Logs:Lunch with the In Crowd
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2012 |
| Who: Lia, Brieli |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Brieli hangs out with the weyrbred weyrlings. Daehyeth's rider is curious about her. Brieli discovers a few things too. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Snowy |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, Val/Mentions |
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| Yay, more snow! Drifts of it, sticky and making little piles and trails on the way into the living cavern before it dissolves into a slushy mess. As such, the lunchtime crowd is a bit quicker to move in past the door and on to food and drink and seats, hopefully nearer the hearths than not. There's apparently weyrlings that are no fools, fast, or both - a long table has been secured near the warmth of fires and kitchens where a group of them eat and chat; Brieli is with them, but sits on the end of the table, trying to listen, edit some crumpled notes around her plate, and eat at the same time. The tall girl is doing none of the above very well, blinking over at one boy, question missed entirely. "What? Sorry?" He waves her off, rolling his eyes at her - a change, really. "He asked if you wanted to join in the snowball fight later. Dragons versus riders." Lia, normally more involved in the group of Weyrbred weyrlings as a bright flickering center, interjects from across the table at Brieli. A dry smile fashions and a hand sneaks over to help press out a particularly crumpled edge to those notes. "I think he's just hoping to stuff snow down the backs of pretty girls. Are you eating this?" A cheese topped bun is plucked off of the gold weyrling's plate before she can respond and Daehyeth's rider takes a nibble. There's a wink and an unrepentant, "A tax." "Oh. Well. Now that I know about it, I'm not like to get out of it," Brieli notes a bit wryly. Glancing around for Azaylia before she asks, "Did someone tell Hraedhyth about this? Because I wonder if the concept of 'fight' being entertaining and not 'to the death' would occur to her if not properly explained." Eyeing the notes, she misses Lia's hand sneaking in for the cheese bun until it's too late; with a tragic sigh, "Foiled. That one is warm too." There's another sitting on her plate still for all her complaining. "Are you going to risk having snow stuffed down your back? I imagine you're good with snowballs?" "Aw, you're sweet to think I'm pretty," replies Lia. The purloined bun is being ripped into tiny shreds onto her mostly empty plate; the smaller pieces dregged through the leftover gravy of her meal. But for all her teasing return, it's clear the dark-haired woman considers herself in that 'pretty' camp as well as she slips a glance down at O'rel, consideringly. "I might have to think about it. Daehyeth isn't much for the snow, but if it means cavorting with the brown and blue dragons-..." The greenrider shrugs, her smile shifting winningly from O'rel to Brieli. She doesn't have to say it, not really, the resigned amusement sketched deeply in her face says it all: she's a green's green at heart, what can you do? "I don't think so. Do you think Iesaryth will want to tell Hraedhyth about a fight that's not to the death?" Giving the other weyrling an amused look, Brieli flickers a glance back at the notes before sighing and giving up entirely in favor of folding them up, stuffing them away, and tearing into the other warm bun. Her plate still has cheeses and meats and vegetables on it, all piled up untidily - it's all going to the same place. After a bite of bread, "Iesaryth doesn't love the cold, but she definitely thinks it'll be interesting. And... Well. Yes, I think she might, but I don't know how many of the blanks she'd fill in just to see what happened. So... perhaps I'll find Azaylia in a bit." To avoid disaster. As for Lia and her smile, her resignation, "Has she always noticed them? It seems so soon to me, but..." She shrugs. What does she know? Lia's smile warms, that familiar glaze of a rider's fondness for her dragon glassing her eyes over for a moment. "I think we just happen to be copacetic. She's just more overt than I am. But I think that's only because she's young. She's fascinated with how much larger they are and their color, and their mental voices. O'rel's brown and she have a particular rapport, but I've also known his rider since we were naked babies running around the lower caverns." She's a quick and tidy eater, polishing off the rest of her shredded pieces of bun with a kiss to her finger tip. "I've been curious about you." Which might explain her not so typical lunch seating. "Crom-bred. Monaco Impressed. Now Reaches loyal?" It's all said with the most beatific of smiles, and hints at nothing other than what she said initially: simple curiosity. "A lot of us are. Curious. Where you consider home." With her own slight smile, Brieli murmurs, "Funny how that works out. Copacetic." Tilting her head as she takes up her fork, she asks, tone casual as she glances between O'rel and Lia, "So, that makes a difference - or can? Relationships between people can affect the ones between dragons? I suppose that stands to reason, but I never assumed." Convenient that her dark gaze should shift down to her plate just as the line of questioning shifts, now interested in her salad. Easily, "And why shouldn't you be, or anyone? It's all unusual circumstances, at a time where things are uncertain. I never considered Crom to be home, really. When I came back from Monaco, that felt like coming home." Looking up to the greenrider with a shrug, simply; "I haven't had much to tie me anywhere before. I do now." "Does a dragon really make a place your home though?" Lia slips this question in before she's observing Brieli's plate like a hunter (or gatherer) might scope out new food sources. She reaches across and slips away with a sliver of cheese to nibble on, in a much slower fashion than the roll she dispatched earlier. "I don't know how much of what we think and do affects are dragons opinions. The exiles haven't really fallen into line like all the others, so it stands to reason that... something of what we think and how we think becomes a part of the dragon too? Then again, Azaylia and Hraedhyth- she seems like such a sweet girl with such an interesting dragon." The Reachian born and bred girl's lips purse, but what she means to say next hesitates as she observes Brieli. "Not Iesaryth," Brieli says, without hesitation. "If a dragon made a place your home, I suppose I would have felt the same about Monaco - though the humidity really did nothing for my hair." She wrinkles her nose at Lia, waving off the pilfering from her plate with her fork. Spearing cheese with a piece of redfruit, "I feel I know people here - not that many, but it's - something. I'm not really sure what makes a place a home. -- And - I suppose." Seeming a bit confused, brows drawn together, "How are they supposed to fall in line?" Watching the Reachian girl for a moment or two, she hazards a guess, non-judgmental; "You believe that she's 'interesting' because of the exile factor? Free advice: don't say that near the barracks." A beat before, "I'm sure each will shape the other as time goes on." Lia puts the half-eaten piece of cheese down on the table, rather than her plate, by her cooled klah mug. She seems to take the advice in stride, and the confusion merits no explanation of what she means. Then there's: "There are no goldriders at High Reaches who are of this area anymore. Except you. Satiet died. Teris was transferred. It's been a long time since we've had a weyrwoman of the Reaches. And with the situation what it is," again no elaboration or opinion, "We," this nebulous group that she emphasizes with a small gesture to the rest of the caverns, "Can't help but notice what you and Azaylia do. Lujayn is of Fort. Iolene's lineage is dubious and Ysavaeth supposedly never looked to Iovniath as the senior queen. You can't fault us for wanting our home to thrive." Brieli considers this for a long moment over her cheese and redfruit. "Goldriders do seem to move around an awful lot," she notes, almost as an aside. Then, "Iesaryth isn't of High Reaches, but Leiventh was. Maybe still is. We." She says this last with a glance around the caverns before looking back to Lia, but she doesn't ask for clarification. "What do you notice us doing? Anything interesting yet? And..." She sets down her fork, apparently done with food for the moment as well. Tapping the top of it lightly, she can agree, "No one can be faulted for caring about their people or their home. I wonder, however, that the youth of leaders was not the issue in the first place, turns ago. But..." Meeting Lia's gaze, quite honestly, "I can understand where you're coming from." "You do?" Does she really? But any dubiousness Lia might have is masked behind the comfortable good cheer that the green weyrling generally presents to the world. "That's good. I'm glad you're not taking my questions personally." What have Azaylia and Brieli done, or Lujayn and Iolene for that matter, that have caught the attention of the masses? Liaske doesn't elaborate on that either. The discarded piece of cheese is reclaimed and Daehyeth's rider sinks backwards into her seat. The small piece is popped wholly into her mouth and chewed on, perhaps in the same thoughtful manner her head 'chews' on recent events and this particular conversation. "O'rel's a good kisser, if you're wondering, by the way. We were each other's first and I can assure you, if he does shove snow down your back, it's meant in the most innocent of flirtatious ways. And," her finger lifts, as if punctuating the most important part, "That you're pretty." "I might." Brieli has one of her enigmatic smiles for that, picking up a bit of cheese bun and popping it into her mouth. If Lia isn't going to offer up much information about the royal we or what impression she might be leaving on High Reaches as a whole, why give up any info herself. "And no, there's no sense in taking it personally. I expect this is what it'll be like from now on." Though her cultured tones are mostly good-naturedly accepting, there's a little resignation thrown in there too - it is what it is. Flickering a look down at the brown weyrling for a moment, considering, "I wasn't, but it's good to know should it come up. Though I get the impression we're not even supposed to be doing anything that's meant in the most innocent of flirtatious ways right about now. I hope snow-stuffing doesn't warrant punishment." Horrors! She doesn't seem too worried about her relative prettiness. Lia's shoulders move with the ease of one born and bred in this system; that while rules might exist, sometimes, the bending of them doesn't hurt too much. Most of the time. Well, that last sentiment twitches about the corners of her knowing little smile. "Can't help but dream of the day when we've regained some freedom, especially now that I'm finally sleeping through the night again. Hey, Brieli?" As if this whole conversation hasn't already claimed the 'younger' gold weyrling's attention from her notes. Looking all too pleased with Lia's attitude towards the rules, Brieli offers the other girl a wicked little flash of a grin, though wryly; "I think I'd like the freedom just to get a solid, quiet night's sleep." To begin with? "Hm?" Fine brows arched questioningly, she looks over at Daehyeth's rider, curious - it's not as if she's balked as questions so far. "Don't take anything I say too seriously," advises the greenrider, with an air of self-deprecation that somehow belies her actual words. "Don't work too hard. Come join our snowball fight later, ok? Those notes can totally wait. And bring Azaylia if you think she can manage Hraedhyth." Lia pushes away from the table, just moments after the rest of her 'usual' crowd has gotten up. Maybe it was all timed, or their dragons are all talking to each other and in sync. "See you later, junior goldling." With a laugh, "Val might say different. About the notes. But I'll be there, promise." Brieli has a smile for Lia that might convince her that she's not taking it all so seriously, but then - she is kind of serious a lot of the time, even when she's trying not to be. Not seeming to notice the timing, "See you - I'll be along after I finish up." And after a little wave, she'll take up her fork again. |
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