Logs:Gussied Up and Nowhere to Go
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 18 September, 2015 |
| Who: Telavi, Keysi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Nabol Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Costumes and stories are crafted to follow a lead to Nabol after the Greenfields event, |
| Where: On the road, Somewhere near Nabol |
| When: Day 18, Month 11, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Bristia/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Very backdated! |
  |
| They may have had to delay tracking due to the rains, but two days into sunshine, the road's not bad and Telavi's mood has certainly lifted; Solith's already buzzed off out of sight, but the greenrider's cheerful as can be at the appointed time to meet, bustling about the... appropriated... huntsmen's shack as though she owns it. "Come on in," she greets Keysi. "Ready for your makeover?" Yes, that is a dimple she's sporting. There's a valise by the far wall, too. Since getting back to the Weyr, Keysi had spent most of the interim with Neianth. So the fact that the small brown lingers nearby until his rider is at the door of the shack probably isn't surprising. As she places a hand with a whisp of hesitancy on the door frame of the shack, he turns and takes again to the skies. The hand raised to knock pauses before it does at Telavi's greeting and she steps inside. "Why is this necessary?" is an unnecessary question; time-wasting since it allows her to stop just inside the little shack. "Can't I just go as this? They shouldn't recognize.." A fraction of a turn-up of a palm is meant to indicate 'herself' but she trails off as observations find the valise and curiosity curtails words. "That's not in character. That is..." Telavi waves at Keysi: see? Trous! Which won't do! A swish of skirts accompanies Tela moving around the brownrider to bar the door behind them both; at least there are glows, to make up for how the small windows are shuttered. It's not a large place, but it is cleaner than it ought to be, and a freshly-used rag on a stool may show why. "I have a dress for you, too. And different boots, and things for your hair... Have you been working on your accents? Show me while you get changed." Said dress is already hanging from a peg, the boots beneath: much like Telavi's, designed sturdily for a simple holder woman to be able to walk distances in them. The slits to make knives more readily accessible might be a little more unusual, however. And while Tela's at it, one more question: "What do you know of the woman you're traveling as?" "There are plenty of characters who where pants." Is really Keysi's only protest- so far- as Telavi bars the door. Voice is level, plain, hard to differentiate if it's supposed to be dry humor or a real disagreement. Appropriate steps to move out of her way in path for that door bring her a foot or so into the smallish shack. The request for an on-the-spot demonstration of her learnings shouldn't catch her by surprise but it takes her a moment. When she does speak, it's something that should be regionally Southern, but manages to lapse partially with a Tillek flare. Ie. It's not the best, but she's working on it? "I'm related to you." Manages to get its own flicker of a grin, though when she realizes how off her accent is, she seems to fall into a silence of personal-internalized reprimand as she lifts the dress from the peg. "I could be the sister who wants to go into beastcraft.." More a mumble as she looks it over. Telavi's sniff is her only reply about pants. As for the accent, "I was hoping for more Cromese," she says in that sort of voice, "like your traders, but if you play with your vowels like this," she exaggerates, "that will help." For the dress, reverting back to more normal Cromese, "You could have wanted beastcraft, how's that? But of course it 'isn't very womanly,' is it. I doubt it will come up but at least you'll know. And you shouldn't have to say much. Be glad we're not so upper-class that we're all cinched in, with or without a corset," and there's mischief right there as she gestures for Keysi to change. For all her complaints, she won't waste too much time by poising her intense stare on the garment as if looking at it in such a way would make it change. "Womanly." Keysi echoes as she works the dress on with the modesty of a Holder and the efficiency of a trader; in a moment the tunic hits the floor and as the bottom of the dress meets her feet, she's shuffling out of the trousers too. "It sounds like," The brownrider tries again, this time in Cromese that really isn't that bad. Not great, but not as horrendous as the Southern attempt was, "You have this all planned out already." It's accusatory without much attempt to hide it. She pauses as she pulls at the dress to get it fitted to herself, "..Aye, I suppose that's something." She gives the exaggeration, but overplays it via distaste for the concept of a corset. Tela all but squeaks, swooping to try and rescue the tunic as though-- at least from her perspective!-- the floor just isn't that clean. She'll reach for the trous too if she can get them, her focus far more on the clothes than on Keysi herself. Yet. "It's my job," she tells Keysi with more cheer as she straightens. "I am trying to make it easy on you, easy-ish, and your voice sounds much better." She tilts her head to give the brownrider a professional look-over, front and back and sides; conveniently, they also aren't so upper-class that their clothes require someone to help them change. "Good, it still fits. I worried there for a bit. What was your favorite food they had there, with the traders I mean?" Keysi clears her throat as she's examined. Shy? The once-healer has never worn anything at the Weyr beyond her riding gear or, previously, pants and tunics. With her swiftness of getting into the dress, it's likely she's at least worn one before. But she didn't expect to be looked over. "How far is it from here? We can't ride like this." She's not typically one for complaining, but this seems to be an exception, though with her last words she forgot the accent again. All of Telavi's cheer- and the dive for the tunic- offsets or unsettles her basis for arguement, and she gives in with and exhale and, " What's your story?" There might also be a small grin that lessens the intensity of her face at her last question, "You thought I'd get fat and lazy with all my... socializing?" Her gaze follows Telavi now, and after a reflective thought or two, "It wasn't a certain food. The campfires on the road.. They were nice." An understatement finishes it, the real description going unsaid- but not without a little extra color to her face. "Or skinny if it were awful," Telavi points out, "though it's easier to cinch in." Therefore, easier to adjust! "I am your wicked half-sister, and the first stop isn't so far; the next several will depend on what we find. Count on walking. Anyway, we're looking for the tinker for a hairclip to match your necklace." What necklace? The necklace Tela tugs out from a pocket, and jingles. She holds it out for Keysi to put on if she likes, or else she can do it herself; either way, though the blush met with a glance from under Tela's lashes, all she says there is, "I'm afraid firepits are none too likely, not unless we dig them ourselves, and that wouldn't be the same." "Wicked?" While Keysi's amusement is in earnest, it is semi-dramatized as if she can't believe it- practice! She tries, she does. And after the last month or so, it seems easier, "All those terrible things you've done- sweeping the dirt roads, fetching you water and fruit as you recline?" Playful? Seems to be, though she lacks some inflection to be able to make it wholly believable. But she considers the necklace not out of distaste for jewelry- surely that's there too- but a question, "What if it wasn't really a trinket cart? One kid said it wasn't. And if we get all the way there and they have no idea what we're inquiring about.." Playful, too, "No..." though Tela waits to answer until the necklace is squared away, moving to delicately encircle the brownrider's neck unless Keysi seems to prefer it a different way. It's a pretty if inexpensive thing, beads woven in with spiraling knotted laces. Once she's stepped back, "If it wasn't really a trinket cart, we have all the more reason to look bewildered," she explains. "We don't have to be right, only to have a good reason to be there. Why the hairclip, and why the evilness? Because I want to see you properly kitted out for your wedding." Wed-ding, sing-song. "Also some fresh air." Since weyrlinghood, she'd let her hair grow back out. Likely, Keysi would have cut it herself again given tapping into any other wing, but with Savannah? Currently it's tied up in a bun for the sake of riding gear, but as she turns to be at least ammendable to Tela clipping the neckace into place she lets it down. With all the care she puts into training, the same cannot be said for her hair-care. But it's the moment that hair's released that she blinks at that ending, hand paused mid-air. "Wedding?" If she was slightly accusatory earlier, this is much more so. "What do you mean, 'wedding'?" Tela blinks dulcetly at her. "See? Evil half-sister-- now let me fix your hair." Her fingers wiggle, all hopeful. She confides, too, "Don't think it's just me. You know R'hin pulls surprises all the time." "Who am I marrying?" Keysi's question is not so demanding as still surprised. "Whose idea was it?" Is much more reserved, and with a flicker of a grin that may be a little fondness sneaking through regardless of who, "I hope you- and he- aren't so wicked as to actually have set up someone to play this." But by the way she trails off at the end of that sentence? That would not be a surprise apparently. "What's wrong with my hair?" She lets her hand fall with the tie, a hint of confusion noting her earnest thought on it being absolutely fine as it is. "His," Telavi is all too sorry to have to admit, complete to the slight petulance of her lower lip, no matter that Keysi's facing the other way. "You'd do better to condition it more, and I can do it a little more neatly, I have pins." And she's all too ready to use them, given that clinking sound, if Keysi doesn't object overmuch. "As to your betrothed, you can name him, if you want. Or we can have a shorthand name for him like 'sweet-cheeks.' Or you can just come up with it on the fly; it's better in some ways to figure it out ahead of time, but in other ways, you don't want to look confused while you're trying to remember. You know?" Keysi doesn't object, standing still to let Telavi have her way with it- for better or for worse? She's even actually quiet about it, tied up in other thoughts aside from the quiet addition of, "Hair isn't important." Hushed, that, murmured more to herself. It's fortunate she's turned around, because the grimace sweet-cheeks creates is fairly profound for the usually muted expressions of Keysi. "Daken." She offers, "But as soon as we get the necklace piece, I'm getting cold feet and riding back to dad." Better. Much, much better-- at least, if Telavi has anything to say about it. She's gentle, but still efficient, avoiding tugs; if she disagrees with the hair estimation, and she must, she doens't say a word. "Daken. Rhymes with bacon; I like it," Tela compliments, and of course she does it cheerfully. "There, you're done. I'd like to put a little moisturizer on your face," and possibly other things, "but we'll survive. Ready to go?" Though first Tela's moving to retrieve Keysi's clothes, put them into a bag and thence into the valise, and with the help of the stool stash it in the rafters. Just in case. Despite the efficiency, there's impatience in Keysi and tense shoulders that denote it. It's not a lack of appreciation, but of the thought of its necessity, of course. She's quiet, a prolonged silence of thought, though Telavi had receieved a shake of her head in regards to the moisturizer, supporting the decision to not pursue such things. Her first steps to the door and thusly out as Tela finishes stashing their things, are awkward, made worse by the fact she doesn't quit fussing with the way the dress settles on her. "Aye." Is her response, though delayed in the time of things to almost seem unassociated with the prior question. It's a brisk hike out to the main road, but easy to fall into the swing of things; Telavi has murmured advice here and there, how to 'walk like a girl' and such, but otherwise quiet as though she's making it easier on Keysi or else listening to something else that only she can hear. Or maybe she just likes the scenery. When they come to a cothold not far away, morning sun shining off its stone roof, the greenrider murmurs, "Come on, Etty." 'Etty.' She's happy to walk briskly up to the cothold, but when the woman of the house answers... somehow she's moved to step behind the brownrider, though she does have a bright smile. It seems, despite her grades in weyrlinghood and her studiousness everywhere else, Keysi's worst subject is girliness. Though she doesn't seem to be trying to walk quite right or not fuss with the dress. That is, until they're within view of the cothold. She slows her naturally quck pace as they arrive, and right when she turns her head to call Tela out on moving behind her, the door opens. "H-" A correction, "Hello," Plaintive, too girly? Too high pitched maybe, but at least she's trying Cromese too. "I'm.. Etty. This is my sister.." Realizing she doesn't have the name, there's a mild fumbling but she turns enough to play it off, coming up with, "Brynn." Bristia, R'hin. That works. Somehow, Tela manages not to giggle, though it's a near thing. "Come on, Etty. You ask. It's for-- Excuse her," she says plaintively to the woman, who's relaxed somewhat upon seeing the two young women with their similar attire, but does look puzzled even so. "We dropped her on her head as a baby and she's never been the same since. Ask the nice woman," this last must be for Keysi. The look that earns is one that could easily be thought of as a sister- sister conflict, Keysi's brow furrowed, and mouth slightly open as if to argue. But the prompting takes that wind out of her, even if the brownrider is clearly not over that comment with the lingering stern look that only leaves Telavi to regard the puzzled woman once more, "We're looking for a trinket trader." She starts, "Have there been any to pass by here? We heard of one that might have recently." But as to the why? She seems a little less giving with that just yet. The woman's looking bemused, starting to shake her head even, so Telavi chimes in: "Not just yesterday or anything? More like, oh..." she names the date, "before the rains came?" Still no luck. "Before the awful news? Anyone? My half-sister," a bit of indulgence at the 'half,' "wanted a matching bit for her hair and of course we didn't get it at the time--" but, "No," the woman's pretty clear on, "No one at all, dear. Maybe he skipped us? Why don't you try up ahead." Telavi glances at Keysi; does she have more to ask? Keysi spends most of the time Telavi's busy questioning watching the woman's expressions. She's not so intense as to be unsettling, though some may find that to be a fine line. But when Tela turns the attention back to her, she blinks once, and then brings a grin to her expression. Her head starts to shake first, tensed fingers brought forwards to clasp in front of herself, though she doesn't quite pull off dainty. "Maybe if you hadn't spent so much time with that guy." She says as the reason for not getting it 'before', an apologetic slight shrug given to the woman before she starts to turn from the doorway, "Thank you for your time, ma'am." Tela's sniff verges on saucy; "Well, if you--" turns into, addressed to the woman instead of Keysi now, "Yes. Thank you for your time." Not that the woman won't be able to see her agitating to 'Etty' along the path, hands moving animatedly, should she peer through the window. What Tela says is, though, "There's a lot to be said for acting... close to home? You're more track-down-able, but it feels more natural, or at least it's supposed to, and then you look more believable so they don't even think to track you down, as much anyway. How was that? Other than annoying that she didn't know anything?" Keysi keeps an expression that looks partially offended, on the verge of an argument. But it doesn't match the words, as she's clearly playing along with the discussion started as they fade into the distance down the path. "More recognizable." She adds on the notion of being close to home. "But it makes sense. The familiar and all." Soon far enough away to let the expression slide into something more comfortable- that being a level neutral- she rubs the back of her neck, "Aside from being dropped on my head?" A brow rises briefly with that, "And the dress." Keysi has to add, she'd not be honest if she didn't, "I thought it went well. This will get exhausting after awhile if it continues like that." They have other stops to make, but the trail stays frustratingly cold. Not what it appeared to be, Telavi can only suppose. At least they ruled that out. But in the end, even after their return and their changes and the hot cider the greenrider arranges, ugh. |
Comments
Edyis (23:59, 13 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
"But as soon as we get the necklace piece, I'm getting cold feet and riding back to dad."
This had me rolling. Further proof that Telavi is just evil behind those dimples. XD
Leave A Comment