Logs:Bad Influence
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| RL Date: 2 July, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, Brieli |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The two gold weyrlings unwind in the evening over drinks. This might become a habit. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 2, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Lujayn/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions |
| Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room. For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here. As night falls, so does a light snow, eager to cling to the clothes Azaylia uses to try and keep the winter chill from her bones. Her arrival is easily announced by the not-so little gold lounging in her couch, Hraedhyth's pale head lifting and turning towards the walking bundle of wooly layers. "I come bearing yummy things." Azaylia announces, quiet though friendly, somewhat muffled by the scarf that she's unable to move, both hands occupied. One mug will be placed near Brieli, a few flakes mingling and melting with the whipped topping, "I had a craving..." She admits, a guilty giggle leaving her as the wool is tugged away from her gently curled lips. Hraedhyth goes back to stretching out atop her couch, somewhat fresh of coating oil finally beginning to seep into her tawny hide. Iesaryth is likewise lounging, seeming to be asleep - but when Hraedhyth's head lifts to herald her rider's arrival, so too does the smaller gold's eyes open, just one lid to see what's up for Brieli's sake. The tall lean weyrling is already clearing up the detritus that has scattered its way across her cot - notes, charts, correspondence, sketches? - all is cleaned up in favor of a spot for Azaylia and the gifts she bears. With a wide smile, "Thank you. Apparently, I'm a bad influence. You're hitting the bars every night." Not that she's complaining - she'll claim that mug with both hands, thankyouverymuch. "That was too nice of you. Nicer to go to bed a bit warmed up when the snow it sticking like this." "They're so good though." Azaylia will defend her nightly visits, "We're allowed to drink more, after all." Words aren't practiced per se, but they are at the ready as if she's quite aware of her increased trips to the bar. "Besides, Hraedhyth likes it when I'm a bit warmed up." She borrows Brieli's words, nudging a bit of hide with her hip before sitting and peeling the most unnecessary layers off. They'll be balled and tossed onto her own bed, which has it's own littering of hides but is mostly in order. Some garments land, some fall short, but it's Azaylia so there's no worry that they'll remain there long. "It's nothing. I mean, I have two hands." Both of which are keeping her own mug steady on her thigh. "Lots of good drinks, and honestly, I don't think there's that much in them," Brieli notes, peering down into the mug suspiciously after a sip. "Wouldn't put it past our keepers to have a deal with the bartenders to lighten the drinks until they think we can manage. Even if that's shorting us." If that sounds faintly paranoid - that's common. Stacking up all the hides and stuff in once pile so Azaylia can sit easily and she can tuck long legs under her, she adds, "For keeping Hraedhyth happy, it's a small price to pay. And I still appreciate it." Glancing over to the other weyrling, "How are you? Feeling ready to start learning all about the storerooms?" Her tone is not entirely enthusiastic. Hraedhyth certainly is happy, and as the weyrling takes her first sip there's satisfied rumbles from the dragonet. Her tail has taken to sweeping the floor faintly, just the first foot or so. "Then you're welcome." Since Brieli is going to push the issue, smiling from behind her half-melted whipped cream. "That's not too much of a bad thing, just having a little bit." Azaylia considers with a faint tilt of her head. "I'm about 4 or 5 turns behind everyone else. I need to practice, if we're going to be weyrwomen sipping wine." Pink tongue makes a short appearance, face scrunching to show what she thinks about that particular beverage. As for the storerooms, her face uncrinkles and brightens slightly. There's not excitement, but that typical optimism, "A bit, actually. I mean, it's not working in the stables," Which would be ideal. "But it's still work. And, well, the boxes are sometimes heavy, so I can help there." Yay for lifting things! Iesaryth, gone back to dozing, rumbles quietly for Hraedhyth's pleased sound. If the brawny gold is happy, sleep will not be disturbed. Life is good, and the ocean's constant rhythm echoes quietly in behind draconic thoughts. Brieli, after another sip of the rich hot chocolate, has to admit, "You might have a point. And who says we have to drink wine, if you don't like it? Tell them you don't drink. Or you can't bear wine, it gives you headaches. Or a vintner broke your sister's heart. Whatever works for the person." Not overly concerned with the whole lying aspect of the issue, she shrugs - then brightening a touch for Azaylia's silver lining in even inventory. Amused, "Well, what is the stables? But yes. I suppose you have a point. We'll have a little more of something useful to do, and won't lack for much to fill our time after graduation. Meetings, now even." There's something odd in her tone; difficult to define. The younger gold is welcome to her sleep, though Hraedhyth still feels that there should be someone on guard. She's happy to take the shift, eyes half-lidded and content to survey her sister and their weyrlings. Azaylia blinks at Brieli, not hiding the surprise at how easily her friend can come up with excuses. "I just mean, isn't it rude? We're going to be... well, not important but..." She's not quite sure what, and decides to sum it up after a pensive sip. "I wouldn't want to be rude. Or lie." But she doesn't judge Brieli, smile unhindered though still gentle. "Taking care of the runners, grooming them, taking care of the babies that will start popping up in spring." Though she laughs, momentarily startled, "I guess taking care of Hraedhyth counts. I'm happy for that." Never a complaint for the dragon's maintenance from her. "Yes, meetings. I don't know how I feel about those. What about you?" The tone may not slip by unnoticed, though Azaylia isn't bringing too much attention to it. There might be the sense that Hraedhyth ALWAYS thinks someone needs to be on guard, but that is a fond sense nonetheless, this is the way the other gold is. To the blinking, Brieli looks innocent, wide-eyed. What? "Rude how? Is it rude to have a serious issue with wine? Medical issue, maybe? And 'important' people get away with more. You can definitely get away with passing on wine. If that's the greatest of your sins, Azaylia, you'll be the nicest weyrwoman that ever lived. Likely." She toasts to that with her mug, and takes a longer drink now that it's cooler. "Maybe you'll have some time to lend a hand next spring. We should have some time to ourselves." As for her last; "Oh - just strange to think how much influence we have now - or are close to having? It's come so quickly." There's a half choke, half laugh for Brieli's words, though she does her best to keep quiet for Iesaryth's sake, "Lujayn seems nice." Azaylia already argues the possibility of being the nicest weyrwoman. "What I've seen of her. And Io." But there's the faintest wince there given recent events. Her recovery is fairly quick, given her mug is more than half-empty now, "You should come along. I'm sure the llamas miss you." Already she's standing, drifting ever so closer to the clothing that didn't quite make it to her bed, "Not too much influence." Whether that's her belief or a hope isn't explained. "But, I should try to study a bit more." Just incase it is too much influence, though she'll happily lob a soft-spoken comment Brieli's way between hides. |
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