Logs:Gratitude
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| RL Date: 9 January, 2015 |
| Who: V'ros, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: During the lunch rush, V'ros and Telavi talk tithes, Nabol, and flights. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 10, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Cold. |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Z'riah/Mentions |
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>---< Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#350RJs) >----------------------------<
Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier
or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them
instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large
enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the
cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters
down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open
space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet,
and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's
offerings.
Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven --
only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they
add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the
centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling
and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end
of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an
array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows
are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Telavi F 24 5'7" trim, dk. blonde hair, blue-green eyes 1s
V'ros M 21 5'8 Slim, Brown hair, Brown eyes 0s
----------------------------------< Exits >--------------------------------- Lunch rush being what it is - at noon and rush-y - there isn't much seating left when V'ros shuffles into the living cavern and secures himself a plate piled high with juicy porcine and buttery tubers. He wanders in and out of the tables, looking for familiar faces, and looks disappointed to find only a handful of Snowdrift, interspersed with other wings, filling seats. Guess he'll have to actually socialize instead of sit, silently, and stuff his face full of food. And that's how he happens to amble near a certain blonde greenrider's seat, holding his plate in his left hand and a cup full of juice in his right, with a big, obvious, confused expression on his atypically dejected face. Not even such classic dejection leads to rejection today; rather, Telavi gets out of her seat just enough to tug at his sleeve, conveniently that left-hand sleeve, already-- still-- talking: something about tithes and, "Tell them." She nods from V'ros to the couple of women in her alcove. "Tithe or no tithe, that is the question." The confusion is replaced with surprise, and quickly shifted into sheepishness when he re-directs himself towards the table Telavi is seated at. "Uh," V'ros glances around, giving curt nods to the other women, "Tithe? What.. tithe?" He, at least, seems not to know of the latest gossip, but blissfully unawares, seats himself in the available chair and plops his plate of food down on the table. "You know. Food. Blankets and clothing and things," Telavi says helpfully, with an equally-helpful pat for his back. To the women-- one of whom is giggling-- "No, really, he knew this after he graduated, it isn't /our/ fault. V'ros: Nita says it's just Nabol tithe that's going to be slack, while Miere thinks we're going to have at least one other Hold shorting. What's your bet?" Forks are good distractions, and food too! Scoop food onto fork, put in mouth; that simple. "Uh," V'ros colors spectacularly and ducks his head, mumbling around the food in his mouth. He keeps his gaze carefully averted. "I.. um.." His eyes flick back to Telavi, his mouth pulling tight at the corners. "Don't know? I don't.. Nabol would be lazy if they let.. another one get away with a lesser tithe." An uncertain shrug punctuates his words. "We'll be hungry come high winter." They're still looking at him, all three of them are-- and then there's more laughter from Nita as she scrapes a Snowasis-token from her pocket for each woman. "I'll take your plates, too," she says generously, only Tela's protecting hers and Miere says, "I'll carry the glasses. Least I can do. Thanks... V'ross." Tela blows a kiss after them-- "Always a pleasure!"-- before finally turning back to see how V'ros has survived it all. The brownrider just looks confused - more confused, even. "Uh," is all he has for their leaving, his brown eyes following the two women, before coming to rest on Telavi. "What just.." V'ros frowns and shakes his head, pointedly looking down at his plate. Girls are bewildering. At that last, Telavi comes to rest too, no longer with the lean that suggests an instinctive inclination to follow them-- not visibly. "One. Did you hear about Nabol? And two: has it gotten any better, this whole bewilderment thing?" Is there hope? V'ros' fork scrapes across the bottom of his plate, but he does look back in time to answer Telavi's questions. "Nabol? Yeah, everyone's still.. extra sweeps.. but if we haven't found them yet, I don't think we will," he confides with a furrowed brow, his mood plunging with the admission. "Haven't heard anything else." He stabs a tuber and spins it around, as yet not putting anything in his mouth. "Bewilderment? Ab..out.. what?" Specifics, Telavi, specifics. Otherwise, everything! "One: we did find them, or rather they did, the holders I mean and some of our riders helped and dragged them away, I guess? So maybe that's settled? Which is exciting? And two," Telavi continues, complete with held-up fingers, "Bewildered about what you said was bewildering." As generous as her friends, "You can take one at a time if you like, just don't hold it against Miere about your name." "They did? When? How?" V'ros looks excited now, sitting up in his seat with his fork still poised above his plate, and his eyes alight with curiosity. "Where'd the tithe go? Did they.. find it?" Those bits are tantamount, and forget the rest. He settles down some, jerking his shoulders in another half-hearted shrug. "My name gets messed up a lot. Not a.. problem." But the rest, well, he's just going to look down at his food again, and shove that over-large tuber in his mouth; problem solved. "I don't know," Tela says a little testily, never mind that she's the one who'd just given him that other info; "Ask Alida, I heard she was there. There were some holders trotting along? Or maybe playing at spies?" Savannah can't be doing anything too secretive or helpful, if its members talk like this, can it? "Anyway, they found it, and someone knew how to get ahold of a rider, so maybe had a firelizard or something? And anyway, caught some and I don't know about the tithe, yet, but if they caught some people they'll be able to tell them where the tithe is, won't they? Unless someone's keeping some on the side, I suppose, but that would be a cynical thing to think," so of course Telavi would never think that. Maybe she's really letting all the rest go; certainly she survives any temptation to joke about V'ros and his so-large tuber. With his mouth full of - you guessed it - mashed tuber, all V'ros can do is listen and nod from time to time; he isn't put off by her testiness. When he swallows and slurps his juice to wash it down, he takes a breath and has more questions: "A rider helped? Wow." He is astonished, his palms resting on the table as he soaks up all this news. "I don't think.. they'd tell anyone where it was. Their friends could always.. uh, profit, from their loss. Families. They might need it.. if.. they kill them." That sure is a thought, right there, one which prompts him to pick at his food. "Riders," Tela says just in case, after a swig of her own drink; "Catch, lug, something," whatever! says the flutter of her hand. And then, "You don't think Lady Tevrane's people would be... persuasive, V'ros?" she wonders. "Do you think that their friends and families should profit?" "Riders." Even more wow, much cool. It's, still, a darkened look that V'ros gives Telavi. "Do I think.. uh, no. No, they shouldn't.. it's stolen goods.. and Keogh and Nabol suffer, we might suffer, but.." He pauses, squinting while he thinks, then starts up again while he pokes at another juicy tuber. "I don't know. Their family gets the short stick, but.. that's Keogh's tithe, and.. no one but Nabol should get it." Listening, Telavi's lips have a prim purse, but she doesn't give back to him what he'd said before; rather, in a different tone, "I wonder if we'll be thanked... for what help we did give. What do you think, will they take it as their due?" "Aren't we.. isn't this.." V'ros skewers a piece of porcine, next, and casts a look over at Telavi. "..this is a thankless job? I didn't think they.. did.. thank us, for those kinds of things. We do.. sweeps, all the time, rescues, searches.." He shrugs, indifferent; even such a short time as a rider as crafted him into being jaded to the world's ways. "We should get thanked for those, even if we aren't," Telavi says firmly enough to be the way the world works. "I'm glad you don't get butthurt when they don't, though. One of my old wingmates, one of the old old wingmates, she used to-- that reminds me!" "Maybe," is what V'ros murmurs, still unconvinced. "Should we be.. uh, thanking the holders for working hard for our.. tithe?" He tries to look at her, he really does, but his own awkwardness prevents him from full-on meeting her eyes; he starts pushing things around on his plate instead. "Reminds you of..?" "Maybe," Telavi permits, elongating the vowel. She glances at her once-student while neatly slanting the tableware across her plate, and since he did ask and all, "Congratulations with Yizibeth. So exciting!" He survived! Whatever Telavi's intention - oh, maybe she was trying to get him to choke, because that's what he does, covering his mouth and turning away to cough away the food lodged in his throat. When he turns back, after a few tense minutes, his eyes are a little watery, and his voice notably raspy. "Uh.. yeah. That.. happened. Thanks?" V'ros, clearly, doesn't want to talk about it; not with her. Minutes. Any longer-- or any more significant signs of actual dying-- and he'd have gotten a clap on the back, because that's what one does; it's only sitting across the table that's saved him thus far. Possibly Telavi's even impressed by his stamina! She lets him off lightly in any case, with a, "You're welcome," and a not-quite-dimple. And with that... "I think I'm about finished. Unless you have anything else?" A next trick? "It was nice to see you, V'ros, really it was." The fork lifts, falls. "Uh, no. It was.. nice.. seeing you too, Telavi." V'ros keeps pushing around his food a bit, but offers up as a consolation: "Whenever Nabol's.. clear, there's this bar, and the owner's nice. We could go for a drink?" In the friend way, not the date way; he's not about to fight K'zin over trivialities, or anyone, for that matter. "When K'del says we can. Again." If there's any inkling in Tela's blonde head that V'ros could have meant anything non-friend whatsoever, it doesn't show in the quick smile that chases away multi-aspected surprise-- "I'd like that," she says immediately. "Let's hope it's still around!" She lingers a moment; she might say more, but then she's off... with her 'how will he react' winnings in tow. |
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