Logs:Non-Encounters
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| RL Date: 13 February, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Madilla, V'teri |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Alida and Madilla don't talk. Madilla and V'teri do... but not for long. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern. It's mid-evening, and today's snowfall still hasn't stopped; it's no wonder, then, that the Snowasis is full nearly to bursting, with a number of people forced to share tables with others they might not normally. Amidst the throngs, Madilla is a beacon of calm, carrying her mug through the room utterly unmolested, despite people moving in this direction and that around her. She reaches one of the booths right as the previous occupants depart, and immediately begins to slide into the now-empty booth. Pay no attention to the quiet, affect-less pale-blonde woman sitting in the corner, at her own table for two...sans the almost obligatory 'one.' Alida is settled in a wooden chair, their pair of backs lightly propped against the nearest wall, though the more human of the two is much more animated... currently engaged in sipping from a tumbler of deep amber-brown fluid with some hanks of ice in it. At least the 'Reaches produces enough of that stuff. With a whole booth to herself, Madilla sets her mug down in front of her, and picks up the satchel that was slung over her shoulder, pulling out a small piece of needlework, and associated accoutrements. Despite the fact that she's obviously intent on getting on with her work, her gaze slides around the room, wandering aimlessly from one table to the next. Unlike Madilla, Alida'd gaze keeps pretty much to her own table, except on occasion when it lifts and roves over the room like clockwork...no real deep interest found within her clear, deep green eyes. Just keeping tabs on things. It was when Madilla first entered and circulated to find her own booth that the silent femme in the back eyeballed her, assessing intent and other things in one gestalten sweep of that critical gaze. But now... well, there's only her quiet self and that drink to take up 'lida's perceptions, her booze swirled around in the tumbler, peered at with some small, unfocused intent. It's a busy, snowy evening in the Snowasis, and there aren't many free seats available. Madilla is presently, however, quite alone in her booth-- and Alida's at a table for two and quite on her own, too. The healer was scanning the room idly before getting on with her sewing, but now, having failed to catch anyone's attention for any reason during her sweep, she lowers her head back to her work, shoulders bowed. She hasn't been to the Snowasis before, but Alida certain looks pretty comfortable in the bustling club/bar, still back-propped at a wall in her chair, sipping her whiskey on the rocks, and giving only the occasional peer at the loud throng circulating all about her. In this ocean of motion, this sea of active and loud humanity, the holder is a bit of odd flotsam, her dogged silence and lack of a smile at odds with all about her. There's a regular card game at one of the center tables; the camaraderie of weyrfolk winning and losing marks providing a high counterpoint against the din of conversation that permeates the Snowasis. Several serving girls hang about, leaned against this shoulder or hip-checked against that part of the round table. Small talk, mocking, and laughter all co-mingle until one man laughs in such a jovial fashion. His eyes crinkle as he throws in his cards and all his marks. "That's it for me, J'vais. You might have won all my marks, but I'll be sure to get all the girls before the night's through." This blustering statement's met with guffaws and some choice phrases in regards to V'teri's prowess being cut down turns ago by Tiriana. The bronzerider pushes away from the table and stalks off, but the flicker of bemusement in his slate eyes betrays it as all an act. Madilla is evidently quite proficient at sewing and listening, because something deliberately - and abruptly - changes in her expression as V'teri's companions begin their jibes. She's not smiling, not exactly, but there's definitely a hint of amusement around the corners of her mouth as she lifts her gaze from her work again. In seeking out V'teri, her gaze passes by Alida again, resting there only for a moment - though if Alida sees it, she'll acknowledge her briefly - before it moves on towards V'teri. He gets a twitch of a smile, whether or not he's glancing close enough in her direction to see. Only the most vague of eyerolls addresses that lattermost part of what Alida overhears coming from the unknown V'teri's mouth, the woman in the corner having heard a lot of such talk in her rather short-ish span of life. A faint twitch of lips never really makes it into a smirk, but her greens do latch to his standing form for a few moments - when possible in this crowd - the guard giving him the same assessing peer as she formerly did Madilla. Still, this is very new ground, and as such, 'lida won't do much to instigate any contact...especially as she's never been in a Weyr before. Another lift of rapidly-emptying tumbler to her lips presages a cursory flick of eyes all about again, and in that off moment, she happens to catch the healer's small nod...offering her a stiff, small bob of platinum head back before returning to drinking. In stalking away, V'teri quickly finds an aimless huffy exit makes no dramatic scene at all and finds himself standing just shy of Madilla's table with a hand running through those boyish waves of his. There's ready laughter on the verge of that all-too-ready grin, his head canting this way and that, pausing on the platinum-blonde Alida for a split-second moment of interest, before settling on Madilla as not only a familiar face to stalk towards, but a likely victim for his charms. He catches the tail end of that corner-hinted smile and proferrs the healer with a wink. "Sewing. In a bar. Have your children driven you to this?" "If they had, I think I would be drinking something far stronger than klah," returns Madilla, her low, sweet voice carrying enough that Alida is likely enough able to hear her. "But I do quite like coming in here to people-watch. And see cheeky bronzeriders-- well. Are you going to win out or not? Because right now, bravado or no, it's looking like not." Her smile is full of cheerful dimples; bright and teasing. V'teri laughs. Away from the card game it loses that machismo edge and gains a boyish quality. "Oh. Tiriana walloped the man out of me turns ago. I'm all bluster, no action. Right?" The charming slant of his grin paired with the easy way he slides into the booth across from Madilla would suggest otherwise however. "How are they? Your kids?" Cause small talk always either devolves into that or springs further from it. "And, can I get you anything stronger? I promise," those hands lift, and innocence floods his gray eyes, "No funny business." She's seen it all - at least she believes so - and so when Alida returns her downward directed gaze out again to sweep the area, and the booth now shared by V'teri and Madilla, the woman lets out a soft snort and bare shake of plaited head at the bronzer's interactions with the healer. Likely unheard by anyone else in here, given the boisterous atmosphere, is the holder's mumbled, "Runner shit..." offered up only to herself, though her greens do fire to life for just a moment in dark humor. Madilla's not a smirker, but she does laugh, a low, amused sound that would carry further if the Snowasis weren't so busy. "You're still standing, aren't you?" she points out, with a twisted smile for the reminder of Tiriana. "They're well. Happy. You don't really want to know about them. And no - klah is fine for me. I'm not much of a drinker. We Weyrhealers need to keep up a certain image." She's looking at V'teri, now, no longer paying attention to the room; still, it's easy enough for Alida to follow along, no doubt. The card game concludes as Ylsira of Equinox wins the pot with a daring all-in move. V'teri, proving some men are sometimes capable of multi-tasking and focusing on more than one thing at once, hides a smile with a duck of his chin and mutters, "Oh, /well done/." It could almost seem like the whole stunt was scripted. But there's Madilla before him, and conversation to be had. "And bronzeriders have a certain image to maintain, I'm told." A beat passes, a short one that somehow is suddenly weighted heavy for the shift in V'teri's expression. "Particularly now. Damned unlucky times. I almost envy Iolene, leaving us with this mess to muck through." As the two are already engaged with each other, Alida is less concerned about attracting unwanted attention...and so does indeed engage in a bit of listening in on Madilla and V'teri, though on the sly. The little bits of information she's been gathering in her spare 4 days here has gone a good way into informing the blonde that there's enough political pots a-stir at the Weyr, and what she catches at the tail end of the bronzerider's reply to his boothmate simply continues to confirm her opinion. A look down into a glass she suddenly realizes is empty presages a dour, "Better'n home, that's for damned sure." A low sigh and soft grunt soon lead into the femme's easy rise from her seat, and a resettling of the thing back under the table, her muffled bootsteps hardly noticed as 'lida pads her way out of the bar, ducking and darting through the trong so that nobody touches her. On the way past rider and crafter, a very short bob of head is again offered. Abruptly, Madilla's expression tightens, and then falls. "That's an awful thing to say," she says, not quite chiding, but certainly not a note of faint disappointment, the kind mothers are so universally good at employing. "I'm sorry-- you'll have to excuse me." She hasn't even touched her klah, but now, Madilla puts away her sewing, and begins sliding out of the booth, and back towards her feet. "Have a good evening, V'teri. Don't let your wingmates fleece you too badly." In doing so, she catches sight of Alida again, offering a faint nod of her own, though her thoughts are very clearly elsewhere. That ducked chin ducks even further at Madilla's chide, as even a 30-something turn old bronzerider can feel that disappointment only mothers have keenly, particularly a man who doesn't have a mother; but that's a story for another time. "Zero for two tonight, Van. Zero for two. R'hin would be proud." The man shakes his head and sits, waiting, until moments after Madilla departs, Ylsira slips into that vacated seat with a toothy, pleased grin. |
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