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Elaborate paintings and elegant tapestries hang on the walls of the vaulted hall, scenes of Weyr life both old and new depicted on them. Sturdy chairs, benches and well built tables are set all over the huge room, for the comfort and enjoyment of the spectacular view. Large window with ornately carved lintels are carved into the walls, protective shutters flanking each one, able to be close to protect from the chill of the night or the blustering of storms. When open, they allow any breeze, however slight, to blow into the Hall, cooling it off during the heat of the mid day. Centered along each wall, sets of double doors are inset into the walls, each ornately carved and polished to a deep shine, usually propped open to allow for better air circulation. The hall is always busy, no matter the time or heat of day, as weyrfolk and riders alike come and go to partake of refreshments and meals or simply to gather and talk on any number of topics. You see Shiny Brass Watermelon Trophy, Wineskin, Bebe, Persephone, and Isa here. Ilyassa and Eriol are here. Obvious exits:
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Black contrasts sharply with oh-so-pale skin, silken strands of ebon determinedly tumbling over dark grey eyes limned with eyelashes surely too long for decency. The softness of those eyes is belied by the rangy, lean body: Turns of work have shaped too-slender frame into some semblance of masculinity, adding sharp edges to shoulders and trim waist, yet bringing no bulk of muscle to defy that delicate appearance. Clearly-defined, however, are his features, sharp chin and straight nose adding a canny, worldly air to add the final complexity to his definition. Black, again, coarse and well-worn, hangs loosely from Eriol's shoulders -- a loose shirt, comfortable and light. Around the cuffs, simple embroidery appears, a light pattern of white-edged flower blossoms. Pants, too, are loose and comfortable, matching the shirt in both embroidery and color. Eriol looks to be in his late teens. |
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Long and slender is what first comes to mind when looking at Ilyassa, for in all things, she is just that. Her facial features are narrow and graceful, her neck lengthly as it dips into the small divot at the top of her chest bone. Her eyes are a dark green, their shape slim and slightly tilted up at the ends, her emotions usually visible in their depths. Her hair is thick and rolls like calm ocean waves, the tresses colored mostly dark blonde, but many streaks array themselves in lighter golds and ambers. Her height is slightly above average, muscles toned, curves inviting. She carries herself on long legs with an uncommon agility, her movements strong and purposeful. She's dressed in a rather plain dress of soft green cotton, it drapes over her body with healthy amounts of fabric and is cut in a simple A frame. Durable and dependable, it is a good garment for travel. Ilyassa looks to be in her late teens. |
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Peydra can hardly be accused of delicacy; at five feet nine inches, her form has filled out with the solid bulk of muscle. Broad shoulders sport the well-defined muscles considered far more attractive on men, and her arms and legs continue the pattern, built for sturdy functionality more than grace or charm. The slight flare of chest and hips confirms her femininity, but do not come close to dominating her appearance. Dirty blond hair has been close-cropped for comfort and simplicity; its natural curl is subdued by the short length. A few freckles spatter her nose, and vivid blue eyes reflect light and moods with equal ease. Silver and purple twine on Peydra's shoulder; the mating of threads into a declaration of position: Wingrider of Xanadu Weyr. The strand of brown that laces through the ensemble marks her lifemate's color. A light tunic of tan cotton has been loosely belted around Peydra's waist, just tight enough to avoid obstruction without granting her much shape or cutting off the brush of air against the skin underneath. Her pants are long but loose and thin. Her thick boots are the only rebellion she makes against the heat; supremely practical in their durability. Peydra looks to be in her late teens. |
No relaxation, no rest for Eriol today. Head propped upon one hand, the man scribbles upon a hide at a quiet table. Checking an entry on another hide, he sighs and reaches for the sand to scrub out an error. "I hate hidework," he grumbles, lifting bleary eyes to peer at the others in the large room.
Peydra comes half-skipping in from outside, shrugging off her flight jacket around the helmet already in her hands. Her cheeks are flushed with the paired color of exhiliration and wind, and water trickles down the back of her neck. She doesn't seem to mind. Her head bobs enthusiastically to Ilyassa, then her gaze flicks to Eriol. A faint smile quirks her lips. "Your own sharding fault," she informs the steward cheerfully.
"And that, of course, would be the reason you're dripping all over the floor that was /just/ cleaned? Ah, if one of the headwomen sees you..." Eriol replies, setting the quill aside with a vindictive glance at the inkpot. "But that probably doesn't bother you, does it? You scare all the headwomen, most likely."
"Oh, they're terrified of me," Peydra agrees brightly. "Think I eat children for snacks. But at least it means they listen to me, hmm? Pity you aren't a bit more intimidating, hmm?" She tosses her helmet onto the chair across from him. "Then maybe you could get someone else to do some of the gruntwork for you. That's what assistants are for." Her flight jacket joins the helmet. "All that's frightening about you is your face, and that's more prone to make 'em run screaming than stick around to listen. Fortunately for you, I'm a brave soul." And, this said, she thumps down into the seat beside her belongings.
Eriol chuckles owlishly, shoving the hides into a haphazard pile. "Oh, but I don't want to /intimidate/ them... I find that charm works perfectly well." And he's more than willing to demonstrate, flashing her a broad grin. "As for those shard-blasted things-" He waves towards the pile of hides. "-I don't trust any of my dear assistants not to make a mistake. If I make a mistake, I have nobody to blame but myself, this way."
"Ah," Peydra says sagely, "but that's your problem, not the fault of the hides." See? She can do wisdom, too. Sometimes. When she feels like it. "What's so important about them, then?" She wipes her hand on the dry front of her shirt before reaching over to finger the top one lightly. It's a firm motion, but slow: she will accept reproof on this.
"If you drip on them, I'll write that love letter..." Eriol warns, grey eyes wary. "They're tithe accounts, among other things. Like how many tunnelsnakes the kids have caught and how much they were paid for each one." A bit of a wry grin quirks his lips upwards. "They work much better when they're paid for it instead of it being just chores."
Peydra dried her hand, see? She drags the top record over to her, wrinkling her nose slightly. "Oh, fun." She grins suddenly. "Hey, better water than klah. Someone in here dumped cold klah all over the breeding records for the Weyr's herdbeasts a sevenday or so ago." Her finger trails down the list. "I used to catch tunnelsnakes as a kid, back up in Fort. Not too often, though."
Attnetion is drawn twords the rider and stuard pair, Ilyassa has been looking ofr importantish people, and they seem a step in the right direction, though she hesitates when her hearing perks on the conversation. Would someone of athority really be told hes got a frightening face? But as tythes and accounts are mention she is more sure of said persons lead role and she waites for an oppertunity to introduce herself.
"And I'm sure you went after the bloodiest method of doing so," Eriol remarks, leaning back in his chair. He deserves a break, after all. A mite of movement at the corner of his eye causes him to turn his head. Hmm. Pretty girl. "Come! Join us!" he calls, waving her over. "There are several free seats..." Add in a broad smile and a bit of Eriol-charm and sit back and wait for the results.
"Of course," the rider responds cheerfully. "I was in training to be a guard. Unofficially, of course. I was searched too young. But I had to learn to follow through on my threats somewhere. I honed my sadistic impulses on lower lifeforms." And it was all building for him. Isn't he lucky? Her eyes flicker again to Ilyassa, and she lifts a hand to sponge the water from her hair, offering a nod towards the chair beside her. "Yes, do," she invites.
Ilyassa blinks, supprised at the invite, but smiling non the less, "Um.. alright." she chuckles slightly and grabs her pack from the floor as she raises from her seat and walks over. Her expression is slightly hesitent, gaze flickering over Eriol, "Are you..." headwoman has already been mentioned, so that leaves, ".. the stuard here? Or an assistant?" might as well get right to the point. Flirtations are lost in her concern for proper permissions, but her smile still lingers.
"Of course, Peydra. I can't imagine you as one of those Ladies of the Hold," Eriol replies, quirking a brow at the rider for a moment before turning back to Ilyassa. "Yes, I'm the Steward. My name's Eriol; it's quite a pleasure to see such a pretty girl coming in from the rain... did you need something?"
Anki walks in from the entry hall.
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A longish plait of dark black falls unevenly to her waist as thick as her wrist, the uneven tips just-just above the curve of her behind. It serves to keep the abundant black strands away from a face ever so slightly oval, contrasting darkly against pale skin. Darkest brown eyes shine underneath perfectly curved eyebrows, shadows deepening them to black. They're placed an even distance away from a thinnish nose that arrows down to a smiling mouth, botton lip too full for perfection. She walks proudly upright, body tall and somewhat gangly with age. Still, enough curves persist to give her a slightly vulpine look. Fingers are long and thin-boned, callouses showing at the base of each. White and lavender coils exquisitely in this betasseled masterpiece of a senior journeyman's knot, Fort's twin colours lightly woven through it. She is draped in a long tunic dyed a wash of pale to mid-greens and comprised of generous pleats and folds, belted at the hip for dramatic effect. Greys, white, and silver coil around one another in a knotwork design around the neck and along the tunic's trailing edge. Its sleeves are snug at the upper arm and flare at the elbow, cunningly fashioned to imitate the practical. Slender calves are sheathed in conifer-green leggings crosshatched in a range of off-whites, klah-dark ankle-high boots beneath, the finishing beneath, the finishing touches on an entirely impish design. Anki looks to be in her early twenties. |
"Eriol? Oh, he's the Weyr's entertainment," Peydra contributes dryly. "We spend dozens of pleasant hours watching him and laughing our rears off." As the steward compliments Ilyassa, the brownrider snorts once. "Careful, oh dashing one. Don't frighten her off." She pushes to her feet and crosses over to the food table, claiming a mug and pouring some safely unfermented juice into it. Her eyes remain on the other two as she does so.
The corner of one brow lifts slightly at the compliment, and at the riders addition to it, perhaps flirtations arnt quite so ignored. But, shes not used to it, so she looks from one to the other before answering, again hesitant, "Thank you... and yes, I just arrived from the north and am looking for a place to stay for a little while. I was wondering if I might stay here?" the question posed to Eriol in all seriousness, a roof over ones head is rather important.
Ilyassa * yep, thats me. :P
"Faranth, it's as dark as the Red Star...." Oh. People. Watch Anki behave herself. She shakes the sodden scarf off her head and spreads it over a convenient peg in the wall before she approaches the hearth and the knot of people there. "Any chance of something hot? That storm cut off any hope of returning to Weaverhall today. Ah, Peydra. Hello." She peers curiously at the other two as hands stretch out to warm themselves.
Eriol's smile falters just a little as he turns back to Peydra, automatically reaching for a clean hide. "I'll just start that letter to T'on now..." he drawls, hand fumbling for his quill. That action is put on pause as he smiles at Ilyassa. "You'll have to ask someone else; I simply work here. As a /Steward/. Not the Weyr Fool." Oh so mature.
Peydra crosses back over to steward and petitioner, her gaze flicking away as a bluerider in one corner raises his voice briefly over a game he is playing with one of the Weyr's handimen. Anki's greeting zaps the brownrider's attention away, and her expression blossoms into a grin. "Anki! It's good to see you again. I'd heard you were spending a bit more time at the Weaver Hall?" She completely ignores Eriol's threat. Water off a firelizard's back. Again. Still.
Ilyassa frowns ever so slightly, "Ahh, well.. who is the headwoman then?" she looks from Eriol to the rider and healer, someones got to know.
Eriol frowns at Peydra's back, absently pondering whether or not to stick his tongue out at her. Ah, too immature a notion. "And here I thought I'd have some peace and quiet while working on my hides..." he comments, reaching for his things. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go finish this stuff."
Eriol exits the room for the smaller entry hall.
"Headwoman, headwoman...can't remember who theirs is at the moment. How're you, Pey? Still soaked from the rain? And Kinzhalth?" Anki turns to discreetly present her derriere to the hearth. "Yes, the fortunate Hall. I'm holed up there for a while, at least until I've collected the new Fortian consignment." Bright back eyes turn on Ilyassa. "New from the North, eh? You picked an atrocious time to arrive on Southern."
Peydra jerks her thumb in Eriol's direction as the steward leaves. "He wants peace and quiet," she says dryly, "so he comes to the living caverns. The brilliance of that boy will never cease to amaze me." And Peydra is all of six months older than he, so can call him boy. Her gaze slides to Ilyassa. "Um, I don't think she's the right person to talk to, either, really. You probably want to snag the Weyrleader, Weyrsecond, Weyrwoman... someone like that. That's -- Faranth, nevermind. I take it back about the Weyrleader. Talk to Kym or Elisa, maybe. That's the Weyrsecond and Weyrwoman, respectively." Her lips twithc at Anki. "Kin and I are great. I'd be better if it weren't for that spoiled waste of flatulance who's been named our steward, though."
"I don't know, he looked cute enough. I take it the two of you don't get along that well." Slipping a bowl from a stack of clean ones and nicking some savoury stew, she settles on a nearby chair and hoists heels up to rest on the cross-strut of the one opposite. "You know what they say about opposites attracting. Enough of that though. Tensions here any less with your new 'weyrleader'?" A veritable smirk. Poor S'tan.
OOC: Anki says, "Urk. Sorry. :)"
"He's an arrogant snot," Peydra makes the ruling. "All of them. All /three/ of them. Eriol tried to sharding dictate my affairs, S'tan has no concern for anyone's contentment but his own, and M'lan -- M'lan should get over his own sense of self-worth and go back to Fort where he belongs. He's not helping anything." Neither is Peydra, mind, but she's rather good at selective blindness.
This is better than listening to the drudges gossip for a whole sevenday. "I'm sure it'll smooth out somehow. It's probably only something to keep them busy until summer rolls around again. Face it, there's not much that we can do out there, so you're more or less stuck with them. And with M'lan until the eggs hatch, right?" Anki does /not/ want to be in Peydra's shoes. "If it gets too bad, come and visit me at the Hall. I'll drag in another bed, Kinzhalth can hang in the garden and we can talk about the old days. Just like two crotchety Aunties."
"Maybe I should request a transfer or something," the brownrider grumbles. "Fort Weyr may be stricter, but at least you sharding know who your Weyrwoman and Weyrleader are from day to day. None of this sharding flinging of knots into the air without any idea where they're going to land." She sinks into a chair and takes a sip of her juice.
Anki laughs softly before she sops up a a chunk of meat on a piece of flat bread. "I don't know. It definately keeps the Weyr boiling and cuts down on the clothing costs. Perhaps my Hall should direct a petition," she teases softly. Further words are firmly stoppered as she chews.
Peydra snorts, but doesn't comment, her eyes on the glass in her hand. Her eyes shew up, and she flips back a conversational topic or two to ask: "Why is it that every man on the sharding planet assumes you want nothing more than a hot body in bed? Either you want them, you're going after some other guy, or you like women. What's wrong with just... not liking..." She trails off for a moment, then delicately fills in her pause with: "It?"
Blink, blink, chew, /swallow/. Don't choke now, Anki. She washes it down with a gulp of your juice before she sighs. "I don't know. Perhaps they want to prove that they're needed? Perhaps they can't understand why you don't want to, so they make you out to be something weird. Dunno." She hasn't lived long enough to answer that one for herself.
Sigh. Peydra tilts her head back a bit to stare up at the ceiling. "Insufferable prat," she says. "I will sic T'on on him. Somehow. Or... Faranth, I dunno. Who would /you/ least want to... think... Um." She pauses, reordering the words in her head. "What one person would be the worst to deal with if he thought mistakenly you were in love with him?"
Persephone chirrups her answer to Peydra's question from the rafters. Sadly, it doesn't translate well to human-speak.
"Someone that's in love with you but too proud to say it?" Anki punctuates the sentence with a stab at a piece of gravy-covered tuber. "Either that or someone that really, really hates you. Why do you ask? You think Thingy thinks you're in love with him?" The fork waves vaguely. "You know. The guy that just ran out."
"/No/!" Peydra responds, instantly and with real surprise. "Faranth, no. Last time we talked, I slapped him in the face." And kissed him, but she's not mentioning that part. Let gossip do it for her. "No, because I was threatening to forge a love letter to T'on in his name, and was debating whether T'on was really the worst choice."
Kym traipses from the central hall.
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Curls spiral in wispy strands of sun-kissed blonde, naturally pale ringlets mildly floating to near-shoulder length in an out-grown rider's crop. Wisps escape semi-orderly tresses, framing the woman's heart-shaped face, dancing 'gainst light-skinned cheeks; twin cerulean orbs shine above, often restless, sharply intent, insatiably curious. Peeling red tinges pale-toned skin, now, remnants of an incessant sunburn garnered from Southern. Palish lips curve haphazardly into a charming smile while an impish nose -- slightly upturned -- rests in place above. Trim, to the point of boniness, her slight frame is shapely, none the less; short height and slim stature are nothing if not beguiling as veiled athleticism reluctantly tones wiry muscles to more than they might seem. Xanadu's purple and silver intertwine to form the triple-looped knot of a Weyrsecond, a singular tassle dangling. A darkly verdant ribbon of green threads through the doubled cords, signifying Kym's lifemate, Gwyneth. Leather, leather, leather - wherhide covers every spare inch of Kym's body. Ebon adorns the woman's slight physique, bordered with crimson. Midnight jacket is slightly long, lined with fur, while the pants are anything but baggy; in short, the leathers are sensible. A high collar is lined with fur as well, while buttons shimmy down the front. Belt loops for straps circle her waist, lower pant-legs tucking into calf-high boots - also trimmed with burgundy-dyed fur for warmth. Kym looks to be in her early thirties. |
Anki pauses to ponder that thought. "Seems like. Unless you really want to give him the death blow and send it to Sabria instead. However, the way knots are flying around here these days, he might just end up being Weyrleader and souring your life even more." Another pause for the next mouthful.
Elisa steps gracefully from the central hall.
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Silver frosts the copper and gold of her hair as it brushes the nape of her neck, waves and curls more telltale with the short length. Tiny lines crease the corners of large, deep indigo eyes, a hint of exotic in their slight tilt. Skin a dusky bronzen hue, it also hints at a bit of weathering. Soft rose red kisses her lips, brushes her cheeks, in natural coloration. Grace in her bearing is spoken in the way she carries herself. Callouses upon her slender, long-fingered hands tell of her familiarity with labor most would consider beneath her station. Equally, shapely legs that give her the sometimes foreboding height of 5'10", her demeanor softens a potentially imposing aire. The twining of purple and silver, the colors of Xanadu Weyr, is outshown by the vibrant ribbon of brillian red gold woven between, the multiple loops and tassles representing her position as Senior Weyrwoman. Cut from the vibrant heart of midnight, inky wherhide coats the long body of the goldrider, the darkness countermanded by asymmetrical coils of solar flares spiraling up her arms to her elbows. Shimmer obsidian embodies the legs of the flying gear, blending into flames that spin up to her knees from the mid-calf jet and gleamingly polished boots. Unblemished onyx take in the snug gloves and riding helmet that complete the ensemble. On a thin chain, a gold pendant in the shape of a flying dragon clutching a faceted red stone hangs, glittering as it catches the light. Elisa looks to be in her mid thirties. |
Peydra snorts. "Oh, right," the rider says. "After all, you don't need to be Xanadian to be Weyrleader these days; why in Faranth's name should you need a dragon?" Her lips twitch into a brief smile, and she takes a long sip from her juice.
Elisa angles a dark look towards a certain brownrider but says nothing at present, getting a glass of wine instead of klah this time.
In steps Kym, entering the hall from one of the adjoining corridors at a fairly languid pace. The others are spied, and the greenrider nods cordially enough before advancing towards the sideboards; she tosses out a general greeting for those present, too. "Hey." Then, as Peydra's comment is caught, the Weyrsecond peers around, eyebrows quirking. "What're you complaining about?" she inquires mildly.
Anki lifts a hand in recognition of those that just stepped in. "Elisa, Kym. We're just talking about knots and stuff." She turns to her tablemate again, longlashed eyes outrageously batting. "If that's so, I'll apply for the job too, how's that?" Just think. Weyrleader Anki. It's every Weyr's dream, surely!
Elisa? Peydra's eyes snap around briefly, catching the arrival of both Weyrwoman and Weyrsecond. She swallows once, then slides her gaze away, a wince more visible in her eyes than anywhere else. "Um... so, how's the dyeing going, Anki?"
Ilyassa had quietly sunk into the background, the conversation between brownrider and weaver sounding like something she'd rather not get her nose into. But as someone with a complicated knot enters she stands and meanders over twords the Weyrwoman. This has got to be the woman she was told to talk to, and Anki's greeting confirms it.
"Which job might this be?" Elisa asks Anki mildly as she finds a seat nearby unoccupied by human or flizzen and sits in it. Thankfully for Peydra, Ilyassa's approach gets her attention. However, instead of Elisa's usually warmer welcome, she merely says, "Yes?"
"Oh. I see." Kym doesn't, really, but isn't about to admit that. Skeptical, the greenrider turns back to her meal preparations and absently pushes stray locks of blonde hair from her face. Eventually, she settles on only klah and, this time, pivots more carefully while puffing at the steaming beverage. Her seat? A table itself -- no chairs, for Kym.
Anki wiggles her eyebrows at Elisa, but thankfully, any further commenting is drowned out as she applies herself to her stew. What /excellent/ stew this is. So safe and nonvocal.
Jyfer walks in from the entry hall.
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Jyfer is approximately 5'5. She has brown shoulder length hair with blonde and red highlights from the Southern sun. She has grey-blue eyes that are the color of the sky before it snows. She has a dark tan showing she has been living South for quite sometime now. She has a dimple that shows on her cheek when she gives her common smirk. She speaks with an accent that many who don't know better would place her from Fort, but it has a slight drawl in it which would account for living in the borders of Fort's neighbor Ruatha. She has an average build which shows she eats well, but leads an active lifestyle. Jyfer is wearing a faded shoulder knot of violet and silver that shows she is a Xanadu Weyr Resident. Jyfer is wearing a grey tunic that goes to her mid-thigh. The tunic is of a soft silk like material that accents the soft greyness of her eyes. It is slightly baggy but doesnt do much to hide Jyfer's more female features. It has an intricate design of blue thread around the neck line in the shape of dragons, and thicker cloth at the shoulders for whenever Breeze or Mischief decides to land on her. Jyfer is wearing a blue leather belt around her waist and attached to the belt is her dagger and a small grey pouch. She is also wearing soft baggy blue wherhide pants that go down to her ankles, and blue wherhide boots under the pants that go to midcalf. Jyfer looks to be in her early twenties. |
Ilyassa hesitates yet again, not wanting to interrupt, "Pardon me Weyrwoman, I just have a simple request.. well, sort of. I just arrived here from the nroth and Im looking for a place to stay for a little while. Im wondering if it would be alright for me to stay here." again she does her speil, hopefully this time she wont be pointed to another person.
At Anki's lack of response, Peydra drops her attention to her fruit juice, contemplating the glass with an attention for too intense for its contents. No brownrider here. A greenrider, a goldrider... but no brownrider.
Jyfer walks into the hall, knotless still. She glances around looking for the object of her search. She gulps and looks at the floor, before raising her eyes back to the Weyrwoman and taking a deep breath.
Elisa's attention is given to Ilyassa for the moment, but the others in the room are in queue to be spoken to (or at, depending on her temper). "From the north, hm? Long way from here. Lots of water between. Must've been quite a trek down here. Where are you from, lass?" she asks. There is some moderate note of civility.
Kym, for her part, is content to silence for the moment. Feet swing idly as she perches on the very edge of the tabletop, apparently seeing just how far she can go before the opposite end of the structure lifts and dumps her on the floor. Her klah is tested with one fingertip, and a small grimace is thrown at the bottom of the mug: too hot.
Still, it might be interesting to see if Anki can make Elisa laugh, at least. Clearing her throat and eyeing Peydra and Kym for a moment, she states, "I was just thinking, Elisa. Seeing as everyone's breaking out in knots all over, I could volunteer my services as Weyrleader." A lazy grin. "I even do my own paperwork. Promise."
OOC: Anki says, "Dat was me."
"D'you know?" Peydra murmurs to the weaver. "I think I ought to be displacing myself. Rather severely. Right now. Um... I'll talk to you later, okay?"
Ilyassa smiles, not all that intimidated by athority, "Yes it was a long trip, but I hope it will be well worth it. Im from a small cothold near Benden..." a slight pause as she debates weather or not to volinteer more info or refrain from bouring the Weyrwoman, but she decides to continue with a simple, "A small cothold that was threatining to become a big cothold with out the expansion of extra rooms. I thought it best to find my own place." she smiles friendly like and leaves it open, if Elisa wants more Ily is open.
Elisa was listening to Ilyassa, but is momentarily distracted by Anki's words. The weaver is blinked at several times and a Look is given to Peydra. Mm hm. "I think Zivath would be awfully disappointed," she replies mildly. No dragon. Who would she torment? Back to Ilyassa. "I see. Well, if it is for a short while, we always have room under our roof. If you wish to remain for an extended time... I hope you are familiar with hard work. Everyone earns their keep here." Idle hands will be found something to do.
"As long as you do your own paperwork." That's Kym's one requirement. She rolls her eyes, then states, "Lucky for you, we've got M'lan to do it." Which, by the way, Kym is completely happy about. She's not known to enjoy S'tan's company in the slightest. A faintly amused look is shot towards Peydra -- she heard those murmurs. Then, attention briefly slides over to the goldrider, and she sips from her klah.
Jyfer gulps again and walks to where Elisa sits, keeping her eyes averted. "May I please speak to you Weyrwoman?" she asks, voice trembling as she stands in front of the woman who threw her out a sevenday ago.
Anki nudges Peydra's foot underneath the table. "Come on, stay. It might just get fun." The weaver has a notably twisted sense of fun sometimes. A mock-serious nod to Kym. "Pwylth can keep Zivath happy and I'll do the work. It'll be an arrangement made in heaven." She reaches for the nearest pitcher of juice, eyes flicking to and fro to locate a clean cup.
Ilyassa nods to that, "Im more than willing to do my share even if I only stay here a short while." she grins, "I'd get awfully bord if I just sat around all day, chorse are welcome at this point." she tilts her head slightly, "Who would I speak to regarding that though? I havent been able to find your headwoman."
Peydra winces slightly at the nudge and shakes her head almost imperceptibly, giving Anki a Look that is at most a distant cousin of Elisa's. It is fraught with significance, though -- it's just rather difficult significance to read. "Um. No, I mean I /really/ ought to move..."
"And you actually /want/ to do the work?" Kym questions, almost incredulous as her focus shifts back to Anki. "I haven't heard /that/ in awhile." The woman snorts, muttering something under her breath that most likely has to do with certain bronzeriders who either skimp off on their duties, foist them on innocent, well-meaning greenriders, or use blackmail to get what they want. Kym's gaze moves on to Jyfer, and a frown transpires upon her visage before, dismissive, she remarks, "I wouldn't let her if I were you, Elisa."
"You will stay right there, Brownrider." Wow, and Mom wasn't even looking, either. Look is given to Jyfer and she says with patent annoyance, "/You/ will respect that someone else has my attention and sit down and wait," she tells the once-stablehand flatly. Kym just gets a dirty look. Maybe she'll just let the Weyrsecond explain to the water sprite that her mate is being replaced with a foreign model. And back to Ilyassa. "From up by Benden, hm? And our headwoman is somewhat difficult to find now and then. Our Steward would likely serve just as well. Eriol, if you can find him." Even she has troubles finding some of the staff around here. "Are you at all familiar with weyrlife?" she wonders of the girl.
Jyfer nods, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her. She backs up and goes to sit at a table by herself, eyes focused on the floor still. She bites her lip nervously and waits.
Peydra flinches slightly from the command, her cheeks heating faintly. "Um. Yes'm," she mutters, her eyes dropping back down to her hands.
"Daft Anki, that's what they call me," Anki cheerily informs Kym. Still, with as fine a sense of hearthside entertainment as any other, she silences and turns so that her field of view includes the Weyrwoman and the two girls. The cup is idly raised to her lips, eyes scanning Jyfer.
Ilyassa glances over as another approaches the Weyrwoman, keeping quiet and simply taking in the reactions to Jyfer, Peydra too. Very interisting here, and the question asked fo her hits right on that spot, "Not... quite." her gaze flickes to the riders present, then back to Elisa, "I've never lived in a Weyr before, but I havent herd all bad things." she smiles slightly, more to herself, "Im not quite sure why I came here instead of the hold side.." she shrugs, "Just did."
Kym is innocent, really, and a vaguely wide-eyed look is shot back towards Elisa before she belatedly remarks to Anki, "I think that Pwylth's probably taken up with Fabrinath right now, anyhow. Let Masagoth appease Zivath -- he's good for something, even if he's rider isn't." Kym has absolutely no compunction about slandering S'tan, and even does so while quirking a small grin.
Fingers drum on the tabletop next to the wineglass that is set down lightly. "Masagoth's rider is my /weyrmate/," Elisa growls and angles a quelling look at Kym. Don't insult her man, no matter how annoying he is. She has not had the chance to whip him into shape since getting the fancy-dancy knot. It'd been chaos since Fabrinath was turned into a green for a short while. Ilyassa is attempted to be given cordial attention, but /certain/ personages seem to delight in making that a lot more difficult. "I'm sure you've heard some interesting enough tales you just want to see for yourself what the insanity is like." She smiles faintly. "Well, until you decide for certain, there are some guest beds in the dorms in the southern corridor," she says, pointing towards that door.
Peydra's jaw tenses slightly at Kym's statement, but she says nothing. She is in quite enough trouble already, really, and getting the Weyrsecond mad at her seems somehow redundant, given that both the greenrider's superiors have reasons to be miffed already.
Jyfer continues to sit at her table. She finally raises her eyes to glance around the place that was one her home, clenching her jaw as a few friends walk by. They stay well away from her presence, barely evening nodding an acknowledgement that they saw her. Her eyes then go to the table in front her he, staring at the grain marks
Anki has the gene that tells her when to leave well enough alone. It does so now, prompting her into a modicum of silent reflection on the state of hearth-toasty toes. Eyeing the swirls her juice makes as she rotates the cup, it seems to have her whole attention.
"That doesn't mean that he's good for anything," Kym shoots back to Elisa, resisting her silencing with both words and an irritable expression. "Or that I have to like him, just because you do." She does subside, however, after getting in her say and returns attention to her klah; it's more interesting than former Weyrleaders, anyhow.
Ilyassa nods her head and takes a step back, growling is definately something she doesnt want to be involved in. Its not fear though, just respectful distance. She smiles once more, gaze again flashing to the riders present, "Im sure I will see that and more." then to Elisa with a more somber and grateful smile, "Thank you Weyrwoman, Ill just go claim a cot with my things." and convenitenly get out of the way. The culdron is bubbling in here and she would rather not get burned so quickly.
Whamba walks in.
|
Whamba is a short, blonde-haired, brown-eyed male. He has a small but muscular body. His hair shines in any kind of light and is almost to his ears. His ears are not big but not small. His arms are skinny and his legs are strong and short. He has freckles on his nose and over his cheeks. His nose is small and narrow, and his mouth is also small. A grey shirt with black trousers with holes at the knees, and new leather boots. Whamba looks to be in his late teens. |
OOC: Elisa grumbles Phone
Ilyassa makes her way out...
Ilyassa has left.
Terac walks in.
|
He is tall with pale whiteskin. He has blonde hair combed neatly accenting his exceptional good looks. His pale blue eyes reflect teenage happiness with a touch of sadness. On his left hand rests a small scar suggesting faulty knife work and clumsy fingers. His sly smile rests upon his dashingly handsome face. He has small wiry shoulders and is as thin as a rail. His hands look strong and his ears are keen-looking. He has a little bit of muscle on him but not much. Also, his smile never fades no matter what happens. He is wearing a plain black tunic with black pants. He is also wearing a pair of plain black boots. Upon his shoulders is a black cape with silver fastenings. He is also wearing a small (1 inch) pendant of a dragon made of silver. The pendant is tied on a black cord around his neck. Terac looks to be in his late teens. |
Terac says, "Does anyone know of any firelizard hatchings?""
"Faranth, Kym..." Peydra's voice, which could have been sharp, comes out pleading instead. "Can't you people keep this to your offices or something? This isn't making it easier for anyone, and it's making it harder for most people. S'tan pops to mind as one example."
"Lizards? Got plenty of them pests. Don't need no more," a drudge tells Terac in passing and goes on her merry way.
Terac says, "Does anyone know of one""
"Nice girl," Anki comments in Ilyassa's direction as the gel turns to gather her things. She lets Peydra and Kym wrangle out the S'tan issue, more intrigued in the happenings between Elisa and Jyfer. Terac gets a vague smile and a look in passing, but back goes her attention to the matter at hand. This ought to be interesting.
As Ilyassa escapes to the relative safety, and Peydra and Kym are pointedly ignored, Jyfer becomes the focus of attention now. "So. You came back," she states tonelessly.
Whamba waves,"Hello." Looks at the people here and notices Anki,"How are you doing today?"
The corners of Kym's lips are tugged downwards in response to the brownrider's query, and she glances over after swigging from her mug first. "It /is/ a Weyr issue," she points out. "And, personally, I don't see why it's hard -- change for the better, if you ask me." And Kym is, after all, one who ends up spending lots of time with however ends up filling the position.
Jyfer gives a slight, respectful nod, making her way back to where Elisa sits. She gulps and rubs her arms, gazing at the floor. "I..uhh.. I want to apologize for my atrocious behavior a sevenday ago." She swallows loudly. "I had no right to speak to you in such a disrespectful way."
"No, you didn't." Anki has to get her two marks in the purse somehow. Whamba's greeting, however, disrupts the attentive, if interested scowling at Jyfer. "Ah..fine. I just hate the wet weather. And you?"
"Well, all it's doing," Peydra points out, her voice remaining quite remarkably even, considering, "is making divisions. This constant knot-tossing has got to be related to the fact that everyone is this place seems to be doing their best to make the people running this place feel like they have no support and less goodwill behind them." She doesn't look over at Elisa, but... brownie points? Huh?
Whamba smiles,"Oh I'm fine, sorry to interupt you guys. A proper introduction would be nice Anki."
Elisa won't argue with that statement. "No, you did not," she replies curtly. "You were getting above yourself. Assisting the herders is one thing. But you are /not/ a herder, and I think Lasarah's fellow crafters would be rather disturbed to think that I was trying to allow our Weyrfolk to take over their duties." Must be good neighbors. Arms cross and she looks over Jyfer. "Don't you agree?" she asks.
Jyfer nods. "Yes Weyrwoman, you are right... they would be, and I know I overstepped my bounds...In fact I think a leaped over them, which was a very stupid thing to do." She scuffs her boots on the floor and runs a hand through her hair nervously, still looking at the floor.
"I disagree." That statement is put mildly -- too mildly, considering Kym. Whatever else the greenrider was about to fire off at Peydra is kept on hold as she is distracted by Elisa and the resident who isn't a resident any more; Kym peers over, punctuating her lapse into silence with small slurps every now and then.
A random word from the conversation behind her catches Anki's ears long enough to yank her attention there. "Oi, he's not that bad. Arrogant and pigheaded and rude, but not /that/ bad."
"Is too," Kym stubbornly puts in for Anki, narrowing her eyes at the weaver who dares stick up, even somewhat, for S'tan. "/You/ don't -- didn't -- have to work with him every day."
"Well, neither -- " Peydra bites the words off sharply, wincing visibly. Erm. Time to retreat from the conversation. The brownrider's knee abruptly becomes very, very interesting.
Elisa just looks at Jyfer with a hard look. "Common sense did not seem to enter into the equation, no." Kym and Peydra are definitely ignored. Anki is offered a look and a half hearted smile. She looks rather entertained at the least. "What should we do wtih you, Jyfer?" she asks dryly. "Considering my total inadequacy as a leader," she states loudly, perhaps directed towards some other ears? "I don't know if I am capable of just punishments."
Anki gives Kym a serene She who shall remain S'tan-less smile. "Long time ago. He's probably mellowed since then. Still, what can I say? You're welcome to hide out at the Hall as well. It'll be a bit cramped in my room with three of us in there and I'm not sure that your green and Peydra's brown will fit in the garden together, but you're welcome to try."
K'les saunters in from the entry hall.
|
K'les is of average form, medium of height and build, though her few turns as a rider has trimmed her form to the athletic side. Wide set eyes are bright with intellect and humour; little escapes their notice. A dainty, well shaped nose, fine lipped mouth and a firm chin, all set in a heart shaped face, combine for a subtly pleasing effect. A light tan across her cheekbones and nose, and a smattering of pale freckles add color to her fair skin and emphasizes the green in her darkly hazel eyes. Curly chestnut hair with highlights of sun-streaked gold frame her face in a short cut, and a long thin braid, woven with Pfelth-green cloth and tiny bells hangs from the nape of her neck. K'les' shoulder knot identifies her a Xanadu wingrider, Garabaldi wing. Kells is wearing an off-white full sleeved gauzy blouse, embroidered about collar and cuffs with an intricate floral pattern in burgundys and greens. A loosely woven vest with matching floral pattern is worn atop this, and her battered canvas beltpouch hangs loosely at her side. Close fitting moss-green leggings are piped with tan up the outside seam, tucked into soft, calf-high Pfelth-green leather boots. K'les looks to be in her mid twenties. |
Jyfer gulps a bit. "I was out of line to say that Weyrwoman, you have managed to keep the Weyr running for quite sometime, and you did a good job of it too. And no, I must admit I had no common sense at the time. I am willing to do anything to be allowed back, /anything/." She glances at the floor again, keeping her gaze focused on a nice crack, better then an angry Weyrwoman.
Whamba goes home.
"That," Kym states sourly, "will never happen." The mellowing bit. The offer is turned down with a faint smile and shrugged shoulders, along with an explanation. "He's gone, anyhow --" From the position, not the Weyr. "-- and I don't have to deal with him anymore. But, thanks. I'll keep it in mind if the need ever arises."
K'les slides into the hall, pausing to peel off her wet flight jacket and to shake the water droplets from her hair. "Ick." Faranth forbid she get /wet/, I mean, she could melt or something. Hmm. Quite a crowd here today... she makes for the sideboard, and finally decides on a mug of ale.
Anki grins at the lot of you. Mission accomplished. Bowl wiped clean with the last chunk of bread and that swallowed, Anki stands as she pats her mouth clean. "My thanks for the Weyr's hospitality. I wonder, could I use one of those guest cots as well? I don't fancy returning to the Hall just yet, it's raining too hard."
"Really?" Elisa asks Jyfer with a note of disbelief. "Mmm. I will keep that in mind." However, it does not seem that Jyfer is being let off the hook so easily. "Sit. I need to consider this." She smiles wanly at Anki and nods. "Of course, Journeyman. There's always a spare cot for you here." Sorry, no cute male type riders. Those are extra.
Anki will just have to do without. Waving, she heads out for those cots, nodding to K'les.
Anki has left.
Jyfer gives a brief nod to Elisa, then pulls out a chair on the other side of the table, sitting across from Elisa. She folds her hands, resting them on the smooth wood surface, focused on her crossed thumbs.
Peydra continues to stare at her knee, silent and frozen for the time being. Alas, the Weyrwoman does not seem to be in a forgiving mood, and thus the brownrider practices her subservience. She's not very good at it.
Kym awknowledges Anki's departure with a small bob of her head. K'les catches her eye, then, and the greenrider offers over a short, informal greeting: "Hey."
"You're telling me.I near drowned out there..." K'les comments, then does a double take as she actually sees the speaker. "Hey Anki!" She moves to join Kym as Anki departs, which, curiously, leaves her with a good view of Elisa and Jyfer. She'd heard about that confrontation...
Terac goes home.
Madailynn glides in from the entry hall.
|
Short tight curls swirl around and consume this fair skinned girl. Bouncing when she moves, and bouncing when she's still. Claret they are, melding with a soft color of topaz to take a bit of the bit from the short locks of color. Eyes, large optics that can't be ignored, even when a stray ringlet decides to show up. Orbs of hazel, bronze, and cinnamon, all blended together in a swirl of shimmering color. Slender face, slender body, everything about her making her look like a child, nothing helping her to look her age. Height only bringing to a scant five feet two inches, not a centimeter more. And by the looks of her she couldn't weigh more then, not much anyway. A new outfit had to be made once she figured out just what her calling was, and by the look of it, this outfit is definitely new. Miles of cloth seem to whirl about her body, rose, ruby, and a pale cream, all of which collide to make the perfect arrangement of colors. It's a dress -- for only she would never be caught wearing anything less -- one of the finest you can have made. And how the Nanny got it is even more a mystery then why on earth she wears such a thing caring for all the messy brats. The collar of the dress makes her more then modest, curling up he neck and then out in a thin - almost translucent material - sleeves are made of the same stuff it seems, stopping at her wrists for a few more ruffles. Elegant she is, but not overly so. It just looks as if she thinks she's better then everyone else, and she honestly thinks she is. Insanity perches on Madailynn's shoulder. A ring of gold and silver sits upon her finger, time seems to have claimed said ring, marring it with spots of tarnish and wear and tear here and there. Beautiful, and meaningful, no matter how you look at it. A very hesitant look draws deeply upon her face... very wary to be back in the place she started out so many turns ago... Almost afraid... Madailynn looks to be in her early twenties. |
Elisa gets up from her seat and goes to stand in front of Kym. "Look," she states in a firmly controlled voice. "I don't care if your eyes bleed whenever you look at S'tan. You are Weyrsecond. If you can't display enough respect publically for the Weyrleader--and that Fortian interloper is /not/ the Weyrleader...." She says it so casually, too, letting her words drift off. "However, I am sure the stress of the change of leadership has been affecting how the other riders behave as well." Seeing what they can get away with and making life more difficult for wingleaders and weyrleaders alike. "He /had/ been pulling his share of the work. If you both are unable to balance it out, then /I/ will take up the slack. We do not need any /out/side help." She looks at Peydra.
It couldn't be! It just couldn't, but in fact it is. The Head Xanadu Hold Nanny makes an appearance, poking her head into the great hall before pausing, running her hands down her dress and sliding the rest of the way in. Madailynn looks a tad on the wary side, perhaps even a bit scared if one could pick that up. Either way the Nanny just walks in, chooses a seat away from most and slinks into said chair, eyeing the Senior Weyrwoman quietly. Maybe she's too busy and won't spot Madai? For now her inquiry--the reason she's even /near/ the weyr--is kept quiet as watching seems a much better thing to do at this time.
Jyfer looks over at Kym, smart enough not to change the stone expression on her face. No need to incurr more of the Weyrwoman's wrath. Instead she merely turns her gaze back to her folded hands, waiting for her turn...which she knows shall come.
Keiden walks in from the entry hall.
|
Keiden is a young man evidently in his late-teens, apparent in his height and scruffy, unshaven facade. His blocky facial shape is offset by raven-black locks of hair, the back grown long enough to keep in a small runner-tail. Despite all attempts at keeping the front and sides trimmed, a thatch hangs down over his forehead, nearly obscuring a curious pair of hearty eyebrows. Hardly unattractive by any measure at 6'2, he effects a 'devil may care' attitude, oatmeal-colored shirt with rougishly flared sleeves and dark trousers tucked into a careworn set of boots. Somehow, Keiden carries himself with a shy sort of dignity; one forged from his natural lone-wolf tendancies. A massive twenty hands high and finally out of his akward years, he's not so much a striking figure as a very sturdy and solid one. Eyes the color of a rich, luminescant, violet are in constant distracted motion; Somehow more striking than any of his other features. Keiden looks to be in his late teens. |
Peydra, always adept at reading signals, picks up on the Weyrwoman's gaze and meets her eyes squarely, though with a bit of genuine trepidation. Her attention flickers ever so briefly to the door, then back, a silent query in her expression.
Ok... maybe this wasn't such a great place to sit after all. I mean, K'les wants to be up on all the goings on, but she doesn't necessairily need to be caught in any crossfire. K'les just hides behind her mug of ale and looks straight ahead. Yep. Better to not make eye contact, in her opinion; Elisa might attack. The tiniest of waves is sent Madi's wave as the hold nanny makes a somewhat surprising appearance.
"Thanks so much for your concern about my health," Kym replies, sarcasm edging her tone. She sniffs, then and states, "He's the one who tossed the knot -- I'm sure that if you ask /him,/ he'd probably say that he isn't Weyrleader. You'll never manage to get him in sight of that office again." The next bit is negated with a swift shake of the woman's head. "You've got your own duties -- and it /was/ getting done." With plenty of yelling and threats, maybe, but Kym is wise enough to leave that part out. "It's just getting done quicker, now."
Jyfer has learned discretion this last sevenday, and sits like a runner with blinkers, focusing on her hands. Her greyish blue eyes run over the calluses and scars, the memories they bring of her turn's struggle to get here, and her 2 turns of work here. Her happy life here, all thrown away in a stupid fit of anger, shards she didn't even care what the Weyrleaders do or don't do. Her eyes roam to the table top, memories going to the many happy times she spent in this hall with her rider friends, and nonrider friends alike.
Terac walks in from the entry hall.
Elisa offers the barest of smiles at Kym. "Care to make a wager on that?" she asks dryly. But doesn't wait for a reply. She looks at Peydra and nods once. "Council chambers," she states and heads towards the main corridor herself, knowing the brownrider would not dare not follow. She can see that in the younger rider's eyes.
Elisa has left.
Peydra follows obediently to the Weyrwoman's command.
Peydra walks out.
** [To see the RP of Peydra and Elisa, go HERE.] **
Madailynn is seen, or at least caught sight of by K'les and a visible wince is given before she reaches up to brush back the ruby ringlets that dance silently around her head. As Elisa leaves, Madailynn takes a deep breath and reaches up to wipe the growing beads of sweat from her brown. "I'm not even going to ask... I'm just going to say why I'm here... Hey K'les, you seen T'cerin around? He hasn't been by the hold in several sevendays and I'm worried." Well wouldn't you be?
Kym probably would have bet on it, if Elisa had stuck around long enough. As it is, the greenrider hops down from her table and, abandoning her almost empty mug, strides off towards one of the other hallways without bothering to voice her farewells.
Kym has left.
Jyfer watches as Elisa leaves, and makes a slight face. Well she said to wait here till she got to her. She crosses her arms and rests them on the table, the lays her head on her arms, waiting for her turn to come.
Keiden waltzes into the hall, whistling an out-of-tune melody under his breath. Making his way to a nearby table, the tall man seats himself in an offhand manner.
Terac leans against a wall and just relaxes for a while
Ok. It's safe to move now. Releasing a pent up breath, K'les makes her way over to Madi and slides into a seat. "Haven't seen him right lately. He's around though." She runs a hand through her still wet hair, grimacing.
Keiden sends Vincent winging off his shoulder.
Dianuo walks in from the entry hall.
|
Very few people can be exemplified by a single feature or two about them, with Dianuo however, it's gotta be the hair and eyes. His chestnut locks are fairly wild in the front, thick bangs that have a tendency to fall over his eyes, but what is really different about the honey touched mane is the fact that he wears it long, very long. Braided into a thick long tail, it hangs down off the nape of his neck to almost waist level and even longer when undone. His eyes have character all on their own as well, not too many people have eyes that match the color of violets, and they are exactly that unusual variation of blue. Not to mention that his eyes are a bit on the large side, lending to the over all impression of youthfulness on his rounded face with the slightly snubby nose and arched high cheekbones. He's slightly built, a lean, athletic sort of figure that looks like he might hopefully acheive another growth spurt in his future or he'll be doomed to being about 5'2" for the rest of his life. A simple loop of red and white on his shoulder marks him as a Smithcraft apprentice. It looks like Dianuo has a certain liking for the color black, though it undoubtably makes him too warm sometimes. The long sleeved outer jerkin is utilitarian, simple but sturdy, sometimes rolled up to the elbows. It buttons up the front, though he usually wears it partly open where there is a contrasting shock of red from the shirt beneath, a crewnecked top that looks to be a heavy woven cotton. A broad wide belt about his waist holds many loops where pouches and perhaps a beltknife can be fastened, though at the moment all it does is hold up his leather trousers. The pants are formfitting except around the upper leg and knee, ballooning slightly as if they were riding style, just a bit more room to flex. His calf-high boots are somewhat battered and old, also in a trademark black, but they seem to pick up dust so often that they look slightly grey. Dianuo looks to be in his late teens. |
Jyfer raises her eyes, hearing another enter. She gives a soft sigh though, not seeing the Weyrwoman, but a smith apprentice. She rests her head back against her arms, wating for Elisa's return, even if she must wait days.
Madailynn seems to grumble quiet loudly at that. "He was supposed to come to see me /sevendays/ ago. He promised that he'd come see me." The small Nanny almost whines before getting a rather stubborn look upon her face. "Well fine, if he doesn't want to see me, he doesn't have to." A near growl falls away from her lips as she reaches up with her right hand to tug /hard/ on the ring upon her left ring finger. For several moments the young lady struggles with it, attempting to pull it from her finger, but it all is in vain. "Shards and shells!" There goes that idea.
Keiden perks up at the cussing, peering over in the direction of the nanny.. Yes, color him a shamelessly curious eavesdropper. Snagging a meatroll, he's got little else better to do. Keeping the scrolls gets rather lonely, after all.
Terac walks out.
Dianuo peers through the entrance to the hall, wide violet eyes just taking in all the elaborate paintings and tapestries that hang through the giant room. Curiousity eats him alive as he walks in, uncertain of how much leniency the Weyr has on visitors as he steps in. New to the area, he isn't /quite/ sneaking, but there's a certain flighty bounciness to his steps as he comes on in and checks out all the people, a broad grin decorating his face and his long braid of hair swishing at his back. "Oy! Hello all!" he says pretty boldly as he heads towards the tables. What is that in the air? Food? It lures him closer as he sniffs and tries to stifle the growling in his stomach. He had lunch already, honest!
Lasarah walks from the central hall.
|
Thick chestnut hair falls in waves down Lasa's back, reaching nearly to her waist, framing her oval face with soft tendrils she's forever pushing off her cheeks. Large grey-blue eyes are wideset above a slightly upturned nose, her full lips usually pulled into some expression that betrays her current mood. Although small in stature, her form is womanly, and the hint of muscles speak to the physical labor of her craft. She moves with an almost innocent femininity, seemingly unaware of any effect her fluid moves and quick and brilliant smile might have on others. Yellow and white cords are twined with silver, identifying her as the Weyrherder of Xandau, rank, Senior Journeyman She wears a knee-length white tunic of a linen/wool blend, cut to flow comfortably over her ripening form. The long, loose sleeves cinch down at the wrist, in bone-buttoned cuffs embellished with an colorful band of embroidered flowers. More such flowers circle the scooped neckline before plunging down the front of the tunic to spread out around the hem. Under this final band of embroidery, soft blue trousers disappear into worn but well-kept brown leather boots; the boots show signs of polishing, despite the traces of stable muck clinging in the more hard-to-scrape creases. Sly perches on Lasarah's shoulder. a pair of tiny golden earrings that sparkle softly in the light Lasarah looks to be in her early twenties. |
Well you know, his wing had been doing the far sweeps for the last little while. He's probably been tired. K'les shrugs as she offers a possible explaination. Always the diplomat, this one. "You could have come over any time, you know, to see what's been keeping him." She sits back, taking a draught from her mug. Mm. "So what's new with you, anyway? Haven't seen you for a while."
Jyfer raises her head, hearing the footfalls of another. Her face colors though seeing Lasarah. She quickly ducks her head back into her arms, trying to avoid catching the Weyrherder's attention at this particular moment in time. She continues to sit in the seat she was told to sit in, still waiting for the Weyrwoman's return.
Lasarah ducks into the Hall, damp hair on her face, a bulky sweater wrapped around her frame. Her head is down and she shivers as she enters, more focused on something warm to drink, but her eyes raise as she hears K'les' voice. "Hey," she calls softly to the former herder, then her face brightens as she sees Keiden. Jyfer is ignored for now. She'll get that one later, after she's warm, dry and feeling more up to dealing with her.
Madailynn bobs her head quietly. "I definitely think that four turns constitutes as a while." She pause, blinking amber eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "And I doubt I'll be 'dropping by' anytime soon. I'm busy and..." And she is deathly afraid of the dragons around this place after all. She doesn't mention it took her a near candlemark to get her as she attempted to hide from every dragon that 'passed by'. "New with me? Nothing really. The most recent events in my life is that I ended up with this pinkish firelizard." Insanity--who was curled up cutely in slumber upon her shoulder is pointed to. Ew. Pink. "And Ty and myself got back together after four turns..." But that was quite a few months back. Ooh, gossip!
"Hey Lasarah," K'les grins, lifting an arm in greeting. Her glance falls on the subdued Jyfer before turning her attentions back to the somewhat distraught Madi. K'les is not one to be the last to hear gossip, nope. "Yea, I'd heard about you and Ty. You know, you should come over here; the weyr could always use another nanny..." She winks, knowing full well of Madi's fear. "Hey, I know what's new... you're my sister's new boss!"
Keiden waves over eagerly at Lasarah, all but jumping out of his seat to go catch up to her. "Lasa! Hello!" To the new face, he casts a lopsided grin and a wave, always the jovial and friendly sort.. "How goes?"
Madailynn's cheeks alight with just a little bit of red before they die away and the ring is once more tugged upon. It's not coming off! "I didn't think he had really told anyone else..." Shoulders then rise and fall into a shrug before she continues onto the next line of 'business'. "Your sister? Who would that be? Avicia?" She's the newest Nanny after all.
Jyfer continues to sit, pretending to be part of the table. That way people won't look at her. Nope, nothing to see here folks, just the knotless wretch who dared to be insolent to the Weyrwoman. She gives a slight sigh, eyes turning to gaze at the stone wall across the Hall from her, trying to distinguish the different figures on the tapestries.
Terac walks in from the entry hall.
K'les waves a hand dismissively in Madi's direction. "It's not easy keeping secrets around here you know. Dragons are awful gossips." Now /that's/ the pot calling the kettle black. "And would you /stop/ that?" She swats at Madi's ring tugging. "You're going to dislocate your finger!" She glances over her shoulder, noting Lasarah's exuberant greeter curiously. "No, Padeena's my sister. Have you met her yet? She's alot like me, you know? Very shy, kinda quiet..." Right.
Terac says, "Hi"
Lasarah is all smiles for Keiden's exuberant greeting, pausing for him to catch up. "Oh, so good to see you! and so good to be somewhere warm and dry!" She nods a little greeting towards the table, then raises her brow at K'les. "Like you, you say? Does she have a penchant for cutting up dead creatures?" Just the person to be a nanny ... hmmm. Jyfer is pointedly looked at, but she turns away again. She needs to hear the story from the weyrwoman first.
Madailynn clicks her tongue about in her mouth before putting her tugging hand in her lap and folding it over the ringed one. "I will not..." But nonetheless she stopped and that's all that mattered right? "Padeena? Ah, yeah, she's new and I haven't seen her all that much. I have quite a few 'sstants now so a few of them come in less often as others." Pause. Wait, did K'les just call herself shy and kind of quiet? "And K'les... you aren't shy or quiet." If she was Madai isn't afraid of dragons!
K'les looks up at the tall blonde fellow. "Uh, hi."
Terac says, "Hi""
Dianuo bounces himself towards the tables and sort of heads towards the source of the smells. He heard he could catch a bite over here without causing a fuss and so he nabs himself a few meatrolls just to tide him over till dinner or something. Catching a wave at the corner of his eyes, he turns and waves back, grinning from ear to ear. "Hi there, don't mind me. Just feeding my face if no one minds? I hope no one minds, I don't mean to sort of poach or anything, but I was told I could leave the Hall and take a look around, so I was just exploring and all and got really hungry, so I followed the smells and ended up here." Yes, he's babbling a blue streak, not really caring if Keiden is actually listening or if anyone else is. You get the feeling that he might keep aimlessly talking, unless someone redirects his attentions.
Murkat walks in from the entry hall.
|
A young man in his late teens. Red, straight hair falls across his face slightly covering one eye. He is constantly pushing it out of his face, but it never seems to want to stay there. Intensely examining everything around him are a pair of deep green eyes set into a face full of freckles. He has that tall, athletic build about him of one that is always on the go. A yellow and white knot circles his shoulders, signifying that he is a Herder Apprentice. He is wearing a blue tunic that is just a little short in the sleeves and grey wherhide pants with a pair of boots tucked underneath. The clothing is not new but is apparently in well kept condition. A blue cloak is tied around his neck and thrown back over his shoulders to reveal a silver necklace in the shape of what appears to be a small flame. Murkat looks to be in his early twenties. |
K'les can't help it. Her eyes follow the garrolous fellow as her crosses the room. Oookay... was it her, or were the holders getting stranger everyday? She gives her head a slight shake as she turns back to the waiting Madi. "Joking. I was joking... " Grin. "Padeena is a lot like what I /used/ to be like, if you want to believe /that/." K'les shrugs. "I grew out of it. Don't know if Padeena ever will..."
Jyfer is... a table. Head resting on her crossed arms, her body moves only with her rythmatic breathing. She startles awake though at some noise, or even her own fear of Elisa walking in to her sleeping. That would be /bad/. She glances around again, focusing on the drinks others are sipping. Shards that would taste nice, but she can't leave this seat.
Madailynn's shoulders once more go up into a shrug. "Well, I'm sure she won't be for long with the kids we have 'round the hold." Pause, blink. Eek, she just remembered where she was. "Um... yeah, but if you see T'cerin, tell him I came looking for him... for now I'm going back to the nice safe..." Voice drops. "Dragonless hold." Before she rises up, waves to K'les and skitters on off as lady-like as she can manage.
Terac says, "Bye"
Terac has disconnected.
Karasa walks in from the entry hall.
|
Soft strands of light brown hair flow down the apprentice Herder's back, the braid-crimped waves often delicately framing her slightly tanned features. Her hazel eyes are deepset in their sockets, seeming lit from the inside, the greens, browns, grays and even a few hints of blue seeming to shift around each time the are gazed at. Her torso is slender, well muscled, the chest well formed and full, supported by hidden undergarments. Her arms and legs are long and muscular, her frame finely-boned yet not entirely delicate. Her feet -- if ever seen out of her boots -- are long and as carefully shaped as the rest of her. A softly woven blue tunic covers this apprentice Herder's full top, barely going down to her waist and always rising up to show her flat belly when her hands go up over her head to search a high shelf, or to muck out a stall--lots of twisting involved there you know--or when her twin brother tickles her--brothers always seem to know the other siblings weak spots, don't they? Her legs are covered by an all purpose set of wherhide tan trous, tight fitting to prevent catches on nails or a splintered rail. Protecting her feet and calves are a pair of wherhide riding boots, a dark brown, almost black shade. On her shoulder a double-corded strand of mingled yellow and white clings. A single loop indicates her current status: Herder Apprentice. Karasa looks to be in her late teens. |
"Wait, I'll come with you." K'les rises to follow. "It's about time I went to see Padeena anyhow, see how she's making out." She gives a discrete wave to Jyfer (poor girl), and a broader one to Lasarah before catching up with Madi.
Madailynn pauses, waits, and then bobs her head before sliding out of the hall... "Just as long as your green doesn't get near me." She states before disappearing out.
Madailynn exits the room for the smaller entry hall.
K'les exits the room for the smaller entry hall.
Karasa walks into the Great Hall, something tucked close under her body and she shakes herself off, water flying, and then shakes the papers out as well. "Of COURSE Eden would want me to deliver papers on runner genology in the middle of the Monsoon season," she says and then shrugs. At least knowledge will be shared! She spies Lasarah, walking over to her. "Lasarah," she pants. "Eden sent me over with these papers for you," she finishes, waiting for her response.
OOC: Lasarah sorries - but will have to idle for about 10-15 min.
OOC: Karasa says, "Oh, drat."
Jyfer smiles slightly seeing K'les look, then smiles even more seeing Murkat. Perhaps a safe harbor she will find with him here, in the fury of Elisa's storm. She raises her hand in greeting, more acknowledgement in the last few moments then she has given anyone since taking this seat.
Murkat smiles as he sees Karasa, another herder appy. "Hey Karasa," he calls with a wave. Turning back to the table, he searches out a clean cup and grabs a pitcher of juice. Seeing jyfer's smile and wave, he slips out of his seat and onto the bench across from her giving her a grin in the process. Why is she over here by herself muchless at the weyr at all, he wonders.
Karasa nods to Murkat, smiling softly, and waiting for Lasarah to pay attention to her. She frowns, and decides to take a seat while she waits, and one by the hearth to dry herself, and perhaps her papers, off.
Dianuo's ramblings trail off as he pauses to take a bite out of the meatroll, looking around at the sudden quiet with a shrug. Munching away, he starts exploring the hall, sticking his head through the different exits and looking through to where they lead with unabashed curiousity. It's a good thing he does look so much like a kid, standing at all of 5'2" as he bounces from one corner of the hall to the other with the occassional exclamation of appreciation for this or that. It's a good none of the exits lead to anywhere actually private, or there might be some screaming at that. He comments to himself almost with completely unchecked blitheness, "Wow, this is a big hall, bet those tapestries are really old though. Can't believe something this old is still standing and all. Wonder how many people are around. Hmm, wonder where these hallways go? Right into the mountain or something? Real cool, whoa, those are big windows, wonder how the get them open and closed, they're so high up." *mumblemumble*
Jyfer smiles at Murkat, gazing at him across the table, then averting her eyes with a soft sigh to stare back at the table. "Ye bett'r not be seen with me right now Mur, ye may get removed from thr Weyr."
OOC: Lasarah says, "I'm back"
OOC: Karasa says, "YAY!"