Difference between revisions of "Logs:Not the Moment"

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.

Rhey's relative dryness suggests he's not one of those who was out in the storm... which is probably surprising to absolutely no one. What may be surprising is that he's here at all, present in the midst of such obvious grief and confusion. To be fair, he looks relatively confused of his own accord; he walks without apparent aim, crossing towards the caverns in a vague, directionless kind of way.

It might be surprising to some that Lya is here and not only that, but she's not avoiding work. In point of fact, the sleeves on her disheveled work things are rolled up and her apron bears sings that she helped build up those fires that are now roaring in the hearth. She's even now moving through the cavern with an armful of dry shirts pulled from the Weyr's stores, and she's working in relative silence. She seems, arguably, not quite herself either for all that she doesn't have a dragon to feel the loss in that other way. She's just turning away from a greenrider with her load when Rhey is walking just there and she runs into him, dropping the full load on the floor between them. "Shells!" She dives straight after them lest they get wet from where all the wet people have walked.

"Fuck," says Rhey, immediately, physically jumping backwards. It's actually - almost - a normal human reaction, given the way his eyes dart towards the dropped shirts, and the scrambling Lya. In fact... "Sorry."

"Yeah-" Lya starts with an effort at some of her usual bluster, as she looks up at him, but the oomph just isn't there in her eyes. She sighs, closing them and then looking back to the task at hand to pick up the shirts, "Just go." She can't even seem to summon up enough will to call him leper-boy. Maybe when the healers are done with all the actual victims, they should check Lya out as well.

Rh'mis pauses, as if torn between-- well, who knows what he's torn between. His expression is certainly bewildered. But he nods... and he goes. Look. It doesn't always have to end with bickering... and tonight clearly isn't the night for that.