Logs:Matched Sets
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| RL Date: 27 October, 2014 |
| Who: Ashe, X'vae, Z'riah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Pretty people of questionable intelligence. |
| Where: Craft Complex. High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 2, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Brilliant light plays off of the dunes of snow as a cloudless winter day brings with it extreme cold. |
| OOC Notes: Adult themes. |
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| Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr A passageway hewn into the rock and heavily patched with cement leads a short distance in to the bowl wall, with a door on either side. Lit by regularly spaced glows, the white-washed walls have been covered over by colorful tapestries, wall hangings and pieces of art made from metal and wood. To the left of the entranceway, just a single step inside, a spiral staircase opens out of the wall, leading upwards through the stone. Further down, a doorway opens to either side of the corridor, while at the far end, there is a hewn-stone staircase leading up to the residential quarters, wreathed by two final doors to private quarters and the bathing room. The door leading to the east opens into an expansive room that seems to provide both general working space - with long, bare benches and chairs - and a cozy lounge complete with over-stuffed sofas and a few fuzzy armchairs. Three tall windows are carved into the stone, and offer air and light when the heavy wooden shutters are left open, though the lounge area has to make do mostly with glows. A hearth at the back of the room provides both heat and basic cooking facilities. The white-washed walls are bedecked with decoration - from quilts, to tapestries, to wooden carvings and metal sculptures. The western door leads into another passage, off of which the main workrooms have been built. The loading dock is at the northern end, leading back out into the bowl, with the rest of the rooms leading deeper and deeper into the wall. It's been a very cold, but snow-free day. Well, any new snow. The old snow is out there in dunes and packed hills, and whatever it is that weyrfolk and dragons alike do to make inroads in the snow blanket. The craft complex is warm, though, at least further from the shuttered windows and the entrance. A draft can still be felt by those in the immediate passageway from the bowl. Ashe is sprawled on a pile of pillows in the lounge area, on her back, and looking up at the ceiling. Her dark hair spills in a fan about her head. With her finger, she starts making invisible marks in the air, presumably on that ceiling. Whatever she's writing involves a lot of numbers, strike outs, smaller numbers, and just a lot of random lines. The rest of the room is in a quiet, after dinner bustle of winding down, studying, and general chatter. "Trust me, you'll love it!" X'vae's baritone cuts the silence with its bright enthusiasm. His hand pats Z'riah's shoulder in a reassuring manner as they enter the main area from the direction of the Smith workroom. "Maybe not as much as you loved your twenty-second turnday gift, but I think it's safe to say it would be hard to top that, except with redheads." There's amusement in the bluerider's voice. Both men stick out among the High Reaches riders for their lighter colored leathers that are styled just a bit differently than the standard garb around here. More blue-today eyes slide toward the exit and then he's suggesting, "Klah, before we brave the--" He waves a hand to indicate the whole mess of winter that lives outside, even if it's less messy today than some others. Without waiting for Z'riah's answer, he's already moving toward the lounge and its ceiling-sketching occupant, whom he has to step around (and of course can't resist peering down at for a moment) in order to get to his goal. "Or redheaded twins," says Z'riah a little wistfully. Good thoughts, man. But the greenrider is quite sure that twins don't from from the craft complex as a general rule. He glances bowl-wards and agrees, "Klah," turning to follow the bluerider. There's a brief, brow-raised glance toward Ashe but Z'riah has priorities and she'll have to wait until he has something warm in his hands. "Hey, watch out," says a vaguely irritated voice from the ground. The masses of hair. The fan of hair. Something sprawled all over there. Ashe bolts up to sit and scowls from behind a pair of thin spectacles, at the pair of men who have dared to cross her writing view. Well, scowls until she gets a double take look at them and those little lines of annoyance try to smooth out. Annoyed? Her? "Oh. Carry on then, you can stand right there and you right there for as long as you'd like." It's amazing what good looks can let you get away with. Good looks and charming smiles! Well, one from X'vae anyway. After an askance look at Ashe from the klah pot at the irritation, her next words have him laughing warmly and giving her a lop-sided sort of smile. "Will it help you think?" He queries, as he offers the first mug he filled to the greenrider. "Point," he offers to his companion as an aside, lest he worry the bluerider doesn't understand and fully appreciate redheaded twins. Oh, Z'riah has a charming smile, all right. He'll even use it once he has a mug of klah and he's taken a brief, careful drink from it. "Oh, come on. Thinking isn't what you're supposed to encourage her to do." But the greenrider cuts himself off and that probably ends up sounding way worse than he'd intended it to without the follow up commentary about what he's supposed to be encouraging. "It limits my virtual chalkboard so I don't go nuts with these ideas that I will never remember to transpose on paper later." Ashe's explanation sounds earnest. It might even really be earnest, except, where there was once irritation, there's a sudden equally charming smile reflected back at X'vae. "Or, it could be helpful, simply because you're just both too pretty to look at and it'd be a shame to..." and whatever else she might have said trails off as she angles dark eyes upon Z'riah. "Ain't it a shame for girls to think," she oh so slowly drawls out. X'vae might buffet Z'riah's shoulder, but there's hot drinks involved, so he settles for coughing a little behind his mug, now that he has it in hand, as if to try to help warn Z'riah of the hole he might've started to dig. "Sweetner?" He offers to the other man by way of attempting a save, even though he surely knows full well that the greenrider doesn't take his klah like that. He'll add some to his own though and say, self-deprecatingly, "You'll have to forgive us pretty boys. A person is only given so many natural gifts in life," implying that their pretty directly limits their brain power. "We'll just have to leave the thinking to the ones who lucked out and good looks and wit, like you." That's not laying it on too thick, is it? If it is, at least he'll have sacrificed himself for his friend and that'll make him a happy man. (Weirdo.) The question from his friend makes Z'riah give X'vae an odd look because he obviously knows that he knows how he likes his klah. "I didn't mean it like that. Girls thinking is great. Especially when it involves thinking about us. You can even think about us together if that's what floats your boat." This probably isn't a great follower. But it is natural. For him. Sort of like pushing X'vae aside and throwing himself on the grenade, ruining the bluerider's sacrifice. The look Z'riah received has got nothing on the one X'vae now gets. "Mmm. A matched set." Ashe surmises, failing to elaborate a matched set of what. "You're in luck." A decision has been made, Ashe's lower lip jutting forward, and the apprentice draws her knees to her chest and then leans forward to fall on them and looks up at the two men. "Pretty and brainless right here. What do girls need with thinking about permutations and derivatives anyway, right? I mean, not in the craft complex for sure. Shall I fetch you a sandwich, sir? Rub your feet? Think about what delightfully sinful things the three of us could do together?" For her own version of laying it on thick, the starcrafter rolls her eyes as she gets off her knees and stands. "In case we got off on the wrong foot and you want a name to attach to my impertinence, I'm Ashe, but you," for Z'riah explicitly, complete with a cheeky smile, "You can call me Knees." X'vae isn't choking on his laughter, nope, nope, nope. Not even when he's throwing a guilty look toward Z'riah for finding it funny. "Maybe I should leave you two alone to get to know each other," clearly they're a matched set of something else. "X'vae," he offers to the apprentice as an aside. His name isn't the most important thing, just now, and he'd hate to somehow stop this back and forth that's started, blue-today eyes eagerly following the thread of it between one and the other. "Knees?" Z'riah doesn't get it. She certainly hasn't done anything interesting while on her knees and if there's some other reason for the name, it completely goes over his pretty head. He shoots a look at X'vae. "This is your fault. I was gonna try hooking you up." But then he remembered that one thing and he stopped before he really got started. Because he's an awesome friend, guys. Notably, he doesn't offer his own name. Maybe he forgot. "X'vae. Well met." The prettier of the two gets a charming version of Ashe's smile. The nameless one? He still gets a smile, but it's followed by a quip, "Sweet knees. On your knees. Knees to the crotch. I'd say you could take your pick, but I can probably guess which one is up your alley. You," she nods to him, and then X'vae, "Or your friend, could fetch me a mug too, to make up for being douchebags and we can start over where I don't objectify the two of you for being utterly pretty and probably will be filling my dreams indecently tonight, and you won't be so... you? Can we do that, please? I mean, after I thank the two of you for proving to me that there are better things to think about than whether a perfect prime integer exists out there." There is just a half second of silence, after which the apprentice leans forward to confide, "I'm teasing. I just felt I should explain that. Just in case my sarcasm switch wasn't fully on yet. I like you. Both of you and I hardly know you. Both of you. This is confusing." X'vae will do it! Never fear, Ashe. Maybe he needs a break from all the intense sexual tension. So much for sacrifice! The Nice Guy Imperative requires he abandon Z'riah momentarily to Ashe's particular brand of wit and charm while he pours another, only interrupting again to ask, "How do you take it, Ashe?" Today, the role of objectified sandwich-maker-- er, klah-getter will be played (and excellently so!) by X'vae. "You'd probably be wrong," says Z'riah about her guess of which of those might be up his alley. The greenrider seems willing enough to start over, though. Even if it includes him finding somewhere nearby to sit and look broody instead of happy while he sips at his klah. Ashe's strange brand of wit and charm have at least had the nice effect of shutting him up. If that can, indeed, be considered a nice effect. "Dark. Like his hair." Ashe is interrupted from bantering further when a younger teenager wanders out from one of the private alcoves and gestures. "I'm afraid, boys, duty calls, but I'll see you later tonight while I sleep." She finger wiggles a farewell and saunters away, mindful to brush right by Z'riah. Cause that's what not thinking girls do. The way X'vae says, "Well, she had spirit," as he comes to stand by Z'riah's chair to drink his klah, gaze fixed in the direction of Ashe's exit, is highly complimentary. "Maybe you should ask her for a date," he suggests with amusement, letting his glance fall to his friend. The brush earns no visible reaction except that Z'riah, too, turns his head once Ashe has passed him to watch her go. "I don't date," is his response to his friend, his tone suggesting that X'vae knows that perfectly well. "But wouldn't mind a tour of her bed." And in the following exchange between the friends, the greenrider doesn't even suggest that X'vae could use that chance more than him. Dibs? |
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