Logs:Mud and Mayhem
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| RL Date: 21 March, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Faryn, Drex |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rain doesn't stop Farideh, Faryn, and Drex from having a fantastically dramatic discussion. |
| Where: East Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Rainy. |
| Mentions: Itsy/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, Tomic/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions |
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| There is a wet feline in the middle of the bowl. Wait. No. Correction. There is a wet herder in the middle of the bowl, one who apparently has been taking care of duties despite the rain and mud. Her hair is plastered to her head, though that's no indication of how man times exactly she might have made this trek back and forth between the feeding grounds and whatever destination she's wandering towards. She's drawn her coat as tight as her displeased expression, and is making quick, if somewhat slippery, work of her travels. The rain is starting to taper off, despite a day long deluge, and it has conveniently wound down to sprinkling when Farideh chooses to brave the wet and mud in the bowl. No amount of spring weather has convinced her to keep away from her bulky winter wardrobe though, and it's with her too-big coat, appropriately damp from the weather, that she picks her way around puddles. She looks annoyed - that she has to hop-skip-jump to avoid ruining her boots any more than they already are? - and can be heard mumbling quietly to herself as she moves in a peculiar, zigzag path towards the lower caverns, away from the weyrling barracks; why she'd want to go there is anyone's guess. It's in spotting Faryn that her pace quickens and she calls a winded, "Hey! Wait up!" to the herder. There's the sound of low-voiced singing coming from the other side of the bowl, the black-coated figure coming out from the tunnel leading out of the Weyr. The rain dampens down the noise, and makes the sailor difficult to distinguish until he's nearer, by which time Drex's song apparently finishes. He's got a half-drunken bottle of something his held loosely in one hand, the step-weave-step a good indication where the other half might've gone. He splashes through puddles rather than around, like he doesn't really care. Someone hailing her is enough to stop Faryn in her tracks, looking for the source. Her sigh is visible even from a distance when she notes Farideh, but something stays her anyways and she waits, her hands stuffed in her pockets so the other woman can catch up. She's far enough ahead that she can afford to give Drex a wary look and a warning expression: do not splash me, even though a bit more water wouldn't make much of a difference to her particular circumstance. "Oi," she offers the sailor, perhaps hoping a distraction will prevent it, "odds are high that one of these puddles is going to be bottomless. You could die." Either Farideh doesn't care that her mere presence earns a sigh from the herder, or she doesn't care; hint: it's the latter. "Did you ever get your cards back from Laine?" is the first thing out of the laundress' mouth, but it's overshadowed by a frown and creased forehead. "What?" It's obvious she thinks Faryn is talking to her at first, until she looks back to see who could be about to die in a bottomless puddle. She, in turn, sighs when she spots Drex splashing through the mud and bottle-wielding, her expression taking a dismal turn. Drex trudges along, pausing only when Faryn's comment, at first, receives a blank look from the sailor, a glance downwards, then back up. "It'd be like being on the ocean again. I might enjoy it," he says once he draws nearer, gaze flickering towards Farideh, with a barely suppressed scowl, before he shoves one hand in his pocket, and the other is used to draw the bottle to his mouth. The way he squints skyward, after, suggests the rain doesn't particularly bother him; it might even be welcome. Still, it doesn't explain why he says, "You two should get out of the rain." "Oh. Of course she took them," Faryn says. Why would it make sense Farideh take them? She shakes her head, probably at her own stupidity thinking the laundress would care for even a second. "No, I don't have them. I'll find her." Not now, though. Now she's got two people to keep her focus, at least a bit, and she doesn't seem to miss the interactions between the two. "I plan on it," is her vague response. Her next comes as afterthought: "I thought you were leaving, soon?" Her unspoken suggestion is that soon may have already passed. "She probably forgot," Farideh suggests, helpfully. "You and Tomic ran off in a hurry, and then I did and then there was that party--" She stops herself from gushing on and on, especially with Drex standing right there. Her hands slip into her coat pockets as she turns to eye the sailor, her lips compressing unpleasantly. The expectation on her face suggests she is also waiting for his answer to the apprentice's question, but she says nothing, not even a rebuttal. Drex's, "Yeah. Soon," is a mixture of disgruntled and oddly aggressive. It's unlikely that he's upset specifically with Faryn or the question so much as the delay. Folding his arms across his chest doesn't look quite so intimidating when a bottle still hangs from one hand. "Mm, maybe." A glance from the sailor to the laundress, then back. Her permanent smirk seems genuinely perplexed by the pair, but she doesn't dwell. "Weather's unfavorable, anyway," she offers, as if that's some consolation. Still, the herder's unaccustomed to carrying a conversation - shards, Farideh's here, she shouldn't have to - and she falls into a slightly uncomfortable silence. For some reason, Farideh looks genuinely annoyed with the sailor's non-response, and makes a scoffing sound, followed by a hard roll of her eyes. It's obvious her intention is to stomp off and leave them to their brilliant conversation about the weather, and she does start to, taking a few steps away, towards the lower caverns like before. Except, when you're angry-stomping away, trying to look cool and pissed off at the same time, not looking where you're going, in the rain-- well, it shouldn't be surprising when she missteps into one of those puddles Faryn was warning Drex about earlier, and falls right onto her butt. Mud splashes everywhere, real nice like, and she just sits there, completely flabbergasted that that just happened; she's not even thinking about the embarrassment of doing it in front of those two, yet. With another squint skyward, Drex says, "Aint so bad. Been in worse." Like that Tillek storm for one, and it seems that thought darkens his expression. Maybe he was even setting in to sulk about it, but Farideh's stomping departure can't help but get his attention, as well as the aftermath. He stares at her, dumbfounded, for a moment. Or more. Though she tries, the herder doesn't quite stifle all of her laughter when she hears Farideh splat on the ground. Her hand flies to her mouth to suppress it, seconds too late. She does wait. A glance is spared for Drex, waiting to see if that slip will spur him into anything more dynamic than grunting, and when it doesn't Faryn manages to swallow whatever distaste it was that made her sigh earlier. She steps cautiously around the puddle that felled Farideh, frowns down at her, then offers her hand with a no-nonsense, "Up you get, before you soak through." The way she fell, her legs are splayed out in front, and her hands reached out to break her fall in the back. "No," Farideh grounds out at Faryn, when she offers her hand; there's even a glare. She probably heard the herder laughing, or falling in muddy puddles makes her irascible. Ungracefully, she tries to extricate herself from the mud, but it's hard when everything keeps getting sucked down. When she finally makes it to her feet, holding her muddied hands out as far away from her body as she can, she twists to try to survey the damage. There's big globs of mud still stuck to her backside, among other traces of wet and slimy earth. "Oh, crap," is paired with an angry glare at Drex, because this is obviously his fault. Drex's expression can be best described as disgruntled, though whether that's at Faryn, Farideh, or himself is anyone's guess. He rocks forward a step, but Faryn beats him to it, and subsides back into a slouch, watching Farideh struggle to her feet. It's the glare that spurs him to movement: "What did I do? You're the one that stomped off -- after, mind, sending a rider to try and seduce me and force me to stand." Never, ever let it be said that she didn't try to be nice, at least once. Farideh's growl is enough to make Faryn lift her hands up, palms forward, in surrender and take a step back that does not, for some reason, culminate in her falling square on her ass. She watches the struggle before her with lifted eyebrows, and her damned smirk returns as quickly as it disappeared, however briefly, for sympathy. Thankfully, the laundress makes it to her feet without falling again, but some interaction that Faryn seems to miss in her evaluation of the other woman sets another ball rolling. She looks stunned when he speaks, but his accusation is not something she misses. She opens her mouth, possibly to correct him, then shuts it so abruptly her teeth click and considers the direction he just came from. Then she stands there and waits, because drama is happening. Now is a perfect time to flap her hands and fling extra mud flying; if it lands on Faryn or Drex, so be it. "Excuse me," Farideh shoots back, "but I did not tell anyone to seduce you or force you to do anything. He is probably screwing someone way better looking than you, anyway." There's no reserve on the amount of anger in her words, and even her face colors hot with it. "He offered to ask you and I told him he could try if he wanted, but that you would probably say no, because you're stupid and you can't see anything beyond that stupid boat of yours." Her eyes cut briefly to Faryn, considering, but whatever thoughts she has, she doesn't voice them to the herder. "I wish you'd leave already," she settles on, clenching her jaw and glaring at Drex, again, her fingers curling into muddy fists. "Ship," Drex can't help but to correct, even if it means he gets coated in a bit of mud in the process. "Why are you being so... such a girl? I told you I'd be leaving. I asked you to come and you said no. And now you want me to leave?" If he was disgruntled before, now he's just plain mad. "Why are you women so contrary?!" the latter's directed at Faryn, like she might have some more insight into things. Faryn is a bit distant, like she's contemplating writing a book about this sort of nonsense when she makes it to the stables, so when Drex addresses her directly it takes her a moment. Her brows knit in consternation. "There're different kinds of girls," she says, slightly offended, cutting a glance at Farideh, like the suggestion that they're even remotely of the same stock is deplorable. And maybe she has no right to say so, but now she's had an invitation, even incidental, so she adds, tone neutral, "If you're leaving anyways, it doesn't matter whether she's agreeable, does it?" "Yes," Farideh screams at him, "your stupid ship. That's all you ever think about. At least Itsy has offered to write to me and wants me to come out to meet her at ports. And you? You invite me on your stupid ship, so I can what? Be like Itsy?" Her scoff is filled with all kinds of derision, her face too, even if she claims the other sailor as friend, as well. She's poised to yell at him some more, probably to tell him where he can stick that bottle he's holding, but Faryn's interjection takes her by surprise. It's an unlikely source of support. "I... well..." Drex looks momentarily dumbfounded by Faryn's response, which probably doesn't help his mood any, judging by the noise he makes at the back of his throat. "It matters, because..." he darts a look at Farideh, and just exhales, "It just does." The rain might've gotten lighter, but it hasn't completely stopped, and he takes a couple of steps towards Farideh, muttering gruffly, "Stop being a stubborn wench and get inside before you freeze your ass off." A beat. "Both of you." It's almost like Faryn is genuinely interested in his answer, because she's studying him as he fishes for a viable response. With each curtailed attempt, the crafter's brows hike minutely towards her hairline,and the moment he delivers his defeated answer they drop, leaving her with an unimpressed expression. An expression that lasts very briefly, because his next has her hands curling into fists and the muscle in her jaw flexing reactively. She holds herself still. "Watch," she says darkly, cheeks coloring, "who you're calling a wench. If you misjudge, you might find yourself knocked in the mud too." "What does that even mean?" Farideh sounds tired, and exasperated, from this whole ordeal, but she's not backing down off her anger. She holds a hand out, one dirty finger pointed towards him, when he starts coming closer. "Don't," probably means she thinks he's going to pick her up and carry her off again. Her eyes flick to Faryn, her eyebrows pulling together with mild concern, and then back to Drex, that same concern lingering. "You're both crazy." Kettle to the pots, of course. A short range of emotions play across her face, but her eyes stay steadily on the sailor, for now. "I want to Stand," she blurts out gravely, finally. There's intent in her words, a strange sort of desperation. Don't they understand? It's just, very, remotely, possible that Drex was intending to do just that, but the lift of a single finger of Farideh's prevents him from advancing further. Distracted by Farideh, Faryn's dark response catches him by surprise. "Aint meant to be an insult," he says, with a frown. Maybe there'd be more than a vaguely surprised uncertainty in his voice -- like an apology? -- if Farideh's latter words didn't snap his attention back to her. "The fuck you want to do that for?" A beat, as a variety of emotions cross his face. "Is that why you wanted me to stand? Not because you wanted me here, because you didn't want to do it alone?" The darkness seeps out of Faryn's face and voice, the insult forgotten as suddenly as she latched to it - though it seems less a result of Drex's tone or subtle apology and more of Farideh's desperate proclamation. She turns fully to Farideh, for once. "Do you?" is curious and a little surprised. "Then ask. And you," for Drex, "tell them where they can stick it if you really don't want to. They can't make you, if you don't want to, but it doesn't mean a dragon won't find you in the sands if you're still here." Grimly, "Or go between." She casts a look at each again - him, her, back to him. "You both can make your own damned decisions, I'd wager -" and she'd probably lose - "so make them and live with it." "I-- think so," to Faryn, her anger starting to simmer down in the face of the other girl's rational thinking. That doesn't mean she doesn't glower back at Drex when she answers him, after a lengthy stare at the herder. "Why not? What else am I going to do? Work in the laundry forever? Live on your boat?" The 'boat' is obviously meant to provoke him. "That's just absurd. I wouldn't be alone. There's going to be a lot of candidates. Have you seen how many eggs there are? I think they get double that amount, or triple, maybe. I thought, if you did, then you would--" She wavers, unsure, with a self-conscious flick of eyes to Faryn. "Stay. It doesn't matter now, you said no, and I'm going to say yes, and you can just go jump off into the ocean." It's totally not immature when Farideh crosses her arms, mindless of the mud she's getting onto her shirt, and turns to the apprentice. "Are you going to Stand if they ask?" "Aint no dragon dumb enough to want me," Drex retorts to Faryn, as if that should be obvious. "Fine. I'll do just that. And let you -- both -- freeze out here to boot. See if I care." There might just be a deliberate stamp of Drex's feet that causes a bit of a splash as the sailor starts to plod off towards the caverns. When the question is turned on her, the older woman closes off. "I've had plenty of time for them to ask me. I figure if my mum's dragon never asked me for Ista, well." She shrugs. It's in the running for the best non-answer of the Turn. Anyways, she's got to stop to turn a look at Drex, retaliating at the splash on her pants by kicking a gob of mud at his retreating back and rolling her eyes so hard it's a wonder she doesn't hurt herself. "You'd be surprised," she calls after him. "I've met some really dense dragons." But she doesn't try to lure the sailor back, and she turns instead to Farideh. "If you want to Stand, you'd better take charge and ask. I wouldn't rely on the dragons; they're about as faultless as their riders. A little better, but not perfect." Knowingly, that, and maybe her smile for the laundress has softened, at least slightly. The sailor can't get the last word in. That would be a travesty. "Make sure you do. I never want to see you again," Farideh shouts after him, looking at once angry and sad at the same time. She isn't amused by Faryn's mud-kicking, and sighs when she turns towards the herder, dropping some of her earlier bravado and allowing that melancholy to overcome her expression. "I intend to ask. I need to talk to someone, first, and then--" Her eyes lift to Drex's retreating form and her mouth tightens. "I can't sit around and wait, right?" Whether she's talking about the dragons or a certain sailor - well, it's pretty vague, and she seems to want it that way. If Drex is aware of the extra mud that gets kicked onto the back of his coat courtesy of Faryn, he doesn't turn before he disappears into the tunnel. He gets the last word if he can't hear the response, right?! "Not if you want anything to change," Faryn supplies, noncommittally. "Good luck, either way." Maybe this means she doesn't think Farideh is as insufferable as all that, but she is going the other direction, towards the stables. "You'd better get those stains out," she adds as a final suggestion, and that's the last she has to say on anything, for now. "Yeah. I will." Farideh is still wearing that melancholy expression as she watches Faryn walk away, but she's quickly following suit, weaving her way, awkwardly towards the lower caverns and likely, the bathing pools. |
Comments
Edyis (03:17, 21 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
These are always so fun to read.
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