Logs:Monaco Mission
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| RL Date: 9 October, 2014 |
| Who: Edyis, Rh'mis, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rhey takes Edyis to Monaco Hold. They run into an old man. |
| Where: Monaco Hold |
| When: Day 12, Month 13, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
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| Monaco Hold It's a few hours straight flight from Monaco weyr, close enough to smell the salt winds off the ocean. Monaco Hold sits nestled between swaths of southern jungle which provide cover for the approach to the hold proper. Between the heat and the exotic scents caught on the breeze the air is an almost overwhelming to the senses. Salt air and sunlight, the first sensations after the numbing cold of between, landing in a small clearing out of view of Monaco's major hold. Judging by the speed at which Edyis detangles herself and her supplies from Rosvelth's straps, she's been planning this trip a long time, as she starts to strip the winter gear on the opposite side of the brown obscured from view. "Change quickly, there's some Monaco style clothing in that bag," Tossing it blindly in the Nabolese boy's general direction. "I think I should have your size roughly right." It doesn't take long before she returns to view, properly attired in southern style clothing, the knot of a Monaco Scribe affixed to her shoulder her usual braid pinned up in a bun. "Can you manage a Monaco accent?" She asks, her own speech altering just slightly to disguise the Nabolese lilt it normally carries. Today is pretty much Rhey's first trip outside the weyr since the cold that turned into pneumonia finally let up; he's still a bit pale, and rather thinner than even his usual, but at least his cough - which would have been most inconvenient right now - has cleared up. He has to cinch his belt tightly to keep the trousers Edyis has provided up, but he does so wordlessly, and without complaint. "Can do something neutral," he says, with a shrug. But then, his usual tones are neutral regardless. "I'm usually more of a spymaster than a spy," though he sounds almost amused when he says that last. Almost. Amusement might be too much to ask; this is Rhey, after all. At this time of day the Hold is busy with all sorts of people. It's the perfect time of day to arrive, with many crossing the courtyard to head to a late lunch, or back to work. Not a single person would even look twice at another pair of people in Monaco style clothing. "Have to learn to walk before you can run." She replies with an almost fierce grin. "Neutral's good, and whatever you do, do not mention Savannah if you can help it. you sure you are going to be ok? We can always try for another day if you aren't feeling up to it. " Perhaps getting her first good look at him without the layers of winter gear. Rhey's, "I'm fine," is probably echoes of the sentiment that landed him with the pneumonia in the first place, but maybe the warm, Monacoan summer air will be good for him. He gives his brown a glance - a warning glance, like a silent reminder not to give them away - and then glances back at Edyis. "Not that stupid. I get it, really. I just keep my head down. It's fine. Come on." He takes a few steps off towards the busy courtyard, adopting a lazy, languid kind of stride. One last survey of the satchel at her shoulder, and a rueful shake of her head at that I'm fine. She should have paid more attention, but then he's getting ahead of her and in the manner of so many young apprentices gives a whine, "Wait up!" Falling into step just a little behind him. "I hate when they send us on these trips, you'd think Master Hildan would be more careful." She must be dropping into character, even as dark eyes move to the entry way gently indicating to Rhey the direction in which they are headed. Rh'mis, even in character, seems inclined to fall into the 'skinny and silent' archetype, and merely grunts in answer to Edyis' words. His own eyes track where the scribe indicates, but also move further afield; it's a lazy sweep of the area, expressing diffidence despite the keenness of his gaze. One of the younger girls winks at Rh'mis -- or is she winking at Edyis? -- but otherwise they pass by unnoticed. Striding through the entry way Edyis seems to have a fairly firm grasp on where they are headed, It's a quick turn that brings them into a seemingly vacant room that smells of dust, hide and faint hints of mildew. No doubt a side effect of the climate, she lowers her voice to a murmur, "We are looking for the immigration records. I need about ten minutes to get them memorized depending on how many documents we find." As she veers off to one of the sets of sky broom shelves, carefully checking the identification tags. "We are looking for about 25 turns ago so check for turns 13-16." She moves over to the next row. Rhey covers his face with his hand as they enter the records room; a sneeze sounds, muffled but still audible. He swallows heavily, but while his solemn expression and serious eyes, there's no suggestion that he's anything but on board with the plan. "What, specifically?" he wants to know, in an undertone, traipsing after Edyis, though aiming his attentions at the opposite shelf. Truly, he can be nothing but a maladjusted, insolent teenager, the way he sighs and pokes at things. The sneeze causes a stir in one of the further corner of the room out of view. Rustling sounds can be heard. The pointed glare given to the rider is something that can only be perfected by turns spent working in a Records Room, She seems to miss the rustling noises, moving quickly over to yet another row. "I just told you what we were looking for." The look Edyis gets - even if she's already out of immediate sight - is pure teen, complete with rolled eyes. Rhey has caught the rustling sound, but aside from a vague glance in that direction, he ignores it. After all, aren't they just perfectly legitimate scribes? He's slower than Edyis to hunt the shelves, but not by that much; he ambles around a corner a few moments later, idly wiping dust off volumes as he trails his fingers down them. Then; "Here." The rustling sounds get louder, and a sort of growl can be heard from the same direction. It's the Here that gets her attention, and she's over in an instant snagging the volume off the shelf. Of course now the rustling noises are noted with puzzled concern. She flips the tome open, and begins skimming, eyes dancing over the lines on the page. At least until the growl is heard. Since Rhey doesn't know exactly what they're looking for, he abandons Edyis to her volume, taking a few steps off towards the sound of that growl. "Hey, hello?" Oh look; he can talk! "Who's there? You'll scare her," this, in a loud whisper, "and then she'll never let me feel her up behind the stacks." About the same time as Edyis snaps shut the volume she's holding in indignation, and answers "Never going to happen." She turns to face Rhey and a rather large (for the rodent catcher variety) grey and black furry mass darts out of the corner, with a hiss, ears pinned back. Edyis is stuffing the book into her bag, and moving back toward the door content to leave Rhey to be eaten by the angry guardian of the library. Nope she's not sticking around. The rodent clearly doesn't bother Rhey; he glowers at it, moodier than ever, then turns to hurry after Edyis. "Are you sure? C'mon. It'd be fun! You know you want to. Pleaaaaaaaase?" It's horribly out of character, and it quite possibly pains Rhey to even joke about it, even in character. With that hasty exit, it's probably understandable that Edyis doesn't see the hunched figure passing by outside until that moment of collision; the older, hunched man coughs, stumbling back, shaking his white-haired head as if trying to get his bearings. SHIT. This thought comes to Edyis more often than it really should, stepping back and regaining her balance. "I'm sorry sir." Blushing furiously, glaring at Rh'mis as she's trying to get out of the poor man's way, hand resting over the flap closing her bag. Barely visible, Rhey's eye roll. Then, abruptly, he straightens. He may be near-skeletally thin at the moment, but it doesn't mean he can't step past Edyis and offer the man his arm; "Can I help you somewhere, sir? My friend didn't mean it, truly. She gets excited, sometimes, and... well. You know how girls get, sometimes." They're a trial. "Careful there, girl," comes the gravely voice from the old man, radiating disappointment in her energetic nature. Pale (somehow familiar?) eyes lift at the offer from her male companion, and with a grunt of surprise, the old man nods, shuffling to take his arm. "I know it. Had two girls myself, and they all had girls," his Monacoan accent is laced with a gritty laugh. Dark eyes lifting to meet pale ones, she focuses a moment as Rhey offers the man his arm. "You'll have to forgive my terrible manners sir. The feline startled me." Voice so soft and contrite that you'd think she was appologizing for a far more terrible grevience. Hands folded neatly over her bag as she falls in step on the side opposite Rhey. "Are your daughters with you today?" She asks, glancing about but at the same time sneaking furtive glances at the older man when she's sure he's not looking. "Surrounded by women? That's never good," is Rhey's reply, blithely cheerful to the point of-- really? Radiant? Nearly, anyway. He's too observant not to have noted this pale eyes, familiar as they are, but the information is clearly filed away somewhere; for now, he focuses on gently leading the old man onwards. "Where can I take you, sir?" "Feline?" the dubiousness infuses the old man's voice as he raises a bushy eyebrow at Edyis. "No, they're all grown up now," he exhales a sigh. "But you can help me out by running this bag over to young Bresten, he's usually loitering over near the kitchen. Be quick about it, mind. My old bones won't stand for waiting around." And then he's guffawing at Rh'mis' cheerful response. "I'll say, young man. Maybe some sun out in the courtyard will do us some good. We can wait for your girl there." Edyis takes the bag without much fuss, "Of course sir." Something undefinable in her expression, before she's sprinting off in the direction of the kitchens. Leaving the two men alone to chat. Rh'mis casts a momentary glance after Edyis, but makes no comment on her departure, or the errand in question. His own brown eyes turn sidelong to consider the old man again, a nod confirming their direction; he leads on. "She means well," he says of 'his girl.' "She just gets a little over-enthusiastic. But you'd know all about that. There are some nice rocking chairs, just out here--" It's not far to the courtyard, at least, which is probably good since Rhey's legs are, quite possibly, ever so wobbly. A grunt from the old man answers that. "You don't seem that stable yourself, boy." Apparently the old man, while setting a slow, shuffling pace, isn't unobservant. "I was ill," is Rhey's immediate explanation. "That's why I'm here. From up north, but they thought the climate... I've spent most of my time in bed." He gives his pale arms a glance, and laughs. "But I'm getting better. I'm well enough to help, I promise." "The young recover swiftly," is the old man's opinion. There's a flurry of noise when they come out into the courtyard, a group of girls tittering over someone of importance, no doubt. The chairs aren't fair, and with a nod of thanks, the white-haired finger sinks into one of the seats, exhaling in relief. "Sitting still is an old man's job. Make sure you take care of that girl," he says, somehow turning the advice into warning. It's not swiftly that Edyis makes her way back, having had trouble locating the Young Bresten. Who as it turns out was not so very young as the name implied, and who also seemed surprised that she was the one delivering it. She must have also taken the time she needed to skim the book, and return it because it's from that direction that she seems to be approaching. Rh'mis releases the man as he sinks into the chair, though he hovers until he's settled; just to make sure. With a wry laugh, he sits down on the edge of the chair next to it. "Reckon I will," he agrees. "She needs it. But she's a good sort, really. She has all this book learning I can't even imagine, you know? It's exhilarating." His legs are definitely shaking, even now that he's not actually standing. He frowns at them; scowls, even, after a moment. "You'd best go home and rest, boy," is the old man's sage advice. He seems content to stay here in the courtyard, in the sun. "Looks like she's coming back," he says, pale eyes fixing on Edyis, and a fleeing smile visible beneath fuzzy, white hair. Acomplishing what she'd set out to achieve must have put her in a better mood because by the time Edyis gets back, she's all smiles. "Young Bresten was suprised, but happy that he got his package sir. I hope you don't mind if I steal him back now that you are comfortably settled. Though I'd much prefer your company." With something of a smirk and a wink, but she's even going so far as to offer Rh'mis her arm somewhat expectantly. "I'm fi--" But Rhey stops, stops before he manages to sound too petulant, though a flush darkens his cheeks anyway. He shades his eyes with one hand, glancing up at Edyis as she returns. "Are you going to tuck me back into bed?" he asks her, wearily. "What's the point of recuperating in a tropical paradise if all you ever see are the wooden walls of your room, and the thatch of your ceiling?" "You're a good girl." the old man welcomes Edyis briefly, though after a glance, he waves the pair of them off, settling down into the chair, head dropping towards his chin. "Go, go." "Yes, and if you are well behaved it may even prevent me from drowning you in broth." Which for Rhey may translate into him being dragged into one of the infirmary cots at their true destination, and being forced to stay there quite pointedly. "It seems," says Rhey, with a drama that may well have been borrowed from his rarely-acknowledged lifemate, "that I have no choice whatsoever!" He casts a mournful glance at the old man, but from there, it's up and away... for now. |
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