/Coooool/
Who: Gedroth and Elaruth
When: Early morning of day 2, month 9, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: In their minds
What: Gedroth asks Elaruth why she doesn't sleep in the barracks anymore, and finds out about her new weyr. They make decoration plans.
It's early morning, not the proper time for crickets, yet the sound of chirping crickets in an empty cave is unmistakeable. That is something riders talk about, is it not? So quiet you could hear crickets? Gedroth's mental presence filters in slowly once the crickets have made their debut. << You're not here this morning. Where did you go? >> He is in the weyrling barracks, him and his crickets. (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth lets the trickle of bright, clear water on the very edge of the marshland sneak in amongst the crickets, careful not to sweep them away. << Somewhere else. Peirith and hers showed us somewhere we might live. >> Reeds rustle a little, quiet excitement. << We live here now. >> A ledge, a little way up some steps, and a flicker of a mostly empty weyr beyond.
To Elaruth, Gedroth's crickets hop cautiously towards the water, perching on the swaying reeds and waving their tiny legs at it. The chirping stops: they are too busy being curious. << That looks like a very nice place. I didn't know some weyrs had stairs. >> He tries to take her image and rotate it, getting a peek at it from different angles. << I wonder why they moved you out early? Maybe because you're so big. Or, >> excited by this idea, << because they saw you on your other ledge. They knew you were ready to move. >> And immediately he starts to ponder taking over a ledge of his own, so he can get similar treatment.
To Gedroth, Elaruth keeps her voice quiet as the flow of water slows to weave more carefully around the reeds. << I apologized for appropriating the ledge, >> she admits. << It was not mine to have. This one is. Peirith said I would have room to move now and I do. >> The water flickers a murky green for a moment. << It is... strange. Being here. And you are there. >> Unease presents itself and vanishes almost as suddenly as it appears. << You will have somewhere soon? >>
The crickets let out a plaintive note, realizing that if Peirith wanted to give Elaruth more room, it probably /was/ her size that justified it. << We'll have somewhere soon, >> he agrees, though he sounds less than pleased. << I don't know why we need to wait, now that we're old enough to fly. Rho says they're probably cleaning the weyrs for us, but I could do that myself, and probably faster. >> Crickets bounce from reed to reed, their actions hinting at a rapid flit of thoughts before he comes back, politely, to address Elaruth's unease with her lonely weyr. << I asked Mecaith whether it got lonely having your own weyr. >> He shares with her a mental "quote," an unvoiced explanation that others' minds were always within reach, and their bodies could always be invited over if one wanted physical company. (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth paints a little picture in pale watercolours with precise sweeps from a tiny brush. Gedroth, with a broom in his teeth. Cleaning. Or with intent to. << Would you like an apron like I have seen them wear, too? >> she asks softly, so very serious that it's perhaps difficult to find the tease running through her voice. << ...It is not so much lonely as... different. Not all being together as we were. >> A decision, with a gentle breeze that ruffles the surface of the water. << You should visit. When we are settled. >>
To Elaruth, Gedroth is too literal-minded to pick up on such a subtle tease. << No, if I get dirty, I will just go clean myself in the lake. >> He amends the picture, changing out the broom for a towel that he pushes around the room with his paw, dusting into the corners. This is somewhat realistic? << Let me know when you're settled, I will certainly come. I want to see what it looks like lived-in. I think it's interesting, what our riders choose to decorate their spaces with. It expresses who they are. >> At least, in Rhodya's case, it will express who she is. He shares another image of his future weyr, all dusted out now, and decorated with a bunk bed, a flower table, and handholds for climbing up the wall. Oh, and a potted plant! These funny quirks of hers intrigue him.
To Gedroth, Elaruth is more resigned than frustrated when she says, << She has not decorated and she will not let me. Yet. I suppose we have been here only a very short while. >> Again, the mostly empty weyr, the only colour in the place the curtain that hides the bathing pool and the clashing pink of bed linen. << ...The pink was not my choice, >> she insists very quietly. << I wanted pale blue. But the bed is not mine to sleep in. >>
To Elaruth, Gedroth considers, and crickets hop back and forth in a flurry once again. << She can decorate her space, or not, and you can decorate your space, >> he suggests, appointing himself the mediator between Elaruth and Hattie. << We could get light blue paint from the stores and paint your couch. That would actually be very nice. >> Again he tweaks her image, adding a blue couch which does, in his estimation, go very nicely with the pink linens. The curtain is left alone.
To Gedroth, Elaruth considers the pale blue couch and instead splashes the colour up onto the walls with a mental blink. << I do not know whether we will be allowed to paint things. She says this place belonged to someone important. >> The name of this person, she doesn't know, but she steals several bars of a ballad of some kind from her rider's mind and drifts them through the reeds. << What colour would you paint your couch? Or walls? >> she questions.
The crickets flip open their wings, listening to the song, and repeat it in their chirping chorus. Gedroth has them run through it a couple of times, noting it down for later, but he doesn't recognize it. << It belongs to you now, >> he points out, with total disrespect for history. << I don't know what is more important than Fort's weyrwoman, but if she will not paint, maybe you can hang more curtains. Blue ones. >> Now the walls of her weyr ripple ever so slightly in the breeze, which is /coooool/. << I like this color, >> he shows her a brown touched with red. << But I'm already brown, even if a different shade. I don't want to be boring. >> (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth is so still and quiet and utterly fixated with the thought of walls that are not only pale blue, but soft and cast through with ripples that it might feel like she's suddenly not there. << I think you are brilliant. >> So says an adoring sister, out of the, well, blue. << You could add patterns in lighter or darker shades, >> she suggests, mirroring the red-touched brown back at him. << Intricate ones. Unpredictable. They would not be boring. >>
<< Thank you, >> Gedroth responds simply. It was very clever of him, it is not surprising that she notices. But the crickets welcome her adoration with a unanimous salute, giving one long and high-pitched chirp. Their conductor is considering the image of patterned walls, and after a few moments, he returns to Elaruth with a russet background traced out with thin yellow lines, each of them hinting at imagery - curling vines, many-pointed stars - without ever materializing into anything concrete. << Like this! >> he suggests happily. << Does that look good? I like the yellow. >> (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth approves with a cheerful, << Like that! >> However, a moment of hesitation and she adds, << The yellow should maybe not be too powerful or it will be all a person will see. >> Interior design by Gedroth and Elaruth, demos soon at a weyr near you. Sunlight dances over the tiny ripples in the water and the little queen goes a bit faint. << She is awake. We will see you... >> For yes, there is still class and there are still drills and duties, even if she has her grown-up weyr. << ...Soon! >> She reflects an image across the water's surface - herself headed across the bowl from her ledge to touch her nose to his.
To Elaruth, Gedroth corrects as she told him too, putting in fewer of his crazy designs and thinning out the lines he used to make them. Now, it's no longer an explosion of color, but an uncharacteristically (for him) subtle detail. << That, >> he says, sure that he's got it this time. The crickets crawl up to the very tips of their perches, bending the reeds down so they can peer more directly at the image on the water. << Very soon, >> he tells her happily, and it is his actual, physical self - no mere image - that comes bounding out of the barracks to bugle at her before lessons begin.
When: Early morning of day 2, month 9, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: In their minds
What: Gedroth asks Elaruth why she doesn't sleep in the barracks anymore, and finds out about her new weyr. They make decoration plans.
It's early morning, not the proper time for crickets, yet the sound of chirping crickets in an empty cave is unmistakeable. That is something riders talk about, is it not? So quiet you could hear crickets? Gedroth's mental presence filters in slowly once the crickets have made their debut. << You're not here this morning. Where did you go? >> He is in the weyrling barracks, him and his crickets. (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth lets the trickle of bright, clear water on the very edge of the marshland sneak in amongst the crickets, careful not to sweep them away. << Somewhere else. Peirith and hers showed us somewhere we might live. >> Reeds rustle a little, quiet excitement. << We live here now. >> A ledge, a little way up some steps, and a flicker of a mostly empty weyr beyond.
To Elaruth, Gedroth's crickets hop cautiously towards the water, perching on the swaying reeds and waving their tiny legs at it. The chirping stops: they are too busy being curious. << That looks like a very nice place. I didn't know some weyrs had stairs. >> He tries to take her image and rotate it, getting a peek at it from different angles. << I wonder why they moved you out early? Maybe because you're so big. Or, >> excited by this idea, << because they saw you on your other ledge. They knew you were ready to move. >> And immediately he starts to ponder taking over a ledge of his own, so he can get similar treatment.
To Gedroth, Elaruth keeps her voice quiet as the flow of water slows to weave more carefully around the reeds. << I apologized for appropriating the ledge, >> she admits. << It was not mine to have. This one is. Peirith said I would have room to move now and I do. >> The water flickers a murky green for a moment. << It is... strange. Being here. And you are there. >> Unease presents itself and vanishes almost as suddenly as it appears. << You will have somewhere soon? >>
The crickets let out a plaintive note, realizing that if Peirith wanted to give Elaruth more room, it probably /was/ her size that justified it. << We'll have somewhere soon, >> he agrees, though he sounds less than pleased. << I don't know why we need to wait, now that we're old enough to fly. Rho says they're probably cleaning the weyrs for us, but I could do that myself, and probably faster. >> Crickets bounce from reed to reed, their actions hinting at a rapid flit of thoughts before he comes back, politely, to address Elaruth's unease with her lonely weyr. << I asked Mecaith whether it got lonely having your own weyr. >> He shares with her a mental "quote," an unvoiced explanation that others' minds were always within reach, and their bodies could always be invited over if one wanted physical company. (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth paints a little picture in pale watercolours with precise sweeps from a tiny brush. Gedroth, with a broom in his teeth. Cleaning. Or with intent to. << Would you like an apron like I have seen them wear, too? >> she asks softly, so very serious that it's perhaps difficult to find the tease running through her voice. << ...It is not so much lonely as... different. Not all being together as we were. >> A decision, with a gentle breeze that ruffles the surface of the water. << You should visit. When we are settled. >>
To Elaruth, Gedroth is too literal-minded to pick up on such a subtle tease. << No, if I get dirty, I will just go clean myself in the lake. >> He amends the picture, changing out the broom for a towel that he pushes around the room with his paw, dusting into the corners. This is somewhat realistic? << Let me know when you're settled, I will certainly come. I want to see what it looks like lived-in. I think it's interesting, what our riders choose to decorate their spaces with. It expresses who they are. >> At least, in Rhodya's case, it will express who she is. He shares another image of his future weyr, all dusted out now, and decorated with a bunk bed, a flower table, and handholds for climbing up the wall. Oh, and a potted plant! These funny quirks of hers intrigue him.
To Gedroth, Elaruth is more resigned than frustrated when she says, << She has not decorated and she will not let me. Yet. I suppose we have been here only a very short while. >> Again, the mostly empty weyr, the only colour in the place the curtain that hides the bathing pool and the clashing pink of bed linen. << ...The pink was not my choice, >> she insists very quietly. << I wanted pale blue. But the bed is not mine to sleep in. >>
To Elaruth, Gedroth considers, and crickets hop back and forth in a flurry once again. << She can decorate her space, or not, and you can decorate your space, >> he suggests, appointing himself the mediator between Elaruth and Hattie. << We could get light blue paint from the stores and paint your couch. That would actually be very nice. >> Again he tweaks her image, adding a blue couch which does, in his estimation, go very nicely with the pink linens. The curtain is left alone.
To Gedroth, Elaruth considers the pale blue couch and instead splashes the colour up onto the walls with a mental blink. << I do not know whether we will be allowed to paint things. She says this place belonged to someone important. >> The name of this person, she doesn't know, but she steals several bars of a ballad of some kind from her rider's mind and drifts them through the reeds. << What colour would you paint your couch? Or walls? >> she questions.
The crickets flip open their wings, listening to the song, and repeat it in their chirping chorus. Gedroth has them run through it a couple of times, noting it down for later, but he doesn't recognize it. << It belongs to you now, >> he points out, with total disrespect for history. << I don't know what is more important than Fort's weyrwoman, but if she will not paint, maybe you can hang more curtains. Blue ones. >> Now the walls of her weyr ripple ever so slightly in the breeze, which is /coooool/. << I like this color, >> he shows her a brown touched with red. << But I'm already brown, even if a different shade. I don't want to be boring. >> (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth is so still and quiet and utterly fixated with the thought of walls that are not only pale blue, but soft and cast through with ripples that it might feel like she's suddenly not there. << I think you are brilliant. >> So says an adoring sister, out of the, well, blue. << You could add patterns in lighter or darker shades, >> she suggests, mirroring the red-touched brown back at him. << Intricate ones. Unpredictable. They would not be boring. >>
<< Thank you, >> Gedroth responds simply. It was very clever of him, it is not surprising that she notices. But the crickets welcome her adoration with a unanimous salute, giving one long and high-pitched chirp. Their conductor is considering the image of patterned walls, and after a few moments, he returns to Elaruth with a russet background traced out with thin yellow lines, each of them hinting at imagery - curling vines, many-pointed stars - without ever materializing into anything concrete. << Like this! >> he suggests happily. << Does that look good? I like the yellow. >> (Gedroth to Elaruth)
To Gedroth, Elaruth approves with a cheerful, << Like that! >> However, a moment of hesitation and she adds, << The yellow should maybe not be too powerful or it will be all a person will see. >> Interior design by Gedroth and Elaruth, demos soon at a weyr near you. Sunlight dances over the tiny ripples in the water and the little queen goes a bit faint. << She is awake. We will see you... >> For yes, there is still class and there are still drills and duties, even if she has her grown-up weyr. << ...Soon! >> She reflects an image across the water's surface - herself headed across the bowl from her ledge to touch her nose to his.
To Elaruth, Gedroth corrects as she told him too, putting in fewer of his crazy designs and thinning out the lines he used to make them. Now, it's no longer an explosion of color, but an uncharacteristically (for him) subtle detail. << That, >> he says, sure that he's got it this time. The crickets crawl up to the very tips of their perches, bending the reeds down so they can peer more directly at the image on the water. << Very soon, >> he tells her happily, and it is his actual, physical self - no mere image - that comes bounding out of the barracks to bugle at her before lessons begin.