Logs:Tapped into Aurora
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| RL Date: 28 April, 1008 |
| Who: Lujayn, Satiet |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Satiet and Lujayn share drinks at the Snowasis. Rielsath is insanely curious. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Of all places to be summoned by the weyrwoman, the Snowasis seems to be an unlikely bet given it's informal attitude and the general leisure that hangs about the cavern. Still, when Teonath ventures forth sand-dusted clouds of thought towards the winter bright queen, it's to request Lujayn's presence in the aforementioned bar, where the raven-haired woman sits waiting, legs crossed, on a stool at the counter. Two clear, glass mugs rest before Satiet, the contents of which appear to be some liquor klah concoction. Rielsath bespoke Lujayn with « What does she want? Tell me, tell me... » Rielsath's reply is curious and shimmering, urging her rider quickly to the Snowasis and hovering around Teonath's mind for any clues about the reason of the meeting. Lujayn is a bit less excited than her lifemate, though she wears a smile as she enters the cavern at a much slower pace than the young gold would prefer. "Good afternoon," She greets Satiet before settling onto the next stool over. Perched there, she leans towards the counter, not yet reaching for either drink. "Rielsath got the message along pretty quickly." A dancing ring of reflected light, dapples skipping up from puddles and others glinting from snow, all hovering expectantly. Rielsath's fearsome curiosity has stirred. No questions for now, but the shimmering lights nearly ring out themselves. (Rielsath to Teonath) Rielsath's shimmering curiosity is batted away by her dam, careless licks of smoke flickering up into that hovering in efforts to cloud and shroud her own thoughts from the younger gold. But in the shrouding is a thread of indulgence, silvered about the edges and lifting sporadically in tantalizing snippets of very vague, amorphous 'what might bes.' "She did," Satiet agrees, a hand scooting one of those steaming mugs towards Lujayn. "And we appreciate her alacrity." Though the slender woman doesn't offer up her own smile, she's relaxed, her shoulders rolled back easily and the tilt of her head less appraising of this weyrling and more welcoming. "Did you enjoy the ball? Did you," a beat skips, pale eyes narrowing faintly in thought of that night, "Go to the ball?" "Of course I went," Lujayn reaches to grab the sliding mug, pulling it closer as she reminisces. "I'm glad I got a chance to visit the weavercraft beforehand, so I wasn't just a weasel in trousers and boots." Rielsath's focus fills up the silence as the girl takes a sip, adjusting mirrors and angles in the background of her mind to focus each little beam of light on a single point, trying to pierce the smoke offered up by Teonath. "It was a spectacular event. The best I can remember." Ah, the weasel. Enlightenment dawns in Satiet's un-narrowed eyes, a curt nod afforded this knowledge. Her lips quirk to one side, fingers playing an idle dance about the glass mug's handle. "Did you enjoy dancing with your weyrlingmaster then?" It's much easier to spot I'daur, masked or not apparently; the cane gives him away. Lujayn mirrors the small smile, perhaps channeling a bit of the weasel for the time being, or more likely Rielsath as the gold's persistent thoughts continue to hover, looking for an opening. "He needs some fun." She shrugs, feet swinging idly as they dangle from her stool's high seat. "Did you know it was me all along? I thought it was hard to tell." In the repositioned mirrors that pierce light through her clouds, Teonath rumbles a low-toned amusement, the experience of years deftly bringing more smoke, backlit by a bonfire's flames, to shroud her thoughts. "The costume," Satiet begins, her mug lifted to hover below her lips, "Was striking enough to be noticed. That it was you?" The goldrider's pale, clear eyes slant sidelong to sweep up and down Lujayn's athletic frame, only to stop at those gray eyes. "Was more difficult." As for I'daur, the slight woman shifts in her stool a bit, one leg dropping to dangle inches, more like feet, away from the floor, and then remarks, "He does. But he'd say he finds fun enough in his bottles. Did you," Satiet tips her head again, her turn to be curious, "Happen to notice who he came with?" Light met by more light, Rielsath attempts to insinuate herself into the flickering flames, using her own fiery arsenal to sneak down through the smokescreen. Perhaps a bit of damp, some ice melting under the sun's glare. What fuel burns there? "Oh, good." Lujayn looks pleased, relaxing even as her dragon insists that she pry at the meeting's purpose. "Glad it wasn't obvious." Gray eyes blink once, bright and curious despite the casual conversation. "I'daur mentioned someone called Anouka a few times, but I didn't recognize the name." She admits after a moment. Another sip, another shrug. "There's more kinds of fun than drinking. Nothing wrong with a little change." There's a telling pause on the weyrwoman's face, the delicate features frozen for just a second before a crafted smile emerges, not unpleasant, but not cheerful either. "Ah. Her." The explanation follows with in a two-worded response, "His ex-weyrmate." But enlightened again, Satiet tucks this information away with a succession of head nods before moving on. The mug falls to the table, one hand curled about it, the other rested at the counter's edge. "Rielsath's persistent. Almost child-like. She reminds me of one of my daughters." Lujayn watches all the more closely, the answer coming before she can press a question upon Satiet. There's more interesting things to discuss than ex-weyrmates and escorts at a ball, so the young goldrider plunges onwards. "Rielsath is Teonath's daughter," A thoughtful tilt of the head, tucking a strand of tawny hair behind one ear. "So she's /almost/ your daughter. By association, or something like that." She laughs briefly, grinning with that teasing look. "Think if she keeps at it long enough she'll get somewhere?" The hand at the counter's edge drops, falling into the folds of Satiet's pants and when it reemerges, lays the intricate cords of a junior queenrider's knot on the counter with the badge of Aurora tucked in the middle of the double loops. "I-," Satiet pauses, a rather perturbed blink overcoming what she meant to say as the image of Rielsath as her daughter, by association even, falters her train of thought. "Oh Faranth, no." Face contorted a little, as the image imprints that much more deeply, the raven-haired woman shuts her eyes and shakes her head quickly though the older gold's merriment at Lujayn's conclusion wafts the smoke clouds away to reveal an image of Rielsath flanking Teonath's side in flight and fight. The weyrwoman's negation of her idea makes Lujayn smile all the wider, laughing that much longer. Both of those merry habits freeze when the knot appears; though she knew it eventually had to happen it's hardly less of a surprise. Rielsath's mind swoops joyfully down through the smokeless opening, sparks of exultant brightness flickering here and there. Yes, yes, yes. Delight shared by dragon and rider alike, Lujayn dares to grin again. "It was a good idea, at least. Is Teonath telling the truth?" There's the knot, the image from Satiet's gold, and still she asks. "Are we ready?" Teonath, amused, watches this spectacle in her mind without much to add to it; what more could she conceivably say or convey now? "I imagine if you're not ready now, you'll never be." Dry, that quip, Satiet is nonetheless affable in her inclined head. "I won't give you pretty speeches of being honored to fly with you, or if you'll honor me by flying in Aurora. We'll discuss the terms of your new rank and what kind of duties you'll perform in the future with Jaispe. For now," the weyrwoman tilts her head to the side and slips off that stool, "We should be sure not to be late for the lower caverns staff meeting, yes?" Lujayn nods, collecting the knot carefully. "That works just fine. I'm sure there are a lot of.." Something akin to panic flashes across her expression, though it's less severe. It might as well be 'ack!', but the smile doesn't disappear; that makes it that much more of a fleeting manic moment. "That's right, the meeting." Down goes the rest of the klah, mug set upon the counter with a heavy thud. Slipping off the stool, she starts off purposefully, maybe with a bit more of a spring in her step than her usual energy would provide. "Let's go." They could walk in hand in hand, arms swinging and cheerful. However that's not Satiet, and that kind of behavior might scare Lujayn. Instead, the weyrwoman begins a brisk pace out to the lower caverns and the meeting venue, expectant that the newly made junior will tag along. |
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