Log: Awkward Conversation with Illya
Who: P'draig, Illya
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
When: Late morning, day 6, month 7, turn 14 of the 10th Interval
What: Paddy and Illya bump into each other and the conversation is very awkward.
Inner Caverns(#944RJ$)
Lower than the Living Cavern above, this room is still a large, bustling place. Hearths heat some of the areas here, allowing elderly and ill residents to rest here rather than mount the steps to the Living Cavern above. Rooms open out to the storerooms, the children's areas, the private rooms of staff members and some of the residents. Laundry rooms and bathing areas down one set of stairs draw near-constant traffic throughout the day.
Two long corridors lead off of here, one to the east and one to the south, going to the 'crafter' and 'staff' hallways respectively. Noise drifts out from the curtain to the northeast that leads to the residents dorms, and a small bubble cavern to the north leads to the 'resident hallway'. A short flight of stairs to the west leads back to the Living Caverns.
With her hair still wrapped up in a towel, Illya is heading out of the bathing cavern and off in search of food. her riding jacket is held in one hand, the other holding her ever-present journal. It would be apparent, if you're used to looking at her, that there's been some attempt made to lose weight her shirt is a little looser than previously, and her belt appears to have had a couple of new securing knots tied in it.
Babyless, P'draig is headed in the opposite direction from Illya, bearing a bundle of laundry. He looks a little tired around the edges, but not nearly as haggard as he did a month or so earlier. The spark's back in his eyes at least and there's the hint of a spring in his step. As he rounds the bend, the brownrider looks up, eyes fastening on the greenrider almost instantly and he pauses, uncertain, then continues on a path to intercept. "Good day, Illya."
Illya's steps falter, though any other reaction to his appearance is hidden under a mask of quiet neutrality. "Weyrlingmaster." She nods politely, stepping to one side to let him pass. The movement would have possibly looked a lot more casual has she not immediately dropped her gaze to the floor.
The use of his title brings a flash of hurt to P'draig's eyes and his fingers flex in the bundle of laundry. Rather then moving around her, he leans against the wall, trying to look down into her face. "How are you?" Asked quietly and without a correction about his name.
Illya takes a moment or two to come up with an answer that's suitably neutral. "Damp." it's followed by a rather hollow, mirthless laugh and an even more formal, "You're well I hope?" As she asks, she glances up and then very quickly back down again, but the sincerity behind the question shows for a brief second -- she really does hope.
"So I see." P'draig risks light teasing and smiles brightly in that brief moment when she looks up. "I am. Well. The weyrlings are coming along, no big problems except for ... well Xenoth. But even he's improving. Um. And Palia's just growing by leaps and bounds. She rolls over and pushes around a little on her stomach now. Not crawling, but she can play now a little." His voice dies and he swallow the sudden lump in his throat. "You're all right?"
"Good. That's... good." Illya replies, lifting her head again. "And... I'm good too I guess. So..." A quick pause as she tries to straighten her towel on her head again, before she adds another, "Good." The towel begins to slip down once more and she tugs it off, taking a couple of steps back so she can rearrange so that the towel is around her shoulders underneath her now shoulder-length hair.
"Yeah." Pause. Long pause and Paddy clears his throat before continuing. "Um ... you look nice. Good, I mean." His free hand starts to sneak out towards damp hair then drops away. "So ... just the usual going on? Drills and so on?" Oh neutral chit-chat.
"Thanks." Illya replies, her own hand going to her hair for a moment, "I've been meaning to get it cut again, never quite find the time." Another laugh, still forced and lacking humour. "Mostly drills. Drills and fall, then more drills, sometimes I sleep." She tries a quick smile on for size, but it fades quickly. "How're the weyrlings? Must be growing pretty fast."
"Could stop by if you like. I've still got the weyrling shears around." Another weak joke from P'draig and he shifts his laundry bundle from hand to hand. "It's good you're getting enough sleep." He offers that neutrally too, though his jaw works a little. "Like I said, coming right along. They've a few more months to full-grown, but starting to flame and everything. Between training starts in a month and a half or so."
Illya is quick to shake her head, "Thinking I might head home on my next rest day, my grandmother likes doing people's hair. Says it keeps her young." Another faint smile follows, lasting a little bit longer this time before it fades. "Not be long till you're back..." Back free? Back having a life? She quickly decides on, "waiting for the next clutch. Have you... um... I mean, are you planning anything for after graduation?"
"Oh well y'know, that'll be nice, see your grandmother. She'd do a better job anyway." P'draig fiddles with the drawstring that keeps the laundry bag closed. "Hmm?" Puzzled before the break in the sentence, his confusion clears as she continues. "Oh, well, yeah, not that much time left. After they get tapped, I think I'll go up High Reaches way with Palia. Spend some time with my parents and my siblings."
Illya nods again, "Good. You need some time for yourself at last. Deserve it." She pauses, dropping her gaze back down to the floor again, then eventually just closing her eyes.
"More like family time." P'draig's voice is quiet again and he swallows audibly. "I um ... well just ... have Azath let Jekzith know if you'd like to stop by sometime. Palia's all set up in my weyr with her nurse. I'm sure she'd love to see you. And the weyrlings are moving out of the Barracks now." The words die off and he looks up as she looks down. His hand reaches out again, slowly, fingers to brush against her cheek lightly.
Illya reaches up to move P'draig's hand away, though despite her best intentions her own hand betrays her and curls around his wrist. When she looks up again her icy facade is cracked, a little of the truth showing through. "Is it always going to be like this? So... awkward?"
P'draig's wrist is caught and his thumb lingers briefly along her jawline, then he curls his fingers away from her face and shifts his hand to hold hers lightly. She could pull away easily. "I hope not." His eyes meet hers, a little sad, but with warmth for her still in them. "I guess we're just both being really careful. That's all."
Illya nods, not entirely trusting her voice to begin with. She glancs down at their hands, still joined, then back up at P'draig's face. "Can I have a hug?"
P'draig's laundry bag drops promptly to the floor and his hand tightens on hers and the brownrider pulls Illya right in for a hug without even answering otherwise.
Illya's arms wrap quickly around P'draig, head resting against his chest. It takes a while for her to recover enough that she can eventually step away a little, but at least now the slight smile that has appeared seems to be a little more permanent. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I've been needing that."
His arms stay put, squeezing lightly, but P'draig releases her easily enough when she steps back. "Hey y'know, free hugs, available readily with a little advanced warning." He tries for teasing lightly again though, the offer's sincere. "Seriously, if you want to stop by, even if it's just to flop in my office for a bit, come down, Illya. As long as I don't have a weyrling or one of the assistants in there, door's pretty much open."
Illya nods, her whole demeanour a little easier - for the time being at least. "I figured it was better to keep away for a bit, then the one time I did come to speak to you I sort of wimped out and left. Azath's been missing Jekzith too."
P'draig bends to pick up his laundry bag again and makes a little face. "Yeah, he chased some other green, but I think he lost because ... well he's hers, there's no doubt about that. And well, I didn't really want him to catch that particular green too much. Heh." A wry sort of grin passes across his face. "Don't wimp out next time?" The suggestion is made lightly, fondly.
"I'll try?" Illya offers with a little smile, "Can't promise, though. You know how fickle we women are." it's a vague attempt at a joke, but at least it's an attempt, "Who did he chase?"
"Okay," P'draig's smile is jauntier now and he laughs a little. "No more fickle than some brownriders?" More lameduck joke attempts and he clears his throat to go on. "Er, T'mic's Aath at Ista."
Illya blinks for a moment, trying to place then name. Something clicks and she grins. The grin soon builds t a chuckle, and from a chuckle to a full blown laugh. "Now there's a flight you would probably have paid to lose. Horrible little man." Oh yes, she remembers him.
P'draig ducks his head a little, hand scruffing through his hair. "Yeah, well, can't lose 'em all?" The corners of his mouth curl up again and the brownrider shrugs. "Just as glad he didn't. I've no idea what I'd have said to him in the morning."
"I need to be somewhere else?" Illya offers, "Or you could just use the old fashioned scream and run approach?" There's a brief pose, a thought lurking that she doesn't quite voice yet. "So... do you think you're going to get some time away from the weyrlings before the graduation?"
"With T'mic, I think that might just work. I don't think he likes me much." An honest assessment and perhaps understated from P'draig. "Away? I don't know about away, though y'know, I get rest-days just like everyone else. R'us is very good about spotting for me when Palia needs me. I've gotten the odd night away." Something else unspoken in his words too.
Illya nods, "Well I've got a couple of days off soon so if you wanted to get a proper break I could look after things here? Next sevenday maybe?" Her mind clicks on, running with the idea now that it's been formed. "Just you and Jekzith for a bit? Somewhere nice?"
P'draig blinks a few times, eyes growing serious now on Illya's face. "You'd like to take Pali for a bit?" This actually seems to make him happy, something like hope in his face. "I wouldn't complain about an extra day or two."
"Palia." Illya corrects quietly, then nods. "I could if it meant you getting away for a while. You'd like that, right? Away from here for a bit?"
P'draig colors a little. "I talk goofy talk to her sometimes. "Pali's got itty bitty toes ... Pali's got an itty bitty nose ... um ..." he breaks off blushing a bit more. "If you want to, I would like that. Though ... maybe sometime we could still go somewhere together."
Illya is quick to shake her head again, "I... don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. Besides, any time we go places together it always seems to end in a fight of some kind. Or me waking up feeling like the entire feeding herd is stampeding through my head." There's a slight wince at the memory of both hangover and argument. "But you could get away. Away's nice. Quiet. Relaxed." Internally she adds - Not near Azath if I'm reading the signs right - which causes her smile to falter for a second.
"Oh, okay. Yeah, no ... no problem. Though ... maybe .. I mean ..." he stumbles all over the words and P'draig's eyes drop again. He stops, takes a deep breath. "It doesn't have to be that way, Illya. But sure. I get that. More time. No problem. And yeah, day or two up with my folks or just down on the beach."
"I know." Illya replies after a moment or two, "You're a hard habit to break, Paddy dear." There's another little laugh, trying to make the confession into a joke at her own expense. "It's barely been a month, if we startgoing placs together again then it'll still feel like a date and... you know what I mean, right?"
P'draig's gaze flicks back up to her face and his own smile is a little pained in response. "I'm sorry ... and you're right. Yeah. I guess better to let things settle a bit longer. Until it feels like friends again." Of course, the fact that he's looking at her with a hint of puppy-dog to him probably doesn't help, but then he's bending to heft the laundry bag up again. "I should ... go get Palia's diapers clean. Make sure she's got all her cutest outfits ready for her Mama."
There's a little softening, of both expression and resolve, at P'draig's look. "Soon. Hopefully." She pauses then adds, "I miss you." A quick pause and she nods, "I should get back before I dry into a ball of hair. Getting too long to just leave alone otherwise it gets ideas. I'll let you know when my rest days are?"
"Sure, sure. Just --" he breaks off and smiles. "Yeah. Me too. I miss you too." P'draig's mouth opens to speak again, then he just shakes his head, letting the thought rest. "Yeah. You go take care of that and I'll take care of this and I'll see you soon, d-- Illya."
Illya reaches out, and just manages to turn a stroke aimed at his cheek into a gentle rub of his arm. "Take care, Paddy." She gives a little smile as she moves off, though her shoulders have slumped a little by the time she reaches the living caverns and one of the poor drudges is on the receiving end of a growl by the time she's reached the exit to the bowl.
P'draig's got that look on his face again as her hand starts to aim for his cheek and detours to his shoulder. "You too, Illya." He starts off the way he was going, laundry in tow, though he looks back over his shoulder to watch her go and nearly bowls a resident over in the process. It's thus that he misses her growling at the drudges. There's a mumured apology from him to the person he almost beaned and it's a far more thoughtful P'draig who emerges from the laundry a little later, opting to head for the baths himself.
Where: Inner Caverns, Fort Weyr
When: Late morning, day 6, month 7, turn 14 of the 10th Interval
What: Paddy and Illya bump into each other and the conversation is very awkward.
Inner Caverns(#944RJ$)
Lower than the Living Cavern above, this room is still a large, bustling place. Hearths heat some of the areas here, allowing elderly and ill residents to rest here rather than mount the steps to the Living Cavern above. Rooms open out to the storerooms, the children's areas, the private rooms of staff members and some of the residents. Laundry rooms and bathing areas down one set of stairs draw near-constant traffic throughout the day.
Two long corridors lead off of here, one to the east and one to the south, going to the 'crafter' and 'staff' hallways respectively. Noise drifts out from the curtain to the northeast that leads to the residents dorms, and a small bubble cavern to the north leads to the 'resident hallway'. A short flight of stairs to the west leads back to the Living Caverns.
With her hair still wrapped up in a towel, Illya is heading out of the bathing cavern and off in search of food. her riding jacket is held in one hand, the other holding her ever-present journal. It would be apparent, if you're used to looking at her, that there's been some attempt made to lose weight her shirt is a little looser than previously, and her belt appears to have had a couple of new securing knots tied in it.
Babyless, P'draig is headed in the opposite direction from Illya, bearing a bundle of laundry. He looks a little tired around the edges, but not nearly as haggard as he did a month or so earlier. The spark's back in his eyes at least and there's the hint of a spring in his step. As he rounds the bend, the brownrider looks up, eyes fastening on the greenrider almost instantly and he pauses, uncertain, then continues on a path to intercept. "Good day, Illya."
Illya's steps falter, though any other reaction to his appearance is hidden under a mask of quiet neutrality. "Weyrlingmaster." She nods politely, stepping to one side to let him pass. The movement would have possibly looked a lot more casual has she not immediately dropped her gaze to the floor.
The use of his title brings a flash of hurt to P'draig's eyes and his fingers flex in the bundle of laundry. Rather then moving around her, he leans against the wall, trying to look down into her face. "How are you?" Asked quietly and without a correction about his name.
Illya takes a moment or two to come up with an answer that's suitably neutral. "Damp." it's followed by a rather hollow, mirthless laugh and an even more formal, "You're well I hope?" As she asks, she glances up and then very quickly back down again, but the sincerity behind the question shows for a brief second -- she really does hope.
"So I see." P'draig risks light teasing and smiles brightly in that brief moment when she looks up. "I am. Well. The weyrlings are coming along, no big problems except for ... well Xenoth. But even he's improving. Um. And Palia's just growing by leaps and bounds. She rolls over and pushes around a little on her stomach now. Not crawling, but she can play now a little." His voice dies and he swallow the sudden lump in his throat. "You're all right?"
"Good. That's... good." Illya replies, lifting her head again. "And... I'm good too I guess. So..." A quick pause as she tries to straighten her towel on her head again, before she adds another, "Good." The towel begins to slip down once more and she tugs it off, taking a couple of steps back so she can rearrange so that the towel is around her shoulders underneath her now shoulder-length hair.
"Yeah." Pause. Long pause and Paddy clears his throat before continuing. "Um ... you look nice. Good, I mean." His free hand starts to sneak out towards damp hair then drops away. "So ... just the usual going on? Drills and so on?" Oh neutral chit-chat.
"Thanks." Illya replies, her own hand going to her hair for a moment, "I've been meaning to get it cut again, never quite find the time." Another laugh, still forced and lacking humour. "Mostly drills. Drills and fall, then more drills, sometimes I sleep." She tries a quick smile on for size, but it fades quickly. "How're the weyrlings? Must be growing pretty fast."
"Could stop by if you like. I've still got the weyrling shears around." Another weak joke from P'draig and he shifts his laundry bundle from hand to hand. "It's good you're getting enough sleep." He offers that neutrally too, though his jaw works a little. "Like I said, coming right along. They've a few more months to full-grown, but starting to flame and everything. Between training starts in a month and a half or so."
Illya is quick to shake her head, "Thinking I might head home on my next rest day, my grandmother likes doing people's hair. Says it keeps her young." Another faint smile follows, lasting a little bit longer this time before it fades. "Not be long till you're back..." Back free? Back having a life? She quickly decides on, "waiting for the next clutch. Have you... um... I mean, are you planning anything for after graduation?"
"Oh well y'know, that'll be nice, see your grandmother. She'd do a better job anyway." P'draig fiddles with the drawstring that keeps the laundry bag closed. "Hmm?" Puzzled before the break in the sentence, his confusion clears as she continues. "Oh, well, yeah, not that much time left. After they get tapped, I think I'll go up High Reaches way with Palia. Spend some time with my parents and my siblings."
Illya nods again, "Good. You need some time for yourself at last. Deserve it." She pauses, dropping her gaze back down to the floor again, then eventually just closing her eyes.
"More like family time." P'draig's voice is quiet again and he swallows audibly. "I um ... well just ... have Azath let Jekzith know if you'd like to stop by sometime. Palia's all set up in my weyr with her nurse. I'm sure she'd love to see you. And the weyrlings are moving out of the Barracks now." The words die off and he looks up as she looks down. His hand reaches out again, slowly, fingers to brush against her cheek lightly.
Illya reaches up to move P'draig's hand away, though despite her best intentions her own hand betrays her and curls around his wrist. When she looks up again her icy facade is cracked, a little of the truth showing through. "Is it always going to be like this? So... awkward?"
P'draig's wrist is caught and his thumb lingers briefly along her jawline, then he curls his fingers away from her face and shifts his hand to hold hers lightly. She could pull away easily. "I hope not." His eyes meet hers, a little sad, but with warmth for her still in them. "I guess we're just both being really careful. That's all."
Illya nods, not entirely trusting her voice to begin with. She glancs down at their hands, still joined, then back up at P'draig's face. "Can I have a hug?"
P'draig's laundry bag drops promptly to the floor and his hand tightens on hers and the brownrider pulls Illya right in for a hug without even answering otherwise.
Illya's arms wrap quickly around P'draig, head resting against his chest. It takes a while for her to recover enough that she can eventually step away a little, but at least now the slight smile that has appeared seems to be a little more permanent. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I've been needing that."
His arms stay put, squeezing lightly, but P'draig releases her easily enough when she steps back. "Hey y'know, free hugs, available readily with a little advanced warning." He tries for teasing lightly again though, the offer's sincere. "Seriously, if you want to stop by, even if it's just to flop in my office for a bit, come down, Illya. As long as I don't have a weyrling or one of the assistants in there, door's pretty much open."
Illya nods, her whole demeanour a little easier - for the time being at least. "I figured it was better to keep away for a bit, then the one time I did come to speak to you I sort of wimped out and left. Azath's been missing Jekzith too."
P'draig bends to pick up his laundry bag again and makes a little face. "Yeah, he chased some other green, but I think he lost because ... well he's hers, there's no doubt about that. And well, I didn't really want him to catch that particular green too much. Heh." A wry sort of grin passes across his face. "Don't wimp out next time?" The suggestion is made lightly, fondly.
"I'll try?" Illya offers with a little smile, "Can't promise, though. You know how fickle we women are." it's a vague attempt at a joke, but at least it's an attempt, "Who did he chase?"
"Okay," P'draig's smile is jauntier now and he laughs a little. "No more fickle than some brownriders?" More lameduck joke attempts and he clears his throat to go on. "Er, T'mic's Aath at Ista."
Illya blinks for a moment, trying to place then name. Something clicks and she grins. The grin soon builds t a chuckle, and from a chuckle to a full blown laugh. "Now there's a flight you would probably have paid to lose. Horrible little man." Oh yes, she remembers him.
P'draig ducks his head a little, hand scruffing through his hair. "Yeah, well, can't lose 'em all?" The corners of his mouth curl up again and the brownrider shrugs. "Just as glad he didn't. I've no idea what I'd have said to him in the morning."
"I need to be somewhere else?" Illya offers, "Or you could just use the old fashioned scream and run approach?" There's a brief pose, a thought lurking that she doesn't quite voice yet. "So... do you think you're going to get some time away from the weyrlings before the graduation?"
"With T'mic, I think that might just work. I don't think he likes me much." An honest assessment and perhaps understated from P'draig. "Away? I don't know about away, though y'know, I get rest-days just like everyone else. R'us is very good about spotting for me when Palia needs me. I've gotten the odd night away." Something else unspoken in his words too.
Illya nods, "Well I've got a couple of days off soon so if you wanted to get a proper break I could look after things here? Next sevenday maybe?" Her mind clicks on, running with the idea now that it's been formed. "Just you and Jekzith for a bit? Somewhere nice?"
P'draig blinks a few times, eyes growing serious now on Illya's face. "You'd like to take Pali for a bit?" This actually seems to make him happy, something like hope in his face. "I wouldn't complain about an extra day or two."
"Palia." Illya corrects quietly, then nods. "I could if it meant you getting away for a while. You'd like that, right? Away from here for a bit?"
P'draig colors a little. "I talk goofy talk to her sometimes. "Pali's got itty bitty toes ... Pali's got an itty bitty nose ... um ..." he breaks off blushing a bit more. "If you want to, I would like that. Though ... maybe sometime we could still go somewhere together."
Illya is quick to shake her head again, "I... don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. Besides, any time we go places together it always seems to end in a fight of some kind. Or me waking up feeling like the entire feeding herd is stampeding through my head." There's a slight wince at the memory of both hangover and argument. "But you could get away. Away's nice. Quiet. Relaxed." Internally she adds - Not near Azath if I'm reading the signs right - which causes her smile to falter for a second.
"Oh, okay. Yeah, no ... no problem. Though ... maybe .. I mean ..." he stumbles all over the words and P'draig's eyes drop again. He stops, takes a deep breath. "It doesn't have to be that way, Illya. But sure. I get that. More time. No problem. And yeah, day or two up with my folks or just down on the beach."
"I know." Illya replies after a moment or two, "You're a hard habit to break, Paddy dear." There's another little laugh, trying to make the confession into a joke at her own expense. "It's barely been a month, if we startgoing placs together again then it'll still feel like a date and... you know what I mean, right?"
P'draig's gaze flicks back up to her face and his own smile is a little pained in response. "I'm sorry ... and you're right. Yeah. I guess better to let things settle a bit longer. Until it feels like friends again." Of course, the fact that he's looking at her with a hint of puppy-dog to him probably doesn't help, but then he's bending to heft the laundry bag up again. "I should ... go get Palia's diapers clean. Make sure she's got all her cutest outfits ready for her Mama."
There's a little softening, of both expression and resolve, at P'draig's look. "Soon. Hopefully." She pauses then adds, "I miss you." A quick pause and she nods, "I should get back before I dry into a ball of hair. Getting too long to just leave alone otherwise it gets ideas. I'll let you know when my rest days are?"
"Sure, sure. Just --" he breaks off and smiles. "Yeah. Me too. I miss you too." P'draig's mouth opens to speak again, then he just shakes his head, letting the thought rest. "Yeah. You go take care of that and I'll take care of this and I'll see you soon, d-- Illya."
Illya reaches out, and just manages to turn a stroke aimed at his cheek into a gentle rub of his arm. "Take care, Paddy." She gives a little smile as she moves off, though her shoulders have slumped a little by the time she reaches the living caverns and one of the poor drudges is on the receiving end of a growl by the time she's reached the exit to the bowl.
P'draig's got that look on his face again as her hand starts to aim for his cheek and detours to his shoulder. "You too, Illya." He starts off the way he was going, laundry in tow, though he looks back over his shoulder to watch her go and nearly bowls a resident over in the process. It's thus that he misses her growling at the drudges. There's a mumured apology from him to the person he almost beaned and it's a far more thoughtful P'draig who emerges from the laundry a little later, opting to head for the baths himself.