==== November 30th, 2013
==== Mayte, Kyara
==== Friends chat about how things were and how things are in light of the influx of refugees.

Who Mayte, Kyara
What Friends chat about how things were and how things are in light of the influx of refugees.
When Evening. There are 7 months and 3 days until the 12th Pass.
Where Living Cavern, Igen Weyr


Living Room
Dim light from hanging glow-globes cannot fully camouflage the ravages of time and neglect on Igen's busy living caverns, though hints of its former glory peek through in the decorative cuts to the cave's natural limestone and the high quality of dusty, tatty-ended tapestries. Here and there, skybroom tables — stained dark by wood finish and a decade of grime — sit in loose groups, flanked by wicker chairs with pointy, broken rattan that pokes out to invariably find unprotected skin. The seemingly randomly placed furniture, however, at closer inspection, forms a sort of cross-shape of negative space. At the northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns, a long buffet table with tarnished lazy susans hosts an array of finger-foods and pitchers for the interested, refilled occasionally by drudges that shuffle in from the curtained entrance to the south, beyond which lies the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside and, across from that, to the west, a set of rattling doors that open to reveal the tunnels and stairs of the inner caverns themselves.

It's one of those cool, clear evenings that tantalizes with promises of a glorious, warm summer to follow. The air has a fresh scent to it; Rukbat's dipping close to the horizon casts a beautiful contrasting glow against the few traces of cloudy fingers that dust on the roads has kicked up. In recognition of this promise, many people make their dinners 'to go' or at least brief, intent on making the best of the evening whatever way they will. That means fewer people in the Caverns, which means that Mayte has secured a nice square space, all to herself, with a plate, a mug of klah, and a book in front of her, which she annotates occasionally, looking up at new entrants suspiciously from time to time, especially if they make noise.

In contrast to the many taking their dinners to go, Kyara is decidedly not; she's seen quite enough of the outdoors from both the sky and ground levels today, thank you very much. Still in leathers, her jacket pulled open and her face still ruddy from flying, she is content to shoulder open the cavern door, make a beeline for the food, and search out a place to sit. Thank Faranth it's less crowded this evening; she probably wouldn't stand the noise very well right now. It's after a yawn that she barely manages to stifle behind a cup-bearing hand that she happens to glance over and spot Mayte, who she gives a little smile to. "Hey Mayte. Mind another?" she questions tiredly. "If I'm not interrupting, of course."

Despite the greenrider entering quietly, Mayte does look up in time to spot her, giving a brisk nod whether the other sees it or not immediately. At least Mayte knows you're here. While Kyara's getting whatever she wishes to eat, the Vintner starts clearing away her own hides and gives Kyara a grin upon her approach, "No, not at all." That spot on the table? Mayte cleared it specifically for her friend Kyara. No other applicants required, thanks. "You look a bit…" um, how does one frame this politely, "Well-worked." See, not worn, but definitely not ne'er-do-well. "W'rin been working you hard?"

Grateful, Kyara sets her plate and cup down carefully, then sits rather heavily in contrast. There's a slow, relieved exhalation from the greenrider, and she chuckles at Mayte's observation, taking a drink. "Yep," she replies with a grin of her own and a stretch of her neck, which pops a bit. "Always. Stack a sweep, a watch, and a run down to Southern on top of what he put us through in drills this morning and…yeah. Well-worked covers it nicely today." Some food taken, she glances at Mayte's book before asking, "How're you doing? You look like you're in the midst of something, yourself."

"Sounds like a lot," Mayte agrees quietly, unable to resist answering with a stretch-and-crack of her own neck: it's catching, of course. The vintner looks almost confused by Kyara's description, "So you did a sweep, a watch, and a trip to Southern? On top of Drills?" Who's crazier, W'rin or Kyara? Mayte doesn't try to answer this: gently pushing her book further out of the way, "Just calculating crops. When we have a good tally of how many vines did well over the winter," and this is when Mayte gets a bit too into her subject so with effort, she dials herself back: "Anyways, we should have plenty of wine for the next few Turns." Good news for everyone. Speaking of greenery, Mayte wonders cautiously, lowering her voice, "We… we won't have to get rid of the vines for Thread, will we?" Given the recent Thread preparation that's started and all, the Vintner girl is looking suitably nervous.

Nodding with each item on the list Mayte names off, Kyara replies, "I did. Well…the trip to Southern was probably a bit much, but I volunteered to make that run. It's not unheard of to have the other three all on the same day. Happens maybe once every other sevenday. It just happened to be my turn." The greenrider smiles for the Vintner's involvement in her subject, giving a quiet laugh at the news about wine. "Good to hear," she says, and then Mayte's question has her shaking her head. "No. It's the unnecessary greenery that needs getting rid of, not the things that people's livelihoods depend on. I'm betting you might have to ask the Smiths to help you come up with a shielding for the vines that can cover them during a Fall, but no, you keep them." She regards the apprentice thoughtfully after that, sympathetic as she deduces the root of the question. "The Bazaar's working on clearing green already?"

Mayte looks a little relieved that the trip to Southern was considered extra, but she hmms, "And… when do you fly those… wing formations?" The slightly faint sound of Mayte's memory tripping up is all W'rin's fault: he showed her once and tried to explain them to someone whose troops stay firmly planted in the ground. As any vintner dubs grape vines as a necessity, Mayte looks entirely relieved (almost pale with it), until Kyara's question on the Bazaar's involvement. Oh how exposure has caused rifts and wariness: the apprentice looks a bit uncertainly around before replying quickly, "I know there's been talk of preparations." Mayte's eyes grow wide as she continues, "Just, you know, for the new denizens of the Weyr." Just in case anyone should think Mayte's a tattletale.

Mayte looks a little relieved that the trip to Southern was considered extra, but she hmms, "And… when do you fly those… wing formations?" The slightly faint sound of Mayte's memory tripping up is all W'rin's fault: he showed her once and tried to explain them to someone whose troops stay firmly planted in the ground. As any vintner dubs grape vines as a necessity, Mayte looks entirely relieved (almost pale with it), until Kyara's question on the Bazaar's involvement. Oh how exposure has caused rifts and wariness: the apprentice looks a bit uncertainly around before replying quickly, "I know there's been talk of preparations." Mayte's eyes grow wide as she continues, "Just, you know, for the new denizens of the Weyr." Just in case anyone should think Mayte's a tattletale.

Tilting her head slightly at her friend, Kyara smirks as she catches the undertone of confusion to Mayte's question. "It's the bulk of what we drill. Those formations. 'Til they become burned into our minds, so they'll be like a reflex when we have to use them against Thread." The reaction to her question about preparations has the greenrider's brow furrowing slightly. "Just for the refugees?" she asks quietly, pushing some vegetables around with her fork as she thinks a bit. "I mean, it does make sense to me, to have them working if they're going to stay here…but I figured everyone would be pitching in. Or," she adds quickly, glancing up from her plate at Mayte again, "maybe they are. I wonder…" She cuts herself off, a number of interesting ideas coursing through her mind before she shakes her head, frowning a bit. "Sorry. The way things divide the Weyr from the Bazaar sometimes still gets me. Even after a couple Turns, and learning some things from Maryam and We'bey and N'thu…I still don't understand why something like Thread prep ought to be secretive between the two." She shrugs lightly, taking another drink as she gives Mayte an apologetic look. "Though I suppose it does have to be quite different, between them. Rider outlook versus civilian outlook." Her expression indicates a certain level of resentment about the necessary difference.

Mayte huhs quietly, her nod still bemused, but she'll accept it for what Kyara says it to be, "Okay." As for the…newcomers, the non-rider shrugs a little uncomfortably, "Well, anyone who needs it." That's what the meeting message was, right? Studying Kyara's vegetable movement, Mayte sips her klah mug surreptitiously. A child of her time, Mayte still doesn't look entirely happy with the division herself, "You're from Before, right?" that's little question, "It wasn't like this before, right?" Though Mayte's expression isn't resentful, it's tense: "With a different place for trade in a Weyr?" And since the Bazaar is there now, "What would we do now?" With the too-recent memory of the latest Weyrwoman in mind, an answer is never simple.

Kyara nods at the first of Mayte's questions, leaning back in her seat a little and stretching her legs out somewhat, crossing her ankles. "Well…" she says, rubbing her neck, "as far as I can tell, no. It wasn't. I was a Harper before, so I wasn't around the Weyrs much, but I do know that Igen didn't have the Bazaar back then. When I got posted to Ista Weyr, before coming forward…if people wanted to trade, they'd do it with the caravans, or barter with the posted Crafters - there or at Ista Hold. All the Weyrs survived on tithes from the Holds under them; they didn't really have anything like the Bazaar." Mayte's last puzzles Kyara a little, and the greenrider gives yet another tilt of her head. "What do you mean? Like if the Bazaar wasn't around, what would be done?"

An Igen without a bazaar is a thought to behold, in this young Vintner's mind: "Trading and bartering at Gathers, you mean?" The impermanence of Gathers puts a slightly discontent look on Mayte's face, but arguing with history is asking to lose before you start. "Like… did people come swarming in like this to the Holds and Weyrs when a Pass started? Were they all willing to work?" It sounds so easy and reasonable, but even young Mayte is starting to realize the magnitude of the problem.

"Not just at Gathers," Kyara explains, giving a small shake of her head. "The roads were plenty full of people traveling between Hold, Weyr, and Hall for trade and barter. I ran into plenty on journey before my posting, bartering news and music for whatever I might need from those on the road, myself. Interaction. Communication. Always a certain degree of risk involved…but that's true about anything." The greenrider takes a long moment of thought over Mayte's next question, tapping a finger against her lips. "Well, you have to understand, Mayte - I was born in an Interval, too, so I can't say firsthand how it was. None of us can, really, except for a few down at Southern, I hear. All I know is what I learned about passes from the history I studied as a Harper. The Holdless, the renegades, they had their ways of dealing. Some who were willing to work did seek refuge, yes. Igen's Caves were always used during the Passes, for as long as records went back, really. What happened there, to drive all these people to us, is a definite deviation from what we knew. I don't think anything like this has really happened before." Regarding the Vintner steadily, Kyara is quiet for a moment more before asking quietly, "You're pretty worried about this, aren't you?"

Mayte purses her lips, nodding a little, "That's… one of the things I wasn't looking forward to, if I hadn't been posted here," she says quietly, but that's not nearly as interesting as, "You were born in an Interval?" Well knock me flat on my ass and call me a sandsnake. Mayte is clearly stunned by this, but at least Kyara knows more: "At least they taught you stuff like this," Mayte grouses a little, but listens further, thoughtfully, "Were they turned away elsewhere?" she wonders thoughtfully, before snapping out of her thoughts at the greenrider's question: "Um. I just," an uncomfortable shift, "I'm worried about where everyone will go," Mayte admits, "Will we have enough food?" After a faintly cheeky grin, she adds, "Enough wine?"

The reaction to Kyara's revelation about being born in an Interval earns Mayte a grin and a bit of a laugh. The greenrider sobers again quickly, thinking again. "Some Holdless were without a Hold because they were banished, for various reasons. Sometimes they would be turned away, yes. It wasn't a common practice, especially during the Eleventh Pass, from what I understand, but," she shrugs, "political games have always been played without regard for people's lives since before people even stepped foot on Pern, I'd imagine. Some Holders would cling to that rather than be compassionate, so people would have to move on and…hope to find somewhere that didn't know their lot, or a natural shelter from Thread." With a sigh, she admits, "I'm worried, too. I think that's the order of the day around here, really. I'm concerned about advantage being taken on both sides, honestly. That's what people do. But I think we'll pull through like we always do, find a way to keep the food in supply." Then she grins. "And I'm sure you and Eollyn will keep the wine supply well in hand."

Politics - such a strange word. "Huh. Politics aren't polite at all," Mayte observes, which demonstrates why she does better with wine than words, "Where could they go, if not for the caves?" And that, perhaps is what the Bazaarfolk are thinking of, but Mayte unaccountably doesn't mention that, a canine with two masters. "Well, I haven't seen anything so far," she says cautiously with a forcibly hopeful smile. That the wine supply is entrusted to her and her journeywoman gets a wider, slightly more mischievous grin, "If you keep Thread off the vines, we'll keep wine in supply," Mayte promises cheekily, and then she gets a sly look to her eyes, "I just want a quiet space to sleep in at night. Well, about as quiet as Kalligon ever gets." Fellow apprentices. Sheesh.

With a chuckle, Kyara agrees. "'Polite' is to politics as 'decent' is to deception," she states. Let's see how Mayte handles that one. "Meaning 'totally unrelated,' more or less." Oh dear. Someone let the former Harper out to play with words again. The greenrider flicks her wrist in a dismissive gesture and gets back on track. "Good that you haven't seen anything so far, though. Hopefully it'll stay that way. They came to us because they didn't have the caves anymore. I think getting people to work on the Abandoned Caverns in order to shelter in them isn't unreasonable, but…I don't know. Building can always be done I suppose, but we've only got so much space. And with such tight quarters, going into the Pass… All we can do is wait and see what happens, and hope people's better natures prevail." As for the wine, Kyara gives a pointed nod. "Deal," she answers, grinning. "And I don't blame you for wanting a quiet sleeping spot. Faranth, I do not miss apprentice dorms. Or the barracks, for that matter. Having a weyr to myself is nice, I'll tell you." Then, though she almost doesn't say it, she adds, "But maybe that's something you'll get to see for yourself at some point."

Mayte is not the dimmest glow in the basket: she appreciates the comparison for what it is with a moment's thought to connect it, "That sounds exactly like politics, but more like… grown-up politics." A wrinkle of Mayte's nose, "At least at Vintner Hall, you could tell who was talking about you behind your back." AS for the Abandoned Caverns, Mayte brightens a little, "They're looking into that? Neat!" She doesn't come out and take credit (which she probably shouldn't), but there's a satisfied look on her cheeks for a moment, before realizing it might not be enough. VTOLs, foiled again. "Damn," she sighs, one hand scruffing through her still-short hair. Kyara's deal gets an answering grin and a tight nod back. As for the potential of her own sleeping place, Mayte gives a slightly… awkward huff, "Maybe. Maybe next time, right?" Since Mayte's not about to run off to Eollyn and ask to Stand this clutch. A shy little grin and Mayte leans closer, ensuring no one's around to hear, "It was really neat, last time, though. On the Sands." No matter how loud W'rin got.

Kyara has an approving smile over the rim of her cup for Mayte before she takes a drink, a slow shake of her head her only indication that she's moving on from the topic of politics. "They might be; I don't know for certain," the greenrider says of the caverns. "I've got good ears, but I still don't hear as much as I'd like. Bottom of the hierarchy and all that," she says with a slight snort of resentment. When Mayte leans forward, Kyara follows suit almost reflexively; it's a topic still worth keeping hushed. "I know it," she says, her smile subdued as she glances at Mayte's short hair and gives another shake of her head. "You just about shocked the life out of me that day, you know. Can't say I wasn't a little smug over all that, no matter what some people," like W'rin, "thought. I just wish…things hadn't gone south so fast afterward." Her brow furrows for a fleeting moment over the memory of all that happened later, but it's quickly gone, replaced by a secretive smirk. "But yeah. Maybe next time. And next time, you won't have to hide. You can stand out there with all the rest, no hiding necessary."

Mayte's lips press together but that can't help the curl of grin, two friends-in-arms complaining about how adults are soooo bogus, man: "It was really crazy," she returns, "And even if I didn't Impress," though that's said with some melancholy, Mayte cheers up, "I wouldn't undo it." The events after… well, Mayte's grin droops slightly, into a serious look, "I… Yeah." Swallow. Looking Kyara in the eye, Mayte nods, not quite able to master that grin again: "I'd like to not hide out there again. Though," a tousle of her own short hair, Mayte adds, "I kinda like the hair." Alright, there's that cheeky grin again.

Laughing lightly, Kyara reaches out and gives Mayte's hair a brief ruffle of her own before she downs the last of what's in her cup. "Good for you. I hated it when we were required to cut ours after Impression," she says, wrinkling her nose at the memory. Presently, she's gathering utensils together upon an empty plate, pushing her back from the table a bit. "Well, I'd better get out of all this dusted-up gear and head for the baths. Maybe sleep after that. Or maybe I'll see about a drink at the Dustbowl, then sleep." She looks toward the entrance with a remotely expectant look, shakes her head a bit again, and then stands up. "Thanks for letting me come invade for a bit, Mayte."

Mayte snorts a little and shakes her head under Kyara's ruffling hand, "At least you didn't have to look like a boy while doing it!" The greenrider's news of departure gets a blink, "Oh." Mayte blinks at Kyara's clothes, a wrinkle of her nose, "A long bath, maybe?" And that wrinkle turns into a sly smirk, "Maybe try some soap too?" What are friends if not for teasing? "Have a great evening then. Thanks for sitting down!" The remote look from Kyara doesn't get a second glance; Mayte is used to another greenrider with vaguely the same expression, "My greetings to your dragon, too!"

Kyara doesn't have hands free to do anything else and therefore sticks her tongue out for a second at her friend, which quickly morphs into a mischievous grin. "I'll take it under advisement," she counters. Another momentary vagueness slips through her gaze and the grin becomes something warmer. "Liareth says hello back. She likes you pretty well, you know." With a sigh, she pushes the chair back in with her foot. "See you later." Then off she goes to discard her dishes before slipping out to erase some of the wear of the day.

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