Difference between revisions of "Logs:First Impressions, Weather and Boots."

Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr(#273RJs)

Massive in scale, the Weyr's main storage passage connects to the kitchen on one end and the outbound tunnel on the other. Large enough to admit a wagon laden with goods, the tunnel easily permits the unloading and organization of supplies into the various storerooms.

Branching off from this corridor are multiple caverns, the nearer two being 'open' stores from which residents can readily help themselves, while the deeper stores are kept locked up tight with a posted sign and inventory hung on a hook outside of each. An alcove next to the public stores serves as a catch-all area for reshelving items whose destination is uncertain; two sets of stone shelving and several bins hold these items neatly until a stores assistant has a moment to deal with them.

Though the storage caverns vary in size, shape, and the smoothness of their walls, all belong to the same system: whitewashed walls, swept floors, and most importantly, neatly labeled and inventoried shelves providing ample space to stow all the supplies a busy Weyr needs. Though there's no direct internal lighting, a glowbasket may be brought in from the niche outsde each cavern, the better to ward off pests and the inky dark of deep caves.

While most are milling around the stores, restocking items or searching for the perfect ones, Z'ian seems to have found his. The bronzerider is down in one of the smaller sub-caverns, jacket tossed to the side and down to the dark colored sleeveless shirt that he wears underneath. He's selected a pile of gently used tops with long sleeves. But that's not the end of the battle, obviously. Now he's at the part where he needs to make sure they all actually fit decent enough. Anyone strolling in would walk in on him checking to make sure the arms are a suitable length for his long-limbed self. There's a yes pile and a no pile. The one he's peeling off over his head right now is going into the no pile. Also, yes, his face is still bruised. But we're down to more yellow than brown and blue today, he mostly looks like himself and not just some guy pretending to be him.

There are indeed people milling around, stocking up and searching for perfect items -- or at least good-enough items -- and Vienne is one of them. Now she has a few things slung over her arm, promising finds of her own. Z'ian might hear her steps first as she passes down the neighboring aisle, or see her through the racks as her search carries her along, but eventually she turns down the row the bronzerider has claimed as his changing room and, since he's in the midst of peeling off his shirt, her steps do stutter a bit, aware she could be intruding. "Hi." Because it seems polite to say something, in case he's about to strip all the way down and doesn't want an audience. Her attention doesn't linger on him anyway, but turns to scan through the wall of stuff on either side of her, even though this is, well, men's stuff.

It's possible that he heard her steps coming down the aisle, but if so, he hardly registered them on any palpable level. When she comes around the corner, he glances at her a little distractedly as he pulls the sleeves down on another shirt. It's the right length but... there's a hole at the elbow. He twists his arm around to look at it critically before dragging it up over his head. "Oh, hello." He answers through the fabric before tossing it in the yes pile. The hole must not be a deal breaker for him like it was the last owner. Kneeling down to select another, he flickers his attention towards Vienne again. "You wear men's clothes often?" He asks playfully, pulling a dark red shirt over his head, messing his hair up completely.

With her brow faintly furrowed, her survey of what's available is topical, not hunting through individual items but rather skimming to see what general type of clothing is here. So far it's just shirts, which makes sense considering what Z'ian is doing. And she answers him distractedly, "No, I'm looking for boots," as if that's actually clarifies the situation. But it's just shirts here, just shirts there. And she glances at the bronzerider himself as he tugs a dark red one on, a discerning eyes evaluating it but not saying anything as she moves a bit closer in hope that somewhere in this aisle some boots will appear.

"These are men's clothes. Do you wear men's size boots?" Z'ian asks, tone still playful even as he glances down at her feet. She certainly doesn't look like she would need to wear the same size shoe as the average man. He rakes his fingers through his hair and tries to bring it to order, inspecting the red shirt at the same time. When he stretches his arm out and flexes his hand he looks appropriately satisfied. Good shirt. Still curious about his aisle companion, he glances at her as she goes by him. "You're one of Taikrin's friends from the party." Just like he's chasing a thread, he more fully turns to watch Vienne on her hunt for footwear. "You put your drink down next to me. I was afraid to knock it over, so I moved." Now if he could remember back to what she said her name might be, they'd be in awesome shape.

They're little feet, it's true, and it might be that his tone actually breaks through her distraction because Vienne cracks a smile at him, "No, I don't," she laughs, without actually explaining any further. She gets to a rack of belts, though, letting a hand stretch out to run her fingers long them and leave them swinging. "I've reached the waist, maybe I'm getting closer," she declares with some feinged excitment, though possibly to herself since he's probably not too concerned with her search, or so she thinks while he's behind her. It's only after he brings up Taikrin's party that she turns on a heel to look back at him watching her. "I'd just met her that night," she answers, though now she's a little bewildered by the rest of what he's said and she grins at him. There's amusement in her voice when she says, "You remember all that?"

"Maybe, but I think you'll have to turn an entire aisle." Z'ian comments, looking past her and towards the corner she'd have to go around. It's possible that he's done with this whole trying clothes on thing. For the two or three remaining tops he just throws them into the done pile and calls it a day. The dark red shirt, well, he must like it. Because he doesn't rush to take it off. So on the floor he sits, pulling the clothes in around him and begins to neatly fold them up. The touch of bewilderment in her voice results in a quick flash of a smile from the bronzerider, one that he delivers between shirt folding. "Right, you already knew Jo though. She introduced you both, you're Vienne. You wanted to play darts." His grin is tugged to the side, definitely delighted by her evident amusement. "Sure I do. Why wouldn't I?"

She lingers there as he sinks to the floor, urged to stay by the recounting of their brief meeting some nights ago, the wideness of her eyes showing her to be rather impressed by the length and detail of his memory. And why wouldn't he remember? Well, when he gets to that question, Vienne's gaze drops, to his piles of clothes rather than him, possibly because she herself doesn't recall quite so much about their introduction. "It was busy, there were a lot of people I didn't know," she says, sounding more like an apology than explanation. But, "I remember you," if perhaps much more vaguely. "Are you... friends with Taikrin?"

Neat little squares. That's how the shirts end up, even the rejected ones. "I think the circumstances were different for you than they were for me." Z'ian seems unconcerned with her lack of memory. At least he doesn't display any concern for it. While she's speaking, he's realizing that there are buttons going a quarter of the way down the front of his new red shirt. Isn't that fascinating? He appears to be distracted as he opens them up experimentally. "Is this a good look? I never could quiet pull off the v-neck." Discerningly he stares down, lips pulling to the side in thoughtfulness. Her question returns him to the moment and he laughs quietly, "Friends with Taikrin? Not exactly. We'd met once before. A friend of a friend, more like."

Vienne's mouth purses as she eyes the collar of his shirt. "Probably just a few of them. Not all of them." So maybe he still isn't quite pulling off the v-neck. But he seems happy with his neat little squares of shirts, and so Vienne starts to take a step back, ready to leave him to his clothes and get back to her quest. "I was looking for boots," she finally explains. "I thought maybe boys boots would fit. And that since they grow out of them so fast, there might be a few to choose from."

"That's what I was thinking." Z'ian replies on the matter of buttons and shirts. He grabs the pile of rejected ones and gets to his feet, placing them back into the box that he took them from. "Since you're new here," perhaps rumors really do fly or he's just particularly observant, "I would recommend saving the marks and placing an order for a pair of boots made for you. This is the Reaches, boots and gloves are important things during the heart of winter. Especially when you're up in the air. Wind." He peels the red shirt off over his head and folds while he stands, kneeling again, this time to grab the acceptable pile. "But it's still early yet. Take what you can find."

Vienne nods to all of this, attentive though Z'ian is hardly the first person to try to impress on her just how much cold and snow she's in for during the oncoming winter. "I need a lot of stuff. I've been trying to get estimates on things but... There's just so much I have to get." She drags a hand through the items folded over her arm, making a bit of a face that suggests they aren't exactly awesome finds. "I didn't really come with a full winter wardrobe." So here she is, now scouring the men's section. "Do you know where the boy's clothes are?" she wonders, brows lifted hopefully, smile trying to tease a little more help from him.

"Just take what you can get from here now. Fill in the cracks as you go along, you'll figure out what you need. But in my personal, having lived in this area my entire life, opinion? Boots and gloves." Z'ian glances towards her arm, away from the pile of shirts that he's tucking under his own. "Why come here?" He asks curiously, the intent of the question not relating to the stores, but to the weyr itself. "I might." He replies in answer to her question, smiling brightly at her. Then he's stepping away from the wall and passing her, hooking his hand onto the end of one of the shelves. As he leans into it, he teasingly asks, "So you remember me?"

Here? There's a half a second there where it looks like Vienne is about to wonder how he could ask why she's in the stores while they're in the midst of a 'you need boots' conversation. Thankfully she's not really that dense and her grin quickly turns sly and playful. "For the snow, of course." That snow she's totally unprepared for. "Why does anyone come here?" It might be only sound partially rhetorical so perhaps she really does look for an answer. But meanwhile, if he's going to go on teasing, how can she resist but play along. The way he leans against the shelves, she flicks her gaze over him briefly, her mouth open and that grin just hanging in the corner, like she's trying to remember him all over again. "You're the guy I set my drink near. And you moved." Or so she's been told. "And there was something about someone stabbing you with a dart."

"I don't know," Z'ian begins as a slow smile curves his mouth, tugs on his lips. "I've always been here." He doesn't have an answer then to her rhetorical/not rhetorical question. He points one finger at her idly as she answers his, "Two of those things don't count since I already told them to you." Then he's clicking his tongue and there's another round of quiet laughter. "Yes, Jo was going to shoot me in the ass with a dart since she wasn't going to be allowed to accidentally stab and send me to the infirmary." It's the type of explanation that probably only makes sense if you were there. He remains sly and teasing, "You only remember the parts that involve bodily harm being threatened to me. I need to work harder on my first impressions. At this rate I might as well be a wallflower."

"And you've never met anyone who has come here?" Then, with a bit more excitement in her expression, put on for show, Vienne wonders: "Am I the first?" Her faux glee doesn't last long, though, because when he's pointing that finger at her, she becomes immediately, if just as artificially, contrite. Her mouth pinches to a sorry little purse. "I'm not sure it was the bodily harm," she corrects as the fake expressions leave her face and she starts to take a step past him, her head tipped to indicate that he's supposd to be leading the way. "I was mostly thinking that there was a good chance I'd end up stabbing someone with a dart. So that part stood out to me." The wry tip comes back to her smile, her sideways glance. "What would you have done differently for your first impression?"

"Not a single one. I only occupy myself with people who are born and plan to die here. I used to try avoiding people that left the area, but. My circle of friends started to really dwindle and I do like having friends." Z'ian's smile is broad now as he entertains her with his tall-tale. Exaggerating, he rolls his eyes dramatically, "So it wasn't even me? It was the darts? I'm such a disappointment." Life is so hard. The bronzerider sighs and turns the corner with her, leading them down the aisle and through the boys clothes. He runs his hand along the shelves as they go and he seems to be quite accustomed to the area. Grinning cheekily, "Probably something that would have had you remember my name. But so much for that, huh?" They're in the area of shoes and he glances down at her feet. His expression shifts and he seems to be legitimately thinking now. "Boots, boots. Small feet. Close to a size..." He's tall, but the shelf he wants to reach is a bit high even for him. Dragging a box down, he drops it onto the floor. "There's probably more around, but I usually find the good ones are tucked away up high here."

Vienne is enjoying the cheeky grin, letting it infect her own smile as they walk on. "What is it?" she has to ask, since she doesn't remember his name from the party and if he's mentioned it again, she's missed it here as well. As they pass by the boy's clothes, her attention does start to drift from her new companion, taking note of what's available, an eye out for anything that might appeal to a small woman as well as a young boy. Probably not some of these things in primary colors, if her current, rather more muted and neutral attire is any starting point. And when Z'ian has to reach up so very far for the box, she warns him, "You're going to have to stick around, now. If these don't fit, there's no way I'll be able to put them back." Meanwhile she folds all her other finds into her jacket and stuffs them into a bit of space on the shelf so that she can take the box and inspect the contents. "Maybe a size up? So I can wear..." There's a sigh. "I need socks too. How did I forget socks?" Anyway, sit settles down on the floor to try on these possibly-too-small boots anyway.

"It's a nice name." The bronzerider starts, flashing her a smile over his shoulder. She comments that the boots may be a size too small and he begins to look around the shelves. He takes a breath, scanning the boxes slowly. "You're lucky my older boy has big feet. Otherwise I wouldn't know where some of this stuff is tucked away." Z'ian bites down on his lip and side steps over, reaching for another box. He peers inside of it and pulls out a pair that look like they might be appropriate for her Vienne. They're tossed gently onto the floor near her. "The first letter of my name is the last letter of the alphabet." Keeping his shirts tucked under his arm is beginning to become a chore so he puts them onto the edge of one shelf. "The socks are probably the easier find." He comments idly. And since he doesn't really expect her to figure out his name through a series of guessing games, he eventually supplies it. "Z'ian."

"How many kids do you have?" Vienne wonders, a logical polite question to follow the suggestion that he has any and has come store-hunting with them. Off comes her own boots, then she stuffs her foot into the brown boot lined with gray fur and she frowns. "Too small," she decides, the attempted wiggle of her toes visible through the snug leather. "I like the way they, look though. The brown and gray." Maybe, just maybe, this kind nameless fellow will try to find a similar boot? She slips a upward glance at him, letting just a little smile make her look both hopeful and pitiful. As for his name? She might not have much luck guessing, but she'll try anyway. "Z'fer? Z'don? Z'abi?" Thankfully he supplies one before she can start to get too outrageous with her attempts. And then she smiles again, repeating it so this time she'll remember. "Z'ian. Like Vienne only different. How could I ever forget." The boot comes off and put back in his box, which she'll trade for the next one.

"Two sons." Z'ian supplies easily enough, not making a joke about this particular detail of his life. As he's pulling boxes off of the higher shelf for her and sifting, through them, he glances down at her on the floor. Maybe it's being a father or maybe it's just being a man that's been with women, but he knows that kind of hopeful, pitiful smile. He sighs with resignation and laughs, almost under his breath. It's a couple of more boxes before he finds a similar looking boot. They have a higher cut than some of the others, not exactly a popular look for boys. Maybe they're misplaced? Those get tossed her way. "Z'fer? That's the best you've got. Don't try to make a profession out of naming people." He commands, rolling his eyes and grinning crookedly. Her comparison of their names has him pausing and staring ahead. He didn't connect those dots before. "They are similar. Damnit. Now I have a woman's name? Fucking dragon." It's supposed to sound exasperated, but it doesn't really touch anywhere close.

Oh, the sigh. She wins! Vienne beams up at him and waits on the floor with her socked feet flexing while he goes about his hunt. "Z'fer isn't bad. I could have tried Z'pog or Z'muj or something. Z'ian is better, though. A very nice name." Particularly with that whole 'like Vienne' thing and his apparent exasperation only fuels her enjoyment. "What was it before?" Only after all that does she get around to opening the next box, a silent 'ooh' on her lips when she sees them. And they even have straps to cinch them tight and keep the snow out. She tugs them on, trouser legs tucked in, straps tightened, and lifts a hand for him to help her up. "Maybe I have a man's name. To go with my boots."

She seems satisifed with that last set of boots, so he pushes off of the shelf and now turns to collecting the looked through boxes. "Z'fer sounds like a name you give to cattle." He comments off-handedly, lifting one eyebrow at her, mouth twitching. On his toes again he slides the original batch back onto their hidden away spot high above the others. "Zachrian. You know, not the first time recently that a woman asked me what my old name was. Of course she knew what my current name is, lest you think I go around repeating all of my conversations from woman to woman." Something about it grants a smile from him, not the usual sly joking one either. But he's quick to clear his throat and move the talk on somewhat. "I don't think that's true. Vienne sounds girly. And I think those boots didn't belong in this section, so you may be safe from that too."

"That was my first thought," Vienne says, getting to her feet, testing out the fit of her new boots as she goes padding around in circles. "That everytime you meet a woman, you have this exacty conversation because she's forgotten your name." She throws a teasing grin over her shoulder at him, and even though she keeps smiling, she also apologies. "I didn't really think that. And you've been so nice to help me." No need to go insulting her new friend too much. She turns and takes a few little hops, as if that's a behavior her boots will need to hold up to. "They're just a little big, but I think with a few pairs of socks, they'll be perfect." Only... hearing they're not boy boots almost makes her look a little sad. She tips to the side to look down at their profile. "Really? I'd gotten myself all prepared to run around in ridiculous boots all winter. I guess these aren't really bad at all." She must like them because she's not taking them off. "Who was the other woman?"

"Everyone has such a low opinion of me lately. I thought I was still young and vital. But maybe I'm transitioning to that creepy guy that sits in the bathes and uses the same pick up lines on all the girls. And when it looks like it's not working I'm all, And I have a bronze dragon to see if that helps." As with many things, Z'ian doesn't sound entirely serious. Just rolling with the punches humor, a flash of smile for her when she apologies. "Don't worry about it. It's been nice to talk about names and boots and weather." That at least sounds genuine as he slides the last of the boxes back home. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, you're just going to have wear women's footwear. Such a damn shame." His smile turns crooked and he takes up his shirts. "The one that wanted to shoot me in the ass with darts. Joli- Jo." It's a hint of fondness that he's fast to rein in when he's in Vienne's presence. "Which reminds me, places to be." The clothes are lifted up as if that explains it all, even if it doesn't. "Maybe next time we can talk about your first impression to prolonged periods of snow exposure." Oooh, exciting.

Oh poor, poor Z'ian. No one remembers him, he has a girl's name and he can't wear v-necks. Vienne looks very sorry for him, much too sorry, and she slowly and pointedly lets it morph into a sly smirk, just a touch suggestive with the way she aims it over her shoulder, "You think I let just anyone pick out my shoes?" And then the expression evaporates into a cheery grin and she pats him on the shoulder. (It's probably supposed to be a hearty clap, but she doesn't put that much force into it.) "There you go. Now you don't have to hang around the baths like a creep." She goes about getting her own things, her bundle of clothes, her old, less-wintry boots, and catches something. "Jo. Jol-what?" She probably should have figured that 'Jo' wasn't the whole of the name, but now she's curious enough to waylay him for just a second longer.

"I think you just let the tall men pick them out, because they can reach the shelves for you." Z'ian fires back on his way out of the room. He's laughing when she pats him on the shoulder. "Without your confirmation of my manhood, I just don't know what I would do. Thank you. Now I can hang out in areas where there's better lighting." The bronzerider is disappearing out of the little cavern they're in. As he goes to turn the corner he makes like he can't hear her, cupping one hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was the question? Oh, don't worry about it. See you around!" He waves cheerily without answering her at all and strolls out, shirts tucked under his arm.

Yeah yeah, everyone here is just full of secrets. Great bit silly secrets. All Z'ian can see before he leaves is Vienne rolling her eyes. After that she can turn back toward some of those boy sweaters. Because you know who can wear v-necks? This girl right here.