Logs:Wild Women Weyr
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| RL Date: 29 March, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Laine, Schuyler, Edyis |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: There's an impromptu meeting in the stores. On the agenda: search, life, drinks, and wild women. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 5, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Itsy/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Z'riah/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions |
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| It's late in the morning--sometime after breakfast but before most are really obligated to show up for duties. The slanting, driving rain and wind out in the bowl does not make for pleasant weather, but there's proof on the storeroom flagstone that someone braved the deluge: muddy bootprints wander through the storage caverns, aimless. If one were to follow those tracks, they would, eventually, find Laine--mug of klah in hand, she's standing in front of a shelf heaped with quilts, but her expression so distant and blank that she may as well be staring straight into space. A laundress' duties are never done until every scrap of cloth and shredded towel is properly set into its place! That must be why Farideh trudges into the stores, holding a basket heaped in clean laundry in her hands, though she looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. She moves with slow, grudging steps, and frowns at the floor just in front of her basket - since, she can't see over its mound of clothing. All of those towels, and linens, must be put away somewhere near the quilts, so it's not surprising when Farideh pauses a few feet away from Laine and frowns her disapproval. "Don't spill that on any of them, or I'll have your fingers for it," the other candidate warns, and drops her basket, which makes a loud thump sound as it hits the floor, stirring up dust. Laine doesn't seem to realize there's another soul nearby until well after Farideh's spoken; the hand holding the klah turns first, then the tanner's shoulders, then absent grey eyes last turn away, reluctant, from staring at... nothing, apparently. Recognition comes in a slow, squeezed blink, and Laine drowsily knuckles at her eyes with her free hand. She drinks from her mug. "Oh. Yeah. Extra work for you, huh? Almost done." She sloshes the dregs as proof, watching the other candidate. The sound of dismay the sloshing produces of the laundress is genuine. "Watch that--" Farideh exhales loudly and gives Laine a narrow-eyed look. "What are you even doing in here? Did you get lost? It's not the craft complex." One more dubious glance and she's bending down to shake out a pillowcase. The last of the klah is swallowed; Laine gazes placidly at Farideh across the rim of her mug as she drinks. There, it's empty. She even resists the urge to set the mug on the shelf, letting it dangle instead by the handle from one finger. "The blankets in the candidate's quarters suck," the tanner says distractedly, by way of explanation, jerking her chin at the thick comforters and quilts on the shelf. "These are all ugly, though." "I noticed," Farideh tries not to sound smug, "that you moved in. What happened?" She starts re-folding the pillowcase with feigned precision, but tilts her head towards the quilts, eyes scanning them. "Do you need a pretty quilt? I'm sure you could trade your skills for someone else's, or--" Her nose wrinkles. "Quilting takes time. You could trade something you have for a prettier quilt someone else has. It's just a blanket, after all." Sucking on her teeth, Laine grunts something vague and under her breath about being alone, avoiding looking at Farideh. She runs her hand down the stack of blankets, instead. "Nah," she decides, with a conceding nod. "Don't need one. Wanted one, though. Just a blanket." Says, to the shelf, "Need help folding?" It's almost hopeful. As if Laine doesn't have anything better to do. "You could learn to make your own. I think I heard, in the laundry, that there's a healer in the Weyr who makes pretty quilts. Maybe she'll teach you?" It's a genuine suggestion, paired with a thoughtful glance at the apprentice-candidate. Farideh looks down, then, at her basket, and back up at Laine, as if considering her choices. "Do you know how? To fold? Well?" "The time it'd take me to make one, I'd be well out of the candidate barracks. Should've just brought my blanket from the apprentice dorms." But Laine sounds appreciative enough for the suggestions, tilting her head as she considers them, moving closer to Farideh and her laundry and reaching for a pillowcase. "I know how to fold," Laine says, with a tone that suggests she's surprised there's a right and a wrong way of doing it. But: "I've tried to fold a sheet by myself before. It's not easy." "I can borrow one for you? If you really need one that badly," the laundress sighs, putting the corners together and flipping the pillowcase over. "You can't drink klah on it though, or mess it up, because we have to return it after, you understand." It's not explicit what Farideh's proposing, but if Laine can read through the lines, she's offering a blanket from the laundry that belongs to someone else; for an indeterminable amount of time. "Sheets are hard. Anything square is easy. Pressing is the worst--" Again, with the nose wrinkling. "Don't," Laine repeats with a curt exhale, putting down her empty mug, "need one. I just want--shells, okay. Why not. Borrow one for me," and, although Laine doesn't physically do air quotes, the emphasis is there as she flips her own pillowcase, bringing the corners together and smoothing it, "and I promise not to do anything untoward with it. Or on it." (But she'll make no promises about under it, apparently.) "But a nice one. Not too flashy." The corners of Farideh's mouth twitch, almost into a smile. "I'll find you a nice one, and I hope--" Her eyebrows hike up. "You don't do anything on it. That's just-- disgusting. With everyone else around? Can't you find a closet to do that in?" Because closets are obviously her choice of rendezvous. "Not flashy, but nice. You aren't demanding or anything," she says sardonically, pursing lips at the apprentice, even as she bend to grapple for a towel in her basket. "Who Searched you, anyway? Or did you ask?" Laine's dead-pan cracks, hinting at a lopsided smile. She even laughs, a low chuckle. "A closet? Drex treats you that good, huh?" That pillowcase gets folded in two and Laine flattens it, smoothing her hand along it, then places it away. "It'll come back to you in the same condition. Unsullied." She meets Farideh's expression of disapproval with a faint curve of her lips, and she plucks a handtowel from the basket. "Z'riah, actually. Though I never saw his green. He made me kiss him," Laine recalls with a narrowing of her eyes. "Where else are we supposed to get alone time? It's not like I have a private room or that there's anywhere to go otherwise." Now, that she's thinking about it, Farideh starts folding that towel a little angrily; that poor towel never did anything to her! She flicks a disconcerted look to the other girl and sighs, in a drawn out way. "Fine." More than that though, she is surprised when Laine gives up the condition of her search. "Really? Z'riah? Did you like it, at least?" Inquiring minds needs know. "Guest weyr? Blanket on the grass?" Laine ticks off the suggestions as she grabs another towel, using her chin to hold it against her as she brings it together. "Hell, come down here and build a nest out of blankets. There's options," the tanner says knowingly, "That don't include broom handles poking you in the bum. Get Drex to step up his game." There's a sudden, sharp laugh for Farideh's last question. "Just on the cheek. What about you? Ask, or be asked?" "Have you noticed how many flights there's been lately? I'd be afraid to go in there and then-you know--" Telltale flush creeps into the girl's cheeks, even as she's setting aside her towel and reaching for something else to fold. "It doesn't matter. I told him to leave me alone, anyway. If I Impress, it's not like I'll have time for anything else." Farideh says it like she's talking about the weather, and her features are cool, so cool. She sighs a little and slants Laine look from the side. "I asked. I didn't want to wait for some dragon to. I want to Stand, so I will." It sounds simple in her telling. "And--hm. Get caught up?" Judging by the pull at Laine's mouth and lift of her brows, that's something she never considered. The two candidates are standing by the blankets and quilts, folding linens out of a basket, chatting. When the laundress-candidate speaks next, the tanner's hands pause and she scans Farideh's face, thoughful, not unsympathetic. But Laine only says, "Yeah? Makes sense." Whether that's for Drex, for standing, for impression, (or for all three) isn't clear. "You're brave," Laine says, and it's without a trace of irony or jest. "Brave? How do you mean?" They are definitely standing by the shelves, folding and chatting, with Farideh's hands occupied by a large towel that she doubles in half as she speaks. Her dubious gaze lifts to Laine, her own eyebrows lifting in accompaniment to her question. The dirty hands of the kitchen waits for noone and Sky is hunting down some kitchen towels from the stores when he spots the two girls folding. "Hey there!" he greets, coming up to them, setting down his basket nearby. "You guys get stuck on laundry duty?" he asks peering at the piles. Laine's gaze flicks up to the ceiling as she tries to gather her words. "I get the feeling--lots of people don't ask to stand. If a dragon chooses you, sure. But it's, like--riskier, somehow. Asking to stand. Lots of," the tanner mimes crushing something in the air with her hands, "Ego. All wrapped up in it. So it's brave to ask." When Sky approaches, Laine gestures towards him with a flick of a towel, says, (as though he can't hear them,) "Sky won't stand, he said, 'less asked." Then she answers: "I'm just doing it for fun." The folding. Which she's not doing, presently. "I don't know that it's braver or riskier. I still have the same chances at Impressing as anyone else. Maybe less, since a dragon didn't get that feeling about me, or whatever they do to pick someone. I just-- wanted a chance. I'm not going to let someone else make the decisions for me anymore, is all," Farideh explains at some length. She glances up when Schuyler greets them, and nods her own greeting to the baker. "I've always done laundry." Her eyes shift from Schuyler, to Laine, and back again. "You won't? Why?" Schuyler snags a couple towels from the pile and tosses them into his basket. "I just figure that I've lived around dragons my whole life. If someone thought I should stand they would have said something by now. And I like baking....so I'm happy in the kitchens." he pauses and cocks his head, "Not that I wouldn't stand if asked though." he adds quickly. Tossing the unfolded handtowel she has into Schuyler's basket, Laine lifts her brows, listening to Farideh with a tilted head. "Here, people talk a lot about doing what you love, following your dreams, yadda yadda," she answers slowly. "Making that choice takes courage." The candidate shrugs. It's a statement of fact, for her. Case in point: Sky. "See? Doing what he loves. Won't even give it up for a chance at a dragon. Apparently that's a thing," says the Worst Apprentice Ever(tm). "I wouldn't say Impressing is my dream. My dream would be travelling around Pern, going on adventures, just being-- me, and free," which sounds an awfully like being a sailor, on a ship; derp. Laine and Farideh are folding linen things from the latter's basket, and all three are talking about Standing, whether it be by dragons, asking, or being asked. "Good for you, Sky. If you're good at something and you like it, and it's what you want, then you shouldn't give it up. But I don't want to be washing other people's clothes forever and ever." Schuyler shrugs. "It's no big deal. Like I said. I'd like the chance to stand, I think it would be cool. But there's no need to put myself out there when I like what I'm doing already." He grabs another towel and tosses it into his basket. "It's just that I've been here for so long you'd think someone would have searched me by now if there was a chance of me impressing." he shrugs again. Edyis slipped in some time ago, but the one-time scribe was quiet, listening curiously to the conversation at hand. She peers down the aisle at the last pulling the shoulder strap on her satchel so that it is more comfortable. "Riding doesn't make you free though." Edyis offers quietly slinking out of the shadows. "I can't say I blame you with the laundry, I love the lounge and the records room when they let me in, but forever is an awful long time. And you..." She points her finger at Sky, "If you want something, you shouldn't be afraid to take a chance at it." For Laine: "Hi." "Nothing makes you free," there's an edge to Laine's voice, and when she snaps a pillowcase out of Farideh's basket, it's with a sharp, frustrated sigh. "But being a rider in an interval seems like the closest damned thing to it." She bites back something more, drops the folded towel in its place, and scrubs her face with her hands. When she peeks through her fingers, she's looking at Sky. "Good for you. You know what you want, and you're sticking to it. Don't let anyone bully you into doing otherwise." When the former scribe speaks out of seemingly nowhere, Farideh startles visibly, and whirls around to face the other girl. She puts a hand to her chest and squints at Edyis. "How long have you been there?" Her voice is a bit high-pitched, but evens when she says, through a frown, "I never said it was. It's not like I have the means or skill set to just go wherever I please, but a dragon can take you, even if it's with a price." She sets another folded towel on top of her ever-growing stack, and reaches for a flat sheet. "You okay?" she asks, peering up at Laine, with her fingers in the basket; still, when she stands, she's studying the other candidate and her through-finger peeking. Schuyler smirks in Edyis's direction. "No one is making me do anything I don't want to. And no one is talking me into, or out of, anything. You never know, there's still over a month before the eggs hatch. Anything can happen, right?" he grins and grabs a piece of fabric from the bin, helping to fold while he's standing there. Both brows lift at the outburst, both Laine and Farideh's, the tanned woman scrubbing at her neck. "I only meant that, you shouldn't let a lack of skill stop you. You can learn skills, if you want to." But at Laine? She's even more sheepish. "Yeah, are you?" Ok? Sky? He gets a smirk. Laine's folding, folding, while the others are talking, building a neat stack of towels at her feet. Her cheeks flush hot and pink, more from embarrassment, likely, than anger, but her corners of her mouth twist downward. "We got the luxury of bellyaching over, oh, no, maybe I'll have to have a dragon for the rest of my life, live comfortably in a weyr, fly around anywhere I want, oh that's soooo hard." Her jaw works, almost imperceptibly. "While everyone else--" She clams up, that bloom of pink creeping across her nose, deepening in her cheeks. She mumbles, "Nevermind." "Anything can happen," Farideh confirms, optimistically, to Schuyler, flicking her wrists and giving the flat sheet a straightening, before folding out the corners. "You can learn the skills or have the skills, but--" Then, in comes Laine with the hard truth, and her lips press unpleasantly. "Life isn't fair, right? Some people have it better than others, and some people can do what they want. Others don't get that chance. We should consider ourselves lucky, then, that we've had this chance, right? Brave or not, Standing or not, we're protected by-- the Weyr." The place so many have strong opinions about, the place many look down on; their home. "We have options, food in our bellies, and the ability to bellyache about flying or not. We even get to stand here and complain over laundry," is a bit wry, as she sets the sheet aside. Schuyler nods in Faridehs's direction. "There, I think she has it right." he comments. There's a shrug in regards to the rest of the conversation. "I think people need to just choose to be happy with what they have. I know plenty of people who think working in the kitchens is a chore, but I love it. I'm sure there's someone out there who loves folding laundry." ok, maybe not... Edyis's dark eyes just rest on the Tanner. Even as Farideh echoes that one inescapable truth, "Life will never be fair. Even the weyr's protection, it only goes so far. And truth be known, the weyr won't always step up when you think they should. They look after their own, but that is all." Scuffing her boot against the ground, "All I meant was, dragon or no if you want something more... don't be afraid to chase it. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful." She offers by way of apology. "Lucky us," Laine echoes, quietly, dryly. But she's been nodding, pensive and sober, and when Edyis offers her apology, the tanner's head comes up--she gazes over at the other girl, then shakes her head once. "Don't. You didn't sound ungrateful. I'm just--feeling sullen. Being a total buzzkill. Should chase your dreams. Pursuit of happiness, all that. We'll all impress golds and we'll establish our own weyr where we can just be naked and drunk all the time." She doesn't sound bitter, just... unconvinced. Only Schuyler's got the right attitude! Farideh bestows a bright smile on him, before switching to a more solemn face when she looks from Edyis to Laine; the latter gets a longer, scrutinizing stare. "Are you re-thinking it? Or, are you scared you won't? Just because something else comes of it, doesn't mean you have to go back to apprenticing, if you don't want to. We can run off to the Southern jungle, tame feral felines, and swing from those vine things in the trees. Wild women of the Southern continent, has a nice ring to it." She rains dutifully somber-faced, but turns to address the remaining towels in her basket. Schuyler laughs at Laine and Edyis. "When you do that I'm joining your weyr!" he grins. Farideh gets a wink and he snatches another item that needs to be folded. "C'mon guys, it's not that big of a thing. People will impress the dragons on the sands, you or someone else, and life will move forward. Stop sweating the small stuff, you'll give yourselves wrinkles. Like these sheets." he coments as he tries to smooth out the one he's folding. Edyis lifts a brow to that. "You've been that way for a while. Still don't feel up to talking about it? I can liberate some booze." She smirks. "Speak for yourself, gold is about the last thing I'd want to impress. Talk about no freedom, Farideh can impress a gold and be the weyrwoman, you can impress a brown and be weyrleader, and I'll be the upstart bluerider always causing trouble." She grins at Schuyler, "We'll just kidnap Sky and let him cook. I'm sure he wouldn't mind being surrounded by all the lovely ladies." "Not scared," Laine grumbles at Farideh's back, tossing another folded towel on an increasingly crooked pile. "I'm pissed." Despite her words, the tanner seems to have been mollified somewhat, although Sky receives a long and--for Laine--especially severe look. "Deal. Wild women. Dragons or no. With Sky for food." There's a sudden, feral grin. "If you've got the booze, Edyis, I've got the feelings." The waitress' scenario doesn't sit well with Farideh, if the face she makes is any indication of her inner thoughts. "No, Laine can be the Weyrwoman, and I'll be the Weyrleader, but that means we have to sleep together," and cue awkward, overly-kitschy wink from one candidate to another. All of that relationship talk is water under the bridge, baby. "Wild women it is." She sighs lustily and glances between the two other girls, even to Schuyler. "I need a drink, too. After all of this talk of search, and sex, and life, and--" She rolls her eyes. Schuyler smirks at Edyis. "Kidnap away ladies." he winks, though Farideh gets a smile too. "Nothing says that for sure. I'm happy to help fill any of those empty beds." he teases. Edyis tilts her head, with a grin. "I will buy the drinks if we want to go to the snowasis... and Sky wants to provide the snacks." "If you want your accounting and administration all shot to hell, sure, I'll ride gold for Wild Women Weyr," Laine rolls her eyes, bending to scoop up an armload of towels and file them away on the shelf. She glances back over one shoulder and looks Sky up and down, then chuckles, murmuring, "Sorry, buddy. Not buying what you're selling," as she passes him by. Once the towels are neatly stacked, she brushes off her hands, retrieves an empty mug from the floor, and looks expectant. "Drinks?" Schuyler smirks. "Well, you can stop by the kitchens for the snacks, but I need to be getting back." he grabs his backset and heads back to the kitchens. "You can hire someone for that. You just make sure there's more eggs and people to fill Wild Women Weyr." And the standards speak for themselves -- wild, women, only. Farideh puts up the last piece and holds her basket under one arm. She tries not to laugh when Laine gives Schuyler the getgone, but a smile follows the baker out. "Drinks," she confirms, moving to try and link her arm through Laine's, so they can walk arm-in-arm to the Snowasis. Edyis grins, as she watches the baker go. "Gotta admit though, he really does bake a mean dessert." Falling in step behind the others to head for the snowasis. Edyis doesn't take long, table claimed, drinks ordered as promised, everything seems set for an afternoon of drinking, two pitchers of cider and a bottle of rum might seem like a lot, but maybe someone's compensating? Arm-in-arm, they make their way to the Snowasis, walking along and chatting of innocuous things, until they've made it to the table. It's there that the once laundress unloops her arm from Laine's and sighs. "That's a lot," Farideh says, dismayed. "We aren't supposed to get drunk. What if-- what if Giorda finds out and--" She frets, standing next to the table, with a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed. Her gaze moves from candidate to candidate, awaiting their reactions, or a chance to have her better judgement be overridden by recklessness; not that it needs much of a push. "Giorda, Schmiorda." Laine's hopping onto a stool and tucking herself up against the table, already reaching to pour a glass of cider. "Good choices," she says approvingly to Edyis. Tipping her head back to meet Farideh's eyes, the tanner proposes, "We get in trouble, I'll say it's all mine. Keep your nose clean. You've clearly got more potential." Laine beckons. Edyis grins at the tanner, "You've seen her drink right? This is just proper preparation. Besides, you never know who might show up at random." She's learning to be prepared this one. Booze mooches be warned. "So long as you don't go running around the weyr naked, or shirk your duties, who the hell would know anyway?" "Would you say that to Giorda's face, though?" Farideh wants to know, tipping her head saucily towards Laine, whilst pulling out her chair and sitting down with her usual primness. "I don't know. I always feel as though people are watching, now. Before we were just-- an apprentice, a laundress, and a waitress, but one of us, or all, or none, of us might be a rider next, and that makes people interested where they wouldn't be before." She glances all around as she says it; slightly paranoid? "Thank you, Laine," she says, with a grin. Laine's laces her fingers around her cold glass, and takes a long draw of the golden cider. She wipes her mouth on her shoulder, then smacks her lips. "I'd probably not say it, but it would depends on how many of these I've had," she concedes. She does nod, once, twice, while Edyis speaks, but tips her head for Farideh's point, too. "Hard to say. I feel more noticed now, but that's only 'cause no one noticed me, before." Before the knot. Edyis rolls her shoulders. "I will worry about what others see in me, if I impress, until then, life goes on." She sing-songs, lifting her mug. "Didn't think you'd be the kind of girl to be a rules lawyer though Farideh." Surprise is tinting Edyis's voice, "Hey I noticed you." She quips back to the Tanner with a wry smile. "Of course it was kind of difficult not to." Since everyone's doing it, that last glass is filled with cider and Farideh takes a tentative sip. "I'm not, but I don't want to ruin my chances of Standing, either. Normally, it wouldn't matter, but I really-- want this, you know?" She studies Edyis for a moment, and then takes another lingering drink from her glass. "They're probably making bets on us. Who Impresses, who won't. Who gets what. Who gets chased down and attacked by a dragon on the sands," wrinkling her nose. Laine glances at Edyis with a bright look, and turns her body to face Farideh, reaching her hands across the table to the laundress. She says, mock-sternly, "I need you to repeat after me: I will not get mauled. I will not get mauled. It's our mantra." Our seems to be the table, now, encompassed by a broad gesture of Laine's cider as she reclaims her cup. But: "Ugh. They probably are betting on us. I hate that." She sniffs, but says to Edyis, as an aside, "You're only saying that because I drink all your booze." Edyis chuckles darkly at that, "I do have bets placed and at good odds. So don't let me down." Lifting her mug and taking a long pull of it's contents. "I wouldn't have guessed that either, considering how often you railed against riders when you first got here. What brought on the change?" Studying the laundress through dark lashes, at the mantra she laughs. "Yes, I remember, and if I minded I wouldn't offer you booze Laine." She teases. The mock-sternness is returned with somberness. "I will not get mauled. Are you sure about that? Can you confirm? I don't think dragons wander around trying to attack candidates, but what if one is particularly-- I heard Weyrwoman Azaylia's dragon cut her open before she Impressed." Farideh looks to Edyis for confirmation, and then her focus stays, her brow twitching with consternation. "Who did you bet on?" She's curious, but also: "Time? Life? That was two turns ago, Edyis. A lot has changed since then. I wouldn't pick myself as liking Weyrlife, much less having feelings for a sailor." Eyes are rolled. "You're the they that's betting on us?" Laine inhales sharply, looking at Edyis as though with fresh eyes over her cup as she drinks. "I think it's only fair you tell us who you bet on," she says with pursed lips. She considers Farideh then, cringing somewhat for her account, and shrugs helplessly. "Just make sure you're wearing good running shoes, day of." As for mention of that sailor? Laine wrinkles her nose. "Whatever happened to his pretty friend? Is Itsy still around?" "It's a mantra; Laine says we should do this positive thinking thing." Of Azaylia, there's a grimace. "Yeah, Hraedhyth did." Maul her own rider. On betting the former scribe merely sniffs, "Now that would be valuable information wouldn't it?" She lifts a brow at the mention of the sailors, curious. The confirmation is all it takes for Farideh to shoot Laine a see, look what happened look. "It's entirely possible, then." She makes an unhappy sound and takes a long, thirsty drink, at the end of which she winces and shakes her head, as if to clear it of unsavory thoughts. "Not really. It's not like we're betting. Come on, share." Her elbows comes down on the table top and her chin sits in her palm; her usual, favorite sitting position. "Hm?" Amused verdigris eyes shift to Laine, her face only turning slightly. "Itsy? I guess. I haven't seen her in sevendays, but he wouldn't stay behind if she left, so I presume that she's still around. You never had a second date?" Laine bites her lip, gaze flicking between her two candidate companions. "Guess that's the risk we take," she says, lightly, "And why we do the mantra." I will not get mauled. Grey eyes narrow further, and, although Laine appears more curious than indignant, she insists, "Yeah. Seriously, Edyis. That's not fair." Allowing her urging to hang for a beat longer, Laine does eventually respond to Farideh with a regretful wag of her head. "Guess we just keep missing each other. She was cute, though, so you see her, you tell him I'm still interested." Edyis merely smiles at the other two girls, but mention of a date and the sailing pair draw her interest. "Ah, is the feelings an Itsy thing then?" Lifting her glass and perhaps not so subtly avoiding the gambling topic. Farideh lets Laine take the lead on hassling Edyis about her bets, and sips more on her cider; that redness in her cheeks is totally because of the hearth in the Snowasis, not because of any buzz, psh. "Feelings? I had hoped Itsy and Laine would suit, but my feelings are for Drex. I thought you knew that," her brow flickering down. "Not that it matters. None of it matters now. We shouldn't be thinking of that, we should be planning our Wild Women Weyr." Her fingers surround her chin and her eyes narrow, her expression clearly that of someone musing. Laine drinks, long, and maybe looks a little sullen when Edyis doesn't immediate cough up her bets. She's got a foamy moustache when she replaces her cider on the table, and Laine steeples her fingers over her glass. "Ugh. Are we still on this feelings thing?" She sucks that foam off her upper lip, avoiding eye contact with Edyis. "I'd much rather plan our nude, Amazonian women-only vine-swinging retreat--" It's then that Laine notices a sour-looking bluerider: he's on his way over to the table from the dart board, and not looking pleased. "Speaking of bets," Laine says, slithering down from her chair. Apparently these ones are unpaid: the tanner, with a flashed parting smile, disappears out the side door in a hurry. "I am... on the fence, more data needed," Edyis states concerning men in an Amazonian paradise. "You did say you needed ample booze to discuss it." But debt collectors cause havoc with that. "I never think of that, or if I do I remember immediately all the ways in which it is a terrible idea." Sulky much? "What's needed? We would make it up. It's our paradise, right? Parties every day, lots of swimming and sunbathing, wine and delicious foods--" Farideh's expression takes a turn for the dreamy, but she spares Laine a thoughtful glance when she gets up and disappears. "I feel hot. Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?" She starts to fan her face, which is just a little redder than before, and blows out an annoyed breath. "You really won't share your bets?" she asks, at last. Edyis she sighs, "It's still too early to give them all away, though I will divulge betting on you and Laine to impress. Me not to. But there's still more to be searched between now and then, and I bet that the first to hatch would be brown, first to impress a green. Though I kinda hedged my bets and bet on gold too. "Really? A brown first?" Farideh's likely never thought about it before. "I'm not the betting sort, but I thought bronzes were supposed to be good luck, first." She shrugs and finishes what's left in her glass. "I'm sure whoever Impresses the gold will be someone with no good sense and a lot of dumb opinions," she announces, and then pushes her chair back. "I should go. Before I drink anymore. I really don't want to test Giorda. I have-- in the past." Which is cryptic, since she waves at Edyis and heads out immediately after. Edyis dark eyes flicker with amusement but before she gets a chance to say anything Farideh is heading off. She laughs as she watches the laundress head off, "Yeah, you are probably right about gold." |
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