[Log] Real Furniture?
Who: E'sere, Islay
When: Day 8, Month 12, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: Cliffs, Western Islands
What: E'sere runs into Islay.
On a Western Island, Dragonweyr Cliffs
The high cliff on the island's northeast side is pocked with small caverns fitted as dragon weyrs. Most are near the ground, ancient offshoots of the massive main cavern at the cliff's base. The scent and sound of the ocean are constant companions here and the view dizzying-- sky and sea and tropical forest blend into a beautiful tapestry just beyond the ledges of the dragonweyrs.
The wet season is marked by heavy grey and black clouds that hang perpetually in the sky. Some days, the covering is so thick that even midday feels like evening. The rains vary from a steady fall to a heavy relentless pounding, occasionally stopping completely for ten or fifteen minutes.
Contents:
Islay
Chiavelth
Andoath
Obvious Exits:
Residential Cavern (RC) Main Settlement (MS)
There is the sound of pebbles skittering down a narrow, often treacherous footpath as Islay carefully makes her way down from one of the caves dotting the cliff-face. It's barely after dawn, but people are already out and about, heading off for breakfast before the rains begin for the day. The small figure is silhouetted against the dark stone face, and silent, for the most part, except for those loosened shards of rock her feet dislodge. She pauses, steadying herself while a brown dragon watches her descent from a ledge about half-way up the cliffs. The ground is wet, some of the rocks slippery, but she finally makes it to the ledge in front of the largest cavern where most of the residents stay now that the rainy season is here.
E'sere has an easier way down: Morelenth. As the day dawns--if it can be called dawn, considering the clouds coating the sky now--the bronze glides down from his high ledge to drop off a pair of passengers, letting E'sere and Aivey go about their day. At least one of them does, anyway. E'sere lingers at the bronze's side at the cliff, apparently procrastinating a bit.
Pausing in her progress toward the cavern, Islay watches the pair descend on the bronze dragon, saying nothing just watching silently from a short distance away. When Aivey departs, she remains stationary for a moment longer, then ventures forth, offering the bronzerider a nod of greeting and a soft, "Morning," as she moves closer. She has to pass them to continue on to the settlement, after all, and there's no sense in being surly. They all have to share this island, after all, and she's not one to ignore people. "It'll rain soon," she says, probably needlessly, since that's fairly obvious. "Best get breakfast while y'can." Meaning, while it's still dry enough for the cooks to prepare it. Her steps slow, and she regards Morelenth for a moment, then offers the dragon a respectful nod. "He doing all right with th' rain?"
"Oh, he's miserable with it," E'sere says of Morelenth, his own tone cheerful. "And the mud is the worst part. We don't get rain like this back home." His own nose wrinkles at that, but is soon replaced by an easy smile again for Islay. "How are you doing, though?" he asks.
"Doing well enough," Islay replies, glancing once more to the bronze. "Echeloth doesn't seem t'mind it muchly, but he's used to it, I guess." Now her eyes lift upwards toward the ledge where a brown is just stirring. "He's lucky. Got a bit of an overhang up there t'where he can get most of hisself out of th' rain." She shrugs, turning her head back to the rider, a faint smirk on her lips. Not really derisive, but more amused. "You miss it." It's more a statement than a question, and there's a bit of kindness in the tone. "I missed Reaches when I first got here, too. Now...?" She shrugs. "Folks get used t'anything after a while."
"It's a snug fit, getting a dragon Morelenth's size into our weyr," admits E'sere with a shrug. "Especially when Aivey and I would like a little room for ourselves--she's not used to living in close quarters with a dragon, anyway." He casts the woman another smile, nodding in answer to her words. "I do," he affirms. "I lived there my entire life, and it's... It's different, here. But--considering--I think I'm doing all right."
"Ain't heard no complaint's about ya," Islay remarks, leaning back against one of the rocks, folding her arms across her middle, nodding. "Good t'know. Was a bit doubtful at first, but you turned out all right." Her grin is friendly enough, accepting, as she regards E'sere. "I don't miss much, 'cepting a real bed an' food other'n fish." A pause. "An' sweets. I miss those a lot." Another grin. "Course, I was only 'leven when Da an' me got sent here. Guess kids adapt easier n' grown ups."
E'sere nods easily, moving to lean back against Morelenth's side. "I miss... all of it, mostly. My weyr, my wing, the weather and the food and warm baths and nice clothes. But I suppose it really could be worse--you've all been very welcoming of me, moreso than I anticipated, considering. And, I'm sure you're right about that. I had thirty turns to get set in my way, so it's something of a culture shock now."
Islay listens, then nods again, her expression rather neutral, all things considered. "Most folks 'round here ain't bad oncet y'get t'know 'em. Some, like m'Da, don't like 'riders, but they'll leave y'alone 'less'n you piss 'em off 'bout something. It ain't hard t'get along." She glances down toward the beach and the weyrling training area, which is out of sight. "Gotta feel sorry for some of them kids, though. A few of 'em got a lot t'learn 'bout getting along with folks here." She shakes her head, apparently thinking of someone in specific, but not mentioning names. "Folks back there hate us, so Da says. That right?"
E'sere hesitates, then nods once, barely. "They do," he tells Islay. "There's been... a lot of propaganda passed around in ten turns, by the leaders of the world. I'm rather ashamed to admit I fell for it, once. People don't know what you stood for anymore, only what you did--and that, as far as they're concerned, was nothing but hurt people."
A hand lifts to scratch at her cheek, then brushes back a loose strand of hair. "I ain't stood for nothing," Islay admits. "I helped m'Da by listening an' watching while he did stuff. Idala -- that's Paolo's wife -- she was th' one what ratted on us after dragging Da into th' Instigators. He worked with Derek some. I worked in her tavern, 's'all, but she said I helped hurt people an' stole things." A shrug. "So, they sent me here with Da and Paolo. Been here almost longer'n I was there."
"Doesn't really matter to them back there," confesses E'sere. "They have their scapegoats, and that's all they wanted. It seems like everyone here was given up by family or good friends--people who sold you out just so they wouldn't suffer the same fate. It's terrible, really, what people will do to the ones they supposedly care about."
There's a flicker of something behind Islay's eyes at those last words. "Yeah, well, I ain't got no family back there what would care what happened t'me or Da," she says, but turns her head aside, rubbing at one of her arms. "Some here's got folks back there, still, I guess. Not something anyone talks about much. Don't even many call it home, no more. It's just back there 'r th' mainland." She again looks back to E'sere. "You wasn't sent here, though, were you? You come here on your own. Heard that, leastways."
"I don't, either," confesses E'sere. "Considering my family drove me to come here. It will... I doubt I'll ever not think of it as home, but." A shrug. "I came on my own, yes," he affirms, and leaves it at that.
Islay doesn't press for anything further, apparently satisfied with that. She's quiet for a moment, then looks directly at E'sere. "I hear rumor you got real books with ya," she says, licking her lips, then looking down. "I don't 'spose you'd let me see one..." Shy, now. Looking down at her feet. "Been a long time since I seen a real book. Ma used t'read t'me at night a'fore I went t'sleep." A pause. "I can read an' write some, but it's been a real long time since I seen a real book."
E'sere's brows arch at the request, but he nods easily. "I do, actually--I have two or three I happened to have on me when I came, if you'd like to borrow one. They're... Well, they're not gems of literature, precisely, but they'll suffice for lack of anything better. Stop by my weyr later, and you can take a look at them," he offers generously.
Islay nods, still a little embarrassed. "I'd be real careful with 'em," she says earnestly. "I don't stay in th' cavern anymore, so's they'd be safe." Licking her lips again. "L'mon, he's been helping me read better, an' I was thinking that it'd be nice t'read something real. Don't matter what it is, just ... do they talk about what people wear an' eat back there?" she asks. Perhaps there's a little part of the girl that wants to know more about "back there" after all. "I r'member watching people what was dressed real nice once 'r twice. Pretty dresses an' all at Gathers."
"Don't you?" E'sere queries to the first, but not particularly pressingly. He continues instead, "There's... some of that, yes. I think I might know which one you'd like--it's a novel, a--I'm ashamed to admit it--but it's a romance novel, really."
This causes Islay to tilt her head to the side in a questioning manner. "Romance?" she echoes, brow knitting a little. "I don't know if I ever read one of those. Mostly just read what th' Harper told me to 'cause I had to, yanno? Don't r'member reading anything 'bout love." She shrugs, then looks a little uneasy. "That girl of yours, she ain't gonna mind me coming up there?" she asks, tone just a little nervous. "I saw what she did t'th' blonde what you was talking to that one night. I ain't got no hankering to tick her off 'r nothing. Don't like t'fight with folks."
E'sere's grin broadens as Islay asks about Aivey. "Oh, no, no--you've nothing to worry about," he reassures her breezily. "She won't mind. That was... something entirely different," is his comment on the unfortunate stew incident. "It won't be replicated. Just come by around dinner--Morelenth and I will be there."
Islay nods. "I can get there all right from T'gar's weyr. Path's tricky, but I been climbing these rocks since I got here." She grins proudly at this, and there's a touch of color to her cheeks as the sun breaks briefly through the cloud cover. "Hey, lookit!" she says, pointing over Morelenth's back. "Don't say nothing 'r we might scare it away," she adds with a laugh. "Don't see th' sun much this season, but we get snatches of it sometimes early morning." And, just as quickly, the sun goes away. "We get bad storms sometimes here. One comes, best stay inside 'r you'll get blown away."
"Not really a path to mine," says E'sere with a shake of his head. "You'll have to catch a ride with someone--if you like, you can ask Morelenth; he usually stays on the ground to pick up Aivey, anyway, so." A lift of his shoulders; then, he glances upward at the sky as well. "I'll keep that in mind. I thought the rain was bad enough," he tells her.
Islay looks a little dubiously at Morelenth, biting her bottom lip. "Ain't been on no dragon since we got here," she remarks. "Don't know's I'd be able t'get up on him rightly enough, but mebbe Echeloth an' T'gar'll bring me if yer Morelenth's ... busy." She's thoughtful for a moment, then adds, "I appreciate th' loan of a book. If y'need something done, well, I can mebbe help 'r something in return. T'gar's real good at hunting an' making stuff like chairs." She seems very proud of her friend. "He's got a real chair in his cave, even. An' it don't fall apart or nothing, either. Sits real well."
Waving a hand airily, E'sere brushes off Islay's concerns. "It's nothing difficult," he notes. "And neither of us mind, either. And you don't--he has real furniture?" He can't hide the eagerness in his tone at that.
Islay grins. "Just a chair he made, but it's a /real/ chair," she says, chuckling. "He said he was gonna make one for me, too, so's I wouldn't have t'sit on th' floor. It's just pieces of wood tied t'gether with some of those string vines, but it don't shake an' it don't fall apart when y'sit on it, neither." Such a small thing, but it's a source of pride for her, apparently. "I'm sure he could make other things, but ain't much use for fancy stuff here. I think he helped make th' tables what they use down in th' camp, too, but I'm not rightly sure."
"Still, it's furniture," E'sere notes. "I'm never going to get used to sitting and sleeping on the floor all the time--I had a good collection of furniture back in my weyr at home. I wish I could have brought them with me, but. Well." He shrugs, smiles self-effacingly. "Still, I might have to talk to him, see if he wouldn't be willing to help me out."
Islay looks at E'sere for a long moment, then nods. "He might, I guess. He's pretty good about things like that. Mebbe you could trade him some chores 'r something for it." She shrugs. "'S'up t'him, course. He does a lot of th' hunting, an' o'course he flies Thread. You met him that once, down in th' cove, I think." She seems a little softer when talking about T'gar, and there's a pleased expression on her face. "He's been real good t'me, letting me sleep up in his cave. It's nicer'n sleeping in th' cavern with ever'body else. Quieter."
"I imagine sleeping in the cavern isn't very plesant," says E'sere, shaking his head. "I never enjoyed it, before I got my own room. I know T'gar by sight, so I'll ask him next time I see him."
Islay nods. "He's a good man," she says, and she seems very sincere about that, but bites her lip. "If you would, though, would you not mention that's where I'm staying? Like I told you, m'Da don't like riders much, an' I don't want him t'know I'm ... up there." She glances around, almost as if she expects her father to jump out from behind a rock. "I don't want him getting mad at T'gar, 'r accusing him of doing something what he ain't."
E'sere's brows knit, but he nods soberly still. "I understand," he tells her. "I won't mention it. Fathers are... protective of their daughters at the best of times, and when they don't approve of the man she's living with, for occupation or anything else... Well." A wry smile, sympathetic.
There's that flicker again in Islay's eyes, and she wraps her arms around her mid-section. "Ain't protective of /me/," she says, voice very soft, almost sullen. "He just don't like 'riders much, is all. Da don't dare hurt T'gar." There's just the faintest emphasis on the brownrider's name. "Anyway, thanks. I don't see Da much no more, but ain't no need t'look for trouble."
E'sere's frowns deepen, but he nods again. "All right," he repeats. "I won't say anything; you've my word on that much."
"Thanks." It's a mumble, and there's no way Islay is looking at the rider now. "I ... I'd best be getting on down t'find out what I'm 'sposed t'be doing t'day," she says, looking around again. "It don't matter if it's raining 'r not, chores gotta be done." There's a rueful grin. "I d'ruther be up where it's warm an' dry, but ..." She shrugs. "People gotta eat, after all, an' those stupid fish like th' rain." She pushes off the rock, and steps closer to E'sere and Morelenth. "Does he mind if people touch him?" she asks.
E'sere straightens up, glancing around at Morelenth and then back to Islay. "Not really," he answers. "If he does, he'll let you know. I should probably be on my way, too, and see if I can't get to my own work."
Islay nods, stepping closer to the bronze, slowly lifting a hand to the dragon's shoulder. Rough though they might be, used to hard work, when she does touch him, it's gentle. "He's a handsome fellow, E'sere," she says, using the rider's name for probably the first time that day. "Big an' strong." She gives Morelenth a few strokes and then steps away. "Yeah, like Torren says, time an' tide wait for no man. Nor woman, I guess, neither." She grins. "You take care, an' I'll come by for th' book sometime, mebbe t'night if it's not raining. Don't wanna get it wet." With that, she grins, good humor apparently restored, and moves off, waving over her shoulder at the pair. "Take care."
Morelenth consents to the touch, staying still while Islay rubs her hand across him. E'sere smiles again and offers a, "Thank you." Then: "Please, do. I'll be looking for you. Have a good day, Islay." Then he's off, too, to his own chores for the day.