Leylia of Fort Weyr

Quiet

2006-07-27T05:09:23Z

Quiet
Place: Nighthearth
Players: Leylia, J'tei
Current date: Day 10, month 2, turn 443.
Synopsis: Leylia comes across J’tei and a few words where exchanged.

Nighthearth

Players:
Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.
J'tei..........6'2" with a strong build. Reddish-brown hair, blue eyes.

J'tei looks guilty once more, an aura he's been sporting a lot lately. As penance, he takes another bite of the very untasty pastry and broods.

Moving quietly down the narrow tunnel, Leylia slowly makes her way towards the nighthearth. Stopping about haftway as she hears the voices of the two riders, the woman slows her pace even more to give the two weyrlings as much time before she arrives. That being so, the woman comes into view just as I'neph leaves and moves straight to the stew pot and grabs a quick late dinner, before turning to the bronze weyrling. "Life is never easy is it?" Leylia says quietly as finds herself a seat.

Making a grossed out face, J'tei forces himself to chew and then even swallow the mouthful of burnt dessert. "Nope," he answers with a glance toward the new arrival. As ungentlemanly as it might be not to share, he's too nice to try and foist some of that food off on Leylia. "At least it's quiet."

Digging into her food, Leylia keeps to a slow pace as she eats her stew and bread. "I guess so. Quiet was always something I treasured growing up." A few more bites are taken as she indulges in a small smile for her pass. "It must be a nice change from the barracks..." Fishing for conversation she may be doing, the woman keeps her tone neutral in case the weyrling doesn't want to talk.

"Got my own weyr now," J'tei explains, chuckling very quietly. "And a plant to put in it." He leans down, picking up the little houseplant on the ground next to his foot and giving it a bemused shake of his head. "What in shells am I gonna do with a plant?"

Leylia gives a sideways look at the plant to is put on the table. "Do you know anything about gardening?" The woman asks with a bit of amusement to her voice. "Do you mind if I get a closer look?" However, the woman doesn't wait for an answer before she is standing up and moving towards the weyrling's table.

J'tei says quickly, "No, I don't. No-- you can't. I'm sorry, it's nothing personal. I just have to go to bed." He picks up the plant, and the sweater, and the scarf, and the plate of unpalatable pastries, and he stands up. "It's been a long day, and I'd normally stay and be company for you. But yeah. Long day." And he has a bunch of stuff to deal with.

And Some Things Stay the Same

2006-05-18T17:52:28Z

Place: Lake
Players: Leylia and R’mi/Nwandoth
Time: 11:11am on Day 27, month 7, turn 442
Synopsis: Leylia runs into R’mi and have a friendly chat along with meeting Nwandoth for the first time

Lake

The more habitable and friendly-looking end of the bowl, near the lake is where one finds the greenery of the Weyr. The lake itself takes up about a quarter of the bowl floor, making it about a quarter-mile long and quarter-mile wide, though irregularly shaped. The water is sweet and clear, kept clean by algae and the like. A fence at the western edge pens in the feeding grounds, which boast a trodden ground of grass and even a pair of large trees. Just northwest of the lake are the weyrling barracks, and just south is a small herb garden used by the kitchens. Near the garden is a wide, gradually sloping tunnel that leads through the walls of the bowl to eventually exit the Weyr - a path traditionally used by tithe trains.

The traffic near the lake is on par for late morning. The sand is warm in the summer. Though the water itself is always warmed by the Weyr itself, it seems cooler and more pleasant in the summer. White, waxy-leafed lilies float on the surface of the lake.

R'mi- A tall, broad, mountain of a man with brown hair, orange-brown eyes, and fine clothes.
Leylia- 5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.

R'mi emerges from the barracks, a thoughtfully distant smile on his face. Nwandoth, on his stubby little legs tries his hardest to keep up with the man's long strides and though it's obviously tiring on the brown's part, there's little more than determination to keep up written in his movements.

Dirt smudged and whips of hair falling into her face; Leylia has the normal look that she has after long hour of work in the garden. Moving slowly as she walks from the garden gate, the woman looks like she is enjoying her day. R'mi's appearance out of the barracks has her drifting his way and stopping with in talking distance of the man. "Morning, R'mi." His name comes out hesitant as if she is unsure of it but her words get stronger after that. "I hope I would run into you eventually."

R'mi pauses, looking back at the direction of his addressal. A slightly more outward smile crosses his lips as he finds the source to be Leylia. Nwandoth gives a small snort as he stops at R'mi's feet, placing one foot on top of one of R'mi's boots. "You know.. you're one of the few people to actually say hello since Nwandoth came into my life. Then again, speaking hasn't been high on the list of priorities come lately." A subtle sobriety to his tone only vaguely tempers good natured demeanor. "How have you been?" A deliberate change of topic though none the less pleasantly said.

Leylia shifts the basket she is carrying to one hip as she smiles brightly at he brown weyrling. "Really, then I should make a point to come by more often. Not that I think you will get lonely with your fine gentleman there, but some non-weyrling company may be in order." Turning her head slightly to the brown at R'mi's feet, she gives his a pleasant nod. "And good morning also to you, Nwandoth, I hope R'mi isn't running you ragged already." With her greetings done, she turns her head so that she can watch both males in front of her. "Me? Oh, doing fine, I was assigned to the Garden Management by Raine not to long ago, so I have been there most of the time. How about yourself?"

R'mi chuckles quietly. "Oh yes." His eyes dropping to the brown with subtly veiled affection sweeping his features. "Never ending with the questions." Nwandoth just stares up at Leylia, no noise from him. "As difficult as it may be to believe." R'mi tacks on as he flicks his attention back to the woman. As if responding to a soft mental prod, Nwandoth emits a begrudging sort of snort to signify that he did indeed hear her say hello to him, but that's the end of it as the staring continues. "Er, don't be offended. He's really quite talkative, though.. only with me it seems." R'mi gives another light chuckle, "I've been as well as can be expected. Perhaps even better. I should, perhaps, be a bit more anxious about the entire situation but it's rather difficult to become too upset about any of it when I have Nwandoth. Granted there's always the future to fret over.. but it's the most extraordinary feeling of completeness that I've never had and always thought was over the next rise. Turns out," the man actually giving a broad, genuine smile, "That it wasn't on the same path at all."

"I am glad that you found your /something/." Leylia says with a proud smile for the ex-lord heir. "I am not offended at all. I am just happy that he makes you happy." Her eyes drift towards the brown once more before she chuckles ones to herself. "I should be thanking you, really. It is because of you that I am graced with your lifemates presence for at least the next few months and now he doesn't have an excuse not to visit old friends when he leaves." Her eyes twinkle a bit as she looks sideways at Nwandoth's rider as she talks but her words are once again directed to the little brown.

R'mi shrugs, "I may yet get to have my cake and eat it too. It all depends on where the cards fall. It'd be a shame to lose my life's dream if only for the 24 turns of preparation it encompassed. Then again, I have several new avenues open for exploration that couldn't have even been considered before." No response from Nwandoth. Atleast not any that she would be able to detect. R'mi on the other hand gives a light lift of an eyebrow shortly following Leylia's comments to the brown, a reaction to something said where only he can hear it. "In anycase, I'm glad I get to stay a bit longer. The Weyr's become much more homey than I would have guessed. Even if I've had to sacrifice my quiet space for the noise of a large cavern full of people and young dragons. I'll certainly be of a habit of visiting in the future should things fall into place properly."

Leylia listens to her companion with a thoughtful look on her face. "I really do hope it all works out in the end for you." Shifting the heavy basket once more, she replants her feet before talking once more. "Thing sure are far from boring around here to say the least."

R'mi chuckles lightly, "Even if it doesn't, it never hurts to have a goal that may be impossible to reach. It motivates a man to do their best." As to the latter, he nods lightly, "Indeed. I'm hard pressed to name a moment in time when I've felt more emersed in organized chaos. Perhaps when things have settled in abit I can trouble you to sit with me at breakfast? Since I'm still quite the oddity, even in the course of the female impressions. And it would be nice to be able to keep more intellectual company. I believe I'm the elsdest among the weyrlings."

"You don't even have to ask." Leylia says with a smile, "I would look forwards to it as I have lately been sharing my breakfast with no one." Shifting the basket one last time, this time it ends up in front of her. "And as much as I like to finish the conversation, I really should get these to the cook so she can start preparations on dinner." She pauses for a second. "Maybe I will bring you a plate later on tonight and we can finish our lovely chat?"

R'mi nods, "That would be lovely. Perhaps on the patio." Nwandoth has yet to waiver from his unsettling habit of staring.. though his attention has slowly drifted to stare out at the lake as a whole. Occasionally sending a question to R'mi, who seems to have already picked up the habit of answering without saying anything aloud.

Leylia chuckles lightly as she notices the brown's stare. "It is a date then. Now I will let you be on your way so your lifemate can go for a swim." Hosing up the basket once more, she gives the to males a nod good-bye. "I will see you two tonight." With that the woman continues on her way towards the original destination.

Creature of Habit

2006-05-02T03:06:30Z

Place: Herb Garden
Players: Leylia and Romian
Time: 6:24pm.
Current date: Day 4, month 6, turn 442.
Summary: Romian comes across Leylia working in the garden, and they get to know one another better.

Herb Garden

A very small plot of land has been reserved for the kitchen garden. It covers no more than 100 feet by 100 feet, tucked along the wall of the bowl near the lake where water is easy to bring and where shade is available for the more tender plants. There are about ten rows of various herbs here, at bloom or dormant during different seasons. Just off to one side, a set of steps carved into the wall of the bowl leads to an adjacent, slightly raised patio.

It's evening in the summer. Most of the herbs are in full force, and the air has the distinct smell of basil and oregano and mint.

Players:
Romian.........A tall, broad, mountain of a man with brown hair, orange-brown eyes, and fine clothes.
Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.

While autumn is the normal harvest time for most growing things, things in the herb garden are bloom most year around. Currently, the smell of basil and oregano and mint radiate along the path that Leylia is working on. Down on her hands and knees, her apron and face is smudged with dirt as the woman weeds and pulls out the herbs that are ripe for the picking. Her task is daunting and the former Ruathan is hard at work.

On a bit of a stroll, Romian's hair is still wet from his most recent washing. And, as has become his custom since the onset of the planting season, his evening attire is as impeccably clean and pressed as possible. One must make up for being dirty the rest of the day, yes? He doesn't seem in any particular hurry though a brow lifts delicately as he notes Leylia. "Dedicated to be working into the range of dinner." A light comment with a thin shade of humor. Though considering his rather dry manner it may go unnoticed for it's jest.

"It's dinner already?" Leylia says in the same dry manner as she pulls a few more leaves from the basil plant in front of her. "And here I was so hopping to watch the dramatic scene between the wonderful players of this weyr." Turning her head towards the Lord Holder Heir, the woman's thin lips curl to a semi-smile. Her eyes make a quick once over the nicely pressed man causing her to shake her head slightly. "Going on a hot date tonight?" She teases the gentleman.

Romian gives a brief nod, "Indeed. The dinning hour approaches. Of course it really does depend on how late one wishes to stay up.. Hmm." A flicker of a smile, "Date? Goodness no. What could I possibly want to go on a date for?" Though the suggestion does bring a light chuckle out of him, "I find that being exceptionally clean is it's own reward. Just like the layer of sweat after a hard days labor. Both good. And I'm lucky enough to get them both in a single day."

Wiping her dirty hands on a cloth she has in her basket, Leylia slowly groans a bit as she straightens her back from her hunch over position. "And here I thought that a date between two mutual people that like either for who they are would be just up your line of thought." The assistant headwoman says with a small smirk to go with her dry but witty banter. "Though I do have to agree with you on the other pair, nothing is like cleaning up after a hard day of work. I just not use to one cleaning up so pressed."

Romian chuckles, "I am merely a creature of habit. Once I've established a routine it's very difficult to break. In this case.. I have a bathing routine. Which.. undoubtably takes far more time than it would take anyone even reasonably sane to execute, but alas," A smile jumping to his lips, "I just wouldn't feel 'evening' clean if I didn't go through all the steps properly." Joke? Perhaps yes. Perhaps no.

Whether or not Romian's comment was a joke or not, Leylia cracks out a large smile that pulls her thin lips even tighter and it seems to catch the woman off guard. "You should teach Lord Jarvis that little trick about being 'evening' clean; he never could learn that with out being prodded into it." Once she realizes what she said, the woman beings to ramble a bit on more. "Then again, not many younger men like to take time to clean up when it takes time from their /play/."

Romian lifts a brow lightly at the comment about Jarvis' hygiene but his expression slips back to a casual (respectively speaking) politeness, "How a man chooses to express himself is little in the way of control for anyone else. One can only display all the desired actions and hope that they will be modeled." There's one of those harper teaching strategies if there ever was one. "Mere expression of an order leaves little in the way of growth opportunity. Much like changing the drapes rather then getting a shutter on the window."

Leylia turns her head a bit more towards the Lord Holder. "Look who got all philological on me and about hygiene, none the less." The woman also returns to that dry humor before her slip of the tongue. "But I have found that as men get older, they start to take pride in their looks as much as any female." She goes quiet for a few moments as a few silent thoughts cross her face. Her next few words are said in attempt to get them both on that causal almost friendship ground. "Either way, you clean up very nice."

Romian chuckles, "It's all that education. Creeps up from my belly and ejects all over everyone at any chance. I'm cursed with being overly verbose." In response to her last comment he dips his head politely, "Well I would hope so. I've been told I can't even look untidy when covered in dirt. Though I'm not sure as that's a good thing or not." Though he is unfalteringly proper in posture and general body language, he does atleast give the impression of amiability in general conversation and subtle inflection of voice. "The more pressure one feels on themself, the more they wish to beable to withstand scrutiny. That's what I've devised anyway. It has little to do with gender so much as psychology."

“As for whether or not gender as anything to do with the pressure once has when it involves keep yourself up kept. Females have it much worst than men, especially if you are big in the looks department." Leylia’s voice turns a bit more sarcastic with that last bit but it is only there for the briefest of moments. "A good marriage is the goal for most holder women and if you don't have the look to attract young men to you it becomes increasingly hard."

Romian nods a little, "Well that's true. Though it does tend to sway with the pervading standards of beauty and the uselessness of the man." Smirking just faintly as he gives his piece. "I've always found that the commonly considered 'beautiful' woman has very little to offer and expects a free ride. Then again, what I consider to be a beautiful woman and the slip of a child that seems to be the status quo are very dissimilar." He gives a light shrug, "And the better marriage prospect you present the more women throw themselves at you, and it's rarely anyone I'd consider attractive."

Leylia nods as a hint of a smile cross her lips as she sly looks up at the man. "And what is it that you consider attractive?" The question is clearly far from serious by the tone of her voice and that fact is emphasis by the fact the blue eyed woman continues on with out waiting for an answer. "True. I guess that there isn't much difference between a man and a woman when it comes to marriage. Both have to wade through the suitors to find one that loves and wants them for who they are. And if they cannot they are stuck with whatever comes their way."

Romian gives a short scoff, "Yes." Comes their way.. or gets issued them. Whichever you prefer. "But it only takes a bit of effort to find something worthwhile in another person. You merely have to be of a mind to look." Inherent good. Yadda yadda. High minded nonsense. "In anycase, it not something to fret over. Everything will turn out as it should in the end."

Leylia makes a eek face as Romian reply has him scoffing. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring that up." However, the rest of his words have her cocking her head in empathy. "I am sure it will work out that is." But that is all she says on the matter, as she pauses to stands up to face the man face to face. "So how was the planting today?" She ask in attempt to change the subject.

Romian nods lightly, favoring her with an amused look, "Excellent as always. I've grown myself a set of callouses even. No more sore blistered palms for me. I must say it's the most inclusive exercise I've ever embarked on. And useful to boot. In general I'd say it was a fantastic idea and I'm glad I was allowed to pursue it." Chuckle, "I can't think of anyone else that would allow a Lord Heir to labor like any other man trying to earn his keep."

"Earn your keep." Leylia says with a chuckle and even looks impressed by his callouses. "It is good that you have found something you have enjoyed to past your time with. I wish everyone would be that lucky." Then she frowns for a second. "Allowed? Are you going to be leaving any time soon?" Her voice drops low as it has a tinge of disappointment in it.

Romian ahs is a lightly thoughtful way, "Well originally.. I was going to be returning to Fort Hold as soon as I finished my evaluations but.. now that I've involved myself a bit I've decided to wait until the planting is complete. And Weyrwoman Raine has kindly agreed to let me stay on." Chuckle, "Of course the problem would present itself in Lord Monroe growing anxious for my return. That was however, easily curtailed by a letter asking if I could stay on until the hatching and meet the new Weyrling before I returned. Which I think, should give me ample time to.. well be as normal as I can for a while longer."

Leylia again gives the gentleman a sly smile. "Well, you can be as normal as you want around me even if you have to take a watchdragon to get here." A joke maybe, but she follows it up with another knowing smile. "It has been nice to talk to someone that knows who he is and isn't caught up with all the drama that is going on around here." She pauses for a second. "I am glad that you can stay even if it is for a little bit longer."

Romian shakes his head, "Oh I have little in the way of confidence in my depth of knowledge about myself. I merely have turns of philosophy and hides to fill up my head. And a most terrible habit of being a stick in the mud." This statement quickly chased with another light smile. "I'm most glad I can stay a bit more myself. The change of scenery has really done wonders. It's as if I've learned how to breathe properly for the first time. Or maybe it's the lack of the familiar coutiers and various holdstaff following me around to see to my fancies that I enjoy. A man can only take so much in the way of unthinking affirmations of anything he's said before it gets a bit.. much."

"Well, at least you are good looking stick in the mud. You have that going for you, at least." Leylia jabs back at the Lord Heir, then she reaches down to pick up her heavy basket and slides it on her arm. "Well, you will not have to worry about me following you around trying to impress you with my knowledge of your fancies and I have been known not to give unthinking affirmations. In fact, my foster mother always said that my mouth would get me in trouble." Rearranging a few things in the basket, she prepares herself to leave and gives the brown eyed man a friendly smile. "Well, if you every need someone to talk to, I am around. It has been a pleasure getting to know you as you are getting to know yourself. And I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor to find your true self."

Romian dips his head to her politely, stepping his large, though spry, self as out of the way of her path as possible. "Which is, of course one of the main attractions to be here. People say the most ordinary things to me." Yet another smile strikes across his features, "Have a good evening Leylia. Perhaps I'll trouble you with my company again soon."

Leylia moves past the Lord Heir as he moves out of her way. "It would be my pleasure, Lord Romian. And I will be looking forward to it." A quick nod and smile is given to the gentleman and the woman, dirt smudges and all, is off to bug someone else with her witty remarks.

Woman and Dirt

2006-04-12T20:54:55Z

Place: Living Cavern
Players: Leylia, Romian, and Vester
Time: Just a bit after dinner time (forgot to record +time)
Summary: People gather for a late dinner and have a wonderful dinner conversation about each other roles in life.

Living Cavern

Huge, still mostly the natural shape of the bubble cavern that formed it though embellished with intricate columns, the living cavern is large enough to seat over two thousand people at any given time. But it has fallen into a state of disuse, for the most part. There are long gaps in the room where tables must have been at one time: Now, there are only twenty tables - each with space for twenty-five people - left in the room, where once there must have been closer to eighty tables. They are all gathered near the northeastern wall where the largest of the room's four hearths are. The rest of the space seems bare. There are a few smaller tables to seat five or six people scattered randomly throughout. Though there is easily room for twice as many, and still many bare swathes of wall that should boast tapestries, there are only three hangings in the living cavern, and all of them are small given the grand scale of the cavern: Two are Fortian brown with the black "Fort" symbol on them, and the third is a light brown field with a brownish-bronzish wing breaking out of the shell of a single white egg. Up a set of handsomely carved stone steps is the Weyr's large kitchen, wrapping around balcony-style with a view into the cavern.

Dinner is over now and the food has been put away. Those seeking food have adjourned to the kitchen or the nighthearth, leaving the cavern mostly empty. It's late in the evening in the spring. The fire is kept low in the hearth to keep out any lingering chill.

It is night in the early spring. There's not a cloud in sight. Timor is invisible tonight, a new moon, and Belior is a waxing crescent moon in the clear night sky. The temperature is about 39F, 4C.

Dinner time rush has come and gone leaving behind only a few stragglers and those that like to take there dinner late. Leylia just so happens to be one of those people. Briskly walking in from the bowl, the woman takes off her cloth and hangs it on the wall before making her way over to the serving table. Quickly and quietly, the dusty eyed woman makes her plate and finds herself a seat where she can watch the comings and going of the weyr.

Romian is freshly washed and adorned in 'appropriate dinner attire'. Which would translate to his usual upscale dress. A point of interest though, he seems a bit more tanned than normal, and the subtle euphoria of working oneself to exhaustion all day is present in his eyes. Walking into the living cavern, he seems slightly distracted, caught up in gently rubbing sore palms togetheras he approaches a serving table.

Vester comes out of the inner caverns. He's not dressed upscale, although his hair is damp and he doesn't smell as much of numbweed as he normally would. Which would be as close as Vester gets to 'dressing up for dinner'. He heads for the food table...the same one as Romian.

"Good evening, Lord Romian." Leylia calls out towards the Heir as he makes his way through the room as she slowly makes her way through her merge meal. "I hope you are finding everything you need." Vester's entrance is also noted but she lets the boy gather his plate in peace for now."

Romian is stirred from his reverie at Leylia's addressal, turning to look at her and nod, even smile pleasantly. "Even things I wasn't aware were so vital, Assistant Headwoman." Cryptic. But then again he's acting a little odd anyway. Turning to neatly fill a plate and gather a mug of klah, he nods a polite greeting to Vester. Though his posture and presentation are as polished as ever, there's a slightly 'looser' vibe to the Lord Fort to Be.

Vester nods, "Lord Romian," he says, formally, politely, then goes back to piling as much food as he can get away with on his plate. The boy doesn't, though, seem overwhelmed or anything by the Blooded presence. More...curious.

Leylia smiles back just as pleasantly even if there is slight strain to the gesture. Not that she seems ill at ease around the Lordling. In fact his presence seems to be something the woman can relax around. Lifting her drink towards Romian, she nods towards the empties seats. "It would give me much honor if you will join me, sir." Her eyes drift over towards Vester as the boy watches the older man. "You are more than welcome to join me also."

Romian gives a nod, "It would be my pleasure. I'll try and find something interesting to talk about so you don't regret the invitation." A smidge of humor before he departs from the serving table, his plate apparently arranged in a satisfactory manner. He picks a table, placing his plate and his drink down carefully, flicking a glance up to Vester and Leylia before seating himself. A momentary pause for the diners to assemble, he awaits company before even touching his food or drink.

Vester considers, then, "Sure." He moves to join the two, setting down his food and drink. "Thank you, Assistant Headwoman." Not like him to be this formal...but then, how often is there a future Lord Holder there?

"I am sure that it will be a fascinating subject what ever you choose." Leylia says with a hint of tartness as if she was teasing the Lord Heir. Setting down her mug, she softly smile as she watches both men settle themselves in before she takes up her fork and eats a single bite. Once that is done, she even chooses the topic to start off with. "Did you get a ride to the festival, Lord Romian?"

Romian nods lightly, "Yes, though I didn't stay long. I had intended to briefly meet with my betrothed but she was unable to attend and I thought my interests would best be suited back at the Weyr if the specific purpose of my visit couldn't be executed." He gives a quiet chuckle, "I thought it would be better to enjoy the splendor of spring in a more agricultural setting." He shifts attention to Vester momentarily, "And I don't believe we've met, young man. May I inquire as to your name?"

"Vester," the young man supplies. "Infirmary aide and trainee dragonhealer." A pause. "We haven't *met*, I mean, I've seen you, but not had the chance to talk to you." The explanation is followed by the boy picking at his stew and potatoes. "Blah. Bland."

"Betrothed?" Leylia repeats as she picks up on that word but despite her interested in this woman she leaves well enough alone. "Agricultural? Did you spend time down at the fields then?" She asks politely as she takes a few more bites. Watching Vester introduce himself, she cocks her head. "Bland but full of meat at least."

Romian chuckles lightly, "Well that tends to be the way of my days on frequent occasion. If not standing out in one way, it's another. It's a pleasure to meet you, Vester." His attention slides back to Leylia, "Indeed, the sister of Lord Boll. Arrangements were 'put to hide' as it were at the Conclave. Though a specific date for the ceremony has yet to be slated." He's rather calm about the idea. It's apparently something he's accepted as part of his duty long ago. "And right again, Leylia. I find the fields to be.. surprisingly enlivening." He smiles at that thought, eating a few bites of his dinner near on daintily.

Vester hrms. "Makes me glad I'm not Blooded...I can pick whatever girl I want as long as she wants me back, and don't need to stay with her if we stop wanting each other." From his tone, he's quite happy about *that* situation.

Leylia smiles softly as she listens to the chestnut haired man talk. "It is good that you understand how to work the fields. It is always good for a Lord Holder to know what his people do for a living and how hard they work at it." She says with an approving tone to her voice as she sweeps her eyes once more over the Lordling as if she is revaluating her opinion of the man. To Vester, she simple chuckles at the boy's ideas of relationships. "It is never that easy, Vester."

Romian tilts his head lightly, "It's nothing I've ever been overly concerned about. I always knew it would happen eventually. And it's not as if I've not had my share of women's attentions previously." A sly smile curving his lips for a moment before he returns his mind to the gattering at hand, "After all, I probably wouldn't be here at all, and Fort Hold's aid not given if not for the fact that I'd once been quite enthralled with Weyrwoman Raine." Rather than delve into the subject any deeper, he dismisses it with a casual, "But that was ages ago." Jumping to the topic of field work again, he takes a sip of his klah before beginning, "I agree whole-heartedly. Actually, despite the looks I've gotten, boxing me up as someone crazed or mentally ill, I've been helping with the spring planting. It's dirty, exhausting work. But rewarding for the effort expended at the very least."

Vester hrms. "I can see that. I've never had to do anything like that, but I did used to work in the stables here." A pause. "And maybe not...right now I'm still stuck at the 'make the girl want me' stage of things," he adds, disconsolately. "None of them are interested."

"It all comes back to Weyrwoman Raine around here." Leylia says with a bewildered sort of tone but she continues on with out much more thought on the matter. "I hardly think that you are crazy, my Lord." The dusty eyed woman says with that soft smile of hers as she picks up mug and takes a few sips. "You are on your own then, Vester. I have never been much for romantic gestures, but maybe our Lord Holder here, might have some tips for you."

Romian chuckles lightly, "Well I could offer some valuable tidbits of advice that would aid in the wooing process that truth be told don't even need to be quite as heartfelt as they should be to work. But then again, I didn't have to work very hard in that department. A courtier's favorite sport is trying to catch the eye of a blooded man." A point of information that earns a shake of his head. He looks over the boy with an air of appraisal, "You're a bit young to worry about it too terribly much though. Unless you just desperately want a gaggle fo children."

Vester nods. "Yeah. I know. I got plenty of time. And if I get a dragon, I'll have to wait for *him* to grow up. Can't confuse a hatchling...it upsets them." He glances over Romian again. "'Course, that's a big if."

"And I am sure that it was such a /horrible/ experience." Leylia says with a roll of her eyes as she frowns at the Lord Holder. "From what I heard, men tend to like the attention."

"It would be a lie to say that I didn't tire of it, but when I was younger it was amusing enough. Whatever low opinion you may have for men will probably not change for anything I could say, though I assure you that any worth their salt wants to be appreciated as a person and not their rank or what they can get for someone else." Romian says lightly, "I would prefer to not be used as a means to obtain luxury if it's possible to find a woman that actually cares for me. Luckily, neither is even an issue at this point since I've been bartered to form a political alliance. A respectable way to serve my Hold. I look forward to forming a respectful working relationship with my bride to be." Vester earns a look, "Is it a common hope to be a dragon rider among the youth here?"

Vester shrugs a little bit. "We're raised that way, I guess. And those that don't have that hope, have generally left by the time they're my age to apprentice to some craft." He glances towards the bowl. "If I apprenticed to anything, it would be healer, but I'm waiting until the next clutch. It won't be long, now."

Leylia doesn't say anything for a long while as she listens carefully to the two males at her table. Carefully swirling her mug around, she becomes absorbed in what ever thought the Lord Holder has brought out in her. "I believe that is the goal of any man or woman even if they don't have a rank or luxuries." This is said softly and with a hint of sadness to it. Vester's conversation is listened too and noted. "I am sure that it is now the goal of every girl here also."

Romian nods thoughtfully, "And I'm sure Fedayth will clutch well. Ianoth is a strong bronze and I believe Raine and X'drian are well suited as a leading pair." As to the rest of it, he doesn't immediately answer, eating silently for a moment. "Generally, yes. There are a few sour idividuals with a taste for deceit, but I believe most people are inherently good." A brow quirks, "Yes, that will make for quite the interesting predicament. Searching girls even if there happens to not be a gold egg. A stir will surely be caused. But Fort Weyr has dealt with harsher events, and will weather a few more frowns just as easily, I'm sure."

Vester nods a little bit. "We should pay attention to clutch sizes anyway. If Thread is coming back, then they should get bigger and bigger, and more golds...the dragons *know* these things." He glances towards the bowl again, then back to the other two. "I'm weyrbred for generations. I can't imagine doing anything else, unless I'm truly unlucky and *never* Impress."

"It will be something new that's for sure." Leylia says as she stands up and gathers her dishes. "It has been a wonderful evening, gentleman, and I thank you for it." With that, the dusty eyed woman deposits her dishes and moves down the hallway.

What to do now?

2006-04-04T04:49:31Z

Place: Living Cavern
Players: Riss and Leylia
Current time: 10:37pm. Current date: Day 4, month 3, turn 442.
Summary: Two former assistants catch up with one another after their world as has been tip upside down.

Living Cavern(#25RHIJMa)

Huge, still mostly the natural shape of the bubble cavern that formed it though embellished with intricate columns, the living cavern is large enough to seat over two thousand people at any given time. But it has fallen into a state of disuse, for the most part. There are long gaps in the room where tables must have been at one time: Now, there are only twenty tables - each with space for twenty-five people - left in the room, where once there must have been closer to eighty tables. They are all gathered near the northeastern wall where the largest of the room's four hearths are. The rest of the space seems bare. There are a few smaller tables to seat five or six people scattered randomly throughout. Though there is easily room for twice as many, and still many bare swathes of wall that should boast tapestries, there are only three hangings in the living cavern, and all of them are small given the grand scale of the cavern: Two are Fortian brown with the black "Fort" symbol on them, and the third is a light brown field with a brownish-bronzish wing breaking out of the shell of a single white egg. Up a set of handsomely carved stone steps is the Weyr's large kitchen, wrapping around balcony-style with a view into the cavern.
The cavern is mostly deserted right now. It's nighttime in the spring. The fire is kept low in the hearth to keep out any lingering chill.

Players:
Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain looking.
Riss...........A short woman with dirty blonde hair in a messy bun. She wears a blue tunic and brown skirt with brown shoes.

Riss trudges up from the Inner Caverns with a basket of linens for the kitchen in her arms. Her hands now still look like dishpan hands and she looks a bit tired.

Leylia is also putting in a late night as she is hold up in one of the single tables in the corner. A large stack of hides are placed on one side of the table and the one is staring down at the hide in front of her; one charcoal pencil is in one hand, the same hand that is currently holding up her head.

Riss looks over at Leylia and moves toward her table and drops the basket of folded linens for the kitchen behind her to wake her up a bit.

There is no need for a wake up call because as Riss approaches the table, Leylia looks up from her work and focus those dusty blue eyes on to the other woman. "Evening," is blandly given as she sits up, stretching her back out as she regards the woman across from her.

Riss sighs and takes a seat. "What are you doing now?" Now being now that Raine has taken over.

Leylia snorts, "Whatever /needs/ to be done." The dusty eyed woman says as she closes up the hide in front of her. "Some of the residents don't know what to do anymore when they need to get thing around here now." The woman says flatly. "And the really don't want to go talk to the /weyrwoman/, so they have been coming to me. Besides, I know what needs to get done, it does not matter who is in charge. Some things never change."

Riss sighs. "Some things do change." She sighs and refolds some of the linens. "Like me having to tell workers that I am only suppose to be incharge of the laundry now and not the kitchen. It goes against everything I have ever done." She also eyes Leylia at the last comment she makes.

Leylia frowns as she listens. "Doesn't mean that they will stop asking you what to do, now does it." Shaking her head, she watches the woman carefully. "I see you have made your presence know to our dear Weyrwoman." As the other woman mentions, the change in duties, "I try to stay out of the line of fire that tends to erupt around here."

Riss laughs. "They were. I was told my duties were to be that of the laundry room and seamstresses. I'm to make sure things run smoothly there. And as you can see, I've had to help finish laundry to make sure it's done on time." She holds up her pruny hands. "And I tend to. I don't want to anger the higher ups around here. I want the Headwoman position, and I'll keep my nose clean if it doing that will get me the job."

Leylia raises her eyebrows just a bit as she listens to the other woman and finally, shakes her head at her comment. "Well, that really isn't staying out of the line of fire does it." She says as lean forward on the table. "In fact, I would say that would put you right in the middle of this mess that they call the leadership of Fort Weyr."

Riss snorts. "I guess. I don't know what was going through Raine's mind. I odn't know if she was deliberately trying to piss me off or what, but it worked."

"Neither did I." Leylia says a sort of bland tone. "Leave home that is. But something never quite works out no matter how long or well you plan them." This is said more softly as if she is hesitant to talk about it. "There is always something that you can't think of to get in your way."

Riss nods. 'I know." She looks toward the kitchen and around the cavern. "Well, I best get these to the kitchen and then sleep. We are still a worker short with the laundry and I'm filling in until then." She stands. "Later Leylia."

Leylia nods as she sits up straight again at Riss' indication of departure. "I really do hope everything works out for you in the end, Riss."

Riss nods. "And you with you cothold Leylia." And then she's off...

Can’t a Girl Take A Bath in Peace

2006-02-27T04:37:28Z

Place: Bathing Room
Players: T’yan and Leylia
Time: 5:46pm. Current date: Day 8, month 12, turn 441.
Synopsis: Leylia takes a bath with a bluerider.

Bathing Room

The bathing room is warm and damp as one might expect. There are two large, sunken pools with room enough for twenty people if necessary; sand on the bottom keeps the rocks from being too slippery, and the pipes embedded near the bottom keep the water constantly circulating. Beyond the large baths, there are a few small chambers connected to this with raised tubs of porcelain or rock, also fed by pipes, for people who prefer more private baths.

The bathing room is empty at this very moment as it is too early in the day for the major of people to take baths and too late for the rest, which may be why Leylia is here at this very moment. Dressed in her birthing suit, the dusty blue eyed woman is currently and quickly trying to get hair thoroughly washed as quickly as she can.

T'yan may have been spotted sitting in the baths, soaking and relaxing. Perhaps it's a small noise from Leylia that causes the disturbance, but the bluerider shifts his weight uneasily in the water. He opens one eye to look at the woman with a smirk before closing it once more. "Why are you in such a big hurry?" he asks in a lazy voice.

Leylia practically jumps when T'yan speaks as she yells out and attempts to cover herself even if it isn't possible. "Humm..' She says as her checks turn bright red. "I didn't see anyone else here." Is her oh so smooth answer to that question.

T'yan grins, wickedly, and acts like he didn't see anything as he folds his hands behind his head. Through a chuckle, he says, "Oh? I don't know how you could miss me...Bah, whatever," he continues as he waves a dismissive hand. "You didn't answer my question, dearie. What are you in a hurry for? Tryin' to avoid the onrush of human activity?"

Leylia snorts as she takes a moment to relax and the relax is very forced as she visibly forces each muscle to react to the calm that she normally has. Once that is done, she cocks her head a bit. "Lets just say I am not quite use to bathing around others." She says as she sinks back down into the water.

T'yan ahs, and nods his head a bit as he starts to scrub some sweetsand onto his arms. "Well, if you're going to be living /here/, you'd better get used to it. There's nothing to be shy about," he says, gently. "People are used to seeing other people nekid all the time."

Leylia snorts at the blueriders reaction though her tone still speaks of pure humiliation. "Use to or not, I don't particularly like being stared at with others around." Men or woman it seems by her inflection. Maybe this has something to do with vanity or pride than even a plain looking girl like Leylia has. "Maybe, if I deicide to live here I will."

T'yan just grins, shaking his head a bit as he finishes cleaning up. "People generally don't stare...it doesn't bother nor fascinate anyone," he reassures. "Just a body." Then he lets out a deep breath and moves to get out of the pool and dry himself off. He dresses, and then gathers his things. "Well...I'd love to stay and gawk at you some more," he teases, "but I must be going. There's work to be done, and Mindreth won't like me messing around when I should be working. Have fun."

A Healer in Trouble

2006-02-22T13:48:58Z

Place: Inner Caverns/Infirmary
Players: Raine, Leylia, Quinley, Tristan
Time: Late one night.
Synopsis: Leylia goes looking for the healer.

Inner Caverns(#150RIJ)

A warren of caverns and tunnels run through the interior of Fort Weyr. Many of them are abandoned and disused, but some are still in good repair. Those that are no longer serviceable are blocked off by wooden rails. The others are usually lit - albeit sparsely at times as the glows are not refreshed as often as they should be. Regardless of the time of day or season, these caverns are perpetually gloomy and a bit chilly.

The main tunnel here leads up to the living cavern. Branches off of this go in various directions: A narrow tunnel winds up in the nighthearth; a long, open corridor passes several rooms and offices before terminating at the dormitory; and so on.

Raine..........A plump woman in her early twenties, 5'1" tall, with chin-le
Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.
Quinley........A short, skinny young woman with pale hair and green eyes.
Tristan........Tall, dark, and handsome.

Raine relinquishes the basket with a little struggle, retains a hand on it until Tristan has pulled it out of reach, gives him a no-nonsense look. "Yes. Being spendthrift," she assures, smiles pragmatically into his glib expression. Then she's looking beyond him, spots Quinley, tilts her head to one side; "Good evening, Quinley. Funny I should run in to you like this..."

Quinley blinks up at the Weyrwoman. "Is it, ma'am?" she asks simply enough. They are, well, right outside the Infirmary after all. Curiosity makes her gaze flit from goldrider to basket of hides, though she studiously avoids looking directly at the harper that now holds them.

Tristan falls silent. Smart man. He holds Raine's basket in one hand, leaning against the wall with the other, watching Quinley and Raine converse with open curiosity and nary a word to spare.

"I was just speaking to the weyrleader the other night," Raine begins like it all flows off the cuff. "With winter coming and the likelihood that we'll all be trapped indoors much more than normal. Before we get to that point, I would really appreciate if the entire infirmary could be washed, floor to ceiling, and sterilized. All the little jars and boxes and everything." She smiles across at Quinley, like she's done the healer a favor!

Coming up from one of the tunnels, Leylia makes her entrance with little flare. However, the woman's appearance is just a little off. Large bags have formed underneath Leylia's dusty blue eyes and her face just screams exhaustion that comes from a hard day of work.

Quinley nods solemnly. "I agree," the girl replies, and sounds entirely sincere. "I finished doing so last sevenday actually. No disrespect intended to previous healers but...the Infirmary was in somewhat drastic need of cleaning." Is she *serious*? She looks serious. With no handsome harper to hold her basket, Quinley must settle for shifting it to her other hip. "Was there anything else you'd like me to do, ma'am?" She doesn't yet notice Leylia's arrival.

Tristan doesn't notice Leylia's entrance yet either. With no fanfare to announce her, he remains absorbed in the goings on between Raine and Quinley, very like one watching a tennis match - back and forth, back and forth?

Raine says very seriously, "You probably better do it again, just to be sure. As you say, the infirmary was left in a deplorable state, and I would hate for something to get overlooked. Seeing as there's not a *great* deal to keep you occupied at the time, it will keep you busy until things pick up with the winter months." There's not a lot of room for argument in Raine's statement; this is not a request.

Quinley's brows lift in mild surprise. "Um. Of course." She turns as if to go, but then stops, takes a quiet but deep breath, turns back. "Excuse me, Weyrwoman, but have I done something to upset you?" Oh, stupid stupid healer.

Tristan doesn't notice Leylia's entrance yet either. With no fanfare to announce her, he remains absorbed in the goings on between Raine and Quinley, very like one watching a tennis match - back and forth, back and forth?

Raine says very seriously, "You probably better do it again, just to be sure. As you say, the infirmary was left in a deplorable state, and I would hate for something to get overlooked. Seeing as there's not a *great* deal to keep you occupied at the time, it will keep you busy until things pick up with the winter months." There's not a lot of room for argument in Raine's statement; this is not a request.

Quinley's brows lift in mild surprise. "Um. Of course." She turns as if to go, but then stops, takes a quiet but deep breath, turns back. "Excuse me, Weyrwoman, but have I done something to upset you?" Oh, stupid stupid healer.

Tristan doodles his thumbnail on the top hide of the stack. Were anyone to look close enough, which he tilts the basket to assure cannot happen but, for the sake of argument, if someone did, he's spelling out 'busy work.' And humming quietly, some ominous ballad just low enough to be ignorable.

While Leylia's entrance isn't noticed by the others in the room, the young woman does notice who is in the room. Noticing Raine, Leylia takes a moment at the edge of the room to get a feel for the Weyrwoman's mood. And with the healer's question, Leylia almost cringes for a moment before walking boldly the rest of the way here. Raising her voice, she turns to Quinley. "Oh, Journeywoman Quinley, I am glad I have run into you." She says as pleasantly as she can force her tried voice into sounding.

Raine eyes Tristan and the hum, realizes that eyeing Tristan even when he's being bothersome doesn't do much for her calm state of mind, and quickly looks back at Quinley with an affable shake of her head. "Not at all. I just hate the idea of what few crafters we have being idle." Speaking of which, she reclaims her basket from the harper, tries to look admonishing and winds up looking tolerantly annoyed with him.

Quinley opens her mouth again, perhaps to protest the idea of her idleness, but even stupid healers aren't quiet that stupid. "I see," is all that's offered in a soft, muted tone. Then her attention is jerked to Leylia...shards, the girl looks awful. Is there something about being an assistant headwoman that sucks away good health. "How can I help you, Leylia?" Tristan? Still ignored? Oh yes.

I don't know maybe it is their boss that has the assistant headwomen looking like this or maybe it is just the late nights in the cold either way, Leylia does try to keep up the appearance of looking like she has been busy at least. Glance at the Weyrwoman for a second, she politely presses her lips into a thin line. "It can wait if the Weyrwoman still has need with you."

Tristan meticulously swipes his hand over the hide on top of the stack before Raine can get the basket away, giving the weyrwoman a hooded look before he allows her to retrieve her parcel. "Very conscientious of you to be thinking of your crafters, madam. I'm sure we all appreciate your attention to detail," he says warmly. "If there's anyway that _I_ can be of service." He leaves it at a suggestive look.

"Wonderful. I look forward to hearing of your progress." Raine smiles perfectly at the healer. Then the color starts rising in her face, leaves her hastening to make a departure; "I am sure there are any number of ways that a harper would be indispensable, Tristan. I'll be sure to keep you posted. Good night." And she hurries off to take a cold shower.

Quinley watches the Weyrwoman go, and her face remains quite expressionless until Raine vanishes. Then it tightens oh-so-slightly and the words "welcome home," are muttered, barely audible, under her breath. Attention is drawn back to Leylia. "It seems the Weyrwoman is done with me for now. What can I help you with, Leylia?"

"Now what," Tristan begins, resuming his lean against the edge of the doorframe that Raine just vacated in such haste, "could you have done to merit the weyrwoman's attention, I wonder?" He turns a surveying look upon Quinley, noting Leylia more in passing - a polite nod issued her way - as he studies the healer. "And to get heaped with busy work, mm mm."

Leylia almost lets out a sigh of relief as the Weyrwoman leaves. "It's nothing much. I am just having trouble sleeping that's all. I thought you might have something that could help." However, it is the harper's words that catches her attention and it is him that she levels a cool eye too.

Quinley shakes her head, staring after the goldrider. "I honestly haven't the faintest idea," she says and her words hold a twinge of hurt. "I thought I was doing a good job." And I haven't been idle! But, this isn't said. She looks back to Leylia, brows lowering. "I...yes, of course. Are you getting run that roughshod? I didn't realize the job was so overwhelming."

You paged Entropy with 'Sorry about the delay, rping. If we wanted to run a plot line that may or may not involve the whole weyr. Do we need to get the details approved by you first? Also, on the gold, if you have been approved, would you just give an explanation why you would like to change (in my case.) and idea of what plot/interactions with the other features?'.

Tristan doesn't care enough to melt the cool gaze presently. His attention is devoted on the mystery that transpired right in front of his eyes a moment ago, eyes leveled on Quinley like he can unravel it if he just stares at her long enough. "If I were you, I'd work on figuring out what it is you've done - and then I'd quit doing it," he says, full of useful advice.

Leylia frowns but she shakes her head. "Just not use to the noise, I think. It has been awhile since I have slept in the same room as anyone else." She then takes a moment to glance between the harper and the healer. "But she doesn't mind you being idle." She remarks to the man in front of her. While her words can sound mean or hotty, the woman says them in a way that can't mean she is trying to give offence. "I wonder if it has to do with your gender."

The healer speaks, partially to herself and partially to Tristan, though her attention ends up settling on her basket of sheets. "I've washed the sheets several times, reorganized all the shelves, catalogued everything, seen a few patients, scrubbed the infirmary *top to bottom*," this last does come with a drop of bitterness, "gone through and attempted to organized the records and previous catalogues of the infirmary, checked with the weyrleader to confirm a few discrepencies, read some scrolls on dragonhealing..." she shakes her head. "Nothing even worth warranting a weyrwoman's attention." Leylia's comment about gender illicits a faint twist of her lips into a small smirk. "Here, follow me. I'll set these down and see what I can get to help you sleep. Tristan, if you wish to continue this conversation, I'm afraid you'll have to do it around the smell of redwort." Funny that. It's 'harper' when the Weyrwoman's around and 'Tristan' now?

Tristan holds his hands out in front of him in a gesture of halt. "You don't need to tell _me_ everything you've done, my dear girl. I'm not the one that wants you to do busy work. I also don't especially care for the smell of redwort. I think I'll just stay here and see what else wanders along." He drifts a sideways, lazy look in Leylia's direction, stretching a droll smile. "Less to do with gender, more to do with sex," he says cleverly.

Leylia just rolls her dusty blue eyes at the grown man. Well the appearance of the grown man that is. "Not everything has to do with sex. It is just a bit of lower cavern talks something about showing the classic signs." Leylia says with a tone that clearly states that she has no idea what they are talking about. "Either way, I would watch out with her if you are looking at that woman to share your bed. If weyrs are anything like Holds, I am sure the Weyrleader wouldn't appreciate it very much and you might find yourself back at Harper Hall before you can throw back on your pants." This being said, she gives the older man sharp nod then a long raking look before turning to the healer. "I would appreciate it. I don't think I should ask for my own room just quite yet."

Quinley mms. "Well, don't get swallowed by a tunnelsnake," she says dryly towards the Harper, although her tone implies that she might not mind if he did. Or lost a toe to one, at least. Then she ducks into the Infirmary on the assumption that Leylia will follow and Tristan won't.

Tristan would only start a quarrel if he responded to Leylia. Since quarreling sounds like a lot of work, he neglects to respond with anything more than a blithe, "As you say, madam."

Leylia just snorts at the older man and follows the healer in her quest for sleep.

Infirmary

The infirmary cavern is actually two connected caverns with a short but narrow tunnel leading between them. The larger of the two has fifteen beds in it, each one with a curtain suspended from the ceiling that can be drawn around the bed entirely to provide some privacy. The walls are lined with shelves and counter space, most of it filled with rolls of bandages, jars of herbs, pots of salves, and so forth. There is a hearth with a screen drawn around it completely and a kettle usually just on the verge of boiling nearby.

The inner cavern is much smaller and only has five beds. These beds can also be made more private by the curtains, but there's a much more somber feeling. The smell of redwort dominates the entire infirmary, but the inner cavern is colder and lacks the smell of tea and herbs. This is for the sickest patients, and voices here rarely reach above a whisper.

As might be inferred from the large basket of sheets Quinley carries, the beds are stripped bare. Quinley plops the basket down on the nearest bed and makes her way over to a shelf of jars and boxes. The shelf, and in fact the Infirmary as a whole, is spotless thankyouverymuch. She pulls a jar down and walks to a counter, selecting a bit of muslin. "Let's start simply with some chamomile. It's calming and tends to make you drowsy when it's drunk as a tea. Give it a go for the next sevenday and if you still can't sleep, I'll make you something stronger."

Leylia enters the infirmary wearing an impressive scowl as she mutters a few unpleasant things about men in general. However, as she approaches the healer her face turns to all business. Moving over to the bed where the sheets are, the older woman picks one up and begins to place it on the nearest bed. "If you need any help with this," She brushes her hand up to indicate the room, "just let me know." Looking up as the healer gives her the instructions, she nods as her response. "Right as tea."

Quinley spoons some chamomile into the muslin and ties it up to hand over to Leylia. "You look as if you have enough work without taking on mine." She hefts a small sigh. "I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've been assigned this sort of task." Busy work, she means. As she walks over to Leylia, holding the chamomile out to her, she says, "I've heard Marcella isn't very easy to work beneath. Is she...are you doing all right?"

Leylia shrugs as she finishes making the bed as she speaks. "I like work. It gives me something that I can call my own. It makes me feel good or at least it will be once I can finally get some sleep." This being said, she reaches out and takes the tea from the healer. Finding an empty bed, she sinks down into it and takes a sip of the offered remedy. "She is a bitter old woman." Leylia says with another shrug. "This isn't my first nor most likely will it be the last. But mostly, I just stay away from her. Lucky, I don't need to talk to anyone to do my work."

The healer nods distractedly and returns to the counter to spoon some chamomile herbs into a bit of cloth for Leylia to use in the coming days. "Leylia...do you think you could help me with something? It would involve talking to people, though." She walks over to ther pile of sheets as she awaits the answer and begins making up a second bed.

Leylia blows on the hot tea for a few moments before she takes another sip all the while eyeing the other woman across the room. Lowering the tea to her lap, she woman finally speaks up. "I have NO problem taking to people. So sure, what you need?

"Azimae, the Journeyman Weaver?" It's a question, perhaps asking if Leylia knows this woman. "She came across a lad in the kitchens trying to put something in Riss' drink to make her sleep." The sheets are snapped into place with unnecessary force. "I most certainly did not request, nor would I approve, such an act. I'd very much like to know who this person was and what by the first egg they thought they were doing!"

Leylia takes a few moments to digest this little trinket of information before speaking. "Hmm I see. Have you brought this up with the Leadership?" The woman asked.

Quinley shakes her head. "No, I just found out tonight and, well, I think I'd prefer to avoid the leadership for the next few days if at all possible. If you can't learn anything, I'll have to speak with one of them however." A soft sigh as she finishes this one bed and moves on to the next.

With that, Leylia slowly stands up from her perch on the bed and nods. "I will see what I can find out." Her words are strong. "I tend to have a way about these sorts of things." Raising the tea up, she pouches the rest of the herbs. "I will bring it back tomorrow as I think it is time for me to try to get some sleep. Thanks again." With a quick nod, the woman walks out the door.

Another Chance Meeting

2006-02-22T05:47:46Z

Place: Herb Garden
Players: Leylia and Tristan
Time: Late Night.
Synopsis: A VERY short scene where Leylia mets Tristan.

Herb Garden

A very small plot of land has been reserved for the kitchen garden. It covers no more than 100 feet by 100 feet, tucked along the wall of the bowl near the lake where water is easy to bring and where shade is available for the more tender plants. There are about ten rows of various herbs here, at bloom or dormant during different seasons. Just off to one side, a set of steps carved into the wall of the bowl leads to an adjacent, slightly raised patio.

It's late evening in the autumn. Many of the plants are already done for the year, but a few still have fresh herbs to be picked.

Looking very picturesque despite his overcoat and fingerless gloves, Tristan leans on the edge of the patio table. His breath puffs frostily in to the night air while he sings very low to his own accompaniment. Surely having picked this spot in the hopes of being discovered - For why else would a harper choose to play in the chilly outdoors? - he plucks his mournful little song on the gitar, looking wrapped in his own little world for the moment.

Leylia is alone and currently reading a hide as she walks. So involved with her reading, the dusty eyed woman doesn't quite notice the music until she is almost right on top of the Harper. Stopping in her tracks, the woman scowls at the interruption to her solitude for a few moments before she schools her face into a polite mask. "Good evening." She calls out to the man.

Tristan strums an errant chord that clearly does not belong in his song, distracted by the intrusion. He masks it by plucking a few leftover notes and then lifting his attention to Leylia, whom he favors with a shadowy smile. "Good evening," he echoes pleasantly. "Reading by moonlight?" He shifts so that the full moon catches across his forehead, calling it to note.

Leylia folds up the hide and tucks it away as the Harper makes note of it. "Playing by moonlight?" The young woman response to the question and she squares her shoulders back a bit. "Me personally was just taking some alone time." She wrinkles up her nose as she speaks. "Something that seems not to happen a lot around here."

"I find it makes the romantic songs all the more palpable," Tristan answers, scooting away from the edge of the table. He eyes Leylia blankly for a few seconds, then turns to put his guitar into the case, buttoning it neatly with his back to the young woman. "Far be it for me to interrupt a woman's solitude. I am sure there are ample moonlit places to practice my forlorn trade," he says as he slings the strap of the case over one shoulder.

Leylia frowns at the harper as he speaks. "Romance is for the unenlightened or the very stupid." She says with a slight tart sting to her voice as she watches the man with the guitar leave. "Though, I am sure that it does wonders for your line of work."

Tristan literally misses a beat. He drops the gitar harder than he intended and it lands with a muted thud against his hip, the strings twanging muffled under the leather casement. "I fear I must be very stupid then, miss. If you'll excuse me." Laden with polite apology, he smiles and bows partially to Leylia, slipping by her and down the stairs with a light but very hasty pace.

Either way; it is a dangerous way to live.

2006-02-17T04:18:47Z

Place: Herb Garden
Players: Zaorine and Leylia
Time: 8:06pm of Day 6, month 11, turn 441.
Synopsis: A meeting in the Herb Garden and words along with sympathies are given.

Herb Garden

A very small plot of land has been reserved for the kitchen garden. It covers no more than 100 feet by 100 feet, tucked along the wall of the bowl near the lake where water is easy to bring and where shade is available for the more tender plants. There are about ten rows of various herbs here, at bloom or dormant during different seasons. Just off to one side, a set of steps carved into the wall of the bowl leads to an adjacent, slightly raised patio.

It's late evening in the autumn. Many of the plants are already done for the year, but a few still have fresh herbs to be picked.

Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.
Zaorine........Thick, wavy hair and lt. green eyes.

Zaorine is rather industriously set to the task of filling a basket with an assortment of sweet-smelling flowers. Staying away from the main path of needed and important herbs, the weyrling sticks to the areas where a little pilfering here and there won't go noticed. The basket she has is filled with a handful of flowers thus far, with another three held in hand as Zaorine pauses to crack her neck.

Leylia moves down the rows with a basket of her own, though hers filled with a hide and writing utensils along with a few ripe herbs. Stopping every so often, the dark blonde haired woman pulls out the hide and makes a few marks before continuing on her way. It is in this methodological walk that Leylia comes across the gold weyrling causing her to stop and watch the woman work for a few moments before clearing her voice to announce her presence.

Clueless to Leylia's presence until the woman clears her throat, Zaorine starts suddenly, snapping upright with a bone-popping crunch. It elicits a sharp wince and hiss, along with an annoyed look sent in the offending party's direction. Namely, Leylia. After a moment of forced calm, Zaorine manages a smile. "I'm sorry - you surprised me. I hope I'm not disrupting anything?" She looks at the basket Leylia carries and then back at the woman, a hasty excuse now tacked on, "I was just getting some herbs for Jasmyth's couch."

Leylia raises an eyebrow first at Zaorine's reaction and then at the merger excuse the woman gives her. After a few moments of just looking at the woman, her thin lips are curled into a small but smug smile. "I am sure that you could come up with a better excuse than that concerning that you don't have any herbs in your basket and second in my experience, only people that are doing something that they shouldn't tend to jump that high up in the air."

"You're accusing me of what then?" Zaorine asks, shifting the basket against her side, "Mind that I don't /like/ being accused of things." Her gaze steady upon the other woman's, Zaorine takes a step closer while waiting for her response.

Leylia isn't a least bit intimidated by the weyrling. In fact, amusement is what fills her eyes as the weyrling moves closer. "Me? Oh, I am not accusing you of anything. I am only pointing out that your reaction and your excuse MAY make some believe that you were up to no good." The she pauses as she shifts the basket she is carrying to one hip.

"Jasmyth," The name is pronounced with deliberate stress, "Was talking to me. You're probably not use to what that's like. It tends to drown out everything around me." Zaorine's features smooth into a smile, albeit a very thin one. "My basket, if you're so sure?" It's offered forward, what little there is to be seen consists mainly of sweet smelling flowers and the occasional herb. To which Zaorine simply says, "Satisfied?" Sure she's on the defensive, but Zaorine seems to not care about that fact.

Leylia holds up her hand as Zaorine approaches with her basket. "Seriously, there is no need. I really don't care what you where doing. I only pointed out your reaction because of your unique position." However, as the basket is offered, she does take a quick peek inside and takes a mental note of what is inside. "Though I can understand why you are bit defensive being in your situation."

"My situation?" Whether Zaorine's simply on the defensive constantly or is truly curious, Leylia's left to make the assessment, for she says nothing more, though does remain rather expectant as she studies Leylia.

"Look, sugar, I may be new, but I am not an idiot, and only an idiot wouldn't be able to read the undercurrents that are going on in this place." There is a slight sneer at the word place. "You are currently in a hard spot, and you are worried about things, which, of course, puts you on the defensive." This is clearly stated with a matter the fact tone in Leylia's voice though there is a trace of sympathy in it.

"Zaorine, please." Zaorine offers with a briskness to it, "As for what's going on here... yes, it's probably obvious. Half of Pern knows Fort's business by now. I'm not.. I'm not the one most people are concerned with. It'd be the other girls." Those strange girls. "You can give your sympathy to them. They'll need it, I expect."

the shadows." Leylia says quietly. "Having a Weyrwoman not like you must be much like having the Lord Holder not like you, either way; it is a dangerous way to live." Her tone turns soft as she speaks and is full of emotion. "And for that you have my sympathy. The others may be." She pauses as she thinks of the right words. "may be in a unique situation, but they don't necessarily pose a threat... Unlike you I suspect."

Zaorine continues to regard Leylia, her features growing more stiff and guarded by the moment. "The Weyrwoman... what she likes and choses not to like is not my business. She is my Weyrwoman." Tone implying Zaorine was bound to the woman, for better or worse. "As I said, I was talking with my 'mate. It's rather distracting." The basket is hefted agaist her hip, Zaorine's attention switching to the ground, "In either instance your concern... I suppose it's appreciated."

Leylia snorts. "You are no more bound to her than I am bound to mine." Her dusty blue eyes flash with a bit of fire as she speaks. "Though, I will suspect that yours requires you to play the part a bit more than mine at the moment." Pressing her thin lips into an even thinner line, the woman gives the weyrling a long look over. "You're not to bad looking; at least you have that going for you." The 'unlike some part' is left unspoken as she shifts her heavy basket to the other side. "Your welcome, but the way, though I am sure you don't really mean it any more than I ever did."

Taken aback, Zaorine regards Leylia with a thin smile. "I play no part. My duties are to my Weyrwoman, her 'Leader and our home." Canting her head slightly, Zaorine says, "I'll thank you to keep your insults to yourself... it's been a trying day as is, without having to smile and bear attacks." Which Zaorine seems to find within Leylia's words.

It is night in the autumn. There's not a cloud in sight. Timor is a waxing crescent moon, and Belior is a waxing gibbous moon in the clear night sky. The temperature is about 34F, 1C.

"Suit yourself." Leylia says in response to Zaorine words and accusations, though she doesn't defend her own words to the woman. Take them or leave them, seems to be her motto. Shifting her basket one more time the blonde haired woman begins make the subtle shifts to leave. "I believe me and you are shaped by the same mold, the same situation." Shrugging, she turns away from the gold weyrling but at the last minute, she looks back over her shoulder. "I just figured you would want a friend and would offer that for as long as I am here, at least."

Attempting to further withold reaction, Zaorine tips her head forward in a respectful bow, "Thank you, I'll remember the offer and I hope you have a pleasant night." Zaorine turns as well, moving to swiftly exit the garden without a look back toward Leylia.

Employment

2006-02-13T04:07:50Z

Place: Living Cavern
Players: Leylia, Quinley, Riss
Time: 9:51pm. Current date: Day 22, month 10, turn 441.
Synopsis: Leylia gets a new job, that is surprisingly like her old job.

Living Cavern

Huge, still mostly the natural shape of the bubble cavern that formed it though embellished with intricate columns, the living cavern is large enough to seat over two thousand people at any given time. But it has fallen into a state of disuse, for the most part. There are long gaps in the room where tables must have been at one time: Now, there are only twenty tables - each with space for twenty-five people - left in the room, where once there must have been closer to eighty tables. They are all gathered near the northeastern wall where the largest of the room's four hearths are. The rest of the space seems bare. There are a few smaller tables to seat five or six people scattered randomly throughout, but the walls are notably void of hangings and tapestries. Wide, flat spaces where colorful banners must once have hung are now just bare rock, slightly discolored after centuries of being covered by hangings. Up a set of handsomely carved stone steps is the Weyr's large kitchen, wrapping around balcony-style with a view into the cavern.

Dinner is over now and the food has been put away. Those seeking food have adjourned to the kitchen or the nighthearth, leaving the cavern mostly empty. It's late in the evening in the autumn. The fire is kept low in the hearth to keep out any lingering chill.

Leylia.........5'8", 150 lbs, Dark Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Plain Looking.
Quinley........A short, skinny young woman with pale hair and green eyes.
Riss...........A short woman with dirty blonde hair in a messy bun.

Quinley sits at one of the smaller tables, a meatroll in one hand, scroll stretched out on table in front of her. Her attention keeps drifting however, moving from the scroll up to look around the mostly empty cavern.

Leylia enters the Living Carven slowly as she looks down at a small hide in her hand. Her thin lips are press into an even thinner line as she scowls at the hide in hand as she moves to and neatly sits down at yet another smaller table.

Quinley watches the new arrival and, with another bite of meatroll for luck, wipes her hands, rolls up her scroll and moves towards the other woman. "Excuse me," she begins as she approaches Leylia. "Have you been at the Weyr very long?"

At the healer's approach, the dark blonde haired woman quickly turns the hide over and sets her arms a cross of it as her dusty blue watches the woman very intently. "Not too long," Leylia says as friendly as she can. "You?"

Quinley ahs softly, shoulders slumping a bit. Eyes dart curiously towards the now-concealed hide, but she doesn't press. "No," she says with a sigh. "Not long at all. And I'm trying to find someone..." she thoughts wander off and she chews lightly on her bottom lip. "You...can read."

Riss slowly moves into the LC. She spots the healer and marches up to her. "What did you give me? It is the most vile stuff I've ever had to drink in my whole entire life! A bit bitter and spicy..."

Leylia almost seems insulted at the question. "I am the dau" She starts out for a moment. "Yes, I can read." The words come out like a tiff but she tacks a smile on to the end. However, just then Riss stomps up to the healer causing her to pull her arms and hide in a little farther as her eyes quickly change targets.

Quinley jumps in surprise at Riss' approach. "I...uh...garlic, enchinacea, and goldenseal to help your body fight off infection. Cayenne pepper to ease the coughing. Scullcap and goldencap for the aches and fever. It's really not that bad if you use sweetener," the healer insists. "A lot of sweetener." A pause and she notes, "You're not coughing." Gesturing towards Leylia, she says "Riss, this is..." blink. She looks to Leylia herself. "I'm sorry. What's your name?"

Riss smiles to the other woman the woman and then turns back to the healer. "I would use sweetener if it wasn't so low. And that is the wierdest combination of stuff I've ever heard of." Her statement is punctuated by a cough.

"Leylia" The blonde haired woman supplies at the request. "My name is Leylia." Nodding towards Riss, Leylia sits back in the chair as she slips the hide into her side pouch and watches the two interact.

Quinley frowns faintly. Right. Embargo. Less sweetener. "It'll work," she says "and you promised me three sevendays." To Leylia she says, "This is Leylia. Well met. So, you're new and you can read. Any good at math?"

Riss sits down and coughs a bit more. She wraps her shawl around her tighter and listens. quietly

Leylia steeples her fingers for a moment as her dusty blue eyes light up with a combination of amusement, interest, and annoyance. "Fairly good at math" Them she says to halt any further questions. "I have been well educated. Thanks for asking."

A tiny smile begins to appear at the corner of Quinley's eyes. "All right, last question. Leylia, would you be interested in a temporary employment opportunity?"

Riss sits quietly. A cough from time to time is given, but she stays mostly quiet.

"And employment opportunity?" says Leylia as she lean forward on the table once again. "Taking in the state of this place, I assume that there would not be any pay with this employment." She says sweetly but she pauses for a moment afterwards before asking. "What would this job be?"

"Assistant to Riss here, actually." She realizes exactly how long she's been in the cavern and frowns. 'I'd better get back. I'll leave you two to discuss what that might entail."

Riss looks up when her name is called and smiles a bit. "Umm...well. I wouldn't be the easiest person to work for I demand alot."

"Assistant." This word comes out with an ironic smirk. "It figures," is said under her breath as she turns her focus back on the Assistant Headwoman. "And you are a hard task master." Leylia says off handed at Riss's remark. "I hardly think that you could be harder to the last woman I was an Assistant too."

Riss nods. "I am. I demand you pull your load. I demand that everyone pulls their own load around here." She hears that she was an assistant. "Oh? Where were you assistant at?"

Leylia frowns as she sweeps her eyes up and over Riss with a calculated look. "Some place I really don't want to talk about, but lets just say that I am very well educated in the art of being a /Headwoman/."

Riss eyes the woman. "As I am. I've been here my whole entire life. And I've been doing this job for almost 10 years now." She eyes the woman with the same look that she's been given.

Leylia meets the other woman's gaze just as strongly as it is give as she presses her lips together as she makes her decision. "Then that makes two of us. Though, I have been 'training' probably since I could read by myself, which was quite a long time ago if I said so myself, either way, I accept your plea for help."

Riss nods. "Thank you." And with that Riss wraps herself up in her shawl and stands. "If you have any --cough-- questions. Please find me out."