Logs:Turf Skirmish
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| RL Date: 20 August, 2014 |
| Who: Alida, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alida and Lya don't talk. |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 8, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup. The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes.
Late enough means Alida's finally finished with another reconn/investigation of leads and facts South, near Monaco, the bluerider tired, dirty with sweat and dust, and rather mentally assed-out to some degree. A long day and evening spent in pursuit of potential revenge never settles easily upon anyone's shoulders. No matter; the blonde still has things to tend to when returning home, and once she's done conducting Ilicaeth's and Pyrite's baths in the Weyr lake - thank Faranth it's summer! - 'lida's finally stepping into the bathing cavern for her own...a set of clean clothes and a few personal toiletries carried in a small, fabric bag at her side. Soon after nabbing a set of towels for herself near the entrance/exit, the guard is settling her crap into a nearby nook, stripping off her dirty clothes and dropping them there, then taking up a baggie of soap sand and a large vial of some white cream in hand. Be certain that her other hand holds one towel up before her, the covering and second towel dropped to the side of the pool's edge just before she carefully wades into her chosen pool...the one right next to where Lya is settled. If the rider saw the resident in the omnipresent mists, she doesn't let on in any way. "Of all the pools in all the bathing caverns in all of Pern, and you had to invade my little corner." It's not a corner; the pool is rounded here, but don't let that weaken the teenager's complaint. Lycinea shifts letting her feet slide back into the water and submerging up to her calves as she sits on the edge. "Well, at least you're not an old perverted bronzerider, so that's something." She salvages the silver lining but sounds less than enthusiastic by the company at any rate. Normally, Alida might be somewhat tempted to offer a pithy bon mot in retaliation to Lycinea's words of 'pool possession,' but the bluerider is a little drained right now, so a wall of indifferent silence will have to suffice for a retort, the woman giving a sudden, small yawn, then setting about wetting her hair, attacking it with soap sand and arched fingers. If she were the accommodating kind, she might've also chosen another pool farther away, resettled herself there with a quiet 'pardon me.' Yeah; good luck on *that*. The teenager sighs, and sets about shifting her legs in the water so that little wavelets start and build as she is let to go on. If Alida won't leave of her own accord, perhaps Lya can make this bit of pool seem less appealing. The bluerider is a stubborn one at the best of times, and utterly intractable at the worst, so all Lya gets for her 'pot stirring' is more ignoring while Alida concentrates her tired self on cleansing the grit from her mass of long hair. The lather on her grape, her hands is light brown with soil, dust, spatters of suds flopping down onto the surface of the constantly circulating water. Note the vestigial hint of faint irritation behind those squinted green eyes as they do *not* look to the teen. Teenage attention spans are certainly not anything remarkable, unless one counts occasionally remarkably short. It's not so much that Alida wins this turf war, so much as Lya simply decides it's not as interesting as picking her hair out of her brush. She does, helpfully, drop that clump of hair into the pool, which she mightn't do if the bluerider weren't behaving as she is, but there it is. And then Lycinea is up and moving to the cubbies to dry off, don her mismatched and many-patched clothes before whistling her way out of the cavern. Even the tune is obnoxious. The only words that follows Lycinea's ass out the exit are Alida's muttered, "Stupid twat..." the bluie avoiding that clump of hair as it swirls past her out of sight. |
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