Bot: Text replace - "HRW Clutch 38" to "Clutch 129"

2016-01-21T21:05:29Z

Text replace - "HRW Clutch 38" to "Clutch 129"

Roz: Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, K'del/ST{{!}}Aisari |what=Aisari finally meets Farideh. |where=Farideh and Roszadyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=12..."

2015-10-02T01:08:33Z

Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, K'del/ST{{!}}Aisari |what=Aisari finally meets Farideh. |where=Farideh and Roszadyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=12..."

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{{Log
|who=Farideh, K'del/ST{{!}}Aisari
|what=Aisari finally meets Farideh.
|where=Farideh and Roszadyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
|involves=High Reaches Weyr
|day=2
|month=12
|turn=38
|IP=Interval
|IP2=10
|gamedate=2015.10.01
|quote="You're as beautiful as they say you are, and you ''saved'' me. I'll do whatever you need me to."
|mentions=Faryn
|type=Log
|icons-new=Icon farideh vivid.jpg,
|log=Though the night is deep and the air is cold at High Reaches Weyr, there's ''light'' and ''warmth'' in the junior weyrwoman's weyr, and only the crackle of the flames eating through wood interrupts the noiselessness. It ''might'' be surprising that the goldrider is there, ''waiting'', in the antechamber, sitting in the chair facing the entryway, fingers drumming soundlessly on one cushioned arm. She looks regal; she looks bored.

It's been a ''thrilling'' not to mention ''overwhelming'' night, and being dropped off outside Farideh's weyr does not exactly do anything to diminish either of those things. Aisari is shivering as, on uncertain feet, she steps into the antechamber. Those pale eyes widen as she catches sight of Farideh, her stance immediate dropping into an uneasy curtsey. "I--" she begins, and then falters.

The fingers, moments before tapping idly, cease their movements when the girl enters, and a certain wariness takes over Farideh's features when she curtsies. Even ''she'' hesitates; something in that gesture giving her pause. "Aisari?" she asks, pushing herself up from the chair. "I hope it wasn't an overtly taxing trip here." She's still wearing her cautiousness on her face as she walks across the room towards the other, younger girl, her fingers knitting together.

"I'd never actually ''ridden'' a dragon before," admits Aisari with a certain amount of hushed reverence. Never ridden a dragon, and here she is, in a goldrider's weyr! "You're-- you're Farideh. You're as beautiful as they say you are, and you ''saved'' me. I'll do whatever you need me to." Her hands clasp together in front of her, the small sack of belongings over her shoulder drooping uneasily.

"No? Was it what you thought it would be?" As she walks, Farideh is studying the blonde, from toes to the top of her head, and doesn't appear to be hiding it either. "I'm Farideh," she confirms, with the barest of smiles for the compliment. "Thank you-- Aisari? Do you think they'll come looking for you?" Coming to a stopping point, a couple feet shy of the holder, she shifts her scrutiny to the girl's face, searching while she listens.

The scrutiny is clearly unnerving, but then again, what ''hasn't'' been unnerving this evening? Aisari stays still, stoic and sure, though her eyes follow Farideh's progress with uneasy hesitation. Perhaps she's worried she won't pass muster; perhaps she's worried she'll be sent back, an immigrant turned away at Ellis Island. "It was ''amazing''," she declares, clasping those hands to her chest. And, "I don't know. My father will-- he'll be angry." Now, her gaze drops towards her feet. "But no one will know that I'm here. I'll be safe. I'll ''work''. I'll Stand for your eggs, if you'll let me. You need candidates, don't you?"

Aisari doesn't get thrown out, ''yet''! "If anyone ''asks'', where will you say you're from? How did you get here? What is your ''name''?" All relevant questions, it would seem, repeated in patient, gentle tones, that are nevertheless insistent. "No one knows that you're here ''now''," Farideh sighs, staring at the other girl sadly. "We do and you may, but you might think about--" One hand reaches out, gesturing to the other girl's blonde hair. "Cutting your hair." Then, there's a brief pause, and she gives the other girl a smile. "We are putting a lot on the line to help you. We'll do what we must to-- not get caught. Do you understand what I'm saying, Aisari?"

It's plain, from Aisari's questions, that she hasn't thought of ''any'' of these things. One hand lifts uneasily to her hair, the other still clutched close to her chest. "I-- I do. I don't want you to get in trouble. I ''don't''. I'll do whatever you need me to, even cut my hair. Even... Should I be Sara? Or should it be completely different? I've never been anywhere but Tillek, I don't know..." There's the hint of tears, now, within those pale blue eyes. Help her Farideh; you're her only hope!

"Would Sara be a name you could respond to easily? You could be Aisa, or Risa, or-- anything similar enough. It would be mighty fishy if you never answered to your ''name''," Farideh replies, not without ''some'' amusement coloring her voice. Her arms cross loosely over her torso as her chin comes down in a resounding nod. "It will do, for now. Do you have any skills? You'll have to come with ''some'' kind of story. For the now and for the ''if''."

"Risa," repeats Aisari, picking up on that name without a beat. "I like that. I'll be Risa. It's the same but different, isn't it?" Her fingers continue to touch her hair, that long, likely never-cut mane that she plainly cares a great deal about. Still-- she has her priorities. "I can cook and clean and launder and... oh, ''everything''. I've been keeping house for my father since my mother died. I don't know what he'll do without me." It casts a shadow across her expression, but only for a moment.

It's not ''her'' story to tell, but somehow the goldrider looks mollified as she listens to the girl talk and accept her now-coming-true future. "Risa," Farideh says the new girl's name like it's ''always'' been her name. "I think it would be wise to consider taking you on as an assistant, for now. I have ''one'', but she's not as keen on all of the more domestic skills. That way, it would make it ''hard'' to anyone to bother you overmuch. Perhaps we can say you're a friend of a cousin, who came highly recommended." Her father? Well, that's not ''Farideh's'' concern.

"I suppose it's a good thing my father was strict about my upbringing," says the newly-named Risa, after a moment's pause. "Else I might speak like the fisherfolk." It's true: her accent does not ''immediately'' brand her as Tillekian, though there is the occasional drawled cadence all the same. "I'll be the best assistant I possibly can be!" she promises, faithfully. "And I'll cut my hair, and I'll-- I'll change everything, just to make sure. The friend of your cousin." For a moment, it looks like she might spring forward to hug the goldrider, but she restrains herself. "All your things will ''shine'', I promise."

"That ''does'' help," Farideh responds, contemplatively. "You won't have to work ''too'' hard. Faryn will be able to help you, and I'm not a completely unscrupulous boss." Her mouth stretches into another smile, her posture relaxing ''some''. "Welcome to High Reaches, Risa. No doubt you'll fit in just fine. I'll speak to Jounine about getting you set up-- and you'll want to find Faryn to get a rundown of how our schedules flows, but otherwise-- go have a tour. Enjoy what time you have left before--" Before she turns into someone else. And the carriage into a pumpkin.

Risa's nod is earnest and eager; she is, without question, eager to please, eager to be useful, just ''eager''. "I will," she promises. "'"Thank you'', weyrwoman. ''Thank you'', ''thank you'', ''thank you''." Perhaps the thanks will settle down. But... perhaps not. For now, at least she can follow direction, turning to head from the antechamber and find-- thankfully-- her way to the caverns. ''Someone'' will show her the way.

The girl's eagerness doesn't transfer as easily, and Farideh is left staring after Risa with growing trepidation. "Shit," the goldrider says, under her breath. It's ''slow'' moving, but she does eventually walk to the couch and sit down, her head falling in her hands. ''Regret'' is heavy on her mind, and shoulders, the rest of the night.
|Categories=HRW Clutch 38 Logs, General Logs
}}

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 The girl's eagerness doesn't transfer as easily, and Farideh is left staring after Risa with growing trepidation. "Shit," the goldrider says, under her breath. It's ''slow'' moving, but she does eventually walk to the couch and sit down, her head falling in her hands. ''Regret'' is heavy on her mind, and shoulders, the rest of the night.
-|Categories=HRW Clutch 38 Logs, General Logs
+|Categories=Clutch 129 Logs, General Logs
 }}

Logs:Regret - Revision history

Bot: Text replace - "HRW Clutch 38" to "Clutch 129"

Roz: Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, K'del/ST{{!}}Aisari |what=Aisari finally meets Farideh. |where=Farideh and Roszadyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=12..."