[Log] Sweets and Linens

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Acadia, F'niah, Reighley
When: Day 11, Month 3, Turn 8
Where: Central Storeroom, Fort Weyr
What: Reighley helps first Acadia and then F'niah search through the stores.

Central Stores Cavern
     The cavern is large with age worn shelves on the left and right walls reaching from floor to ceiling. The contents of the shelves are carefully organized by type, ranging from cloth items (clothes, towels, rugs, etc.) on the far left to dried and preserved foods towards the center and right. From there, after inventory, they are moved to their prospective caverns through the rough hewn arches in the back. Each arch has a door that is usually locked. The glows are placed throughout the cavern and the scent of the air is dry and fresh from the cleaning in preparations for the coming tithe trains. The floor is scrubbed regularly not giving any stain a chance to linger for long.
     The recently repaired crack from the previous tremor has split and splintered in the latest one, sending tiny fissures above and below it. Shelving nearest the crack has fallen, leaving that area of the cavern unusable.

Contents:
Acadia

Obvious exits:
Tunnel Inner Caverns Leaking Cavern Kitchen Stores

Acadia
     Acadia is a young woman with straight dark hair that brushes her shoulders and pale skin unmarked by any visible scars. Violet eyes peek out from under long, lush eyelashes and arching eyebrows. A cute little nose is paired with a gamine smile, at least most of the time. She stands five and a half feet tall and much of that is taken up by long, muscular legs, giving the illusion she's taller than she really is. Her slender form bears the gentle curves common to her gender.
     Acadia is wearing her flying leathers. A rich russet brown jacket trimmed in black and lined with fur is paired with matching trousers and knee-high boots. The lines in the leathers are highlighted with black stitching, and the cuffs of the boots are trimmed in fur. The left shoulder of the jacket shows a brand-new Skysentry patch and a wingleader's knot peeks out from underneath it. A belt shot through with a woven line of brown leather, buckled with a dragon-embossed round cinches her waist.
     Acadia is 23 Turns, 6 months, and 4 days of age.

Acadia is on her knees digging through a box and muttering to herself. "I know they're here. You can't hide them from me, you welsher. You owe me!" The rest of what she says is lost in the sound of rustling.

Light footsteps carry Reighley into the stores, though they pause just past the doorway as she gets her bearings in the unfamiliar room. The girl glances around and then starts down the line of shelves, tracing a hand along their edge. When she hears Acadia, though, she pauses again and then ventures onward. "Acadia?"

Acadia looks up at hearing her name, freezing until she realizes who's there. "Oh, it's you. Here, help me dig through the boxes along this wall. I'm looking for the hard mint candies Sephra owes me. She lost the bet, but refused to pay up."
Reighley blinks in surprise, cocking her head as she goes to sit beside Acadia, legs folded under her. "Um, okay," she agrees, reaching for a box and shuffling her fingers through it idly. "What was the bet?" she wonders as she searches.

Acadia pulls out a small bag and opens it only to discover children's marbles. "Whoops, no luck. Oh, the bet? Sephra and I were playing dragonpoker, and I bluffed her with a pair. She's been refusing to pay up ever since." After putting the marbles back where she found them she pulls out another box. "What have you been up to lately?"

F'niah enters though the double doors from the Inner Cavern
F'niah has arrived.

F'niah
     Layers of lean muscle soften this man's six-foot two-inch frame. Though wide shoulders skim to trim hips, and down through athletically-toned legs, it's his hands that catch attention: overlarge like puppy paws. Silky bronze-brown hair has been cut knuckle-long all over his head. Eyes of muted green appraise the world from over an aquiline nose. A decidedly lantern jaw ends his not-unpleasant face, but the finishing touch is an air of near-constant alarm that bodes ill for breakables. Sef has the sort of face that ages well, though he's probably between 33 and 38 Turns.
     Undyed cotton and wool have been worked together into a bulky sweater, marled khaki and white sprinkled with darker brown. Folded collar tucks just under his chin, while sleeves reach to the base of his thumb, and hem hangs past his hips: all suggesting that this garment was made for someone quite a bit more muscular. Tough black-brown wherhide makes up his trous, color and hide alike softened at seat and knee. Newer boots complete the look; wax hardened wherhide make them waterproof.

Reighley, tugging loose another small pouch, peeks inside and then replaces it, methodically sorting through her box before setting it back in place. "A girl said she'd teach me how to play cards," she remarks meanwhile. "But she hasn't yet. Is a pair really good? Why won't she pay you? I've been, well. Not much, really. I helped fix a gate today, though," she says proudly.

Acadia chuckles and says, "No, a pair isn't good. But I fooled her into thinking I had a better hand, so she gave up. Then when she saw my cards afterwards she got mad and said she wouldn't pay a liar. Heck, that's the name of the game in dragonpoker." She keeps rummaging through her box and asks, "What gate did you fix Reighley?"

A hollow bang from the direction of the doors signals the entrance of another person into stores -- at least one other person, that is. Shortly thereafter F'niah's lean frame can be spotted moving from aisle to aisle, peering down each one and frowning. He stops on spotting the two, weight shifting from foot to foot, then daringly plunges in after them. Stops five or so feet away with a crisp salute and a, "Wingleader." Glances Reighley's way, and adds a, "Miss."

Reighley grins at Acadia, pausing in her second box. "Heh. I get it," she agrees, nodding. "It was one down by the lake--Nico and I did it together. I helped hold the nails for him while he hit them, and he didn't even hit my fingers once." She holds them all up and wiggles them for proof. Then, startled by the noise, she glances around at F'niah with wide eyes. "Oh, hi!" she greets him, a pleased blush overtaking her cheeks at his title for her.

Acadia looks up at the new voice, and up some more. She rises to her own height, but it doesn't help much. "Hello there. What brings you to Central Stores? Are you looking for hidden treasures too?"

F'niah says "Um, no," shooting Reighley half of a grin before refocusing on Acadia. "F'niah, blue Saneth's. Recently returned from Benden and I think they've reorganized since I was here last. I don't want to interrupt, but can you tell me where the linens are?"

Reighley glances between F'niah and Acadia curiously. "I haven't seen them," she admits. "We're looking for candy for a bet," is her added explanation, as she lifts the box before her slightly to indicate it. Then, it's back to rustling through it in the search.

Acadia points to a section of shelves away from where they had been looking and says, "I think they're over there. Nico and I found them when we were looking for socks for him a couple of weeks ago. Umm, you mean bed linens right F'niah?"

"Bed linens, yeah," he answers, relaxing slightly with another grin for Reighley. "I didn't know they kept candy in here. Never did when I was a Candidate, anyway. Wouldn't it be in the kitchen?"

"Did you search for it a lot?" asks Reighley curiously. And then, with an impish grin: "But that was a long time ago. I mean, you impressed with /Jenna/."

Acadia grabs another box to look through, a small one this time. "Normally, yes. But this is /my/ candy that Sephra hid. The cooks won't let me in the kitchens to make more, so I need this. And I promise you that if I don't find it tonight I'll strand her on top of an ice mountain until she tells me where it is!" Her voice rises slowly until the last word is nearly a shout.

"It wasn't -that- lon..." F'niah starts to protest, only to be overridden by Acadia's yelling. His eyebrows go up slowly. Creep up, really. "...Uh," he offers, shooting Reighley another look, this one full of, 'lookit the crazy lady'. "Well, um, ma'am," see the bluerider tiptoe through the conversation, "I'll just go... um, look over there." He sort of nods toward the indicated linen shelves but really, anywhere would be better than here.

Reighley cringes slightly at the yelling, blinking up at Acadia. Quickly, though, she focuses on F'niah instead. "I'll help you," she volunteers quickly. "Maybe the candy's in there somewhere." And she stands, trotting that way already.

Acadia pounces on a tiny box hidden in the bigger box. She opens it and there is her treasure. "Aha, success!" Further speech is muffled when she pops one in her mouth happily.

"Oh good," the bluerider manages, and then he's moving away quickly, herding Reighley before him like she was a flock of ducks. "Well, um, clear skies!" Off they go down an aisle and at least two over before he slows, much less stops.

Reighley breaks into another grin at Acadia's success, though it lingers only a moment longer before F'niah hustles her off. Peeking back over her shoulder when they slow, she notes in an aside to the man, "Boy, that's... weird. Usually she's really nice."

"Wouldn't be surprised if she was proddy," F'niah says sotto-voice, daring a peek around a corner before ducking back to safety. Big brave Threadfighting bluerider, hiding with a little girl. "Or her green is, anyway. Who is she, anyway?"

Acadia swallows and says, "Oh, I forgot! I'm Acadia, Skysentry Wingleader, green Inneth's. She's the woozle hunter around here." She offers the two a wave before trotting out the door. This was she doesn't have to share her candy.

Acadia passes though the double doors to the inner caverns
Acadia has left.

"What's a woozle?" Reighley asks F'niah curiously, blinking as her eyes trail Acadia out. She shakes her head, then glances up at the man. "Proddy?" she repeats the word, unfamiliar to her holdbred ears. "You mean like--" But she won't finish.

So much for hiding. "What's a what-le? Uh... no idea." Sef takes another peek, but the bang of the doors suggests that Acadia's made their escape. He relaxes almost comically, sagging against the shelves. "Proddy, yeah. Like her green's gonna... um." He takes another good long look of the girl, top to bottom and back. Bluntly, "Are you weyrbred?"

"Not exactly," Reighley admits, wrinkling her nose. "I've only been here a couple of months. I'm from a hold, Riverside Hold. It's nice there--have you heard of it? It's kind of near Fort." Pause. Back on the subject: "But, oh. I think I--yeah. I was talking to these older girls, who /are/ weyrbred, and..." That blush intensifies.

F'niah ahs, pushes himself upright again. With a gesture he heads toward the linens once more, talking over his shoulder. "I know Riverside, yes. That's the one with the double barns and the big boulder, right? I'm from Tualatin myself. Originally, that is. --But if you've been here that long you've seen a proddy greenrider already. I figure that one is too."

"Ooh, I know where that one is!" says Reighley excitedly. "I've seen it--my daddy has a big map of the whole area, and it's on there. And yeah, that's ours. It's really nice. Except, well. I don't go around the barns, anyway. The runners are scary," she admits in an undertone.

That brings another quick grin to the older man's face and nearly walks him into a shelf since he's not looking where he's going. A quick sidestep and he pays attention this time, lifting his voice to say, "Yeah, Tualatin. With the waterfall. --Oh yeah? I never really liked runners either. My sisters liked 'em plenty. I kept falling off."

Reighley grins slightly. "I've never ridden one," she admits. "One of the stablehands, Keevin, I think his name was, offered to help me, but I wouldn't. They're just so big! They might trample me. Or bite. That'd hurt a lot." She shrugs, though, and only then seems to notice the shelves around them again. "What was it you were looking for again?" she asks after a moment.

F'niah says "Bed linens. --Yeah, they are big. Not as big as dragons, of course, but they're not as smart, either." Something brings another grin to his expressive face, but he doesn't share. Unless, "I remember Keevin. I think he was just starting out in the stables when I knew him, unless I'm thinking of someone else," is particularly amusing.

Reighley grins. "Dragons aren't scary, though," she protests. "Because they /are/ smart. Anybody can see that, just looking at them. But. Why do you need new linens?" And, without pausing, she slips cheerfully to his latter words, noting, "I think he's been there a while now. I met his son, too. He's even younger than me!"

F'niah ducks down a fabric-filled aisle. Linens and things, hooray! "I was unpacking some of the things I'd brought from Benden, and bugs'd gotten into my spares. So. Unless I want to sleep on holey sheets - which I don't," he adds with a quick look her way, "I need new. It's not desperate, but I had the free time tonight." He doesn't add anything to the information about Keevin save a, "Huh," and a nod.

Reighley grimaces. "Ew, that's gross. Bugs are scary, too," she notes, following him down the aisle. "It sounds pretty urgent to me. I mean, how can you sleep without sheets and stuff?" She stands on her tiptoes to peek in a box of old clothes, moving on quickly in the search for the proper carton.

F'niah admits, "Well, I -do- have more than one set." Doesn't everyone? He moves after her, using his height to check the higher baskets, boxes, and stacks. "--Are you fostered here, Reighley? Or do your parents live here?"

"Oh," says Reighley then, pinkening again. "I guess that makes sense." She steps aside to let him look in the higher boxes, while she concentrates on lower ones. "I'm fostered, me and my brother. My aunt lives here, and her family, and Mom thought we needed to see more of the world than just Riverside, you know? You know how small it is, so." She shrugs equably.

"I know. --Huh." He 'huhs' at a length of white cotton, but pulling it out farther reveals the chunks taken out of the sides. "Shel... um," there's a guilty glance down at the girl and he swallows the rest of the expletive. "I was at Harper for a while before I was searched here. So I know what you're talking about." He refolds the fabric (sort of) and shoves it back into the basket. No one will know.

"Don't curse," Reighley says automatically as she catches the beginning of that word. She glances around and fakes a stern look at his folding. "The headwoman will be very unhappy with you when she finds that," she says, before giggling. Then: "You were a harper? Really? What was it like?" she asks curiously.

F'niah blushes like a guilty schoolboy. "It was, um. Well. I wasn't apprenticed all that long. Half a turn, I think? It was... it was lots of lessons. I didn't get much specialized training, you know? They liked my lyrics, I guess. Then Lapeth found me on Search, and..." She can probably guess the rest.

Reighley grins up at F'niah, triumphant at his blush. "Really? Your lyrics--song lyrics?" she asks. "What sort of things did you write? I've been thinking, see, about what craft I could maybe do, and I don't know. I don't sing well, or play anything at all, but they can teach you that, right?

F'niah shrugs off the question and moves on to the next basket. "Just... songs. All sorts. Silly things, really. Harper's a good craft, though. I can't sing, but I write. Or there's lawyers there. People who pass information, too. All sorts."

Reighley, leaning over to rustle through a box, notes, "You should get somebody to play one of them. There's got to be someone here, in this whole big Weyr, who can play them for you. I mean, just because you impressed doesn't mean you have to give everything else up completely." Pause. She straightens, brows knitting as she turns to look at the bluerider again. "Do you?" is her earnest question.

He isn't looking at her, he's exploring another box. "Do I what? Do I still play? Oh, every so often. Pipes, mostly. I was never really good at composing music, though. Certainly not even to journeyman level."

"Do you have to give up everything else when you impress," Reighley corrects, still watching him. "I don't think I'd like that. I mean, if you could still fight Thread, I guess it would be different, but. I don't even really remember what that was like, though," she notes as she turns back to another low-lying box. She pulls it out to peek inside and then tugs loose a length of fabric. "Hey, would this work?" she wonders, settling the box down and pulling the cotton sheet free, tangling herself in the process.

F'niah huhs again and turns, quickly stepping to try and help unravel girl from sheet. It's performance art! "Maybe? ...I mean no, you don't have to... well, um. When there was Thread we did. Mostly. There wasn't a lot of time to, to do what we wanted. Now, though..."

Reighley steps carefully out of the sheet, with F'niah's help freeing her hands and feet from it again. She eyes it with a frown and notes, "That wasn't very nice. I don't think it wants to go home with you." She casts another grin up to the rider. "Now it's different," she finishes. "You fought Thread, right? What was it like?"

F'niah's return smile fades under the question. "Terrifying," he answers flatly. "Every time we lost friends, wingmates. The injuries were... I don't want to talk about it." Briskly he starts winding the sheet in his arms like taffy. "You're too young, Reighley. Ask me again in a few turns, if you're still curious."

Reighley glances downward, frowning. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry," she offers tentatively. "I didn't mean to--well. I'm sorry." She's blushing faintly as she looks back up to watch the sheet-folding. "You, uh. You don't fold a lot of stuff, do you?" she ventures after a moment.

Perhaps this is why there were insects in his laundry. He blinks at her, then down at the wad in his arms. "Uh. Well, not these. I was just going to take them up and make my bed. They don't have to be folded for that."

Reighley raises an eyebrow, looking older for the gesture. "Uh-huh," she answers skeptically. "My mom always made me fold everything. Here, let me do it. It's really not that hard." And she reaches for the sheets to fix them properly.

"You can't fold sheets by yourself," he protests. "...Really, Reighley, don't worry. Just see if there's another one to match this one, will you?"

"It's not hard," Reighley protests, frowning. "You just think I'm too little." Decidedly sulky, she turns back to the box that offered the first sheet, rustling through it and then the one beside when the first yields no further finds.

F'niah says "It's not that you're too little..." as he tries to find one end without letting the rest of it fall on the floor. It doesn't work particularly well, leaving him with a single edge somewhere from the middle of the wad, "it's that they're too big. And Saneth's starting to fret."

Reighley, continuing to check boxes, only nods in answer and finally comes up with a second sheet to match. "Here's another one," she notes. "But--" a glance, rather dubious, to the mess in his arms "--maybe you can put them all in a box? I can move the rest of this stuff into that other one now, and then it'll be empty. That'd be a lot easier--if you dropped them on Saneth, he'd get all tangled up in them, I bet, or maybe claw them up," observes the girl, holding up the second box. And, with a little of her usual curiousity: "Why is he upset?"

F'niah sighs, "Because he's Saneth. Because I've left him too long. Because I'm talking to you - he doesn't particularly like children, you see." Apologetic, that. "Because he thinks it might rain. But mostly... because he's Saneth. --That'll do. And if you can find an empty bag or something, that'd be a help. You're right, he'll just want to help and then there'll be a mess. Ah!" The 'ah' is for a bag spotted; he heads that way with long strides.

"So... he just likes to worry?" wonders Reighley as she empties one box carefully into another. "I'm not a child," she adds, though mildly. "I'm eleven and almost three-quarters now." She has the boxes ready, one full of the remaining items and the other empty in her arms as she takes a couple of steps after F'niah on his quest.

"From the day he Hatched," he agrees, stopping at the pile of empty sacks. "Ah, perfect. --And no, you're not a child, not at that age. But I could have said female, and been about as right. Saneth's... um. He's just Saneth, I guess. Could you hold one of these open and I'll..." Turns, looks chagrined at the empty box. "Oh. You've got one already. Sure, we can use that."

Reighley just grins at that. "Oh, well. I guess that makes it all right. He sounds like trouble to me," she notes, giggling as she uses a knee to hold the box in place clumsily while she opens the flaps for him.

F'niah says "He's just Saneth," with the sheepish dippy grin most riders get when discussing their lifemates. "...There, great." The sheet is successfully corraled in the box and he straightens, hoisting it easily. "I sorta hope that dragon of hers is big. Means..." He studies her, then continues, "Means he won't chase."

Reighley eyes F'niah's grin with an equal one of her own--even in her short experience at the Weyr, she understands that much. Though, she knits her brows again and glances at the door. "Whose? Acadia's? Oh, I've met Inneth before, but I didn't really pay that much attention to how big she was. Sorry. Why does he not like big dragons?"

F'niah starts for the doorway, trusting Reighley to follow, explaining as he goes. "Saneth's small for a blue. A number of greens are larger than he is, which makes him nervous. So he only chases the greens who are smaller than him." Simple logic. Really. "I'll have to introduce you sometime. If you want to make him happy, make sure to tell him he's the right size."

Reighley trails obligingly after F'niah, giggling again at his description of his blue. "Oh, I see. That makes sense. I'm scared of things bigger than me, too. I'll be sure to tell him that, though," she promises.

"It'd be appreciated," says the man over his shoulder. "As was all your help tonight. Sorry A...cadia? didn't share her candy with you, but she was making -me- nervous. Are you going to be all right walking back to your, um, family's rooms?"

"Acadia, right," agrees Reighley, nodding. "It's okay. Maybe she'll offer me some when she gets to feeling better? Anyway, um. Well, you're welcome," she notes, cheeks coloring slightly again. "Don't worry, though. I'll be fine. It isn't really far from here."

F'niah says, "If you're sure." He doesn't immediately head for the living caverns, but stands and watches after her for a few moments. Only then does he turn and make his way up the steps.