Logs:Storeroom Shopping
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| RL Date: 28 March, 2013 |
| Who: Telavi, K'zin, Rasavyth |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Tela and K'zin are "shopping" for new work clothes. Chit chat and dramatics ensue. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Heavy, driving rain makes everything a wet and muddy mess today. |
| Mentions: C'wlin/Mentions, Vienne/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions, Alida/Mentions |
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| Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr 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 outside each cavern, the better to ward off pests and the inky dark of deep caves. K'zin is always covered in ooze. Rasavyth's charm is a constant envelopment of his mind. While the ooze is something that is odd and perhaps uncomfortable to other's minds, for K'zin, it's a comfort. Some part of it reaches back to memories he may not even have of being enclosed safe in mother's womb. Before sight, before sound, before breath, there was warm, comforting ooze. Not all make that connection, and nor does K'zin on a conscious level. All he knows is that the constant submersion in his lifemate's way of being makes him feel protected and at ease (when Ras isn't making that impossible). (K'zin to Rasavyth) It's that time in a baby dragon's life: the time when they still need oilings, help with bloody feedings and still use their lifemates as personal pooper-scoopers. All of these activities take a lot out of a pair of work clothes, so it's no wonder that weyrlings are seen with regularity rooting through (with the supervision of a stores worker) the hand-me-down options, since this is likely to be their last life. There's nothing too chewed up, as those would've just been converted to rags, but nothing suitable for a fancy party, for sure. After lectures are done for the day, but before crowds flock to the living cavern for their dinners, K'zin can be found going through a large crate of dark-colored shirts. No doubt they've been dyed that way so as to hide all the stains that came before. His brown eyes examine the patch job on the shoulder of a long-sleeved tunic. "Waste my marks on that? Dream on." This is muttered under his breath with a snort, likely a reaction to some silent comment from He-Who-Has-Opinions-On-Everything. The shimmering ooze ripples with Rasavyth's tenor purr. « But come now, my K'zin, none of these are suitably impressive. I understand that your work now is dirty, but we must always project ourselves as we intend to be. Intention is a powerful thing. And someday, perhaps not so long from now, we shall be able to keep our hands clean. Just one outfit wouldn't be so expensive. » Rasavyth's concept of the worth of a mark is skewed. Not because he doesn't understand it, but because he feels firmly that given the chance, he can make a thirty-second piece become a full mark with some minor manipulations of the world around him. If only K'zin would consent to participate in some of his plans. (Rasavyth to K'zin) Telavi, who had been lost leaning over a barrel of boots, pops her head back out. "What?" That was a little too loud. "They're going to charge us for these? Faranth's flaming tits!" There's a flash in her eyes, less mad as such than offended to the point of starting to drop the overalls slung over one arm before she catches them again. Thankfully, the stores assistant is busy mediating a dispute over a particularly nice and not-so-holey pair of trousers a ways off when Tela's curses find breath, so there's no chastisement or extra attention drawn their way. K'zin's surprised eyes had gone to first Tela then to the local authority and back before bursting into a laugh. "Shells no. You suggest that a little louder and they might start though. Been few enough 'Reaches folks I've met that wouldn't con an easy mark from some unsuspecting -- well, mark." As Tela's comment suggests she might be. "No. Rasavyth doesn't care for the hand-me-downs. He thinks I ought to get something commissioned." He snorts, "Can you imagine how long a brand new work outfit would stay brand new with all the--" Instead of saying the words he quickly mimes a motion for meat chopping (though they don't have to do that part anymore), a circular rub at the air for oiling and then a bent over shovel motion for mucking. "Was saying it'd be a waste of a mark. Sometimes I say it aloud when I mean it for him. Feels like it reinforces things sometimes." Patent relief catches up with Telavi with his first words, not that she bothers looking at the stores assistant at all, nor that other argument for that matter... which doesn't mean she doesn't heft a boot in one hand like she'd throw it at K'zin for leading her on, accidentally or no. "I wouldn't be surprised if they would," she says, crinkling up her nose. "Name names, help out a poor mark, here. I'm glad this place hasn't gone that far downhill, to charge!" Hilarity's entered her eyes by now, her deep-dimpled smile, probably at all his motions and she ties the boot back to its mate and drops the pair back in. "I'm glad that helps, too. I don't need that with Soli, of course, but you never know..." she tries to get all shifty-eyed, but really, it doesn't work so well with that smile. "As for the clothes, you might just happen to know a seamstress. Just maybe." K'zin's eyes blink innocently over at Tela and her boot. Who could lob at a face like that? He throws the shirt he was examining over one shoulder before reaching into the crate to pull up another. "I'd love to, Tela, really. I would. Only, I can't. You see, there's the Code of the Caverns to be considered. I grew up here. They swear you in when you're fourteen. After that, there's no divulging of sensitive information to outsiders. Even outsiders who're becoming insiders. You'll have to wait until they swear you in, too, to get the inside scoop." His tone and expression are entirely nonchalant, very convincingly serious. "They usually wait until after the betweening lesson for weyrlings. No point in swearing a person in if they're just going to go--" He coughs. "Sorry. There I go bringing up our eventual deaths again." He's so good at sorting out all the whichways they could die. "A seamstress, hmm? Now, what kinds of things might help from said seamstress cost me?" He tries to seem entirely disinterested, but it's obvious that some part of him (perhaps the part being encouraged by the dragon in his head) is genuinely curious about procuring such services. But is one outfit really worth it? There's a mental siiiigh. Just because you're the reason I tripled my life savings doesn't mean you get to decide how I spend it. The statement is petulant. Petulance, K'zin should know by now, will not get him far in retaining the rights to his marks. (K'zin to Rasavyth) The ooze curls into a cylinder, a void of nothing between the shimmers creating eyes and the cylinder snakes it's way round and through K'zin's thoughts, sinuous in its travelling. « Why, my K'zin, you are so very right. » K'zin should know he's in trouble now. « The first twelve marks that you put down are yours, clear and free. I'd say you'd earn a finder's fee for placing the bet, so we can add another, let's say five marks to that? The rest is mine. Without me, you wouldn't have won, and therefore I get to determine the purpose for the rest of the winnings. » The winding that had seemed haphazard, is suddenly all too clear in its purpose as it tightens, choking K'zin's resistance before it has a chance to begin. (Rasavyth to K'zin) Does Tela seem to genuinely believe him at first? Certainly she appears to be going along with it as she picks up the next set of boots, her eyes going big and round and green with amazement, and it's with excruciating slowness that her expression becomes dismay, her mouth going round too with her lips tucked so it won't be quite so toothy, until at last her hand goes to her mouth with a great, pained gasp. "Oh, K'zin!" Shock, horror! "Say it's not so!" Never mind payment, "I don't want to di-i-ie!" and with that she's flinging herself towards him like she'd clutch onto his shoulders for mercy. And if she does manage to get one of those boots printing its sole across his shirt front along the way... well, time to hope it's clean. The green weyrling's dramatic reaction comes as a surprise to K'zin, his arms coming up to grasp Tela's shoulders as she reaches for his. Brows are high on his face, and he doesn't notice, at least yet, that he's been marked by the dusty boot sole. "Well, I suppose that's really up to you and Solith. You know, that studying and focus thing the weyrlingmasters are always rattling on about." Speaking of marks, K'zin appears to have been taken in by even so obviously dramatic action. One hand moves awkwardly to her back to pat. "There, there." To Rasavyth, K'zin's submission is immediate. He's just not one to fight back against the stronger mind. At least, not obviously. Fine. « Good. » The pressure releases immediately and the shimmers resume their comfortable and rather beautiful winking. « She's putting you on, you know. » This is accompanied by a widening of the maw in a mental yawn. « She's not even a good actress. Come now, K'zin. » (Rasavyth to K'zin) "I-I-I," and is she sobbing into his shirt front? Really? "Don't think that focusing on d-d-dying is a good idea! It just leads to more dying! At B-Benden they don't die," and that might be a little further over the top but then she goes on, "not going /between/ anyway and the studying's horrible and..." abruptly Telavi lifts her head, her cheeks flushed but her eyes sparkling with nothing at all to do with tears. Sudden suspicion, maybe. "Oh. Ew." Funny how holding her nose means concealing her mouth as she seeks to step back, not that she doesn't have some of her own weyrling sweat, yet another thing to 'thank' the weyrlingmasters for. Though Tela is continuing her charade, K'zin's face begins to look confused. Peering down at the other weyrling as this goes on. Someone's tipped him off! Someone smarter than he is. When she pulls away, therefore, he is not as surprised as he might have been that there are no tears in evidence. His smile goes wide at her reaction though, in the same way that a six turn old boy might be delighted when the worms he's dug unsettles a nearby girl of about the same age. "That's what you get for faking." K'zin responds cheekily. "Bathing is after extra exercise and before dinner. This is eating into my training time." He does love to punish his body out in the bowl. Not that the rain that's dominated the day makes that an appealing idea. "Next time, plan it better to be after my bath." He recommends with a grin, hands long-since having dropped away from her shoulders. Wholly unfair. Telavi doesn't have a canny conspirator on her side. That she knows about, anyway. Now she wrinkles her nose at the other weyrling, "Ha!" and directs a look down the aisle for the stores assistant. Not that Tela can quite keep her smile from glowing as she checks the boots' soles. "Imagine if we had really needed help, choking or something. She'd have let us die. As it is, if this takes much longer, it'll 'eat' into our 'eating,' not just training. Why the big push, anyway? All we'll be doing is a lot of sitting." K'zin is just lucky. His eyes follow hers to the stores assistant and chuckles, "Yeah. Probably wouldn't've noticed until the dragons were keening or whatever they do for the death of their rider when they can't *between*." For one who talks about the various ways weyrlings can die too often, this thought, the one of their dragons without them, he does look decidedly disturbed, worrying at his lower lip with upper teeth. "Why not? I'm used to being in the forge. My body started feeling kind of-- weak?" Not that he lost any of his spiffy muscles, "So I wanted to get in some extra. Made it harder to sleep without all the exercise." His stomach betrays a little growl, as though Tela's words reminded it that it'd like to request some food. "Maybe dinner will have to come before training tonight." He allows. "Keening," Telavi confirms, or maybe guesses, but if it's a guess she seems to think she knows what she's talking about. That bright gaiety's slipped and she ducks her head, picking up the overalls that had fallen. Next are a few blouses she'd been deciding between. "It makes more sense when you put it that way. I like being awake at night, though, it's quieter." In the end she winds up going with all the blouses, tucking them into the folds of the overalls for safekeeping. "I wonder if I should drop these off before the meal, or if they'd hold them... that reminds me, I talked to C'wlin like you said," and here she does glance back at K'zin and his possibly-printed shirt. "He said he wanted me to get a bunch of books and read them, and there's just no time for that." "Really?" K'zin sounds disappointed in C'wlin's reaction. After all, nice, clever, considerate C'wlin would never not help a friend in need, right? Probably, if such a C'wlin existed anywhere but in K'zin's naive mind. "Oh." He purses his lips, "Guess we'll have to get our history somewhere else. Maybe Rider Vienne could give us a crash course so we can test out of all those stupid extra classes?" He suggests at the only other former Harper he's personally acquainted with. "Night-time is alright, but I love a good night's sleep as much as the next guy. Ever run into N'ky? He's got a lot of trouble sleeping at night." He brow wrinkles momentarily, "I wonder if it's normal to have so many weyrlings who are awake at night. Then again, the more I see of us and our lifemates I wonder if this class can be classified as anything close to normal. I mean, it's a class with Alida in it. How normal could we get?" He glances to her selected clothes, "I could drop them by the barracks for you, if you want?" "He wasn't awful about it," Telavi says quickly, "He just thinks there's a 'right way to learn.' Me, I would absolutely go for a crash course... before it's too late," and she must be getting back to normal, given all the ominous weight she puts on that last phrase. She leans back against the barrel, stretching. "N'ky I see sometimes, but I don't want to disturb him." Or be disturbed, perhaps. As for normal, Tela doesn't agree in words, just a subtly wicked laugh on the heels of Alida's name. "I could learn a thing or two from her, maybe. But, K'zin, that would be wonderful." She has such a luminous smile to thank him with. And, not that a girl could possibly think that her garments might encounter mishap in the hands of 'nice, kind, considerate' K'zin, but perhaps it will serve to diminish the likelihood further that she assures, "I have a feeling the seamstress might be happy to help you out, another time." "I wouldn't think that he would be." K'zin seems confused by the idea that C'wlin might be awful about anything. "But it's a shame he wasn't willing to help. I'd've thought..." He shrugs. "You could learn a lot from her. Only some of it's helpful." K'zin's answer of Alida seems to be complicated from his expression. They are seen doing their extra physical training together on a fairly regular basis, though they don't exactly seem to be friends. "No problem. I'll drop them on your press." He holds out an arm for the clothes. "Unless you want me to drop them straight in the laundry after I've been holding them?" His tone holds good-humor. "Tell the seamstress Rasavyth would be most grateful. And as a result, me as well." "Mmm," and Telavi purses up her mouth and moves it from side to side irresolutely, managing to stave off further explanation's devolving into 'helping vs. helping-helping' territory. But her face doesn't freeze that way. "Thank you. Just don't tuck them in your armpit and we'll be fine," she teases. "I'll sign them out on my way out, and be sure to pass on the message, you know, sometime at my leisure." Walking over to hand over the goods, she also delivers a fleeting curtsey before skipping off long, loping strides to set words to action. "Bye!"
CommentsAzaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 29 Mar 2013 09:01:25 GMT. <
Weyrlings gonna weyrling. x3 That bit with Rasavyth mentally choking K'zin was a little intense. ._.; No doubt it's working~
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Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 29 Mar 2013 09:01:25 GMT.
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Weyrlings gonna weyrling. x3 That bit with Rasavyth mentally choking K'zin was a little intense. ._.; No doubt it's working~
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