[Evaly] What comes next? (Vignette)
"You didn't Impress."
Evaly, sitting on the crest of a dune, nursing a bottle of good old rough whiskey in between her heels, looked up to see a vaguely familiar face. Bluerider - lovely, seablue eyes - but she couldn't summon a name to match the face, and she didn't really want to confess that right out. "I didn't," she agreed simply.
What followed was one of those conversations that has neither beginning nor end. And they drank a lot.
Hours later, wrapped in a sheet and standing on the ledge, flickering a tired and headachey smile to the blue that lifted his head and peered at the interloper with curious, glowing eyes, Evaly vacillated between blaming the whiskey and blaming a wholly unfamiliar feeling of rejection. Leaving the Sands, even though there had been little enough hopefulness in her throughout candidacy, there was a gnawing, nagging, quietly insistent sense of being somehow unworthy. That's why she was drinking, she decided, tucking the sheet beneath her while she sat on a slight raise in the stone of the ledge, looking at the Weyr from a height she'd never seen before. And the drinking had lead to... what followed... In the morning, hungover, she would deserve the inevitable awkward scene that would follow.
It was chillier up here - tropical, yes, but autumn nevertheless, and Evaly started to wish she'd taken something more substantial than just a sheet, but she was timid about going back in there just yet. Those seablue eyes had been closed when she slipped from a very disvheveled bed, but if they were open... She colored at the thought of it and turned her attention elsewhere.
She would need some sort of game plan now, for sure. Her father was (rightfully) miffed at her about abandoning the booth for candidacy, and she had a feeling that he wasn't going to let things go back to the way they were just because she hadn't Impressed. She hadn't exactly stumbled across of firelizard eggs yet - which meant she hadn't been making any money since before she accepted search. Her pockets were ridiculously empty, and she didn't care much for it. So, with her fingers tangled in the front of her hair, with her forehead resting on the heel of her palm, Evaly thought. Long and hard. About where things went from here.
Finally, chilly, she went back inside, appreciative of the warmth of another body if nothing else. In the cold, clear light of morning, things would be different. For now, she was grateful for companionship and sleep.
Evaly, sitting on the crest of a dune, nursing a bottle of good old rough whiskey in between her heels, looked up to see a vaguely familiar face. Bluerider - lovely, seablue eyes - but she couldn't summon a name to match the face, and she didn't really want to confess that right out. "I didn't," she agreed simply.
What followed was one of those conversations that has neither beginning nor end. And they drank a lot.
Hours later, wrapped in a sheet and standing on the ledge, flickering a tired and headachey smile to the blue that lifted his head and peered at the interloper with curious, glowing eyes, Evaly vacillated between blaming the whiskey and blaming a wholly unfamiliar feeling of rejection. Leaving the Sands, even though there had been little enough hopefulness in her throughout candidacy, there was a gnawing, nagging, quietly insistent sense of being somehow unworthy. That's why she was drinking, she decided, tucking the sheet beneath her while she sat on a slight raise in the stone of the ledge, looking at the Weyr from a height she'd never seen before. And the drinking had lead to... what followed... In the morning, hungover, she would deserve the inevitable awkward scene that would follow.
It was chillier up here - tropical, yes, but autumn nevertheless, and Evaly started to wish she'd taken something more substantial than just a sheet, but she was timid about going back in there just yet. Those seablue eyes had been closed when she slipped from a very disvheveled bed, but if they were open... She colored at the thought of it and turned her attention elsewhere.
She would need some sort of game plan now, for sure. Her father was (rightfully) miffed at her about abandoning the booth for candidacy, and she had a feeling that he wasn't going to let things go back to the way they were just because she hadn't Impressed. She hadn't exactly stumbled across of firelizard eggs yet - which meant she hadn't been making any money since before she accepted search. Her pockets were ridiculously empty, and she didn't care much for it. So, with her fingers tangled in the front of her hair, with her forehead resting on the heel of her palm, Evaly thought. Long and hard. About where things went from here.
Finally, chilly, she went back inside, appreciative of the warmth of another body if nothing else. In the cold, clear light of morning, things would be different. For now, she was grateful for companionship and sleep.