Dara makes a friend
Who: Essdara, Sinopa
Where: Living Caverns - High Reaches Weyr
When: Late evening on day 21, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Comment: I don't like my poses in this one. I'm not that good at being bitchy with Dara, and it shows.
Sinopa
Tight curls of black are cropped to rest just above the young woman's shoulders. The voluminous mass of curls helps to soften the angular lines of her jaw bone. Large dark brown, nearly black, eyes dominate her face. Set between these expressive dark eyes is a slightly crooked nose with that peculiar look of having been broken many Turns ago. A smattering of freckles decorates her nose and cheekbones, disrupting an otherwise fair complexion. She is of average height, but not so average build. Rather than possessing a womanly, curvy body, her frame consists of diminuitive curves and a small chest.
She wears a dress made of a shimmering pink fabric. The sleeves are quite simple and short, revealing plenty of slightly freckled shoulders. A deep v-neck reveals her (very) modest cleavage. The pastel dress clings to her waist and is draped from her hips. Although there is no obvious pleating at her hips or waist, gentle folds of fabric swish just above ankles above a pair of gold colored shoes. A generously large saffron shawl, with pale red and gold embellishments and tassels, can be found either draped across her shoulders, or draped about her waist and arms. A dark brown round stone is worn on a thick black leather cord around her neck, and she wears two dark wooden bracelets on one wrist.
Threads of dark blue and black, wrapped with shining gold, form the intricate and betassled knot of a junior weyrwoman at High Reaches Weyr.
She appears to be about 19 turns, 8 months, and 23 days old.
---
It is late evening on day 21, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
---
Late evening finds the youngest of the native goldriders gently shuffling into the living caverns, shawl wrapped about her shoulders and nary a drop of that awful rain-snow mixture from the outside about her. Someone's very obviously done a well job to not venture a single hair outside. Pausing rather abruptly upon entering the living caverns, Sinopa casts a dark-eyed glance about the large room, scanning to see who is occupying or passing through at this late hour.
At a small tabe by the kitchens sits a lone girl. A warm mug of tea in front of her, and a small plate with a pastry being nibbled at, she seems to be doing her best to ignore the caverns as a whole. A slight frown crosses Essdara's lips periodically, as she sees somone or other that she's annoyed with, but by the looks she gets, people are either used to it, or just plain amused.
Still standing where she has stopped, Sinopa tilts her body a few degrees to the left, increasing the angle of her view. On the periphery the figure of a lone kitchenworker can be seen, and for a moment Sinopa's gaze washes over her as well. Briefly there is a slight crinkling of her nose before she looks onwards to see who else is about.
Essdara looks around the cavern again, and gives a slighs sigh, frustrated. She begins to systematically shred the pastry she was, until a moment ago, intending to eat. Another look around, and her gaze settles on one figure, Sinopa, and curiously looking her over, and failing utterly to be subtle about it.
Sudden movement at another tunnel that empties into the enormous caverns causes Sinopa's attention to snap in that direction. For a moment she watches the entrance of two damp riders before she lifts a hand up to push a curl behind an ear. Then... sometimes you get the feeling you're being watched... and then sometimes you are right. Tilting her head slowly she first eyes Essdara from the corner of her eye before she turns to look at the kitchenworker, slightly quirking a brow in an inquisitive gesture.
Essdara looks down quickly. Noone here is staring, nope. She's just... Well, not eating a pastry. The tea! She quickly scoops up the mug and takes a drink, trying hard to look nonchalant. And peeking back at Sinopa to see if it's at all working.
A tiny hint of mirth is visible in a corner of Sinopa's lips that shows slight twitchings indicating it would very much like to tweak upwards. Without staring outright, Sinopa's gaze takes in the girl as well as her surroundings and background.
A smile? That's not good. She sighs and looks back at the young goldrider again, and after a moment, looks a bit more defiant. Still, she isn't about to yell across the caverns - way too much attention, that. Instead she just offers a slight wave; it could be greeting, it could be invitation to sit. Who can tell?
For a moment the smile manages to break out of its constraint and there's a muted, half-smirk visible on the weyrwoman's expression. It must have been the defiant expression that broke Sinopa's expression control for a moment. The wave prompts Sinopa to fairly saunter on over towards the kitchenworker.
Essdara leans back as she approaches, a slight smile playing over her features. As the weyrwoman comes close enough to be politely spoken to, she finally breaks the silence between them. "Anything I can help you find, weyrwoman? Or perhaps something to eat? It's a bit late, but there's still some pastries and meatrolls left. They shouldn't be too stale."
Sinopa's expression pinches just slightly with a slight furrowing of her brows and a touch of narrowed eyes in response to the kitchenworker's friendly offering of food stuffs. "Oh, I don't think I really need anything to nibble on," she finally replies, resting a hand on the table between her and Essdara. "Does the food go stale that quickly? Within hours? Or do you all just..." there's a stop as the young woman searches for words, "keep serving us food that is days old until it runs out?" The gaze of the weyrwoman is level and neutral, although there's another tinge of smile on her lips, as though she had just said something particularly clever or intelligent.
Essdara inclines her head a little at what sounds like an implied insult. Her slight smile widens a bit, and not in a pleasant way. "That." She says, with a vaugly mocking tone, "Would depend on who you are, and whether or not we like you. Of course, we would never serve anything but the best to a weyrwoman. If the best was a few days ago." A carefree shrug, "Well, the best is the best, isn't it?"
Sinopa ought to look insulted, or at least surprised as she's mocked and talked back to by a mere kitchenworker. Instead the weyrwoman looks slightly amused. Her hand on the table moves slightly, index finger bending to poke the wood with its nail. "Oh, I'd disagree and say it's the best of what, really," Sinopa replies in tones that are bordering on false honey, "The best of garbage is nothing more than garbage itself, and everyone will recognize it as garbage no matter what you compare it to."
"Or what color horse it rides in on." Essdara smirks. "But, I am but one cook. If you desire different fare than what you have, then do telk to the head cook. I hear he has a special recipe using the aged meat from the left-over carcasses of the last dragonflight. It's getting on a bit now, but I am sure he'd be only too happy to feed you a delicacy you would remember forever."
The weyrwoman's response is a hollow smile that affords her the opportunity of tossing in a sharp narrowing of the eyes. "That is too kind of you," Sinopa gushes in an overly fake voice, "But I wouldn't dream of taking away from the kithenworker's private collection of meat leftovers. The supply must be dreadfully thin if that's the best offerings you've got."
Essdara says, "Oh, no, ma'am. We wouldn't dream of depriving you." She looks the girl over, and her eyes linger on her chest briefly. "Though perhaps something more filling is needed. You look positively waifish and underfed. I'm used to seeing our weyrwomen with much more... Flesh... To them."
A glint of anger flashes briefly in Sinopa's eyes. "If those working in the kitchens didn't sit about doing nothing but offer stale food and lip to passerbys, then no one would have any problems," she replies in those same falsely sweet tones from before. "And from the looks of things, your useless self must get in trouble and be deprived from such 'delicacies' quite often." This time her tone takes on a more haughty and mocking tone. A false smile ends her brief diatribe and then she turns to go and inflict herself on some bronzeriders at the far end, muttering as she goes off something about filthy workers contaminating food.
Essdara smirks at the retreating goldrider's back, content enough at having driven her away to concede the parting shot to her.
Where: Living Caverns - High Reaches Weyr
When: Late evening on day 21, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Comment: I don't like my poses in this one. I'm not that good at being bitchy with Dara, and it shows.
Sinopa
Tight curls of black are cropped to rest just above the young woman's shoulders. The voluminous mass of curls helps to soften the angular lines of her jaw bone. Large dark brown, nearly black, eyes dominate her face. Set between these expressive dark eyes is a slightly crooked nose with that peculiar look of having been broken many Turns ago. A smattering of freckles decorates her nose and cheekbones, disrupting an otherwise fair complexion. She is of average height, but not so average build. Rather than possessing a womanly, curvy body, her frame consists of diminuitive curves and a small chest.
She wears a dress made of a shimmering pink fabric. The sleeves are quite simple and short, revealing plenty of slightly freckled shoulders. A deep v-neck reveals her (very) modest cleavage. The pastel dress clings to her waist and is draped from her hips. Although there is no obvious pleating at her hips or waist, gentle folds of fabric swish just above ankles above a pair of gold colored shoes. A generously large saffron shawl, with pale red and gold embellishments and tassels, can be found either draped across her shoulders, or draped about her waist and arms. A dark brown round stone is worn on a thick black leather cord around her neck, and she wears two dark wooden bracelets on one wrist.
Threads of dark blue and black, wrapped with shining gold, form the intricate and betassled knot of a junior weyrwoman at High Reaches Weyr.
She appears to be about 19 turns, 8 months, and 23 days old.
---
It is late evening on day 21, month 10, turn 1 of the 7th Pass.
---
Late evening finds the youngest of the native goldriders gently shuffling into the living caverns, shawl wrapped about her shoulders and nary a drop of that awful rain-snow mixture from the outside about her. Someone's very obviously done a well job to not venture a single hair outside. Pausing rather abruptly upon entering the living caverns, Sinopa casts a dark-eyed glance about the large room, scanning to see who is occupying or passing through at this late hour.
At a small tabe by the kitchens sits a lone girl. A warm mug of tea in front of her, and a small plate with a pastry being nibbled at, she seems to be doing her best to ignore the caverns as a whole. A slight frown crosses Essdara's lips periodically, as she sees somone or other that she's annoyed with, but by the looks she gets, people are either used to it, or just plain amused.
Still standing where she has stopped, Sinopa tilts her body a few degrees to the left, increasing the angle of her view. On the periphery the figure of a lone kitchenworker can be seen, and for a moment Sinopa's gaze washes over her as well. Briefly there is a slight crinkling of her nose before she looks onwards to see who else is about.
Essdara looks around the cavern again, and gives a slighs sigh, frustrated. She begins to systematically shred the pastry she was, until a moment ago, intending to eat. Another look around, and her gaze settles on one figure, Sinopa, and curiously looking her over, and failing utterly to be subtle about it.
Sudden movement at another tunnel that empties into the enormous caverns causes Sinopa's attention to snap in that direction. For a moment she watches the entrance of two damp riders before she lifts a hand up to push a curl behind an ear. Then... sometimes you get the feeling you're being watched... and then sometimes you are right. Tilting her head slowly she first eyes Essdara from the corner of her eye before she turns to look at the kitchenworker, slightly quirking a brow in an inquisitive gesture.
Essdara looks down quickly. Noone here is staring, nope. She's just... Well, not eating a pastry. The tea! She quickly scoops up the mug and takes a drink, trying hard to look nonchalant. And peeking back at Sinopa to see if it's at all working.
A tiny hint of mirth is visible in a corner of Sinopa's lips that shows slight twitchings indicating it would very much like to tweak upwards. Without staring outright, Sinopa's gaze takes in the girl as well as her surroundings and background.
A smile? That's not good. She sighs and looks back at the young goldrider again, and after a moment, looks a bit more defiant. Still, she isn't about to yell across the caverns - way too much attention, that. Instead she just offers a slight wave; it could be greeting, it could be invitation to sit. Who can tell?
For a moment the smile manages to break out of its constraint and there's a muted, half-smirk visible on the weyrwoman's expression. It must have been the defiant expression that broke Sinopa's expression control for a moment. The wave prompts Sinopa to fairly saunter on over towards the kitchenworker.
Essdara leans back as she approaches, a slight smile playing over her features. As the weyrwoman comes close enough to be politely spoken to, she finally breaks the silence between them. "Anything I can help you find, weyrwoman? Or perhaps something to eat? It's a bit late, but there's still some pastries and meatrolls left. They shouldn't be too stale."
Sinopa's expression pinches just slightly with a slight furrowing of her brows and a touch of narrowed eyes in response to the kitchenworker's friendly offering of food stuffs. "Oh, I don't think I really need anything to nibble on," she finally replies, resting a hand on the table between her and Essdara. "Does the food go stale that quickly? Within hours? Or do you all just..." there's a stop as the young woman searches for words, "keep serving us food that is days old until it runs out?" The gaze of the weyrwoman is level and neutral, although there's another tinge of smile on her lips, as though she had just said something particularly clever or intelligent.
Essdara inclines her head a little at what sounds like an implied insult. Her slight smile widens a bit, and not in a pleasant way. "That." She says, with a vaugly mocking tone, "Would depend on who you are, and whether or not we like you. Of course, we would never serve anything but the best to a weyrwoman. If the best was a few days ago." A carefree shrug, "Well, the best is the best, isn't it?"
Sinopa ought to look insulted, or at least surprised as she's mocked and talked back to by a mere kitchenworker. Instead the weyrwoman looks slightly amused. Her hand on the table moves slightly, index finger bending to poke the wood with its nail. "Oh, I'd disagree and say it's the best of what, really," Sinopa replies in tones that are bordering on false honey, "The best of garbage is nothing more than garbage itself, and everyone will recognize it as garbage no matter what you compare it to."
"Or what color horse it rides in on." Essdara smirks. "But, I am but one cook. If you desire different fare than what you have, then do telk to the head cook. I hear he has a special recipe using the aged meat from the left-over carcasses of the last dragonflight. It's getting on a bit now, but I am sure he'd be only too happy to feed you a delicacy you would remember forever."
The weyrwoman's response is a hollow smile that affords her the opportunity of tossing in a sharp narrowing of the eyes. "That is too kind of you," Sinopa gushes in an overly fake voice, "But I wouldn't dream of taking away from the kithenworker's private collection of meat leftovers. The supply must be dreadfully thin if that's the best offerings you've got."
Essdara says, "Oh, no, ma'am. We wouldn't dream of depriving you." She looks the girl over, and her eyes linger on her chest briefly. "Though perhaps something more filling is needed. You look positively waifish and underfed. I'm used to seeing our weyrwomen with much more... Flesh... To them."
A glint of anger flashes briefly in Sinopa's eyes. "If those working in the kitchens didn't sit about doing nothing but offer stale food and lip to passerbys, then no one would have any problems," she replies in those same falsely sweet tones from before. "And from the looks of things, your useless self must get in trouble and be deprived from such 'delicacies' quite often." This time her tone takes on a more haughty and mocking tone. A false smile ends her brief diatribe and then she turns to go and inflict herself on some bronzeriders at the far end, muttering as she goes off something about filthy workers contaminating food.
Essdara smirks at the retreating goldrider's back, content enough at having driven her away to concede the parting shot to her.