[Log] They Could Handle Him
Who: Andikola, Leyon, Reighley, Zahava
When: Day 26, Month 7, Turn 8
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
What: Reighley meets another Istan.
Inner Caverns
Lower than the Living Cavern above, this room is still a large, bustling place. Hearths heat some of the areas here, allowing elderly and ill residents to rest here rather than mount the steps to the Living Cavern above. Rooms open out to the storerooms, the children's areas, the private rooms of staff members and some of the residents. Laundry rooms and bathing areas down one set of stairs draw near-constant traffic throughout the day.
Two long corridors lead off of here, one to the east and one to the south, going to the 'crafter' and 'staff' hallways respectively. Noise drifts out from the curtain to the northeast that leads to the residents dorms, and a small bubble cavern to the north leads to the 'resident hallway'. A short flight of stairs to the west leads back to the Living Caverns.
Contents:
Zahava
Obvious exits:
Central Stores Records Room Hot Spring StoreRoom Candidates' Barracks Residents' Dorm Guest Room Living Cavern
Zahava
Somewhat large, grey-green eyes are settled deeply beneath the dark-brown arch of eyebrows, a gentle slant running upwards from the inside to the outer corner. Heavy lids end in a fring of long, dark lashes. A cloud of golden blonde hair drapes from head to mid-shoulders, a fine feathering of bangs falling about her face to mid-eye level, some of the longer strands falling almost to her cheekbones. Her hair has just a touch of copper in it, brightening the yellow to a sunny warmth. This style effectively hides her rather small, high-set ears. Her cheekbones are set just a little high, emphasized by a certain hollowness in her cheeks below. The bridge of her nose is rather thin and high, virtually no dip showing in profile from brow to nose. From there, her nose justs straight down her face without wavering, remaining almost entirely the same depth its full length. A pronounced philtrum gives way to a small, slightly narrow mouth with a clear V formed at the top of her upper lip, sloping sharply down to the corners of her mouth. Both lips are full and pink, but the upper is just a little more full than the lower. A pointed chin has the barest line of a cleft to give it character, protruding slightly in profile, full of strength from any angle. Her skin is subtly freckled, never taking on a very deep tan. It is all but impossible to put an age to the young woman. She is probably in her late teens, but could claim a youthful mid-twenties.
Though very slender, Zahava is not a short woman. She stands at a willowy 5'8" with hardly an ounce of extra flesh on her frame, although she is a trifle top-heavy. She wears a long, lightweight dress, loosly in the style of a chiton. Consisting ot two nearly sheer layers, where they overlap, the dress is modestly opaque. The under-layer is like a simple, sleeveless shift of pink cloth that falls from a high, round neckline to her ankles, ending in a beaded fringe. The overlayer is in a light lavendar lace cording along all the hems, and a row of large, pale pink lace flowers along the front hems and edges. It buttons onto her shoulders with three gold buttons, forming sheer mid-arm sleeves. It is worn like a robe, two large decorative cloth butterflies holding it closed, as well as a tie at waist-height. One butterfly clasps the sweetheart neckline closed, while the other rests just below her sternum under a decorative cord that runs where an empire waistline would. From the waistline, the over-dress opens, ending in front at mid-calf, and in back at same ankle-length as the underdress. Matching sandals cover her feet, laces criss-crossing up the length of her foot, and then up to mid-calf.
Stomping out of stores, Reighley is shaking her head and muttering under her breath, a frown on her face. "I can't believe he'd do that. Just--just /kill/ the poor thing like that. It deserved better, don't care if it /is/ a stupid tunnelsnake," is her litany.
Zahava wanders out of one of the many passages that lead off the inner caverns, an utterly confused expression on her face. Her eyes fall on Reighley and brighten a bit with hope, but then turn curious as she watches the girl mutter. "Ista's duties," she offers after a beat.
Reighley glances up quickly at that, blinking. "Ista's--Ista? You're from Ista? There's so many Istans here lately," she exclaims, eyes widening. "I think it's all the new Weyrleader's fault."
Zahava presses her lips together for just a moment, although it might either be announce or amusement, and then she nods. "It likely is," she agrees. "I came to visit him, but he's busy with Weyrleadery things, I guess," she says with a little shrug. "Went to find the privvies, but I seem to have gotten lost. now."
"You came to see him?" Reighley asks, surprised. "How do you know him? I don't kn--well, I met him once, but that was at the clutching and I bet he wouldn't remember me if I met him again. Oh, well. Who cares about the Weyrleader, right? I know the weyrwomen, so. My name's Reighley, by the way. There's a bathroom right down this way," the girl chatters, helpfully pointing on down the hallway.
Zahava smiles wryly as she listens to the girl. "M'yr and I are... friends," she says after a beat. "And I already found the privvies, but I got lost on the way back," she explains, turning to look down the storeroom passage she came out of. And I wouldn't let him hear you suggest he's irrelevant." She nods towards the knot, "If you Impress, chances are, you'll eventually be answering to him."
"Oh." Reighley frowns, glancing downward with furrowed brows and then back up at Zahava. "If he's mean to me, though, Jenna would beat him up. Jenna and Trei--that's my brother. They could handle him," she says, utterly loyal.
Zahava's expression turns a little puzzled for a moment, then she shakes her head slightly. "I didn't mean he'd be mean to you. The Weyrleader, whomever he is, deserves and expects respect from those who ultimately answer to him," she explains. "Weyrleader M'yr isn't a mean type of person," she adds with a smile. "Or he wouldn't be my friend."
Reighley shrugs. "I guess so. I respect him and all, just. Well, if he ever /is/ mean to me, I know what to do." Nodnod. She offers Zahava a grin, earlier bad mood entirely passed over.
Leyon emerges from the Candidates' Barracks.
Leyon has arrived.
Leyon
Leyon's mousy blonde-brown hair has been caught up in a tight bob of a runnertail at the back of his head, held in place by a slim slip of twine. His deep blue eyes are altogether too restless to remain focused on any one spot for long, and it's this constant motion that essentially defines him. His frail-looking, bony arms and legs seem as if they were made to be caught up in activity, never sitting still.
His complexion includes a smattering of freckles across pale white skin, and his physiognomy is overall taut and rather pointy, from the edges of his ears to the tip of his nose to his chin. He's short for his 17 Turns, skinny and ungainly, with an overall appearance that would tend to inspire a mild sense of distaste. "Ugly" is too strong -- but only just.
He wears a simple gray tunic of a coarse but loose material, which only serves to accent his unpleasant angularity and scrawniness all the more. His trousers are a functional brown, his boots the same color, such that they seem to merge into the copious amounts of dried mud crusting their lower half.
Zahava smiles again. "I'll give him an extra caution to be nice to you," Zahava offers. "That is, if you'll tell me your name. I'm Zahava, Ista's Assistant Headwoman."
Reighley and Zahava stand outside the storerooms, talking. Reighley peers at the older woman curiously before asking, "Didn't I say? Huh. Thought I did. Anyway, it's Reighley. My brother's name is Treizen--be sure to tell the Weyrleader he's looking out for me. He's fourteen, so, yeah." As though a fourteen-turn-old were a big threat to a grown man. Reighley grins cheerfully.
Glaring daggers into the candidate barracks, Leyon emerges with his arms crossed across his chest, huffing almost audibly, and walking quite backwards. He doesn't even bother to look over his shoulder as he tromp, tromp, tromps straight backwards. One of the youngsters running through the caverns on the way to a meal or something similar has to zig-zag out of his way, and a drudge hastening to the store rooms is pulled up short when he continues stomping by. His odd march is pulled up short when he thumps right into one of the cavern walls, not all that far from Reighley and Zahava. "Hmph."
"And how old are you?" Zahava asks curiously. "Although, yes, I will be sure to tell him. Treizen you..." she begins, but then registers Leyon's thumping. "Er, hello," she greets the young man, her eyes slipping over his angular features briefly.
Andikola emerges from the Candidates' Barracks.
Andikola has arrived.
Andikola
Standing a petite 5'1" tall, this young lady is both slender and sturdy. Long black hair is kept in a thick braid whose trailing ends curl against her waist. Part of that thick hair has been cut short, forming bangs that frame her face, long enough to cover her eyebrows yet not quite in her eyes. A heart shaped face with large, thickly lashed, deep set hazel green eyes gaze out on the world with a quiet serenity at odds with her youthful appearance. A slender, pert, upturned nose above full lips and a delicately pointed chin and smooth jaw are set above a slender neck. Her arms and legs do not bulge with muscle yet they're not quite slender either. Her hands seem graceful, with long tapering fingers. Her feet however, are large. Long and slender yet large enough to belong to someone a few inches taller than she is.
Her clothes are old and careworn. A beige tunic that appears to be a bit frayed and a pair of black trousers that are more dark gray than black they are so faded. A leather belt that is cracked and peeling holds the trousers up, the tunic tucked neatly into them. An equally worn pair of ill fitting boots adorns those long feet of hers. Boots made for a man. The length works for her feet but the boots are wide and she has had to stuff socks down in them so they don't slop about.
"Twelve," answers Reighley. "And a couple of months. And some-odd days. Hi!" She's distracted almost immediately by Leyon, glancing around at him curiously.
At first Leyon doesn't even answer the pair of greetings given him, busy as he is glowering back the way from which he came. Where Zahava's "Hello" could be relatively ignorable, though, in its hesitancy, Reighley's exclamation catches his attention. "Huh?" He notices the girl and young woman, it would appear, for the first time. "Um, hey, miss. And little girl."
Zahava mouths, 'twelve' with a somewhat disturbed expression on her face. She and Reighley stand talking outside the storerooms, with Leyon nearby. "Ista's duties," she offers politely to the second candidate as her eyes return to him. "Are you all right?"
"Reighley. Say it with me, people: Ray. Lee," the little girl says, exasperated. She entirely misses Zahava's mouthing of her age, which is probably a good thing. "I'm not a little girl." She folds her arms over her chest as she regards Leyon, letting the other woman ask that question.
Andikola walks out of the barracks with a fairly cheerful expression on her face, offering a cheery "Hi Leyon." as she starts to walk past him, the other two nearby come into sight. A cheery sounding greeting starts. "Hi Reigh-" and abruptly cuts off when she sees Zahava. The cheerfulness vanishes and is replaced by a wary expression.
Leyon seems somewhat discomfited by Zahava's offering of duties, hesitating a good long moment before remembering, "Right, Fort's duties." His scowl, which disappeared momentarily in his momentary surprise, is once again noticeably present. It accents his question to the foreigner, which he asks in place of answering her own, rather unpleasantly. "What's an Istan doing here?" Before he has the chance to hear any possible answer, though, Reighley's piping up. "Y'look like a little girl to me." After an exasperated sigh that his chance to enjoy his anger is being interrupted a third time, he nods sharply to Andi.
Zahava blinks once at the unpleasant young man. Her lips part as though to offer an answer for him, but then when he keeps going, they press together once more. Her grey-green eyes shift to Andikola, and, vaguely recognizing her, she offers her a smile, despite the others' lack of friendliness. "Ista's duties," she greets, beginning to sound awfully repetitive at this point.
The wary expression doesn't change on Andi's face as she glances at Leyon, but she offers a polite nod and a quiet "Fort's duties to Ista." as her gaze returns to Zahava. Her eyebrows move into a frown as her attention goes to Reighley. "Right now people think you are. People still think I am too." she commiserates, indicating her own 5'1" height, which is a couple inches shorter than Reighley.
"I'm twelve," Reighley repeats, just in case Leyon didn't catch that part. "That means I'm nearly grown. Now I... I need to go find my brother. I'm supposed to help him with--something." Quickly, she turns, heading down the hall.