Difference between revisions of "Logs:Southern Plots and More"

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr

Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings.

Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed.

"Given; but every day, in every way, yer gettin' better 'n better..." Alida notes drolly back to K'zin, then taking her last couple of bites of chili, the cornbread nipped into after it drawing a faint frown from the blonde. "Gonna miss this stuff..." is murmured, the bluie already having decided where the wind of Hold tithings will blow. Aishani's eyeroll is greeted with a slightly outraged seeming, "*Honestly*. He's got a mouth on him... wit like a club with razors stuck inta' it." *She* ought to know. Word of non-grainy stuff is met with a nod, and a muttered, "Maybe that's somethin' 'Reaches oughta' take up down south. Y'know, maybe some riders given that kinda' bent, whether from age 'r interest: scrape out some acres, fence 'em off, plant our own grains. Rotate riders through the season fer tendin' things." Shrug. She's talking out of her ass, but hey, why not. For word of professionalism, there's a judicious bob of pale head.

"History project," K'zin answers between a swallow and another mouth-filling bite. After the next swallow, "I'll tell you all about it when I come speak with you. Ras might even fill Iesaryth in beforehand. I know how he loves to share with her. And I don't think he has in a while." But he's not always privy to such things. As the conversation turns to the available gatherables of Southern and the idea of farming, the bronzer seems to lose interest, his eyes scanning the still packed cavern. The blizzard without must not be letting up with the way people are still cramming in for dinner, and some staying longer than they should with seats so few. It's a miracle that the one at their small table hasn't been snatched up yet. But maybe Aishani's aura is working again to deter those who don't know her current companions. His attention is back to the conversation when it turns back to the new craft position under debate, "I can see how some might be worried mixing politics with Healing, but don't they have to take some kind of oath not to let that kind of things impact them? I can't imagine Mads denying care to anyone," But then, Madilla isn't 'all healers'.

Dryly, "Don't let the Holders hear that talk, Alida. They might like to say they don't need us, but I get the impression they don't love the idea of us not needing them. You're not the first to say something of the like, though." And unlikely to be the last, so early in an Interval. Aishani seems to be done her dinner, plate and wineglass and cutlery stacked up, and she adds her napkin before shrugging on her jacket, with its huge fur collar. The idea of K'zin's project has her arching those brows again, but she just gives one of her enigmatic smiles, echoing, "History. I will see how I, so long at High Reaches, can help." Not that she doesn't seem to know things, or have certain ties in the past. As she pushes back her chair to stand, "Oaths can be broken, people can lie. Thankfully, none of our healers are that sort, and our Weyrhealer is most certainly not." She'd say more but just stops, offers another smile, and nods to the pair as she gathers her plates. "If you'll excuse me. Have Rasavyth let Iesaryth know when you're looking. And she's always interested in being informed." Like rider... The goldrider starts off for the bowl and blizzard both. Sadly.

With a box under his arm, a bag slung over his shoulder and his farrier's toolbelt still laced around his waist over the top of his leather work apron, it's quite clear - if perhaps surprising - that N'ky has been occupied with something to do with his former vocation. The sudsy wetness and fresh redwort stains on the leather apron, staining his hands and splashed down onto old metal-toed boots suggest he's only just come from such work, while the cold lingering about him and the flushed shade of his cheeks attest to time spent away from the warmth of the indoors, even if his clothing isn't quite blizzard-worthy. He juggles his things to free a hand for klah-pouring once he's made his way through the cavern, then pauses to survey the tables, squinting as he sees the Weyrwoman get up and leave - and eying the space she's just vacated. The greenrider makes his way over there, dumping things in the Aishani's still-warm spot, before falling into a chair and grunting a greeting as he lifts his klah mug to his lips for a hearty, half-draining and clearly needed drink.

"You see me talkin' ta' any holders, here?" Alida notes dryly to Aishani, the weyrling shaking her head and shrugging. The bluie holds her tongue for awhile, lifting her hand in farewell when the (acting) Weyrwoman takes off, though she does finally cant her head to Waki and murmur, "So, explain what you two were talkin' about. Crafter stuff, sounded like." Beat. "And just 'cause Aishani doesn't wanna' piss off anymore Holders this turn, doesn't mean some riders here 'n there, on their own, couldn't stake out a few acres 'n till some unknown ground down south...away from human habitation." Ah; and then there's N'ky, his state getting a long peer from the blonde, and - after he plunks his ass down - a dry, "Enjoyin' the weather?"

"Oh, you hadn't heard?" K'zin asks the bluerider on the heels of her request. He gives a greeting nod and smile to the greenrider joining them, "The Weyrleaders have put it in motion to let the crafters choose their own representation to the Weyr so they can have a bigger say in what goes on with them. It's a pretty big deal over at the Complex." As well it might be expected. "Apparently, the senior crafters are holed up trying to decide how to choose who'll be the representative. Vintners want a drinking contest." He grins for that, "Glasscrafters are for it. Shoulda seen that coming. What's better than booze to drink out of glasses?" He glances to the greenrider's drink of choice. "They run out of klah at the Complex?" is his inquiry to N'ky since Alida has the weather covered. As for the farming, he shrugs, "It wouldn't be my first choice for vocation as a dragonrider." But not everyone has to be for an idea to have it go forward.

The tail-end of conversation is listened to but not interrupted by N'ky, as he tries to gauge what the topic is, but Alida's direct question to him is answered as he lowers his mug and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. "The tunnel," he waves a hand in the vague direction of the inner caverns - through which he's just come - and the Weyr's entrance beyond them, "is cold." But clearly not cold enough for him to have been wearing anything more than a shirt and his work gear. "I was out there," N'ky replies to K'zin, this time not pointing, but tilting his head to indicate where. Then, somewhat regretfully, he adds, "I scared Hana off when I got through to the abscess. She d-doesn't like pus." Is that surprising? He nurses the mug of klah, wrapping red-stained fingers around it. "What's not a first choice of vocation?"

"Not straightforwardly, but I half-guessed..." Alida replies to K'zin, the blonde finishing up her meal, and muffling a soft burp behind her hand. A soft chuckle issues from her lungs when Waki speaks of the various Crafters, her alto noting, "Betcha' that new Vintner gal's behind the contest." Smirk. N'ky's words of the tunnel and pus have the woman staring at him in perplexed fashino for a moment, the lightbulb then going on in side her head, prompting her to mutter, "Hoof rot? Seen a case uv' that a couple'a times. Gross." Cue a face. And then, to answer both the bronzer and the greenie, "I didn't say that, Waki." A firm look presages more, in: "Those riders who got a bent that way could farm... 'r those who want a stake in eatin' the raised food when it starts dryin' up." She's obviously a pessimist. "If a rider who didn' wanna' farm covertly wanted some uv' the foodstuffs that'd be raised, they could barter with their fellow farmer-riders, 'r pay 'em." Shrug.

"Ohh," The noise of realization is soft as K'zin follows N'ky's point and realizes on second glance that he was tending the Beastcraft side of his former trade. His plate, too, is empty, but he won't abandon the table without giving N'ky an answer. Even as Alida explains more about the idea, he's rising, stacking his plate and mug as Aishani before him, surely soon to be snagged up by a passing caverns assistant. His hands fall onto Alida's shoulders as he stands behind her, "Alida," K'zin speaks to N'ky, wiggling the bluerider's shoulders gently, "-wants us to become farmers down in Southern." Beat. "Which I'd take over pus. But not over much else." He grins to the pair, lifting his hands away, "See you." It's offered in casual farewell to both before he's heading toward the bowl and the blizzard himself, pausing to don his flight gear before heading out.

N'ky raises his mug as a farewell to the bronzerider, before turning to face Alida, sitting sideways in his chair with one leg propped up, covered by his messy apron. "Farmers? I-in Southern?" The way he responds clearly suggests he's not quite as opposed to it as the others would seem to have been. "We-- they," a quick correction, followed by an uncomfortable squirming and wince, "have crops at home. To feed the animals with - it's cheaper than having to buy all of the fodder in." Which suggests he has some experiencein the field. "What sort of farming?"

Not many at all are allowed to so casually touch Alida, much less wiggle her around a little. Apparently K'zin's one of the very few, for not only does he remain uninjured, but gains a roll of the blonde's eyes, as well. "Do *not*..." is called out to the departing weyrling, the woman then returning her gaze back to N'ky...and finishing off the dregs of her klah. "Keep yer voice down..." the bluerider suggests to the greenie, though not crossly, then nodding to him. "I suggested 'Reaches might do some farmin' covertly deep in the South...ta' help with not havin' ta' worry so much about the stupid fuckin' tithes." Especially since there's word of Devaki slicing off 2/3rds of said tithe. "Those riders who want ta' could tend our crops, fence off some land, keep it free uv' pests." Like wild whers and wherries. "Grain crops, veggies, tubers...shit like that."

Lowering voices means conspiratorial leaning, and N'ky scoots his chair closer to Alida's, so he can get in close so as not to be overheard. "Cailluneth likes the sound of that." He rests one elbow on the table, while his other hand holds his klah mug on his knee. "I like the sound of that." He bites his lip, cheeks flushing now with excitement - and dimpled, slightly, by his eager, crooked smile. "'Lida... I know where there's, um... I kn-know where my family keep the ovines in winter... we could... w-we could rustle some, raise them, too..." Such a deviant thought comes awkwardly from him.

She listens to what N'ky has to say, the woman keeping her thoughts and reactions to herself in the meantime. And when the greenrider's done, and she's twirled her empty mug around some, her answers come in measured cadence, quiet, firm. "We already got more trouble than we c'n borrow, after C'wlin an' N'hax fucked up." Headshake. "No stealin'." Unvoiced, concerned: unless things get really shitty, foodwise. "Fer now, there's wild beasts we c'n hunt in the South."

"Oh. Um. Yeah." N'ky nods in agreement, shifting his weight a little more, chewing down on his lip. His runs his fingers through his curls, brushing them back from his forehead, and huffs out a soft breath. "We... w-we could go. You and me. Go and, um... do sweeps, or something. F-find some good land, and.... and maybe try to do something. Maybe if we could show everyone that we can do it..." He trails off, then leans in a little closer to the bluerider, looking uncomfortable. "I...I-I messed up, 'Lida. I went h-home and I sh-shouldn't have, a-a-and it all... it all w-went wrong." His head drops, fingers knotting tightly into his curls.

"Not enough muscle power..." Alida murmurs, her expression both thoughtful and determined. "It'd require some very careful plannin' and execution, if it were ta ever get off the ground in the first place." A quick fix of greens on the youth is followed by a low, blurted, "Do *not* get it inta' yer head ta' start talkin' about any uv this ta' anyone. Fer all I know, this could be a total dead end. It could be a potentially dangerous idea, too." Most especially if any holders found out. And then the greenie's spilling the most general of beans about his disasterous trip home, and the woman sighs, rubs her forehead some. After a few moments, "How bad?"

N'ky draws a finger along his lips; they're sealed, with regards to the Southern talk. "Da said... stuff. I g-got upset... Cailluneth got upset." Not surprising, given their bond. "I think I... I th-think I pushed her to... I mean she... she didn't do it by herself, b-because I was thinking it, but she... she h-hopped a fence and... they keep the pregnant ewes by the holding this time of turn." He drops his head again, exhaling long and hard. "F-four. She got four of them."

"Better the ewes than *them*, I guess..." Alida notes blandly, shaking her palest head. A gust of exhaled breath spills out, and is followed by the bluie's gaze locking to N'ky's, her words atill quiet. "Unless ya' get word from yer family...don't go there anymore. It'll only get worse." And she knows how much worse things can get with repeated exposure, too. "D'ya' think they'll come ta' the Weyr, lookin' fer recompense? 'R maybe their overLord?" A questioning expression seems to ask N'ky just who's at the top of the pecking order, in the area his former home lies in.

"I'mn-not going any more. My s-sisters and uncle wrote to me since, but... b-but that's it. But, 'Lida... their Lord Holder... th-that'd be Devaki. I-if my mum and Ansly can persuade my dad, then... th-then maybe n-nothing'll come of it, but... b-but..." Fingers knottedin curls tug on them now, and N'ky shakes his head, looking hopeless. "H-he was so angry, a-a-and it's n-not the first time th-that a dragon's d-done that, wh-which is what I was thinking of when Cailluneth..." He groans, setting down his klah mug to rest elbows on knees, hiding his face in his hands. "Wh-what if he goes to Devaki? Wh-wh-what if I've made th-things worse?"

"Write back to 'em only if it's safe ta' do so..." the woman mutters, shaking her head a little at the spite people can hold for one another they call 'family.' Another, softer exhale leaves Alida trying to think of alternatives to what indeed could become another thorn in the Weyr's side, and what she comes up with isn't necessarily great. "You could approach Azaylia about this. She's fair, direct." It would be an admission of guilt, of course. "You could leave it alone, see if it turns out yer ma' gets the ol' man's silence from 'im." Beat. "And there's less pleasant ways uv' ensurin' silence."

N'ky shakes his head, looking up at Alida with a worried glint in his brown eyes. "N-no, 'Lida, I've not t-told anyone, I c-c-can't. I d-don't want to get in trouble, I've n-never been in trouble. You're the only one I've t-told, and you c-can't say anything." The latter suggestion, of unpleasant measures to keep things schtum, isn't quite understood; N'ky blinks at the bluerider, unsure. "U-unpleasant? I... I d-don't follow."

"*You* gotta' weigh things..." Alida comments to N'ky's words of wanting to keep silent about the incident. She looks dead serious by this point in their conversation. "There's good 'n bad that c'n come outta' various actions...'r *in*actions. Gonna be up t'you." A firm nod is given to the greenrider at his words of not wanting her to talk about this, but she doesn't spare him any unpleasantness when asnwering his question. "You c'n...'ask' certain people ta' go t'yer pa', 'n put the thumb screws to 'im, literally 'r figuratively. Y'know..." Shrug. "A little deft pressure that'll lead 'im ta' be inclined ta' wanna keep 'is mouth shut about it."

"Oh." That wasn't what N'ky was expecting to hear. His eyes are wide and he almost seems to be considering it for a moment, before he shakes his head adamantly. "N-no, 'Lida, I c-couldn't... he... he's still blood, even if he doesn't want to be f-family." There's a little bit of a choke on that word; the greenrider maybe hasn't quite accepted the situation yet. "Th-that's what I was upset over the other night. I'd... I'd j-just got back. I h-hadn't been out with anyone else, and... a-and April wasn't there when I needed her, s-so I..." Got drunk in the Snowasis. "Y-you were there, though."

She figured he wasn't willing to take the potentially safest, but nastiest course, and for that, Alida is silently thankful. "Yer decision." Nod. More listening finds the blonde leaning back into her chair, and casting her gaze all about to keep general track of the bustle in the cavern, though her greens always return to N'ky. A pair of nods, then, "Another piece uv' advice: if 'n when y'get drunk, do it in a safer place...like the Weyr. And *don't* do it in unknown company, unless y'don't mind havin' random shit happen that y'might not remember the next day."

N'ky remains leaning towards the blonde, hands clasped in front of him now. "M-my decision," he says with a nervous nod and a weak smile. At least the talk of getting drunk gets a little more strong of a reaction from him, even if it's just a wry little laugh and a wincing look. "I didn't much like the, um, a-after effects of the last time. But, 'Lida? If I decide to drink again, I, um, I'd l-like to do it with you." The greenrider gives her a shy little smile, and shrugs his shoulders as he offers a quietly coy explanation: "You make me f-feel safe."

"Yep..." is murmured pragmatically to her buddy, Alida starting to get restless as the crowd in the living cavern continues to remain at large capacity, due to the blizzard. "*Nobody* likes the after-effects." Snert. "Best for ya', anyway, if y'don't take ta' drinkin' much. Makes a lotta' people crazy, stupid." And vulnerable in various ways, as well as funny, angry, and a whole lot of other things. "Breaks ya' down some fer awhile." As for feeling safe with her... "I would fuckin' *hope* so." A flash of a toothy grin is all for N'ky, even as the bluie slowly rises from her seat, takes up her near-empty tray...only one bubbly pie left upon it. "That's my job." Even as a 'rider, she can't give up her Guard status.

Perhaps noticing Alida's restlessness, N'ky follows her to her feet, returning her grin with one that's also toothy, but a bit more shy. "You do your job r-really well, then." Then, redwort-stained fingers dart out to steal that last bubbly pie, and his grin turns cheeky, more playful - a happy contrast to the more serious stuff he spilt not so long before. "W-would you like to share a bubbly with me over klah, wingsecond?" It's a little sassy, as he waves teasingly over the treat in front of her. "I've some klah up in my weyr, if you want."

That snatching hand is slapped away, Alida actually glaring at N'ky for a split second, then mellowing the expression by sticking a bit of her tongue out at him. "Getcher' own. *That's* fer me, later." Because she is *not* stepping back out into that damned blizzard unless absolutely necessary. A small and casual shake of her pale head is chased by a low, "Need my alone time, now. Maybe another time, greenie." If she heard that 'wingsecond,' the bluie's not responding to it.

"Boooo." N'ky huffs, though it's lightheartedly so. "'Greenie' makes me sound like something you'd blow out of your nose, 'Lida. I know you like me more than that." Spoken softly, so no-one can hear - and the quick wink from beneath the shaggy flop of his cocoa-curls is just for her, too. "There'll be more bubblies in the kitchens, anyway. Hot bubblies. Hot bubblies for me." He's gently teasing as he brushes his hair back from his forehead, which makes the curls stick out scruffily. Then, with a whole lot more sincerity and warmth, he adds, "You're always welcome by, you know?"

"So, yer sayin' I should just be callin' ya' 'booger,' then?" Alida notes dryly as she starts stepping towards the place to drop off her dishes at. "Can't carry hot bubblies in a pocket." Pause. "Yeah; I know. You know I'm not terribly social most times, right?" Though it might sound brusque, the blonde simply means it as speaking the obvious of herself. "Night, Nick."

"Um... n-no. Not booger." N'ky shakes his head, before giving the bluerider a gentle half-hug, one arm around her shoulders as he squeezes her softly into his side. "N-not even you can call me booger and get away with it." Though how he would stop her is another thing altogether. He loosens his quick hug, giving the blonde a wink as he steps back towards the table, where his things are still piled up. "G'night, 'Lida. Sweet dreams."

"I just did..." Alida so gracefully reminds N'ky, then playfully ducking away from him as she smirks. That hug feels pretty awkward in this loud cavern full of people, but maybe it'll go missed, since most folk are busy chattering away. Over her shoulder to the towering greenrider is called, "Evenin', gr...N'ky." Grin. "No drinkin'." And off she goes, for real.