Logs:Audience of Eyes
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| RL Date: 20 October, 2013 |
| Who: Gallagher, Hana |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Two Hold transplants cross paths in the stores. They have an audience. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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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.
And, perhaps, an assistant of a different sort, a bit of a shawl pulled up over her head to keep it neat and unsullied, and a board and bit of chalk in hand. Coming around the corner from where the fabrics are stacked, Hana comes to a sudden stop, "Oh, I beg your pardon!" hopefully in time for avoiding a collision. It's a lithe step that has Gallagher easing out of Hana's way, though she stops short so it's not really a necessary movement. Even the soft sound of her footfalls brought the brunette's attention from where his eyes were lingering. His lips pull a little, but the look never makes it past smirk to smile. "No need. I'm the one lollygagging in the pathway. If there'd been injury, I'd've surely been the cause." The baritone is mildly self-deprecating and polite. His eyes drift to Hana's shoulder, in search of knot as a clue to identity. Hana is rather lacking immediate proof of said knot, the shawl covering her head and shoulders rather thoroughly. There is a shake of the head, despite that, "I shouldn't have been coming around corners that quickly; thankfully, neither of us had arms full. That always ends up adding to any disasters." There is a pause, before she tilts her head. "I do not think I recognize you. I'm Hana. Are you needing help with something?" she asks, the smile fully evident, even if she does take her time in studying the young man in front of her. No, with that scar - she most certainly doesn't seem to recognize him. Gallagher's eyes don't linger once it's apparent that the knot is obscured, but instead return politely to the woman's face. "Thankfully, indeed, though the lack of collision and items going flying do reduce the humor for the audience," He glances behind himself tilting his head slightly toward the crate labeled 'tubers.' "Guess they'll have to use their eyes for something else." He moves on quickly from the bad joke, "Well met, Hana. I'm Gallagher, one of the candidates," as his white knot confirms. "And no, I was helping with re-arranging some of the crates earlier and I kept thinking there was a more organized way to do it, only, it's not come to me yet." So he must have been waiting for inspiration to strike. "But thank you kindly for the concern. Just keeping busy." Hana chuckles a bit ruefully, "A thought many has no doubt had; if you come up with something, you'll definitely have to share it with us," she lightly teases, making no move to, well, move on. "Are you liking it so far? Being a candidate?" she asks, a fair bit curious. "Surely will." Gallagher answers, his lips pulling just a touch further out of smirk and into smile territory, though it's a lop-sided thing. "Well, it's different. Different than growing up here and different than what I was doing before I came back here." There's a beat, "A trifle... disorganized, not to offend." But then, if these orderly crates aren't meeting his standard, that's likely a testament that nothing would or could. "But I'd say overall I'm liking it well enough. And you, Hana? Are you from here or recently relocated? I can't say as I recall your face from my growing up, and I'd like to think I'd remember such a face." Surely, he means because she's pretty, but he doesn't say so. "Transplant, oh... a good turn or so ago, from the Hold." Because, of course, in Hana's mind, there's only one hold to be from. High Reachians. "Grew up here, moved away, and now back again - well. That would give anyone a unique view on things here, I would say. And glad I'm hearing that the return is going well." "High Reaches?" Gallagher certainly infers, but asks for confirmation. "I'd say it might, but I'm just one man, so it's the opinion of a single mind and that mightn't count for much depending on the stakes." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, but otherwise is fidget-free, a quiet confidence to his bearing. "What about your return? A good turn or so later, still liking the choice?" The general amusement changes to a quick grin, even a bit impish. "Oh, most certainly. Despite all the excitement that seems to be just around the corner, it seems to be a much better fit - and, of course, guilty as charged." There is a tilt of the head towards the stacked boxes, "So, were you involved in arranging things at your hold?" Hana asks, a bit curious, "Or was that something you were herded to here?" "Despite all the excitement," Gallagher repeats and seems to hone in on the choice of wording, though he doesn't directly question the meaning. He only pauses long enough for her to elaborate should she wish to. "People," is his answer, "Organizing them, counting them, keeping an eye that they don't run off, or do run off in some cases." His smile slips back to smirk. "I was with the guard in Crom." He volunteers more directly then. "Give me a cup of tea, and a bit of embroidery, and the only time you'll see me happier is if I have a partner for a toss-dance," Hana alludes to as an explanation, before ah-hahing. "That must have been interesting in and of itself." There is a pause, then she smiles. "You'll have to share some stories if ever the free time comes." She gives a slight sigh, then lifts up her forgotten board. "I should go finish dealing with this project. Do you need a guide out," she teases, "before I bid a good evening?" "Ah." His noise of understanding doesn't include the 'hah' that hers does, but it comes at almost the same moment, prompting a brief wide smile that shows his single dimple. Gallagher falls silent again as she speaks, "I'm sure I can come up with some that aren't classified." He seems serious about the use of the word, though smile has turned back to amused smirk. "I think I'll chance finding my own way out, if only to give two more eyes in audience to watching you go, Hana." His tease is of a different color, but he steps to place his back so his head is next to the label 'tuber.' He probably should have quit while he was ahead. It takes a moment for the tease to be realized - Hana's halfway through her, "Well, good evening the...." before pausing halfway through the last word. Turning a bit dark, she turns towards the entrance, and just repeats over her shoulder, "Good evening!" "Evening!" It's a pleasant farewell, though true to his tease, Gallagher's eyes are not polite in their focus as she goes, though his amusement is plain enough on his face, so maybe the focus is just for show. |
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