Logs:In Moments
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| RL Date: 28 June, 2015 |
| Who: Casseny |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: After Kaelige catches her in the Kitchens, Casseny ponders her path. |
| Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Kaelige/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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>---< Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr >-----------------------------------<
The Inner Caverns are a winding system of tunnels and caverns, both
natural and manufactured which shows in the smoothness of their walls.
Every commonly used tunnel and passageway has niches carved at regular
intervals to hold glows that are tended by the Weyr's residents. At the
heart of this labyrinth lies the Commons Cavern, the hub of the Weyr's
housing area for both residents and crafters. A tunnel halfway between
those Commons and the Living Cavern, that feeds the Weyr's population,
leads to the Hot Springs despite its access to the Bowl. A curving
passageway connects the main tunnel with the Infirmary.
The Glass Fountain, Fort's bar and restaurant, is around the corner and
down flight of stairs off of the Living Cavern. The best way to find the
beer is to follow the trail of tipsy folks on their way home, or the
echoes of clinking glass and conversation. Well marked with a bold arrow
carved into the rock, a broad passageway dives nearly straight from the
heart of the caverns and down to the unloading area and beyond to Tunnel
out of the Weyr.
>-----------------------------------< A singular brown strand, beginning to fray at the ends with the need for a trim, was running free, a feint, aborted loop-de-loop before settling lightly enough to be nuisance across the bridge of her nose. A generous brush of tongue wet her fingers, and she could taste the remnants of mint, cinnamon, almond, coarse hide. Her hand smelled like his. Like outside, and activity, earthiness, and old adrenaline. Two fingers caught the root of the wayward hair, drawing it back to its fellows, smoothing it down until it blended totally into a whole. Nevermind that the rest of her runner's tail broke in all directions. Casseny'd made it out into the tunnels, piled with her tote, a bag of experimental tea, Molly's well-wishes, and the heady affair of freshly made bread and rashly made decisions. She'd gotten a good distance before her legs had absolutely turned to cook's pudding. She'd veered into a wall and slid down and now, here she was. Sitting in the tunnels at the crack of the morning with a bushel of bad medicine. But as she smeared that hair back into place, Casseny knew, in her warbling gut, that this wasn't fear. She wasn't afraid for her life or her livelihood. She thought maybe she should be, but, lately, that hadn't always lined up with the truth. She had some kind of disease, where, whatever she thought, she felt the opposite-- or didn't feel at all! Or felt, but no one let her. You used to be such a happy child. It didn't mean she wasn't happy now, she just-- Awareness of her clenched fingers had Casseny instinctively loosening them, pulling. Her entire head's worth of runner's tail came with, except one small weft, clinging together by half a tie. Casseny huffed out a big breath, feeling a surge of inappropriate annoyance-- of all things to finally lose it on... Kaelige, though. She didn't think he'd turn her in. She'd given him more fuel, knowingly-- if she hadn't gotten it done, then, it wouldn't have ever gotten done... but the fire... she didn't think it was ever discovery. Not like that. Fingers flexed forward, kneading into the material of the heavily laden bag at her side. Without looking, she could trace the individual shapes of sweet bun's wrinkles, muffin's head. All dried, all smelling temptingly. Probably. She'd sort of blown her nose out mixing so much, sticking her face in it, him getting his groddy hands on the kitchen supplies. One wrist twisted, testing its soreness, the soft remaining impression of a much harder grip throughout the knuckles. She could abort right here. If nothing ever happened, there was nothing to hold over. He hadn't sussed what she'd specifically been using. She hadn't done anything... But, when her eyes drifted briefly closed, the darkness transformed into shifted mud, displaced rocks, and Kaelige's outside smell was now Lux's, and she could see herself, choosing a stranger over her mother. Twin but opposing forces snatched each end of her stomach and twisted, roaring-- warring against each other. A headache sprang instant and oppressive and she dove her hands into her hairline, nearly freed strands cascading throughout her fingers. It passed after a second. Horrible, and then only a faint memory. No. She wasn't going to put off her mama again. Not be there for her a second time. She couldn't feel past her gut that she knew this was stupid, that it had nothing to do with the landslide. But it had everything to do with it. And she braced, and scraped, and pushed to her feet without a waver. She'd waited to let the memory of the prank fade, seem to be put to rest. Taken the herbs amidst these other suspicious stores shortages. Set herself up as having a pattern of reason to be at the Sanctuary at the right time. Taken up tea blending-- in fact, taken to it. No, Casseny. Her hands pushed back, grasping up the thick of her hair into one palm. The other loosened the tie, keeping it twined around one finger as the rest smoothed back everything on the top of her head, readjusting the first hand's grip several times to accommodate the new lay. When it was flat, and perfect, and no strand would fathom popping out of place, she tied off the tail and let it loose with a soft swing. A waft of heavy cinnamon and pastry dough hit her as she stood and her tongue licked her lips greedily. She'd brew today. She'd get it done. |
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