Logs:Seeds to be Sown
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| RL Date: 9 April, 2013 |
| Who: R'co, Sabella |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: While searching for a gardener, R'co finds - and scares off - Sabella |
| Where: Greenhouse |
| When: Day 17, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions |
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| Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath.
Outside in the 'Reaches sun is far more appealing to R'co, who's dressed for it in his Istan-inspired get-up, and yet he's being conscientious in visiting the greenhouse. The brownrider pauses at the entrance for a moment before slipping inside, where he takes another moment to take in the greenery that surrounds him. Then, with it all absorbed, he sashays down the pathway between plants. "Hello?" A tentative call, High Reaches accent tainted by an Istan twang. Peeping through foliage while examining a particularly large bloom has him spotting Sabella, and the new transfer in beams at his discovery. "I don't suppose you would happen to be a gardener, would you, darling? Would you know who's in charge here?" The greenhouse is supposed to be quiet this time of the day! Sabella shrinks down into her nook, clearly hoping to hide from whatever intruder is moving down the rows of plants. But there's no escape, she hears his question through the plants and the green weyrling exhales. But when she turns to look at him it's with a bright enough smile. "Ah, hello. No, darling. I wouldn't happen to be the gardener." She plucks at the knot on her shoulder as she looks R'co over. "I hear he's a big giant of a man. But he's not in here right now." R'co is still peeping through the flowers and leaves, and he rolls his blue eyes when he sees Sabella's knot. "No, of course you aren't. Weyrling." The latter is tagged on to prove that he's not a complete dunce, he can read knots - when he can see them. "And you're absolutely not a big giant of a man, now, are you?" He pouts in disappointment, withdraws his head from the foliage, and wanders off, presumably to find a way around to where the green weyrling sits. That he continues talking to her suggests the conversation's far from over. "Do you happen to know when he'll be back, doll? Or is there anyone else I can -- oh, there you are." And there she is, when he rounds a corner. "Anyone else I can speak to? I have seeds in dire need of being sown." "No, I'm not. Sorry to disappoint you!" Sabella calls after him when he moves away from where he peeks at her. She sets her pencil down to the paper again, beginning to shade in a particular section of one of her drawings. But it seems that R'co isn't quite done yet as she hears his voice again. "I don't know when he's going to be back. Unfortunately. He might be down at the bar or uh, attacking animals in the woods. He's sort of savage looking. So probably off doing savage things." Her smile is apologetic next and she shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know anyone else that can help you. Can't you just put the seeds into some dirt and grow them yourself? Unless that's some sort of innuendo. In which case, you could probably still sow them yourself." "Savage-looking?" The brownrider frowns, crossing his bare arms over his chest. "I'm not sure he sounds the sort I'd like to meet, if you describe him that way. Though I am quite sure I didn't spot him in the Snowasis just now - everyone in there looked perfectly docile. Well." He snorts, brushing his blonde hair back from his face. "As docile as a High Reaches crowd has ever been." His hand dips into his pocket, and a little pouch is produced, swung from its drawstings on the end of his slender finger. "Sadly, darling, it's entirely innuendo-free. Though I certainly wouldn't say no to your pretty self once you've lost that knot off your shoulder." The pouch is tucked back away. "I wouldn't dare start digging in someone else's patch. Gardeners can be awfully possessive of their dirt, you know? And Faranth forbid I go upsetting what some savage gardener has already set... no, love, I think I'll wait until I find him." "And where do you come from where everyone is so perfectly civilized and there are no savages?" Sabella asks, lifting one of her eyebrows curiously. "It sounds like a dreadfully boring place." She absently makes strokes of the pencil to the paper, adding little details here and there as she listens to the brownrider with one ear. The offer? to not say no later on is met with a short burst of light laughter from the weyrling. "You didn't impress me as the sort of man to be interested in pretty girls to be honest. But then I guess I should know better than to judge." She glances at the pouch of seeds and then looks past him. "Hopefully he won't keep you waiting for long." "High Reaches." R'co smirks. "High Reaches Weyr by birth, though I've been somewhat absent for the past, oh, 13 or so turns, however long it's been. Currently by way of Ista Weyr, and I can assure you, it's hardly as interesting there as it is here." Leaning towards Sabella, he offers her his hand. "R'co, darling. Of brown Deveriteauxth. And other than a pretty girl who I would most certainly be interested in, you are...?" "If it's not as interesting there as it is here, why did you bother spending nearly a decade and a half there?" She doesn't sound like she's making fun of him or anything. Sabella flashes him a quick smile as she resigns herself to making no further real progress on this particular sketch. She pushes the pencil behind her ear and returns the handshake, her own grip likely firmer than he expects. "That's a mouthful. Do you say his full name all the time?" And as to her own introductions, "Sabs. Green Ghislaith's." R'co shakes his head, holding up a correcting finger. "Six turns, actually, only since I Impressed. I was with the Healers before that. Ista has it's charm, but... well, it was time to come home." What has been an affable enough demeanour until this point closes in somewhat, with the blonde's smile fading as he exhales in a soft sigh. Then it's forced back, softer now. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sabs, and congratulations on Impressing Ghislaith. I do call him Dev," which sounds like 'Dave', "though honestly, so many people get confused... it sounds awfully lot like the name of someone I was at the Hall with. When I say 'I ride brown Dev,' you should see the looks I get. I'm sure they think I'm being filthy and referencing some... some Neratian, or something." "Oh, I'm sorry. Was the healer hall exciting at least?" Sabella asks, closing the cover over on her notebook and tucking it under one of her arms. "Thank you. She's lovely." The weyrling replies politely if not quite genuinely. "Why don't you just tell them a fake dragon name instead of shortening it? It's not like it'll make a great deal of difference to the average stranger." And as for that other thing, she laughs quietly again her mouth pulled into a playful smile. "Perhaps. Are there a lot of Neratians named Dev?" "Would you lie about Ghislaith's name? I'm rather fond of his name, actually." One hand drops to his hip, which R'co cocks as he huffs, pride hurt by the suggestion. "Though I suppose if you were to shorten her name... Ghis would be rather unfortunate, don't you think? It sounds far dirtier than Dev does. Though her name is perfectly beautiful as it is, I wouldn't shorten it at all." Then he backtracks a little, canting his head slightly to the side before brushing blonde out of his eyes. "I swear, darling, Healer-types at the Hall are even more studious than Harpers. It can be terribly boring there, unless you find the right people to be friends with. If my grandmother hadn't been paying for my tuition there, I'm sure I would have left. Did you do anything exciting, before you became Ghislaith's?" "Yeah, why not? Ghislaith knows what her name is, I know what her name is. It's not like it's really important to anyone other than ourselves." Sabella shrugs her shoulders, like this logic is the simplest thing in the world. "Well, darling. If I told people I rode Green Ghis, they wouldn't think I was talking about dropping my skirts to get with a man from Nerat. So I'm not certan Ghis sounds far dirtier at all." She smiles brightly at him despite the subject and slips to her feet, notebook tucked under her arm. "Sounds like you've lived a quiet life so far. Welcome home and myself? Well. No, not really." For that the curve of her mouth might be a little secretive, but there aren't words forthcoming. Lips curved into a pout of amusement, R'co bites back a laugh. "Oh, darling, either you're far more innocent than I think, or... surely you must know what that sounds like - or perhaps it's just an Istan term that's not made it this far yet?" Despite there being no-one else around (that he can see, anyway), the brownrider leans in towards the weyrling, one brow raised high beneath his blonde fringe. "It sounds awfully like a word we'd use if I had been talking innuendo with the earlier seed conversation, darling. Though I would hope that the fact you'd say green would clue people in - otherwise, Faranth, someone would clearly have a problem. Green! Can you even imagine?" He smoothes his hair down as he straightens up, pressing both hands to his hips when he's set everything as right as can be without a mirror. "I've had rather an interesting life, actually, hardly as quiet as it may sound. It may get just a little more interesting when I track down this supposedly brutish gardener... did you say he's likely to be by the bar? Perhaps I ought to go check again." Sabella draws her notebook protectively across her chest and levels R'co with a stare from her wide green eyes. She looks appropriately horrified by the suggestion he's just made. "I'm a weyrling. We're not supposed to be talking about that sort of thing. Especially with an older rider." She lifts her chin and draws her eyebrows together, a deep concentrated furrow. "If you'll excuse me. I have to go back to my studying. I hope you find your 'gardener'." With a quick step, she turns and disappears down amongst the plants and likely out into the sunlight. |
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