Logs:Unexpected Fascination
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| RL Date: 25 October, 2014 |
| Who: Azaylia, Ashe |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ashe takes up an interest in Hraedhyth's 'trophies', and updates Azaylia about future projects. |
| Where: Weyrleader Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 2, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| Weyrleader Complex, High Reaches Weyr Only about a man's height from the ground, this low ledge is wide and flat, reached by a set of timeworn steps that hug the cliff face. As the ledge stretches back away from the head of the stairs, it simultaneously broadens out over the bowl and tunnels into the mountain to become a sort of antechamber, from which a passageway winds back to the Weyrwoman's weyr, the council room, the records room and the hatching sands. A small round table is set in a shallow alcove here, surrounded by four chairs that provide a waiting area for those seeking one of the weyrleaders. Another short flight of stairs leads upward from the tapering end of the ledge to the Weyrleader's quarters, while others lead to the further recessed junior queens' weyrs. While it's hard to get a good look at the lake from here, the view does encompass the majority of the bowl and the comings and goings across its span.
Ashe's path takes her out of the council chambers, rather than up the stairs from the bowl, and she carries in her hands a tray with a pitcher of something steaming along with a small plate of nibbles. With puckered brow marring her pretty face, the apprentice is a little hesitant, as first her head and then the rest of her body peek from the council chambers exit, finding more confidence in posture and stride when she espies Azaylia and her mass of furs. Unlucky for the apprentice, she's less cold resistant. "Ma'am?" The low alto interrupts as unobtrusively as an interruption can be. "The kitchens thought you might like a refill and a snack. And I was heading this way anyway and thought I'd save some poor girl..." Ashe loses track of what she might have said when she sees the skull paperweight and nearly chokes over her tongue. "Ah.. um.. I mean, the trouble of bringing it." A pause. "Is that real?" Azaylia is slowly pulled from her thoughts, although she manages to finish it on the page. There's a smile of satisfaction and a faint nod before she looks up, finding Ashe with that same soft curl of her lips. "Hello." She shifts, glancing back toward the council chambers before a breathless laugh leaves her, "Sorry. I'm usually on the ledge." The one with a large dragon's head staring directly at the two, though there's no sign Hraedhyth is bothered by Ashe's presence. "Thank you, though. I... the starsmith girl?" She's trying, but without a dragon most weyrfolk must rely on her faulty memory alone. Azaylia makes room for the tray, not hesitating to pluck up the skull and replace it in one swift motion. "Mm? Yes. One of Hraedhyth's trophies. They started to clutter up our weyr, so I thought I'd put them to use." And paint them, apparently, 'Reachian blue and black. "It's... so clean." Utterly and absolutely baffled at how a skull could be so clean, the apprentice's gaze swings to find Azaylia and then back again. "I..." There's a tray in her hand which stops her from being able to reach for the skull, which then promptly reminds her that she's not here to stare, and moves to put the tray down on any spot of free nook table available. "I'm sorry. My mother would box my ears for my lack of manners. But I've never actually seen anything like that so closely before." There's no shortage of amusement at Ashe's fascination, eyes bright as she explains, "We bury her favorites and let the bugs take care of most of it. Then it's just a matter of boiling, scrubbing, and drying out in the sun." Azaylia gives a little shake of her head, reaching for a small biscuit and taking a bite. "Your mother sounds strict," A light tease, as it seems the Weyrwoman is much more easy going. Reaching over, fingers hook the wherries eyeholes as she casually offers the painted skull to the younger woman. "Have a look, we've got a whole weyr full." The papers are pinned down by an elbow as she devours the nibbly in her other hand. "My mother," Ashe begins, a pained flicker in her eyes eventually released into the world with a sigh, "Had grand hopes for me and I used to be more willing to acquiesce to them. My parents think this whole apprenticeship is a lark. A fleeting interest I'll get bored of eventually." Blurred over eyes, lost in the reflection instigated by Azaylia's tease, drift over the skull suddenly in her hand, her fingers working over it with a blindness that speaks of how little she is aware until... yep, there's a yelp and a sudden flying of the skull like a hot potato that's suddenly clutched in her two hands. "I didn't break it. I promise, it's not broken. I didn't drop it." Before Azaylia can comment on parents and their expectations, the wherry skull is trying to take flight! Or, Ashe is juggling it hard enough for the goldrider to gasp, and for Hraedhyth to lift her head with a low growl. After the dust settles, "No, no! It's okay. She didn't break it." An echo of the apprentice's words, hands smoothing the air in a slow rhythm, one that has the warrior queen's head inching back down. After a sigh of relief, "It's alright. Like I said, we have plenty." The plate of snacks is brought up and placed on the papers as the skull's replacement, still allowing Ashe a chance to get a closer look. "But I understand. My father thought the same thing when I was a Beastcraft apprentice." Another exhale to banish the lasting tension, "I'm sorry, I completely forgot your name." Now that she's sure they have spoken, at least once. "Ashe," answers the apprentice, now that SkullGate scare is over and the head is held fast in her hands. She stares intently into the empty sockets where eyes once were and slowly turns it about to observe all the niches and crevices. "And yes, I'm the starcraft apprentice and I'd hoped to have a moment of your time but this... this is just fascinating. You were a herder before Impressing?" "Ashe." Spoken like a promise that Azaylia will get it right next time, though that might not be the case. "It's almost sundown, and my meetings are done for the day." The scheduled ones, at least. "I have moments to spare." The mug of hot water is brought closer, used teabag plucked up from the empty cup to be used a second time. And though the Weyr may still feel off tilt with recent events, the Weyrwoman is in a good enough mood despite this. "I was. But then I Impressed..." And the rest is history. "Is it? Fascinating, I mean." "This once was alive. It had skin, blood, veins, and the other trappings of life," Ashe says. "But now it's just a skeleton, literally." By stating all the things the skull once was seems to remind Ashe of what she's holding and with the ginger movements of one not sure if she's entirely comfortable now, she returns the skull to the table. The curiosity bright in the apprentice's eyes lingers, though her words don't necessarily correlate, "I don't expect you remembered much of our initial conversation, ma'am, but I wanted to let you know of some progress I've made on behalf of my craft and wanted to get your permission before pursuing things further." Azaylia considers the skull Ashe holds, expression thoughtful if a little sad. "It helps to think that it's getting a use, even after all that." A harsh reality that she's come to accept, bonded to a dragon and all. The skull is placed back on the papers, easily swapped with the finger foods that she offers to the apprentice. Whether she accepts or not, the plate will find its way back to the tray. "I remember something about the mountains in our territory? But please, tell me how it's going?" There's another chair, if Ashe is so inclined. Now that the skull isn't in her hands and the adrenaline thereof no longer courses her body, the chill of the outdoors invades. Ashe takes the seat, a shiver drawing in a sharp gust of air, and folds her arms about her chest. "Actually, three stations, I believe will service our craft the best, but only one of them is in the Weyr's specific territory, though the other two are in Reachian territory and we may want to commission a wing or two of riders to assist." But that secondary matter is set aside while Ashe focuses on the primary. "I hoped to go up there with a rider friend once the spring thaw comes, and ascertain in person whether it's feasible or not before attempting to present something more formal to the Weyrleaders. I mean, to you, ma'am. But I also didn't want to go silent all winter long and spring it on you then." The young woman takes in a long breath that exhales quite slowly, measured beats keeping her from shivering, "It seemed silly to start formal negotiations if it's not even a feasible project. You know?" The Weyrwoman listens with an open interest, easing back in her seat as she gives Ashe her full attention. By the end, she's smiling, "No, I appreciate you keeping us up to date." For she intends to share all of this with the Weyrleader, of course. "Makes sense, wanting to wait. It's all very interesting. And it would be good to give the more restless riders something to do. Something productive." Still not a decision, but certainly something that might inspire optimism. There's a brow furrow of gentle concern, "Are you cold? I mean, is it bad? You could borrow this old thing." Not so much a favor as a threat, given the monstrously ugly cloak. "I'm sure Bones wouldn't mind." Question is, can Ashe survive under its hideous weight? Ashe's fashion sense would shrivel and die with that, and that emotion is written all over her face. All over it. "Ahh....," she strives for polite at least, "I think I might have taken as much of your time as I should." Her fingers might also be turning blue, but what of it? "I just wanted to update you and," her gaze slips to that skull, "Do you think Hraedhyth," and that name does not trip off the apprentice's tongue easily, for sure, "Would mind if you ever had an extra one you didn't need or want, if I could have it for my room?" Pretty please? It's not said, per se, but Ashe's eyes have a silent plea in them as they look to Azaylia. At the sight of Ashe's face, Azaylia can't help but laugh, an airy giggle that she tries to hide behind her hand. Her smile isn't as bright as it once was, but it's still warm as she listens to the apprentice's request. "Really?" She sounds pleasantly surprised, "Do you have a preference? We have caprines, herdbeasts, wherries, tunnelsnakes-- those are from Don, my firelizard." By the sound of it, they have skulls to spare. "I'll see if Hraedhyth is willing to part with any. Ones she's forgotten." There's a rumble from the ledge that implies it'll be a bit before her rider can pull something like that. "While I think I'd prefer a herdbeast head, I imagine it's too large for my small space. An ovine possibly?" Even if it's not on the list, Ashe looks at Azaylia hopeful. "If you do, I would love having one to guard my room. The dark shadows of it always seem like they're out to get me and it would be," she pauses to consider the right word to use, "A conversation piece for those who visit." Azaylia takes a moment to consider the request, "I'm sure we do. She's fond of the bigger beasts, but I know I've handled an ovine head before." With a soft nod, "I'll look, later." When the gold dragon isn't as wise to such dastardly plans to steal from her morbid hoard. For now, she adds sweetener to her darkly brewed tea, smiling over at the apprentice. "It was nice speaking with you, Ashe. Keep in touch about the project, even if you think it's a small detail." Communication is always good. "Yes, ma'am." Ashe inclines her head and takes Azaylia's final words as a dismissal. "And thank you, for even entertaining my requests." Both of them. But it's so cold and her fingers are probably quite blue now if they weren't before, so off Ashe skitters back inwards through the council chambers to the records room she's vowed never to linger in, and beyond. |
Comments
Edyis (04:49, 26 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
Poor Azaylia, so many skulls. Even Don contributes! This was a fun read.
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