Logs:Horizons - Revision history

Bot at 21:10, 21 January 2016

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K'del at 09:18, 23 March 2015

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Roz at 01:53, 16 February 2015

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Roz at 20:39, 22 January 2015

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Bot at 08:14, 5 July 2014

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Satiet at 01:14, 22 November 2011

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Riorde at 01:13, 22 November 2011

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 | quote = "Lessons're important. They get to the one where they tell you not to go haring off with strange brownriders?"
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 | mentions = Teris
 | icons = riorde beach.jpg, taikrin.jpg
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 | who = Riorde, Taikrin

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 | who = Riorde, Taikrin
 | where = Lower Caverns, HRW and Southern Beach

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 | where = Lower Caverns, HRW and Southern Beach
 | what = It's sunny but Riorde won't go outside. Taikrin offers to take her on a clandestine trip instead.
-| when = Day 23, Month 2, Turn 26
+|day= 23
 | gamedate = 2011.07.06
-| quote = Lessons're important. They get to the one where they tell you not to go haring off with strange brownriders?
+| quote = "Lessons're important. They get to the one where they tell you not to go haring off with strange brownriders?"
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 Riorde's eyebrows arch to convey her incredulity when Taikrin says the unthinkable. She looks out at the water, no longer squinting under the shade of the canopy. Settling down next to the rider outweighs her desire to throw herself headlong into the warm waves so she saves it for later and arranges herself alongside Taikrin in a lazy, sandy sprawl. "That would be..." She doesn't come up with an appropriate word. "Something. You should have heard some of after Ee-yov--" Riorde gives up on the name. "That gold flew. It was all, 'my husband slept with a man,' and 'my wife slept with a ''woman'',' and 'my daughter's ruined for marriage' - bet there'll be a load of babies. But not me," she adds hastily, like that needs to be said.
- "Kinda wish I could'a stayed, you know?" Taikrin raises an eyebrow, implications clear. "'Cept it was real important we made sure Iskiveth and Teris left clear, and then Szad really wanted t'go with her since I wouldn't let him chase after Iovniath, so--" It's sort of got the sound of a Pernese soap opera... at least as much as Riorde's tale. "Poor sots. As if flight-sex even ''counted'' for anything." Which apparently, in Taikrin's estimation, it doesn't. "Anyways, ain't nobody offered to take 'em between? Solve that problem right quick. And-- good. Girl like you's too pretty to be havin' babies."
+"Kinda wish I could'a stayed, you know?" Taikrin raises an eyebrow, implications clear. "'Cept it was real important we made sure Iskiveth and Teris left clear, and then Szad really wanted t'go with her since I wouldn't let him chase after Iovniath, so--" It's sort of got the sound of a Pernese soap opera... at least as much as Riorde's tale. "Poor sots. As if flight-sex even ''counted'' for anything." Which apparently, in Taikrin's estimation, it doesn't. "Anyways, ain't nobody offered to take 'em between? Solve that problem right quick. And-- good. Girl like you's too pretty to be havin' babies."
 Riorde gets a look of pleased embarrassment, unused to the idea of herself in this light. Still listening, she drops her gaze and idly watches the sand she sifts through her fingers, digging a shallow hole and depositing the sand in front of it. "Oh, probably. I keep forgetting about -- that. And I ''entirely'' agree." The babies part, not the pretty part. Firmly, "No babies for me."

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 | mentions = Teris
 | icons = riorde beach.jpg, taikrin.jpg
-| log =
+| log = The rare, sunny day has driven a great many of the weyrfolk outside today, despite the chill in the early afternoon air. Taikrin is one of those -- or rather, she ''was''. Now she's returning to the caverns, wearing nothing but a long-sleeved shirt and loose pants, and ''steaming''. Literally. Her cheeks are flushed bright pink, and she's visibly a little sweaty as she flops down right in the entrance of the cavern to wrestle off her snowy, muddy boots.
 The rare, sunny day has driven a great many of the weyrfolk outside today, despite the chill in the early afternoon air. Taikrin is one of those -- or rather, she ''was''. Now she's returning to the caverns, wearing nothing but a long-sleeved shirt and loose pants, and ''steaming''. Literally. Her cheeks are flushed bright pink, and she's visibly a little sweaty as she flops down right in the entrance of the cavern to wrestle off her snowy, muddy boots.
 The islanders aren't used to a life lived indoors, shut away from the wind and the sea. Even when they took to their caves, it was only as forced reprieve from the elements, lasting only as long as was necessary and often not even that long when hunger or necessity or cabin-fever got the best of them. Thus most of the exile-weyrfolk have piled outdoors along with the just weyrfolk-weyrfolk, and thus it is all the stranger that Riorde has chosen to hole up inside, claiming a two-seater sofa and burying her nose in a book. Perhaps it's the relative solitude that appealed to her. Perhaps something else.