Logs:Fleeced
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| RL Date: 8 March, 2010 |
| Who: Gustav, Ivana, Silarra, Tiriana, Warucori, Xeoshen |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Xeoshen, Ivana, and Silarra get fleeced. Gustav... does not. |
| Where: Central Storerooms, HRW |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: R'uen/Mentions, Milani/Mentions, Z'yi/Mentions, Teris/Mentions, W'chek/Mentions |
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| It's still cold in the Reaches, made moreso by the day's biting wind; so it's no wonder the majority of people are hiding out inside. Stores are accordingly busy, as everybody seems to be finally getting around to spring cleaning projects: bringing in everything they don't want anymore, and, sometimes, leaving with more than they came with. Tiriana's one of those, a big laundry basket in hand that she dumps at the feet of a harried worker who's trying to check things in. "Here." Gustav probably doesn't have much in the way of personal belongings, it's not like he's been around long enough to accumulate any. So it makes sense that he's down here cleaning up and putting things away. Carrying a box of socks (that smell like they need to be washed) through the cavern, he spots Tiriana there. Oh, what good luck! Right? He'll do better this time than when he stumbled into W'chek too. He hands that nasty box off to some baffled looking girl before sweeping along and picking the Weyrwoman's things up. "Don't worry, ma'am, woman. I've got it." There's no disguising Tiriana's groan of dismay when it's Gustav who finds her. "I'm fine," she says, trying and failing to scoot it away with one foot before Gustav can snatch it up. "Go handle your own crap. I can take care of myself, thank you very much." And she'll reach to steal the heavy, clothes-filled basket back from him. But he's at work and work he will. "Ma'am. I'm a gentleman on the job. And as such, I /must/ /have/ this basket." Gustav is quick and just a little taller and (and hopefully a lot) stronger than her. So if he hoistes the heavy thing over his head maybe he'll have some sort of chance at keeping it out of her grasps. "This crap is actually my crap now. I must seperate, categorize, wash, fold and put away every single garment here. Tiriana's mouth sets into a grumpy line as Gustav steals her basket and hoists it high, but at least she doesn't start jumping and grabbing at it like a little kid. That would just be undignified. So instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. "It's the Weyr's crap--and it's not crap, either," she snaps off, sniffing. "It's /my/ stuff, and R'uen's, that I'm getting rid of. And it's all clean, too." Gustav's expression suggests that this was too easy. "You started tossing around the crap word first, if you remember." He lowers the basket down and holds it at chest level. "I was just going along with it. When in wherever, follow the customs." For the part about being clean he reaches his hand in and flips a shirt over, sniffs the air. "I think you're telling the truth. It is clean." He looks back up at her, mouth picking up the beginning signs of a grin. "What are the chances of getting something pink from you?" "Yes, but that was /your/ crap," Tiriana points out. This is a very salient point. The fact that he's now sniffing her clothes earns another distasteful look, before she sighs. "Why would I lie about that? It came straight out of our closets, of course. --Negligible, at best. There's /nobody/ else in your group to come bother me?" "What crap?" Gustav asks with a perfectly innocent expression, looking around with wide brown eyes. The worker with his original box is gone. Disappeared. When he turns back to her it's with a particularly brilliant smile and he cants his head to the side just so. That part about lying conviently uncommented on. "No, I suppose not. They're either off making out with Milani or twisting Z'yi's arm to pieces. I'm the only one available to court you for the valuable, coveted piece of pink." Glower. "She must be loving this," she remarks, only a little snide. "Get to make out with half the Weyr, all for a good cause. And of course you're the only one." Snort. "Are you going to start checking my cr--/things/ in or just stand there hoping?" "Is it in here?" Gustav asks with curious, upraised eyebrows. He starts to shift around through the folded clothes like he might /really/ think the fleece is in there. "Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that ma'am. I just know one of the others is going to go do the deed." Slowlyly, while he flips a pair of pants over he begins to move his feet towards the check in point. He seems to take for granted that Tiriana is going to stay in this conversation with him. Tiriana stays all right, albeit with some impatient foot tapping to go along with. "Yes, of course I hid hot pink fleece in my cast-off clothes, all in the hope that I would run into you today so you could dig through all my stuff and find it," she drawls, eyes rolling. "Or maybe I don't have anymore. Maybe I gave it all to that other team, and so you're just screwed now. That'd be funny, wouldn't it?" "Really? I'm amazed and pleasently surprised that you think about me in your freetime. I see that I'm finally making some sort of impression." Gustav lifts his eyebrows and shoots a crooked grin her way before dropping an undershirt of some sort. "Nah, I don't think you would do that. What fun would it be to torture and punish your little pet just to get to me? I don't think you'd find it funny if she was upset at all." The huffing breath Tiriana heaves out definitely means he's making an impression--just not the one he thinks he is. She shakes her head, eyes his handling of her clothes very closely. "My little pet? What are you talking about?" she asks, frowning. Eventually he gets around to doing that work and starts checking clothes in, item by item. He checks each one for any damage too. Every single one. Gus pauses only briefly to wave an index finger at her. "Oh come on. You know who I'm talking about. If you ruined the scavenger hunt for her because of me, well. That would be counter productive, wouldn't it?" Tiriana still looks confused by Gustav, and disinterested at best in his work; she leans on a nearby table while he does so. The clothes, at least, might as well be new: they hardly look used, and considering both Tiriana's and R'uen's clotheshorse tendencies, probably weren't much. "Teris?" she finally takes a guess. "You're in /her/ group? Faranth. Of course you are." A pause, while she thinks about this. "She'd be okay with it, I think. I'm sure she thinks this whole thing is kind of dumb, anyway, and if losing means she doesn't have to interact with you so much, that'd be fine. --And if you lose, you don't get a day off chores and that's just funny." Look! She's snickering even no. No sympathy for poor Teris. Ivana heads through the massive doors leading from the Weyr entrance. Ivana has arrived. "Oh, alright then. I'll leave it up to you to explain it to her. She's your pet after all. I'm sure she'll appreciate it, considering how stressed she's been looking lately. It won't be on my head if she cries or something." Gustav states airly as he picks up one shirt and eyeballs it consideringly. It gets folded expertly and placed in a pile on the table. And then, it's almost like the whole deal is done to him. He instigates no further requests for the pink fleece. "Worse than my sisters." He comments in something close to disbelief as he pulls out even /more/ clothes from the basket. Xeoshen heads in from the kitchens. Xeoshen has arrived. Tiriana, together with Gustav at a table topped by a really big overloaded laundry basket, is watching him go through a stack of clothes that must be hers. "Well, there /are/ two of us," she defends the amount of clothing. "And this is just winter stuff that there's no point in storing all summer just for it to be out of style next winter and me throw it away then." As though this is a valid excuse. As for Teris-- "Teris doesn't cry," she says, brows knitting at the very idea. "And she's not my pet." "Yeah, yeah. I get the idea." Gustav still doesn't seem impressed with all these clothes though. "I've been hearing all about clothing styles and new fashions from the weavers since I was old enough understand." He shakes his head regardless and continues piecing through the garments. "I brought up your pet but I didn't mention any names. You're the one who keeps saying Teris. Ergo, Teris /is/ your pet. You even think of her as such without me having to bring her up directly myself." As for the not crying, "We'll see about that." Tiriana counters at once, no beating around the bush, "What are you doing to her?" "Any baskets wit'drawstring pants'n there?" Ivana asks suddenly from the door. She takes a few steps closer, and the reason for her question is clear: there's a decided rip down the right side of one pants leg. "On th'cot leg! Honestly. Saliqa's got it easy sleepin' below.." Most of her attention is on her pants, and not necessarily on who's in the room right away... but eventually it occurs to her that the female voice in the room is really the weyrwoman. "Weyrwoman Tiriana," she says, and bounces a quick curtsey.. in ripped pants. "Sorry, this a bad time?" Gustav almost, almost, almost looks insulted for the briefest of seconds. Instead he counters with his own, "That's kind of funny, considering who that's coming from." And excellent, a distraction for what was probably going to turn into a more than tense moment if the two of them were left alone for a few minutes more. "I doubt there's any in this one but..." He looks thoughtful as he stops working through Tiriana's basket to briefly rifle through one of the nearby ones. "I think you might have some luck in this one." Shuffle shuffle, is the noise that preceeds Xeoshen's entrance into storeroom. It's not him however, but the broom he's got with him, thoiugh as he steps into the room, he does carry it more properly. As is usual, he has one of the guards with him, as he moves into the room. He looks up taking note of the group, especially when he hears Ivana's question, and Gustavs answer. He nods to the other candidates. "Hello." He greets, and blinks at Tiriana a a moment, and then nods to her as well. "Weyrwoman." He says. "Thanks," Ivana says, sounding relieved, as she walks over to look through the basket Gustav pointed out. "Ah'll just have t'borrow 'em f'r a little 'til ah can get these sewn up." She starts pulling things out of the basket one at a time while glancing sidewise once or twice at Gustav and Tiriana. A pair of pants much too big for her gets folded abruptly, then another without a drawstring catches her attention. "Did they line this wi'red? Ah, no, pink. Must've been someone's fav'rite.." and she puts that pair firmly aside after folding them. Xeo's entrance turns her head and she gives him a quick half-smile before diving back in, shaking her head. "Pink.." The arrival of ripped-pants and convict makes Tiriana eye the pair, then Gustav again, the latter not nearly so happily. "Considering who--what the hell is that supposed to mean? I haven't done anything to her." She crosses her arms again, glowers at him. "Is there a good time?" The latter, of course, is for Ivana." "She's a baby. You baby her. Coddle her. Encourage her behavior. Actually, you know. By all means, don't help us out. She'd be better off." Gustav somehow in the middle of all of this has managed to make it down to the bottom of the basket of laundry. And if this was someone else irritation or annoyance would probably be a readily detectable emotion by now. Instead the closest he gets to expressed anything when dealing with the Weyrwoman is a mostly blank expression. A pair of pants is folded and pushed towards the rest of the things that have been 'checked' in. For Ivana's question he sports a bleak looking smile, "Unlikely!" Before handing the basket towards Tiriana with the full intent of letting it go whether she takes it or not. "Ma'am. Got chores to do. Excuse me." Silarra heads in from the kitchens. Silarra has arrived. Ivana is surprised out of her mutterings by Tiriana's question into saying, "There's never a good time t'have a new seam opened on y'r pants when y'r not payin' f'r it." She flushes just a bit, and to cover, reaches down to grab another piece of clothing from the basket. They happen to be drawstring - and lined in blue! A short flash of utter joy crosses her face just as Gustav gets up to leave, and his reply changes joy to worry to a careful expression. "Thanks f'r y'r help.. Gustav." She says his name a little shyly. Sandy brown hair is kept in a tight braid that falls to about midway down Silarra's back. Her skin is lightly tanned, with a smattering of darker freckles standing out against her cheeks. Thick, bushy eyebrows almost overshadow her smokey blue eyes on a rather narrow face. Silarra looks to be in her mid teens, with a thin build. She is a few inches over five foot tall. Silarra is dressed in simple clothes of nice, sturdy fabrics. She wears a shirt of pale blue under a darker blue vest. Loose, dark brown pants fall far enough to nearly cover boots of almost the same color. Xeoshen raises an eyebrow. "Is taday laundry work day, or somethin'?" He asks the others, before he's directed by a room worker of where to sweep, which explains the broom. He starts to sweep the floor, pushing the dirt toward the entrance tunnel as he listens. He does blink at the conversation though. "Eh? What was all that about?" He asks Tiriana , and Ivana, since Gustav was leaving. "I'm giving away this old stuff," Tiriana explains, plucking at the sleeve of one new-looking, quite stylish shirt. "Gustav is just checking it in for me." She's not paying any attention to that process, letting the other candidate work on his own, displeased with her or not. But when he does say he's leaving, she will eye him again then. "Gustav," she begins, while reaching into one pocket to pull out a hunk of decidedly pink fleece. Silarra strides into the storerooms muttering the names of a couple of cooking herbs under her breath. She pushes a stray lock of hair back behind her ears, showing off the wet sleeves of her shirt. There's another wet patch on her stomach as well. Silarra pauses inside the door to glance around, not looking quite sure where she's going in there. Xeoshen blinks at Tiriana. "Givin' away...clothes?" He asks her, looking confused for a moment. "Ya got anyhin' fer a guy in there?" He asks, though it was a long shot, considering it was the Weyr/woman/ giving away the clothes, but, you never know. He keeps sweeping though, flicking a small pile of dirt out into the tunnel where it properly belongs. He slips closer to where Tiriana, and Ivana are though, to peer at the basket for a moment. There you go, genuine reaction. Gustav stares down at the pink fleece in her fingers with a look that's very near to shock. If he doesn't pass out on the spot everyone here is probably pretty lucky. He adjusts his gaze from the goldrider's hand to her face, looking incredulous. He doesn't make a move to take it, initially. Silarra's entrance causes as a distraction and glances her way and maybe something registers there. He watches the younger candidate for a minute and finally, "Alright. Thank you." Ivana folds her borrowed drawstring pants over her arm and shrugs, meeting Xeoshen's eyes. Too much, she'd have to sum up. Very impressed with Gustav she is, though, yes. A dubious nod and a half smile go Silarra's way, as she's just as in the dark as her friend. But one fact is obvious: "It's a very interestin' color f'r a fleece, Weyrwoman." She has to smile a little at the look on Gus's face. "Did ya dye it y'rself?" "Well. There's some of R'uen's stuff, too," Tiriana says for Xeoshen, with a shrug. She studies the accumulated goods, all accounted for now. "If you want to take some of it, go ahead; though, I think you're taller than him. Shirts might work, though." Xeoshen, too, receives that studying glance, while her hands toy with that fleece and finally pull off a couple of smaller balls that are set on the table, along with one larger one that's returned to the pocket. "Myself? Of course not. I don't know who did; Milani just gave it to me like this. I sold it," smugly. "The rest of it, anyway. Kept some for a hat, and just found this the other day where they hadn't needed it all." The remainder of the fleece, about a hand-sized hunk, she tosses from hand to hand. "You want it?" she asks Gustav. Silarra strides over to Gustav with a smirk on her face. "I'm hoping you'll say yes. I can just imagine that a pair of gloves made for you in that color would be oh so fetching." Silarra jokes dryly before she eyes the clothes. "I bet I'd be stepping on any of that. Or it's hang way over my hands." She decides, turning back to eye the shelves. At the mention of gloves, Ivana says, "It'd have t'be spun up first.. but most likely it would make a nice pair, 'f ya like pink." Unnecessary, maybe, but you never know. Maybe it's the tossing from hand to hand thing. It's making him wary. Gustav seemed pretty eager to cut and run moments ago. The appearance of the only innocent member of his team is the only thing holding him here, probably. "Yes." Wavering on the side of good solid caution for once, he doesn't make any type of grab for it. He stands right where he is and when Silarra gets within reach, he leans forward and attempts to give her a little push. One that if successful will send her /right/ to Tiriana. "She wants it more though." Xeoshen eyes the piece of fleece for a moment. "Probably be well fer a ladies glove, or somethin'." He says, and eyes the basket a moment, propping his broom up on of the tables, and picks at the clothes in the basket for a moment. He nods in greeting to Silarra as well though, as she arrives. "Ya lookin' fer something?" He notes her, eyeing the she;ves/ All this waffling about just makes Tiriana smirk at Gustav, and despite having Silarra shoved at her, she pays little mind to that. "No, no, I'm sure she doesn't. That's why you're here, after all. C'mere, Gustav, and I'll give it to you," she says, leering at him. Silarra staggers a bit when she's shoved. She'll just turn back to give Gustav a smirk at Tiriana's words. "Here that? She only wants to give it you. You'd better just man up and take one for the team." Silarra informs Gustav dryly before Xeoshen gets a quick smile. "Herbs. I got a bit of a break from washing dishes to come pick up some for one of the cooks who was running low." "Oh, no, no. I'm sure she'd /much/ rather give it to you." Gustav tells the teenager, lifting his eyebrows and smiling tightly at her. "I'm also equally certain that she wants it more than Teris or I could ever hope to want. I congratulate you two on meeting and hope you'll enjoy this momentous occasion to exchange fleece. It's been fun playing, but. I need to go do some real work." And here, he completely abandons his team mate and makes a break for it. Disappearing into a side tunnel to presumbly do some other job. Warucori steps quietly into the storerooms with a curious gleam in her eyes. She lets the curtain sweep closed behind her, only to have to dance out of the way as Gustav makes his quick exit right past her. "oh." She stares after him. Xeoshen raises an eyebrow at Gustav. "Jeez, pink aint that terrible of a color. I'll take the thing if nobody else wants it." He says, and pulls a shirt out of the basket, holding it up to him a moment as he sees how it looks. He then looks to Silarra, and then the shelves, but slowly looks as perplexed as her. "Uh, I aint got a clue where the herbs are, maybe ask one of the workers?" He suggests. "Coward," says Tiriana, scoffingly after Gustav leaves. But she sticks the ball she's been harassing him with back in with the remainder of the fleece. The two smallest pieces, placed on the table earlier, are then picked up, and Tiriana slides one toward Xeoshen, with, "Find anything you like?" Because there are certainly some nice things in there: R'uen's taste in clothes is clearly as fashionable as Tiriana's own. "And I suppose you want one, too," is for Ivana, as she pulls off another small section for that girl. Then, to Silarra last of all, Tiriana holds out the last small piece. "I'll give this to you on /one/ condition." And she holds up one finger to make this absolutely clear. Silarra wrinkles her nose, making a face after Gustav's back. "Deserter." She mutters to her teammate before she turns back to Tiriana. That small piece of fleece is eyed for a moment before she looks up to the Weyrwoman. "And what condition is that?" Apparently, herbs are forgotten for the moment in the lure of the game. Ivana's expression is noncommittal until she hears what the weyrwoman has in store for them. Is this going to be a shrubbery sort of thing? Anything for the team, a small piece of pink isn't going to ruin Xeoshen's masculinity too much, he'll just keep it tucked in a pocket. Which is exactly what he does when Tiriana slides the pieces towards him. "Thank ya Weyrwoman." He says to her, and then raises an eyebrow art hwr condition for Silarra, was there more she wanted from them? "This is for you and Teris," says Tiriana, with a firm look for Silarra; Xeoshen and Ivana, given their pieces already, are ignored for this moment. "Not Gustav. Gustav asks, you tell him I gave you nothing. Not a thing. You tell Gustav that I refused to give you anything and if he wants his team to get this, he's going to have to come and get it from me himself. --And /you/ two," and here is where she rounds on the other two candidates. "You go spoiling this for me, and I'll have you kicked out." Xeoshen has gone back from picking through the basket, probably finding several pieces of clothing that he could use, anything better then his clothes now, even if he was likely to ksave them for non grudge type work. AKA: chores. He listens idly as Tiriana gives the deal to Silarra, but when she wheels on him, he straightens, having to bite down on a 'I didn't do it! Silarra reaches out to take the piece, if Tiriana will give it up, with a return of her smirk. "I like that idea. He should be tormented for running away like a, like a sissy." Silarra decides. "I bet I can put on quite the little annoyed act that he ran off and you just refused to give it to me. And now we're going to /lose./" The candidate seems quite amused by the idea of this. Xeoshen has gone back from picking through the basket, probably finding several pieces of clothing that he could use, anything better then his clothes now, even if he was likely to ksave them for non grudge type work. AKA: chores. He listens idly as Tiriana gives the deal to Silarra, but when she wheels on him, he straightens, having to bite down on a 'I didn't do it!' that wanted to escape him. "Oh, no, definately no spoilin' it, the guys too chicken ta take a piece of pink fer a team, that's his problem, not mine." He says, and chuckles at Silarra's response. "If ya were annoyed at him, real, or an act, I wouldna blame ya." Ivana looks utterly confused for a moment, then is reduced to an acknowledging nod. "It's all right, Weyrwoman, sailors're as good as their word." She pockets her piece of fleece with a careful thank-you. "An' thanks f'r th'loan of these," she indicates the pants from the basket. "Silarra, Xeo, see ya back in th'barracks? G'night all." She nods very politely to Tiriana before heading out to find her teammates. "Good," says Tiriana, quite pleased when her threats all work. The little piece of pink is then deposited in Silarra's hand, with a smirk on her part. "He might not come, in which case you and Teris can tell Milani he's off your team, for all I care, and you two can just win. If you do win. How are you doing, anyway?" And that question's for all two who remain, as she sends Ivana off with a vague wave. Silarra pockets the bit of fleece. "Thanks. I'll pester him into doing it. Or maybe give him the stink eye until he does." Silarra states, turning to look back towards the shelves. "And we /will/ win. I don't even care about the reward." Just the winning. "Though Gustav did get W'chek's lecture. Probably good. Considering the circumstances." She pauses for a second before she shrugs. "I'm going just fine. Kind of like being a candidate. Interesting getting to know some of the group." Xeoshen nods to Ivana. "Good night, see ya in the barracks." He says. "Can I have these Tiriana?" He asks her about the clothes he had pulled out, just incase they only supposed to take one piece of clothing or something. He then looks to Silarra, and smirks at her decleration of winning. "We'll see about that, the hunt aint over yet." He tells her. "I got this, one of mines workin' on the quilt patch, we'll get the others soon enough." "If anybody needs a lecture from that moron," agrees Tiriana re: W'chek. "Though doubtless it did no good at all. Well. Can't win 'em all; just send him my way, though." She'll win that one. As for the clothes? Tiriana blinks at Xeoshen a moment, then shrugs. "Yeah, sure, go ahead. Faranth knows you people--" criminals! "--need better anyway, if you're going to be hanging around here. And you can't do better than R'uen's old stuff. I'll send one of the inventory girls over to check you out. Good luck hunting." The latter to both, and rather nice, too, as she turns to head toward the door. Silarra nods over to Tiriana. "I'll do my best. Have a good rest of your day." Silarra tells the Weyrwoman. The clothes don't even get another glance as she turns back to the shelves, moving along them. "Thyme! There it is." And she'll pick up a little pouch of the dried herb. "And if that's your first? You're way behind." Silarra informs Xeoshen. Xeoshen nods to Tiriana. "Uh, give R'uen my thanks, fer the clothes." He says, and then gives Silarra a shur. "It aint hard ta come from behind, and still win." He replies cooly. He'll set the clothes down though, to finishing sweeping the floor, when the overseer gives him a look. |
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