Log: Hyper
Who: Anvori, Milani
When: It is a spring morning, 8:53 of day 26, month 5, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Kitchen/Stores, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani is hyper. Anvori tries to get her to chill out a little before some awkward puts the kibosh on the conversation.
Morning, but past most people's breakfast times, the kitchen is rolling over from breakfast prep into a slight lull, a little breather before lunch prep picks up in earnest again. Several of the cooks have taken over one of the alcoves and are chattering away merrily, eating breakfast leftovers and rolling their eyes about the imprecations of the head cook, earlier. In the mix, the headwoman, leaning against one of the counters, clipboard at hand and blowing across the surface of a mug, which, when close enough to catch it, smells distinctly like ginger and chamomile. "Good, not short on anything," Milani is saying to the portly women who stands across the way from her, right before taking a careful sip of the liquid in that mug. "All right then, just let me know. And thank you for the tea."
With it being such a time between breakfast and lunch, the preparations for opening must be in full swing at the Snowasis, which of course, makes it quite odd to find Anvori in the kitchens at all. Is he running late? Doesn't he have places to be? But no, there he is, coming in through the doors from the inner cavern hallway with the expression that a person has when looking for something. Or someone. None of which he sees in the kitchens currently, but as the flash of disappointment disappears as his body pivots back, his motion stays a second. Then slowly returns to Milani and the portly women she speaks to, favoring the entire group with a quick, dimpled smile. Definitely not the person he was looking for, but familiar enough to pause at least and say hi before going about his business. And so he calls a casual and quite nosy, "Hey. Were we short on anything before?"
The headwoman misses that flash of disappointment but swivels her upper boy at Anvori's hail and returns his smile with a bright one of her own. "Good morning, Anvori! And no, not yet, I'm just making sure we're /not/, or rather that the /kitchen/ isn't. You know, lining things up for the day!" And Milani tap-taps on the top of her clipboard. "Not missing anything in the Snowasis, are you? The weather's getting nicer, warmer, more visitors, hopefully more customers, eh?" She lifts that mug up again, takes a healthy sip, then sets it down. "And how're the girls doing? I see Riahla a fair bit, running about, less of Suireh, she's so much quieter."
The multitude of emphasis Milani sprinkles into her words garners a lifted brow, curious, but the politeness instilled in him has Anvori asking no questions. Indeed, that smile of his secrets itself about the corners, tucking itself in a little to reflect a sobriety that suits the discussion of shortages, or lackthereofs and the fine lines about his eyes crinkles just a bit, enough to suit the shift to weather and his surrogate daughters. The barkeep's mouth parts, consideration tilting his head to the ceiling though his hazel eyes remain fixed to Milani, though he can't be wholly ignorant of the portly women just standing beyond the Headwoman, listening in with all the gossipy curiosity of their nature. Ah well, what can you do of gossip, and with this resignation that draws his shoulders up, Anvori notes, that's displeased in the very mildness of it, "Riahla's been spending time with her father in Monaco, which probably accounts for Suireh seeming so much quieter lately."
That lifted brow, polite as it is, just earns another beamed grin. "You know, kitchen tends to run out of things first. So, I check, to see if I need to send people around to get things and so on and son," Millie explains with a loose waving of her hand to emphasizes /that/ point too. Attentive to Anvori's reply, the headwoman nevertheless reaches for her mug, tilts her head towards one of the alcoves over there. Where it's quieter. "Have a moment to sit? And then: "Oh, that does make sense, given you know their natures. Being so different and all."
A beat passes as Anvori takes this all in, though the curiosity of his lifted brow has now shifted into the bemused set of his lips. "For someone who's just checking in on things, you talk like someone who has something to hide. Y'know, grand gestures, overemphasis." The tease this turns into curls the corners about his mouth and grants Milani a sly little wink. "So what is High Reaches' Headwoman hiding that she has to emphasize every other word out of her mouth?" As for her invitation to move, it's met with the slightest shake of his head, rueful and tempered by those brackets about his lips. "Working hours and all. Only popped in to see if Klemain was around to do some handywork in the Snowasis."
Gathering the mug up, Milani braces it with her second hand this time as she drinks then quirks a funny little look back at Anvori. "Does that mean I should take a deep breath and slow down this morning? Because you know, in the end, I'm a very terrible liar and if I /was/ hiding something, it'd probably be very very obvious," Millie laughs a little, grin turning wry though colored with a tinge of warmth for the bartender. "I probably had too much klah first thing. I've been feeling jittery, you know? So, tea is probably a good idea." A tap of fingers to mug. "And Klemain, do you want me to have one of the assistants run him down for you? Anything in particular you need fixed?" Because apparently whether it's too much klah or something else, the headwoman is pretty hyper this morning.
Ah, the hyperness of youth. So says Anvori's indulgent look that could totally be condescending, but then it's paired with a hand that reaches out to try and tweak the young woman's chin. "Slow down, kid." Impish beat. "Ma'am." From up near her face to turned to the door, Anvori gestures out to the hallway, at least away from the gossip prying ears that strain to catch a tidbit of the 'poor dead weyrwoman's' 'poor, orphan kids.' Except they're not really orphans and all. "I don't need anything particular from him. Nothing I can't handle on my own. Darling, you take on too much on your own shoulders. People," he notes with a sidelong quirked grin, "Can actually take care of themselves."
Milani dimples at Anvori now as his hand reaches for her chin and she actually /giggles/ a little for 'kid' followed by 'Ma'am', only kid also gets a little bit of an eyeroll. And if that doesn't make the gossips /also/ start whispering about how cute the dead weyrwoman's brother is and the headwoman's crush on him, then they're not very good gossips, are they? Milani picks up her clipboard though, nodding for the invitation to step out into the hallway. "Heading for the stores in a moment," she notes agreeably then bursts out laughing. "I think it must be a disease that my family suffers from. We don't know when to quit," Millie says thoughtfully. "We have a hard-working streak. Both of my brothers just kind of, go until they drop," she explains as she follows Anvori to the exit and out to the hallway. "I'll just trust you to let me know if you need more than the usual talent for something."
"There's hardworking and then there's /hard/working." Making his own use of emphasis, Anvori takse the first steps out into a busier hallway, where walking with the Headwoman and conversing garners less attention than the kitchen gossips they've just left. Filled with poise and gentlemanly regard, he claims her elbow to help steer her through the crowds towards the Weyr's entrance, where the storerooms and the Snowasis lies. "And then," he adds a little more thoughtfully, with a gentle squeeze about her arm, ostensibly to avoid the careening of children at play, "There's too much involvement. And my dear, you've all the makings of becoming one of those doting aunties in your old age." But the long not-forgotten subject of his charges surfaces in these noisier hallways, and a slow, exhaled breath, leads to, "They aren't so different. The girls. When you know them."
Dodging traffic, Milani can't help looking a little taken aback by that statement and if she didn't have both hands full one of them would probably be lifting to her cheek. As it is she can only blink and take a deep breath and exclaim: "Well Faranth preserve me from that," she says feelingly. "I've never really much seen myself as the doting type." His exhale though, quiets the headwoman and Milani tilts a look at him, smiles fondly. "And you do, very well." Beat. "How are they alike, Anvori? If you don't mind telling me. I only have surface impressions from seeing them here and there about the caverns."
"You mean well," says the man, his arm slipping from her elbow to about her waist in a hug, affectionate, if big brotherly. "But like now, is it so hard for a grown man to find another grown man that they need an intermediary?" The warmth of his alto delves teasingly wry. "Just refrain from match making and I think you'll probably safe for a few decades yet." A turn brings them to a quieter area of the Weyr, the hallway that connects the bustling inner caverns with the more industrial entrance area, and in this quiet, his second, elongated exhalation can be heard all the more. The amusement and joy the two girls bring him is transparent, if not in the already typically amiable lines of his face, then in his low voice. "It's hard to explain and nothing superficial interactions would show. Suffice, they care for each other a great deal and Riahla being away affects Suireh in a way I don't think anyone can quite console."
"Well see I know what jobs everyone's on this morning, or at least I can look it up for you, save you some walking around going, 'where is that handyman!'," Milani explains with a little tilt of her head. "So you know, it's just part of the job." Shoulders up, shoulders down. "And I'm on duty. Off-duty, I do have to get better at saying 'just go ask Alieva'." And then there's some ducking of her head and trying not to laugh too hard, because, hello, hot tea in hand. "Match making, shells, no, got over that turns ago. It was a lot more fun when I was fourteen and didn't think the consequences through completely." She leans a little into that sideways hug, cheek brushing his shoulder, though the quality of that affection is similar, fondness, nothing more. "How can anyone really replace your twin?" Milani answers question with question-that's-not-really-a-question, in a quieter tone. "And they're probably even closer than ever since ... last turn." Carefully voiced and her eyes flick over towards him, gauging maybe.
Anvori's face is a mask of neutrality, and oh look, there's the entrance to the stores right there. How's the timing of that? His agreement turns into an abrupt change of topic. "It's not easy for either of them, no. You can find your way from here?" Again, the impish quality of a vocal tease lightens the flat lines of his, smiling but not really, face. "And if I desperately need Klemain and really, truly can't find him, I'll be sure to come to you when you're on duty. Maybe I'll even ask you when you're off duty, just to help you get better at saying no."
Milani has the grace to look apologetic, briefly for the shut-down in Anvori's manner. "Yes, I can, thank you for walking with me, Anvori," the headwoman says sincerely. "And if you want to help me practice, I won't say no," she offers up, with a slightly teasing quality in return. "Good luck with the hammer and nails today."
With the apology so transparent, if for a moment, Anvori relaxes, the tense hold of his features smoothing out. He'll even laugh a little, low and self-mocking and drop those hazel eyes to study the ground. "Thanks. Have a good rest of your day, ma'am kid." Incorrigible to the end, luckily his own stop is just a pivot and up into the Snowasis.
When: It is a spring morning, 8:53 of day 26, month 5, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Kitchen/Stores, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani is hyper. Anvori tries to get her to chill out a little before some awkward puts the kibosh on the conversation.
Morning, but past most people's breakfast times, the kitchen is rolling over from breakfast prep into a slight lull, a little breather before lunch prep picks up in earnest again. Several of the cooks have taken over one of the alcoves and are chattering away merrily, eating breakfast leftovers and rolling their eyes about the imprecations of the head cook, earlier. In the mix, the headwoman, leaning against one of the counters, clipboard at hand and blowing across the surface of a mug, which, when close enough to catch it, smells distinctly like ginger and chamomile. "Good, not short on anything," Milani is saying to the portly women who stands across the way from her, right before taking a careful sip of the liquid in that mug. "All right then, just let me know. And thank you for the tea."
With it being such a time between breakfast and lunch, the preparations for opening must be in full swing at the Snowasis, which of course, makes it quite odd to find Anvori in the kitchens at all. Is he running late? Doesn't he have places to be? But no, there he is, coming in through the doors from the inner cavern hallway with the expression that a person has when looking for something. Or someone. None of which he sees in the kitchens currently, but as the flash of disappointment disappears as his body pivots back, his motion stays a second. Then slowly returns to Milani and the portly women she speaks to, favoring the entire group with a quick, dimpled smile. Definitely not the person he was looking for, but familiar enough to pause at least and say hi before going about his business. And so he calls a casual and quite nosy, "Hey. Were we short on anything before?"
The headwoman misses that flash of disappointment but swivels her upper boy at Anvori's hail and returns his smile with a bright one of her own. "Good morning, Anvori! And no, not yet, I'm just making sure we're /not/, or rather that the /kitchen/ isn't. You know, lining things up for the day!" And Milani tap-taps on the top of her clipboard. "Not missing anything in the Snowasis, are you? The weather's getting nicer, warmer, more visitors, hopefully more customers, eh?" She lifts that mug up again, takes a healthy sip, then sets it down. "And how're the girls doing? I see Riahla a fair bit, running about, less of Suireh, she's so much quieter."
The multitude of emphasis Milani sprinkles into her words garners a lifted brow, curious, but the politeness instilled in him has Anvori asking no questions. Indeed, that smile of his secrets itself about the corners, tucking itself in a little to reflect a sobriety that suits the discussion of shortages, or lackthereofs and the fine lines about his eyes crinkles just a bit, enough to suit the shift to weather and his surrogate daughters. The barkeep's mouth parts, consideration tilting his head to the ceiling though his hazel eyes remain fixed to Milani, though he can't be wholly ignorant of the portly women just standing beyond the Headwoman, listening in with all the gossipy curiosity of their nature. Ah well, what can you do of gossip, and with this resignation that draws his shoulders up, Anvori notes, that's displeased in the very mildness of it, "Riahla's been spending time with her father in Monaco, which probably accounts for Suireh seeming so much quieter lately."
That lifted brow, polite as it is, just earns another beamed grin. "You know, kitchen tends to run out of things first. So, I check, to see if I need to send people around to get things and so on and son," Millie explains with a loose waving of her hand to emphasizes /that/ point too. Attentive to Anvori's reply, the headwoman nevertheless reaches for her mug, tilts her head towards one of the alcoves over there. Where it's quieter. "Have a moment to sit? And then: "Oh, that does make sense, given you know their natures. Being so different and all."
A beat passes as Anvori takes this all in, though the curiosity of his lifted brow has now shifted into the bemused set of his lips. "For someone who's just checking in on things, you talk like someone who has something to hide. Y'know, grand gestures, overemphasis." The tease this turns into curls the corners about his mouth and grants Milani a sly little wink. "So what is High Reaches' Headwoman hiding that she has to emphasize every other word out of her mouth?" As for her invitation to move, it's met with the slightest shake of his head, rueful and tempered by those brackets about his lips. "Working hours and all. Only popped in to see if Klemain was around to do some handywork in the Snowasis."
Gathering the mug up, Milani braces it with her second hand this time as she drinks then quirks a funny little look back at Anvori. "Does that mean I should take a deep breath and slow down this morning? Because you know, in the end, I'm a very terrible liar and if I /was/ hiding something, it'd probably be very very obvious," Millie laughs a little, grin turning wry though colored with a tinge of warmth for the bartender. "I probably had too much klah first thing. I've been feeling jittery, you know? So, tea is probably a good idea." A tap of fingers to mug. "And Klemain, do you want me to have one of the assistants run him down for you? Anything in particular you need fixed?" Because apparently whether it's too much klah or something else, the headwoman is pretty hyper this morning.
Ah, the hyperness of youth. So says Anvori's indulgent look that could totally be condescending, but then it's paired with a hand that reaches out to try and tweak the young woman's chin. "Slow down, kid." Impish beat. "Ma'am." From up near her face to turned to the door, Anvori gestures out to the hallway, at least away from the gossip prying ears that strain to catch a tidbit of the 'poor dead weyrwoman's' 'poor, orphan kids.' Except they're not really orphans and all. "I don't need anything particular from him. Nothing I can't handle on my own. Darling, you take on too much on your own shoulders. People," he notes with a sidelong quirked grin, "Can actually take care of themselves."
Milani dimples at Anvori now as his hand reaches for her chin and she actually /giggles/ a little for 'kid' followed by 'Ma'am', only kid also gets a little bit of an eyeroll. And if that doesn't make the gossips /also/ start whispering about how cute the dead weyrwoman's brother is and the headwoman's crush on him, then they're not very good gossips, are they? Milani picks up her clipboard though, nodding for the invitation to step out into the hallway. "Heading for the stores in a moment," she notes agreeably then bursts out laughing. "I think it must be a disease that my family suffers from. We don't know when to quit," Millie says thoughtfully. "We have a hard-working streak. Both of my brothers just kind of, go until they drop," she explains as she follows Anvori to the exit and out to the hallway. "I'll just trust you to let me know if you need more than the usual talent for something."
"There's hardworking and then there's /hard/working." Making his own use of emphasis, Anvori takse the first steps out into a busier hallway, where walking with the Headwoman and conversing garners less attention than the kitchen gossips they've just left. Filled with poise and gentlemanly regard, he claims her elbow to help steer her through the crowds towards the Weyr's entrance, where the storerooms and the Snowasis lies. "And then," he adds a little more thoughtfully, with a gentle squeeze about her arm, ostensibly to avoid the careening of children at play, "There's too much involvement. And my dear, you've all the makings of becoming one of those doting aunties in your old age." But the long not-forgotten subject of his charges surfaces in these noisier hallways, and a slow, exhaled breath, leads to, "They aren't so different. The girls. When you know them."
Dodging traffic, Milani can't help looking a little taken aback by that statement and if she didn't have both hands full one of them would probably be lifting to her cheek. As it is she can only blink and take a deep breath and exclaim: "Well Faranth preserve me from that," she says feelingly. "I've never really much seen myself as the doting type." His exhale though, quiets the headwoman and Milani tilts a look at him, smiles fondly. "And you do, very well." Beat. "How are they alike, Anvori? If you don't mind telling me. I only have surface impressions from seeing them here and there about the caverns."
"You mean well," says the man, his arm slipping from her elbow to about her waist in a hug, affectionate, if big brotherly. "But like now, is it so hard for a grown man to find another grown man that they need an intermediary?" The warmth of his alto delves teasingly wry. "Just refrain from match making and I think you'll probably safe for a few decades yet." A turn brings them to a quieter area of the Weyr, the hallway that connects the bustling inner caverns with the more industrial entrance area, and in this quiet, his second, elongated exhalation can be heard all the more. The amusement and joy the two girls bring him is transparent, if not in the already typically amiable lines of his face, then in his low voice. "It's hard to explain and nothing superficial interactions would show. Suffice, they care for each other a great deal and Riahla being away affects Suireh in a way I don't think anyone can quite console."
"Well see I know what jobs everyone's on this morning, or at least I can look it up for you, save you some walking around going, 'where is that handyman!'," Milani explains with a little tilt of her head. "So you know, it's just part of the job." Shoulders up, shoulders down. "And I'm on duty. Off-duty, I do have to get better at saying 'just go ask Alieva'." And then there's some ducking of her head and trying not to laugh too hard, because, hello, hot tea in hand. "Match making, shells, no, got over that turns ago. It was a lot more fun when I was fourteen and didn't think the consequences through completely." She leans a little into that sideways hug, cheek brushing his shoulder, though the quality of that affection is similar, fondness, nothing more. "How can anyone really replace your twin?" Milani answers question with question-that's-not-really-a-question, in a quieter tone. "And they're probably even closer than ever since ... last turn." Carefully voiced and her eyes flick over towards him, gauging maybe.
Anvori's face is a mask of neutrality, and oh look, there's the entrance to the stores right there. How's the timing of that? His agreement turns into an abrupt change of topic. "It's not easy for either of them, no. You can find your way from here?" Again, the impish quality of a vocal tease lightens the flat lines of his, smiling but not really, face. "And if I desperately need Klemain and really, truly can't find him, I'll be sure to come to you when you're on duty. Maybe I'll even ask you when you're off duty, just to help you get better at saying no."
Milani has the grace to look apologetic, briefly for the shut-down in Anvori's manner. "Yes, I can, thank you for walking with me, Anvori," the headwoman says sincerely. "And if you want to help me practice, I won't say no," she offers up, with a slightly teasing quality in return. "Good luck with the hammer and nails today."
With the apology so transparent, if for a moment, Anvori relaxes, the tense hold of his features smoothing out. He'll even laugh a little, low and self-mocking and drop those hazel eyes to study the ground. "Thanks. Have a good rest of your day, ma'am kid." Incorrigible to the end, luckily his own stop is just a pivot and up into the Snowasis.