[Fruit]s of labor
WHO: Saliqa and Leova
WHERE: Kitchen, HRW
WHAT: One for the trade, one for the scavenger hunt.
Scavenger Hunt: A piece of Non-Reaches fruit from Leova.
Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr
Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a day-to-day basis.
The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day.
Outside, the wind's whistling shrilly as it slides along the stone, but deep in the caverns as they are, it could be any day: dark or sunny, cold or summery. The greenrider takes the wind in with her, ruffled hair and chapped cheeks and a grin that just won't /leave/. Still, it's already settling into her stride as she half-turns, and then turns further, looking along the line of nooks.
Sitting with two thinly wrapped packages, one on top of the other, Saliqa is tucked into one of these kitchen crevices, enjoying a cold but complete meal thanks to the steady overflow of extras that can be snacked on around the room. She looks a bit weary, eager to be sitting, but she rises as soon as a check of the room spots not the same passers-by as usual but the wind-swept Leova. A hand settling on the top of the packages, the other raises to wave and then beckon the rider over.
Amber eyes catch that movement amid all the others, the dish-carriers and dish-washers, the to-ers and fro-ers. The greenrider casts a wave back at her, and then detours in less of a hurry if also not at a crawl: got to get a plate of her own, after all. Which she retrieves in short order. Fills. All the usual. And then she's over towards Saliqa's table, one hand on the back of the seat, just about to slide down. "Waiting long?"
"Not at all," Saliqa assures, a fact possibly affirmed by the amount of food still left on her own plate -- though it appears as though she didn't take /all/ that much to begin with. "I've been playing runner all day delivering messages. Got to scold a few fellows who I figured out were sending fake missives just to hassle candidates..." She slips back into her own seat with a smile in danger of becoming a smirk.
"Think that'll actually turn them off?" Leova asks once she's seated, once she's gotten plate on the table and gloves off, jacket off, scarf off into a pile beside her. "Some /like/ that sort of thing. Reactions." And with that, she's making her way into flatbread and the sliced meat-and-cheese she's wedged into it.
"Should," she answers, Saliqa picking at pieces of lettuce and teasing the idea of picking up several vegetables that she then abandons, "Doesn't mean /will/, but I did my part. Don't tolerate no nonsense." She forgets the food to instead draw the smaller package off the larger one, tucking this latter next to her on the seat and allowing plenty of table space for showing. "Besides, they like the reaction from me? Maybe they bother me, leave the others alone some."
The greenrider's gaze, when it lifts from her food, is speculative. The back-of-the-throat noise she makes, noncommittal. She swipes her mouth with the napkin she'd brought, glances at the package, then back at the petite candidate. Shifting the topic slightly, "Settling in all right? With the rest of them."
Saliqa hums thoughtfully as she peels the edges away from that smaller package, "I think so. Made a couple of friends, though through some unconventional means. It's all proving to be a learning experience." She considers this a second, then gives a more positive-themed nod. "The rumors, though? With that many people stuffed in a room?" And she clucks disapprovingly with her tongue.
"Never knew a holdgirl who didn't like rumors," Leova says with some amusement and a wiped-off crumb or two. "/Admitting/, now... Unconventional?" She's got her food to get through, after all, and Saliqa /is/ opening that package some. It's all good.
The disapproval hovers a bit sourly on her face, "Rumors are rude," Saliqa opines, "And often based on no fact whatsoever. I prefer truth and research, especially when it comes to buying and selling goods." Two fingers tap the top of that yet-not-quite unwrapped bit in front of her. "Unconventional as in... not from families getting together, or over shared interests. And two are convicts." So plainly delivered, she then attends her attention to fully undoing the paper-y wrapping.
"Ah. Well. Not as though you're planning on marrying them, hm?" The older woman's got a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, though she does add after a moment, perhaps to mollify that sourness, "Anyhow. Reckon I'd agree, folks can get up too much in each other's business." The first edge off, she leans back in her seat, sprawling an arm along its back in a way that minimizes their heights' couple inches' difference.
"Far too much," Saliqa adds agreeably, though a bit idly, as her attitude is now turned towards the grand unveiling of what Leova is likely waiting for. The unfolding eventually reveals two necklaces, laid side-by-side. Both made on durable but thin braided rope, they complement each other there together. While one favors darker blue beads, a few smooth-edged pieces of shell, and a large pendant near the bottom with a fish painted on-- the other features lighter blue, wavy clay shapes painted white, and the same round pendant, this one yellow with indents like rays of light along the top to suggest sunbeams. Both have identical trails of blue beads tailing from their pendant's bottom.
They get a narrow look, speculative rather than displeased. The greenrider wipes her hands but doesn't reach out to touch them, just yet. Instead, "Like them. One question: how hard would it be, swapping out the dark blue for the lighter? To give the fish one less... /contrast/." /Now/ she reaches, not too fast.
Saliqa says, "You mean, put the fish with the lighter beads?" Saliqa darts forward to lay pendants on top of each other, so that the two color beads can be seen next to each other with one pendant visible, but her hands retreat to let Leova do some touching afterwards. "Not difficult. Contrast makes it pop, though. And fits theme." Not argumentative, just helpfully suggestive."
"Right. But keep the shells instead of the waves." The thin braids move smoothly through Leova's callused hands, as she makes them cross each other in an X: separate, seeming to share the same center. "Let the sun, what did you call it, pop. Suireh likes to be quieter, I think."
"The sun will certainly do that with these two colors," The proud maker nods, seeming to derive pleasure just from watching the rider examine the pieces. Saliqa holds out, hands folded on the table edge for a few more moments, then she leans forward slowly, murmuring niceties as she draws the necklaces back to the paper and tucks one protective wrapping edge over them. "Perhaps in appreciation," she adds lightly, "You might show me what a non-Reachian fruit looks like."
That protectiveness doesn't go unremarked, and Leova's expression hints at her smile's return, though her lips retain a more casual curve. "Happy to," she says, turning to get at the bag tied to one hip. Only what she says is, "If you're still here later in the Turn, likely you'll get some here well enough. But /now/..." The revelation's a simple one, cupped in her hands as they lift above the table: a supple sprig of grapes, yellow-green and matte with the bloom not yet wiped off. "All the way from Southern," she says, her low voice a touch lower yet.
Even for the simplicity, Saliqa's lips hesitate very little before turning upwards into a bright, enthused smile at the grape's sight. "Been such snow and fog around here, nice to see something green," she explains. Her hands slide forward on the table but she pauses before getting all grabby. "Might I have a piece, too?" She asks, somewhat sheepish for her overly 'clever' subtlety before, "For the scavenger activity, of course."
A sidelong look: "Considering this," and Leova gestures towards what's wrapped up over there, "You may have the whole sheaf. Enough to eat... or share, if that's what you want." Given, even traded for some other favor, if the girl's inclined that way. Amber eyes regard her without judgement, as though these decisions could be written on Saliqa's face.
"Mmm!" Saliqa's happy sound is almost a word unto itself, not quite making it there as she holds out ready palms for this offering. There's only a brief shadow cresting over her eyebrows, pushing them down and weighing her smile into something flatter. "Oh, but," she pipes up, half-assuredly, as if this should be obvious, "There's others for other groups... aren't there?"
"When they find me," Leova says with an unhurried lift of one shoulder, like that could take /eons/. "Only had a couple, so far. Your group, is it going through pretty fast, any chance of finishing first?" She takes up what's left of her impromptu sandwich, only to pause and add with more overt humor, "And. You'll note, I didn't give you a moldy one."
Satisfied that she's somehow not stealing everyone else's chance when she plucks up the grapes, Saliqa transports them carefully to her side of the table then daintily sets them on top of the larger package at her side. "Shad and I split some things up, got to really grab the other girl soon. I... haven't really been watching the other groups. All's for fun, of course..." There's a glint of what is perhaps competition in her eyes, lending a false note to her too-polite response.
"Of course," Leova repeats with matching politeness, only then /she's/ letting herself smile. Before she really gets back into the last part of her meal, "Won, for our class. Though it was two of us then, 'stead of three: me and Niena. She's got blue Masoth now." And, after a moment, "Good luck." Perhaps not just about the hunt, or not /that/ hunt.
"Well, congratulations on all yours and her successes," Saliqa says with a bob of the head. Her hands coming to fold near her lap again, she first loosens fingers to tap pensively against each other. "Got another one of you where we could trade, but I don't think I've met a P'ax or a, what was it... Cecil? No. That's not it. A rider. C'sel! Yes. Him. Don't know him. Though you'd think any polite person would smile on meeting another."
"Rides Corvinth. Brown. Nosy. P'ax, he's got Yyth, spells it with two 'y's. Not sure why. Don't get too near her." And maybe it's the finger-tapping, but Leova presses her thumbs together and says after a moment, "Do you /want/ to Impress." And then, "Here."
"Nosy?" Saliqa echoes, apparently taking that the most out of everything. Then she eyes the ceiling as she rolls backwards to catch the rest of the description then forwards to hear about P'ax. Her conclusion is, "You seem to... identify them, by their dragons?" Her chin drops as she tries to eye Leova seriously through more naive curiosity. After that moment, though, she tenses very slightly. Plainly, "It'd be an honor. Anywhere."
"Suppose I do," says Leova, and thumb taps thumb all over again. "Suppose I do... Well. C'sel, he's real quiet. Doesn't say much. If you like babies, could ask him about his. And P'ax, he likely won't have much use for you. How's that?" She adds after a slow moment, "/Somebody's/ going to get the honor. Don't necessarily have to be you, who up and gets her life changed. Changed more."
Saliqa all but lights up again at the mention of babies, which smoothly answers that for her, and barely dims to hear that P'ax might be less agreeable. But she dismisses it easily enough with a small head-shake, "I think Shad said he knew P'ax anyhow," she informs, those hands making it to her lap and draping only the apron she wears on top of heavy skirts. "Then best of luck to all. But I should very much like to do well by my home, whatever turn that might be." Political, noncommittal. Nervous? Only barely around the edges, visibly.
"Convenient." Leova doesn't say more right at first, just listens. Only then, with that sideways smile briefly showing up again, "Careful of you. Well. I'd better get. Swapping out the beads, reckon that's likely to take long? Can leave them with the headwoman, if you're kept too busy to find me. And I thank you for doing it."
There's apparently no more to be said on Impressing, she only gives a placating smile for the pause. "Not long, I'm practiced and the design is all there," Saliqa assures later, straightening so that she's prepared to stand when Leova does, showing her respect but clearly still aiming to stay and finish the plate she's barely touched. Or at least push it around some more. "I'll do that. Thank you, too. A craftsman who doesn't keep practicing loses his trade."
A quick nod's followed by, "Don't want that to happen. Especially in Interval." The look Leova gives Saliqa is somewhat wry, but not apologetic. But then she glances at her own emptied dishes, and while there's a moment where she might have left them, in the end she leaves the nook as neat as she'd found it. Only the grapes are left, and the necklaces, to remember it all by.
WHERE: Kitchen, HRW
WHAT: One for the trade, one for the scavenger hunt.
Scavenger Hunt: A piece of Non-Reaches fruit from Leova.
Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr
Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a day-to-day basis.
The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day.
Outside, the wind's whistling shrilly as it slides along the stone, but deep in the caverns as they are, it could be any day: dark or sunny, cold or summery. The greenrider takes the wind in with her, ruffled hair and chapped cheeks and a grin that just won't /leave/. Still, it's already settling into her stride as she half-turns, and then turns further, looking along the line of nooks.
Sitting with two thinly wrapped packages, one on top of the other, Saliqa is tucked into one of these kitchen crevices, enjoying a cold but complete meal thanks to the steady overflow of extras that can be snacked on around the room. She looks a bit weary, eager to be sitting, but she rises as soon as a check of the room spots not the same passers-by as usual but the wind-swept Leova. A hand settling on the top of the packages, the other raises to wave and then beckon the rider over.
Amber eyes catch that movement amid all the others, the dish-carriers and dish-washers, the to-ers and fro-ers. The greenrider casts a wave back at her, and then detours in less of a hurry if also not at a crawl: got to get a plate of her own, after all. Which she retrieves in short order. Fills. All the usual. And then she's over towards Saliqa's table, one hand on the back of the seat, just about to slide down. "Waiting long?"
"Not at all," Saliqa assures, a fact possibly affirmed by the amount of food still left on her own plate -- though it appears as though she didn't take /all/ that much to begin with. "I've been playing runner all day delivering messages. Got to scold a few fellows who I figured out were sending fake missives just to hassle candidates..." She slips back into her own seat with a smile in danger of becoming a smirk.
"Think that'll actually turn them off?" Leova asks once she's seated, once she's gotten plate on the table and gloves off, jacket off, scarf off into a pile beside her. "Some /like/ that sort of thing. Reactions." And with that, she's making her way into flatbread and the sliced meat-and-cheese she's wedged into it.
"Should," she answers, Saliqa picking at pieces of lettuce and teasing the idea of picking up several vegetables that she then abandons, "Doesn't mean /will/, but I did my part. Don't tolerate no nonsense." She forgets the food to instead draw the smaller package off the larger one, tucking this latter next to her on the seat and allowing plenty of table space for showing. "Besides, they like the reaction from me? Maybe they bother me, leave the others alone some."
The greenrider's gaze, when it lifts from her food, is speculative. The back-of-the-throat noise she makes, noncommittal. She swipes her mouth with the napkin she'd brought, glances at the package, then back at the petite candidate. Shifting the topic slightly, "Settling in all right? With the rest of them."
Saliqa hums thoughtfully as she peels the edges away from that smaller package, "I think so. Made a couple of friends, though through some unconventional means. It's all proving to be a learning experience." She considers this a second, then gives a more positive-themed nod. "The rumors, though? With that many people stuffed in a room?" And she clucks disapprovingly with her tongue.
"Never knew a holdgirl who didn't like rumors," Leova says with some amusement and a wiped-off crumb or two. "/Admitting/, now... Unconventional?" She's got her food to get through, after all, and Saliqa /is/ opening that package some. It's all good.
The disapproval hovers a bit sourly on her face, "Rumors are rude," Saliqa opines, "And often based on no fact whatsoever. I prefer truth and research, especially when it comes to buying and selling goods." Two fingers tap the top of that yet-not-quite unwrapped bit in front of her. "Unconventional as in... not from families getting together, or over shared interests. And two are convicts." So plainly delivered, she then attends her attention to fully undoing the paper-y wrapping.
"Ah. Well. Not as though you're planning on marrying them, hm?" The older woman's got a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, though she does add after a moment, perhaps to mollify that sourness, "Anyhow. Reckon I'd agree, folks can get up too much in each other's business." The first edge off, she leans back in her seat, sprawling an arm along its back in a way that minimizes their heights' couple inches' difference.
"Far too much," Saliqa adds agreeably, though a bit idly, as her attitude is now turned towards the grand unveiling of what Leova is likely waiting for. The unfolding eventually reveals two necklaces, laid side-by-side. Both made on durable but thin braided rope, they complement each other there together. While one favors darker blue beads, a few smooth-edged pieces of shell, and a large pendant near the bottom with a fish painted on-- the other features lighter blue, wavy clay shapes painted white, and the same round pendant, this one yellow with indents like rays of light along the top to suggest sunbeams. Both have identical trails of blue beads tailing from their pendant's bottom.
They get a narrow look, speculative rather than displeased. The greenrider wipes her hands but doesn't reach out to touch them, just yet. Instead, "Like them. One question: how hard would it be, swapping out the dark blue for the lighter? To give the fish one less... /contrast/." /Now/ she reaches, not too fast.
Saliqa says, "You mean, put the fish with the lighter beads?" Saliqa darts forward to lay pendants on top of each other, so that the two color beads can be seen next to each other with one pendant visible, but her hands retreat to let Leova do some touching afterwards. "Not difficult. Contrast makes it pop, though. And fits theme." Not argumentative, just helpfully suggestive."
"Right. But keep the shells instead of the waves." The thin braids move smoothly through Leova's callused hands, as she makes them cross each other in an X: separate, seeming to share the same center. "Let the sun, what did you call it, pop. Suireh likes to be quieter, I think."
"The sun will certainly do that with these two colors," The proud maker nods, seeming to derive pleasure just from watching the rider examine the pieces. Saliqa holds out, hands folded on the table edge for a few more moments, then she leans forward slowly, murmuring niceties as she draws the necklaces back to the paper and tucks one protective wrapping edge over them. "Perhaps in appreciation," she adds lightly, "You might show me what a non-Reachian fruit looks like."
That protectiveness doesn't go unremarked, and Leova's expression hints at her smile's return, though her lips retain a more casual curve. "Happy to," she says, turning to get at the bag tied to one hip. Only what she says is, "If you're still here later in the Turn, likely you'll get some here well enough. But /now/..." The revelation's a simple one, cupped in her hands as they lift above the table: a supple sprig of grapes, yellow-green and matte with the bloom not yet wiped off. "All the way from Southern," she says, her low voice a touch lower yet.
Even for the simplicity, Saliqa's lips hesitate very little before turning upwards into a bright, enthused smile at the grape's sight. "Been such snow and fog around here, nice to see something green," she explains. Her hands slide forward on the table but she pauses before getting all grabby. "Might I have a piece, too?" She asks, somewhat sheepish for her overly 'clever' subtlety before, "For the scavenger activity, of course."
A sidelong look: "Considering this," and Leova gestures towards what's wrapped up over there, "You may have the whole sheaf. Enough to eat... or share, if that's what you want." Given, even traded for some other favor, if the girl's inclined that way. Amber eyes regard her without judgement, as though these decisions could be written on Saliqa's face.
"Mmm!" Saliqa's happy sound is almost a word unto itself, not quite making it there as she holds out ready palms for this offering. There's only a brief shadow cresting over her eyebrows, pushing them down and weighing her smile into something flatter. "Oh, but," she pipes up, half-assuredly, as if this should be obvious, "There's others for other groups... aren't there?"
"When they find me," Leova says with an unhurried lift of one shoulder, like that could take /eons/. "Only had a couple, so far. Your group, is it going through pretty fast, any chance of finishing first?" She takes up what's left of her impromptu sandwich, only to pause and add with more overt humor, "And. You'll note, I didn't give you a moldy one."
Satisfied that she's somehow not stealing everyone else's chance when she plucks up the grapes, Saliqa transports them carefully to her side of the table then daintily sets them on top of the larger package at her side. "Shad and I split some things up, got to really grab the other girl soon. I... haven't really been watching the other groups. All's for fun, of course..." There's a glint of what is perhaps competition in her eyes, lending a false note to her too-polite response.
"Of course," Leova repeats with matching politeness, only then /she's/ letting herself smile. Before she really gets back into the last part of her meal, "Won, for our class. Though it was two of us then, 'stead of three: me and Niena. She's got blue Masoth now." And, after a moment, "Good luck." Perhaps not just about the hunt, or not /that/ hunt.
"Well, congratulations on all yours and her successes," Saliqa says with a bob of the head. Her hands coming to fold near her lap again, she first loosens fingers to tap pensively against each other. "Got another one of you where we could trade, but I don't think I've met a P'ax or a, what was it... Cecil? No. That's not it. A rider. C'sel! Yes. Him. Don't know him. Though you'd think any polite person would smile on meeting another."
"Rides Corvinth. Brown. Nosy. P'ax, he's got Yyth, spells it with two 'y's. Not sure why. Don't get too near her." And maybe it's the finger-tapping, but Leova presses her thumbs together and says after a moment, "Do you /want/ to Impress." And then, "Here."
"Nosy?" Saliqa echoes, apparently taking that the most out of everything. Then she eyes the ceiling as she rolls backwards to catch the rest of the description then forwards to hear about P'ax. Her conclusion is, "You seem to... identify them, by their dragons?" Her chin drops as she tries to eye Leova seriously through more naive curiosity. After that moment, though, she tenses very slightly. Plainly, "It'd be an honor. Anywhere."
"Suppose I do," says Leova, and thumb taps thumb all over again. "Suppose I do... Well. C'sel, he's real quiet. Doesn't say much. If you like babies, could ask him about his. And P'ax, he likely won't have much use for you. How's that?" She adds after a slow moment, "/Somebody's/ going to get the honor. Don't necessarily have to be you, who up and gets her life changed. Changed more."
Saliqa all but lights up again at the mention of babies, which smoothly answers that for her, and barely dims to hear that P'ax might be less agreeable. But she dismisses it easily enough with a small head-shake, "I think Shad said he knew P'ax anyhow," she informs, those hands making it to her lap and draping only the apron she wears on top of heavy skirts. "Then best of luck to all. But I should very much like to do well by my home, whatever turn that might be." Political, noncommittal. Nervous? Only barely around the edges, visibly.
"Convenient." Leova doesn't say more right at first, just listens. Only then, with that sideways smile briefly showing up again, "Careful of you. Well. I'd better get. Swapping out the beads, reckon that's likely to take long? Can leave them with the headwoman, if you're kept too busy to find me. And I thank you for doing it."
There's apparently no more to be said on Impressing, she only gives a placating smile for the pause. "Not long, I'm practiced and the design is all there," Saliqa assures later, straightening so that she's prepared to stand when Leova does, showing her respect but clearly still aiming to stay and finish the plate she's barely touched. Or at least push it around some more. "I'll do that. Thank you, too. A craftsman who doesn't keep practicing loses his trade."
A quick nod's followed by, "Don't want that to happen. Especially in Interval." The look Leova gives Saliqa is somewhat wry, but not apologetic. But then she glances at her own emptied dishes, and while there's a moment where she might have left them, in the end she leaves the nook as neat as she'd found it. Only the grapes are left, and the necklaces, to remember it all by.