour expression say it all. Eventually: "Not growing it back out again. So. They're yours. A couple of new ones are on the top; the ones in the bag." The box isn't just full of charms, though there are plenty - metal, bone, glass, and shell; carved in shapes or just plain beads. There are some bells and a few other noisy items. There are also plenty of ribbons in a range of bright colors, with some head bands and the like. It's the bag, though, that might be of some interest: an enameled tunnelsnake charm, an enameled brown dragon charm, and a couple of engraved tunnelsnake teeth and claws.

"Anyone ever tell you you are incurably stubborn?" She asks with an eyebrow lift. That pink creep, grows a little more pronounced at the one he pulls, out, eyeing the pom poms coating the entire surface in kaleidoscopic color. "Gerta's probably. She likes to experiment, frequently. Greta isn't much of a knitter, but she tends to be less, bold, with her color choices." As her fingers stir the contents, her eyes curious over the charms. Her fingertips encircle the tunnel snake charm, dark brown eyes studying it curiously. "They all have a story don't they?" She asks then holding up the snake charm, dragon charm and the engraved teeth expectantly.

The pom poms are flicked at, the hat turned over, and the whole thing is set aside so he can pull the next out. Z'kiel snorts softly, but the sound isn't judgmental. It might just be because of that still-chortling bronze. "They'll work," is high enough praise - and probably a good indicator that, yes, they will be worn, horrible ones and all. He cuts a glance askance to her when she starts picking through the charms. He stops pulling hats out and just watches, his expression unreadable. "Your hunt. Your dragon. Your kill." In that order, 'snake, dragon, and teeth. "The rest," he rolls a shoulder, "yeah. They have stories. Old ones, some of them. Some aren't mine to tell."

Edyis can't help but smile when he says they will work. "As much as I'm sure Gerta will beam with pride to have that monstrosity worn, you can just pick out the ones that don't look like yarn barf if you'd like. No one would blame you. She appreciated the practice." His explanation has her looking over the charms again, more appreciatively. "They are beautiful." She says at length, gingerly tucking them back amid the rest of the treasures. She studies him, then, something unreadable in her expression. "You still had teeth, from then? I still have the necklace." Tucked in a box on a shelf awaiting an occasion that might merit being worn." Of the other stories, she nods thoughtfully. "Just like your dancing. I hope you don't mind sharing them every now and again. The stories." She looks at the charms again, arrayed. "Kind of feel like a thief stealing them all." The inflection might suggest the stories attached to the objects rather than the objects themselves.

"Good. Could even visit her to show them, if you'd like," but that's probably (okay, most likely) a suggestion of Ahtzudaeth's that made it past Z'kiel's usually rigid filter. He pinches the bridge of his nose in a gesture that he'd adopted from weyrlinghood - more of the bronze leaking out, as it were - and grunts. "Or not." Probably not. He'll just let that go with a shake of his head to focus on what's more important: namely, the charms and the stories attached. Of the teeth, "Had to get them carved. Took a while. But. They have plenty of teeth to work with. Only put about half, maybe, in that bracelet." He picks through the hats again and picks one that isn't entirely an eyesore to pull on his head. Testing, of course. ''Hnnnh.'' "Sure. Just ask. I'll tell you what ones I know. Better that they go to someone that will enjoy the stories." A sidelong look is angled her way. "Should probably be written down somewhere."

Edyis laughs at the phrase that escapes his filter and the gesture that follows. "You are welcome to, but I should warn you she's a little, boy crazy. I'm told it is something that happens at that age, but I don't ever remember being that way personally." Grinning and dubious all at once. She tries not to giggle, and it probably has very little to do with the hat itself since it seems to be one of the incredibly functional design in Reachian colors. The idea of writing, though spark's a change in her expression, a wide grin blooming. "If I wrote them all down, would it be something you'd like to have?" She wonders, fingertips already twitching eagerly at the thought.

"It happens," but whether of girls being boy crazy or of dragon-seepage, it's hard to say. Z'kiel isn't about to dig into it too deeply - nor does he retract the offer, since it's already been made. Ahtzudaeth, on the other hand... << Oh, wonderful. Akluseth, would you let us know when would be best to visit Edyis's family and thank them personally for their gifts? >> This seems to be happening unbeknownst to Z'kiel, who tilts his head ''just'' a little at Edyis's change in expression. He ''does'' smile at that, though the smile is so small and fleeting that it might easily be missed. "Good. Thought you might like to do that." A grunt and then he's looking at the satchel of hats again. "No. They're all up here," he taps the side of his head. "But. Maybe you could keep it. Or put a copy in the records. Could be good to have somewhere for others."

<< Sure, you mean the twins right? Might wanna be careful though, Gerta's all glowy all the time. Kinda drives Ed nuts. And not the little guy that wants to sail big ships? >> It's possble Akluseth has trouble keeping track himself of people who fall into the family category. << At least if we are talking blood relatives. >> His tail swishing perhaps at the idea of a smaller human who thinks he's awesome. Her expression twists a little crestfallen. "Mm, yes, I can make a copy for the records room." She agrees, though thoughtfully adds, "Sometimes it's easier even though everything is up here, to have it sorted out somewhere else." The lid closes and her fingers drum lightly against the box. << He makes it difficult to do nice things for doesn't he. >> Akluseth wonders oh so helpfully.

"What you do with the stories, that's up to you," Z'kiel replies "All I can do is give them to you." He pushes off from the wallow and starts stowing the hats in the satchel again. He glances around the weyr briefly, as if to sort out where they'll go - but his choices are clearly limited to the smallish chamber he came out of. << Yes, I believe those ones, >> Ahtzudaeth considers, with thoughtful bubbles and motes of light. He's not entirely sure himself, but at least he's ''trying''. The bronze shifts a little on the ledge, just enough to give a bit of a stretch. << He is utterly insufferable about that sort of thing, >> he replies, his tone heavy with empathy. << He ''would'' like a copy, but I think he doesn't know how to say he does. >> Within: "I have those hides, too. Should be right there," he cocks a thumb back at one of the columns, where several carefully rolled tunnelsnake hides have been stacked. "Not sure if they'll work, but they're yours."

<< They live at Weaverhall. With any luck Greta will have gone back to Keroon. >> He says about the girls, but there's an empathetic burst of silver fishes swimming amid the bubbles. << Seems like you are making good progress though. >> Of Z'kiel's more irritating habits. << She's noticed he's somewhat less stonefaced. Either that or she's simply learned to interpret the language of man grunting. >> The brown is happy to speculate. << She'll make him one, too. She's stubborn like that, and she appreciates the thoughtfulness of the gifts. He has more hair stuff than she ever did. >> There's a smile, then as she moves over to stake claim to the hides, testing the texture. "Color is better than I thought it might be given the type of hide." Fingertips moving lightly over the surface testing it's flexibility. "Easier to come by than herdbeast or wherhide. This should do nicely." For what she doesn't specify. "We can go hunting some time again if you like, I can show you how to treat hide for parchment. The grain of this feels like it might do well for that."

<< Ah, excellent. Thank you, Akluseth. I will be sure to relay that to Z'kiel, >> before he forgets, of course. Not ''now'', but soon enough. << He is... well. He is nothing if not difficult, >> the bronze muses good-naturedly, his throaty laughter bubbling up to illuminate his words. << I am grateful that yours is willing to suffer through it. There are few, it seems, that are willing to do so. >> Ahtzudaeth isn't disappointed, though; mostly, he's just... ''amused''. << He has much, much more than all of that. Jewelry, fine clothing- >> Uh oh. Z'kiel, oblivious, moves over to help a little with the hides. "Not as big as either of those," he'll note of the hides in comparison to herdbeasts and whersport. They're plentiful, though, and he'll nod at that. He grunts and straightens. "Due for another hunt soon," he says after a beat. "Those are yours. I'll get more and treat them if you're willing to teach me how you want them done. Southern tunnelsnakes look brighter than those." He sucks his teeth. "Could go down that way some time for those."

The memory must be plucked from Edyis's mind, the dancing and glittery costume from the only time she's seen the man dance. << Like those? >> Amusement, curiosity, all the key ingredients for trouble, churn in Akluseth's waters. "I will take you up on that, I end up near Monaco a lot, there's a few places that might interest you as a hunting ground. Can't wear Reachian knots that way though, at least not without attracting the wrong kind of attention. Next rest day maybe?" She seems to consider. That those scars are observed again, is perhaps inevitable, but she glances back to the ledge once she catches herself.

<< Ah, just like those! >> Ahtzudaeth seems pleased that the memory is there - and isn't one he's had to pull from Z'kiel's stubborn brain. << There are many more, though. I think he rather misses dancing, but he's often so busy. >> Lamentable, that, but he rolls right over it with a tingling sense of ''hope''. << Someday, he will be able to dance again. >> ''Hnnnh.'' "Sure. Should be getting a rest day soon. I'll let you know." The lack of knots will likely suit him well enough; for that detail, there's only a nod and a slight 'snrt' of a sound. He eventually retreats - if briefly - to take the bag into his quarters and drop it off on the bed. "Could find other game out there, too. Not just 'snakes."

<< He could teach others to dance. >> Akluseth suggests with a flick of his tail. << Doesn't really help with time crunching though. >> Planning is his lifemate's forte after all. Edyis nods, leaning against one of the stone walls. "Never hunted anything bigger than a snake, but if you think having me along won't hurt if you are hunting something larger." She seems game to try at least. "Hows Alpine?"

<< He ''could'', >> is brightly echoed with enthusiasm. It also sounds like a terrible plan in the making. Or a great one. Ahtzudaeth might lean toward the latter in this particular case. << In time. In due time, yes. >> He retreats into his thoughts for a time, with aromatic smoke filling the void. "Not much different, in some ways," he replies with a one-shouldered shrug. "Teamwork is the best way. Might just have you flush it out at first. Teach you how to use a bow." Disconnected notions, but still related. He mulls it over. "We'll figure it out then. Won't do anything bigger until you're good with tunnelsnakes." As for Alpine: "It's good. Keeps me busy. Keeps him busy, too. Better than having idle hands all the time." A beat. "How's Snowdrift?"

Edyis listens, nodding. "A bow huh?" A smile spreads slowly, "It would be interesting to try at least." Talk of snowdrift earns something of a small frown. "I'd been meaning to catch my wingleader try to figure out where we were supposed to be fitting in with snowdrift, but then K'del's incident happened and she's so busy with being the acting weyrleader. Well she's got more important issues to deal with, maybe when K'del comes back, I'll get a chance to ask. Akluseth loves it though, he has his buddies and things to occupy his energy.

"Cross or long or short," Z'kiel lists off and sucks his teeth. "Crossbow first. Easier." Relatively, anyway. Then he's listening and there's a slight furrowing of his brow for all of it. "Guess it's easier for us; not much need to worry about where we fit. We just do what we're supposed to do." No judgment there, though; it's mostly a thoughtful thing. After a beat, "It probably won't be much longer. Heard it was bad but he's healing well." Translation: Ahtzudaeth's been nosy.

"You are the instructor, so you decide where we start." She determines then. She lifts a shoulder, "Alpine seems to be a good wing. They did a lot for Nabol back in the day." Which might say something about how Edyis judges moral fibre. "He looked awful when we visited. I've been meaning to visit again, He's sort of unbreakable. Manages to keep a sense of humor despite all the chaos." It's a little in awe, that tone in her voice.

''Hnnnh.'' "So I've heard. H'kon's a good man. The wing seems solid. Good." Which is satisfactory enough for him. If he's visited - or not - will remain unspoken for now. Instead: "He has to be strong, if he's been Weyrleader here so long," Z'kiel finally intones. He sucks his teeth and looks past Edyis and toward Ahtzudaeth for a time - but whatever it is, whatever it was, it passes. "He'll be back soon. Hopefully they find the one that did it." Before he does, is likely a safe implication.

Edyis nods, but the thought seems to have put her in a mood. She pushes off the wall, then, clutching her new treasures. "Truth can't stay hidden forever." Her mouth screwing into an odd shape with the thought. "Thank you." She breathes at last, offering a warm smile to the bronzerider. "Feel free to swing by the ledge any time after drills, you can tell a story and I'll even feed you. If you are nice." The last possibly a private joke. "I've duties to tend to though."

There's a slight shake of his head and a motion toward the entrance of the weyr. Z'kiel will, at least, walk her out - and carry anything that she might not be able to manage, for that matter. "Any time," he replies and ducks his chin in a shallow nod. "You're welcome any time. Ahtzudaeth wouldn't have it any other way." The suggestion of food and stories elicits another nod, a bit deeper this time. "Pick a charm. Next time we meet, I'll tell you the story of it. We're working on getting a few more things for here. Maybe next time you visit, there will be food." One corner of his mouth twitches. "Nice or not."
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