Log: Return of the Chair
RL: May 24, 2008.
VR: Day 31, month 6, Turn 16 of the Interval. It is a summer afternoon.
Leova moves a chair into the guest weyr. Milani remakes the bed.
Guest Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
The ledge at the front of the guest weyr commands an imposing view over the bowl to the north. A flight of stone steps links the ledge to the floor of the bowl. The ledge catches the evening light.
The weyr is lit by a few glows, and whatever daylight enters from the opening to the ledge. You can make out a couch, big enough for most dragons to rest comfortably on, and next to it an alcove containing a cot and press for the accompanying rider. Although this weyr is not permanently occupied, it is kept tidy by the women of the lower caverns, and a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit bear witness to its constant state of ready welcoming.
Afternoon heat warms the Bowl, the still air trapping it between stone walls, and from the ground there's no trace of the cloud front moving in. This could last forever. At least in the caverns it's somewhat cooler, and in one of those caverns, unoccupied since the previous evening, there's a woman with one knee on the chair that she'd just brought back in. Her arms are crossed on the chair's back. Her eyes are lifted, looking out from the shadow towards the mouth of the cave. Towards the light.
Milani comes in carrying a stack of fresh linens and comes to a halt as she spies Leova there. "Oh ... heya. What're you doing in here?" The assistant headwoman eyes Leova curiously and moves towards the press to set her armload down. "It's a nice view from the ledge isn't it?"
Hard to tell who it is at first, backlit as she is, but that height and that hair make it easier a few steps later, and then that voice is unmistakable. The greenrider says, "Not so bad." Then, "Anyone fall off those steps much? Or the ledge." Her eyes track Milani until she gets past her, but then she's drawn back out again.
Milani gives the bare cot mattress a poke and nods. "Oh good, they did air it out." Then she's unfolding the undersheet and spreading it wide over that mattress and briskly tucking the corners under. "Not in recent memory though I can't speak for what might happen if someone gets drunk and isn't paying attention," the assistant headwoman points out. Corner one complete and she moves on to the second, drawing fabric taut across the mattress and smoothin out wrinkles.
"Should have a handrail." The crisp snap of sun-dried cloth might as well not be there. Same with the rustle of mattress. Leova slides her boot forward so she can tip the chair onto its back legs, rock it lightly back and forth. "Not the ledge, though. Dragons landing and all. You'd think, with as much as people put away around here, there would be accidents more often."
Milani moves around the cot and pulls the sheet diagonally tight, folds and tucks again, looks up and over at chair-tipping Leova. "I'll make a note of it, run it by Hayda. Probably a good idea to keep the flight-addled from breaking their necks," she muses and walks around the cot again to get that last corner, smoothing the whole surface down with one hand. As she finishes she straightens up and regards the greenrider for a moment. "Do you think Vrianth's going up soon?"
"Unless they just tip over the rail," Leova supposes, still tipping the chair. Back, forth. Back, forth. Gauging how far she can tip before it all comes crashing down. This while the sunlight from the entrance catches and shines on the occasional dust mote, spiraling lazily down from the stone ceiling. "If a neck hasn't broken yet. Well. Thought it would be the other day, actually. Then yesterday. No such luck."
"If you make it high enough that's not a problem, is it?" Milani grins and moves to catch up the top sheet, shakes it out, disturbing the dust motes with the wind created by the motion. The whisper of linen on linen sounds and she moves to line up the hemmed top with the head of the cot. That done, there's more smoothing by nimble fingers and palms. Leova's answer draws her azure gaze upward again and the assistant headwoman nods. "Is she hard to live with, proddy? Some of them are. My mother, she just gets anal about cleaning."
Leova's attention is caught by the golden, glittery dust, and she watches the air currents they make visible. "There's that. Cattle chute." But she laughs, low, making it lighter. "Not so hard. Not so far. And no cleaning for me yet. She likes it when I sing to her, but then she always does. She's just... focused." Tip, tip. "When she's not asleep."
Milani straightens a kink in the sheet, moves down to make a neat military corner at the foot of the cot, gets that side set and goes over to finish off the other. That done, it's time for the blanket, seasonally light and airy, actually a nice looking article, multi-colored strands bright as they catch sunbeams and set yet more currents aswirl in the quiet of the weyr. "Cattle chute. Ha." That amuses Milani and she tugs the blanket this way and that to even it out. "Focused. Hmm. That doesn't sound so bad."
"It isn't." Tip, tip, tip, shallower now. The blanket wafts the air higher, sends a breeze riding up the back of the greenrider's neck. She doesn't look back. "Just, the waiting is all. Tell them to leave the chair in here, will you?" It's not a particularly heavy chair, doesn't have padding, may or may not be comfortable. But it's sturdy.
The blanket doesn't get tucked in, but the sheet does get folded over prettily across the top of it and then Milani's fishing pillows out of the press and slipping them into cases to plump up at the cot's head. "There. Since she's going up soon, guess I can say, all ready for you." There's a wry twist to her smile as she comes over and flops down on the floor near Leova's feet, leaning her weight back on her hands and regards the rider thoughtfully. "Waiting for just about anything kind of sucks. Being stuck between things. You know." She takes a deep breath, lets it out and tilts her head back a little into a sunbeam, the light casting contrasts of shadow and brightness across her face. "Sure. I don't know why a couple of them don't get left. There's always a few brought in by someone for every flight."
"How about you don't," says Leova with some wryness of her own. She looks down as Milani sits. The tipping slows. But what she's looking to do is reach out with one hand above the younger woman's head, seeing whether the breeze it makes as it tips by is enough to shift any of those strawberry-blonde strands. "Yeah. Least it isn't candidacy, hm? Or waiting for a letter from Ista, let's say. Back before you were over it. Of course." Tip, tip. "Who brings them?"
"Sorry, that wasn't a very good joke, and probably not the kind of teasing you're up for right now," Milani apologizes honestly. She looks up as Leova's hand skirts past the top of her head and a loose strand or two of her hair slip through fingers and fall back into place. "I wouldn't know about Candidacy, actually. I've never Stood. I know I can ask if I really wanted to, but I've never felt the urge and no dragon's ever looked at me sideways." Her smile reappears, bright. "I still like getting letters from Ista. I don't think 'over it' is really the right words." Her brows furrow for a second then smooth out. "Oh whomever's on message duty."
"S'all right. If she were awake, would be easier." Leova laughs under her breath as Milani's head lifts toward the breeze she created, fingers dancing away before more than those couple of strands can catch them. "Up on the Star Stones, you know? Wonder how special it would feel, just being able to ask. Seeing the hatchings since you were little. Used to it. All of that." Tip, tip, and now she's resting her arms on the chair's back again. "Not over it. All right. Meant who brings the chairs, not the letters, though. Not that far gone!"
"Waiting is easier when she's awake? Because you can talk to her?" Milani asks this curiously: clearly she doesn't have the answers here. "So you'd sit up there, on the Stones? Is that it?" Her knees draw up to her chest and she leans forward, pillowing her chin there. The sunlight shifts, reflecting off the top of her head, face cast into full shadow. "It just seems normal to me. Not really all that special, just the way things are. Might be more special to be Searched. I don't know." Shrug. "Okay with it?" she offers a counter suggestion, then laughs. "The riders do."
"But which riders?" Leova finally lets the chair come to all four legs again, half-sitting in it and pulling up her own, the soft skirt almost hiding the tops of her workaday boots. Tracing back to Milani's actual questions, "She's up on the 'Stones. Got a lot of whittling done up there... Couldn't help but think it would have made good copying time, for those notes we used to have to take." One boot slides down, and she tips the chair again, a shallower arc now. "Just. Clearer when she's awake. Makes me happy."
"Honestly, I don't know. Probably the chasing ones. Though my mother apparently sets the whole place up when Sionath goes up. I -- well I've never really hung around to find out, Leova. I just know that there's usually some missing right before or during a flight, usually from the living cavern and we clear them back out afterwards." A rounded oh of understanding shapes Milani's mouth and she nods. "Yeah. It's a /really/ nice view up there too. Especially in the summer." The last she only smiles for, nods, accepting it. "That sounds like better than not so bad, really. Happy."
"Sets the whole place up," Leova repeats, poised just at the tipping point to look up and around. And then she shakes her head, and the chair goes back. It stays there for a little while. "She has this way of making me happy, sometimes, even when I know I probably shouldn't be. Funny how that works... Listen, Milani? I'm not saying, stick around. But if you don't mind keeping an eye on things until you think it's right for you to leave, or we get in here. Whichever comes first." And after, they'll be on their own.
"Yeah. Decorates. Brings food. She -- well you know. Proddy makes people a little loopy in the head." One of Milani's fingers circles just shy of her temple in the universal sign for 'crazy'. "It's nice she makes you happy like that though. That's really sweet. Vrianth's one cool green," the girl compliments and then blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. "Um. Say what?"
"Food." This time the corner of Leova's mouth actually curls. "Could be worse, she could be..." and then Milani's reaction to the rest sinks in. "What did I say? Meant, just. Seen other people, before, keeping an eye on the addled types until they get shooed into here, making sure they don't do nothing stupid. Before here. Not here. Just before."
"Yeah. Fruit baskets. That kind of thing. Cake one time." Milani wrinkles up her nose and shrugs. "Yeah. She could be violent or slutty and she isn't. THough really I just can't see my mother being either of those, even proddy." She nods a couple of times. "Oh oh ... okay. Just trying to sort out what you meant. Because, really, I don't want to be in here or around a bunch of horny, sweaty riders all trying to paw at me. That is /not/ my idea of a good time. And ... might be better to have a nice big, brawny guy. Male greenrider maybe, to do that, not me. I'm ... scrawny." She holds one arm out for proof.
Leova can go with the humor, enough to mime grabbing a fruit. Aiming. Throwing. Overhand. But then, easing the chair down, steadily eyeing the redhead, "No. Wouldn't put you in that sort of bind, Milani. Know who I could ask, keep an eye on things that way. Just thought, you're somebody who knows me." Knows her better. Better than he would. "Don't be worrying about it. We'll handle things."
"I can though. Before you guys get in here," Milani says after a second and she meets that amber gaze directly. "Don't want anyone grabbing you either, I'm just no good in a fight. I'll bring a broom though. That ought to sort things. Sweep off anyone that gets fresh with you before it's time?" Brows lift and then she nods. "Backup might be good though. If you're worried." She takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I ... don't envy greenriders. Giving up control when your dragon's chasing, seems bad enough. This ..." she gestures around and looks back up at her friend, sympathetically, "it must take a lot of getting used to."
"That broom idea. /Like/ that." Leova doesn't pat her chair, but she does give it a slight nudge that's more of a shudder than an actual tip as she keeps Millie's gaze. "Funny." Then it really is more of a tip, back, forth, and she's looking out toward the light. "Not going to worry. That's the plan. You get out of it what you put in. Not going to worry. Try not to worry, anyway." And then her expression lights up, nothing overt but a sum of its parts. Someone's awake.
"Heh. Yeah, I'll whack them upside the head, how's that?" Chipper Milani and she beams a grin up at Leova and nods. "That doesn't sound like a bad plan either. My mother says, to just roll with it, only way to go. So there you go. Wisdom from an older greenrider?" She shrugs and then pushes up to her feet and stretches arms over head, tilts another look over at the bed and moves to flip the press closed since she forgot after she took the pillows out. "I should get back. There's some stuff I have to organize in Stores. This was kind of a mini-break. Had to be done and I volunteered jut to get out of the bustle for a little bit."
"Not going to look at that phrase too close," Leova teases, turning back, that spark still in her eyes. Her smile. "And glad you did, Millie. Sometimes things just work out, hm?" And though she's quick to go meet her landing dragon, she's also careful to set her chair in the shadows. Not too far from the way in. Or the way out.
Laughter. Bright. Milani's head tipped back for the teasing. "Yeah well, still. I hope it goes ... well." The corners of her mouth turn wry at that little pause the word choice and she nods. "Yeah. Sometimes they do." She smoothes her skirts down a little, lets Leova walk ahead of her, casts a last look back around the guest weyr, pensive briefly, maybe on her friend's behalf, then she walks back out into the light, humming a little ditty softly under her breath.
VR: Day 31, month 6, Turn 16 of the Interval. It is a summer afternoon.
Leova moves a chair into the guest weyr. Milani remakes the bed.
Guest Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
The ledge at the front of the guest weyr commands an imposing view over the bowl to the north. A flight of stone steps links the ledge to the floor of the bowl. The ledge catches the evening light.
The weyr is lit by a few glows, and whatever daylight enters from the opening to the ledge. You can make out a couch, big enough for most dragons to rest comfortably on, and next to it an alcove containing a cot and press for the accompanying rider. Although this weyr is not permanently occupied, it is kept tidy by the women of the lower caverns, and a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit bear witness to its constant state of ready welcoming.
Afternoon heat warms the Bowl, the still air trapping it between stone walls, and from the ground there's no trace of the cloud front moving in. This could last forever. At least in the caverns it's somewhat cooler, and in one of those caverns, unoccupied since the previous evening, there's a woman with one knee on the chair that she'd just brought back in. Her arms are crossed on the chair's back. Her eyes are lifted, looking out from the shadow towards the mouth of the cave. Towards the light.
Milani comes in carrying a stack of fresh linens and comes to a halt as she spies Leova there. "Oh ... heya. What're you doing in here?" The assistant headwoman eyes Leova curiously and moves towards the press to set her armload down. "It's a nice view from the ledge isn't it?"
Hard to tell who it is at first, backlit as she is, but that height and that hair make it easier a few steps later, and then that voice is unmistakable. The greenrider says, "Not so bad." Then, "Anyone fall off those steps much? Or the ledge." Her eyes track Milani until she gets past her, but then she's drawn back out again.
Milani gives the bare cot mattress a poke and nods. "Oh good, they did air it out." Then she's unfolding the undersheet and spreading it wide over that mattress and briskly tucking the corners under. "Not in recent memory though I can't speak for what might happen if someone gets drunk and isn't paying attention," the assistant headwoman points out. Corner one complete and she moves on to the second, drawing fabric taut across the mattress and smoothin out wrinkles.
"Should have a handrail." The crisp snap of sun-dried cloth might as well not be there. Same with the rustle of mattress. Leova slides her boot forward so she can tip the chair onto its back legs, rock it lightly back and forth. "Not the ledge, though. Dragons landing and all. You'd think, with as much as people put away around here, there would be accidents more often."
Milani moves around the cot and pulls the sheet diagonally tight, folds and tucks again, looks up and over at chair-tipping Leova. "I'll make a note of it, run it by Hayda. Probably a good idea to keep the flight-addled from breaking their necks," she muses and walks around the cot again to get that last corner, smoothing the whole surface down with one hand. As she finishes she straightens up and regards the greenrider for a moment. "Do you think Vrianth's going up soon?"
"Unless they just tip over the rail," Leova supposes, still tipping the chair. Back, forth. Back, forth. Gauging how far she can tip before it all comes crashing down. This while the sunlight from the entrance catches and shines on the occasional dust mote, spiraling lazily down from the stone ceiling. "If a neck hasn't broken yet. Well. Thought it would be the other day, actually. Then yesterday. No such luck."
"If you make it high enough that's not a problem, is it?" Milani grins and moves to catch up the top sheet, shakes it out, disturbing the dust motes with the wind created by the motion. The whisper of linen on linen sounds and she moves to line up the hemmed top with the head of the cot. That done, there's more smoothing by nimble fingers and palms. Leova's answer draws her azure gaze upward again and the assistant headwoman nods. "Is she hard to live with, proddy? Some of them are. My mother, she just gets anal about cleaning."
Leova's attention is caught by the golden, glittery dust, and she watches the air currents they make visible. "There's that. Cattle chute." But she laughs, low, making it lighter. "Not so hard. Not so far. And no cleaning for me yet. She likes it when I sing to her, but then she always does. She's just... focused." Tip, tip. "When she's not asleep."
Milani straightens a kink in the sheet, moves down to make a neat military corner at the foot of the cot, gets that side set and goes over to finish off the other. That done, it's time for the blanket, seasonally light and airy, actually a nice looking article, multi-colored strands bright as they catch sunbeams and set yet more currents aswirl in the quiet of the weyr. "Cattle chute. Ha." That amuses Milani and she tugs the blanket this way and that to even it out. "Focused. Hmm. That doesn't sound so bad."
"It isn't." Tip, tip, tip, shallower now. The blanket wafts the air higher, sends a breeze riding up the back of the greenrider's neck. She doesn't look back. "Just, the waiting is all. Tell them to leave the chair in here, will you?" It's not a particularly heavy chair, doesn't have padding, may or may not be comfortable. But it's sturdy.
The blanket doesn't get tucked in, but the sheet does get folded over prettily across the top of it and then Milani's fishing pillows out of the press and slipping them into cases to plump up at the cot's head. "There. Since she's going up soon, guess I can say, all ready for you." There's a wry twist to her smile as she comes over and flops down on the floor near Leova's feet, leaning her weight back on her hands and regards the rider thoughtfully. "Waiting for just about anything kind of sucks. Being stuck between things. You know." She takes a deep breath, lets it out and tilts her head back a little into a sunbeam, the light casting contrasts of shadow and brightness across her face. "Sure. I don't know why a couple of them don't get left. There's always a few brought in by someone for every flight."
"How about you don't," says Leova with some wryness of her own. She looks down as Milani sits. The tipping slows. But what she's looking to do is reach out with one hand above the younger woman's head, seeing whether the breeze it makes as it tips by is enough to shift any of those strawberry-blonde strands. "Yeah. Least it isn't candidacy, hm? Or waiting for a letter from Ista, let's say. Back before you were over it. Of course." Tip, tip. "Who brings them?"
"Sorry, that wasn't a very good joke, and probably not the kind of teasing you're up for right now," Milani apologizes honestly. She looks up as Leova's hand skirts past the top of her head and a loose strand or two of her hair slip through fingers and fall back into place. "I wouldn't know about Candidacy, actually. I've never Stood. I know I can ask if I really wanted to, but I've never felt the urge and no dragon's ever looked at me sideways." Her smile reappears, bright. "I still like getting letters from Ista. I don't think 'over it' is really the right words." Her brows furrow for a second then smooth out. "Oh whomever's on message duty."
"S'all right. If she were awake, would be easier." Leova laughs under her breath as Milani's head lifts toward the breeze she created, fingers dancing away before more than those couple of strands can catch them. "Up on the Star Stones, you know? Wonder how special it would feel, just being able to ask. Seeing the hatchings since you were little. Used to it. All of that." Tip, tip, and now she's resting her arms on the chair's back again. "Not over it. All right. Meant who brings the chairs, not the letters, though. Not that far gone!"
"Waiting is easier when she's awake? Because you can talk to her?" Milani asks this curiously: clearly she doesn't have the answers here. "So you'd sit up there, on the Stones? Is that it?" Her knees draw up to her chest and she leans forward, pillowing her chin there. The sunlight shifts, reflecting off the top of her head, face cast into full shadow. "It just seems normal to me. Not really all that special, just the way things are. Might be more special to be Searched. I don't know." Shrug. "Okay with it?" she offers a counter suggestion, then laughs. "The riders do."
"But which riders?" Leova finally lets the chair come to all four legs again, half-sitting in it and pulling up her own, the soft skirt almost hiding the tops of her workaday boots. Tracing back to Milani's actual questions, "She's up on the 'Stones. Got a lot of whittling done up there... Couldn't help but think it would have made good copying time, for those notes we used to have to take." One boot slides down, and she tips the chair again, a shallower arc now. "Just. Clearer when she's awake. Makes me happy."
"Honestly, I don't know. Probably the chasing ones. Though my mother apparently sets the whole place up when Sionath goes up. I -- well I've never really hung around to find out, Leova. I just know that there's usually some missing right before or during a flight, usually from the living cavern and we clear them back out afterwards." A rounded oh of understanding shapes Milani's mouth and she nods. "Yeah. It's a /really/ nice view up there too. Especially in the summer." The last she only smiles for, nods, accepting it. "That sounds like better than not so bad, really. Happy."
"Sets the whole place up," Leova repeats, poised just at the tipping point to look up and around. And then she shakes her head, and the chair goes back. It stays there for a little while. "She has this way of making me happy, sometimes, even when I know I probably shouldn't be. Funny how that works... Listen, Milani? I'm not saying, stick around. But if you don't mind keeping an eye on things until you think it's right for you to leave, or we get in here. Whichever comes first." And after, they'll be on their own.
"Yeah. Decorates. Brings food. She -- well you know. Proddy makes people a little loopy in the head." One of Milani's fingers circles just shy of her temple in the universal sign for 'crazy'. "It's nice she makes you happy like that though. That's really sweet. Vrianth's one cool green," the girl compliments and then blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. "Um. Say what?"
"Food." This time the corner of Leova's mouth actually curls. "Could be worse, she could be..." and then Milani's reaction to the rest sinks in. "What did I say? Meant, just. Seen other people, before, keeping an eye on the addled types until they get shooed into here, making sure they don't do nothing stupid. Before here. Not here. Just before."
"Yeah. Fruit baskets. That kind of thing. Cake one time." Milani wrinkles up her nose and shrugs. "Yeah. She could be violent or slutty and she isn't. THough really I just can't see my mother being either of those, even proddy." She nods a couple of times. "Oh oh ... okay. Just trying to sort out what you meant. Because, really, I don't want to be in here or around a bunch of horny, sweaty riders all trying to paw at me. That is /not/ my idea of a good time. And ... might be better to have a nice big, brawny guy. Male greenrider maybe, to do that, not me. I'm ... scrawny." She holds one arm out for proof.
Leova can go with the humor, enough to mime grabbing a fruit. Aiming. Throwing. Overhand. But then, easing the chair down, steadily eyeing the redhead, "No. Wouldn't put you in that sort of bind, Milani. Know who I could ask, keep an eye on things that way. Just thought, you're somebody who knows me." Knows her better. Better than he would. "Don't be worrying about it. We'll handle things."
"I can though. Before you guys get in here," Milani says after a second and she meets that amber gaze directly. "Don't want anyone grabbing you either, I'm just no good in a fight. I'll bring a broom though. That ought to sort things. Sweep off anyone that gets fresh with you before it's time?" Brows lift and then she nods. "Backup might be good though. If you're worried." She takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I ... don't envy greenriders. Giving up control when your dragon's chasing, seems bad enough. This ..." she gestures around and looks back up at her friend, sympathetically, "it must take a lot of getting used to."
"That broom idea. /Like/ that." Leova doesn't pat her chair, but she does give it a slight nudge that's more of a shudder than an actual tip as she keeps Millie's gaze. "Funny." Then it really is more of a tip, back, forth, and she's looking out toward the light. "Not going to worry. That's the plan. You get out of it what you put in. Not going to worry. Try not to worry, anyway." And then her expression lights up, nothing overt but a sum of its parts. Someone's awake.
"Heh. Yeah, I'll whack them upside the head, how's that?" Chipper Milani and she beams a grin up at Leova and nods. "That doesn't sound like a bad plan either. My mother says, to just roll with it, only way to go. So there you go. Wisdom from an older greenrider?" She shrugs and then pushes up to her feet and stretches arms over head, tilts another look over at the bed and moves to flip the press closed since she forgot after she took the pillows out. "I should get back. There's some stuff I have to organize in Stores. This was kind of a mini-break. Had to be done and I volunteered jut to get out of the bustle for a little bit."
"Not going to look at that phrase too close," Leova teases, turning back, that spark still in her eyes. Her smile. "And glad you did, Millie. Sometimes things just work out, hm?" And though she's quick to go meet her landing dragon, she's also careful to set her chair in the shadows. Not too far from the way in. Or the way out.
Laughter. Bright. Milani's head tipped back for the teasing. "Yeah well, still. I hope it goes ... well." The corners of her mouth turn wry at that little pause the word choice and she nods. "Yeah. Sometimes they do." She smoothes her skirts down a little, lets Leova walk ahead of her, casts a last look back around the guest weyr, pensive briefly, maybe on her friend's behalf, then she walks back out into the light, humming a little ditty softly under her breath.