Hello, Viviana.
RL Date: 1/22/08
IC Date: 1/11/15
Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs)
The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. The air is redolent with the smell of burning conifer wood blended with the myriad odors of the bakery's spices and the kitchen's succulent offerings. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal.
Viviana sniffs the air experimentally as she enters the cavern proper. In evening crowds, it's hard for the diminituative seamstress to be seen but she manages just fine, smiling flirtatiously as she butts in line, right in front of a lanky brownrider. "Why, thank you sir, you're a gentleman, so gallant." As the poor lad's acne-scarred cheeks redden, Vivy looks up at the boy through her lashes. "Just the sweetest thing ever ... and so strong, why, I would imagine you could carry my tray and yours as well?" As the lad stammers his reply, Viviana places a soft hand on his forearm. "Ever beholden, I'm sure. I'll just sit right here while you get me some of that nice stew and a mug of ale?" And so she sits, not too far from the hearth.
N'thei happens to be seated right by the hearth, happens to be alerted to Viviana's cajoling on account of the snickering that starts at the back of the line. His dinner finished some time ago, his plates still hanging around on the table next to his hearthside chair; leaving him nothing to do but watch the red-faced brownrider skulking along to get a meal for the pretty-pushy girl. "Encouraging to see a young woman exploiting what nature gave her." He speaks in a low sardonic tone, puts the words only loud enough for Viviana to hear once she sits not-too-far.
Viviana turns at the low tone, her lips turned down in displeasure and her eyes narrowed, if only for a split second. With the swiftness of lightning, her expression changes to one much more pleasant. "Exploiting? I am afraid I am not sure what you mean? If that lovely young man wants to help a poor newcomer here, who am I to deny him the pleasure?" Smoothing her skirt and crossing her feet at the ankles in a ladylike fashion, she arranges her thoughts as well. "Aren't riders gallant as a whole?" Her smile is almost genuine. "You are N'thei, if I'm not mistaken? /Weyrleader/ N'thei from what my fellow seamstresses were telling me today?" As the lad looks her way, she wriggles her fingers in his direction, indicating that she's saving him a seat. Managing not to smirk as the boy almost falls over a chair on his way back, she hides her amusement behind a water mug to her lips.
"Ale, is it? Give it here." N'thei beckons to the brownrider with his first two fingers, wiggles them to indicate the mug comes to him and not to Viviana. "Now then, lad. This girl here? She's not going to put out for you. Trust me. So put that plate down and run along." His smile is far from genuine, a beaming thing that has no place amid the rainfall he douses all over Viviana's parade. Done with dressing down the unfortunate rider; "You're not mistaken. Seems you have me at a disadvantage though. What's your name, pretty?"
Viviana opens and closes her mouth like a pretty little guppy as the weyrleader takes /her/ ale. "That's not very nice, not nice at all." Calling after the lad, she speaks her thanks. "A gentleman, I know you were just being kind and I thank you." Now that was genuine. "Come, sit..." As the young rider scurries off to lick his wounds she sighs. "Not very nice at all, is this the common practice of a weyr?" Poking at her stew with a fork, she sighs. "Too much meat but he meant well and I am Vivy -- Viviana, from River's Edge minor hold....sir."
N'thei tests the brew, passes its taste with a hitch of his eyebrows neither pleased nor disappointed. He wipes his lips of Viviana's ale with the heel of his hand and comes away smiling; "No it's not very nice, you're right. Neither is making whipped puppies out of boys who haven't learned to manage their hormones yet." Tongue clucked, he reaches forward to offer a friendly hand toward the girl. "Pleasure Vivy, what brings you? No one left to do your bidding at River's Edge?"
Viviana reluctantly holds her hand out, shaking his for politeness sake only, swiftly removing her hand in pretense of picking up her fork again. "Please, do join me, sir. And I wasn't whipping anyone, just asking for help is all." She frowns at his question. "My brothers and father are at River's Edge and it was the other way around, they were constantly telling /me/ what to do, not the other way around. It was time for me to find my own way and eventually, they saw things my way..." She makes a healthy dint into her stew, attacking the meat chunks first.
"'Hold this mug while I make a plate, will you?' That's asking for help." N'thei releases Viviana's hand as quickly as she means to retrieve it, a shine in his eyes and smile. "You were a lash-bat short of cliche feminine incompetence." He looks silly to flutter his eyes at her in a mockery of flirtation, results in a woman at a nearby table nearly choking while she eavesdrops. Doubt; "Your father sent so tender a young thing off to a weyr alone?"
Viviana scowls. "That's what I asked but as his hands are much bigger than mine, I thought it'd be more efficient if he held the ale as well." Her expression changes yet again, this time to mischievous. "Restraint is always a good virtue, knowing how far one should go, even to the batting of a lash.." Giggling freely now, most of her pretense gone, she admits. "No, I came along with my brother as he delivered our tithes and eventually, he saw that I was well able to care for myself and he promised he'd talk to Da upon his return. After all, I'm fifteen turns of age and a free woman of Pern." Sitting ramrod straight, she tries to add an extra inch to her frame.
N'thei permits a smidgeon of respect to work its way into his voice; "And quite the little liar too." Respect goes away, replaced with mockery. "Da must be so proud of his little girl." He finishes her ale in a couple of deep swallows, sets the mug on the table next to her plate like it belonged to her all along. "You're too young to be so manipulative, Viv. Vivy?"
Viviana frowns. "I didn't lie!" Stomping her pretty little foot is ineffective as she is seated. "I told them the truth, that there was no life for me out at the 'edge. And they wanted me to start leathercraft..." She holds out her pristine, uncalloused hands. "There wasn't much of a call for what I was talented in out there.." She's swift to continue, hoping to hold off snarky comments. "Embroidery, fancy stitching,that sort of thing. And I'm ....I'm persuasive, that's different than manipulative!" Stabbing at a tender piece of herdbeast, she breaks it apart so it's a more lady-like bite. Chewing, then swallowing, she nods. "Viviana. I'm too old to be called Vivy. That's for little girls."
There's hardly a need for snarky commentary with a snicker and a smirk the likes of N'thei's; it might go unsaid, but ohhh how it's implied. His glance stays on her pretty hands longer than she reveals them, rises slowly upward till he's back to looking toward her eyes. "You're right. Persuasive is different than manipulative. So is defensive. --Viviana. My mistake."
Viviana is silent as she eats. Glancing across the table, she frowns. Uncertain what to say in reply. "I was just correcting your false impression, manipulative? That'd be trying to get someone to do something they didn't want to do by lying to them. I didn't say a word to that sweet boy over there that held any promise beyond a /nice/ conversation over dinner." Eyeihg tthe ale with a look of longing, she pushes her half emptied dish away. "Good conversation aids one's digestion, any healer'll tell you that. Even the old fuddy out at the 'Edge."
"False impression." N'thei lingers a lecher's look over Viviana's promising curves, one that summarizes with a derisive laugh. "Enjoy your supper, Viviana. Good luck." He stands on that odd remark for the parting of ways, keeps up his droll expression to shake his head disapprovingly at the young woman.
Definitely out of her league now, Viviana blushes and squirms in her chair, not daring to look up until his eyes stop their roving. "Good luck? Well met, Weyrleader and clear skies." Her facade limp and listless, the girl looks more like her true age as she sits uncertain. Keeping her eyes on her meal, she meekly pulls the plate back to poke at the tubers.
You wander outside to the bowl.
IC Date: 1/11/15
Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs)
The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. The air is redolent with the smell of burning conifer wood blended with the myriad odors of the bakery's spices and the kitchen's succulent offerings. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal.
Viviana sniffs the air experimentally as she enters the cavern proper. In evening crowds, it's hard for the diminituative seamstress to be seen but she manages just fine, smiling flirtatiously as she butts in line, right in front of a lanky brownrider. "Why, thank you sir, you're a gentleman, so gallant." As the poor lad's acne-scarred cheeks redden, Vivy looks up at the boy through her lashes. "Just the sweetest thing ever ... and so strong, why, I would imagine you could carry my tray and yours as well?" As the lad stammers his reply, Viviana places a soft hand on his forearm. "Ever beholden, I'm sure. I'll just sit right here while you get me some of that nice stew and a mug of ale?" And so she sits, not too far from the hearth.
N'thei happens to be seated right by the hearth, happens to be alerted to Viviana's cajoling on account of the snickering that starts at the back of the line. His dinner finished some time ago, his plates still hanging around on the table next to his hearthside chair; leaving him nothing to do but watch the red-faced brownrider skulking along to get a meal for the pretty-pushy girl. "Encouraging to see a young woman exploiting what nature gave her." He speaks in a low sardonic tone, puts the words only loud enough for Viviana to hear once she sits not-too-far.
Viviana turns at the low tone, her lips turned down in displeasure and her eyes narrowed, if only for a split second. With the swiftness of lightning, her expression changes to one much more pleasant. "Exploiting? I am afraid I am not sure what you mean? If that lovely young man wants to help a poor newcomer here, who am I to deny him the pleasure?" Smoothing her skirt and crossing her feet at the ankles in a ladylike fashion, she arranges her thoughts as well. "Aren't riders gallant as a whole?" Her smile is almost genuine. "You are N'thei, if I'm not mistaken? /Weyrleader/ N'thei from what my fellow seamstresses were telling me today?" As the lad looks her way, she wriggles her fingers in his direction, indicating that she's saving him a seat. Managing not to smirk as the boy almost falls over a chair on his way back, she hides her amusement behind a water mug to her lips.
"Ale, is it? Give it here." N'thei beckons to the brownrider with his first two fingers, wiggles them to indicate the mug comes to him and not to Viviana. "Now then, lad. This girl here? She's not going to put out for you. Trust me. So put that plate down and run along." His smile is far from genuine, a beaming thing that has no place amid the rainfall he douses all over Viviana's parade. Done with dressing down the unfortunate rider; "You're not mistaken. Seems you have me at a disadvantage though. What's your name, pretty?"
Viviana opens and closes her mouth like a pretty little guppy as the weyrleader takes /her/ ale. "That's not very nice, not nice at all." Calling after the lad, she speaks her thanks. "A gentleman, I know you were just being kind and I thank you." Now that was genuine. "Come, sit..." As the young rider scurries off to lick his wounds she sighs. "Not very nice at all, is this the common practice of a weyr?" Poking at her stew with a fork, she sighs. "Too much meat but he meant well and I am Vivy -- Viviana, from River's Edge minor hold....sir."
N'thei tests the brew, passes its taste with a hitch of his eyebrows neither pleased nor disappointed. He wipes his lips of Viviana's ale with the heel of his hand and comes away smiling; "No it's not very nice, you're right. Neither is making whipped puppies out of boys who haven't learned to manage their hormones yet." Tongue clucked, he reaches forward to offer a friendly hand toward the girl. "Pleasure Vivy, what brings you? No one left to do your bidding at River's Edge?"
Viviana reluctantly holds her hand out, shaking his for politeness sake only, swiftly removing her hand in pretense of picking up her fork again. "Please, do join me, sir. And I wasn't whipping anyone, just asking for help is all." She frowns at his question. "My brothers and father are at River's Edge and it was the other way around, they were constantly telling /me/ what to do, not the other way around. It was time for me to find my own way and eventually, they saw things my way..." She makes a healthy dint into her stew, attacking the meat chunks first.
"'Hold this mug while I make a plate, will you?' That's asking for help." N'thei releases Viviana's hand as quickly as she means to retrieve it, a shine in his eyes and smile. "You were a lash-bat short of cliche feminine incompetence." He looks silly to flutter his eyes at her in a mockery of flirtation, results in a woman at a nearby table nearly choking while she eavesdrops. Doubt; "Your father sent so tender a young thing off to a weyr alone?"
Viviana scowls. "That's what I asked but as his hands are much bigger than mine, I thought it'd be more efficient if he held the ale as well." Her expression changes yet again, this time to mischievous. "Restraint is always a good virtue, knowing how far one should go, even to the batting of a lash.." Giggling freely now, most of her pretense gone, she admits. "No, I came along with my brother as he delivered our tithes and eventually, he saw that I was well able to care for myself and he promised he'd talk to Da upon his return. After all, I'm fifteen turns of age and a free woman of Pern." Sitting ramrod straight, she tries to add an extra inch to her frame.
N'thei permits a smidgeon of respect to work its way into his voice; "And quite the little liar too." Respect goes away, replaced with mockery. "Da must be so proud of his little girl." He finishes her ale in a couple of deep swallows, sets the mug on the table next to her plate like it belonged to her all along. "You're too young to be so manipulative, Viv. Vivy?"
Viviana frowns. "I didn't lie!" Stomping her pretty little foot is ineffective as she is seated. "I told them the truth, that there was no life for me out at the 'edge. And they wanted me to start leathercraft..." She holds out her pristine, uncalloused hands. "There wasn't much of a call for what I was talented in out there.." She's swift to continue, hoping to hold off snarky comments. "Embroidery, fancy stitching,that sort of thing. And I'm ....I'm persuasive, that's different than manipulative!" Stabbing at a tender piece of herdbeast, she breaks it apart so it's a more lady-like bite. Chewing, then swallowing, she nods. "Viviana. I'm too old to be called Vivy. That's for little girls."
There's hardly a need for snarky commentary with a snicker and a smirk the likes of N'thei's; it might go unsaid, but ohhh how it's implied. His glance stays on her pretty hands longer than she reveals them, rises slowly upward till he's back to looking toward her eyes. "You're right. Persuasive is different than manipulative. So is defensive. --Viviana. My mistake."
Viviana is silent as she eats. Glancing across the table, she frowns. Uncertain what to say in reply. "I was just correcting your false impression, manipulative? That'd be trying to get someone to do something they didn't want to do by lying to them. I didn't say a word to that sweet boy over there that held any promise beyond a /nice/ conversation over dinner." Eyeihg tthe ale with a look of longing, she pushes her half emptied dish away. "Good conversation aids one's digestion, any healer'll tell you that. Even the old fuddy out at the 'Edge."
"False impression." N'thei lingers a lecher's look over Viviana's promising curves, one that summarizes with a derisive laugh. "Enjoy your supper, Viviana. Good luck." He stands on that odd remark for the parting of ways, keeps up his droll expression to shake his head disapprovingly at the young woman.
Definitely out of her league now, Viviana blushes and squirms in her chair, not daring to look up until his eyes stop their roving. "Good luck? Well met, Weyrleader and clear skies." Her facade limp and listless, the girl looks more like her true age as she sits uncertain. Keeping her eyes on her meal, she meekly pulls the plate back to poke at the tubers.
You wander outside to the bowl.