More possibility, less finality
Who: Rhodya and Kaida
When: Early afternoon on day 10, month 10, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya and Kaida run into each other again over a late lunch, and actually have time to get know each other this time around. The two Igenites learn each other's histories.
It's a bit late for lunch, but there's still food out and it's still warm and smells delicious. There is, however, only one table: the caverns staff are making a grand sweep of things, cleaning off accumulated food spills and polishing every table but that one, where those unfortunate enough to be taking a late lunch must crowd together. Rhodya doesn't seem too unhappy about it, being far too excited about the sandwiches piled high on her plate. She's only just settled down with them, and lets out an "Mm-mm!" of approval after taking the first bite.
It might be easier, seeing that one crowded table, to just turn around and leave again. But she's less likely to get pounced on to mend someone's split trousers or something if she's in a work-free zone. So it is that with a mug of klah and a plate with two small sandwiches stacked one atop the other, Kaida approaches the table, eyeing the number of people a trifle dubiously. "Think one more can squeeze in here?" she asks, her rough voice quiet.
A general permissive murmur goes around the table, a habit they've collectively developed to welcome each new lunch-taker into the group. Only Rhodya, because she's new and hasn't learned the customs, answers with more than muttered assent: "Of course! Hey, I remember you. Have a sit." She bumps herself and her plate to the side, crowding her neighbor to the left but making more room for Kaida on the end.
The murmur would have sufficed, Kaida hadn't really even been properly looking at anyone closely enough to see if she recognised any of them. But Rhodya's more intelligable words receive a closer examination of grey eyes to face. And even a small smile, as the weaver slips into the bit of space, setting her plate and mug on the table. "The Igenite. From the ale tasting. I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."
Rhodya chuckles, bobbing her head in agreement. "That's all right, I ain't good at names myself. I just remember the Igen thing, and the voice." She gets all the way to lifting her sandwich to her mouth before she remembers to add, "I'm Rhodya. Brown Gedroth's." She pops her right shoulder, so that the weyrling knot sitting there wags a bit, doing her the favor of explaining that she's not a /full/ rider yet.
"Kaida," said woman replies. "Apprentice Weaver." No jiggling of her own shoulder; she wastes no extra motion, though that may be as much to avoid jostling Rhodya as her own propensity towards quietude. "I remember you saying, you're from the Weyr, right? Before you got called away. How long have you been gone?"
Rhodya smiles and nods enthusiastically, pleased that Kaida remembers something about her. "Gettin' on two turns now, so it's been a while. 'Fraid I don't remember where you're from - not the Weyr, I know, but if it was anythin' other than the main hold, well, it slipped me." She brushes a hand over her head, mimicking the path her memories must have taken to escape. "'Course if you had to go apprentice, you've probably been away from home longer than I have, huh?"
Kaida glances sidelong at Rhodya, waits until she's finished chewing her bite of sandwich before asking, amused, "You know, do you? And, how would that be?" A short, raspy chuckle. "Mm. Four Turns." Pause. "Actually... almost five, now. I apprenticed a couple Turns late because my parents weren't willing to let go. Can I ask what brought you here?"
Rhodya looks rather flummoxed by the question, and it's a pity Kaida waited until she was finished with the sandwich, because now she doesn't have any chewing to excuse her silence. "Uhm," she says instead, to take up time. "I thought you mentioned it, but I guess I might've made it up. You don't look familiar," she explains weakly, although maybe she shouldn't have tried. The weyrling rolls her gaze elsewhere - it doesn't matter where, the ceiling, the wall! - to escape the embarrassment, which keeps on coming. "Oh, well, I had a - a pretty nasty break-up, and I couldn't stand to be there anymore. So I came here." Beat. She looks back at Kaida with a wry, and reluctantly amused, smile. "Kind of makes me sound like a silly kid, doesn't it?"
"Sorry," Kaida says softly, looking away from Rhodya's embarrassment. Oh look, bread crumbs. The weak explanation does see her lips curving back into a small smile. "I didn't get a chance to, you left too quick. I am indeed from the Weyr, though it's not so unusual that we don't recognise each other. We probably just ran with different crowds." Her gaze is drawn back at the weyrling's admission of the break up, as again she murmurs, "Sorry." After a sip of her klah, "It was impolite, to pry. But I can understand, when a situation becomes unbearable. Sometimes it's easier to leave. There is nothing childish about knowing when to move on." Wow, they've dived right into the deep end, haven't they? "Clearly, you were meant to come here," with a nod at her shoulder.
Rhodya waves away the commiseration, wrinkling her nose about that break-up. "Don't have to worry about being impolite. He was a right jerk and I don't regret leavin' him, but then I sometimes think... that was my home, you know? And to let myself get driven out of it, because of him... I tell you there's times when I look back on it and gag. Not that I don't like Fort," she's quick to add, peering curiously at Kaida. "I won't make any more assumptions - just 'cause I haven't seen you here either doesn't mean you're new - but I don't want to seem like I'm off the place or anything. I really do like it."
Kaida listens with head tilted slightly towards Rhodya, using the opporunity of the other woman's words to finish off her own sandwich in quick, neat bites. "Things are clearer, maybe, when you're removed from the situation by distance or time, yes?" she finally asks. "Perhaps it is that if you hadn't left, things would have been worse, in the end. You can never know." She chances a glance across, eyebrows lifting slightly if she can make eye contact. "It's cold." Meaning Fort. "I wasn't posted here until this Turn, summer time. Not long after the hatching, I don't think. A few months. It's... odd. It's nice, being back in a Weyr, familiar. And yet, very different from home."
There is eye contact, so Kaida's raised eyebrows are met with a slanted grin. "Well, I can sort of know, 'cause I got Gedroth here and not there. That automatically makes it better. Well, I shouldn't look back," she decides, shaking her head. She pokes a loose piece of meat back into her sandwich. "I don't want to complain about somethin' that turned out to be lucky. It's been a good change. And the cold - well, it /does/ get cold, but don't let anyone talk you into takin' it seriously." The brownrider sniffs judgmentally. "Most of the complainers are folks from places like Ista," which she evidently scorns, "but you're Igen, so you'll get over it. What about it do you think's different? I mean, I agree, I'd just be interested to hear what strikes you. I've heard me talk on it already." She grins broadly.
Kaida grins a little bit, crooked as one side of her mouth is more inclined to a downward turn than upward. "That's a good attitude to have. The future is more interesting to look towards, anyway. More possibility, less finality." The sniff even coaxes a small chuckle out of the formal weaver. "I expect it will take me some to adjust, but I am hoping that it's not so bad as they claim. Boll was a wet, heavy heat, made it feel like I couldn't breathe at first, but I survived that well enough." She lifts her klah mug in a mock toast, "To the fortitude of Igenites." And the following swallow of warm liquid allows her some time to consider. "The tension, mostly. It's so... frenetic, here. Of course, I didn't arrive at the best of times, what with the whole fabric shortage that was happening. Maybe it's just the fuzziness of fond memories, though."
Rhodya's only got juice, but she happily exchanges the sandwich she's holding to take it and return the toast. She allows herself a moment to chuckle, looking down into her glass and giving it a contemplative swirl. "Well, I arrived a bit before the fabric problem, and that's what I thought and what I've been sayin' to people. So if we Igenites are makin' stuff up, at least we're consistent about it." She looks up, grins, and takes a quick sip of her drink. "How is it for a weaver, then, now the shortage is over? I'll bet folks are all over you gettin' their things made in time for the fall fashions." She chuckles again, shaking her head ruefully. Fashion!
"Maybe it's just those afternoon naps we miss so much, eh?" Kaida suggests, a touch more of something like a normal person entering her voice and expression. "I mean, working all through the daylight and having our evenings free? It's just unnatural." The mention of fashion brings a wry, but not unpleasant expression crossing her features. "Up until now, it's been mostly replacing things that saw a little too much wear. Mostly trousers, strangely." Brows quirking, sliding upwards under her bangs. Followed by a shrug as she apparently chooses to dismiss that little oddity. "There've been a lot of requests for new formal gear. Gather raiment. I'm looking forward to the winter just for that, I think. It'll be nice getting back to what I'm best at." All this talking about herself, yeesh! She does know one question that usually sets a dragonrider to babbling, though. "Tell me about Gedroth?"
Rhodya's present through the babbling, listening and bobbing her head - enthusiastically, when she mentions the napping. "I don't even know what they find to do all day," she tosses in, then subsides to listen some more about Kaida's work. ("Men don't know how to take care of their clothes," according to her, explains the wealth of trousers.) And then, as expected, she's cheerfully suckered into talking about her dragon. "Oh, he's /great/. I always thought havin' a male dragon in your head would be so weird, but he's just a perfect fit. He's so earnest about everythin', he always tells you what you need to hear - not what you /want/ to hear - and he works so hard it's made weyrlinghood a breeze. I ain't had to fight with him at all. Well." Her smile quirks impishly. "Mostly. He's a bit hard-headed," she admits, with that sappy fondness dragonriders all seem to display.
Kaida might have suggestions about what Fortians find to do all day, but her current mode of polite formality means they aren't going to exit her mouth. She does agree, with a mildly aggrieved air, about the inability of men to care for their clothing. At least, most men. For her part, it's rather attentive listening to Rhodya gush about her lifemate, her smile finding itself less likely to run away through all those starshone descriptors of the brown's character. "This is what I miss most about Igen," she notes after Rhodya's slipping into sappy fondness. "Many of my friends were - are - dragonriders. And never shy about sharing stories."
Rhodya pauses a beat, confused, then turns up a grin. "Does that count as sharin' stories, me telling you just how great he is? I'd figure the home-grown Fortian riders are just about as happy to brag about their dragons as I am. Though, of course, I'm happy to oblige." Her grin becomes broad again, though she's got her next sandwich lifted in front of it, obscuring it somewhat as she prepares to take a bite. "Any chance to talk about Gedroth."
"That's just the introduction," Kaida notes cheerfully. "The stories come later." There's a brief flicker of her gaze, a shadow of emotion there and then gone. "I think I've just been meeting the wrong Fortian riders. With the possible exception of T'rev, but he's not mentioned Mecaith much." Probably because she's never asked. Details. She glances around the cavern, then, trying to judge by the progress of the full-out table-clean how much time has passed. A sigh, as she starts to push to her feet. "I enjoyed this. It's nice to hear a familiar voice, as well as a friendly one. I hope we can talk again. Don't hesitate to drop by the crafter's workroom if you require anything."
"Don't think I won't," Rhodya warns, wagging a finger playfully at the weaver. "'Cause now you're both from Igen /and/ you're gonna let me gab on about Gedroth, which is just the recipe for gettin' me to hang around you all the time." She chuckles, picking up her final sandwich and giving Kaida a loose farewell salute with it. "Really, though, I had a lot of fun talkin' to you. We'll see each other around, for sure."
Strangely, that warning receives a long look, before Kaida smiles again, warmly. "I look forward to it, Rhodya. This has been very pleasant. Clear skies, for you and Gedroth both." With that quiet farewell, she turns to deliver her dirty dishes, and then retreat once more into piles of fabric dyed ridiculous colours.
When: Early afternoon on day 10, month 10, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya and Kaida run into each other again over a late lunch, and actually have time to get know each other this time around. The two Igenites learn each other's histories.
It's a bit late for lunch, but there's still food out and it's still warm and smells delicious. There is, however, only one table: the caverns staff are making a grand sweep of things, cleaning off accumulated food spills and polishing every table but that one, where those unfortunate enough to be taking a late lunch must crowd together. Rhodya doesn't seem too unhappy about it, being far too excited about the sandwiches piled high on her plate. She's only just settled down with them, and lets out an "Mm-mm!" of approval after taking the first bite.
It might be easier, seeing that one crowded table, to just turn around and leave again. But she's less likely to get pounced on to mend someone's split trousers or something if she's in a work-free zone. So it is that with a mug of klah and a plate with two small sandwiches stacked one atop the other, Kaida approaches the table, eyeing the number of people a trifle dubiously. "Think one more can squeeze in here?" she asks, her rough voice quiet.
A general permissive murmur goes around the table, a habit they've collectively developed to welcome each new lunch-taker into the group. Only Rhodya, because she's new and hasn't learned the customs, answers with more than muttered assent: "Of course! Hey, I remember you. Have a sit." She bumps herself and her plate to the side, crowding her neighbor to the left but making more room for Kaida on the end.
The murmur would have sufficed, Kaida hadn't really even been properly looking at anyone closely enough to see if she recognised any of them. But Rhodya's more intelligable words receive a closer examination of grey eyes to face. And even a small smile, as the weaver slips into the bit of space, setting her plate and mug on the table. "The Igenite. From the ale tasting. I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."
Rhodya chuckles, bobbing her head in agreement. "That's all right, I ain't good at names myself. I just remember the Igen thing, and the voice." She gets all the way to lifting her sandwich to her mouth before she remembers to add, "I'm Rhodya. Brown Gedroth's." She pops her right shoulder, so that the weyrling knot sitting there wags a bit, doing her the favor of explaining that she's not a /full/ rider yet.
"Kaida," said woman replies. "Apprentice Weaver." No jiggling of her own shoulder; she wastes no extra motion, though that may be as much to avoid jostling Rhodya as her own propensity towards quietude. "I remember you saying, you're from the Weyr, right? Before you got called away. How long have you been gone?"
Rhodya smiles and nods enthusiastically, pleased that Kaida remembers something about her. "Gettin' on two turns now, so it's been a while. 'Fraid I don't remember where you're from - not the Weyr, I know, but if it was anythin' other than the main hold, well, it slipped me." She brushes a hand over her head, mimicking the path her memories must have taken to escape. "'Course if you had to go apprentice, you've probably been away from home longer than I have, huh?"
Kaida glances sidelong at Rhodya, waits until she's finished chewing her bite of sandwich before asking, amused, "You know, do you? And, how would that be?" A short, raspy chuckle. "Mm. Four Turns." Pause. "Actually... almost five, now. I apprenticed a couple Turns late because my parents weren't willing to let go. Can I ask what brought you here?"
Rhodya looks rather flummoxed by the question, and it's a pity Kaida waited until she was finished with the sandwich, because now she doesn't have any chewing to excuse her silence. "Uhm," she says instead, to take up time. "I thought you mentioned it, but I guess I might've made it up. You don't look familiar," she explains weakly, although maybe she shouldn't have tried. The weyrling rolls her gaze elsewhere - it doesn't matter where, the ceiling, the wall! - to escape the embarrassment, which keeps on coming. "Oh, well, I had a - a pretty nasty break-up, and I couldn't stand to be there anymore. So I came here." Beat. She looks back at Kaida with a wry, and reluctantly amused, smile. "Kind of makes me sound like a silly kid, doesn't it?"
"Sorry," Kaida says softly, looking away from Rhodya's embarrassment. Oh look, bread crumbs. The weak explanation does see her lips curving back into a small smile. "I didn't get a chance to, you left too quick. I am indeed from the Weyr, though it's not so unusual that we don't recognise each other. We probably just ran with different crowds." Her gaze is drawn back at the weyrling's admission of the break up, as again she murmurs, "Sorry." After a sip of her klah, "It was impolite, to pry. But I can understand, when a situation becomes unbearable. Sometimes it's easier to leave. There is nothing childish about knowing when to move on." Wow, they've dived right into the deep end, haven't they? "Clearly, you were meant to come here," with a nod at her shoulder.
Rhodya waves away the commiseration, wrinkling her nose about that break-up. "Don't have to worry about being impolite. He was a right jerk and I don't regret leavin' him, but then I sometimes think... that was my home, you know? And to let myself get driven out of it, because of him... I tell you there's times when I look back on it and gag. Not that I don't like Fort," she's quick to add, peering curiously at Kaida. "I won't make any more assumptions - just 'cause I haven't seen you here either doesn't mean you're new - but I don't want to seem like I'm off the place or anything. I really do like it."
Kaida listens with head tilted slightly towards Rhodya, using the opporunity of the other woman's words to finish off her own sandwich in quick, neat bites. "Things are clearer, maybe, when you're removed from the situation by distance or time, yes?" she finally asks. "Perhaps it is that if you hadn't left, things would have been worse, in the end. You can never know." She chances a glance across, eyebrows lifting slightly if she can make eye contact. "It's cold." Meaning Fort. "I wasn't posted here until this Turn, summer time. Not long after the hatching, I don't think. A few months. It's... odd. It's nice, being back in a Weyr, familiar. And yet, very different from home."
There is eye contact, so Kaida's raised eyebrows are met with a slanted grin. "Well, I can sort of know, 'cause I got Gedroth here and not there. That automatically makes it better. Well, I shouldn't look back," she decides, shaking her head. She pokes a loose piece of meat back into her sandwich. "I don't want to complain about somethin' that turned out to be lucky. It's been a good change. And the cold - well, it /does/ get cold, but don't let anyone talk you into takin' it seriously." The brownrider sniffs judgmentally. "Most of the complainers are folks from places like Ista," which she evidently scorns, "but you're Igen, so you'll get over it. What about it do you think's different? I mean, I agree, I'd just be interested to hear what strikes you. I've heard me talk on it already." She grins broadly.
Kaida grins a little bit, crooked as one side of her mouth is more inclined to a downward turn than upward. "That's a good attitude to have. The future is more interesting to look towards, anyway. More possibility, less finality." The sniff even coaxes a small chuckle out of the formal weaver. "I expect it will take me some to adjust, but I am hoping that it's not so bad as they claim. Boll was a wet, heavy heat, made it feel like I couldn't breathe at first, but I survived that well enough." She lifts her klah mug in a mock toast, "To the fortitude of Igenites." And the following swallow of warm liquid allows her some time to consider. "The tension, mostly. It's so... frenetic, here. Of course, I didn't arrive at the best of times, what with the whole fabric shortage that was happening. Maybe it's just the fuzziness of fond memories, though."
Rhodya's only got juice, but she happily exchanges the sandwich she's holding to take it and return the toast. She allows herself a moment to chuckle, looking down into her glass and giving it a contemplative swirl. "Well, I arrived a bit before the fabric problem, and that's what I thought and what I've been sayin' to people. So if we Igenites are makin' stuff up, at least we're consistent about it." She looks up, grins, and takes a quick sip of her drink. "How is it for a weaver, then, now the shortage is over? I'll bet folks are all over you gettin' their things made in time for the fall fashions." She chuckles again, shaking her head ruefully. Fashion!
"Maybe it's just those afternoon naps we miss so much, eh?" Kaida suggests, a touch more of something like a normal person entering her voice and expression. "I mean, working all through the daylight and having our evenings free? It's just unnatural." The mention of fashion brings a wry, but not unpleasant expression crossing her features. "Up until now, it's been mostly replacing things that saw a little too much wear. Mostly trousers, strangely." Brows quirking, sliding upwards under her bangs. Followed by a shrug as she apparently chooses to dismiss that little oddity. "There've been a lot of requests for new formal gear. Gather raiment. I'm looking forward to the winter just for that, I think. It'll be nice getting back to what I'm best at." All this talking about herself, yeesh! She does know one question that usually sets a dragonrider to babbling, though. "Tell me about Gedroth?"
Rhodya's present through the babbling, listening and bobbing her head - enthusiastically, when she mentions the napping. "I don't even know what they find to do all day," she tosses in, then subsides to listen some more about Kaida's work. ("Men don't know how to take care of their clothes," according to her, explains the wealth of trousers.) And then, as expected, she's cheerfully suckered into talking about her dragon. "Oh, he's /great/. I always thought havin' a male dragon in your head would be so weird, but he's just a perfect fit. He's so earnest about everythin', he always tells you what you need to hear - not what you /want/ to hear - and he works so hard it's made weyrlinghood a breeze. I ain't had to fight with him at all. Well." Her smile quirks impishly. "Mostly. He's a bit hard-headed," she admits, with that sappy fondness dragonriders all seem to display.
Kaida might have suggestions about what Fortians find to do all day, but her current mode of polite formality means they aren't going to exit her mouth. She does agree, with a mildly aggrieved air, about the inability of men to care for their clothing. At least, most men. For her part, it's rather attentive listening to Rhodya gush about her lifemate, her smile finding itself less likely to run away through all those starshone descriptors of the brown's character. "This is what I miss most about Igen," she notes after Rhodya's slipping into sappy fondness. "Many of my friends were - are - dragonriders. And never shy about sharing stories."
Rhodya pauses a beat, confused, then turns up a grin. "Does that count as sharin' stories, me telling you just how great he is? I'd figure the home-grown Fortian riders are just about as happy to brag about their dragons as I am. Though, of course, I'm happy to oblige." Her grin becomes broad again, though she's got her next sandwich lifted in front of it, obscuring it somewhat as she prepares to take a bite. "Any chance to talk about Gedroth."
"That's just the introduction," Kaida notes cheerfully. "The stories come later." There's a brief flicker of her gaze, a shadow of emotion there and then gone. "I think I've just been meeting the wrong Fortian riders. With the possible exception of T'rev, but he's not mentioned Mecaith much." Probably because she's never asked. Details. She glances around the cavern, then, trying to judge by the progress of the full-out table-clean how much time has passed. A sigh, as she starts to push to her feet. "I enjoyed this. It's nice to hear a familiar voice, as well as a friendly one. I hope we can talk again. Don't hesitate to drop by the crafter's workroom if you require anything."
"Don't think I won't," Rhodya warns, wagging a finger playfully at the weaver. "'Cause now you're both from Igen /and/ you're gonna let me gab on about Gedroth, which is just the recipe for gettin' me to hang around you all the time." She chuckles, picking up her final sandwich and giving Kaida a loose farewell salute with it. "Really, though, I had a lot of fun talkin' to you. We'll see each other around, for sure."
Strangely, that warning receives a long look, before Kaida smiles again, warmly. "I look forward to it, Rhodya. This has been very pleasant. Clear skies, for you and Gedroth both." With that quiet farewell, she turns to deliver her dirty dishes, and then retreat once more into piles of fabric dyed ridiculous colours.