Logs:New Now
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| RL Date: 5 December, 2015 |
| Who: Dahlia, Ka'ge, Taeliyth, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In the wake of new leadership, Dahlia and Ka'ge make other adjustments. |
| Where: Stores, Bowl, Dee's Touch of Pink Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 4, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, Mirinda/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated to four days after the leadership flight. |
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>---< Stores, Fort Weyr >----------------------------------------------------<
Fort's Stores are made up of a series of caverns of differing sizes that
hold the vast majority of the Weyr's perishable and non-perishable
supplies. Accessible from both the Kitchen and the Tunnel to the outside
of the Weyr, these Stores are split into two levels, with the lower levels
dug down deep along a sloping passageway where it's always chilly for
perishables and the upper level containing mostly dry goods.
Second-hand clothing and linens as well as cleaning supplies are kept in
open storerooms. Several 'junk' rooms are also left unlocked with a 'free
to take' policy on items that are not in good enough condition to
requisition but not broken enough to throw out. The rest of the caverns
are usually kept locked and require permission from the Headwoman or the
storeskeeper on duty for access.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Dahlia F 18 5'9" sturdy, dk. brown hair, hazel eyes 0s
Ka'ge M 17 6' toned, black hair, blue-green eyes 3m The days since Zaisavyth's flight have been busy. That's not much different than the days before her flight, except that since returning from Southern mid-morning the day after the flight, Dahlia and Mirinda have been seen hard at work. Together, and separately, their presence is a sharp contrast to the days before the flight with a grief stricken acting Weyrwoman and an ill junior. Dahlia's presence in the stores just now seems to be in passing (as so much of her work has had her be lately, always on the move), tucked around the side of one of the rows in one of the stores caverns speaking quietly to a stores assistant, occasionally jotting notes on her clipboard. "I don't have time for that. Can't you just find something similar, shitty quality, whatever-" Ka'ge is rounding the corner, his head tilted down examining the contents of a large napsack. His words must have been to one of the store's assistants, who's now made herself scarce following that response to not having what he wanted in stock. With one hand digging through the items already in his possession, it would appear as if he doesn't notice Dee. Maybe he hadn't, furrowed brows and all attempting to make quick work of this pit stop before he vanishes again. But within a couple feet of Dee, he stops abruptly, blue-green eyes following only after. There's a tense moment that he looks at her beyond the assistant she speaks with, before a fake half-grin carves the edge of his lips. He tips his head in a slanted bow, "Apologies, Weyrwoman." Said with a voice not entirely him. Dee must have seen him coming for she doesn't appear fazed when he speaks. In fact, she doesn't even look up to him as she says, "Come now, bronzerider, don't say things you don't mean. Thank you," those last two words are to the stores assistant who takes it as her cue to go and the weyrwoman steps toward Ka'ge, looking at him with an unreadable expression. "What is it you're looking for? I may be able to help." It might be a real offer even, but it's difficult to tell. Ka'ge moves slightly when she does, just forward enough to make the distance between them atypical for a normal conversation, with that feeling of lack of personal space. "I appreciate your concern, ma'am." His voice lowers, head remaining tilted the barest degree in a curious but bold posture. "But I'll be alright. I'm fairly used to going without, as you're aware. More practice every day." She blinks at his proximity. She doesn't eye back, but she does let her weight shift into her heels. It only creates the tiniest bit more distance between them but it's something. "I can see you're angling for going without for forever," Dee returns with the slightest arch of one brow, mildly challenging. "What do you need?" She reiterates the question, offering him a second chance. "Doesn't take much effort at all from my part." His dry response comes with a faint roll of his eyes, shielded mostly by the way he moves with it, stepping beside and beyond her. His shoulder would brush hers in that movement before he'd turn to examines the items on the shelves nearby. "More bags." Ka'ge answers finally, picking up some iron bauble- probably a weight for scrolls and hides- and rolling it around in his gloved palms. "Pouches, really. Different sizes." "No, next to none, I'm sure," Dee's expression is too sober, her eyes showing the sadness that nothing else about her face does. Her eyes follow him as he moves but she doesn't, not to avoid his shoulder, not to make progress toward wherever those items might be found. "For straps or for you?" "You don't need to do this." Ka'ge says finally as he puts the small flat-based ball back down, slowly and deliberately, staring at it even after it's relinquished. His sarcastic abrasiveness begins to wane at that. He doesn't do this well, whatever this is. "I'll be out of here soon." Quieter, more serious, more calm, "You look better." Less like death? Less angry? Surely this couldn't be the first time he's seen her since... "Are you?" "What I need to do is my business. As is what I want to do." Dee answers with a shrug. "I'm better but I'm not well," is succinctly said, as if she's said it before in recent times. "I might have what you need. If I do, you may borrow the pouches from me. I have some for straps and then there's my farmcrafting gear," the personal pouches she has for foraging in the jungle. She doesn't explain that, probably assuming he's gone through her things since they were brought after her unexpected betweening to Southern. "If that will do, you may walk with me. I'm heading to my weyr anyway." "Fair enough." The bronzerider gives, to one or both parts, still with his gaze averted from her. It's when she gives that offer that his blue-green eyes slant towards her, both curious and something else at something she'd said. "That would be exactly what I need but it's your-" Perhaps the reason he cuts himself off is due to the reasoning she'd just given him. Ka'ge nods instead, stepping back to be out of her way to lead them both as she offered, his expression carefully controlled. "-After you." He notes, pulling his hood by its peak to further cover his face as he recovers from the slow nod, and shrugging the bag he's already claimed over a shoulder. "I don't presently have time to indulge my--" there's a hiccup over the use of the term, "hobbies. I'd ask you try to return them in good condition," Dahlia says it simply as she curls her arms around her clipboard, hugging it to her chest as she leads the way. It's a few paces later that she asks, "Want to tell me where you're going or what you're up to?" Ka'ge walks behind her in easy synchronicity with her steps, a natural if intentional thing. His head his dipped slightly but his gaze remains particularly focused on her as she leads them. He hooks one thumb into the strap of the knapsack, silent following her first observations. Though when she asks the direct questions, he actually answers. Albeit in a flat, unassuming, perhaps even cautious voice, "Near Benden for lemongrass." "Not planning on breaching any quarantines and creating diplomatic crises?" There's a slight dryness to her tone, but surely it's a genuine question. Dahlia doesn't press for details, so there's that. She keeps per pace the natural brisk of her long legs, arms still hugged to her chest. Ka'ge 'hmphs' a laugh, shaking his head despite being out of sight as likely another direct answer to her next question. "Helping." He answers with that single word that sounds anything but enthusiastic, "I won't cause you any diplomatic heartache, I assure you." Though the edge to his response states clearly it's not by behaving that it will be so. "I'll return your items to you as though they'd never left your quarters." Although he speaks with obvious sarcasm, it somehow also carries a certain promise with it. "Good, the less I can deal with Benden in the short term, the better." Dee ducks her head a little as she murmurs this. It might not even be an admission she really thinks about making, perhaps too much in the habit of speaking freely to the bronzerider. She clears her throat in the wake of it and shakes her head a little offering him a wry but awkward, "Oh, I think things carried with you are forever changed, even if returns in good condition." The bronzerider reaches forwards with one hand but stops himself before he comes even close to reaching her, curling his fingers into a fist, his glove's worn leather creaking ever so softly with the tension he places in that grip. Ka'ge grits his teeth, dropping his gaze to the ground behind her heels as she walks. "Soiled?" He asks with dry humor, nigh mumbled in his response. Hazel eyes might miss the reach entirely, only turning on him for a look after the one word question. "No," is a predictable answer from Dee, given the look. "But if it makes it easier for you to pretend that's the right word--" one hand moves away from the clipboard to flick fingers into the air as if to indicate he can feel free, before it returns to its place, firmly curled around the edge of the clipbard. To Taeliyth, Zymadiath's shadows reach for the queen's brambles and wood, the night roused from whatever watch it'd been on, now looming on the horizon but never invasive enough to attempt to touch. His gritty low mind voice comes from deeper within, as if from far away although the bronze physically is within the Weyr. It's that feeling of hiding, of a cape of darkness covering truths, reasons, thoughts, as he sends his attempted request. There's a semblance of a face turned away, eyes averted, « He does not wish me to share, but Dahlia hurts him. I understand she hurts more than we may comprehend, but Ka'ge's is growing for which he may begin to act-- » Ka'ge stops following when she offers the gesture, green-blue eyes watching her instead of those fingers. "I couldn't have changed their ruling." He says abruptly. "I couldn't have switched places with him even if I wanted to." This, all this, coming from a very raw place, but with a cold, dangerous voice, his face dark and hidden beneath tipped hood. In conjunction, the night within Taeliyth's mind sways in its ghostly edges, a sigh of too late. The Wood is there, as it always is, roots sunk deeper than ever, but her attention is on something else, someone else. There's the briefest sense of growing anxiety that isn't hers but that she's finding it tedious if necessary to expend the effort to calm. It's not Dee's to be sure. At Zymadiath's bid for her attention to matters at hand with their riders, she splits her focus and listens but by the time anything might have been done, it's too late to do anyway. (To Zymadiath from Taeliyth) Dee stops at his word, turning around to face him as he speaks, her look perplexed then pained then perplexed again. There's a moment of silence in which the goldrider takes in Ka'ge's expression and a breath before she responds with deliberate calm, "I don't believe I suggested you should do, want to do, or could do either of those things." She might have followed it with his name, but why provoke him? And for as quickly as he'd come, the night slips away again as completely as the draconic consciousness may allow, requesting nothing further, taking up no more of the gold's attention. (To Taeliyth from Zymadiath) Ka'ge looks upwards, the bronze spiraling lower with the angry red of his eyes obvious and dramatic against the smokey mask of his face. "Aye, you didn't say a word. If you-" He rubs his eyes as his attention falls back down, releasing the tension that was there and dismissing the words he wanted to say, "I'll be away for awhile this time. Is there anything you- we-" He gestures vaguely, unenthusiastically to indicate the Weyr, "need?" Exasperated, the flare of whatever emotion he decided to share is now well-dulled in light of the subject change. The goldrider regards him silently for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "You might become someone's favorite if you checked with the healer on duty and the cook on duty before going out." Dee's eyes don't shift away from him as she asks, "How long is a while this time?" It's more than polite interest, but not so much more as to be described as something else. "Yeah, sure." Though that doesn't seem convinced to ask someone else. Ka'ge turns towards the bronze that lands a few dragonlengths from them, as if having forgotten about the bags altogether. He shrugs slightly in response to her question, the effort slow as if not entirely decided. He manages a small grin with a quiet answer, "Until requested back." "Ah," comes with a tightening of her lips in the natural line, the prelude to a frown that doesn't come. Dahlia's eyes go to the landing bronze briefly and her brow furrows. "The pouches?" She reminds questioningly. "It should only take a moment. I packed them up just last night," so she knows just where they are, you see. He hesitates in his turn, blue-green eyes looking towards the bronze, but returning to Dee after a delayed, prolonged moment. Ka'ge shifts his weight, a hand drifting up to gesture forwards in the general direction of her weyr in a 'go ahead' sort of motion. "Of course." Dahlia waits that moment, watching man and bronze with an intensity that's pretended to be less, and much closer to polite interest when Ka'ge looks back. The walk to her weyr is brisk and silent, if Ka'ge doesn't make noise. The ledge is clear but just inside are crates stacked and her reclaimed wood tied into bundles for transport. The mural she (and others) painted for Taeliyth is still on the wall, but the room and the inner weyr beyond, where she heads, is stripped down of all it's personal effects. Evidently, she's moving. "They're just in here," she offers as she crosses into the sleeping room, moving to put her clipboard on the bed, one of the few things still intact with its pink sheets and rainbow throw. Ka'ge remains silent as he follows the remainder of the distance, though a little closer this time- a step or two rather than multiple- behind her. The dark bronze in the background spends little time in the bowl, taking wing back into the skies above. "Chiv gave indication of change." Ka'ge says, quiet, with his head turned to observe the gathered items with faint amusement despite everything prior. "He wasn't kidding." It could be taken that he spends a little too long observing the crates that he steps past. He doesn't actually go into her sleeping room, lifting his gaze to look over the familiar mural that he'd never heeded long to before. "Is this a good change or...?" For some reason, that makes Dahlia's cheeks touch with a blush, but it might only barely be glimpsed before she's into the sleeping room. There's silence for some moments beyond the rummaging in what must be a crate within. She reappears with two belts strung with pouches of varying sizes over an arm. "Mirinda asked me to move to the junior's weyr off the weyrleaders' complex. It makes sense." There's a pause, then, "It's good, I think. I mean, she's working with me. Including me. She could've just ignored me, arranged to have me sent away," her expression tightens a little, but doesn't get all the way to a frown. Ka'ge waits, just beyond the doorway of the sleeping room. Although his arms were folded and not getting into anything while she was away, he's not alone when she's returned- the little brown winged spying culprit is suddenly present and scuttling about on the floor between her crates and other collected items more like a creepy bug than a firelizard. Kael looks up again when she returns, observing the the pouches with a subtle lightening of his features in an approving sort of way. "I doubt excluding you would have done her any favors. And there may have been some... unrest in the wake of you being sent away." While his tone is rather flat, guarded, there's little question it was meant to hold some hint of humor. Dahlia probably wasn't expecting him to be quite so near the doorway and she stops short in it, hazel gaze suddenly disarmed. Her cheeks flush and the color travels lightly down her throat and into what can be seen of her chest above the sweetheart neckline of her blouse. She's silent and staring at him for a moment and then clearing her throat and looking away, eyes settling on Chiv as a safe place she says in a dull tone, "It could be a lot worse. At least Mirinda seems to have what's best for Fort in mind." Ka'ge's eyes flick briefly to her face and he reaches up as if to touch her cheek. The clearly intentional, suggestive motion falls short to touch the blouse of her shoulder to relieve her of the pouches if she allows. All of this while Chiv manages to crawl into one of the crates with various fabrics being upturned and rumbled in the process of his invasion. "It's early yet." He offers as his opinion, enriched with understatements that continue, "But given everything else," A huff of a laugh escapes him, "Sure, it could be a lot worse. And Taeliyth? Zymadiath alluded to her disapproval." "Chiv!" is exasperated and nearly cut-off as Dee's eyes jerk back to Ka'ge at the touch to her shoulder, something that makes her blush worse. The pouches are given over easily. "There are a couple of larger ones," she offers, "did you need those?" She distracts herself with the question before shaking her head. It's an answer to Taeliyth's feelings. "She hasn't introduced herself to Zaisavyth yet. Won't. I think it's probably better that there's some time and distance before--" she finally has to. She will have to, eventually. One green-whirled eye peers out from between two separated slats of the crate at the call of his name, an amused chittering, and then a re-disappearance into the midst of her packed items. Ka'ge doesn't seem to notice those antics, more focused on Dee. Taking those pouches isn't a quick affair, more sliding them off of her shoulder than just heaving them as he could have done. But eventually they're slung over his own shoulder in an easy motion, the buckles clinking quietly. "Whatever you can spare. The fewer trips, the safer, as I've been told many times." Is the given reason, though the real one? "Perhaps, though I hope she doesn't wait too long. He would help her if he could." In their brands of helping, of course. It's not often that Dahlia's green, Crin, makes an appearance, but she does so now, swiftly moving to Chiv's chosen spot to scold like the little old auntie Crin so often imitates. She's not above dragging him out by his headknob if she has to and surely Chiv's learned that painful lesson before, if he remembers. "It's..." Dee starts, wincing, even as she says, "harder because Vhaeryth is-- she--" The flush deepens. Does Ka'ge understand the implication without Dahlia having to say it? It's nice that she can turn and flee into the bedroom on legitimate pretense of collecting the larger collection bags and have time to compose herself before returning with them. Chiv's chittering grows harsher, more teenage-like than anything at the sudden arrival of the scolding, familiar green. He must remember something if not particulars given how he tries to go deeper into the crate and away from Crin. Likely to no avail if she does drag him out. Dejectedly, he'd scurry off in the aftermath to tuck himself behind some other crates- not inside of them. Ka'ge cants his head just slightly to one side, in a semblance of understanding as she trails off, and when she turns to go back into the room, he follows her this time. Passing into the sleeping quarters with careful gaze on her back while she collects the other bags. He'd even reach to touch her back as she collects them, pausing about an inch away from doing so, and staying where she could likely back right into him. "Doesn't it help to have someone to share the pressure?" Crin only plays for keeps. Out. Now. And good riddance. She takes up a perch on the edge of the crate: pity the brown who tries to return. Dahlia is observant, but she's also distracted now and given Ka'ge being Ka'ge, she backs into his hand as she startles from the sound of his voice so near. The twist 'round to face him is inelegant, but at least she doesn't trip on her own feet. The blush is deep now, for more reasons than can probably be remembered by now. "It might. I've only just met her. Hattie's only just gone." Not that many days ago. "Shards, I've only just got out of the infirmary." Not even a couple days before that. "I'm still just trying to remember how to keep my feet under me and how not to work to the point where I faint and scare the staff." Ka'ge leaves his hand on her side for a thoughtful moment. Instead of lingering or pushing her further, he takes a slight step back, giving her that space. The hand is left out, no longer touching her, as a reminder for the bags in spite of it all. "Take your time." Dee, and Taeliyth, in all the things. Ka'ge gives a lopsided, unhurried shrug, his free hand re-settling the pouches already over his shoulder. "You beat death. It can only get easier from here." Not challenge-less, but it's certainly something. It takes time, certainly, for Dee to recover. In truth, she looks overwhelmed. She closes her eyes for one long moment and then drawing slow breath opens them and moves to hand him the bags. "You're welcome to look in there for anything else you might find useful," she gestures to the open crate the satchels all came from. "I need to lie down before I fall down," is at once recognition and admission of her own weakness, that she's better but not well. Chances are good that lying down was why she was coming to her weyr to begin with. She starts to move past him, only to stop long enough to grip his wrist firmly and demand his gaze, "Be careful," she intones in quiet command. 'Come back safely,' is the unspoken meaning. "This should do it. I have a few already." Ka'ge recedes further, though he takes time to turn away, his gaze lingering on her. Maybe it's to notice the tired, maybe it's associated with the faint grin that strays onto his expression and then falls away. As she moves past him, he begins to step away to leave without further words. But, the grab of his wrist most certainly grants the attention she desires. He looks down, stilled, patient. Her command receives a small shake of his head, "Aren't I always?" Although his words are playful, his expression a bit more grave. "I don't know," is quiet admission. It's probably not meant to be hurtful. It's just the truth. Dee doesn't know. He doesn't even tell her. She lets go without another word, moving toward her bed and the sinfully soft sheets there, that are, for all their pinkness, solace and respite for the exhaustion that never seems to really leave her. |
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