Logs:Toyed With
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| RL Date: 13 June, 2013 |
| Who: C'wlin, Telavi |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Telavi visits, C'wlin listens; There's meat grabbing. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, HRW |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| OOC Notes: This scene is backdated to just after C'wlin and N'hax's failed attempt at espionage. |
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| Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room. For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here.
Normally, wingseconds do not deliver breakfast or lunch or anything else to the barracks. At least, not officially, though sometimes Tela and Quielle have their own side deals. But now that everyone's done with between lectures for the morning, including the recently-reclaimed miscreants, and most weyrlings have gone to the caverns for lunch... here comes Tela, soft-footing it in again, and if C'wlin continues to lie back and vegetate like that, she'll go right ahead and sit down atop his knees. At least it's not stand on him. With her boots. In lieu of a greeting, she stares. Vegetate, so accurate a description. Until Tela does the unexpected: "Really?" C'wlin partially leans up, frowning a fierce frown of wtf-ery at the greenrider's audacity to sit on his knees! His knees! Thank Faranth, she didn't stand. "Come to leave your commentary as well on how much we've screwed the weyr over?" Dour and unhappy, C'wlin is not in the mood for his usual harper smooth talking. That touch of Crom peeks through his words as the situation has sent him off-kilter. The thing about that accent is, now it's a whole lot more familiar, even to a Bendenite. "I could," Telavi says, keeping her perch for the moment to literally pin him down. "Would you like that? I figured you had enough for right now, I'd save mine for when you weren't expecting it. Sneaking up, like." She waves the small canvas sack she's got with her. "Or then there's lunch." The fact that he's not shaking her off is a good sign for C'wlin, given his after-getting-caught mood. "I'd rather have lunch. You can tell me about where you're going to go." You know, when they between. Unlike him and his bro, Hax. STUCK in the barracks. "Entertain me." Maudlin joke, yet real enough. Just wait until he sees the food. Telavi's never completely settled in, staying a little too ready to get up, and she doesn't settle now. Still, "For you." Into the bag she reaches, coming out with a sandwich and waterskin. Of course, his sandwich appears to be devoid of any tasty innards, but she hands it over anyway. Yes, it's bread. "Well," she says, "I was going to let you convince me to troop over to Harper Hall so you could dismount your big-to-them bronze dragon and look all authoritative and smile smirkily at all the kids that used to be apprentices with you." "Then you'd be in the same boat as I am," C'wlin comments, dryly, taking the sandwich without the tasty innards. He stares at it, but hey, food's food. "And you don't want that." He wiggles the sad little sandwich at her, "Trust me. Now if you were to let me convince you to sneak something more than dry bread and water..." Dot, dot, dot. "Are you seriously trying to compare your being dragged home in disgrace to simply selecting one place over another?" Telavi's got that much more of an erect posture, now, simply so she can look down her nose at C'wlin. "Because that's not going to happen. That is perfectly in the bounds. I don't know why you're shaking that limp little thing at me." She might be smiling a little smirkily, herself. "All I'm saying is, taking me out of the weyr would constitute unhappy tidings for you," C'wlin -- to be contrary -- shakes that sad little sandwich at her with each word. "Because it's not like it's going to taste good. At least it can amuse me." Bronzerider flops back onto his back, and consumes the sandwich. Their rations are thin, it is sad, she should feel sorry for them. Every last crumb is consumed. "No, no, you don't understand. That was the original plan. Before all this," Telavi says with a sigh, ending with a roll of her eyes at all that floppiness. "Before... well," in a tone very like Quinlys' own. As long as he's eating, she gets into the bag for her own lunch, which is a very nice sandwich indeed. Tasty fillings! For those who like such things, it smells good, too. "Oh." C'wlin deigns to not look at Telavi nor her evil sandwich. What else can the boy say? Not much. Offerings of explanations don't seem to be coming. He sticks the end of a bit of straw in his mouth. Maybe he's pretending it's a sweet, cinnamon baker's confection. "Mmm, tasty." Maybe Telavi's sandwich. Maybe his straw. "Mmmhmmm." The conversation's degenerated. C'wlin finds the ceiling so interesting. Look, all of a sudden, there's something floating down from the ceiling towards him: a sizeable shred of meat, held delicately between Telavi's fingers. She might be feeding a firelizard. It's too bad that C'wlin doesn't have a firelizard, though his reflexes are good and sharp. Is the meat easy to get? Because he'll quick-like yank. Whether he gets all or some, the tail end of it's getting nipped at the very least unless Telavi's quicker. Which is always possible. Not to worry, it's all quite deliberate on Telavi's part, not thooc at she makes it easy. That smugness edging her smile might owe something to Quinlys too, at least until she makes her smile all demure again. Or, mostly demure. "Where would you like to go for your early flights? There are so many options." "It's moot," C'wlin returns, having fished meat like a damned firelizard out of this girl's hand. "I can't between anywhere other than the weyr bowl." Petulant? Not really; he did this to himself and of /that/ he's not blind. "Ask me again when freedom's mine." "If you say so." Telavi's got her lashes, and a certain relaxed quality to the way she sits that's topped off by the tilt of her head, to disguise just how attentive she really is. "I hear Crom's nice..." The look Telavi gets from C'wlin, complete with slightly upraised brows, tells her he knows what she's up to. "I'm told the weyr's bowl is nice, which is what I will be seeing until freedom's mine." And that may tell her something right back, unless that sunny smile's for no reason at all. "Well, have a good time." Telavi moves to stand neatly, leaning forward over her ankles so as to not put any untoward pressure on his poor knees. Kneecapping, just not in the cards today, at least from her... but if he's reminded of it, who could be blamed? Looking down, at least provided that he hasn't interfered, "I'll be in touch." "It'll be fantastic," Sarcasm drips. C'wlin watches her stand, doing nothing to aid or stop. He's been in pretty much the same position the entire time. Too bad more meat doesn't fall from the heavens. "Later, Telavi." Back to... staring at the ceiling? Yep. He's killin' time, waiting for the powers that be to deal with him and his bro-in-arms. Telavi doesn't glance back more than once as she saunters for the outer cavern, but it turns out that, so sorry, she's a litterer. The wingsecond seems to have 'accidentally' left her own sack behind, with its slice of sweet dried-cherry bread and very tasty sandwich that just happens to have a few bites missing... but it would take looking down from that ceiling to see. Too bad the ceiling doesn't have mirrors, but C'wlin is perhaps sneakily watching Telavi's backside as she goes. He waits, much like a predator, until she's gone before pouncing on her sack. MANA FROM THE HEAVENS. Likely? He'll be thinking of Telavi tonight. Think on that one!
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