[Log] Picking One Out for Next Time
Who: Breide, Ironeph
When: Day 4, Month 13, Turn 441.
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
What: Breide and Ironeph discuss the Weyr's rooming situation.
Inner Caverns
A warren of caverns and tunnels run through the interior of Fort Weyr. Many of them are abandoned and disused, but some are still in good repair. Those that are no longer serviceable are blocked off by wooden rails. The others are usually lit - albeit sparsely at times as the glows are not refreshed as often as they should be. Regardless of the time of day or season, these caverns are perpetually gloomy and a bit chilly.
The main tunnel here leads up to the living cavern. Branches off of this go in various directions: A narrow tunnel winds up in the nighthearth; a long, open corridor passes several rooms and offices before terminating at the dormitory; and so on.
Players:
Breide.........5'7", wheat-blonde, brown eyes, curvy, early twenties
Ironeph........6', athletic; olive skin, dark brown eyes & hair; early 20s.
Exits:
Infirmary.....................[S] Living Cavern.................[N]
Nighthearth...................[NE] Residential Hallway...........[E]
Whistling sunnily, Breide makes a way out of the dormitories, a towel slung casually around her neck. The melody's simple, a harper's teaching song, rather than anything meant for entertainment. Draped along her arm is a large wicker basket filled with various bathing equipment, and while it's clear her final destination is the baths, her path deviates a bit: the blonde head poking into various rooms, empty or not, as long as they're unlocked, they're apparently fair game.
Surreptitiously, Ironeph's dusty head peeks over a set of railings blocking off a hallway, then disappears again. A few seconds later, he's ducking through an opening into the main hallway, hands in pockets as he edges away, glancing over his shoulder for anyone watching. Suspicious indeed.
As involved as Breide is in her not so surreptitious snooping, she completely misses Ironeph's sneaky ducking around. It's the slam at the end of the hallway that causes the blonde to jump and continue a nonchalant walk in the wrong direction, which is completely meant. "So many empty rooms, I don't see why we bother with the dorms," she mutters, eyeing one particular door covetously.
Ironeph rakes a hand through his hair and picks a few specks of dust off his shirt before continuing down the hall, toward Breide. "You oughta just pack up and move into one," he remarks idly as he starts past her, steps slowing.
Not expecting anyone to hail her, particularly as she's been doing something not quite on the up and up, Breide startles visibly, shoulders twitching and her expression turning into a flinching squint. When she recognizes the dark-haired man the look of surprise shifts into a dark scowl, and she comments acerbically, "You shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that."
"Poor thing," remarks Ironeph lightly, as he turns and takes a couple of backward steps before coming to rest lightly against a wall, offering her an easy smile. "I'm sorry. So. You picking out one for next time?" he repeats.
"I don't know what you're talking about," scoffs the trader girl, tossing her blonde curls back frostily. "And well," Breide leans towards the door to an empty room, knocking on the wood hesitantly first, "Well, I don't know who gets rooms and who doesn't, and why we even bother with community living when it feels like there's not even enough people to populate the caverns we have free."
Ironeph smirks at that, his shoulders lifting in a vague shrug. "Sure," he agrees, no protests here. Then: "The important people, mostly. Married ones. People like us, though... Apparently we don't need any privacy."
Breide's brows arch in unison, and giving Ironeph a fleetingly flat look, she returns to staring at the door. "And one wonders where people get the idea Weyrs are the supporters of debauchery and certain, ah, freedoms." Despite the distance of her expressions, the blonde slides into an easy fit where Ironeph rests against the wall. "If female riders of fighting dragons'll get their own weyr, and just you -watch- they will, why can't honest workers," such as the exemplary example of herself, "Get their own personal space?"
"Eh, the holds aren't be that great, either," notes Ironeph sagely. "They just like to shove stuff under the rug." He shrugs again, tilting his head slightly. "I don't know. If we were short of rooms... But. Maybe you ought to ask about it. Or just take one," he suggests again. "Like anybody'd notice, unless you told them."
For a long moment, Breide seems to be seriously considering Ironeph's suggestion, but ends up shaking her head vigorously. "I'd rather not end on Marcella's considerable 'long' list." The blonde seems to muse a bit longer, the idea reluctant to depart the forefront of her thoughts and then wrinkles her nose. "No, and don't tempt me further! Anyway, y'hear?" She circles around Ironeph, beginning to walk back the long hallway towards the baths. This was a very long route deviation.
Ironeph trails alongside Breide, sauntering toward the baths himself. "I guess not," he agrees easily enough. "Besides, I guess you do okay without one. Anyway, what?"
"I do, don't I?" Finally admitting to Ironeph's insinuations, even tacitly, Breide smiles smugly, bright eyes twinkling as she looks up at the handyman with feigned demureness. "Who would've thought a tiny storage chamber could allow for-," she trails off, unwilling to vocalize -everything-. "Ista's going to be run by a Fort queen. How, fortunate," she allows, "For Raine."
"Yeah, I heard," agrees Ironeph lightly. "She looked pretty excited a while ago, when I cut through the living cavern. What's so great about it, though? I mean, it's /Ista/." A whole world away.
Breide deflates as Ironeph pops her bubble of being the latest on gossip. But her sulking lasts less than a second before good humor is restored. "Well, Fort could use friends now. Most areas aren't willing to support the Weyr for fear of ostracism themselves." Big words for a simple trader girl, and as she educates the carpenter, long strides continue to take them closer to the baths. "And I don't think Uyera would overlook her place of birth, or her son's home and the plight therein. Hopefully," her gaze cuts across to eye the living caverns and the areas beyond, "There'll be a larger influx of marks and goods."
"Oh, right. Of course," remarks Ironeph at that, bobbing his head in agreement. "It'll help a lot, I think. Uyera'll help us out. Not that we really /need/ anyone else's help, but still. Allies are a good thing." He shrugs idly, after pretty much quoting Breide's words.
"Oh, you're so cute," Breide responds gaily, leaning up to plant a quick kiss to Ironeph's cheek. "And it's so cute when you think you can do something about all our troubles." Left diplomatically unsaid is the fact he doesn't believe Fort -does- need assistance. "If you plan on joining me in the baths, you'll need your own towel." Her steps halt, back to the bathing cavern's entrance, and leans forward on her toes expectantly.
An unhappy flush tinges Ironeph's cheeks, though his dark skin hides most of it. "I can't just borrow yours?" he wonders, rather than answer her first words.
Breide pulls the towel from around her neck, looping it around Iro's neck and attempts to pull down. "Only if you promise to make me laugh always. Always," she repeats, punctuating her emphasized request with a soft grin.
There's a flicker of resistance in Ironeph's frame, shoulders tensing against the pull. But after a moment--a hesitation just long enough to be noticeable--he gives in to the tugging. "Yeah, sure," he answers with a crooked grin of his own.