Do not want
It is a spring afternoon, 15:57 of day 20, month 3, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Crafters' Workrooms, Fort Weyr
Nestled a bit out of the way to ensure relative peace and quiet are the crafters' workrooms, a series of volcanic bubbles designated for various crafts. Each bubble is outfitted with worktables and chairs, with cabinets and shelving available to store any supplies, works-in-progress, or completed goods. The rooms are very well-lit, though lanterns and glow baskets can be moved if need be.
There are a few small niches set aside with cots for those workaholics who are loathe to leave their work, curtained off for a bit of privacy. That aside, it's generally a busy place, though not as bustling as other areas of the Weyr may be; there's a constant sense of things being done, even if it's not quite as loud as one might generally expect.
Obvious exits:
Commons Cavern
Fort in the springtime can be truly charming: the blue skies, the gentle breezes, the bright sun. Even the inner reaches of the Weyr aren't immune to the turning of the seasons. The view might be the same Turn-round, but sunshine makes people cheerful no matter where they are. Of course, being anywhere near the Weavers tends to make B'kaiv grumpy no matter how sunny it is, and if the scowl on his face is any indication, Weavers trump Spring any ol' day. He gives the Weavers' enclave a once-over - the weaving apprentice nowhere to be found - before rapping imperiously on the counter. Well, thumping, really.
Spring and charming weather not only bring cheer, but giggling girls -- and women well past girlhood who /still/ giggle -- all a-flutter about the spring Gathers and oh, they simply /must/ have a splendid new outfit to wear! And in some cases, a matching outfit for an unfortunate spouse. The absence of anyone visible in the Weaver area will eventually be explained by a masculine complaint filtering from the back, "It's /pink/." Countered by a feminine scolding, "It's /sunrise/ and it matches my dress, you are /going/ to wear it." When the couple do emerge, she is looking smug and he is looking like he's just been asked to eat a plate of slugs. Hubbykins sets himself up for a good harranging as he gives B'kaiv a sympathetic, "Yours too, huh?" before his wife chases him out. Perhaps intentionally, Kaida doesn't make an appearance until the couple are gone, and she comes out with a bundle of pink fabric in her arms. "B'kaiv." Surprised more than irritated, when she discovers the source of the thumping.
There's a small squishy bundle under one of the greenrider's arms, and after the proximity to the Weavers, and the 'sunrise', and the exit of Mr. and Mrs. Pink, not only does Kai look like -he- would like a nice plate of slugs now please, but the bundle is about as squished as it can get without becoming two-dimensional. "You," is his return greeting to Kaida, with neither name nor title, just a curling of slug-strewn lips. "Don't want this," he continues, pulling the bundle free and rather triumphantly slapping it on the counter like he's beating dust out of rugs. It's a testament to someone's bundling skills that it's taken until now for the covering to come undone, one corner weakly curling back to reveal the fabric of a familiar replacement sweater. Perhaps Kaida can take some triumph, however? He is wearing the new blue shirt, after all, even if it's looking anxious and rumpled.
Kaida's lips thin as she presses them together, a slightly pinched look about her nostrils. Those must be some stinky slugs. Pink fabric is unceremoniously dumped onto a chair as she crosses over towards Kai and his squished package. Though it's his shirt that's getting an eyeing first, a disapproving one. /Rumpled/. Her gruff voice is made monotone as she aims to keep any sharpness out of it, "I see the fit is... adequate." Shifting her attention then, her brows twitch upwards slightly and she reaches out to pull that curling corner back a little further. "Why? Is there something wrong with it?"
If it could, Kai's shirt would probably crawl off his shoulders and back into Kaida's arms, whimpering. Save it! But no, he's got the cuffs buttoned, so it's not going /anywhere/. The greenrider folds his arms, denying both shirt's freedom and any chance of accidentally-on-purpose picking up the sweater again. Or having it stuffed into his hands. "Yeah. Don't want it, and I didn't pay for it. Weren't part of th' bet neither," he adds before she can try that angle. "I ain't gonna take no charity."
Alas for the imprisonment of helpless articles of clothing. "No," Kaida agrees after studying Kai's folded-arm stance for several moments. "/You/ didn't pay for it." She shrugs, clicks her tongue and adds in a regretful sigh. "Well, if you can't accept the gift, you'll just have to take it to stores."
Poor shirt! So close to freedom, so cruelly denied! B'kaiv really is heartless, isn't he. "Gift," he echoes disbelievingly, hazel eyes narrowing even as his chin comes up. "Who from? There weren't nothing in it about being no /gift/." Does he think she's lying? Why... yes, yes he does have that suspicion. "I ain't taking it nowhere, any road. You're th' Weaver."
He /would/ call her on it. Kaida's not so dumb as to try to sell a smile, given their particular history, so settles for an 'oh, come now' look instead. "Yes, gift. And it would hardly be appropriate for me to tell you if they've chosen to remain anonymous. I had assumed that you'd be made aware -- I'm certainly not required to attach notes on behalf of other people to a commission." Narrowing her eyes, her hands find their way to her hips. "Yes. I'm a Weaver. Not a drudge or errand girl, to run around disposing of your castoffs."
B'kaiv only snorts at her, one corner of his mouth twitching vaguely upward before giving it up as a bad go. That's all the amusement Kaida gets to see today. "You're lying. I don't know nobody as'd give me no sharding /sweater/." Besides which, Turnover was months ago! He takes a single step back for her gauntlet, chin lifting again. "Ain't /my/ castoffs. Ain't my sweater. You done good with th' shirt," if she were a puppy he'd floofle her ears, "and I been wearing th' clothes. But I -ain't- wearing /that/." Another step back, this time with a vehement nod at the sweater to punctuate.
"Fine. Believe what you want." Wait. Kaida's /not/ vehemently denying being a liar? The woman who bristles at the drop of a 'G' whenever B'kaiv's around? "But apparently you haven't been having them washed." /That's/ more like the woman he knows and dislikes. Good thing she isn't a puppy. He'd likely get bit. She picks up the wrapped sweater, giving his retreat a scowl. But she doesn't try to call him back or otherwise convince him that it's a perfectly good sweater -- there weren't even any cables! Easier than he thought it'd be?
B'kaiv will, so there! Hah! ...Wait, that wasn't much of a challenge. Perhaps he's distracted by her capitulation, or by the inclusion of laundry into their squabble. --Discussion. "Wash 'em when they're dirty," says he, eyeing the grey-eyed Weaver warily, uppermost hand plucking at his shirt to demonstrate what isn't. "'S got a few more days in it." Which might lead one to wonder how many days straight he's been wearing it so far? No, down that path madness lies. Again, "You done good," and again a nod, and it's an awkward leave taking at best, but this time Kai takes the exit offered, striding back down the cavern away from Sunrise and Pink and Giggling and Unwanted Sweaters. Oh, and Kaida.
Shells, makes my skin itch just to go down there. Don't see as how nobody can stand to be around none of them. Always fussing and poking. 'Sunrise'? Shells, s'just -pink-.
Crafters' Workrooms, Fort Weyr
Nestled a bit out of the way to ensure relative peace and quiet are the crafters' workrooms, a series of volcanic bubbles designated for various crafts. Each bubble is outfitted with worktables and chairs, with cabinets and shelving available to store any supplies, works-in-progress, or completed goods. The rooms are very well-lit, though lanterns and glow baskets can be moved if need be.
There are a few small niches set aside with cots for those workaholics who are loathe to leave their work, curtained off for a bit of privacy. That aside, it's generally a busy place, though not as bustling as other areas of the Weyr may be; there's a constant sense of things being done, even if it's not quite as loud as one might generally expect.
Obvious exits:
Commons Cavern
Fort in the springtime can be truly charming: the blue skies, the gentle breezes, the bright sun. Even the inner reaches of the Weyr aren't immune to the turning of the seasons. The view might be the same Turn-round, but sunshine makes people cheerful no matter where they are. Of course, being anywhere near the Weavers tends to make B'kaiv grumpy no matter how sunny it is, and if the scowl on his face is any indication, Weavers trump Spring any ol' day. He gives the Weavers' enclave a once-over - the weaving apprentice nowhere to be found - before rapping imperiously on the counter. Well, thumping, really.
Spring and charming weather not only bring cheer, but giggling girls -- and women well past girlhood who /still/ giggle -- all a-flutter about the spring Gathers and oh, they simply /must/ have a splendid new outfit to wear! And in some cases, a matching outfit for an unfortunate spouse. The absence of anyone visible in the Weaver area will eventually be explained by a masculine complaint filtering from the back, "It's /pink/." Countered by a feminine scolding, "It's /sunrise/ and it matches my dress, you are /going/ to wear it." When the couple do emerge, she is looking smug and he is looking like he's just been asked to eat a plate of slugs. Hubbykins sets himself up for a good harranging as he gives B'kaiv a sympathetic, "Yours too, huh?" before his wife chases him out. Perhaps intentionally, Kaida doesn't make an appearance until the couple are gone, and she comes out with a bundle of pink fabric in her arms. "B'kaiv." Surprised more than irritated, when she discovers the source of the thumping.
There's a small squishy bundle under one of the greenrider's arms, and after the proximity to the Weavers, and the 'sunrise', and the exit of Mr. and Mrs. Pink, not only does Kai look like -he- would like a nice plate of slugs now please, but the bundle is about as squished as it can get without becoming two-dimensional. "You," is his return greeting to Kaida, with neither name nor title, just a curling of slug-strewn lips. "Don't want this," he continues, pulling the bundle free and rather triumphantly slapping it on the counter like he's beating dust out of rugs. It's a testament to someone's bundling skills that it's taken until now for the covering to come undone, one corner weakly curling back to reveal the fabric of a familiar replacement sweater. Perhaps Kaida can take some triumph, however? He is wearing the new blue shirt, after all, even if it's looking anxious and rumpled.
Kaida's lips thin as she presses them together, a slightly pinched look about her nostrils. Those must be some stinky slugs. Pink fabric is unceremoniously dumped onto a chair as she crosses over towards Kai and his squished package. Though it's his shirt that's getting an eyeing first, a disapproving one. /Rumpled/. Her gruff voice is made monotone as she aims to keep any sharpness out of it, "I see the fit is... adequate." Shifting her attention then, her brows twitch upwards slightly and she reaches out to pull that curling corner back a little further. "Why? Is there something wrong with it?"
If it could, Kai's shirt would probably crawl off his shoulders and back into Kaida's arms, whimpering. Save it! But no, he's got the cuffs buttoned, so it's not going /anywhere/. The greenrider folds his arms, denying both shirt's freedom and any chance of accidentally-on-purpose picking up the sweater again. Or having it stuffed into his hands. "Yeah. Don't want it, and I didn't pay for it. Weren't part of th' bet neither," he adds before she can try that angle. "I ain't gonna take no charity."
Alas for the imprisonment of helpless articles of clothing. "No," Kaida agrees after studying Kai's folded-arm stance for several moments. "/You/ didn't pay for it." She shrugs, clicks her tongue and adds in a regretful sigh. "Well, if you can't accept the gift, you'll just have to take it to stores."
Poor shirt! So close to freedom, so cruelly denied! B'kaiv really is heartless, isn't he. "Gift," he echoes disbelievingly, hazel eyes narrowing even as his chin comes up. "Who from? There weren't nothing in it about being no /gift/." Does he think she's lying? Why... yes, yes he does have that suspicion. "I ain't taking it nowhere, any road. You're th' Weaver."
He /would/ call her on it. Kaida's not so dumb as to try to sell a smile, given their particular history, so settles for an 'oh, come now' look instead. "Yes, gift. And it would hardly be appropriate for me to tell you if they've chosen to remain anonymous. I had assumed that you'd be made aware -- I'm certainly not required to attach notes on behalf of other people to a commission." Narrowing her eyes, her hands find their way to her hips. "Yes. I'm a Weaver. Not a drudge or errand girl, to run around disposing of your castoffs."
B'kaiv only snorts at her, one corner of his mouth twitching vaguely upward before giving it up as a bad go. That's all the amusement Kaida gets to see today. "You're lying. I don't know nobody as'd give me no sharding /sweater/." Besides which, Turnover was months ago! He takes a single step back for her gauntlet, chin lifting again. "Ain't /my/ castoffs. Ain't my sweater. You done good with th' shirt," if she were a puppy he'd floofle her ears, "and I been wearing th' clothes. But I -ain't- wearing /that/." Another step back, this time with a vehement nod at the sweater to punctuate.
"Fine. Believe what you want." Wait. Kaida's /not/ vehemently denying being a liar? The woman who bristles at the drop of a 'G' whenever B'kaiv's around? "But apparently you haven't been having them washed." /That's/ more like the woman he knows and dislikes. Good thing she isn't a puppy. He'd likely get bit. She picks up the wrapped sweater, giving his retreat a scowl. But she doesn't try to call him back or otherwise convince him that it's a perfectly good sweater -- there weren't even any cables! Easier than he thought it'd be?
B'kaiv will, so there! Hah! ...Wait, that wasn't much of a challenge. Perhaps he's distracted by her capitulation, or by the inclusion of laundry into their squabble. --Discussion. "Wash 'em when they're dirty," says he, eyeing the grey-eyed Weaver warily, uppermost hand plucking at his shirt to demonstrate what isn't. "'S got a few more days in it." Which might lead one to wonder how many days straight he's been wearing it so far? No, down that path madness lies. Again, "You done good," and again a nod, and it's an awkward leave taking at best, but this time Kai takes the exit offered, striding back down the cavern away from Sunrise and Pink and Giggling and Unwanted Sweaters. Oh, and Kaida.
Shells, makes my skin itch just to go down there. Don't see as how nobody can stand to be around none of them. Always fussing and poking. 'Sunrise'? Shells, s'just -pink-.