Jalila is sitting at the far right end of the table and about a quarter of the table's surface is littered with a variety of the young woman's belongings. Near the edge of the left side is a Butcher's apron along with a large assortment of knives, while there are three different stacks of clothing located near the center of the table. The young woman has a frown of concentration on her face as she glances back and forth at two particular garments that are draped over the very end of the table. One is a light tan tunic that is rather plain with no decorations and the other is a dark blue sweater with a bit of white trim around the cuffs and the neckline. Jalila gives a light sigh as she picks up the plain tunic and begins to carefully fold it. "This thing is worn but it'll do for a working outfit," the Butcher mutters to herself before she places the folded tunic on top of a pile of clothing. Most of the clothing in that pile seems to have a rather drab appearance or they have some minor problems such as holes, tears, etc. The blue sweater is the next one to be folded and although she doesn't comment on it; the pile of clothing she sets it on top of appears to be of better quality with a few minor decorations and they are also more colorful than the clothing in the opposite pile. Once that issue is attended to Jalila pushes the chair back away from the table and then quickly pushes herself back onto her feet. The clothing that she currently wears is a pale gray sweater with a shallow neckline and a pair of charcoal black trousers and her short pale brown boots are a lined around the top with dark-brown fur. Jalila's sienna brown hair has been left loose but it has also been combed so that her hair falls evenly on both sides of her head. With the two piles of clothing complete the young woman bends over to open her new clothing trunk, which she had brought out from the dormitory to put her thing is. The old wooden trunk has a rather worn appearance and it gives a loud audible creak the moment that she lifts open the lid. Jalila quickly straightens up and looks around to make sure that the noise hasn't disturbed anyone.
It's hard to disturb anyone in the buzz of the common room - the butcher isn't the only person sorting or working in the space. There's a group of seamstresses in a sewing circle, one of which eyes those worn clothes of hers with interest; a few kids heading out that skirt wide of the table the with big freaking knives; an older man napping by the hearth even though it's only mid-morning. And there's Brieli - a tall, lean brunette entering from the cavern with a plate piled high with fresh pastries and a steaming mug in hand. She calls a greeting over to the sewing circle, though the seamstress doesn't join them for her break - imagine that. Instead, her dark gaze scouts the tables until she falls on Jalila's; the knives certainly give her pause, but there's a thoughtful air that comes over her, and her steps take her to the empty end of the table. Her plate is already slid to the surface with a thunk before she asks, "Do you mind company?"
Jalila takes a moment to look around the common room and it appears that nobody has even noticed the noise, which makes complete sense considering how loud the noise level is. It doesn't really bother her since she is used to loud noises; she grew out with several siblings afer all. It does take her long to notice the kids skirting around the table and she gives a little nod of approval at their actions. She wouldn't want a child to accidentally hurt themselves with one of her knives. As soon as the thought crosses Jalila's mind she realizes that it's best to get those put away first; after all an accident could happen and she would be fully responsible if one did. The first thing that the young woman does is pick up a couple of the largest knives and slide them in their leather sheaths in order to keep the edges sharp and to keep curious youngsters from touching the edges. She then unfolds a large flat square piece of leather that has several loops in it and that is where she slides in several of the smaller knives. The largest knives are placed in the center and once everything appears to be secured she folds the square of leather up just like she would a towel, although it is significantly stiffer than one. Jalila then carefully picks up the folded piece of leather and deposits it in the very bottom of the trunk, which will make it more difficult to reach once her other stuff is piled on top of it. However; the Butcher is soon distracted from her organizing when the tantalizing smell of fresh pastries reaches her nostrils. She looks up with her dark hazel eyes and tries to locate the source of the smell and she doesn't have to look very far to tell where it's coming from. Her gaze falls upon a fellow resident and one eyebrow lifts in surprise when the other woman asks if she can join her. People had been avoiding the table because of the knives but apparently they didn't bother the other resident. Jalila gives a smile of welcome and then nods, "Of course, you're certainly welcome to join me. My name is Jalila and I just recently arrived here...although I guess with all this stuff that's pretty obvious," she rambles on before tilting her head to the side, "And who might you be if you don't mind me asking?"
"Excellent." Brieli is already dropping into her chair, setting her mug down beside the plate carefully. It takes absolutely no time for her to tear into a cinnamon bun, looking extremely satisfied. After her bite, after a sip of klah, she notes, "It does look that way. You have a lot of things. Knives. I imagine there's a reason for that?" It takes another bite or two before introducing herself. "I'm Brieli. I moved here about a month or so ago. It's not so bad, so far, though I hear the winter may take some getting used to. Where did you come from?" She slides the plate toward Jalila to offer her a pastry or two, arching fine brows questioningly.
Jalila takes a moment to clear some of her things to one side so that they don't get in the other resident's way. The smell of the food is making her feel hungry but she's not about to go asking for food off of someone else's plate. Besides; she's more interested in finding out more about who she is. Jalila gives a soft chuckle and then nods in agreement, "It's a pleasure to meet you Brieli and you're right; I do have a lot of stuff. Actually, that's the reason that I have everything spread out like this. That way I can organize what I have and throw out or give away anything that I don't need; depending on what is is of course. The knives are necessary for me to do my work because I'm a Butcher. I know it's an unusual profession for a girl but my Uncle taught me and it's really the only thing I'm trained for. Ah, so it sounds like you are relatively new here too and yes I've heard rumors about the winters here, though I have yet to experience it. Oh I'm from Tillek Hold, though I was fostered out to Keroon for most of my turns. How about you; where are you from?" Jalila suddently hears the plate sliding along the table and looks down in inquiry. She is delighted to see that Brieli is offering her some pastries and it's too much for her to be able to resist, especially since she had neglected eating in order to get more organizing done. "Thank you," she informs Brieli simply before helping herself to a pastry and taking a delicate bite. She wasn't about to ask for food but since it was offered...well it was just too good to pass up. "So what has it been like living here so far? I'm afraid I don't know all that much about High Reaches Weyr yet," Jalila admits in a chagrined tone.
Brieli isn't really about delicate bites - she's about eating as much as the pastry as possible as quickly as possible. It's really at odds with her cultured tones and easy poise. Having the grace to look a little embarrassed as she manages to put away the rest of that cinnamon roll in record time, she points out, dragging the plate back, "Some of the clothes look like they just need some mending and they'll be good enough for stores. If you want, you can give them to me and I'll make sure they get sorted." Isn't she helpful? Thoughtfully, "I think someone else just got here from Tillek, but I can't recall who - anyway. Butcher. Really." The seamstress sounds fascinated, asking, "How long have you done that? And I'm from Crom, which is not as interesting as living here. I'm definitely finding here more to my liking, so far. Though I am afraid I don't know that much more about it - I'm still learning, and things here are somewhat - complicated."
Jalila is a bundle of contradictions sometimes because her mother brought her up with proper Holder manners but then her Uncle was the polar opposite. Jalila grins slightly at Brieli's embarrassed look and is tempted to tell her not to worry about it but that would mean bringing it up in the first place. However, to make her feel more at ease and because she is hungry; the Butcher promptly gobbles down the rest of her pastry and pauses only long enough to wipe some crumbs away from the corners of her mouth. Jalila perks up a little at hearing the possibility of the older clothes being mended and gives Brieli a grateful look, "If you could do that I would really appreciate it because it seems like such a waste to throw out clothing, especially if there are others who really need it." Jalila doesn't hesitate to pick out the pile of clothes that is in need of mending before pushing them across the table towards Brieli, though not far enough to interfere with the food or the mug. Her eyes widen a bit once she learns that there is someone else recently arrived from Tillek, "Oh really? Well I'd certainly like to find out who at some point, though I doubt I would know them since I was gone from Tillek for so long." The resident can't resist chuckling at the fascinated tone and replies, "Really, really; I've been doing it since I was about twelve turns, though I wasn't really allowed to do anything major until I was older but that's when my Uncle started to teach me. So that would be approximately seven turns, though I could be wrong about that. It's an interesting job but certainly not for everyone, especially with the amount of blood it involves. I have to keep a separate set of working clothes from my regular clothes for that reason and unfortunately the working clothes tend to get ruined rather fast." Suddenly the revelation that the young woman is from Crom sinks in and her muscles tense up immediately. In fact she almost reconsiders her request for Brieli to mend the clothes then and there but she forces herself to take a deep breath and calm down. After all, what would the chances be that Brieli could be responsible for the death of the heir? It makes no sense but even so she finds herself in the midst of an internal struggle. Her father had brought her up with a prejudice against those from Crom, which unfortunately warred with her normally friendly and outgoing nature. Jalila eventually manages to get her emotions sorted out enough that she asks a question, "Complicated, how so?" the young woman inquires and her tone isn't quite as friendly as it used to be. It's the fault of Jalila's own upbringing of course and none of Brieli's.
Systematically destroying the rest of her plate as she crosses one leg over the other, Brieli nods from the pile of clothes over to the sewing circle with a tilt of her chin. Between pastries, she tells Jalila, "Me and the rest of that lot should be able to manage that within the day. I'm sure the Weyr will appreciate the offer." She really emphasizes 'Weyr', particularly at the butcher's shift in mood and tone after revealing her origins; the twist of her mouth might indicate the reaction is not uncommon. Even so, she continues as if nothing had happened. "Definitely not for everyone. Not for me. The only blood I deal with is when I prick my finger. And..." A pause to sip her klah, to consider. Careful, "This clutch on the sands is complicated. Apparently, the Weyrwoman is complicated. Relations with the holds seem to be complicated." Shrug. "It's a lot to take in."
Jalila feels guilty for reacting the way she did but despite her best efforts to put her prejudice aside; a niggling sense of doubt still remains. Even if Brieli had nothing to do with it; what if she knew someone who did? She knew it was a foolish and paranoid suspicion but it just wouldn't go away. It made no sense, especially considering the fact that Brieli had been kind to her since the moment they had met. The young woman winced at the emphasis of the word Weyr, which meant that Brieli had caught on pretty quickly about how Jalila felt towards the Cromese. "I'm sure they will," Jalila replied shortly though her guilt just increased with every word that she spoke. Did she really have the right to judge this one person just because she was from Crom? It certainly didn't seem very right to her but she couldn't just turn off her emotions. "You're right it's not an easy job and it can be messy at times but at least it puts meat on the table and that's part of the diet of many, whether it be people or firelizards. Jalila then gave a soft sigh and sank back in her chair, "It is all very complicated and it shouldn't be, especially in terms of Hold relations. I agree with you there; it's not easy to process but then again nothing comes easily these days. Well I'd tell you more about my job as a Butcher but it's not something I think anyone would want to hear, so why don't you tell me more about your life as a Seamstress?" Jalila was trying to change it to a lighter subject before things got too depressing.
There's one roll left behind on Brieli's plate, and whether Jalila has issues with Crom or not, it seems a shame to waste food. Sliding it across the table and around the pile of clothes, she remains oblivious to any wincing on the butcher's part - or at least, she's pretending to be. "Do people get put off by it often? I mean, when you meet someone, are they horrified or do they think you're some sort of... I don't know... Do you know what I mean?" Unable, or unwilling to elaborate, she abandons the effort for her mug. "People make things complicated - it is what it is. And my life as a seamstress?" She gives a little laugh. "It's awfully dull, but we have a lot of time to gossip."
Jalila is grateful that things seem to be getting back on track despite her less than gracious behavior. The young woman gratefully accepts the roll and this time she doesn't both with a delicate little bite. It's gone so fast that she might as well have inhaled it and the only evidence that it ever existed at all is the numerous crumbs scattered across the plate. Jalila isn't aware that Brieli saw her wince but she that's because she just wants to pretend that her unpleasantness had never happened. It was best to let it go and not to dwell on it, especially since there were so many bigger problems in life to deal with. Her eyebrows suddenly raise a little at Brieli's question and she nods in confirmation, "I think I do and yes I tend to get that reaction sometimes...though I can't really say that I blame them. I was terrified at first when I realized what my Uncle did for a living and I was afraid of him at first. He didn't want me to be afraid of him and he thought that if I understood more about the job he did then I might lose my fear of him. It worked a little better than he bargained for I think because after getting to know him better over several sevendays I actually asked him to teach me. He was hesitant to do so at first because he didn't really think it was an appropriate job for a woman but eventually he relented. If it wasn't for him I don't know what I'd be doing today. Likely I'd have been stuck at home looking after all my youngest siblings in Tillek and that wasn't something I'd want to do for the rest of my life. At last I have something I'm good at and even if it isn't the most glamorous job in the world it's still productive." She paused for a moment from her explanation before leaning forward a little, "Yes, it's true; they do make things more complicated than they need to be. It sounds like you have a nice peaceful job compared to mine. Well since it sounds like you get all the latest gossip, would you mind sharing some with me? Any interesting news lately?" the Butcher asks in an eager tone.
Finishing her klah, Brieli sets the mug aside in favor of the pile of castoff clothing, pulling them over to her to examine them. Wiggling her finger through a hole in one worn shirt, "Interesting. I'd always thought people were suited or born into a profession like that; I suppose it makes sense that you could get used to it. Anyone can get used to anything, after long enough. And I can see how some might think it less than ladylike." Flicking dark hair out of her eyes, she has a sympathetic glance for Jalila, noting, "I doubt anyone will think it an issue here, if you're concerned." Taking up the clothes under her arm, she rises. "Low-stress - that's what I enjoy. And the latest gossip - there was a clutching feast and the Weyrwoman didn't show." She arches her brows significantly. "And I should get back to work. I'll take these to the girls. Welcome, Jalila." The seamstress heads off to the circle of her colleagues, humming to herself.
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