Logs:Greenrider Gossip
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| RL Date: 6 May, 2015 |
| Who: Telavi, Yesia |
| Type: Log |
| What: It was the greenriders in the greenhouse with the gossip mill! |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Drex/Mentions, Edyis/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Itsy/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, Keysi/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, Zeke/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Feel free to edit, etc etc. |
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>---< Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr(#2203RJ) >-------------------------------< A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- Telavi F 25 5'7" trim, dk. blonde hair, blue-green eyes 6m Yesia F 17 5'5" hourglass, red hair, hazel eyes 0s It's early evening, just after dinner, and the bustle of the weyr seems to be everywhere but here. In the greenhouse, with the doors closed, there is a certain serenity that feels rare and precious, with nothing but the distant chatter of people passing when it is loud enough to clear the vents and the gentle trickle of the small irrigation pool cycling. It makes sense there might be someone within, taking a break from the people and finding reprieve from the sudden chill in the air after the sun is gone. Yesia has taken advantage, and though her books and parchment are on the bench, scattered as if she was recently working, the girl is no longer at it. Her attention is taken with some of the blooming plants, and she's sticking her nose in various flowers as she meanders up the aisle. She meanders, recently-arrived Telavi meanders-- after her, not quite on tip-toe but exaggeratedly following, stopping here and there if Yesia looks her way as though playing a littles' game of 'freeze.' She's not on the same aisle, but the next one, peeking through foliage. Someone's watching! More meandering. A huge, tropical yellow one catches her eye, and the redhead dips her head there too, smelling deeply of the saccharine, smiling and sighing contentedly as she straightens again, eyes fluttering open as she moves. It's just in time to see movement on the other side, maybe eyes, maybe a flash of blonde hair. She's guarded at once, her voice demanding and undeniably irritated. "Who is that?" "I..." is breathy, melodramatic, "...am the spirit of weyrlings past." The voice is familiar, at least, breathy or not. "Telavi," Yesia identifies, relaxing, planting a hand on her hip and using one hand to gently move the nearby foliage aside. "Weyrlingmaster," is an added afterthought, but she's smiling when she can finally see her. "That was a terrible ghost voice." "I'd like to see you do better," Telavi challenges as she emerges, one hand just as exaggeratedly on hip while the other waves encouragingly in the air. Yesia laughs, apparently delighted by this. "It's better when I have hair," she says, gently barbing even as she pulls what remains forward to shield most of her face, and slouches awkwardly. "I...am the ghost....of weyrlings past," she tries, and it's probably not a whole lot better, because she's trying not to laugh. "Weyrlings aren't scary," she decides, flipping her hair back and smoothing the curls into place." "I still have Zeke's, you know. I could make you a wig," Telavi teases, and then applauds for Yesia anyway. She's not trying not to laugh, and it shows. When she can speak again, she doesn't; instead, she slides a long look to her left, and then her right, as though to espy would-be eavesdroppers. In a whisper, "I can prove you wrong." Yesia's skeptical face is nevertheless also very tolerant, and extremely amused. "No, thank you," is to the first question. and to the second? A snort, ever eloquent between girls like them. She's silent for a moment, then gestures that Telavi can proceed. "I bet you cant." "Done," Telavi says, and although she's not smiling precisely, both dimples are showing. She keeps her voice low, hushed, tale-telling. "It hasn't happened yet, but it's bound to-- just wait!-- when all of us girls get on our cycles at once." Yesia considers this, a finger coming to her chin to tap thoughtfully. "That's not that bad. In fact, it's only bad because some dragons have very bad taste." A brisk shake of the head, for that and maybe for Tela's opening. "And then?" she prompts. 'Taste.' Telavi curls up her lip, ew! "It is so," is slightly more sedate for the prompt, but only comparatively, with that warm gleam in her eyes. "You know I'zech, don't-- do you? He was an assistant weyrlingmaster too, bronzerider, tattoos all over." She might exaggerate slightly. Surely he doesn't have tattoos between his fingers! Yesia's judgement is spelled out on her face. A distasteful wrinkle of her pert nose. upper lip curling. "Sounds no better than Farideh's gross sailor," she says, perhaps unwisely. "What happened to class, ugh." But her expression settles - the lip uncurling and the wrinkle smoothing some, though one eyebrow goes up. "But no, I've never heard of him? Why is he not one now?" No offense Telavi, but we're talking bronzeriders. Telavi watches those expressions go by with the affectionate amusement of a tutor; "I don't know why, not for real anyway, he just--" she waves her hand. "Anyway, he came to check on me once when I was bleeding," that time where Telavi disappears from the barracks for a minimum of a day and often a couple more, "and was absolutely horrified, all his 'I'm so tough I can pretend like I don't care,' just gone." Go, greenriders! "But what's this about her sailor? I've heard the odd rumor," but she shrugs a little, brows going up. Time for Yesia to teach her? "Are you serious?" Yesia sounds equal parts incredulous and tickled, shaking her head. Telavi's haircut handiwork bobs quite nicely with the movement. "I always knew they had to be acting like they were that tough. It's so stupid." As for Farideh's sailor? "I only ever saw him once," she says as warning. "But...I don't know, he looked so dirty and I am pretty sure I saw a tattoo of a skull on his arm. It was so tacky, and it looked really stupid when he moved it and his muscles flexed." There is a serious silence to follow, and Yesia lowers her voice to impart, "Also, he's a murderer. That's like, prerequisite to being a pirate. It's kind of sad, actually. He could be cute if he wasn't so...grimy." Telavi's got the wide-eyed fascination going, for her part, starting with a fervent nod for all that stupid. "A skull, really? You'd think they could think of something more creative. Or at least so that the skull's jaw moved or something when he flexed his muscles, like it was talking. But-- who did he kill? Does she know? She'd have to know, wouldn't she?" "If she does," Yesia sniffs, "she doesn't seem to care. I don't know who, probably someone who wouldn't give him their stuff. I heard from someone that he even hit someone at the feast. He's just violent." Because, duh, he's a pirate. "What I really wonder is whether or not she knows he's probably sleeping with that other girl. The one with the long red hair that he was always hanging around. You don't hang out with a girl like that all the time unless you're together." She shakes her head slightly. "I really hope her bad judgement doesn't bleed into how she acts as a weyrwoman. I can't imagine." Telavi might be touchy about people hitting other people at feasts, given how her expression clouds over, or maybe it's just this particular one. "What's a sailor even doing here, anyway? It's not like anyone sails boats around here, unless it's the little-littles, and they don't really count. Long red hair..." now she's thinking hard, murmuring something about how she'd swear she'd remember long red hair. Yesia shrugs. "Apparently we just let anyone in," she says with a touch of disappointment. "Hat!" she says, helpfully when it's clear Tela isn't placing the person in question. "She has a hat and really grimy hair." A sigh. "I wonder if they take oaths not to wash themselves. I could never be a pirate." Redhead or no redhead, Telavi can be distracted enough to laugh, until that mention of, "Grimy hair? How disappointing. You'd think with all that water, they would bathe more, but then salt can be awful for the skin. Were they wearing grimy clothes, too?" "Only slightly better dressed than drudges," Yesia confirms. "I'm glad they're gone, though. It's not safe to keep pirates and thieves and murderers around." Which should be obvious, but apparently isn't for everyone. "What if they had been Searched? What if one of them had Impressed?" Someone clearly hasn't heard about certain riders already kicking around the weyr. "Are you sure none of them haven't? Someone," Telavi glances down the length of the greenhouse as best she can, "might have cleaned one of them up." Yesia looks utterly appalled at that. "Don't you dare," she orders, scandalized. "You can't take that sort of...of...badness out of people. Not even a dragon. Not even good clothes can hide them from people." "I don't know, good clothes can do quite a bit," Telavi mulls, but then she's peeking at Yesia. "There could be good pirates, couldn't there? There are in the stories. What if he's one, and masquerading? Unless he had a mustache, and he was twirling it? Because that is a sign of badness." Yesia's slender eyebrow is up, nearly nestling in her hairline in her incredulity. "I doubt it," she says. "Those are stories, not real life. He didn't have a mustache," she'll admit grudgingly. "But he had beady eyes." "Beady eyes aren't a good sign," Telavi says with a sigh. "Who sleeps with beady-eyed men? I mean, unless you're really drunk, or they come with a good recommendation... I don't know." She plays with a leaf. "I can't believe that someone can be bad-bad-bad unless they really work at it. Or super-selfish maybe? Maybe that." Poor leaf; it's partly crumpled now. "Like I said, he could be cute. If he wasn't a dirty pirate who slept with Farideh." The weyrling is quiet in her consideration, of both Tela and her crumpled leaf. "Maybe they do," she says. "Maybe that's why Farideh sleeps with him. Because they're both selfish. I bet that's it." "But both selfish makes really bad sex," Telavi protests in all practicality. "Which is probably why they fought all the time," is Yesia's equally practical response. Telavi giggles. She giggles. "Yesia! You're awful," is absolutely and totally praise. Yesia preens with satisfaction at that praise, correcting, "No. I'm honest. It makes perfect sense, doesn't it?" "It does," Telavi's all too ready to agree, and if she comes up with another version... she skips onward. "So is that why she's all... mood swing-y, and doesn't hang around the barracks much? Because he's gone, left her--" maybe Telavi should stop there. Yesia's apparently not much of a giggler, though she does make a sound in the back of her throat that could be amusement. "I don't know, really. But if it means she's not around, threatening to send me to Monaco if she becomes weyrwoman and leading that idiot hoard of brownriders, I don't care where she goes." Sulky, now, her lower lip out in a pout. "She says she's busy, but so are the rest of us." She gestures flippantly towards her forgotten bench, where her work still rests. Suddenly Tela's mouth is tight, though she hears Yesia out before demanding, "Did she really threaten to?" Looking away as she was, Yesia seems to miss the exact point when Tela's annoyance kicks. She turns back sharply, surprised. "Yes. She said that if Roszadyth rises first, that would be her first thing." "That is not okay." Telavi pulls that leaf apart. "I don't care if you were trying to aggravate her even. Ugh." Yesia draws back slightly, eyeballing that ripped leaf, looking surprised at Telavi's tone. But then again, she's not lying, and she's certainly not going to defend Farideh. "I wasn't trying to aggravate them. They were telling me they thought I was sleeping around, and they started it. I was just looking at one of the brownriders and it was them being nasty. I won't just sit there and take it." "You shouldn't," Tela agrees, yet distress fills those blue-green eyes as she looks back at Yesia. "But I worry because if she does rise first, or even if she doesn't and she talks Irianke into it, she could get rid of you. And that's not fair, you belong here just as much as anyone. I mean, 'it's important to get along with your clutchmates la la la,' that really is true, we're not just saying that... but this is huge." Yesia's expression turns slightly wary. "It doesn't feel like it," the greenrider says, perhaps encouraged by the fact that she's talking to Telavi, someone who has earned her trust. "I - Aeaeth and I were thinking about transferring to Igen. I even have the letter half written. I was going to give it to someone next seven." She sighs lightly. "I'd rather go to Igen on my own then be sent to Monaco just because Farideh wants to make me miserable. I won't let her have that power." It's not as though Telavi didn't know that weyrlings were going to go to Igen, didn't know as one of the first... and yet, "You, Yes?" Her face has fallen. "I mean... if she does get after you, that would be better maybe, especially if she might make you stay to make it worse... but I don't want you to go." Apparently unwilling to commit, Yesia says nothing at first. It's a rare moment. "Do you think Roszadyth will rise first?" comes her eventual thoughtful question. "I mean. I don't really want to go. I'd be even further from home and even if I could visit it wouldn't be the same." "I don't know," Telavi gives her just as seriously back, without any of the effervescence she specializes in. "I could bet, but... that would be playing the odds, not knowing." "Oh." Disappointment there, a twist of the lips into a bitter little smile for the lack of clarity. "Maybe I'll stay. I'll think about it," she says at length, and sincerely, with eye contact and everything. "I won't even turn it in until the last day, so I have enough time." "That's good," Telavi says as sincerely, and then impulsively reaches to press Yesia's hand in hers for just a moment. "That's sleeping on it, lots and lots of times." The blonde presses her teeth into her lip, not quite biting, gaze lowered before quickly it lifts. "In the meantime... try to make people be your friends? She's distracted; it's a good time. It would be good anyway. And... there's this silver thread thing coming up, special training, more work but special. You could do it; you could use that anywhere." "I do try," is insistence that falls a bit flat, but Yesia seems to be considering it all, silent, looking off at one of the nearby plants with an unreadable expression. She eventually takes a deep breath, squeezes Telavi's hand in return. "I'll keep trying. But," and maybe this partially attributed to that thousand-mile stare, "Aeaeth's awake now. She's asking after me before it gets too dark for her to hunt." She releases Telavi's hand and gives her a small but genuine smile. "I'm really glad you're here. Thank you." Telavi actually pinkens, color rising along her cheeks, her eyes bright; "Thank you. I mean... thank you." Some days, Telavi is better at her job than others; of course, some days it isn't just her job. "Go, go. Shoo. Kill kill kill!" Yesia laughs, quickening to her things. They're gathered quickly and neatly into her arms, held to her chest. She'll toss a glance back, leaving Telavi with a small wave and, "Good night!" as she hurries down the aisle and out, to kill kill kill. |
Comments
Alida (04:18, 8 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
- giggles* Go forth, and kill kill kill, little dragons! :D
Drex (03:14, 9 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
I'll accept being called a dirty pirate, but beady eyes?! You wound me. Just wait until I get back!
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