Difference between revisions of "Logs:To the Last Drop"

>---< Random Tunnel, High Reaches Weyr (TP Room - HRW) >---------------------<
   There are many twisty, turny tunnels throughout High Reaches Weyr. And   
  this just happens to be one of them. It branches off from one of the main 
  ones, taking you away from the resident dorms and private rooms. Here and 
  there are some storage closets, but the hall is mostly bare. It's devoid  
  of decoration and seems to otherwise just take a windy path towards the   
  main caverns.

Someone unfamiliar with the weyr's slew of twining, winding tunnels might assume that picking one at random and aimlessly wandering the branching halls might afford a modicum of privacy. In this case, that 'someone' is Laine: she's trekked through a maze of tunnels and claimed a spot on the floor--she had the foresight to bring along a blanket, at least, but she presents a sorry sight. Her winter layers shed in puddles of clothes around her, knees scrunched up to her chin, the red-rimmed look to her grey eyes hints that she might have been crying, though her eyes are dry now. She's got a letter flattened against her thighs, although she's not reading it, just staring unhappily at the wall across.

Edyis doesn't look like the kind of person to pick random tunnels, in fact from the purposeful strides, it is possible she came this way with a distinct purpose. When dark brown eyes alight upon the woman curled against the stone wall, those steps stop altogether. The former scribe studies Laine for a moment in silence, recognizing her quickly. "You ok Laine?" Laine curses quietly under her breath when she hears footfalls approaching down the hallway. She's busy crumpling up that letter and cramming it into her tunic's breast pocket when Edyis stops, and when Laine peers up at the other woman, she's cultivated a smile, albeit a forced one. "Edyis, hi. Sorry. Hi." She scrubs the heels of her hands at her eyes, pulls her legs in closer so the path is clear for Edyis to keep walking. "Uh. Yeah. Sorry."

Edyis kneels deftly, brown eyes focusing on red rimmed grey. Her task forgotten for the moment. "You look..." She muses, pulling her satchel to her side and fishing through its contents until a small leather wrapped flask is pulled out, and offered in Laine's direction. "... like someone who could use a good drink."

The apprentice tanner accepts the proffered flash with a look of profound gratitude. "Oh, Edyis. This is--" she takes a short swig, "literally--" another, quick-like, "the most thoughtful thing--" OK, one more, "anyone has ever--" this time, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "done for me. Oh. Oh. This is really good." Laine presents the flask back to its owner, then looks momentarily sheepish. "Sorry I drank, like half of it."

Her brows arch at the swigging, lips slowly curling in amusement at the tanner. "At least you have good taste. I do have the rest of the bottle stashed somewhere I think." Tipping her head to the side Laine gets a once over, before Edyis ventures; "You want to talk about it?" She does not accept the flask immediately, leaving the tanner to finish it off if she desires.

"No," Laine is quick to shake her head, but keeps that flask close at hand since, you know, Edyis didn't take it back. "No," she repeats. "I really don't." Want to talk about it, that is. But she attempts another smile, and this one is firmer, more sustantial, and she turns it on Edyis. "But I really, really appreciate that you asked." That smile turns into a wry grin. "And I also appreciate this rum." Another gulp, and this time she's looking at Edyis overtop of the flask as she drinks from it. When she's done, she asks, "where were you going, all purposeful-like, before you tripped on sad little me?"

"To get more rum." Edyis answers with such a casually wicked grin, it could be a lie, "Of course, if that paper you had before was the kind of letter I think it was, I would be willing to share the bottle. Rules be damned."

Laine is willing (and eager) to buy into that lie. Fully. "Yes, oh yes." At the mention of her letter, Laine glances down at her pocket and pokes at the paper until it's no longer visible in all its creased and crumpled glory. "The worst kind of letter," is all she says, with a nod. Then, vaguely curious: "whose rules are telling you who you can and can't share with?"

Edyis arches a brow at the words worst kind but, when talk turns to rules she laughs. "I meant your rules as an apprentice, something about not drinking or in moderation?" She waves a hand, settling back to sit on the ground and stretching her legs in front of her. "The sorts of rules that people who walk tables have."

Grey eyes widen. "Oh--my rules." Laine scrunches up her nose, tips her head back until it rests against the cool stone wall behind her. "I'll tell you a secret, Edyis," and she lolls her head to one side so she can peek over at the server, sidelong, "I'm a terrible apprentice. Just the worst." Everything is the worst tonight, apparently. Moderation be damned: Laine takes another drink. She chuckles, though. "Listen to me, moping. Sorry. How was your day, Edyis?"

Edyis laughs, "I am not sure I believe that is possible, though -- you do seem to be the kind of person who gets into interesting kinds of trouble." Propping herself up with her palms against the floor behind her. "Not as bad as I thought, apparently. One handed dragon washing wears a body out, apparently you are supposed to do things like listen to your healer when dealing with an injury. If you don't." She already mentioned what her punishment was.

Laine seems oddly flattered, even if Edyis didn't intend her words to be complimentary; she wriggles her shoulders proudly against the wall. She shuffles over and pats the blanket she's laid out on the floor, an invitation for Edyis to scootch over to something softer than that hard stone floor if she chose. "Was the dragon-washing the punishment?" The tanner squints. "Or, like, something to do for fun?"

Laine bobs her head and kinda/sorta starts to say something about dragon-washing, but doesn't get much further than, "I imagine one-hande--" before she trails off, and turns to give Edyis a full, proper once-over. Tilting her head back, then side to side, then squinting, Laine promptly slowly, "Nabol? I'm from Nabol. Where from Nabol?" Her hand creeps up, as though subconsciously, to cup protectively over that pocketed letter.

Edyis's ears turn a shade scarlet. "Esvay Hold, it was run by my father's family until very recently." She lifts her shoulders, "Haven't been back since my stepmother died about seven months back." She grins, "You find a suprising number of us here, Rhey is from Nabol too. Well, Rh'mis now."

"No way. No way!" Laine, propped up next to Edyis, aims to gently bump her shoulder toward the other girl, if Edyis doesn't move, in an amicable sort of gesture. The tanner chuckles. "I grew up on a little cothold just--what, two hours away?" As though she just notices the flask still in her hand, Laine offers it again back to Edyis with a lopsided grin. "Don't know if I know a Rhey. I haven't been home, not properly, 'cept to visit, in... four turns?" Then, as an afterthought, Laine adds: "Sorry about your stepmother."

Edyis laughs taking the flask and a swig of its contents. "The world is often an astonishingly small place." Dark brown eyes focus on the distant wall as the brunette recalls, "I think it was about four turns almost to the day that I left under search. Didn't even ride back with the bluerider, I hitched a ride with the tithe caravans and the other refugees." Edyis chuckles self-depreciatively, and another swig at mention of her stepmother is evident. "Thank you, she was my hero in a lot of ways."

That 'small world' comment earns a firm nod of agreement from Laine, who otherwise stays silent while Edyis speaks. She turns round, grey eyes on the older girl and tsks with a quick, sympathetic smile. "Wasn't an easy time for you, huh? Takes a brave soul. But," Laine brightens, spreads her hands palm-up, and announces cheerfully, "now you're here. Sitting in a tunnel! With me." Lucky~!

"Ah yes, indeed I am. Stuck here with you, who drinks all my rum." She laughs, reflecting perhaps on some bizarre sense of symmetry to the situation. So very lucky indeed! "Everybody has their own trouble. The world goes on despite it. Reaches does have a charm all her own, can't say there are too many places I would rather be than here."

"Hey," Laine sticks out her tongue and taps at the flask in Edyis' hands, obviously hoping to elicit some sort of sloshing response as evidence that there's some left, "I didn't drink all your rum. Just... lots of it. Most." That grin flashes back. "I've only been here a year," Laine says, "but I can see the appeal. Good booze," (e.g.). "And really... Your troubles are the same no matter where you go. And people are just," shrug, "people."

Edyis chuckles, "I apologize, you are correct. You only drank most of my rum." From the grin though, the older girl does not care that the rum is all but gone. "Darling, if you liked the booze, just wait to see what other delights we have in store." She drawls, "Poker games to rival Bitra! Transportation to places warm and exotic, and there's a guy in the kitchens who makes a mean flourless cookie." Leaning back, she sighs. "Which sounds so much better than cleaning up after the crowd we had last night in the Riders' Lounge." Cookies she must mean.

Laine's listening with an appreciative grin, absently nodding... then Edyis goes and says that magic word. The tanner starts, drawing herself upright and then awkwardly unfolds herself from her pretzelled seated position. "Cookies! Now that's something I can get behind." Once she's standing, the girl sways, braces herself against the wall, and extends one hand with a flourish down to Edyis, an offer to pull her to her feet. "Raid the kitchens with me?" Because there's cookies to be stol-- er, borrowed from the kitchen!