Who | Realilina, Kyara |
---|---|
What | After an awkward introduction, a friendship is forged. |
When | There is 1 turn 3 months and 9 days until the 12th pass. |
Where | Dustbowl Cantina |
Dustbowl Cantina
To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.
Realilina has sequestered herself in a quiet corner of the Dustbowl Cantina with an assortment of snack-y foods, two cups, and two decanters before her. She's fiddling with her shed headscarf, running fingers along the embroidery and humming to herself while she waits, ankles crossed to the side of her chair.
Realilina
With Realilina's slim build and short stature, it would be easy to mistake her for a woman in her early 20s or even late teens at a glance. Still, many years beneath the bright rays of Rukbat have begun to take their toll. When the corners of her rosy lips curl up, the suggestion of laugh lines grace her freckle-spattered cheeks, with just a tad of wrinkling next to her slightly inset hazel eyes. The freckles continue across her slender nose and down her honey-beige arms. Her shoulders are narrow, perhaps making her already generous bust a little more apparent in comparison. Sun-bleached dark blonde hair frames her heart-shaped face, cascading in gentle waves down past her slight waist to her generous hips. Her legs are proportional but not very long, still managing to be athletic if not exactly lean.
Without a doubt, Lina is dressed to take on the heat. A rich blue, button-up tunic dress of lightweight sisal clings loosely to her curves, boat-shaped neckline as immodest as she can get away with when watching 'brats. The sleeves fall just short of her wrists, and along the bottom, cuff, collar, and placket are all decorated with intricately embroidered ribbon of burnished gold along the hemlines. The dress falls to just above her ankles, but because the fabric of the dress is so gauzy as to be semi-transparent, she is wearing an equally lightweight ivory cotton slip underneath. The boots she wears appear to be her "old reliable", well broken-in weyrhide that hugs her calves. Her long hair is braided and wrapped around her hairline to form a crown, pinned firmly in place.
For the sake of being practical, her hair is wrapped loosely in an eggplant purple sisal scarf, also embroidered with what seems to be a musical score? and if you can read music, it is quite easy to realize that this isn't any proper teaching song. Oh no, this one's all Realilina original!
She is an adult of about 37.
It's a bit early for the Dustbowl to be busy, though there are a few people about when Kyara walks in, her expression inscrutable as she glances around. It was a firelizard that gave her the request to come…from Realilina, which she honestly was not expecting. Had the invitation come a day or two earlier, she might have simply ignored it. But with her mind considerably more settled than when she'd met Realilina earlier this sevenday, she comes to meet the woman under better circumstances…and perhaps to get a little more perspective. She spies Realilina in a back corner and approaches easily, a small, pleasant smile on her face as she gives a little salute. "Hello, Realilina," she greets evenly. "You…wanted to meet with me?"
Kyara
Kyara is a tall young woman of 5'9 with a strong, athletic build. Burnished strawberry blonde hair frames an oval face that tapers to a somewhat tall, narrow chin. Her almondine eyes, so light brown as to appear amber most of the time, peer out observantly from beneath dark, level brows. Her nose, having suffered two breaks over the past decade, is skewed slightly to the left. A tranquil, full-lipped line of a mouth lends itself easily to a thoughtful (or amused) smirk, and her light skin carries a subtle tan.
A long, sleeveless, deeply emerald shirt, cut elegantly and fitted to flatter, is cinched at Kyara's waist with a wide belt of rich brown leather. Black pants, also fitted and made of a light, more expensive fabric, descend into tall boots of the same color as her belt - somewhat formal looking and well cared-for, but practical and low-heeled. The tunic's neck, embroidered in amber-hued vinework, is wide and squared, low enough to reveal Kyara's collarbones and easily displaying the deep blue seashell pendant hanging about her neck. The same vinework pattern occurs along the shirt's hem and around the arm-holes. Her hair is partially tied back with a long green ribbon, matching the hue of her shirt. This simple yet comely outfit is designed to flatter and look pretty when Kyara wishes to look as much - without the trouble of a dress.
Kyara's knot consists of two cords - one gold and one black - looped once at her shoulder, twined with two thin ribbons of green, and secured with a bronze ring bearing a gold and black tassel. This marks her as the Wingleader of the Samyeli (Senior Weyrling) wing.
She is a teenager of about 19.
Despite expecting and even inviting her, Realilina nonetheless almost literally jumps out of her chair when Kyara greets her, headscarf falling to the floor in the process. Thankfully, she’s quick enough to put a hand down on the table to stop any residual effects from her knees hitting it, such as spilled wine or juice. “Kyara,” she breathes, a bit flustered, expression not completely unlike that of a deer in headlights. She takes a deep breath and a moment to compose herself, squaring her shoulders to set herself into a more confident posture. “Yes, hi, uhm. Yes, I did. Thanks for coming,” she pauses for a moment, trying to figure out what courtesy dictates as her next action. “Oh!” she exclaims as it hits her, and she gestures to the chair opposite the one where she was seated, “Please, sit down. I got us some little things to snack on, uhm, please, sit!” She follows the instructions herself, forgetting the purple scarf on the ground as she does so.
Kyara blinks and tilts her head veeery slightly in curiosity when it seems that her arrival startles Realilina a little. Could it be that the Harper woman is nervous, as Kyara is? For her part, Kyara thinks the only reason she doesn't seem more so herself has to do with having worked off so much energy from drills earlier. Her smile widens a touch, sympathetic - and perhaps a little amused. She is glad to have a chance to speak with Realilina…even though the memory of meeting her may never be a completely comfortable one because of Erikkhan, now. "Thank you," she says, taking the indicated chair. "For the food, too. It's always welcome, after a day full of drills and whatnot."
“Drills?” Realilina asks, banging her knee on the table as she settles down in her chair again, hissing, “Shards!” She looks up at Kyara rather bashfully, not really having worked off her own nervous energy. “Of course. I mean, dragonrider. Drills. And food, of course. Of course to that to, I mean,” she blurts out, followed by a frustrated, “Oh, fardles.” She puts a hand to her face, scrunching her eyes underneath it in an attempt to Pull. Herself. TOGETHER. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, really,” she apologises as she pulls her hand away, though her words are still rushed. “I… I just thought we should talk, is all. I’m sorry if I’m making this really uncomfortable.”
Eyebrows tick up and a slight grimace momentarily pulls down the corners of Kyara's mouth when Realilina bangs her knee, and then the woman's words do betray her nerves more than anything else. Kyara sighs, trying to exude calmness, and even calls Blaze to help a bit; her cheerful, curious gold is always happy to help, and proceeds to flap down to the table, crawling up to stand along the forearm that Kyara rests on the surface in Realilina's direction. Blaze croons at the Harper and chatters a little with a tone that is most certainly meant to reassure. "All respect, Realilina, I feel like I'm the one making you uncomfortable, here," Kyara says, a bit of a chuckle coloring the end of her words. "Don't worry; we can talk, and sort a few things, and it'll be fine! Don't let how I was at the lake throw you, if that's what it is at all. I wasn't at my best right then." At all.
Realilina takes a deep breath again, hand placed on her lap searching for something. She glances around and picks the scarf off the ground by her feet, managing to once again bonk a body part (this time it's the top of her head) on the table as she bends over to do so. Another expletive slips through her lips as she does so, though she settles the scarf one her lap once more, fingers of one hand going back to tracing over the staff and music embroidered upon it. She gives Kyara a wry smile as she shakes her head. "Maybe you're right," she agrees, following it up with a flustered, "I mean, oh, Faranth, that was rude…" In an attempt at reparation, she takes a piece of meat from the meatroll already half-eaten on her plate and offers it to Blaze. "I guess I've never… well, that is to say, this whole thing with Erikk, and the possibility that… it's just new to me, too, and…" She doesn't seem to be able to reach a conclusion with that thought.
As the Harper's head meets the table, Kyara bites her lips together; it's an expression that a silent "ouch" as much as it is her trying not to laugh, at this point - which she feels bad for. The only people she's managed to fluster in her life were the apprentices she had briefly when she was a Journeyman, and some of her current wingmates. As to Realilina's reply… One thing about Kyara is that she is, generally speaking, quite hard to offend, and does not take the Harper's words as such. Blaze happily accepts the bit of meat with a happy chirp and sits on the corner of the table near Realilina to contentedly consume it. "The possibility that…?" Kyara lets that hang as a question with an encouraging inflection, curious for some elaboration.
Realilina is more than a bit distracted at this point, and she’s gone back to humming what could be assumed to be the music stitched onto the scarf she’s compulsively tracing over. Keep it together. Her hand jerks a little bit when Blaze takes the piece of meat, almost forgetting that she had offered it to her. Having a brood of her own, her fingers gladly find the flizzard’s eyeridges and she scritches away. “That, well, it could be not just Us,” meaning Reali and Erikk, “but Us and… well, you know, you’ve met Erikk, you know how he is, always…” Her hand leaves Blaze’s head to gesture something vague in the air. “He’s Erikk. I know that he’s always going to be like this, and curse me for wanting him anyway.” She sighs, a sigh of both frustration and ‘the things we do for love’.
There a touch of sadness that creeps into Kyara's eyes, and the weyrling's gaze falls to the tabletop briefly as she ponders. "To be completely honest, Realilina," she says of the end of a sigh, reaching out to stroke a finger along Blaze's tail while the Harper scritches - oh, the little queen is heaven, now! - "I don't think I ever really let myself have a notion of how Erikk is. When it comes to men," and here, she gives a small, self-deprecating smirk, "I'm about as daft as they come. You see…I am more or less…shall we say…'innocent,' when it comes to matters of the heart. Never even been kissed." She shrugs, shaking her head. "Flirting with Erikk in the Mirror Cavern made me feel things I'd never experienced before, and distracted me from asking me some questions of him that I should have. I had no idea you were in his life, and I had no idea that he preferred not to be…exclusive. And it absolutely dumbfounded me to find out about both." She rubs her neck as a bit of former tension creeps back in, but she smile sadly at Realilina. "I thought I stood a chance…but I never could have - not with my inexperience, and not with my views and ideals of how I want my first times at things to be. Aside from what confuses me about Erikk, I believe he has a good heart, and if you and he are happy together…then I pray you are, for a long, long time. I like seeing people happy together." A lopsided smile, here, though still on the sad side. "I'm a terrible romantic, you see."
Kyara’s words seem to strike a very old, deep chord with Realilina, something surfacing in her expression that, if Kyara knew Lina better, might be identifiable, especially when she gets to the end of her statement, when she begins to looks absolutely crushed. “Kyara, I…” She takes another steadying breath, before replying in that voice between laughter and tears, “That’s what I told my apprentice. Fifteen Turns ago, when she and Erikk… That’s what I told her. That as long as they were happy together, it was okay. Even if it hurt me.” She seems to finally be pulling herself back into one piece, though, as the next time she speaks it’s much less emotional, and she’s finally stopped tracing the embroidered score under the table. “Erikk’s sweet and loving and caring, but he’s also a hopeless flirt who honestly can’t /not/ be. He’s wonderful and funny and so incredibly, incredibly frustrating to an extent that you wouldn’t believe. And one thing he is for sure is confusing.” An actual smile graces her lips, causing her cheeks to dimple. “And experience has nothing to do with it. He has a habit for going for, well… the naive, to put it bluntly. You seem to be a very nice and attractive young woman, been-kissed or not. And yes, this is really complicated. Shards and shells, just ME in a relationship with Erikk is complicated. I just don’t want you to…” She holds out another piece of meat for the firelizard as she considers what to say, finally settling on, “I don’t want to have the same thing that happened to me happen to you, and if you’re willing to pursue something with him, as long as it’s with the understanding that I’m still in a relationship with him, I guess… I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m okay with it, really. I resigned myself to the fact that he’s never going to be happy with ‘just one’ a long time ago.”
As Kyara takes in what Realilina is saying, her eyes fill very, very gradually as she lets it sink in. She's quiet for a long moment afterward, regarding Realilina with an even, grateful gaze past the tears. "Has he truly always been as he is?" she asks, taking a moment to choose her next words carefully. "He mentioned to me…that he been ready to marry someone, once. How does a person go from that to…always wanting more than just one? I don't understand." She sighs, and then starts laughing quietly - an odd juxtaposition to her brimming eyes. "You know…there's part of me that's frustrated with myself for even getting upset over him, because I'm a rider. We can't be exclusive to anyone because of what happens during flights; it isn't fair to our lifemates, or to whoever we might pick. So part of me knows it's foolish of me to want that from someone, as if it would truly make a difference my first time around. As attracted as I am to Erikk, that part of me is screaming at me to just let it go and be willing, as you say. And the other side of me, the side that grew up in the Harper Hall and followed the examples and ideals my parents set, wants to stick to rules being enforced by no one but myself, really… It's such a strange line to walk, this edge between the…'freedom' a rider has in this, and the ingrained bindings of being craftbred. I haven't reconciled the two yet." A few tears escape, but she makes no motion to wipe them away, and Blaze comes over to rub her head against Kyara's cheek, crooning quietly. "I suppose the bottom line for me, right now, is this: I am mad at myself for not being more careful, and frustrated with Erikk for not telling me a few things. I need to talk to him…if I get up the nerve for it ever again. I still have some figuring out of myself to do, and I have no idea what might come up in the future where he is concerned. But whatever may come," and here, she reaches for Realilina's hand to touch it - a gesture given in warmth, should it be accepted - "I am very grateful that you've taken the time to talk with me and help me understand him a little more." Now she does wipe at the tears that have come free, smiling at the Harper. "And I'm sorry we were introduced the way we were, and I'd very much like to get to know you better!"
“You have to understand, Kyara, that it him being married or not has nothing to do with it,” Realilina replies with a small smile, tone patient, “Even if he was married, he would still flirt with anything semi-attractive with breasts.” Or perhaps even without, but she leaves that bit unsaid. There’s a small laugh at Kyara’s dilemma, but it’s not unkind—it’s a laughing of knowing all too well what she’s talking about. “I was holdbred and grew up in Harper Hall, and even knowing him for so long, it’s still, well, I still have my days with him. And I understand how you could be mad and frustrated with yourself, and especially since you’ve never really been in an intimate situation, and your heart was hurt in the process. It’s okay to feel though things, but please don’t blame yourself. Erikk has a way of sweeping pretty maidens off their feet.” If Kyara will let her, she’ll grab the hand she reached out and give it a small squeeze before pulling away again. “I’m glad you took the time to meet with me, as well. Like I said, you’re obviously a very nice young woman. You said you grew up in Harper Hall, as well. Were you previously a Harper?” She inquires, happy to move the subject from Erikk for now.
Kyara blinks, letting that one roll around in her head for a few moments. "So…" she starts, drawing the "s" out slightly as her eyes find the tabletop for a moment in thought. "Some people are just…naturally outrageous flirts no matter what, and that…doesn't change, no matter what or who that person is with." It's said as a statement rather than a question; it seems this is a concept Kyara is just coming to understand, poor girl. In spite of a few things to the same effect told her by others already. "And he's one of those." She sighs, sitting back a little and dragging a wrist across her eyes. She gives Realilina a small smile; it's easier said than done, not blaming herself…but she will try. "Alright. Alright." She accepts the squeeze of her hand, then nods, also happy to change direction a bit. "I was a Junior Journeyman before I Impressed. Walked the tables about a Turn before ending up at Ista Weyr, in the past." A final fluttering blink to clear the last moisture from her eyes, and she flashes a small grin. "I'm a composer. Always will be, even as a rider."
Realilina just nods in agreement to the summary of What Has Been Learned. “I know, I know, it’s not that easy. Just try, okay?” At the mention of composition, the still-Harper lights up like a Klahmas Tree, an exclamation of excited surprise slipping through her lips. “My focus is composition, along with performance and crafting of woodwinds,” she states with a goofy grin. Oooh, have you gotten yourself out of the frying pan and into the fire, my dear. The hand that’s found its way back to her lap draws the headscarf up with it, showing her the ‘score’ of golden threads, explaining with a wry smile, “I got bored while watching ‘brats. I haven’t been reinstated, official, yet. What kind of music do you like to write? Instrumentation? Favorite key signature?”
Another nod is given, another sigh drawn, and Kyara decides she is about as settled as she can be with this. For now. Realilina's revelation of herself as a fellow composer serves to even Kyara out even more; there's even a glint about her eyes that is in no way tear-related. She did notice the scarf, earlier, and is glad to be shown it a little closer, eyes automatically taking in melody and counter, mind giving sound to what she reads as she sees it. She laughs at the small torrent of questions. "Harp and low whistle are my favorite instruments. I love writing for strings, but I also liked to experiment with…unconventional groupings of instruments. That drove my journeymen insane, when I would do that." She looks a little far off, remembering those nearly mythic-feeling days as she feels a happy, humid mind-touch from Liareth; her lifemate loves this topic. "My…'claim to fame' was a set of humming tunes I wrote as a senior apprentice project. Came out of an argument I got into with a senior journeyman about how humming could be just as emotionally effective as outright singing. He might never have agreed with me…but when the tunes started getting around the Holds…" She shrugs, smirking. Maybe she's a little proud of this. "Well, music will speak for itself, when it's real. Doesn't matter who penned it. I just count myself fortunate that it came through my hand."
Leaving the scarf sitting on the table, for your reading pleasure m’lady, Realilina grabs one of the decanters and fills up her own glass, politely inquiring, “Would you like some redfruit juice, or some wine, maybe?” She happily fills Kyara’s glass with either the current pitcher, full of juice, or the other, practised ease in the motions, the sharp contrast between her usual grace and how she was flailing about earlier becoming truly apparent. “Harp is a good one, something I tend to favor myself, as a matter of fact. String instruments are so beautiful, but it’s unfortunate we get so little wood of sufficient quality or quantity to produce more!” She nudges the plate of munchies towards her, grabbing a little piece of meat to offer to the pretty flitter on the table again. She absolutely loses it at the story of the humming tunes, managing to retort when she can breathe again, “You sound like you were a handful, too! Music is really something beyond, well, just speech. That’s fortunate for me, because I’m /dreadful/ with lyrics. You have no idea.”
Kyara shakes her head, grinning. Perhaps she was a bit of a handful back then. Ah, if those apprentices and journeymen she used to butt heads with could see her now… Well, they probably wouldn't go near her, come to think - now that she has Liareth. That would be an entertaining reaction to observe! Kyara accepts the juice, commenting on the issue of lyrics. "Lyrics aren't easy, but I eventually got the hang of them. Maybe the bit of stage player training I decided to take up helped with that…" And so the conversation between the two music-minded women goes for some time - a good, stable point to meet at, at least. And perhaps, a friendship is forged. Even if the starting point has proven to be an exasperation for them both - for different reasons.