[Log] Interior Decorating
Who: C'mryn, Eila, Tiriana
When: Day 22, Month 6, Turn 17
Where: Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr
What: Tiriana and C'mryn need to furnish their new weyrs.
Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr
Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night.
The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze.
Contents:
C'mryn
Eila
Obvious exits:
Living Cavern Kitchen Residential Hallway Infirmary Bathing Pools Bowl Weyr Entrance
C'mryn
C'mryn's average height, weight, and distinctly bland features means he's usually overlooked among the crowd. He stands around five feet seven inches, with not much bulk on his gainly frame. His hair is an ashen brown, looking perpetually dusty. It's also perpetually in need of a trim. His eyes are a calm grey, pleasant and not very striking at all. If his accent didn't betray him, his pale skin would; C'mryn's is definitely from the northern parts of Pern.
He wears thick, wherhide riding leathers. On his shoulder is the knot of a High Reaches Weyr bronzerider.
C'mryn is 21 turns, 4 months, 27 days old.
Eila
At five feet, three inches, Eila has all the appropriate limbs and parts in all the appropriate places, with a bit to spare - she is well-proportioned, but stocky. A combination of elements gives her a shape that is too robust to be considered terribly delicate or feminine: she is slightly too broad around the torso (ah, but only a little!) and her legs are slightly too short for her body (just by an inch!) and her arms slightly too muscular (hey, a girl's gotta work!).
Although not strikingly attractive, Eila possesses a certain vitality that lights her wholesome, pleasant features. Her eyes, a clear slate blue, are large and bright, and her nose - slender and pert - turns upward at the end. Her lips are full and her cheeks dimple endearingly when she smiles, and her fair skin (a ruddy red from Rukbat's rays) is spackled with freckles. Her short cropped hair is a mousy brown: the swilling waters left in the sink after dish clean up, or a cool cup of klah with too much milk poured in.
She's wearing loose-fitting, lightly tanned pants, fraught with pockets in which she may be carrying any number of items: yarn, marks, baubles, a spare meat roll... Overtop a long-sleeved tunic, a few shades darker than her slacks, she's wearing a klah-brown vest with yet more hidden pouches. Her wherleather boots are heavy and high, and a slight lift to the heel affords the girl another inch or so. On her shoulder is a simple knot indicating she is a resident of High Reaches Weyr.
Eila is 16 turns, 7 months, 12 days.
"From Telgar... with Tiriana. And about a wingfull of other dragonriders." Maybe she didn't know? C'mryn arches an eyebrow at Eila, but remains grinning. "New, hm? Seems to be a lot of that going around. But stuck with children? Did you anger the Weyrwoman, to get landed with that job?" Darurn is just stared back at, while he wiggles his fingers at Kerys and her giggling.
Ah, oh. Right. "Of course! I did hear." Really. Nod, nod. "I certainly don't know every face in the Weyr, though. I just - kind of stopped off with our caravan and never got back on." Because this seems to be a perfectly logical line of reasoning, for a trader. "And now I'm - this." She motions, a bit helplessly, towards Darurn and Kerys. "It's not that bad," she laughs a clear and pleased laugh, "and I like children. Even the ones that steal sweetrolls when they're having their dinner in a candlemark." /Darurn./ The boy doesn't seem perturbed in the least by C'mryn's return-stare, and simply wrinkles his nose.
Speak of the devil indeed. Tiriana is cutting across the caverns with her own child in tow--well, not hers, but one of the Weyr's, at any rate. The boy of about ten appears to be playing guide for the goldrider who follows him, though she's still frowning. "I know we passed that already--don't think I'm stupid, brat. You're not any help at all. --Here, take him." Because Eila has kids with her, and as Tiriana passes her and her charges and C'mryn, she gives her erstwhile guide a little push toward the former trader.
"And they stuck you with the 'br- I mean, Children? How awful." For all this complaints, C'mryn sure seems to be enjoying his time, making faces at Darurn in return. He sticks out his tongue. And then Tiriana walks in. With a jerk, Cam pulls himself into a more respectable posture, though he's still making faces at Darurn on the side. "Tiriana," he greets with a roll of his eyes. "Not even a month in High Reaches and you've already kidnapped a child? At least you have learned enough to return him when you're finished." But he's still cheerful enough. "Eila, weyrwoman Tiriana," he introduces.
Take who? Another one? Oh. Eila just has a grin for this additional little one, and she runs a hand through his hair and pats his shoulder a bit distractedly as introductions are made. Her blue eyes go a bit round at the kidnapping-mention, but as she bobs her head and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, she says regardless, "Well met, weyrwoman Tiriana." While Kerys, very slowly working almost all of her hand into her mouth, has wide-eyed amazement for the goldrider, Darurn simply turns his gremlin-pulled face on Tiriana, too, after C'mryn recieves the brunt of it. Weyrwoman? Pfft. Those come a dime a dozen, 'round these parts, lady.
"He was /supposed/," says Tiriana, with a firm look at the undaunted boy, "to show me where stuff was in the stores, so I could try to do something with that--that /weyr/ they expect me to live in." She makes it sound like a dirty word, which just makes the boy Sibui grin more, though he tries to duck Eila's touch and tousle his hair back himself. Tiriana looks pleased at neither his behavior nor Darurn's. "Be careful or it'll freeze like that," she tells him, like an old auntie.
"Ah, so you've got an uninhabitable weyr as well?" asks C'mryn. "Does yours have cute little mice that like to nibble on toes living under a pile of wood as well?" All this is said with a very straight face - well, straight for Cam - and knowing nod. "But, good luck in the stores. I haven't found much useful. Think I'll just make it myself." Shrug. As for Darurn... well, C'mryn's making quite the face back at him when Tiriana's words come, so he turns it on her for the briefest of moments. Hm. "Eila, you said you were a trader? Interesting life, that must have been."
Even Eila turns a bit of a disapproving glare down toward Sibui. "She's /new/. The least you could do is be polite for a /while/." Because, clearly, after that period of grace it's perfectly acceptable to go back to being rude. "'Twon't," Darurn snorts in response to the goldrider, "'N y'not the first t'tell me it well." The young boy folds one leg up under himself, but continues the swing the other with vigour, as though perhaps aiming a foot at C'mryn's leg. But all in good fun, right? Eila looks about to say something to the lad when C'mryn's question distracts her, and she turns, "Hm? Yeah. I suppose it was; mostly it was just... travelling, though." Her next words are addressed to Tiriana, if a bit faintly: "I could show you the stores, if you're really desperate? It's not all moth-chewed fabric and - broken toys. There's useful stuff down there." That bit includes the bronzerider, too. Really!
Superiorly, Tiriana tries very hard to ignore the face-making. Tries, and fails. "Well, you keep making it at me, and I'll knock you so hard you won't be able to make any other ones," she snaps back at him, crossing her arms. As for inspecting the stores, "Telgar had better stuff, except I hadn't really decorated there yet, etiher. So, well. Fine." She gives a sigh meant to sound more put-upon than it really does.
"Hm," is said to the foot-swinging Darurn. "You know, if you kick me, it's like kicking my dragon. And my dragon does not like to be kicked. He'd make me kick you back. It'd hurt." But, really, it's Tiriana and her threat that has his attention. In all seriousness he tells her, "Now Tiriana, is that the way a goldrider should behave? Hitting children? That's low, even for you." He pulls at his jacket, fussing with a button. "If she doesn't take the offer, I will. If you can find me a hidden shelf with useable things, I would be most grateful."
Little Kerys gasps quietly at Tiriana's threat, wide-eyed and silent as she presses herself close to Eila's leg. "I'd really rather you didn't," Eila says, mildly, laying a hand on the girl's soft hair. And despite one final sneer, Darurn pulls the other leg up, too, tucking them both under his bottom and then setting his mouth in a line. Eila nods, just a little nod, in the young boy's direction, and crosses her arms across her chest, almost defensively. "There's nothing wrong with the Reaches' storage. Maybe you're just looking in the wrong rooms." To C'mryn, a nod. "Of course. Any time. Have you spoken to someone about the rats, yet, by the by?"
"Oh, please," scoffs Tiriana, who doesn't look very apologetic however she frightens Kerys. "Kids need a little discipline," says one who should know. "Anyway, I'm not going to just hit 'im for nothing, so. Anyway. It needs to be reorganized. Telgar's was loads easier to find everything in--it all made sense. And now they expect me to help inventory that mess?" With a disgusted noise, she just shakes her head. "Fine, though. If you can prove you have something decent around here..."
"Little pests won't be a problem," C'mryn says, as if to reassure Eila. "I told Tausreth he could make a meal of them, and he's having fun attempting to catch them unaware. Sneaky little things, from the commentary in my head," and he taps the side of his head. He simply 'hm's at Tiriana, but adds no further commentary. "If you would like me to come along, I shall," he tells Eila in a tone that might imply hes offering protection from cranky goldriders. "Otherwise, I may just see to getting a meal for myself."
"/Eat/ them?" The thought disgusts Tiriana, as seen in her snurled lip. "Does he have no more--dignity? Self-respect, than to eat vermin?" She affects a shudder at the thought, in fact. "Iovniath is better than that, of course, but then, she /is/ a gold. We have dust everywhere, but she just wants it swept up, like normal people do."
C'mryn is neither surprised by Tiriana's reaction nor insulted. "And what are herdbeasts, if not vermin that happen to be large enough to eat? Doesn't stop her from eating them, does it? Eyes, innards and all?" He shrugs. "Tausreth says that dignity is a virtue reserved for ladies."
"I'd think that was Milani's area of expertise." Eila says, blandly, in regards to the purported mess. "So maybe you should take that up with her." Dealing with irritable goldriders; not Eila's particular specialty. But C'mryn's offer of protection is taken up: "Sure. I've nothing better to do. Well -" muddy knees and dirty faces notwithstanding "- I can probably spare a moment or two. Anything in particular you're looking for, weyrwoman?" C'mryn's comment gets a vaguely surprised sort of look, though a hesitant smile, too. Which fades, at that 'eyes, innards and all' bit.
"Maybe I will," says Tiriana of Milani, with a sniff; her disdainful roll of eyes is reserved for C'mryn, however. "They're not vermin; they do useful things, too. And anyway, it's just--different." So there. She's already turning to look back down at the tunnels, the ones she's half-sure lead towar the stores again. "Just... stuff. A little furniture, I guess, and just... stuff. I don't know." Helplessly, she shrugs; decorating a weyr isn't exactly /her/ speciality.
C'mryn decides, maybe wisely, not to go into the usefulness of mice. He just shrugs, grins at Eila, and motions down the tunnel. Erm. More like a vague wave in the direction of all the tunnels. "At least I came with a list in mind," nevermind that Eila found him, not the other way around. "Some linens for the bed, a couple extra furs, and a broom." Grin. "Are they coming with?" he asks of the children.
Kerys tugs at Eila's sleeve, catching the girl's attention so she kneels to listen to a whispered question. "No, no," the nanny reassures, petting at the girl's shoulder, "Not /you/. You do useful things." Straightening, she motions for Darurn to hop down off the chair, which he does, and then shooes the two of them towards the bathing caverns. As they disappear around the corner, she shakes her head at C'mryn's question. "Nah, they'll just get in the way." Sibui earns a thoughtful grin, but he can do what he likes - he's not her charge, today, at least. "There's another nanny already down there, she won't mind two more." The girl brushes her hands together. "Okay. Linens, furs. Broom?" She nods, and sets off towards the stores, steps slow at first.
Already growing bored with the grown-up conversation, Sibui is distracted at best, and quick to take the opportunity to escape into the lower caverns with the other brats, away from the hostage-taking Tiriana. For her part, she frowns at C'mryn and then shakes her head at his list-making. "I've never had to live by myself before," she answers stiffly. "So I've never furnished a whole one by myself." Hmph.
"Poor thing," is offered to Tiriana, and C'mryn manages to look sympathetic for her pampered lifestyle. "Well, nothing like being thrust out on one's own to help toughen you up." And then Eila is leading the way, and C'mryn is happy to follow, looking cheerful. "Milani, you mentioned? Headwoman?" Bad C'mryn, not even knowing who's who in his new Weyr!
"Poor thing," Eila repeats, and manages, (mostly) to suppress the hint of laughter in her voice. Nevermind she lived in a /caravan/ for all of her life, until picking up a job here. "It's easy," the nanny glances over her shoulder towards Tiriana, "For the most part. I just thought of things I used day-to-day, and then grabbed those. Anything else I wrote down as I went along, and then made one big trip down to stores, and -" she spreads her hands in front of her, shrugs. "There you have it. Milani - assistant, actually. Ah, about my age. Taller." Down this tunnel, turn here - almost there!
The mocking inherent in their answers is lost on Tiriana, who looks instead mollified by the response she gets as they turn to head to the stores. "Milani," she repeats the name with just a bit of familiarity and more disgusted curling of her lip. Moving on, "Anyway, I have the marks to commission some of the big stuff from the Woodcraft, with my daddy and the discount and everything."
"Don't sneer, Tiriana. You'll probably be working with her quite-" but however often she might work with her is not said, for C'mryn tilts his head to the side and snorts. "Naturally. Excuse me ladies, it seems one of Tausreth's "vermin" has bit him on the nose and is refusing to let go. If you would excuse me..." and C'mryn heads off to rescue his bronze from the evil mouse.
Oh, no, don't go! Eila twists her head about to watch C'mryn's retreat with a half-open mouth, as though she were thinking about protesting. But, so you have it, what do you do when life hands you a cranky goldrider in the stores? "Ah," perhaps Eila isn't so certain, either, as she nudges one door open with her foot and pushes her way in, holding it behind her with one hand as she pokes and prods into a nearby shelf with the other. "Ah, your daddy?"
C'mryn goes home.
C'mryn has left.
C'mryn's excuse for leaving, of course, just makes Tiriana smirk and snicker the more. "Stupid animal," she says, of perhaps the rat or perhaps Tausreth. But then Eila gives her an opening, the poor girl, and Tiriana latches onto it. "He's the Weyrleader of Ierne," she boasts at once. "So I can get him to buy me stuff. You know, I almost went there instead, but then the Reaches practically /begged/, so..." Liar. A very poor one, too.
"Is he? Wow." Perhaps Eila's just plain nice, or perhaps dancing a little gingerly around the goldrider, but she has turns a wide-eyed marvel (not unlike Kerys' earlier upon being faced with a real, live, breathing! weyrwoman) back on Tiriana. "They /begged/ you? Huh. The things we don't hear, down in the lower caverns." It's nothing snarky, just a sort of bemused ignorance. "Okay, come in," and she waves for the goldrider to enter the room - she can't hold the door open forever! - "And we'll see what we can find you, yeah?"
"Begged," repeats Tiriana, with a nod for confirmation that rings a little hollow even to her. "And yeah, my daddy is. Has been for years, all my life--can't nobody beat him." Quite happy to brag on that subject, and veer away from that of her unceremonious arrival at the Reaches, she leads the way into the storerooms.
"No wonder you Impressed gold," Eila murmurs, but of course what does she know of the whims of dragons? "All your life - all that time. Wow. Good for him." Her she spends a moment poking through nearby boxes - parcels wrapped, never opened; excess tithings to the Weyr stuck aside for later use. "Usually this is where I find all my goodies - there'll be the good spare furs up there," she indicates one of the higher shelves, "And - oh, Kerys." The young girl turns at the sound of the door creaking open, and the little girl stands in the doorway, thumb obstinately still stuck in her mouth. "What's the matter? C'mon, you shouldn't be down here, not in your slippers." The nanny casts an apologetic smile back to Tiriana, even as she swoops the girl up into her arms. "I'm sorry, weyrwoman. I'll let someone know you're down here - I hope you've better luck finding what you need!" And with that, Eila disappears into the corridor.
When: Day 22, Month 6, Turn 17
Where: Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr
What: Tiriana and C'mryn need to furnish their new weyrs.
Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr
Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night.
The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze.
Contents:
C'mryn
Eila
Obvious exits:
Living Cavern Kitchen Residential Hallway Infirmary Bathing Pools Bowl Weyr Entrance
C'mryn
C'mryn's average height, weight, and distinctly bland features means he's usually overlooked among the crowd. He stands around five feet seven inches, with not much bulk on his gainly frame. His hair is an ashen brown, looking perpetually dusty. It's also perpetually in need of a trim. His eyes are a calm grey, pleasant and not very striking at all. If his accent didn't betray him, his pale skin would; C'mryn's is definitely from the northern parts of Pern.
He wears thick, wherhide riding leathers. On his shoulder is the knot of a High Reaches Weyr bronzerider.
C'mryn is 21 turns, 4 months, 27 days old.
Eila
At five feet, three inches, Eila has all the appropriate limbs and parts in all the appropriate places, with a bit to spare - she is well-proportioned, but stocky. A combination of elements gives her a shape that is too robust to be considered terribly delicate or feminine: she is slightly too broad around the torso (ah, but only a little!) and her legs are slightly too short for her body (just by an inch!) and her arms slightly too muscular (hey, a girl's gotta work!).
Although not strikingly attractive, Eila possesses a certain vitality that lights her wholesome, pleasant features. Her eyes, a clear slate blue, are large and bright, and her nose - slender and pert - turns upward at the end. Her lips are full and her cheeks dimple endearingly when she smiles, and her fair skin (a ruddy red from Rukbat's rays) is spackled with freckles. Her short cropped hair is a mousy brown: the swilling waters left in the sink after dish clean up, or a cool cup of klah with too much milk poured in.
She's wearing loose-fitting, lightly tanned pants, fraught with pockets in which she may be carrying any number of items: yarn, marks, baubles, a spare meat roll... Overtop a long-sleeved tunic, a few shades darker than her slacks, she's wearing a klah-brown vest with yet more hidden pouches. Her wherleather boots are heavy and high, and a slight lift to the heel affords the girl another inch or so. On her shoulder is a simple knot indicating she is a resident of High Reaches Weyr.
Eila is 16 turns, 7 months, 12 days.
"From Telgar... with Tiriana. And about a wingfull of other dragonriders." Maybe she didn't know? C'mryn arches an eyebrow at Eila, but remains grinning. "New, hm? Seems to be a lot of that going around. But stuck with children? Did you anger the Weyrwoman, to get landed with that job?" Darurn is just stared back at, while he wiggles his fingers at Kerys and her giggling.
Ah, oh. Right. "Of course! I did hear." Really. Nod, nod. "I certainly don't know every face in the Weyr, though. I just - kind of stopped off with our caravan and never got back on." Because this seems to be a perfectly logical line of reasoning, for a trader. "And now I'm - this." She motions, a bit helplessly, towards Darurn and Kerys. "It's not that bad," she laughs a clear and pleased laugh, "and I like children. Even the ones that steal sweetrolls when they're having their dinner in a candlemark." /Darurn./ The boy doesn't seem perturbed in the least by C'mryn's return-stare, and simply wrinkles his nose.
Speak of the devil indeed. Tiriana is cutting across the caverns with her own child in tow--well, not hers, but one of the Weyr's, at any rate. The boy of about ten appears to be playing guide for the goldrider who follows him, though she's still frowning. "I know we passed that already--don't think I'm stupid, brat. You're not any help at all. --Here, take him." Because Eila has kids with her, and as Tiriana passes her and her charges and C'mryn, she gives her erstwhile guide a little push toward the former trader.
"And they stuck you with the 'br- I mean, Children? How awful." For all this complaints, C'mryn sure seems to be enjoying his time, making faces at Darurn in return. He sticks out his tongue. And then Tiriana walks in. With a jerk, Cam pulls himself into a more respectable posture, though he's still making faces at Darurn on the side. "Tiriana," he greets with a roll of his eyes. "Not even a month in High Reaches and you've already kidnapped a child? At least you have learned enough to return him when you're finished." But he's still cheerful enough. "Eila, weyrwoman Tiriana," he introduces.
Take who? Another one? Oh. Eila just has a grin for this additional little one, and she runs a hand through his hair and pats his shoulder a bit distractedly as introductions are made. Her blue eyes go a bit round at the kidnapping-mention, but as she bobs her head and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, she says regardless, "Well met, weyrwoman Tiriana." While Kerys, very slowly working almost all of her hand into her mouth, has wide-eyed amazement for the goldrider, Darurn simply turns his gremlin-pulled face on Tiriana, too, after C'mryn recieves the brunt of it. Weyrwoman? Pfft. Those come a dime a dozen, 'round these parts, lady.
"He was /supposed/," says Tiriana, with a firm look at the undaunted boy, "to show me where stuff was in the stores, so I could try to do something with that--that /weyr/ they expect me to live in." She makes it sound like a dirty word, which just makes the boy Sibui grin more, though he tries to duck Eila's touch and tousle his hair back himself. Tiriana looks pleased at neither his behavior nor Darurn's. "Be careful or it'll freeze like that," she tells him, like an old auntie.
"Ah, so you've got an uninhabitable weyr as well?" asks C'mryn. "Does yours have cute little mice that like to nibble on toes living under a pile of wood as well?" All this is said with a very straight face - well, straight for Cam - and knowing nod. "But, good luck in the stores. I haven't found much useful. Think I'll just make it myself." Shrug. As for Darurn... well, C'mryn's making quite the face back at him when Tiriana's words come, so he turns it on her for the briefest of moments. Hm. "Eila, you said you were a trader? Interesting life, that must have been."
Even Eila turns a bit of a disapproving glare down toward Sibui. "She's /new/. The least you could do is be polite for a /while/." Because, clearly, after that period of grace it's perfectly acceptable to go back to being rude. "'Twon't," Darurn snorts in response to the goldrider, "'N y'not the first t'tell me it well." The young boy folds one leg up under himself, but continues the swing the other with vigour, as though perhaps aiming a foot at C'mryn's leg. But all in good fun, right? Eila looks about to say something to the lad when C'mryn's question distracts her, and she turns, "Hm? Yeah. I suppose it was; mostly it was just... travelling, though." Her next words are addressed to Tiriana, if a bit faintly: "I could show you the stores, if you're really desperate? It's not all moth-chewed fabric and - broken toys. There's useful stuff down there." That bit includes the bronzerider, too. Really!
Superiorly, Tiriana tries very hard to ignore the face-making. Tries, and fails. "Well, you keep making it at me, and I'll knock you so hard you won't be able to make any other ones," she snaps back at him, crossing her arms. As for inspecting the stores, "Telgar had better stuff, except I hadn't really decorated there yet, etiher. So, well. Fine." She gives a sigh meant to sound more put-upon than it really does.
"Hm," is said to the foot-swinging Darurn. "You know, if you kick me, it's like kicking my dragon. And my dragon does not like to be kicked. He'd make me kick you back. It'd hurt." But, really, it's Tiriana and her threat that has his attention. In all seriousness he tells her, "Now Tiriana, is that the way a goldrider should behave? Hitting children? That's low, even for you." He pulls at his jacket, fussing with a button. "If she doesn't take the offer, I will. If you can find me a hidden shelf with useable things, I would be most grateful."
Little Kerys gasps quietly at Tiriana's threat, wide-eyed and silent as she presses herself close to Eila's leg. "I'd really rather you didn't," Eila says, mildly, laying a hand on the girl's soft hair. And despite one final sneer, Darurn pulls the other leg up, too, tucking them both under his bottom and then setting his mouth in a line. Eila nods, just a little nod, in the young boy's direction, and crosses her arms across her chest, almost defensively. "There's nothing wrong with the Reaches' storage. Maybe you're just looking in the wrong rooms." To C'mryn, a nod. "Of course. Any time. Have you spoken to someone about the rats, yet, by the by?"
"Oh, please," scoffs Tiriana, who doesn't look very apologetic however she frightens Kerys. "Kids need a little discipline," says one who should know. "Anyway, I'm not going to just hit 'im for nothing, so. Anyway. It needs to be reorganized. Telgar's was loads easier to find everything in--it all made sense. And now they expect me to help inventory that mess?" With a disgusted noise, she just shakes her head. "Fine, though. If you can prove you have something decent around here..."
"Little pests won't be a problem," C'mryn says, as if to reassure Eila. "I told Tausreth he could make a meal of them, and he's having fun attempting to catch them unaware. Sneaky little things, from the commentary in my head," and he taps the side of his head. He simply 'hm's at Tiriana, but adds no further commentary. "If you would like me to come along, I shall," he tells Eila in a tone that might imply hes offering protection from cranky goldriders. "Otherwise, I may just see to getting a meal for myself."
"/Eat/ them?" The thought disgusts Tiriana, as seen in her snurled lip. "Does he have no more--dignity? Self-respect, than to eat vermin?" She affects a shudder at the thought, in fact. "Iovniath is better than that, of course, but then, she /is/ a gold. We have dust everywhere, but she just wants it swept up, like normal people do."
C'mryn is neither surprised by Tiriana's reaction nor insulted. "And what are herdbeasts, if not vermin that happen to be large enough to eat? Doesn't stop her from eating them, does it? Eyes, innards and all?" He shrugs. "Tausreth says that dignity is a virtue reserved for ladies."
"I'd think that was Milani's area of expertise." Eila says, blandly, in regards to the purported mess. "So maybe you should take that up with her." Dealing with irritable goldriders; not Eila's particular specialty. But C'mryn's offer of protection is taken up: "Sure. I've nothing better to do. Well -" muddy knees and dirty faces notwithstanding "- I can probably spare a moment or two. Anything in particular you're looking for, weyrwoman?" C'mryn's comment gets a vaguely surprised sort of look, though a hesitant smile, too. Which fades, at that 'eyes, innards and all' bit.
"Maybe I will," says Tiriana of Milani, with a sniff; her disdainful roll of eyes is reserved for C'mryn, however. "They're not vermin; they do useful things, too. And anyway, it's just--different." So there. She's already turning to look back down at the tunnels, the ones she's half-sure lead towar the stores again. "Just... stuff. A little furniture, I guess, and just... stuff. I don't know." Helplessly, she shrugs; decorating a weyr isn't exactly /her/ speciality.
C'mryn decides, maybe wisely, not to go into the usefulness of mice. He just shrugs, grins at Eila, and motions down the tunnel. Erm. More like a vague wave in the direction of all the tunnels. "At least I came with a list in mind," nevermind that Eila found him, not the other way around. "Some linens for the bed, a couple extra furs, and a broom." Grin. "Are they coming with?" he asks of the children.
Kerys tugs at Eila's sleeve, catching the girl's attention so she kneels to listen to a whispered question. "No, no," the nanny reassures, petting at the girl's shoulder, "Not /you/. You do useful things." Straightening, she motions for Darurn to hop down off the chair, which he does, and then shooes the two of them towards the bathing caverns. As they disappear around the corner, she shakes her head at C'mryn's question. "Nah, they'll just get in the way." Sibui earns a thoughtful grin, but he can do what he likes - he's not her charge, today, at least. "There's another nanny already down there, she won't mind two more." The girl brushes her hands together. "Okay. Linens, furs. Broom?" She nods, and sets off towards the stores, steps slow at first.
Already growing bored with the grown-up conversation, Sibui is distracted at best, and quick to take the opportunity to escape into the lower caverns with the other brats, away from the hostage-taking Tiriana. For her part, she frowns at C'mryn and then shakes her head at his list-making. "I've never had to live by myself before," she answers stiffly. "So I've never furnished a whole one by myself." Hmph.
"Poor thing," is offered to Tiriana, and C'mryn manages to look sympathetic for her pampered lifestyle. "Well, nothing like being thrust out on one's own to help toughen you up." And then Eila is leading the way, and C'mryn is happy to follow, looking cheerful. "Milani, you mentioned? Headwoman?" Bad C'mryn, not even knowing who's who in his new Weyr!
"Poor thing," Eila repeats, and manages, (mostly) to suppress the hint of laughter in her voice. Nevermind she lived in a /caravan/ for all of her life, until picking up a job here. "It's easy," the nanny glances over her shoulder towards Tiriana, "For the most part. I just thought of things I used day-to-day, and then grabbed those. Anything else I wrote down as I went along, and then made one big trip down to stores, and -" she spreads her hands in front of her, shrugs. "There you have it. Milani - assistant, actually. Ah, about my age. Taller." Down this tunnel, turn here - almost there!
The mocking inherent in their answers is lost on Tiriana, who looks instead mollified by the response she gets as they turn to head to the stores. "Milani," she repeats the name with just a bit of familiarity and more disgusted curling of her lip. Moving on, "Anyway, I have the marks to commission some of the big stuff from the Woodcraft, with my daddy and the discount and everything."
"Don't sneer, Tiriana. You'll probably be working with her quite-" but however often she might work with her is not said, for C'mryn tilts his head to the side and snorts. "Naturally. Excuse me ladies, it seems one of Tausreth's "vermin" has bit him on the nose and is refusing to let go. If you would excuse me..." and C'mryn heads off to rescue his bronze from the evil mouse.
Oh, no, don't go! Eila twists her head about to watch C'mryn's retreat with a half-open mouth, as though she were thinking about protesting. But, so you have it, what do you do when life hands you a cranky goldrider in the stores? "Ah," perhaps Eila isn't so certain, either, as she nudges one door open with her foot and pushes her way in, holding it behind her with one hand as she pokes and prods into a nearby shelf with the other. "Ah, your daddy?"
C'mryn goes home.
C'mryn has left.
C'mryn's excuse for leaving, of course, just makes Tiriana smirk and snicker the more. "Stupid animal," she says, of perhaps the rat or perhaps Tausreth. But then Eila gives her an opening, the poor girl, and Tiriana latches onto it. "He's the Weyrleader of Ierne," she boasts at once. "So I can get him to buy me stuff. You know, I almost went there instead, but then the Reaches practically /begged/, so..." Liar. A very poor one, too.
"Is he? Wow." Perhaps Eila's just plain nice, or perhaps dancing a little gingerly around the goldrider, but she has turns a wide-eyed marvel (not unlike Kerys' earlier upon being faced with a real, live, breathing! weyrwoman) back on Tiriana. "They /begged/ you? Huh. The things we don't hear, down in the lower caverns." It's nothing snarky, just a sort of bemused ignorance. "Okay, come in," and she waves for the goldrider to enter the room - she can't hold the door open forever! - "And we'll see what we can find you, yeah?"
"Begged," repeats Tiriana, with a nod for confirmation that rings a little hollow even to her. "And yeah, my daddy is. Has been for years, all my life--can't nobody beat him." Quite happy to brag on that subject, and veer away from that of her unceremonious arrival at the Reaches, she leads the way into the storerooms.
"No wonder you Impressed gold," Eila murmurs, but of course what does she know of the whims of dragons? "All your life - all that time. Wow. Good for him." Her she spends a moment poking through nearby boxes - parcels wrapped, never opened; excess tithings to the Weyr stuck aside for later use. "Usually this is where I find all my goodies - there'll be the good spare furs up there," she indicates one of the higher shelves, "And - oh, Kerys." The young girl turns at the sound of the door creaking open, and the little girl stands in the doorway, thumb obstinately still stuck in her mouth. "What's the matter? C'mon, you shouldn't be down here, not in your slippers." The nanny casts an apologetic smile back to Tiriana, even as she swoops the girl up into her arms. "I'm sorry, weyrwoman. I'll let someone know you're down here - I hope you've better luck finding what you need!" And with that, Eila disappears into the corridor.