Log: Second Breakfast
Who: Nenita, P'draig
When: Morning, day 22, month 12, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Kitchen, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy and Nenny catch up and talk much more like they used to.
Kitchen, Ista Weyr
Double-hinged doors, clearly labeled with large signs reading 'In' and 'Out' bring a person into the kitchens of Ista Weyr. The stone-cut ceiling is fairly low compared with other areas and has heavy beams of wood secured into it. From these seemingly decorative carved rafters hang various pots, pans and other useful kitchen items that sway gently back and forth whenever one is grabbed. The back is occupied by two fairly large sized spits, various cooking hearths and the ovens. A curtain covers a wide passageway leading down to the storage caverns.
Islands of marbled counter space occupy most of the middle of the room, obvious patterns and work triangles starting to indent comfortable wear-marks into the floor. These islands are used for kitchen prep with cabinets built underneath them for organized and labeled storage. On the left are the deep, wide sinks and more cabinets, these with carved wooden fronts bearing common sights of Ista such as intertwining tea leaves and various decorous fruit and flower vines. In whatever free space remains on the right, there's a scattering a small tables for the errant passerby or kitchen worker to sit at and grab a drink or quick bite to eat.
With the breakfast rush being just past its highest point, Nenita has found time to make it down to the kitchens. She's situated at one of the little tables next to the wall, picking away at her own meal though her attention seems to be focused almost entirely on the workers. The reason for that is abundantly clear within moments as two of those watched people begin to get into some type of arguement. Over a stolen boyfriend or who's going to 'finish this' first, it's hard to tell. The weyrling in the meantime keeps putting the fork to her mouth, though she stares with a sort of wide-eyed wonder like someone passing an accident.
"... no just going to go see about something." That'd be the Weyrlingmaster's voice as P'draig pushes through the doors and then comes to a halt as he catches wind of that argument over there. Oh-kay. Maybe best wait on that. He edges around to the side and thus spots Nenita at that table, jerks his thumb towards the show, makes big eyes. "Hey. Mind company while the war over there blows over?"
They've now gone onto who's going to find who later as various associates begin to pull the two apart. As P'draig is coming in the whole spectacle pretty much aborbs all of her attention. She doesn't realize he's at the table until he's really at the table. His voice brings her out of it and she jerks a little bit in the seat and turning quickly to face him. There's a blink or two until she laughs at her own jumpiness, gesturing towards the chair across from her. "Oh, sure. Take a seat. Sorry, I was being a bit of a spectator."
Laughing a little, P'draig pulls out that chair, flips it around and straddles it, sits with his arms folded atop the table. "Yeah, it's a spectacle all right. Passions fanned high in the kitchens," he says with good humor and nods across at the weyrling. "How's breakfast? I'm pondering getting a second one. Though I actually came in looking for one of the cooks to ask about a recipe."
"It's been good. A little excitement never hurt my digestion any." Nenita replies with an amused pull to her lips. "I hope it's not that one. I think she'll be busy a little while." She nods her head in the direction of one woman who's consoling one of the battling workers. One that is now in tears post-confrontation. "Do you have enough room in your stomach to have another meal?" Leaning forward she tries to get a little peak in at his front, just in case it holds a clue.
"No, Ailna, she's one of the older ones," P'draig answers with a grin. "Been here a long time and well you know, if the baker craft handed out honorary knots, I'd recommend her for one," he adds sincerely. "She might be on break right now, given the time." Paddy laughs again at that peek and straightens up, pats his stomach. "Sure. The first one was before sunrise, so there you go."
"Oh! I think that I saw her before." She pulls out of the leaning, looking towards the work area with a more observant eye this time. "Maybe she is on her break." Without spotting the older cook, Nenita refocuses onto P'draig. "So really..." She begins, lifting an eyebrow and smiling. "You're talking about taking an early lunch. You know if you start taking meals earlier one thing can lead to another and the next thing you know dinner is at six in the morning."
"Yeah? Hm, I'll have to take a look around in a little bit. She made this wrapped fish one time that was just really good. I'd like to try my hand at making it that way," P'draig explains further about his pursuit of the cook in question. His gaze returns to Nenita's face though, smile hooking up both corners of his mouth. "Or elevenses," he counters, laughs again. "Yeah well, every time there's weyrlings, I get used to getting up early again and it takes a while to shake the habit even if I still get up pretty early when there's no weyrlings around. So I do, I get hungry before lunchtime and then I want snack in the afternoon before dinner ever rolls around, so you're right. Before you know it, you're going to see me digging into wherry and tubers first thing in the morning!" Clearly, there's some teasing going on here.
"Oh, fish. Don't mention the word fish around me anymore. I can't take anymore discussion of those slimey things. Or the ways we can prepare them or cook them." Nenita makes a face and shakes her head. She sticks her fork into a piece of food (one that definitely isn't fish) and shoves it into her mouth. His reaction to her teasing results in the look of disgust phasing over into a smile accompanied by a giggle. "That would be catostrophic. The cooks would be all sorts of confused as to why you were down here turning the spit on and getting the gravy out."
"From the pavilion planning?" P'draig asks about the fish and then nods. "I can tell you all about the dessert I made down at the Sandbar the other day instead?" he suggests, still jaunty of tone and his eyes widen a little as she giggles. "Wouldn't it? A baker who is all turned topsy turvy about times for meals. I'd never live it down. Kip'll never let me cook for him again." He winks at her then and holds up a finger in a wait a moment gesture as he gets back to his feet and steps over to an older woman who's just come in. A moment's conversation and some laughter, result in Paddy ticking things off on his fingers, nodding, then returning with a plate of breakfast foods to boot. "There. All set." He spears a homefried tuber with his fork and pops it into his mouth. "Good stuff. Going to need the energy for drills later."
"Exactly. It's one of those things that seemed like a cute idea at inception. But I'm so tired of "mockfish grill" this and "mockfish stew" that and all sorts of other ideas. Rolls, wraps, chowder, fish on a damn stick." Nenita shakes her head, poking more at her plate. When the weyrlingmaster takes his temporary leave she wiggles her fingers at him. The rest of her food is quickly finished off and she pushes it away from her, leaning back while she watches his conversation from afar. "Good memory there. I'd never remember any of that, at least not now. I feel like I walk around with a piece of paper in front of my face all the time just to remember what happened a few minutes ago." Was that a little groan of discontent for drills later? Oh well. Maybe she's just sigh in admiration for his tuber eating skills. "I've hardly seen you outside of those, you know. How've you been?"
"That would generally be the problem with concept menus," P'draig says sympathetically about the mockfish on his return once his mouth is clear and nods. "Yeah. It's not a complicated set of steps either as it turns out," he says about the trade of recipe that just took place. He looks across the table though, eyes scanning her face. "Too much information getting all rattled around in there?" Pause. "Not pushing too hard, are you, Nenny?" That's asked in a lower tone of voice, a trace of concern in the lines of his face. A touch of sheepishness takes over in a moment though and Paddy scrubs at his hair with his non-fork-holding hand nods. "Yeah -- I've been heading over to Fort a bit. There's a bluerider there. She's -- well there was a flight and sex and now there's a baby coming in three months."
"Oh, no. Not at all. I've just been following other people around and seeing how they do their jobs. It's been absolutely fascinating as well as the most dull experience of my life." Nenita smiles a little tiredly there. "I've been learning how the weyr sets up for these party things lately. It's a little more hectic than I thought it would be." She lifts her shoulders in a 'what can you do' fashion. When the hair scrubbing begins and the sheepish look, she raises an eyebrow. And then he gives an answer. Apparently she really wasn't expecting him to say 'baby' in that explanation anywhere because her mouth drops a little. "Well then. Congratulations? Have you considered not having sex with women? It seems like you're very fertile. I'm lucky I escaped un-pregnant."
The last gets addressed first as P'draig takes in the mouth-drop and then the little quip and he looks down at his plate for a moment. "Thank you," he finally says, looking back up and across at her, "for the congratulations. For all it's weird to be having another kid at Fort, instead of here, I'm actualy happy. And she's always wanted kids, so there you go," Paddy says quietly and his gaze drops away again, fork poking at tubers but not picking any up. "I do usually take precautions, Nenny. When it's not a flight. Not always all that checked in after a flight, even when Jekzith loses," he continues then falls silent for a moment or two. "Anyway, it's been hectic? Just -- because of the food planning, or other parts of the whole thing? And you have to explain about how something can be dull and fascinating all at the same time."
Nenita reaches across the table to gently push into his wrist with her fingers. "I'm just kidding about that last bit, you know." She watches him carefully, her lips curling up into a little smile, eyebrows raising. "Haha?" When he seems ready to move onto other subjects she begins to remove her hand, shoulders shrugging once more. "Menu planning and all the little details, as well as the usual things that I'm supposed to get done." The smile is back again, "Some days I'm very interested in learning everything. And the others? I really wish I could just stay home and not have to see another invoice or listen to another resident complain about their job."
That push at his wrist draws a little smile and as her fingers aim to draw back, P'draig reaches to catch them lightly, gives her hand a squeeze. But it's the cooking he goes back to, dropping the other subject like a hot potato. "Yeah. That can be a lot all at once, I mean shells, they teach whole classes on menu planning to bakers," he says with a little shake of his head, then listens again, attentive. "So it can be interesting and busy in a good way, but it piles up eventually?"
"Yeah, because it's not just the main dish. It's everything that has to go along with the main dish. People think it's just a bunch of stuff thrown together, but it's not." Nenita shakes her head at the mere thought of it just being 'stuff'. She takes a moment to loosely twist her fingers, tangling them comfortably with his. "Yes exactly. I understand why people want to take vacations and rest days and why people higher up in the ranks don't like talking to people down at the very bottom." With her free hand she makes appropriate hand motions to illustrate. "And I see where not talking to people down at the bottom is a really crappy idea."
"Mmhm. It takes a lot of careful planning and attention to flavors and everything," P'draig agrees about menus, fingers slipping lightly between hers in turn. "Yeah," he adds quietly, a note of understanding in his voice. "It's a balance, time for yourself, time for everyone else, taking care of things and not pissing anyone off all at the same time. In a lot of ways, I'm thankful that Jekzith is brown and can never make me Weyrleader."
Nenita's fingers wiggle against his while their hands lay on the table. "Seems like it's almost too much for one person to handle sometimes. Thankfully I'm not up for being in charge of anything major anytime soon." She smiles until that distant look takes place on her face. Sincerly, "It's been nice actually talking to you again, Paddy." But then there's apology coming. "I have to take some time to pay attention to Safriath. She's agitated today." There's a roll of her eyes before she pulls her hand away and scoops up her dishes. "I'll see you later?" It's posed questioningly, but she doesn't really leave enough time for him to answer before she disappears into the living cavern.
Wiggling fingers earn a grin and after a moment, a brush of his thumb against the side of her hand, light. "No, and maybe never, depending on how things go, though this will all be good practice if you do," P'draig says seriously enough. His smile is bright in answer to her sincerity. "You too Nenny. And go on, can't have an agitated queen." His hand slides away from hers and his arm curls around his plate a little. "I'll see you later," he confirms over his shoulder as she sets off and he turns back to finish off the contents of his plate.
When: Morning, day 22, month 12, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Kitchen, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy and Nenny catch up and talk much more like they used to.
Kitchen, Ista Weyr
Double-hinged doors, clearly labeled with large signs reading 'In' and 'Out' bring a person into the kitchens of Ista Weyr. The stone-cut ceiling is fairly low compared with other areas and has heavy beams of wood secured into it. From these seemingly decorative carved rafters hang various pots, pans and other useful kitchen items that sway gently back and forth whenever one is grabbed. The back is occupied by two fairly large sized spits, various cooking hearths and the ovens. A curtain covers a wide passageway leading down to the storage caverns.
Islands of marbled counter space occupy most of the middle of the room, obvious patterns and work triangles starting to indent comfortable wear-marks into the floor. These islands are used for kitchen prep with cabinets built underneath them for organized and labeled storage. On the left are the deep, wide sinks and more cabinets, these with carved wooden fronts bearing common sights of Ista such as intertwining tea leaves and various decorous fruit and flower vines. In whatever free space remains on the right, there's a scattering a small tables for the errant passerby or kitchen worker to sit at and grab a drink or quick bite to eat.
With the breakfast rush being just past its highest point, Nenita has found time to make it down to the kitchens. She's situated at one of the little tables next to the wall, picking away at her own meal though her attention seems to be focused almost entirely on the workers. The reason for that is abundantly clear within moments as two of those watched people begin to get into some type of arguement. Over a stolen boyfriend or who's going to 'finish this' first, it's hard to tell. The weyrling in the meantime keeps putting the fork to her mouth, though she stares with a sort of wide-eyed wonder like someone passing an accident.
"... no just going to go see about something." That'd be the Weyrlingmaster's voice as P'draig pushes through the doors and then comes to a halt as he catches wind of that argument over there. Oh-kay. Maybe best wait on that. He edges around to the side and thus spots Nenita at that table, jerks his thumb towards the show, makes big eyes. "Hey. Mind company while the war over there blows over?"
They've now gone onto who's going to find who later as various associates begin to pull the two apart. As P'draig is coming in the whole spectacle pretty much aborbs all of her attention. She doesn't realize he's at the table until he's really at the table. His voice brings her out of it and she jerks a little bit in the seat and turning quickly to face him. There's a blink or two until she laughs at her own jumpiness, gesturing towards the chair across from her. "Oh, sure. Take a seat. Sorry, I was being a bit of a spectator."
Laughing a little, P'draig pulls out that chair, flips it around and straddles it, sits with his arms folded atop the table. "Yeah, it's a spectacle all right. Passions fanned high in the kitchens," he says with good humor and nods across at the weyrling. "How's breakfast? I'm pondering getting a second one. Though I actually came in looking for one of the cooks to ask about a recipe."
"It's been good. A little excitement never hurt my digestion any." Nenita replies with an amused pull to her lips. "I hope it's not that one. I think she'll be busy a little while." She nods her head in the direction of one woman who's consoling one of the battling workers. One that is now in tears post-confrontation. "Do you have enough room in your stomach to have another meal?" Leaning forward she tries to get a little peak in at his front, just in case it holds a clue.
"No, Ailna, she's one of the older ones," P'draig answers with a grin. "Been here a long time and well you know, if the baker craft handed out honorary knots, I'd recommend her for one," he adds sincerely. "She might be on break right now, given the time." Paddy laughs again at that peek and straightens up, pats his stomach. "Sure. The first one was before sunrise, so there you go."
"Oh! I think that I saw her before." She pulls out of the leaning, looking towards the work area with a more observant eye this time. "Maybe she is on her break." Without spotting the older cook, Nenita refocuses onto P'draig. "So really..." She begins, lifting an eyebrow and smiling. "You're talking about taking an early lunch. You know if you start taking meals earlier one thing can lead to another and the next thing you know dinner is at six in the morning."
"Yeah? Hm, I'll have to take a look around in a little bit. She made this wrapped fish one time that was just really good. I'd like to try my hand at making it that way," P'draig explains further about his pursuit of the cook in question. His gaze returns to Nenita's face though, smile hooking up both corners of his mouth. "Or elevenses," he counters, laughs again. "Yeah well, every time there's weyrlings, I get used to getting up early again and it takes a while to shake the habit even if I still get up pretty early when there's no weyrlings around. So I do, I get hungry before lunchtime and then I want snack in the afternoon before dinner ever rolls around, so you're right. Before you know it, you're going to see me digging into wherry and tubers first thing in the morning!" Clearly, there's some teasing going on here.
"Oh, fish. Don't mention the word fish around me anymore. I can't take anymore discussion of those slimey things. Or the ways we can prepare them or cook them." Nenita makes a face and shakes her head. She sticks her fork into a piece of food (one that definitely isn't fish) and shoves it into her mouth. His reaction to her teasing results in the look of disgust phasing over into a smile accompanied by a giggle. "That would be catostrophic. The cooks would be all sorts of confused as to why you were down here turning the spit on and getting the gravy out."
"From the pavilion planning?" P'draig asks about the fish and then nods. "I can tell you all about the dessert I made down at the Sandbar the other day instead?" he suggests, still jaunty of tone and his eyes widen a little as she giggles. "Wouldn't it? A baker who is all turned topsy turvy about times for meals. I'd never live it down. Kip'll never let me cook for him again." He winks at her then and holds up a finger in a wait a moment gesture as he gets back to his feet and steps over to an older woman who's just come in. A moment's conversation and some laughter, result in Paddy ticking things off on his fingers, nodding, then returning with a plate of breakfast foods to boot. "There. All set." He spears a homefried tuber with his fork and pops it into his mouth. "Good stuff. Going to need the energy for drills later."
"Exactly. It's one of those things that seemed like a cute idea at inception. But I'm so tired of "mockfish grill" this and "mockfish stew" that and all sorts of other ideas. Rolls, wraps, chowder, fish on a damn stick." Nenita shakes her head, poking more at her plate. When the weyrlingmaster takes his temporary leave she wiggles her fingers at him. The rest of her food is quickly finished off and she pushes it away from her, leaning back while she watches his conversation from afar. "Good memory there. I'd never remember any of that, at least not now. I feel like I walk around with a piece of paper in front of my face all the time just to remember what happened a few minutes ago." Was that a little groan of discontent for drills later? Oh well. Maybe she's just sigh in admiration for his tuber eating skills. "I've hardly seen you outside of those, you know. How've you been?"
"That would generally be the problem with concept menus," P'draig says sympathetically about the mockfish on his return once his mouth is clear and nods. "Yeah. It's not a complicated set of steps either as it turns out," he says about the trade of recipe that just took place. He looks across the table though, eyes scanning her face. "Too much information getting all rattled around in there?" Pause. "Not pushing too hard, are you, Nenny?" That's asked in a lower tone of voice, a trace of concern in the lines of his face. A touch of sheepishness takes over in a moment though and Paddy scrubs at his hair with his non-fork-holding hand nods. "Yeah -- I've been heading over to Fort a bit. There's a bluerider there. She's -- well there was a flight and sex and now there's a baby coming in three months."
"Oh, no. Not at all. I've just been following other people around and seeing how they do their jobs. It's been absolutely fascinating as well as the most dull experience of my life." Nenita smiles a little tiredly there. "I've been learning how the weyr sets up for these party things lately. It's a little more hectic than I thought it would be." She lifts her shoulders in a 'what can you do' fashion. When the hair scrubbing begins and the sheepish look, she raises an eyebrow. And then he gives an answer. Apparently she really wasn't expecting him to say 'baby' in that explanation anywhere because her mouth drops a little. "Well then. Congratulations? Have you considered not having sex with women? It seems like you're very fertile. I'm lucky I escaped un-pregnant."
The last gets addressed first as P'draig takes in the mouth-drop and then the little quip and he looks down at his plate for a moment. "Thank you," he finally says, looking back up and across at her, "for the congratulations. For all it's weird to be having another kid at Fort, instead of here, I'm actualy happy. And she's always wanted kids, so there you go," Paddy says quietly and his gaze drops away again, fork poking at tubers but not picking any up. "I do usually take precautions, Nenny. When it's not a flight. Not always all that checked in after a flight, even when Jekzith loses," he continues then falls silent for a moment or two. "Anyway, it's been hectic? Just -- because of the food planning, or other parts of the whole thing? And you have to explain about how something can be dull and fascinating all at the same time."
Nenita reaches across the table to gently push into his wrist with her fingers. "I'm just kidding about that last bit, you know." She watches him carefully, her lips curling up into a little smile, eyebrows raising. "Haha?" When he seems ready to move onto other subjects she begins to remove her hand, shoulders shrugging once more. "Menu planning and all the little details, as well as the usual things that I'm supposed to get done." The smile is back again, "Some days I'm very interested in learning everything. And the others? I really wish I could just stay home and not have to see another invoice or listen to another resident complain about their job."
That push at his wrist draws a little smile and as her fingers aim to draw back, P'draig reaches to catch them lightly, gives her hand a squeeze. But it's the cooking he goes back to, dropping the other subject like a hot potato. "Yeah. That can be a lot all at once, I mean shells, they teach whole classes on menu planning to bakers," he says with a little shake of his head, then listens again, attentive. "So it can be interesting and busy in a good way, but it piles up eventually?"
"Yeah, because it's not just the main dish. It's everything that has to go along with the main dish. People think it's just a bunch of stuff thrown together, but it's not." Nenita shakes her head at the mere thought of it just being 'stuff'. She takes a moment to loosely twist her fingers, tangling them comfortably with his. "Yes exactly. I understand why people want to take vacations and rest days and why people higher up in the ranks don't like talking to people down at the very bottom." With her free hand she makes appropriate hand motions to illustrate. "And I see where not talking to people down at the bottom is a really crappy idea."
"Mmhm. It takes a lot of careful planning and attention to flavors and everything," P'draig agrees about menus, fingers slipping lightly between hers in turn. "Yeah," he adds quietly, a note of understanding in his voice. "It's a balance, time for yourself, time for everyone else, taking care of things and not pissing anyone off all at the same time. In a lot of ways, I'm thankful that Jekzith is brown and can never make me Weyrleader."
Nenita's fingers wiggle against his while their hands lay on the table. "Seems like it's almost too much for one person to handle sometimes. Thankfully I'm not up for being in charge of anything major anytime soon." She smiles until that distant look takes place on her face. Sincerly, "It's been nice actually talking to you again, Paddy." But then there's apology coming. "I have to take some time to pay attention to Safriath. She's agitated today." There's a roll of her eyes before she pulls her hand away and scoops up her dishes. "I'll see you later?" It's posed questioningly, but she doesn't really leave enough time for him to answer before she disappears into the living cavern.
Wiggling fingers earn a grin and after a moment, a brush of his thumb against the side of her hand, light. "No, and maybe never, depending on how things go, though this will all be good practice if you do," P'draig says seriously enough. His smile is bright in answer to her sincerity. "You too Nenny. And go on, can't have an agitated queen." His hand slides away from hers and his arm curls around his plate a little. "I'll see you later," he confirms over his shoulder as she sets off and he turns back to finish off the contents of his plate.