[Log] Hitting It Off
Who: Olwyn, Tiriana
When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 10
Where: Lakeshore, Telgar Weyr
What: Olwyn and Tiriana meet. It... goes.
Telgar Weyr Lake Shore
The vegetation thickens near the lake, becoming a meadow that runs along the edge of a narrow, sandy beach. The sands spill down into a crystal lake to the north, lapping against the crater walls to the north and east. A fence runs northwest-southeast, blocking off the lake from the feeding grounds. The grass is thick with autumn, and the long strands are beginning to seed. The few trees that stand on the banks of the lake are in their full splendor with leaves of red, gold, and brown. There are dark green water lilies on the lake, but they are no longer blossoming. In one corner of the meadow, Telgar's herb garden makes the air thick with the smell of mint and thyme, and the chives are in full bloom. Around it, a few fall flowers are blossoming. The red shades of sunset cast the meadow into deep, but peaceful shadows.
Contents:
PLAYERS: Olwyn Tiriana
OTHER: Springy Diving Board
Obvious Exits:
Bowl Lake
Olwyn
Olwyn is a young woman of 16 Turns, 7 months, and 15 days just working her way out of the awkwardness of adolescence. Her height is average, about 5'5", with her build matching, neither scrawny nor plump. Long auburn hair tumbles in only semi-controlled waves midway down her back. Wisps of it frame an oval face with well-defined eyebrows, slightly-upturned nose, and stubborn chin. Grey-green eyes brighten and darken with different moods and outfits.
Wyn wears well-worn, but carefully cared for clothing. Her trousers, faded to no particular color, are neatly patched at the knees. A faded blue tunic wraps its soft folds around her upper body and is cinched by a wide leather belt. Boots reach to her mid-calf, old, but rubbed soft with oil and as cared for as the rest of her clothing.
Tiriana
Already, she has her parents' height, 5'5" and still with the girlishly round face of a child. Tiriana looks to be in her early teens, thirteen or maybe fourteen with her height; she has a slim build, still in that awkward gawky phase of her life. She has a pretty face, boasting a narrow, straight nose and full lips well-versed in poutiness. Her eyes defy decription as either blue or green. Tiriana has, too, a pale complexion boasting a few faint freckles, her face framed by curly black hair that reaches her mid-back.
For all her coltishness, Tiriana has a confident way of moving and an expert smirk. She dresses practically, in pants and tunics, favoring bright colors for her shirts. Her shoes are almost always a pair of decidedly unfeminine boots.
It's a cold night at Telgar, and while some might still call it autumn, for those like Olwyn who are just adjusting to the harsh weather, it's as cold as winter. She wraps her arms around herself for extra warmth as she crunches through the snow near the lake shore. The light snow falling isn't enough to yet cover the tracks the show her wandering path along the edge of the water, far enough away to stay dry. Thankfully for the unacclimated teen, the wind isn't blowing at the moment.
The cold doesn't seem to phase Tiriana, though, because while she's dressed warmly enough she's outside, scuffing her boots through the snow as she winds around the lake, watching said feet. When she notices someone else making the same lap around, though, she looks up to study them, curious, and after another moment offers a "Hey" in greeting to Olwyn.
Olwyn, whose gaze had mostly encompassed the ground in front of her and the water to one side, starts a bit at the sudden greeting. "Oh, hello," she responds automatically, turning to face the source of the word. "Running an errand, or is there someone else in the Weyr as crazy and/or foolhardy as me?" she asks wryly, her breath oozing out of her mouth in a smoky miasma reminiscent of a dragon needing to chew more firestone.
Tiriana eyes Olwyn warily, brows knitting as she pulls up to study her. "I'm just walking," she retorts after a moment. "Nothing crazy about it. Who are /you/?"
Olwyn looks taken aback momentarily by the response to her statement, then tries to shrug it off. "Sorry, I guess maybe you're used to it? I've not lived here in a long time and it seems really cold to me. Colder than I expected when I set off on my walk." She pauses, then adds belatedly as she tucks her gloved hands under her armpits, "I'm Olwyn."
"Tiriana," the girl answers after another moment. "It's Telgar; I don't know what you expected here in the middle of winter." Not that it's actually the middle of winter. "Where are you from, anyway?"
"Nice to meet you, Tiriana," Olwyn notes, though her tone is more one of politeness than genuine excitement at this encounter. "I didn't know what to expect. I haven't lived here since I was five or six. It's not like memories from such a young age are that great at preparing your expectations," she adds a bit defensively. "I'm most recently from Fort Weyr."
Tiriana eyes Olwyn, unimpressed. "Isn't Fort cold, too?" she points out, glossing over the rest.
Olwyn eyes Tiriana right back, her manner cooling to match that of the younger girl. "Not as cold as here," she says simply.
Tiriana smirks, rather triumphantly. "Uh-huh. Well, you planning on staying around here, then, or running off to Ista or Southern or wherever?" she asks next.
Olwyn's brow furrows in bafflement at the smirk, then shrugs again. "No, I'm planning on staying here. I've survived it before, I'll survive it again, I just won't necessarily be that comfortable for a while. A little bit of bad weather certainly isn't going to send me running when I want to be at a certain place," she says.
"So just what /are/ you doing here?" Tiriana continues pressing. "Get run out of Fort or something?" She glances over the older girl, then smirks again, amused this time. "Nah, you don't seem that type, really."
The pressing from the young girl is definitely beginning to yield results. "Yes, I got run out of Fort but Telgar was willing to welcome me with open arms. It was that or getting exiled to the islands," she retorts with more than a hint of sarcasm. "I'm /living/ here and doing all the things that come with that. I had fond memories and so I decided to come back. What, was the headwoman suddenly not satisfied with my answers and so you've been sent to ferret out my true nefarious purpose?"
"I don't know the headwoman," Tiriana admits with a shrug. "But my aunt is her assistant, and my uncle's the Weyrsecond, so you just better not try anything funny." Smugly, she offers Olwyn a little smile. "/I/ have connections."
"Please, am I supposed to be impressed?" Olwyn scoffs. "My father is a brownrider here, which might not be as high and mighty as Weyrsecond, but is a closer relationship. I prefer to make it on my own abilities, however, rather than on the strength of my 'connections.' I certainly don't see the need to try to threaten someone with them."
"My daddy's a bronzerider," Tiriana can top that one, too. "And my mother's a goldrider. And please," she snorts. "What people mean when they say they're going to make their own way is, they don't really /have/ any connections."
"That's funny," Olwyn retorts. "I've found in my life that those that rely overmuch on their connections to people and have to brag about them to everyone they meet are those who don't have the talent, ability, or determination to make anything of themselves, and so have to rely on the exploits of others to make themselves feel good."
The tips of Tiriana's ears pinken as she looks at Olwyn, glowering. Her lips purse, hands ball up, and finally, with a shrug, swings a fist at the other girl's jaw.
Olwyn smirks a bit at Tiriana's obvious discomfort, clearly enjoying having the upper hand after being nettled by the younger girl for most of the conversation. What she's not expecting is the fist swung in her direction. The punch connects, staggering Wyn backwards a few steps and leaving her staring at Tiriana dumbstruck for a moment. "What the shard did you do that for!" she finally yells, lifting a hand to gingerly pat at her jaw.
"How's that for a talent, huh?" retorts Tiriana, smugly sneering at Olwyn, though her hands remaining balled in preparation for retaliation.
"Oh, so you're trying to be a bully as well as a braggart? Yeah, that's really talented. I can see you're going to go far in life," Olwyn says dismissively and more than a bit nastily. She doesn't retaliate physically, however, instead turning in the direction of the living caverns, putting her back to Tiriana.
"I can finish kicking your ass if you really wanna," Tiriana yells after Olwyn, though she doesn't chase her down. Instead, glaring after her, the younger girl finally turns and resumes scuffing her way around the lake, scowling.