Log: Rusted Hulk, Meet The Weyrlings
RL: April 11, 2008.
VR: Day 21, month 12, Turn 15, of the Interval. It is a winter afternoon.
(Original log from L'vae)
The weyrling crew unwinds at the Rusted Hulk after their long, long, long, long flight to Tillek. Some have more marks, or are more willing to spend them, than others.
SeaCraft Hall - The Rusted Hulk
Tilted to one side, this large and comfortable room has been 'evened out' by the addition of a warm wooden floor. Various tall tables with mismatched tall stools are scattered around the room. Glowbaskets line the walls, their subtle lighting casts comfortable shadows throughout the interior of this old vessel. Along the back wall is a small bar with three stools sitting in front of it. Bottles of wine have been placed in deep, dusty cubbieholes behind it. A recent addition to the Hulk and looking somewhat out of place, is an artists portrayal of the Weavercraft Craftmaster, which has been framed, and placed on one wall. The frame itself is the feature however, and not the portrait itself of the attractive Master. Sewn carefully together are a selection of bright pink pieces of underwear, sent my the master herself, and which now cover the frame, giving Katlynn's portrait a rosy glow in the lighting of the Hulk.
It's a long flight straight from the Weyr and over the mountains toward the ocean; by the time the weyrling dragons arrive, the greens and some of the blues are dragging, as is Zunaeth, his wing shaking with the long effort of flying. The Seacraft Hall on Tillek's shores is a welcome sight for pretty much everyone by then, and Zunaeth leads the way in gliding down to the courtyard outside. Then it's passengers off, and I'daur's turn to lead the way, limping as much as his dragon as he heads toward the Rusted Hulk. The bartender inside seems quite familiar with the weyrlingmaster, lifting a hand in greeting, though the trail of weyrlings behind him earn raised brows.
The flight is long and hard on Wroth, mostly due to his smaller nature compared to his fellow browns. Even so, he does not show it in his landing and he glares around at any that might doubt his ability. E'dre has no such care and slides off of his brown with learned grace and follows after the weyrlingmaster. His eyes are appreciative as they enter and he murmurs to the closest weyrling, "This should be fun. Wonder if we'll see a brawl?" Grin.
After one more check of Ashmyth and countless reassurances from the AWLM staff and the dragon herself that she'll be fine in a bit, Viviana reluctantly trails behind a queue of weyrlings, being one of the last. The holder girl's eyes widen as she takes in the whole of the tavern. The pink adorned wall pinkens her own cheeks and Vivy can only "Oh my!" as she looks about.
Up to the bar slides I'daur, dropping into a seat on one of the stools there while the barkeep hauls out a bottle of good whiskey for him without even having to be asked. A glass poured, sip taken, I'daur turns to lean an arm back against the bar while he watches the weyrlings file in, some of them excited, some at home, some nervous. It's one of the latter ones he singles out now, glancing to Viviana. "Never been in one before?" he asks.
E'dre eyes the framed picture closely, the reaction he's giving of appreciation where Viviana is obviously appalled. He moves up to the bar itself, sliding easily into a chair as his arm flops on the bar. "It is a bit of a shock I guess. I hadn't been in this one, but I've seen worse." He shrugs, looking around once more and then back to the barkeep. He turns a hopeful look on the weyrlingmaster. "Might we get a refreshment?"
Viviana shakes her head and her eyes go wide again. "I heard such places existed, but no, sir, never seen anything like this before." She's not nervous, anything but, but it is all new and she can't help but stare. Wise enough not to stare at any inhabitants of the bar, she keeps her attention on the decor. "She must be liked a whole lot. The woman on the wall.." She edges up near the Weyrlingmaster, peering over at the menu.
"Long as you can pay," I'daur remarks, with a lift of his shoulders in answer to E'dre. A jerk of his chin indicated the bartender behind him. "Talk to him. Just try not to get yourself too drunk, or I'll leave you here overnight--might anyway, rest up Wroth." He takes another slow sip of his liquor before twisting his neck enough to glance over the picture Viviana points out, unbothered. "Must be," he agrees. And, "Don't seem much your kinda place--no noble games for noble riders, or whatever it was."
L’vae is keeping his head down, sticking to the middle of the pack of weyrlings as they filter into the Seacraft’s bar. He tilts a hip onto a stool at the table nearest the bar, arms coming to fold loosely in front of him as he finally scans a look about the place. Almost furtively. But afterwards he seems a bit more settled, tension relaxing out of his shoulders as he slides a little more fully onto the stool, one knee bending as a heel is rested on one of the lower rungs. His gaze comes to land with light curiosity on the three of his party near the bar, a hint of a smile lifting at one corner of his mouth.
E'dre lifts his hand to call the barkeep closer and pauses in ordering as I'daur makes his comment. He scowls, "He's not in need of rest, /sir/," he stresses that pronoun and then clears his face. "Ah yes, I'd like a glass of your best white, please." He grins, "I know Tillek's got a decent enough vintage most days." He roots in his pocket for a mark and slides it forward, "Got one on me for that mark there -- Oh, unless you'd like me to buy for ya Viviana?" he asks the girl first and then looks over at L'vae as he settles near. "Or you, I guess, if you want somethin' and don't have mark for it."
Viviana makes a face as she reaches into her pocket, coming up with more lint than marks. With a philosophical shrug, she counts out an eight of a mark. "I couldn't say if it was my type of place as I've never been before, have I?" With that logic, she stands on her tiptoes, using the bar's edge as support as she brightly peers over the menu for anything in her price range. "I have enough for a pint of ale, if that. So I don't have to worry about getting drunk." Peering sideways at L'vae, she smiles saucily. "Hey Seacrafter, can a girl buy you a half a pint?" She sniffs at E'dre's offer and stiffly replies. "I have my own marks, thankyouverymuch"
"Wine," says I'daur, as disdainfully as he can. He just shakes his head and takes another swig of whiskey, then refills it. "Ale," and unlike E'dre, Viviana might have just earned a little of his respect back, as he cocks a brow and glances over the young girl, apparently impressed. "L'vae," he notices that weyrling when Viviana turns to him, though he remarks to E'dre, "Not your night, apparently. Maybe with a better haircut."
L’vae gives a little shake of his head at E’dre’s offer. “I’ve my own marks.” He adds a flash of a smile, sincere. “But thank you.” And then Viviana catches his eye, his gaze sliding over to the girl. There’s a flicker of tightness to his jaw but then his brows arch high in amusement. “You’d share your one pint?” Maybe a little touched, but mostly chuckling. “I’m quite all right, thank you.” His grin stretches wider. I’daur’s notice is returned with a small tip of a nod, though his gaze turns back between E’dre and Viviana at the weyrlingmaster’s comment.
E'dre shrugs his shoulder at Vivy's refusal. "All right, suit yourself. Just trying to be a gentlemen." He looks at L'vae, nods his head, and proceeds to sip his wine while looking around the room at large. His attention focuses on a group playing 'poker in the corner. "Hm and hm."
Viviana shrugs at I'daur's mild kudos. "’Cause it's a lot of ale and I haven't had much since ... before I was a candidate. Wine's ...well, it's for those who got marks at places like this." Glancing E'dre's way with outright dislike, she pauses, passes her marks over for the ale, counting out a sixteenth of a mark for a tip and receives her ale. "Gentlemen aren't born, they are created through experience.." Sniff!
Leova enters right behind Rhonda, wind-ruffled and worn from tiredness that isn't just hers alone, already stripping herself of her jacket as she gets into the warm room and the pair moves to join the others by the bar. Though they're talking, it's low, just the occasional laugh.
I'daur leans back more against the bar, where he sits with E'dre and Viviana and L'vae. Many of other weyrlings are milling about or exploring, while the dragons rest up in the courtyard outside after a long flight. "Wine's for people that think they're somebody, anywhere," he remarks dryly. "'N' don't worry--comes right back to you," is his take on drinking again, to Viviana.
L’vae is a bit bemused as he watches the interchange between E’dre and Viviana. The girl’s later comment has another quiet laugh breathing softly in his chest. Unfolding from his stool, now that the other three have ordered, Lou edges up to the bar. His eyes curiously follow E’dre’s for a moment - lingering on that poker game a moment. “You don’t think it’s just a matter of taste preference?” The weyrling asks of I’daur idly. Vivy’s waving draws his notice to Leova and he gives a greeting nod. Leaning into the bar beside Viviana, L’vae finally orders his own drink - cider.
Leova casts a look for their weyrlingmaster. Finding him, though maybe it's more the voice than visuals, she goes back to talking off to the side until Rhonda catches Viviana's beckon and actually turns the other greenrider around and murmurs something into her ear. Leova shrugs. Takes Rhonda's jacket, why not, and the two part: Rhonda to join the group staring and snickering at the pink-adorned painting, Leova to toss their jackets on the growing pile of outerwear on the way to sliding into the spot right where Viviana wants her. Another look around searches for Moll, but then she says, "Thanks for saving me a spot, Vivy." Even if it's to be the girl's personal shield. "Got anything good yet?"
In answer to L'vae, I'daur just shrugs. "Why you think they prefer it?" he turns the question around, fields it back at the brown weyrling. "Leova," he greets the next to join them, with a nod for her as he settles back.
Viviana smiles again, looking Leova over up and down. "You look simply lovely in a ride for hours on dragonback and mess up your hair sort of way. I feel about the same." She takes another tiny sip, nursing her drink as she glances over Leova's shoulder over to the card players -- then off to one corner where a couple are getting to know each other --over wine. "You know, it's not so decadent and morally horrid as people say." She sounds disappointed.
Lujayn has already scoped out a good table, among the earlier arrivals to the bar. A basket of fish and chips before her along with a tall glass of juice, but the weyrling's attention is focused more on those just entering. Snagging her meal to go in both hands, she moves her way through the crowd to Viviana and Leova. "Chip?" Offered with a smile as she invites herself to sit.
"Sir," Leova says mildly, tired as the faint smile she gives L'vae, the more indulgent one for Viviana. Leaning an elbow on the bar once the shorter greenrider is done looking her over, she says, "Just wait until you get a little more to drink, and start thinking the floor really is... that way." She waves to the way the ship's tilted around them. "What kind of preferences we talking about?"
Leova adds a, "Thanks. Smart going, getting the food early, Lu."
L’vae exchanges marks for cider and takes a step back from the bar, reaching out with a hooked foot for that stool he’d been sitting on previously. A shrug is given to I’daur. “It’s not as filling? Higher alcohol content?” The weyrling takes a drink of his cider as he leans a hip on the stool again. His eyes look back to the girls, crinkling in a smile as Lujayn arrives, too. The expression is brief, though there’s still a smile on his lips as his mug lowers to answer Leova’s question. “Alcohol… wine. If it’s a sign of pretension.”
Viviana shakes her head in thanks to Lujayn's offer. "No thank you, this ale will fill me up enough. I had a meatroll as we flew. And I definitely am /not/ going to drink that much Leova. Even if I could, I don't have that sort of marks." She smirks at L'vae's assessment. "More like it's cheaper and therefore you can drink more of it. I wouldn't say pretension, L'vae.." She ponders over the topic as she sips. "More like -- umm, some people enjoy wine and it's their hobby. Other people use it as way to show off their knowledge, then it's pretentious."
Lujayn shrugs, keeping her mouth full and ears open. "Or if they drink it to look fancy," She tacks onto Viviana's statement. "But I'd hate to fly drunk. Juice is fine for me." Then there's more fish. She's doing fine polishing off the basket even without anyone's help. "Could you imagine how disorienting that would be?"
Tired or not, Leova has to chuckle back at Viviana. "What? Not going for the cheap stuff? Anyway, wine tastes better watered than the others. Sort of like juice, when you don't have to worry about whether the fruit's gone bad. Like here, maybe." She gives Lujayn a sidelong smile, reaching over to try and nab a bit of her fish too, but the move's slow on purpose and easy to stop.
Viviana shakes her head, stubbornly. "Ale's cheap and I won't drink to excess. I don't have the ..." She sighs, leaving her mantra of no marks to herself. Turning so she can lean against bar and look about the bar, she can't keep her eyes off the pink wall. "I've never seen that much underwear displayed in an artistic way before. You'd feel like a girl in those, huh Lu?"
Eyes widen innocently as Viviana takes issue with his word, L’vae’s free hand gesturing towards I’daur. Pinning credit for the concept onto the weyrlingmaster. Lujayn’s comment on flying drunk has an indulgently thoughtful look twisting on his features, gaze turning up. He gives a slow shake of his head. “Can’t imagine,” he says in quiet aside, eyes flicking back to I’daur. Maybe it’s because his attention’s away that he misunderstands Vivy. “Pardon?” the word is said with short befuddlement as Lou snaps a look back to Viviana, blinking.
"Go 'head," Lujayn gestures to the plate and pushes it a bit more towards the center of the table, happy to share. She blinks at Viviana, hard-put to figure out how to take that particular comment. "I already feel like a girl," Lu decides to reply easily, but coughs out a laugh (along with some juice) when L'vae turns. "Yeah, Louie. I think you'd look cute in those." She teases. Are we sure that's only juice in her glass?
Leova gives Lujayn a toast from her invisible glass as thanks, and idly munches, nibbling off the breading before working on the bit of fish itself. It's not so preoccupying that she can't look past Vivy, eyes narrowed on the show. "That would be a sight," she agrees. "Question is, how many of the pink things would it take?"
Viviana giggles, moving to elbow him lightly. "Silly thing. I am talking about girls feeling like girls, you are definitely all boy the way you are all angles and such on that stool. Girl's never sit that way, even if they are boyish. No, no matter how pink, you'd never be able to pull it off, I agree with Leova" Her gaze goes up once again to the wall. "You know what I mean, Lujayn. We've been in these stinky clothes and such for over a turn. It'd be nice to be ... seen as a girl again. Well, not that I am saying anyone is going to see me in my scivvies any time soon but wearing them.... even if you are the only one who knows what you are wearing...." She sighs,. "You feel like a girl."
Niena has apparently decided to sit this one out, and instead nurses a glass of nice, free water. She is watching the others, though, and almost smiling.
Leova protests mildly, "I've washed!"
“Shh, you girls are going to get me into trouble,” L’vae says with his down-ward palm stretched towards them. There’s a smile at one corner of his mouth, and his voice is mostly light, but there’s an edge of actual worry as he peeks a gaze out towards the more regular denizens of the bar. Color is hot in his ears. Vivana’s words, however, seem to mostly mollify him. They don’t do much for the flush, though. “Thank you,” he says with a tip of his head and returns to his cider as the girls go on about being girly.
Lujayn nods to Viviana. "Thinking about wearing dresses as soon as you graduate?" Her eyes roam across faces, finally turning from the pink display and settling on Niena. "What about you?" She raises her voice a bit, trying to catch the bluerider's eye. "Think those would do any good if no one could see 'em?"
Viviana pffts as she takes another sip. She still has at least three quarters of her pint to drink. "You were the one who mentioned getting dressed up in pink underwear, not me. I wasn't talking about you -- but..." She teases. "I could sew you something very nice?" Eyeing Niena's safe drink, the greenriding weyrling shakes her head. "You could have risked a .... strong klah or something, you know." Leova and Lujayn are met with a smirk and a chuckle. "You know what I meant. I just want to feel ...like me again. Trousers for duty but oh, I long for just one good swish of a sisal skirt against my legs."
Leova's gaze lingers on L'vae, then glances past before she turns back to the other weyrlings, licking the last of the fish oils off her fingers. "Sisal," she says a little wistfully. "Nothing like it. Though the way it just won't stop rustling sometimes? Don't know if I could still take that. And the shoes."
Niena smiles. "I think I could go without dresses again, though maybe once I've forgotten the brown one I always wore before being searched, I'll feel differently. A gather gown, on the other hand... that would be nice.
L’vae eyes Viviana warily, a cautious edge to his smile. “I don’t need anything quite like that, thank you.” He listens with amused interest to the talk of sisal skirts, an inquiring “Shoes?” even posed after Leova’s comments. But his attention shift to Niena, interested in what her answer to Lujayn’s question will be. It brings a soft smile to the man’s lips, but maybe he seems a bit disappointed as the not-seen issue is left unaddressed. His gaze drops back to his cider, grin quirking a bit more.
"They have things like that in stores," Tipping back the rest of her juice and reaching for a lingering bit of fish, Lujayn nods. "Dresses, skirts, clothing of all sizes for anyone who needs it. Not that they're the fanciest," A tilt of the head, nearly apologetic. "But if you really can't stand breeches any more, they're all waiting." L'vae's query gets a little thought. "I don't know about shoes. Boots have always worked well for me. No reason to change a good thing, I guess."
Gather dresses. That's Leova hitting her limit. Not that it shows at first, not until she starts talking. "Not proper leather shoes. Slippers, really. The sort that gets dirty in two seconds flat, you wear them outside, so you wear your normal shoes with your dress until you get there and change and," then she finally catches up with what she's saying. Stops. Shakes her head just a little, and murmurs softly to Viviana before swapping places with her fellow greenrider, adding a few words to L'vae before leaning back against the taller weyrling.
Niena makes a face at the mention of slippers. "Not those, though."
Viviana tries her best not to look annoyed. "Yes..thank you for the reminder Lujayn. I used to work on those, some of them are very very nice ..but as you say, not weavercraft." She takes a gulp of her ale now and turns to look about the hall yet again, only to find herself nudged out of the way. Giving Leova a bit of a dirty look, she shrugs and turns to pay attention to the others. "Niena, you look good in trousers though, you've got the legs for them. And you definitely look wonderful in leathers."
L’vae’s brows go up at Leova’s tale of slippers, his eyes freezing on the other ex-Tillekian. Her approach is watched as he takes a long sip of his cider, but in the end he makes for an obliging enough backrest. Attention turning back towards the other girls, the brown weyrling nods along with Viviana’s estimation of Niena.
"I think I even know exactly where the dresses are," Lujayn says more to herself, looking tired now that her supply of munchies has disappeared. "Slippers look nice enough.." She admits, watching Leova move around with passing interest. Then there's a yawn. "I think I'm going to get some air. Or something." Somewhere quieter, no doubt. It's a bit late and she's bleary. Squeezing carefully past those at the table, Lu starts looking for her jacket amongst all the others and eventually makes her way out.
Leova reaches back to adjust one of his collar toggles where it had started to dig in, then settles back, short enough by comparison that she should be easy to talk over the top of. She yawns around her fist, heavy-lidded gaze alighting on Lujayn even before she speaks or stands. "Lu."
Viviana gives Lujayn a half wave, misses and shrugs. Her own drink is half way gone but she's looking sleepy too and hungry. The few fries left on Lujyan's abandoned plate look tempting but she averts her eyes. "What about you, Lou?" Easier to not notice a hungry belly if one talks and talks. "You looking forward to anything in particular when we finally leave weyrlinghood behind?"
Niena blushes at the appraisal, then finds herself yawning uncontrollably. "You'd think I'd had a drink instead of just water." she says, then adds "I'd better get to the dorms before I fall asleep on my feet.
“Watch out for sailors,” L’vae bids as Lu takes her leave. He watches the gold weyrling make her way out while Leova fusses with his collar. Sliding his eyes back to Viviana, the man gives a little shrug, his smile and eyes bright. “What, besides gather dresses?” he teases in a carefully quiet voice. “Being able to travel anywhere, I suppose,” is answered more truthfully. He lifts his gaze to Niena as she yawns. “Good night,” he wishes her as well, oblivious to the snuck chip.
"Wonder if she knows where to find them if she wants to? Wants to watch out for them, I mean?" Leova asks of the remaining two nearby. Chip? If she notices at all, she's still just smiling, just a little. Off at a side table, there's some shuffling around as the pot's won and a new hand's dealt.
Viviana ponders that thought, idly running a finger over the rim of her glass then sucking the bit of moisture off her finger. " No, I don't think Niena is the looking for seacrafter type of girl. Not at all." She muses more to herself but in answer to L'vae. "This is the furthest I've ever gone in my life and I've been to Tillek twice now. I can't imagine ... blinking out over the reaches then lazing in a bikini off of South Boll a quarter candemark later."
“Not like Tillek isn’t crawling with them,” L’vae notes wryly to Leova’s question, tipping the shoulder she leans on slightly. Viviana’s remarks have him grinning more widely. “You? Can’t imagine?” he teases. “But you just did.” And he even adds a wink for the younger girl. “Is that where you would go first? Sunbathing on Boll’s beaches?”
"Back the other direction, that's furthest for me," Leova offers Viviana in return. "Coming from around here and all." His shoulder tilts: she glances upward, giving L'vae a slightly questioning look along with a, "So true. Reminds me, saw Sven. Jasvie's going to come say hello in the morning." But now she too is looking at Viviana again. Smiling. "Try out all the beaches, maybe, figure out which is best?"
Bremuth senses that Vrianth reflects what the world shows: pale green lights near the water, from boats docked there. Tiny white lights, stars high above.
Viviana pouts at L'vae. "Don't make fun of me." Her lower lip juts out in an honest to goodness genuine pout. "I've been cold all my life it seems. To lay somewhere, that warm and have the sun warm you to the bone? It sounds wonderful. Any beach would do. And Ashmyth -- she wants to see shipfish and see how big the fish really are in the ocean." She quirks a brow, curious. "Jasvie?"
Vrianth senses that Bremuth absorbs the reflection appreciatively. There's a still moment of his sure calm, and then he shares things he experiences. The cyclical roar of the ocean and the softer skitter of its edge upon the sand. The pungent scents of brine and fish.
“Oh?” L’vae’s expression peaks with interest as Leova mentions her Tillekian friends, but it melts back into one of his grins at Viviana’s pout. “You do have a good imagination,” he says warmly. “I think Bremuth might enjoy that, visiting loads of beaches. I don’t know how interested he is in shipfish, though.” And as for Vivy’s question, Lou peaks back down to Leova to let her answer.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth can, taking in what he sends, notice them more on her own. The fish first, stronger when the wind comes to them. Then just the waves, so very different when listened to moment by moment, so very much the same when listened to at length. Drifting.
Leova can't help but admire the degree of Viviana's pout, her own lower lip twitching without going anywhere. She does rouse herself enough to say, "Friend from back here. She and Sven, he's a deckhand here. Going to be married." She wrinkles her nose as though smelling something pungent, glances around, then settles back. "If you want to talk dresses, she's a good one."
Viviana warms under the compliment and the pout disappears for the moment. "Really? Some people think I'm rather dull. Ashmyth is the one who longs for the sea. She's quite disappointed we got her so late but she's wanting to go out to see the sea first thing in the morning." Looking quizzically at Leova's twitch, she brushes at her own lip to see if there are crumbs there. "Oh, how nice. I hope you can *between* in time so you can attend?" Looking up at the pink frillies on the wall, she shrugs."No, I'm quite finished. We've still months to go before I can think about such things as feeling pretty again. But it's nice to have friends you can visit, Leova." Her fingers run through her growing locks. "At least I can grow my hair longer again."
Vrianth senses that Bremuth's warmly serene presence lingers, undemanding. Sharing his appreciation of this place, and of what she notices. The water he has a particular affinity for, his own mind rippling echoes of its ever-changing and yet constant pattern.
L’vae nods encouragingly to Viviana’s ‘really’, brows peaking a moment later at her following phrase. “I do hope we have time in the morning before we have to go. I’d like to visit Mum,” he notes with a smile. His eyes follow Vivana’s down to Leova and then over to That part of the wall. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says optimistically. “It may be awhile before we have time for gathers, but there’s always time to feel pretty?” He looks back, tipping a gaze down to Leova and then back up to Vivy. “Pretty undergarments can even fit under flight leathers, I’d guess,” he hazards with a lopsided smile.
"A wonderful imagination," Leova agrees warmly. "And your braids are adorable, Vivy." Who knew the word was in her vocabulary? "Especially when you go fast and they sort of bounce." With more hesitation, "Hope I can get there, all right. If we're in time. That." She doesn't look at the wall, and it's no accident, watching with smiling eyes for Viviana's reaction to his suggestion.
Viviana giggles, her eyes dancing. "Honestly, L'vae, you are too kind, I mean that. I'll shut up about the pretty things. For a manly young gentleman like yourself, you don't need to be put to that sort of torture." She pats her braids but admits. "I miss my hair, I know you all think I'm a silly little goose but ... it was hard and when things are hard in weyrlinghood, I look at the braid that Persie let me keep. It comforts me in a strange little way." Taking a breath, she lets the insecurity go back where it belongs, well stuffed within. "Maybe we can all see the sun rise tomorrow then you two can toodle off and visit all your friends and family? I don't know what time we are leaving back to the Reaches though. And you /know/ how grumpy I'daur can be after a night of drinking."
Bremuth senses that Vrianth can't help but search out those patterns there, observing, listening. But it's not in her to be an observer for long, so she reaches out with intangible thought to see whether she can... whether the ripples' highs can be a bit, just a very bit higher.
“Even if you have to fly straight - you can probably take the time off?” For the wedding. It’s more of L’vae’s optimism as he reaches his free hand up to touch lightly at Leova’s elbow. Shaking his head to Viviana, he echoes her giggle with a chuckle of his own. “It’s hardly a torture,” he promises. Reminder of her saved braid has his expression softening to something more sympathetic. “Your right, he may very well want to sleep in,” L’vae agrees with a returning grin. “And we’ll at least need to stay for breakfast, before that long flight.”
Vrianth senses that Bremuth's ripples can indeed be higher. He molds to the reach of her thought, allowing it to push his contemplation of the waves deeper. Musing how the water stretches so far, how when each droplet connects so much can be touched. Can be known.
"You know, maybe you're right. If someone could take the time off to take me, anyway." Leova brushes her fingers over his, unspoken thanks for the reassurance, her glance back to Viviana calm. "Do you think you will still keep the braid? After you have grown yours back out that long." It's said as though it's a sure thing that that will happen, that at least that part of Viviana's life will wind up the way she wants it again. Leova adds after a moment, "Persie's really sweet, isn't she. And pretty nice to E'dro, when she notices he exists, and," it sinks in. "Shh, Vivy! Keep your voice down, he'll hear." At least Leova doesn't sit up and look, that being even more obvious than whispering.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth contemplates this too, in her turn, or maybe it's more that she's contemplating his contemplation: what he notices, what's important. But it's also not exactly unpredictable, perhaps just the pattern of things, that after that she must wonder whether the ripples might go a little higher yet. Not so high to break their surface tension, or what passes for surface tension in a world that's dragon, not water... just a little more. Surely Bremuth can manage that.
Viviana chuckles, embarassed. "I'll keep it. Along with a little square I have of material from a dress my mother made me when I was a toddler. I can't help it.." She looks up through her lashes at both, hoping for understanding. "I just .... it's just part of me is all." She nods full on. "At first I didn't trust her at all, no one can be that nice but she really is nice --- poor E'dro. He sort of fades into the background though. Sweet though." She's chatter on more but a trill of an apologetic green reaches her ears. "She needs me." With that simple statement, Vivy rams her arms back into her jacket and heads out the door.
L’vae’s fingers press more surely in response to the brush before they fall away. Back to rest folded knuckles into his thigh. “Poor kid,” the brown weyrling agrees about E’dro. “As if dealing with Hroxeth weren’t enough.” There’s a sympathetically bemused smile on his features. Vivy’s statement has his brows lifting, and then he gives a nod. “See you, Viviana,” he says as she leaves. Finishing off his cider, he reaches the empty mug out to the table and then lets the hand come back to poke Leova in the arm. “Slippers?”
"Then it's good," Leova murmurs. "Nothing wrong with it, so long as bugs don't get in it. I think it's nice." She has to chuckle a little at the description of Persie, but she too nods, and starts to add something before Ashmyth becomes audible. And they all know what that means now, so she waves her on, seeing Viviana safely out the door. And it's still a moment more before L'vae's question brings her back. "What?" She tilts a look up at him, shifts like she's starting to rise.
Vrianth senses that Bremuth perhaps could manage, but he doesn't. Instead the pressure is met with a complete yielding, the multitudinous facets of his thoughts a brief ephemeral cloud before settling again into the smooth wash of tranquil continuity. Sure warmth meets her curiosity.
“And sisal skirts?” L’vae adds, curiosity bright in his eyes and his uneven smile dimpling one cheek. The hand that poked moves away, propping on the edge of the table. “I like hearing you talk of pretty things, Leova.” Not torture at all. His own look is tilted as it returns hers. “Where you most like to go, when we can go anywhere?”
Then perhaps he won't mind a frustrated poke. Then again, he might be disappointed. Or not. So instead of all that, and instead of seeing how far he'll rise, tired Vrianth chooses now to see how far he'll yield. It's a gentle push, gentle for his warmth, but she keeps going. (Vrianth to Bremuth)
Leova slips onto the stool next to him, though she rests her boots on his stool's rail instead of hers, leaning her elbow on the bar. It's gotten late enough that the barkeep doesn't shoo them off for not ordering more, or maybe it's just that as long as there are weyrlings in the bar there's a weyrlingmaster too, and he's making up for it. But Leova's glance beyond L'vae is brief, and then she says, "Fine. Sisal skirts." The admission is all grumpy-sounding, it's just that there's also a smile that tugs at one side of her mouth. "And ribbons. If I had somewhere to put them. Don't you think they would look fine, lacing my boots?" There's more than one reason to be impatient for /between/, and mucking is one of them. "And the best place I can think of right now is... sleep. Ask me again tomorrow, hm?" And with that, she slides back down from the stool she'd so recently claimed, and offers him her arm.
Vrianth senses that Bremuth is anything but brittle, anything but static. Her push is accepted, as perhaps the ocean may accept a fish. Or the sky, a dragon. And the ocean and the sky are in his thoughts. Also there is what she pointed out to him, the splash of pale green light on water, the cooler white pinpricks of stars.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth swims there, and then she forgets whether it is ocean or sky. Just watches the lights as the waves rock them and rock her to sleep. And does not drown.
L’vae’s eyes follow her movements. The curve of his mouth would almost be a smirk if it weren’t so soft. He can’t help but chuckle at her grudging admission. “I think they would look lovely, on your boots,” he answers gallantly. Her non-answer is met by a sigh, but it’s a playful thing. “Don’t think I won’t,” Lou warns cheerfully. He straightens off his stool, slipping his arm into the one she offers. “But for the moment, I think I’ll have to agree with you.” So to the dorms and sleep it shall be.
VR: Day 21, month 12, Turn 15, of the Interval. It is a winter afternoon.
(Original log from L'vae)
The weyrling crew unwinds at the Rusted Hulk after their long, long, long, long flight to Tillek. Some have more marks, or are more willing to spend them, than others.
SeaCraft Hall - The Rusted Hulk
Tilted to one side, this large and comfortable room has been 'evened out' by the addition of a warm wooden floor. Various tall tables with mismatched tall stools are scattered around the room. Glowbaskets line the walls, their subtle lighting casts comfortable shadows throughout the interior of this old vessel. Along the back wall is a small bar with three stools sitting in front of it. Bottles of wine have been placed in deep, dusty cubbieholes behind it. A recent addition to the Hulk and looking somewhat out of place, is an artists portrayal of the Weavercraft Craftmaster, which has been framed, and placed on one wall. The frame itself is the feature however, and not the portrait itself of the attractive Master. Sewn carefully together are a selection of bright pink pieces of underwear, sent my the master herself, and which now cover the frame, giving Katlynn's portrait a rosy glow in the lighting of the Hulk.
It's a long flight straight from the Weyr and over the mountains toward the ocean; by the time the weyrling dragons arrive, the greens and some of the blues are dragging, as is Zunaeth, his wing shaking with the long effort of flying. The Seacraft Hall on Tillek's shores is a welcome sight for pretty much everyone by then, and Zunaeth leads the way in gliding down to the courtyard outside. Then it's passengers off, and I'daur's turn to lead the way, limping as much as his dragon as he heads toward the Rusted Hulk. The bartender inside seems quite familiar with the weyrlingmaster, lifting a hand in greeting, though the trail of weyrlings behind him earn raised brows.
The flight is long and hard on Wroth, mostly due to his smaller nature compared to his fellow browns. Even so, he does not show it in his landing and he glares around at any that might doubt his ability. E'dre has no such care and slides off of his brown with learned grace and follows after the weyrlingmaster. His eyes are appreciative as they enter and he murmurs to the closest weyrling, "This should be fun. Wonder if we'll see a brawl?" Grin.
After one more check of Ashmyth and countless reassurances from the AWLM staff and the dragon herself that she'll be fine in a bit, Viviana reluctantly trails behind a queue of weyrlings, being one of the last. The holder girl's eyes widen as she takes in the whole of the tavern. The pink adorned wall pinkens her own cheeks and Vivy can only "Oh my!" as she looks about.
Up to the bar slides I'daur, dropping into a seat on one of the stools there while the barkeep hauls out a bottle of good whiskey for him without even having to be asked. A glass poured, sip taken, I'daur turns to lean an arm back against the bar while he watches the weyrlings file in, some of them excited, some at home, some nervous. It's one of the latter ones he singles out now, glancing to Viviana. "Never been in one before?" he asks.
E'dre eyes the framed picture closely, the reaction he's giving of appreciation where Viviana is obviously appalled. He moves up to the bar itself, sliding easily into a chair as his arm flops on the bar. "It is a bit of a shock I guess. I hadn't been in this one, but I've seen worse." He shrugs, looking around once more and then back to the barkeep. He turns a hopeful look on the weyrlingmaster. "Might we get a refreshment?"
Viviana shakes her head and her eyes go wide again. "I heard such places existed, but no, sir, never seen anything like this before." She's not nervous, anything but, but it is all new and she can't help but stare. Wise enough not to stare at any inhabitants of the bar, she keeps her attention on the decor. "She must be liked a whole lot. The woman on the wall.." She edges up near the Weyrlingmaster, peering over at the menu.
"Long as you can pay," I'daur remarks, with a lift of his shoulders in answer to E'dre. A jerk of his chin indicated the bartender behind him. "Talk to him. Just try not to get yourself too drunk, or I'll leave you here overnight--might anyway, rest up Wroth." He takes another slow sip of his liquor before twisting his neck enough to glance over the picture Viviana points out, unbothered. "Must be," he agrees. And, "Don't seem much your kinda place--no noble games for noble riders, or whatever it was."
L’vae is keeping his head down, sticking to the middle of the pack of weyrlings as they filter into the Seacraft’s bar. He tilts a hip onto a stool at the table nearest the bar, arms coming to fold loosely in front of him as he finally scans a look about the place. Almost furtively. But afterwards he seems a bit more settled, tension relaxing out of his shoulders as he slides a little more fully onto the stool, one knee bending as a heel is rested on one of the lower rungs. His gaze comes to land with light curiosity on the three of his party near the bar, a hint of a smile lifting at one corner of his mouth.
E'dre lifts his hand to call the barkeep closer and pauses in ordering as I'daur makes his comment. He scowls, "He's not in need of rest, /sir/," he stresses that pronoun and then clears his face. "Ah yes, I'd like a glass of your best white, please." He grins, "I know Tillek's got a decent enough vintage most days." He roots in his pocket for a mark and slides it forward, "Got one on me for that mark there -- Oh, unless you'd like me to buy for ya Viviana?" he asks the girl first and then looks over at L'vae as he settles near. "Or you, I guess, if you want somethin' and don't have mark for it."
Viviana makes a face as she reaches into her pocket, coming up with more lint than marks. With a philosophical shrug, she counts out an eight of a mark. "I couldn't say if it was my type of place as I've never been before, have I?" With that logic, she stands on her tiptoes, using the bar's edge as support as she brightly peers over the menu for anything in her price range. "I have enough for a pint of ale, if that. So I don't have to worry about getting drunk." Peering sideways at L'vae, she smiles saucily. "Hey Seacrafter, can a girl buy you a half a pint?" She sniffs at E'dre's offer and stiffly replies. "I have my own marks, thankyouverymuch"
"Wine," says I'daur, as disdainfully as he can. He just shakes his head and takes another swig of whiskey, then refills it. "Ale," and unlike E'dre, Viviana might have just earned a little of his respect back, as he cocks a brow and glances over the young girl, apparently impressed. "L'vae," he notices that weyrling when Viviana turns to him, though he remarks to E'dre, "Not your night, apparently. Maybe with a better haircut."
L’vae gives a little shake of his head at E’dre’s offer. “I’ve my own marks.” He adds a flash of a smile, sincere. “But thank you.” And then Viviana catches his eye, his gaze sliding over to the girl. There’s a flicker of tightness to his jaw but then his brows arch high in amusement. “You’d share your one pint?” Maybe a little touched, but mostly chuckling. “I’m quite all right, thank you.” His grin stretches wider. I’daur’s notice is returned with a small tip of a nod, though his gaze turns back between E’dre and Viviana at the weyrlingmaster’s comment.
E'dre shrugs his shoulder at Vivy's refusal. "All right, suit yourself. Just trying to be a gentlemen." He looks at L'vae, nods his head, and proceeds to sip his wine while looking around the room at large. His attention focuses on a group playing 'poker in the corner. "Hm and hm."
Viviana shrugs at I'daur's mild kudos. "’Cause it's a lot of ale and I haven't had much since ... before I was a candidate. Wine's ...well, it's for those who got marks at places like this." Glancing E'dre's way with outright dislike, she pauses, passes her marks over for the ale, counting out a sixteenth of a mark for a tip and receives her ale. "Gentlemen aren't born, they are created through experience.." Sniff!
Leova enters right behind Rhonda, wind-ruffled and worn from tiredness that isn't just hers alone, already stripping herself of her jacket as she gets into the warm room and the pair moves to join the others by the bar. Though they're talking, it's low, just the occasional laugh.
I'daur leans back more against the bar, where he sits with E'dre and Viviana and L'vae. Many of other weyrlings are milling about or exploring, while the dragons rest up in the courtyard outside after a long flight. "Wine's for people that think they're somebody, anywhere," he remarks dryly. "'N' don't worry--comes right back to you," is his take on drinking again, to Viviana.
L’vae is a bit bemused as he watches the interchange between E’dre and Viviana. The girl’s later comment has another quiet laugh breathing softly in his chest. Unfolding from his stool, now that the other three have ordered, Lou edges up to the bar. His eyes curiously follow E’dre’s for a moment - lingering on that poker game a moment. “You don’t think it’s just a matter of taste preference?” The weyrling asks of I’daur idly. Vivy’s waving draws his notice to Leova and he gives a greeting nod. Leaning into the bar beside Viviana, L’vae finally orders his own drink - cider.
Leova casts a look for their weyrlingmaster. Finding him, though maybe it's more the voice than visuals, she goes back to talking off to the side until Rhonda catches Viviana's beckon and actually turns the other greenrider around and murmurs something into her ear. Leova shrugs. Takes Rhonda's jacket, why not, and the two part: Rhonda to join the group staring and snickering at the pink-adorned painting, Leova to toss their jackets on the growing pile of outerwear on the way to sliding into the spot right where Viviana wants her. Another look around searches for Moll, but then she says, "Thanks for saving me a spot, Vivy." Even if it's to be the girl's personal shield. "Got anything good yet?"
In answer to L'vae, I'daur just shrugs. "Why you think they prefer it?" he turns the question around, fields it back at the brown weyrling. "Leova," he greets the next to join them, with a nod for her as he settles back.
Viviana smiles again, looking Leova over up and down. "You look simply lovely in a ride for hours on dragonback and mess up your hair sort of way. I feel about the same." She takes another tiny sip, nursing her drink as she glances over Leova's shoulder over to the card players -- then off to one corner where a couple are getting to know each other --over wine. "You know, it's not so decadent and morally horrid as people say." She sounds disappointed.
Lujayn has already scoped out a good table, among the earlier arrivals to the bar. A basket of fish and chips before her along with a tall glass of juice, but the weyrling's attention is focused more on those just entering. Snagging her meal to go in both hands, she moves her way through the crowd to Viviana and Leova. "Chip?" Offered with a smile as she invites herself to sit.
"Sir," Leova says mildly, tired as the faint smile she gives L'vae, the more indulgent one for Viviana. Leaning an elbow on the bar once the shorter greenrider is done looking her over, she says, "Just wait until you get a little more to drink, and start thinking the floor really is... that way." She waves to the way the ship's tilted around them. "What kind of preferences we talking about?"
Leova adds a, "Thanks. Smart going, getting the food early, Lu."
L’vae exchanges marks for cider and takes a step back from the bar, reaching out with a hooked foot for that stool he’d been sitting on previously. A shrug is given to I’daur. “It’s not as filling? Higher alcohol content?” The weyrling takes a drink of his cider as he leans a hip on the stool again. His eyes look back to the girls, crinkling in a smile as Lujayn arrives, too. The expression is brief, though there’s still a smile on his lips as his mug lowers to answer Leova’s question. “Alcohol… wine. If it’s a sign of pretension.”
Viviana shakes her head in thanks to Lujayn's offer. "No thank you, this ale will fill me up enough. I had a meatroll as we flew. And I definitely am /not/ going to drink that much Leova. Even if I could, I don't have that sort of marks." She smirks at L'vae's assessment. "More like it's cheaper and therefore you can drink more of it. I wouldn't say pretension, L'vae.." She ponders over the topic as she sips. "More like -- umm, some people enjoy wine and it's their hobby. Other people use it as way to show off their knowledge, then it's pretentious."
Lujayn shrugs, keeping her mouth full and ears open. "Or if they drink it to look fancy," She tacks onto Viviana's statement. "But I'd hate to fly drunk. Juice is fine for me." Then there's more fish. She's doing fine polishing off the basket even without anyone's help. "Could you imagine how disorienting that would be?"
Tired or not, Leova has to chuckle back at Viviana. "What? Not going for the cheap stuff? Anyway, wine tastes better watered than the others. Sort of like juice, when you don't have to worry about whether the fruit's gone bad. Like here, maybe." She gives Lujayn a sidelong smile, reaching over to try and nab a bit of her fish too, but the move's slow on purpose and easy to stop.
Viviana shakes her head, stubbornly. "Ale's cheap and I won't drink to excess. I don't have the ..." She sighs, leaving her mantra of no marks to herself. Turning so she can lean against bar and look about the bar, she can't keep her eyes off the pink wall. "I've never seen that much underwear displayed in an artistic way before. You'd feel like a girl in those, huh Lu?"
Eyes widen innocently as Viviana takes issue with his word, L’vae’s free hand gesturing towards I’daur. Pinning credit for the concept onto the weyrlingmaster. Lujayn’s comment on flying drunk has an indulgently thoughtful look twisting on his features, gaze turning up. He gives a slow shake of his head. “Can’t imagine,” he says in quiet aside, eyes flicking back to I’daur. Maybe it’s because his attention’s away that he misunderstands Vivy. “Pardon?” the word is said with short befuddlement as Lou snaps a look back to Viviana, blinking.
"Go 'head," Lujayn gestures to the plate and pushes it a bit more towards the center of the table, happy to share. She blinks at Viviana, hard-put to figure out how to take that particular comment. "I already feel like a girl," Lu decides to reply easily, but coughs out a laugh (along with some juice) when L'vae turns. "Yeah, Louie. I think you'd look cute in those." She teases. Are we sure that's only juice in her glass?
Leova gives Lujayn a toast from her invisible glass as thanks, and idly munches, nibbling off the breading before working on the bit of fish itself. It's not so preoccupying that she can't look past Vivy, eyes narrowed on the show. "That would be a sight," she agrees. "Question is, how many of the pink things would it take?"
Viviana giggles, moving to elbow him lightly. "Silly thing. I am talking about girls feeling like girls, you are definitely all boy the way you are all angles and such on that stool. Girl's never sit that way, even if they are boyish. No, no matter how pink, you'd never be able to pull it off, I agree with Leova" Her gaze goes up once again to the wall. "You know what I mean, Lujayn. We've been in these stinky clothes and such for over a turn. It'd be nice to be ... seen as a girl again. Well, not that I am saying anyone is going to see me in my scivvies any time soon but wearing them.... even if you are the only one who knows what you are wearing...." She sighs,. "You feel like a girl."
Niena has apparently decided to sit this one out, and instead nurses a glass of nice, free water. She is watching the others, though, and almost smiling.
Leova protests mildly, "I've washed!"
“Shh, you girls are going to get me into trouble,” L’vae says with his down-ward palm stretched towards them. There’s a smile at one corner of his mouth, and his voice is mostly light, but there’s an edge of actual worry as he peeks a gaze out towards the more regular denizens of the bar. Color is hot in his ears. Vivana’s words, however, seem to mostly mollify him. They don’t do much for the flush, though. “Thank you,” he says with a tip of his head and returns to his cider as the girls go on about being girly.
Lujayn nods to Viviana. "Thinking about wearing dresses as soon as you graduate?" Her eyes roam across faces, finally turning from the pink display and settling on Niena. "What about you?" She raises her voice a bit, trying to catch the bluerider's eye. "Think those would do any good if no one could see 'em?"
Viviana pffts as she takes another sip. She still has at least three quarters of her pint to drink. "You were the one who mentioned getting dressed up in pink underwear, not me. I wasn't talking about you -- but..." She teases. "I could sew you something very nice?" Eyeing Niena's safe drink, the greenriding weyrling shakes her head. "You could have risked a .... strong klah or something, you know." Leova and Lujayn are met with a smirk and a chuckle. "You know what I meant. I just want to feel ...like me again. Trousers for duty but oh, I long for just one good swish of a sisal skirt against my legs."
Leova's gaze lingers on L'vae, then glances past before she turns back to the other weyrlings, licking the last of the fish oils off her fingers. "Sisal," she says a little wistfully. "Nothing like it. Though the way it just won't stop rustling sometimes? Don't know if I could still take that. And the shoes."
Niena smiles. "I think I could go without dresses again, though maybe once I've forgotten the brown one I always wore before being searched, I'll feel differently. A gather gown, on the other hand... that would be nice.
L’vae eyes Viviana warily, a cautious edge to his smile. “I don’t need anything quite like that, thank you.” He listens with amused interest to the talk of sisal skirts, an inquiring “Shoes?” even posed after Leova’s comments. But his attention shift to Niena, interested in what her answer to Lujayn’s question will be. It brings a soft smile to the man’s lips, but maybe he seems a bit disappointed as the not-seen issue is left unaddressed. His gaze drops back to his cider, grin quirking a bit more.
"They have things like that in stores," Tipping back the rest of her juice and reaching for a lingering bit of fish, Lujayn nods. "Dresses, skirts, clothing of all sizes for anyone who needs it. Not that they're the fanciest," A tilt of the head, nearly apologetic. "But if you really can't stand breeches any more, they're all waiting." L'vae's query gets a little thought. "I don't know about shoes. Boots have always worked well for me. No reason to change a good thing, I guess."
Gather dresses. That's Leova hitting her limit. Not that it shows at first, not until she starts talking. "Not proper leather shoes. Slippers, really. The sort that gets dirty in two seconds flat, you wear them outside, so you wear your normal shoes with your dress until you get there and change and," then she finally catches up with what she's saying. Stops. Shakes her head just a little, and murmurs softly to Viviana before swapping places with her fellow greenrider, adding a few words to L'vae before leaning back against the taller weyrling.
Niena makes a face at the mention of slippers. "Not those, though."
Viviana tries her best not to look annoyed. "Yes..thank you for the reminder Lujayn. I used to work on those, some of them are very very nice ..but as you say, not weavercraft." She takes a gulp of her ale now and turns to look about the hall yet again, only to find herself nudged out of the way. Giving Leova a bit of a dirty look, she shrugs and turns to pay attention to the others. "Niena, you look good in trousers though, you've got the legs for them. And you definitely look wonderful in leathers."
L’vae’s brows go up at Leova’s tale of slippers, his eyes freezing on the other ex-Tillekian. Her approach is watched as he takes a long sip of his cider, but in the end he makes for an obliging enough backrest. Attention turning back towards the other girls, the brown weyrling nods along with Viviana’s estimation of Niena.
"I think I even know exactly where the dresses are," Lujayn says more to herself, looking tired now that her supply of munchies has disappeared. "Slippers look nice enough.." She admits, watching Leova move around with passing interest. Then there's a yawn. "I think I'm going to get some air. Or something." Somewhere quieter, no doubt. It's a bit late and she's bleary. Squeezing carefully past those at the table, Lu starts looking for her jacket amongst all the others and eventually makes her way out.
Leova reaches back to adjust one of his collar toggles where it had started to dig in, then settles back, short enough by comparison that she should be easy to talk over the top of. She yawns around her fist, heavy-lidded gaze alighting on Lujayn even before she speaks or stands. "Lu."
Viviana gives Lujayn a half wave, misses and shrugs. Her own drink is half way gone but she's looking sleepy too and hungry. The few fries left on Lujyan's abandoned plate look tempting but she averts her eyes. "What about you, Lou?" Easier to not notice a hungry belly if one talks and talks. "You looking forward to anything in particular when we finally leave weyrlinghood behind?"
Niena blushes at the appraisal, then finds herself yawning uncontrollably. "You'd think I'd had a drink instead of just water." she says, then adds "I'd better get to the dorms before I fall asleep on my feet.
“Watch out for sailors,” L’vae bids as Lu takes her leave. He watches the gold weyrling make her way out while Leova fusses with his collar. Sliding his eyes back to Viviana, the man gives a little shrug, his smile and eyes bright. “What, besides gather dresses?” he teases in a carefully quiet voice. “Being able to travel anywhere, I suppose,” is answered more truthfully. He lifts his gaze to Niena as she yawns. “Good night,” he wishes her as well, oblivious to the snuck chip.
"Wonder if she knows where to find them if she wants to? Wants to watch out for them, I mean?" Leova asks of the remaining two nearby. Chip? If she notices at all, she's still just smiling, just a little. Off at a side table, there's some shuffling around as the pot's won and a new hand's dealt.
Viviana ponders that thought, idly running a finger over the rim of her glass then sucking the bit of moisture off her finger. " No, I don't think Niena is the looking for seacrafter type of girl. Not at all." She muses more to herself but in answer to L'vae. "This is the furthest I've ever gone in my life and I've been to Tillek twice now. I can't imagine ... blinking out over the reaches then lazing in a bikini off of South Boll a quarter candemark later."
“Not like Tillek isn’t crawling with them,” L’vae notes wryly to Leova’s question, tipping the shoulder she leans on slightly. Viviana’s remarks have him grinning more widely. “You? Can’t imagine?” he teases. “But you just did.” And he even adds a wink for the younger girl. “Is that where you would go first? Sunbathing on Boll’s beaches?”
"Back the other direction, that's furthest for me," Leova offers Viviana in return. "Coming from around here and all." His shoulder tilts: she glances upward, giving L'vae a slightly questioning look along with a, "So true. Reminds me, saw Sven. Jasvie's going to come say hello in the morning." But now she too is looking at Viviana again. Smiling. "Try out all the beaches, maybe, figure out which is best?"
Bremuth senses that Vrianth reflects what the world shows: pale green lights near the water, from boats docked there. Tiny white lights, stars high above.
Viviana pouts at L'vae. "Don't make fun of me." Her lower lip juts out in an honest to goodness genuine pout. "I've been cold all my life it seems. To lay somewhere, that warm and have the sun warm you to the bone? It sounds wonderful. Any beach would do. And Ashmyth -- she wants to see shipfish and see how big the fish really are in the ocean." She quirks a brow, curious. "Jasvie?"
Vrianth senses that Bremuth absorbs the reflection appreciatively. There's a still moment of his sure calm, and then he shares things he experiences. The cyclical roar of the ocean and the softer skitter of its edge upon the sand. The pungent scents of brine and fish.
“Oh?” L’vae’s expression peaks with interest as Leova mentions her Tillekian friends, but it melts back into one of his grins at Viviana’s pout. “You do have a good imagination,” he says warmly. “I think Bremuth might enjoy that, visiting loads of beaches. I don’t know how interested he is in shipfish, though.” And as for Vivy’s question, Lou peaks back down to Leova to let her answer.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth can, taking in what he sends, notice them more on her own. The fish first, stronger when the wind comes to them. Then just the waves, so very different when listened to moment by moment, so very much the same when listened to at length. Drifting.
Leova can't help but admire the degree of Viviana's pout, her own lower lip twitching without going anywhere. She does rouse herself enough to say, "Friend from back here. She and Sven, he's a deckhand here. Going to be married." She wrinkles her nose as though smelling something pungent, glances around, then settles back. "If you want to talk dresses, she's a good one."
Viviana warms under the compliment and the pout disappears for the moment. "Really? Some people think I'm rather dull. Ashmyth is the one who longs for the sea. She's quite disappointed we got her so late but she's wanting to go out to see the sea first thing in the morning." Looking quizzically at Leova's twitch, she brushes at her own lip to see if there are crumbs there. "Oh, how nice. I hope you can *between* in time so you can attend?" Looking up at the pink frillies on the wall, she shrugs."No, I'm quite finished. We've still months to go before I can think about such things as feeling pretty again. But it's nice to have friends you can visit, Leova." Her fingers run through her growing locks. "At least I can grow my hair longer again."
Vrianth senses that Bremuth's warmly serene presence lingers, undemanding. Sharing his appreciation of this place, and of what she notices. The water he has a particular affinity for, his own mind rippling echoes of its ever-changing and yet constant pattern.
L’vae nods encouragingly to Viviana’s ‘really’, brows peaking a moment later at her following phrase. “I do hope we have time in the morning before we have to go. I’d like to visit Mum,” he notes with a smile. His eyes follow Vivana’s down to Leova and then over to That part of the wall. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says optimistically. “It may be awhile before we have time for gathers, but there’s always time to feel pretty?” He looks back, tipping a gaze down to Leova and then back up to Vivy. “Pretty undergarments can even fit under flight leathers, I’d guess,” he hazards with a lopsided smile.
"A wonderful imagination," Leova agrees warmly. "And your braids are adorable, Vivy." Who knew the word was in her vocabulary? "Especially when you go fast and they sort of bounce." With more hesitation, "Hope I can get there, all right. If we're in time. That." She doesn't look at the wall, and it's no accident, watching with smiling eyes for Viviana's reaction to his suggestion.
Viviana giggles, her eyes dancing. "Honestly, L'vae, you are too kind, I mean that. I'll shut up about the pretty things. For a manly young gentleman like yourself, you don't need to be put to that sort of torture." She pats her braids but admits. "I miss my hair, I know you all think I'm a silly little goose but ... it was hard and when things are hard in weyrlinghood, I look at the braid that Persie let me keep. It comforts me in a strange little way." Taking a breath, she lets the insecurity go back where it belongs, well stuffed within. "Maybe we can all see the sun rise tomorrow then you two can toodle off and visit all your friends and family? I don't know what time we are leaving back to the Reaches though. And you /know/ how grumpy I'daur can be after a night of drinking."
Bremuth senses that Vrianth can't help but search out those patterns there, observing, listening. But it's not in her to be an observer for long, so she reaches out with intangible thought to see whether she can... whether the ripples' highs can be a bit, just a very bit higher.
“Even if you have to fly straight - you can probably take the time off?” For the wedding. It’s more of L’vae’s optimism as he reaches his free hand up to touch lightly at Leova’s elbow. Shaking his head to Viviana, he echoes her giggle with a chuckle of his own. “It’s hardly a torture,” he promises. Reminder of her saved braid has his expression softening to something more sympathetic. “Your right, he may very well want to sleep in,” L’vae agrees with a returning grin. “And we’ll at least need to stay for breakfast, before that long flight.”
Vrianth senses that Bremuth's ripples can indeed be higher. He molds to the reach of her thought, allowing it to push his contemplation of the waves deeper. Musing how the water stretches so far, how when each droplet connects so much can be touched. Can be known.
"You know, maybe you're right. If someone could take the time off to take me, anyway." Leova brushes her fingers over his, unspoken thanks for the reassurance, her glance back to Viviana calm. "Do you think you will still keep the braid? After you have grown yours back out that long." It's said as though it's a sure thing that that will happen, that at least that part of Viviana's life will wind up the way she wants it again. Leova adds after a moment, "Persie's really sweet, isn't she. And pretty nice to E'dro, when she notices he exists, and," it sinks in. "Shh, Vivy! Keep your voice down, he'll hear." At least Leova doesn't sit up and look, that being even more obvious than whispering.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth contemplates this too, in her turn, or maybe it's more that she's contemplating his contemplation: what he notices, what's important. But it's also not exactly unpredictable, perhaps just the pattern of things, that after that she must wonder whether the ripples might go a little higher yet. Not so high to break their surface tension, or what passes for surface tension in a world that's dragon, not water... just a little more. Surely Bremuth can manage that.
Viviana chuckles, embarassed. "I'll keep it. Along with a little square I have of material from a dress my mother made me when I was a toddler. I can't help it.." She looks up through her lashes at both, hoping for understanding. "I just .... it's just part of me is all." She nods full on. "At first I didn't trust her at all, no one can be that nice but she really is nice --- poor E'dro. He sort of fades into the background though. Sweet though." She's chatter on more but a trill of an apologetic green reaches her ears. "She needs me." With that simple statement, Vivy rams her arms back into her jacket and heads out the door.
L’vae’s fingers press more surely in response to the brush before they fall away. Back to rest folded knuckles into his thigh. “Poor kid,” the brown weyrling agrees about E’dro. “As if dealing with Hroxeth weren’t enough.” There’s a sympathetically bemused smile on his features. Vivy’s statement has his brows lifting, and then he gives a nod. “See you, Viviana,” he says as she leaves. Finishing off his cider, he reaches the empty mug out to the table and then lets the hand come back to poke Leova in the arm. “Slippers?”
"Then it's good," Leova murmurs. "Nothing wrong with it, so long as bugs don't get in it. I think it's nice." She has to chuckle a little at the description of Persie, but she too nods, and starts to add something before Ashmyth becomes audible. And they all know what that means now, so she waves her on, seeing Viviana safely out the door. And it's still a moment more before L'vae's question brings her back. "What?" She tilts a look up at him, shifts like she's starting to rise.
Vrianth senses that Bremuth perhaps could manage, but he doesn't. Instead the pressure is met with a complete yielding, the multitudinous facets of his thoughts a brief ephemeral cloud before settling again into the smooth wash of tranquil continuity. Sure warmth meets her curiosity.
“And sisal skirts?” L’vae adds, curiosity bright in his eyes and his uneven smile dimpling one cheek. The hand that poked moves away, propping on the edge of the table. “I like hearing you talk of pretty things, Leova.” Not torture at all. His own look is tilted as it returns hers. “Where you most like to go, when we can go anywhere?”
Then perhaps he won't mind a frustrated poke. Then again, he might be disappointed. Or not. So instead of all that, and instead of seeing how far he'll rise, tired Vrianth chooses now to see how far he'll yield. It's a gentle push, gentle for his warmth, but she keeps going. (Vrianth to Bremuth)
Leova slips onto the stool next to him, though she rests her boots on his stool's rail instead of hers, leaning her elbow on the bar. It's gotten late enough that the barkeep doesn't shoo them off for not ordering more, or maybe it's just that as long as there are weyrlings in the bar there's a weyrlingmaster too, and he's making up for it. But Leova's glance beyond L'vae is brief, and then she says, "Fine. Sisal skirts." The admission is all grumpy-sounding, it's just that there's also a smile that tugs at one side of her mouth. "And ribbons. If I had somewhere to put them. Don't you think they would look fine, lacing my boots?" There's more than one reason to be impatient for /between/, and mucking is one of them. "And the best place I can think of right now is... sleep. Ask me again tomorrow, hm?" And with that, she slides back down from the stool she'd so recently claimed, and offers him her arm.
Vrianth senses that Bremuth is anything but brittle, anything but static. Her push is accepted, as perhaps the ocean may accept a fish. Or the sky, a dragon. And the ocean and the sky are in his thoughts. Also there is what she pointed out to him, the splash of pale green light on water, the cooler white pinpricks of stars.
Bremuth senses that Vrianth swims there, and then she forgets whether it is ocean or sky. Just watches the lights as the waves rock them and rock her to sleep. And does not drown.
L’vae’s eyes follow her movements. The curve of his mouth would almost be a smirk if it weren’t so soft. He can’t help but chuckle at her grudging admission. “I think they would look lovely, on your boots,” he answers gallantly. Her non-answer is met by a sigh, but it’s a playful thing. “Don’t think I won’t,” Lou warns cheerfully. He straightens off his stool, slipping his arm into the one she offers. “But for the moment, I think I’ll have to agree with you.” So to the dorms and sleep it shall be.