Logs:Toe The Line
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| RL Date: 30 October, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, V'ret |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo catches up with V'ret about their aims and the future. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: S'rin/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, T'gar/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
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Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr
Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods
characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths
gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost
always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its
denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample
space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry
and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a
day-to-day basis.
The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating:
swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner
caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food
service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and
benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day. With the weather being so nasty just past the end of dinner, many of the Weyr's denizens are keeping inside. Perhaps Jo is no exception, the black leather-clad wingsecond being the only one occupying the sole table with a bowl of stew, a mug of something brown and a stack of hides currently getting her perusal. She had sent her bronze fire lizard, Mime, out earlier to pester one weyrling in particular to come eat with her, and so she waits while the kitchen drudges bustle about in their clean up. Not an unfamiliar kind of pestering, that, no doubt, but evidently V'ret has not been annoyed nearly enough to be prompt. He gets into the kitchen still looking, despite having been inside for several minutes, like a walking advertisement for not going outside today. But the food is on this side of the bowl, and while he might have missed the rush, it's better late than never. Bowl acquired, he drops himself into the chair next to Jo. "He's getting better, but I probably don't have long." "That's alright, darlin'," Jo greets him, the fire lizard flying in right behind him only to settle out of the way and nearby. "Been meanin' to check up on ya some since....ya Impressed." And then some as the woman looks at his state before gesturing towards where food can be gotten. "Only saw Rat'n ya briefly after the hatchin'," she notes, setting the hides aside in favor of her remaining meal. "How are ya settlin' in?" The short hair arrived a couple days before the Hatching, but the shadows under V'ret's eyes are new with the dragon; he might look worn even if he weren't also cold and damp. Once he's seated with his own stew, and coat shed, he's able to take a deep breath and make some attempt at relaxing. "The hours are murder. Can't sleep, can't wake up worth anything. He only ever cat-naps during the day and acts distraught when I'm gone. I wouldn't let him lay down until just before I left, I hope it'll give me a little longer this time. The rest of it, though..." He contemplates his fork. Eyeing his face as she dips her spoon into the stew a few times, "Don' miss it," Jo relates, shaking her head. "It's gonna be rough for a lil' bit. Gonna have a few nights regrettin'. It'll pass. I saw him. Ya did good." Approval colors her otherwise even tone, nodding a few times. "What 'bout the rest'o them? Ya gettin' along with the others?" There's some hidden amusement there that she's not addressing as she resumes eating. "I think he might be bigger than Asaroth." Point of pride, and also patently ridiculous because there's no way he could possibly tell it at this point, but V'ret has to take his superiority where he can get it, doesn't he? "The rest of them are..." What are they? "Fine. S'rin and I've been friendly for a bit, wouldn't have expected, but he's got a better head on his shoulders than you'd think to look at him." If you were looking with Ev's biased eyes, anyway. "Most of them, don't have a problem with them, but can't see sitting down for a beer with them. Not that we're supposed to be having beers with anybody." "I hear Rat's havin' particular difficulties with his dragon," Jo counters on dragon size, the woman amused by V'ret's declaration nonetheless. "I trust the same is not with you 'n yers?" Downing some of her ale then as she hears the rest, there's a nod as she says, "Ya'll hopefully find those useful out of yer clutchmates. Might be wise to make friendly with the new goldrider, too. Jocelyn, was it?" Snorting then, "No beers. No sex. Reckon ya can use the one'n barely have time for the other right now. Just as well." There's a faint straightening of shoulders at this first: "No, of course not. Aside from some conflict over his inability to sleep, which will pass soon enough. We're just both tired, that's all." V'ret waves this off and then focuses on his food for a bit longer, thorugh the rest of it. "Sure there's something to be said for the choice being good for the Weyr, but pretty sure I'd sooner watch paint dry. Sure she's very responsible, but she's not a particularly pretty girl, is she? I'm sure she'll be very good at the bookkeeping." This is not a ringing endorsement. "It's not 'bout how pretty they are, those weyrwomen," Jo says, pausing in her meal to look at him. "It's 'bout what's between their legs'n the color of their dragon's hide. Not that ya should thinkin' 'bout any legs these days. Still. If she's malleable, better for our family. If not..." A slight shrug is given, the matter lost. "Anyway, when the time comes, there'll be plenty of pretty ones 'nough for ya. Bronzerider, now. A far cry from slingin' drinks. Ya'll even rise higher than I ever could just by the sheen of Zoth's hide." She doesn't sound bitter as she says it though. It's given like a statement of facts. That bit about what V'ret's supposed to be thinking about, legs or otherwise, gets him pulling a face, but he mostly is distracted by eating for a moment. Have to shovel in as much as possible before he has to go back, after all. "To be malleable, there has to be something there to mold, doesn't there?" But this seems to be rhetorical; he's not really waiting for a response. "It was a good job, the Snowasis. That kind of work keeps you busy. This just gives me too much time to spin like wheels on ice. No traction. You're a wingsecond. Might never get that far," he observes, like those thoughts are connected. "Still cheeky, I see," Jo observes, humor in her tone as she returns to her stew. "I hope ya remain so when this is all said'n done, V'ret. Bein' a weyrlin's gonna be shit, if yer ain' used to bein' told what to do all the time'n bunkin' with folks ya rather not. Gotta a turn to survive like we did. 'Least Zoth seems decent 'nough." As for rank, there's a pause on that as she drinks and sets the mug back down audibly on the table before she says, "Ya could end up Weyrleader. All it takes is him catchin' the right queen. May not take ya as long as it has been me, darlin'. Think 'bout it." Pause. "Tacuseth wants to check Zoth out sometime, if ya don' mind." There's a little incline of eyebrows as V'ret regards her, fork lifted halfway to his mouth: "I seem to let some people tell me what to do without much trouble." Oh, yes, he still has his sense of humor, no matter what the weather. "I'm nothing if not adaptable. But if I'm going to indulge wild fantasies, I'd prefer they were about Farideh. Even Irianke, and she's probably very nearly my mother's age." This does not have the tone of a revelation he's only just had; this has been considered. Jo's smile is bright for a brief moment on the first. It's oh-so sweet. "Ahhh, but I'm yer cousin," she states, leaning forward with an aim to gently thump the weyrling on his shoulder. "What else are we to do but harass? Ah, but perhaps ya don' mind it if pretty women tell ya what to do. Quinlys looks rather hot." The corners of her mouth turn up in the tease, though there's a tough shade of faltering at hearing one of the weyrwomen's names. There's a blink and the slight smirk is back in place as she says, "Like I haven' myself. Just make sure ya learn to block such fantasies from yer bronze or ya'll have some interestin' questions he'll want answered." She almost sounds like she would know as she finishes up her stew. Maybe V'ret isn't paying close enough attention to notice any change in her, or maybe he's just polite enough not to say anything. "Not like that discussion won't have to happen sooner or later. But he sleeps better at night than I do, so." So, there's one perk of insomnia, as it were. "I won't say Quinlys isn't attractive. Bit of a shrew, but you wouldn't think it to look at her, and it doesn't hurt any if the instructions come from someone easy on the eyes." Jo is listening, her attention rapt on his words enough that at the end of them she's laughing. "Oh, Rat'n ya are gonna drive'em up the fuckin' wall," she says, sounding suspiciously pleased by it. "Well, as long as ya'll toe the line'n don' end up held back, I don' care what grief ya cause. The real work comes when ya graduate. Ya have skills that'll come in real useful when yer free of these restrictions. Not sure 'bout Rat yet. Ya know if ya need Tac'n me for anythin', ya seek me out, right? Whatever it is. This place's yer home now. For good, if need be." "Grief." Hand over his heart, V'ret looks momentarily genuinely offended that she might say such a thing, but he can't hold that straight face for long. "I know. And I appreciate it. You know I do." Leaning towards her, almost conspiratorial, voice certainly kept down: "If I'd thought ahead, it would have done me well, but--a flask of something strong enough to help me get down to sleep a little easier wouldn't go wrong. Not as though he'll be awake. Don't think I can possibly get a full bottle in there, but something smaller... I don't care if it's the cheap stuff." "Yeah, grief," Jo echoes it as she briefly makes a face at him. "Weyrlin'hood'll go by fast, just ya see." When he leans forward, she does as well with a look towards the drudges still working the kitchen stoves as he gives his request. She considers it for only a few seconds before she nods and answers back, "Not too strong or ya'll oversleep'n then....the card's been turned. I'll get ya somethin' small enough. One of the cavern workers'll seek ya out. Just be careful," she warns as she turns to now drain her mug. "Keep yer head 'Less it's changed since I was a weyrlin', there's fuckin' eyes'n ears everywhere. Those dragons, included." A hand raised, as though for an oath: "Believe me, I'm no more in a hurry to make waves than anybody else is. Just tired, that's all, and not accustomed to having to get to bed so early, yet. Only been a few weeks--I imagine it'll get easier." A pause, then apropos of nothing, V'ret says: "You know, he's nearly as long as I am tall, now? Figured that out this morning." He's down now to scraping at the bottom of his bowl. There's clearly a few moment's thought about refilling it again, but then a sigh. "I have to get back. He's asleep, but he's not asleep enough to think I've got long enough for a bath." "Then make sure ya pass that speech on to T'gar, while yer at it?" Jo says with a twist of her lips. "He doesn' seem too bent on keepin' his head down. It will get easier, Ev. I wonder how big Zoth'll get. Does he talk a lot to ya? Is he pushy?" But still, the weyrling has to go and the wingsecond looks down at her own barren meal before she sighs and concedes herself. "Best I do, too," she says with some reluctance, but she gives V'ret a nod and a genuine smile before adding, "This knot's heavier than I thought it'd be. It's good to see ya, cousin. I'll check up on ya again Sometime. Rat, too. Look for me if ya need anythin' else." There's a meaningful look with that as she gets to her feet, gathering up the bowl and mug to get washed with the hides being tucked under one arm. "I would say something about it not being my fault someone decided we both needed to stand--but I realize that there was every chance we both could have walked away from this, too." V'ret has not, sleep-deprived or not, turned into an idiot. "We talk. He has opinions. It's... comfortable. I think when he's older, it will be downright easy." Famous last words. "I will do. And, well, vice versa. You need raw meat? That, I can usually get my hands on." He's getting up, pulling his still-damp coat back on with a visible grimace. Nodding, "Walk away from a chance at a better life? If ya walked, ya would have been stuck with wonderin' for the rest of yer life." Jo nods to the drudge that offers to take her bowl and mug before turning back to V'ret and grinning on what she hears about his bronze. "Come a time ya'll realize he's all ya got on yer side at the end of it all," she says, a touch wistful. "Nothin' matters compared to that. Not even family." It's almost blasphemous considering where her loyalty lies, but the wingsecond doesn't linger on it. "Ya can keep the raw meat, darlin'. Try'n get some sleep, hm? 'N, congrats." It's a slight salute that she gives him before she heads out, tossing over her shoulder, "We'll catch another meal sometime." |
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