Logs:Making Trouble for Taikrin
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| RL Date: 8 August, 2011 |
| Who: Taikrin, Rhaelyn, Nathalia, Riorde, Devaki |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Taikrin has apparently been stalking Rhaelyn, who has gathered some information of interest. Threats are made. Afterwards, there's an interlude with a firelizard. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| 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. Nathalia heads in from the inner caverns. Nathalia has arrived. The dinner rush has come and gone and now it's late enough for people to filter in for late night snacks and dessert. Rhaelyn is standing at the serving table, eyeing a towering plate of cake wedges, trying to make her choice from the overwhelming selection. "I don't know why they have to make so -much-." The glows have allowed to get a bit dim now that the crowds have receded, and some of the corner tables are shadowy indeed. It's at one of these that Taikrin reclines, alone, with boots kicked up onto the table and a flask resting against her legs. She nibbles on what might be a cookie, idly, and seems to be more or less fixated on watching Rhaelyn. Straggling in, with a bottle under arm and a tired expression Nat snaps up a mug and looks for someplace to plop down. Spotting Taikrin with an amused glance, she pulls a chair out next to the brown rider. "Mind if I sit here?" Rhaelyn picks up one of the red cakes with cream frosting. This goes onto her plate along with a slice of what could be lemon or citron cake. Then there are berries and whipped cream. To go with this plate of sugary delights, she gets a mug of steaming hot tea and goes to find a place to sit. If she notices anyone looking her way, there's no indication of minding. Passing by Nathalia she gives a nod and one for Taikrin too as she moves past. If Taikrin is startled upon being spotted in her shadowy abode, she doesn't show it beyond an arched eyebrow at Nathalia. She gestures magnanimously at the seat across the way with her flask, offering, "Have a seat." Her attention is primarily fixed on Rhaelyn, though, to the point where she calls out, perhaps to halt her, "Rhaelyn. Enjoying your cake, yeah?" Nat offers a nod in return for Rhaelyn, and plops down in the chair, studying Taikrin with muted puzzlement. The bottle is set on the table, and a bit is added to the mug. The smith seems about to say something but instead she just settles back and watches Rhaelyn and Taikrin. The question does stall Rhaelyn's movement. One eyebrow goes up at Taikrin's question, her lips slanting upward into a child-like smile. "Haven't really tried it yet. I oh, I do plan on enjoying it. Every last crumb." Now it dawns on her that she has been watched and her eyebrows draw together over a suddenly puzzled gaze, "Plenty over there if you want some." "Color me surprised," Taikrin drawls. "Me, figured you would'a tried everything already. I ain't much of a person for sweets." She emphasizes that with a sweeping gesture of her half-eaten cookie, then cuts a significant glance towards Nathalia before adding, "You get a good taste at the gather, then? Lots of sweets, there." Riorde heads in from the inner caverns. Riorde has arrived. Nat takes a long drain from her mug, brows drawing together at the glance. "Not really hungry, but thanks for pointing it out Rhaelyn." The tone of appreciation seems genuine if cautious. "Yeah that gather was something else, I forgot how much I detested holders till then." The mug set down, and refilled as she speaks. "Goes to show how little you know about me." Rhaelyn replies easily to the brownrider without hostility. The cookie is given a look, she hadn't been paying enough attention to notice it until she flourishes it. Then the attention switches to Nathalia, allowing her to answer that. A little nod of her head and she's turning away again, there's an empty table over there. Yay! Apparently Taikrin isn't quite done with her, because no sooner has Rhaelyn turned away then she calls out again. "Apparently so." The brownrider's lips quirk in a little half-smile, despite her best efforts to suppress it. She acknowledges Nathalia's statement with a thoughtful nod, then turns it back to the exile with, "How'd /you/ find the holders? Not to your liking, either?" Nat sighs, leaning over the table to offer the bottle. "You know, I don't get it." Her words are low, spoken softly. "You don't seem to follow your own advice too well you know. Why do you keep digging at her?" She sighs, before leaning back in her own chair. Habits die hard. Riorde, quiet to enter, has the restless, half-wary look about her that makes an exile easy to spot, scanning the main caverns as soon as she steps foot inside the enormous open space. She works her way along the edges rather than stepping out into the middle, and at a certain point her pace quickens when she catches sight of Taikrin tucked into a corner. "Hey." The short greeting encompasses them all, but Riorde has a slight, singular smile for the brownrider. Her dark hair's in a knot lying at the nape of her neck, a wet giveaway - she just came from the baths. Rhaelyn laughs softly, having kept Taikrin in the corner of her eye. She gives her head a turn, just enough to fix the look on her, to try to figure out what her sport might be. "Yeah. Right." She might not catch what Nathalia is saying, but just the lowering of her voice towards the brownrider and Taikrin's continued attention to her makes the exile focus on them tighten. It only crystallizes into a razor edge when Riorde breezes in and settles with the brownrider. "Well...isn't this a cozy picture." There's a moment where she weighs her options like the plate of sweets and the tea in her hands. "Riorde. Hey, did you ever ask Taikrin about her life before she was a dragonrider?" As though this just now occurred to her. Taikrin glances quellingly at Nathalia, eyebrows knit like she's going to say something sharp in reply, but then there's Riorde, and she's smiling at her, and thoughts of needling Rhaelyn or scolding Nathalia go right out of her head. She absently flicks the rest of her cookie across the table, sets the flask aside, then slides down to set in the next chair over (though she leaves her booted feet propped up) and gestures for Riorde to take her newly-vacated chair. "Hey yourself." She ignores Rhaelyn, at first, but then her smile -- and then her entire body -- freezes in place. Eyes are wide with unmasked surprise as they flick towards Rhaelyn as if she could peer in to see whatever information the exile might hold. There is a tired but friendly wave from Nat at the Riorde's appearance, and an apologetic glance for Rhaelyn, that is until she mentions Taikrin's past, at that there's a very deep frown from the smith crafter. A deep breath in, and a long drain from that mug. That glance from Taikrin is just returned quietly, though there is no sharpness or even anger behind it, just a mild shrug. Oh well she tried. "Did you enjoy the gather Riorde?" She asks the girl with a smile. Riorde appropriates Taikrin's seat as her own and curls into it, body angled towards the brownrider she's just joined with one foot tucked under. Ri's observant, taking in the change engendered by Rhaelyn's not so subtle question to her in an instant, and as she slowly, almost languidly turns her head to look at her fellow exile, her expression is momentarily unreadable before she adopts an air of casual boredom. "Sure. But you know what they say-- once you're a rider, everything before isn't important. Haven't you paid attention in classes?' Now paternalistic, almost mocking, Riorde's tone is highlighted but the neutrality she attains afterwards. "Yeah, I did," she answers Nathalia, with a little, private smile all for herself. "It was my turnday." There's a smell of blood in the water at the physical response from Taikrin and Rhae's smile widens. Dark lashes veil her eyes and suddenly, she watches them get all cozy. "I have heard the whole story, from a few different riders." It's less about Riorde not seeming to care, and more about the mockery that makes her change her tactics. One shoulder rolls, "Oh sure, a fish will change it's scales, just like magic. But, there is still that .... 'accident' after she impressed. But, if you're ok with it. Or...not knowing. More power to you." Taikrin flounders, swallows, then grabs onto the opening Riorde throws her like her own personal life raft. "Yeah-- yeah," she ventures, with increasing confidence. "'Course. Old news, though, ain't it?" Though she's putting on a version of her cocky smile, there's something hunted in the gaze she continues to fix intently on Rhaelyn from over Riorde's shoulder. "Crap happens, we move on, yeah?" And, in concerted effort to change the subject, she nudges Riorde in the side. "And you're /terrible/ for not tellin' me beforehand, you know that?" "Glad to hear you had a good Turnday." She offers. There's a definite eye roll for the discourse between the Island girls, but at mention of an accident the smith's brows lift noticeably at mention of an accident. "I would hope people change." She studies the brown rider with a frown, having heard herself about the rider's life before. "It isn't like the Bloods change their colors much, accusing people of stealing some sharding necklace. Silly little git probably just dropped it somewhere." "And you're the expert at scaling a fish." With the corners of her mouth lifting in a smile that continues her derision, Riorde shields herself with a stare-- understated, off-putting intimidation rather than hard, stony warning. She gives little away, even when she finally glances at Taikrin in reaction to the nudge. "What's to tell?" Her "thanks" for Nathalia is muted, distracted, polite but with a significant gap between when the other girl speaks to her and when she responds. Shrugging off Riorde's hard looks, Rhaelyn just gives her a sad look, poor girl and whatever fate she's stumbling into blindly. Then, there's just one last dig, looking at Taikrin and meeting her gaze, "Isn't it just awful. About that necklace being -stolen- that is? I mean, I guess if someone wanted to make it bad for us exiles and keep us under their thumb, who better to go to but someone with a history of stealing things. A dragon wouldn't make you forget how. Would it?" She hefts her snack and drink and turns away, walking out to enjoy her food elsewhere. Though Taikrin doesn't respond in a timely manner before Rhaelyn is turning to stalk off, the look she's giving the younger woman speaks volumes. It's dark and concerned and interested -- and maybe a tiny bit respectful -- and full of promise. "Ain't that interesting?" she comments, finally, though Rhaelyn might be out of earshot. Her voice is full of false brightness, and the smile she tries on rings false. "Girl gets the weirdest ideas, don't she? Was she always like that?" She shakes her head, not waiting for an answer before following up with, "You're supposed to /tell/ me when it's gonna be your turnday, so's I can do stuff. Get you something." Nat's jaw just drops, Rhaelyn didn't really just go there did she? "Really Rhaelyn?" the smith just mutters. Though the look the brown rider gives the Islander gets a frown. "Yeah it's funny, but there's been a lot of dirty deeds done to islanders around here lately. Holders and Riders alike it would seem, judging from the roomers." The smith sighs, grinning at the pair. "Never know anymore I guess, who's safe to trust and who isn't. I think I will stick to gathers further south from now on." Nor does Riorde respond to Rhaelyn-- but then, none of the other islander's words are overtly directed at her, allowing Riorde to study both Rhaelyn and her target, Taikrin. She sinks into contemplative silence, the smile of her mockery dropping off. "You did get me something," she reminds, with a sudden intentness in her features that speaks of a desire to ask a question. It's an effort to turn away, towards Nathalia. "How long have you lived here?" she asks the smith. "A turn? Something like that? How well do you think you can know someone in that time, enough to trust them?" "Sometimes crap happens," Taikrin repeats with some certainty for Nathalia's sake. "You trust your people, take care of 'em, and they take care of you." She sneaks a glance at Riorde, subtle-like, then bumps her shoulder against the exile's. And reminds her, quietly, "Would'a done /more/." But pack to the point at hand, "Sometimes it ain't how long you know a person, but-- you gotta be able to tell, quick-like, who you can trust. Who you gotta watch out for. Some sorts're more obvious than others." Nat leans back nursing her drink. Watching Rhaelyn and the brown rider with a smile. "I don't think it's even been a turn really, I was transferred here the day of the clutching." She notes after a few beats of silence with an uninterested shrug. It's Taikrin's response though that draws the Smith's attention with a smile. "That's very true, and even sometimes you have to keep your friends close, and possible enemies closer." A beat. "In my case the list of people I actually trust has always been pretty short." She offers Riorde with a half smile. The break in Riorde's on-edge, watchful mood is obvious as she sags back into her chair, alert tension draining away. As short-lived as her grin is, there's a certain relief that comes in the brief flash of her teeth. "Did plenty," she insists to Taikrin, punctuating her point with a light prod with her elbow. "Sometimes you know," she seems to agree next with both of the other women, although it's a reversal of the implication in her previous question. "But sometimes people can still surprise you." "Yeah, yeah," Taikrin dismisses her previous effort with a one-shouldered shrug, though now she's grinning from ear to ear. "Better if you don't trust /too/ many people. Too hard to keep track of, you know? But, the right ones. Knowing the right ones is important. Sometimes surprises are okay, and sometimes, well, they ain't so great." Now that smile is directed solely at Riorde, is if to share some private secret. Devaki heads in from the inner caverns. Devaki has arrived. "Personally I am sick of surprises." The smith notes slowly, resting her mug between both hands. At the grin the smith laughs, "right cause you never know when someone's going to try to shank you in your sleep for /trying/ to do the right thing." She laughs. "I think I will be glad when those eggs finally hatch and I can move out of the barracks. Fewer rules would be an added bonus." Riorde doesn't say much, but while she was still and concentrated before, now she displays a certain restless energy, uncrossing one leg only to draw the other one under her, hands lifting to release her damp hair so she can comb through it with her fingers, expression a struggle against the mobility of a smile. "Not many," Riorde echoes her agreement. What Nathalia says starts to cue her own laughter, which she represses by looking away, gazing out at the traffic surrounding them in the cavern. "Just the right ones." "Coupl'a sevens at most, now. Szad seems to think they're almost ready, but he ain't real clear on why." This, at least, Taikrin can be sure of. As Riorde fidgets, Taikrin leans back in the very picture of relaxation and moves to loop an arm behind her shoulders in a casually possessive gesture. "Reckon if you impress, it's /more/ rules, not less. I ever tell you guys about how /amazing/ your first whiskey is, after you had to be dry for months and months?" It would be hard to miss Devaki's entrance. Or more accurately, Devaki's accompanying of a very loud, very demanding little creature. Firelizards are /noisy/ when they're hungry, and Devaki's hair is messed up, shirt untucked as if he's been rousted from a deep sleep and sent on a quest for food. He all but races across the caverns, heading immediately into the kitchen where, mercifully, the noise fades out for a time. When he returns, the noises are dimmed notably by the bucket of meat and quick fingers, as the ruffled-looking exile casts about for an out-of-the-way location to settle down into. Fortunately or not, this is at a table right behind the grouping in the corner. Nat offers a smile for the Island girl as she echoes her agreement. "Well I don't think you have to worry much Riorde, as much as that one keeps an eye out for you." She teases Taikrin warmly. There's a laugh for mention of returning from being dry. "No you didn't, but I think staying completely sober will be the hardest part, unless there are /worse/ rules to follow. That's good news though, I don't think I could take more than a month more of living in there." She eyes Taikrin with a frown. Nat eyes Devaki as he enters, or more accurately the flit that he seems to be accompanying. Riorde maintains mastery over herself by continuing to watch people beyond their table, except for a short glance darted at Taikrin when leans back, and contributes only peripherially to the conversation. "Good thing I'm not a candidate." Riorde's tone of voice is almost too dry, too flat. She only warms in her idle remark to Nathalia. "I manage alright myself." Devaki and the loud thing he carries through the cavern make for a good distraction; when he aims for the table behind them, Riorde twists her upper body towards him and, momentarily, almost out of the circle of Taikrin's arm. "If you've come to harass us with the noise that creature makes, you might as well let us have a look at it at the same time," she says, couching an invitation to join their table in a tease. "That's because you never smelled what comes out the back of a weyrling dragon who ate too much," Taikrin teases Nathalia, though at quarter of her attention is on Riorde and her odd behavior. Well, make that three-quarters, when Devaki appears with his noisy little pet and steals away her attention. Her arm tightens, briefly, but were anyone to look she's all confident smiles. "What you got there? Another one? Flame me, those things're popping up like tunnelsnakes in a-- a breeding season." Whatever she was about to say is caught, last second, and something else blatently substituted in. " Uh, without that last " Food solves a lot of things, apparently, including noisy creatures. Devaki's grown adept at managing to stuff the little firelizard's mouth with one hand while cradling the creature in his other arm. He's just about to flop down onto a seat when a familiar voice draws his attention to the next table, eyes lighting on Riorde and a smile creeping across his features, before his gaze darts to take in her table companions -- including a brief look at the location of Taikrin's arm. "She'll settle down once I stuff her enough," he replies with a laugh, though he does -- with a juggling of firelizard and bowl -- manage to relocate to their table. The creature's tiny, a blue-green shade, and apparently still ravenous, nearly biting Devaki's figure in its haste for the next mouthful of food. "Ow, watch it! What were you-- did I hear something about the clutch hatching soon?" Ah yes, diversionary tactics. Nat eyes the girl suspiciously at the comment but says nothing. There's a smile for the Idle remark. There's a laugh though when Taikrin mentions thick tail. "Well that's true, but no guarantees I will impress either." She laughs, as she studies the lizard with more interest than the Islander male. "Where did you manage to get one?" She asks with a friendly enough smile. With the invitation extended and Devaki in the process of relocating, Riorde re-settles almost as if nothing had happened at all. There's an edge of awareness to her though she seems at ease to the casual observer, busy putting her hair back up with a short length of leather before she lets herself relax back. "Yeah, where /did/ you get it?" she asks on the heels of Nathalia's question to Devaki, a little more insinuating in the way she lays the mild stress. Taikrin is not a casual observer; that edge is not unnoticed. She shoots a look at Riorde, lips pulling to one side in a brief-but-thoughtful expression, then returns her attention to Devaki and his acquisition. "Yeah, who'd you have to kill to get one of them? Eggs ain't so common, all the way up here." She's probably joking: there's that lopsided smile again, and her voice is light despite her hawk-like focus. With a final squeeze, shr drops her arm from around Riorde's shoulder and kicks her boots off the table so she can lean in for a better view. "Or was it just bein' lucky?" "Won it at the gather," Devaki replies without even looking up, unaware of friendly smile or otherwise from Nathalia's question. He's trying to avoid getting his fingers bitten off, it seems. Finally, as the little creature begins to be mostly satiated, he leans back, not unaware of the insinuations, but not rising to them either, not even the expected bristling of the falsely accused. "Almost wish I hadn't, either -- she's been keeping me up since she shelled. Haven't had a full night's rest in..." he trails off as if trying to remember, then gives it up with a twitch of shoulders. "I called her Sea," he adds, gaze darting to Riorde with a that sort of smile you give when you're sharing a secret. "Lucky, right," he agrees with Taikrin. Nat lifts a brow with a sigh. "Right I missed that stall. Too bad too, I had some theories I wanted to test. Suppose I will have to just bug the few who have them." She notes with a sigh. "Cute little bugger though." When Taikrin's arm drops away, Riorde glances at the brownrider, noticing something maybe amiss, but Taikrin's busy looking at the little green. Riorde leans forward to have a look too, both of her elbows coming to rest on the table with her fists loosely balled under her chin, not hunched but half-extended. Her gaze lifts when Devaki names the hatchling firelizard, in time to catch his smile and return it with a flash of a grin and humour bubbling up. "Short for sea monster?" Nathalia gets a glance next. "Theories? What can you theorise on with those things?" says the girl who's never seen a firelizard before, let alone never heard of one until one showed up in the barracks. "Thought I'd found some firelizard eggs, once," Taikrin muses idly. "It didn't work out." And then, as if recalling exactly how unpleasant that story actually is, she makes a face and draws back from her inspection of the messy little creature. "Not sure they're for me. Heard they could be useful, I guess?" There's more than a little doubt in the truth of that, especially with the way she's looking at the green. But then she's not looking at the firelizard anymore, but rather at Devaki. Then Riorde. "Sea monsters?" "Test?" Devaki, too, picks up on that word with a glance down at the firelizard, then back. He doesn't look particularly game for anything, judging by the wary look he gives the candidate. Sea's finished eating and has managed to curl herself into the tiniest possible ball within the crook of the islander's arm, earning a twitch of lips. "Uh-huh," he agrees with Riorde's guess, amusement in his expression. His gaze drifts to Taikrin, and he nods, glance dropping quickly away. "I-- I heard you can teach them to carry things. Messages." As for the sea monster, he gestures vaguely at Riorde as if encouraging his fellow islander to tell the story. Nat offers a bit of a sheepish grin at the question. "Well, Fire lizards are small and they chew firestone same as dragons. I'd have to be able to test exactly how hot they flame, and they can go 'between' to get to areas that you can't put under forge heat. Granted might be very difficult to train one but like I said it's a theory." There's a scratching of the back of her neck as her mind branches off on the possible uses. "Then again, It would be interesting to see if you could forge via dragon flame. Though maybe there would already be crafter's doing it if it were practical." She shrugs taking a long drink. "Fitting," Riorde decides, "though I'd just call it monster." She turns her head to the side, one fist now by her ear as she looks at Taikrin. "Something we used to scare kids with," Riorde starts to fill in. Scare ourselves with. You know -- stay out too late, wander a bit too far, the sea monster'll come and get you." She finally gathers herself and sits back into her chair, hands falling into her lap. "Some people'd swear it was true." Still ostensibly speaking to the brownrider, the exile looks at Devaki to include him in the conclusion of her summary. "Yeah, but," Taikrin questions uncertainly, "What /is/ it? Like, some kind of huge shipfish? Or pirates? Or a watchwher that escaped and learned to swim?" Nobody ever called her imaginative, that's for sure. With a final look at the firelizard, she shrugs then pushes back from the chair. "Reckon you'd have plenty of dragons willing to flame for you if you want to try it out, Nathalia," she offers distractedly while she gets to her feet with lanky grace. She doesn't go far, though, but rather leans down to murmur something in Riorde's ear. From the husky pitch of her voice and lascivious smile, it must be dirty. Louder, then, and with a mocking salute, "I'm off, me. See you all later." There's a pointed look for Riorde-- maybe later might actually be sooner? "They do?" Devaki seems surprised at this knowledge, peering down at the tiny creature. "This thing can chew firestone?" he sounds patently disbelieving of that. Nathalia's notions are, quite frankly, astounding for the islander, and there's no subtlety in the way his other hand curves protectively over the sleeping firelizard nestled in his arm. There's a reminiscent smile at Riorde's explanation, then, with certainty: "It was true. The sea monster existed. Just -- sometimes it was Xoami, and sometimes it was Io, and sometimes it was me. But it existed," he insists, chuckling. "It was a big creature, like a fish with scales, a huge fin. I don't--" he frowns over the mention of shipfish and watchwhers, having never seen either, and shrugs. "Different people, different ideas," says Riorde, shrugging off the suggestions as unimportant in themselves. "Noises in the dark." The explanations of the other islander cue her own recollection, a flash of sentimentality that is generally foreign to her features. It doesn't last long, especially not with Taikrin's remarks bringing her back to present. Spots of colour appear on her cheeks -- maybe the lighting is low enough to hide them. "See you later," she repeats; coming from her, it could sound less like farewell and more like agreement. |
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