Logs:Helping Helper who Helps
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| RL Date: 9 February, 2013 |
| Who: Taikrin, Vienne |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Vienne is recovering from a cold. Taikrin offers her her services. ALL of her services, in no particular order. |
| Where: The Snowasis, HRW |
| When: Day 11, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
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| 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. Everyone has had a cold; they suck, but they don't last long. While Vienne spent a few days feeling decidedly under the weather, -- not that it's of any great consequence to anyone -- now she's venturing out again admist a rather leisurely evening in the Snowasis. She sits at a table with a cup of tea in front of her, a hanky balled in one hand and a book she's not really reading, as a wingmate has stopped by to check up on her. After a few topical pleasanties, he's on his way again and the bluerider is left alone, not eager to return to her reading. But really, after a few days with nothing but books to amuse her, just glancing around the bar provides better entertainment. Taikrin has been woefully unentertaining today. For the better part of the last hour, she's been sequestered in the corner both with the curtain half-drawn. But now she's shaking hands with the older male greenrider wearing Glacier knots. She seems pleased enough with the outcome, as she first leans against the bar to refill her mug. But when she turns around and leans her elbows against the countertop to look out across the crowd, her lips are pressed together in a way that seems thoughtful. Maybe even uncertain? In her cursory glance, Vienne surely saw Taikrin and the older man, though her attention didn't linger there for any particular amount of time before moving on, skimming over toward some couple who seem to be bickering, on to a few men idly chatting over a few beers. Eventually, though, when the infamous brownrider has landed at the bar and turned her own eyes across the crowd, there's one of those happenstance moments where Vienne meets her gaze. She sends Taikrin a quick, light smile; perhaps it's supposed to be encouraging, given that thoughtful air about the Glacier rider. Someone should have warned Vienne about how dangerous it is to smile at Taikrin. She smiles back, reflexively, one eyebrow half-cocked. And then she's taking her beer and striding authoritatively over to join the bluerider's table. There she pauses, hands resting against an unoccupied chair opposite, and offers warmly, "Good evening." Vienne might not have listened, even if someone had told her. And really, it's entirely possible someone has intimated such warnings, given the talk that gets around where Taikrin is concerned. But the small bluerider does smile and though she might have been content to leave it at that, when Taikrin starts heading her way, there's the lift of Vienne's expression, a little expectant, a little curious. "Evening," she returns, glance dropping to the hand on that chair. "It's free," she points out. It could be the kind of answer that fits a request to borrow a chair, if the bar were really so crowded as to warrant it, or it could just be an invitation to sit. "Is it?" Taikrin asks, a hint of a tease in her voice as she settles herself down into it and folds her legs at the knee. "I wouldn't have reckoned you spending the evening with an empty table. Your wing doing alright by you? You're settling in okay, yeah?" Her smile is charming, but her tone of voice is probably what she thinks of as professional. It sounds pretty close to casual flirtation. "Anything I can do for you?" For that teasing question, Vienne just bounces her eyebrows high, a wordless question that teases right back, bold, perhaps, from a dainty little bluerider in the face of someone with Taikrin's reputation. Her own smile is amused as the spare seat is claimed and she lifts a hand to gesture toward her departed friend, standing at the bar waiting for service. "My wingmate just checked in on me." So at least her table hasn't always been empty. But she cants her head, eyes narrowed faintly as she regards the brownrider. "Do you remember me?" "So long as you're not alone. You're the bluerider from Igen," Taikrin responds quickly enough, still with her easy smile. "I think you were likely at my turnday, though I don't really got the best recollection of it there towards the end." No fangs, no fire-breath, no horns-- Taikrin really does appear pretty mild tonight. "This is why I'm asking about the settling, you know, in case it wasn't obvious. Things have been a little chaotic around here lately, and I don't want you feeling forgotten or what have you." The quick widening of Vienne's smile promises that she's not surprised Taikrin doesn't have the clearest of memories from the later hours of her turnday party. But she nods, because, "Yes, your turnday. Things have been interesting, but..." She sniffles and shrugs a narrow shoulder, none too worried about the tumultuous situation occurring in the upper ranks. Meanwhile, this is a notably mild Taikrin sitting before her and Vienne has to wonder, "Are you asking me as my weyrleader?" She can't help but smile a little. Taikrin gets a coy little smile at that question, and her answer isn't an answer. "I'm working on behalf of the weyrwoman, if that's what you're asking. Official capacity." It's not clear if there's a capitol letter in her 'weyrwoman' or not. "Reckon we'll have this whole mess settled out in a few sevendays, but in the meantime we won't have the whole Weyr worrying about being neglected. Besides, I always make it so that I'm sure all the women in my Weyr are getting on okay, right? Someone's got to do it." "Official capacity," Vienne repeats, something wry and knowing in the smile she shares. Her glance flicks over the other woman, relaxed as she appears in her chair. "I don't feel neglected," the bluerider assures, that gaze skimming wide again, passing over various heads without seeing any faces. "I can't speak for anyone else." Her grin cracks open a little more; there's something she finds funny. Still, it doesn't mar her polite reply: "I appreciate the attention, though. It's nice to know the leaders are looking out for everyone." "Good, I'm glad." Taikrin chooses to share in the grin, as if she were completely and totally in on the joke. "Like I said, we're just trying to look out for everyone's best interests. So if there's anything I can do for you, you'll let me know, yeah? Mielline's the right sort of wingleader, and she takes care of her riders. I don't expect you'll have trouble, but if you do-- well. I'd like to know about it? I like to consider myself a problem solver. The Weyrwoman's problem-solver, for the time being." Maybe it's just Taikrin's very official offer of assistance that Vienne seems to find amusing, because there's something a little extra proper in the way she gives her curt nod, the stern set of her brow that seems to be meant in jest. "I'll do that." It's all very serious and not quite, at least until her smile quirks to one side. "If I have a problem for you to solve, does that make you my problem-solver as well?" For a moment, Taikrin's smile goes wider yet. She opens her mouth, closes it, then offers plainly -- and a little ruefully, "Yeah, I reckon you could think of me as your personal problem-solver too. Just doing my part." For a moment she seems once more to be on the verge of saying something else, then adds simply, "Taikrin the problem-solver. That's me." It's the ruefullness that inspires a light laugh in Vienne, only that, in turn, inspires a harsh, wet fit of coughing that has her craning her head away with that hanky lifted to her mouth. She takes a moment to be sure it's really passed before she turns an apologetic smile toward Taikrin. "Sorry. I was sick. It sounds worse than it is," she mentions, swallowing hard and chasing it with the last of her tea. But back to the matter at hand: "I always wanted one of those," she says with dry humor. "A personal problem-solver." But her glance tightens again, mouth too. "What were you going to say?" "What was I going to say?" Is that discomfort? "Nothing important-- reckon I been in too many meetings with too many wingleaders lately. Faranth, but some of 'em are self-righteous pricks. But then, some of them are bronzeriders." This Taikrin seems to think is high humor-- but she's also got half an eye on Vienne while she chuckles at her own joke. "Anyways, I reckon I better not keep you if you're not feeling your best. But I did mean it, that bit about whatever I can to help. Even if it's escorting you to meet Madilla." There's no sign at all that Vienne believes Tairkin's sidestep to be anything other than avoidance. There's no ready, commiserating light in her eye. But she smiles back, willing to let the brownrider get away with it, a chuckle in her chest that is all movement and no sound. "That must be a lot of fun," she quips with the arch of a brow. However, it's with a sigh that she agrees: "I probably should be seeing myself off to bed. I really am on the mend -- it's just at that stage where the cough makes me sound like I'm dying." She turns to tuck her book into the pocket of her jacket that's hanging over the back of her chair, but she flicks another glance at Taikrin. Grinning, she adds, "I'll keep your offer in mind, though." "Sure thing." Taikrin rises easily to her feet, with her untouched beer in hand. "Rest well. And do go find Journeyman Madilla if you need something for sleeping-- she's got the good stuff. You can tell her I sent you for it. Have a good night, okay?" |
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