Who

Ryott, Tziporah

What

Two Zingari teens meet while in line to fetch water
Backdated

When

It is evening of the first day of the ninth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Around the Cistern

OOC Date 08 Apr 2018 04:00

 

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Around the Cistern

The cisterns are the beating heart of the Bazaar, where life-giving water is drawn but more importantly where residents may come together to gossip. There's often a line at each and that provides ample opportunity to chat with one's neighbors. Children dash about over the cobblestones surrounding each immense well, firelizards swoop by overhead and laundry is often hung on racks on the periphery- still more excuse to linger and catch up on what's happening in Igen today.


Even though it is evening, the heatwave that's gripped Igen means that many people waited until Rukbat set to make their way to the public cisterns to replenish their water supplies. Much easier to wait in a line without the sun beating down on you. So the line up is quite long, but is moving steadily, the noise a low din as people use their time queueing to catch up on gossip with one another. Clad in an black tank top over matching black wherehide shorts that fall loosely to her knees with a gauzy charcoal scarf wrapped over the stiff brush of her shorn dark hair, Ryott is slinking casually along with the line, looking completely nonchalant with her lips pressed in her usual neutral mien. As ever though, the quiet spyling is listening intently, catching snippets of conversation and subtly shifting her place in line to get closer when she hears something particularly juicy.

Do the hustle, the waterboard shuffle, whatever random dance about the Cistern floats one's boat: Tziporah is opting for the zombie-shuffle. Bored — she's so bored. Her two sisters are with her, chattering and yapping amongst themselves about wedding prep and other frippery-filled nonsense, a seemingly unending well of feminine gossip. Idly, Tziporah kicks along a pebble, amusement brightening her gaze as one of the sisters turn to scowl at her. "Whatever Junie." She turns her head, hoping to spot someone more interesting than her air-headed sister.

Spying (see what I did there?) some fellow Zingari girls further down the line, Ryott bends down in the pretense of tying her shoe, dropping out of sight among the press of people shuffling forward. When she reappears it is right next to Tziporah, her ebon eyes staring straight ahead, an expression on her face as if she had been there all along as she mumbles a deadpan, "Sup?" in the direction of the older teen.

(I totally see what you did there.) SHE TOTALLY HAD NOT BEEN! Tziporah will squeal and drop her bucket before planting her hands on her hips and glaring at the younger girl in growling reproof before picking up her bucket as her sisters march on, deciding to ignore their annoying little sister after looking suitably horrified at her antics. "What is up, Ryott, is that my sisters are the worst creatures on the planet. It's all 'boys, boys, boys'. Ugh."

Glaring doesn't stop the subtle curl at one corner of Ryott's lips at the reaction she gets from Tziporah, not quite a smirk, but definitely a distant relative. Stuffing her hands deep into her pockets, the youngster bobs her head absently in the direction of said worst creatures on the planet. "Well I hope they haven't let any boys sweet talk their way into their knickers with the way pregnancy seem to be catching lately." she says in her dry manner, maybe a little louder than necessary to make sure the girls ahead of them hear her. "Boys are morons." she adds bluntly for Tziporah's benefit as if agreeing with the other girl's previous disgust.

"Babies everywhere. Igraine's keeping me hopping with this herb madness." Tziporah is so over her scare, though she tries to aim a punch at Ryott's shoulder as retribution for scaring her. As for the sisters witch, the older girl shrugs dismissively. "They're betrothed, actually. They're squealing over their boys, specifically." Not that it makes much difference; the very idea is still disgusting to the Healer trainee. "They're just the type to make romance over a wedding."

Ryott takes the punch aimed at her shoulder with an impassive, "Ow." With a tilt of her head, she looks up at the older girl with a slightly raised brow and a look of pure incredulity…or boredom..it's hard to tell, they all look the same on the stony face of the young spyling. "Wellm look on the bright side," she adds with an absent shrug of her shoulders. "Soon they will be their husbands' problems." Continuing their slow shuffle towards the water source, Ryott whistles softly under her breath and an instant later, two blue firelizards zip over to her and land on her shoulders where she offers them scritches and little bits of jerky she pulls out of her belt pouch.

Tziporah smirks in amusement at Ryott. "Oh, please," She dismisses that 'ow' with a wave of her hand. "I didn't hit you that hard." Don't be a wuss, Ryott, says her tone. As to the sisters, well, they tend to engender a very great deal of boredom; the older girl really doesn't mind Ryott being less than enthusiastic about the talk of marriage, as it bores her right to sleep half the time it's brought up. "oh, how I wish they'd hurry up about it…" She eyes the girls ahead of her blandly when the pair turns to look back at her disapprovingly. WAT, GIRL, WAT. She turns an eye on Ryott's pair of blues with deep, deep interest — a MUCH better topic than her sisters! "Oh! Now, I'm jelly." The girl watches the pair getting their treats with open envy; her own little pair are nowhere near as mannerly as Ryott's; a thing she will have to fix quickly, lest she lose her place with Igraine.

Ryott is definitely not a wuss, the 'ow' was little more than reflex. "Maybe they should let their boys into their knickers then, nothing would speed up a ceremony like a swelling tummy." The spyling obviously has a twisted way of problem solving as she speaks loudly enough to reach the girls ahead of them, offering them a smirk should they look back. Another piece of jerky is flicked up where Trouble dives and snatches it out of the air. When Tzi exclaims over her pair, the girl affects a rather mild look of pride. "Don't you have any?" She asks before tossing a bite-sized piece for Strife, although the lither Trouble dives and snatches it from the air before the darker one can get it. This causes some sqwacking until Ryott calls Strife back down to her shoulder to give him his treat without fear of it being pilphered again.

Tziporah snickers at the sisters' offended huffing in Ryott's direction while offering much head-tossing and eye-rolling before they turn back, determined to Ignore the other girls. "Woo, aren't they high and mighty misses…" Tziporah snorts, shifting her bucket to her other hand. Ugh, can't this line move any faster. "Oh, yeah, a couple. A brown and a green. They're both real young." Speaking of which, Broxa and Hydra decide o put in an appearance, squabbling as usual about who perches where on their human before settling the matter: Hydra on Tziporah's head, and Broxa on her left shoulder. "Ridiculous, the pair of them."

Teeny tiny, delicate, and pretty darn shiny, the baby steps from the broken shards of his shell with a delicate sniff and cough. His rounded, funny-looking wings flutter; precariously, the hatchling tips back on his short, delicate tail and *sneezes* away the sand. Then-FOOOD! A reedlike creel erupts from his throat.

After they manage to move forward again the tiniest bit, Ryott whistles again with a slightly different pitch and the two blues will be off again, doing lazy circles over the crowds idling in the lines to the cisterns. At the appearance of the little green and brown, the teen furrows her brow at the way they squabble before landing on their humanpet, a brief, dry chuckle on her lips, "How young? Mine are only three months, but I started their training as soon as the hatching hunger wasn't so bad, a couple days I guess." Because in her line of work, well-trained firelizards are an absolute necessity.

"Well, Broxa — " And the brown is indicated. " — is two months old, and Hydra — " And now the green. " — is one month." Tziporah chews her lower lip, thoughtful and brow-furrowed in turn; she is so behind the ball on the whole 'training' concept, here. She edges forward with the line, just knowing her pair will soon do something embarrassing or annoying. "Igraine tells me I have to get them straightened out, and quick. Can't have ill-trained firelizards hanging around the Healer's tent, after all. But they're just so… stubborn." Read: Tziporah is terrible at keeping discipline with them, and therefore they take advantage, ignoring commands, stealing her food; at least they don't badger other people, yet.

Ryott nods thoughtfully as the other girl introduces her two firelizards, a thick brow raised up on her forehead as she runs a hand through the brush of her closely cropped hair. "Then straighten them out." she says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "Better hurry up too, or bad habits will be harder to train out." She shows the girl the pouch attached to her belt where there are small pieces of jerky cut up in tiny bite size pieces. "Food is the best motivator, stuff their face every time they are actually behaving how you want them too."

"I know that," Tziporah sighs in exasperation — not aimed at Ryott, just at the annoyance of having to fix her lizards in general. Why can't they be self-trained, the ingrates! Meanwhile, Broxa will stretch his nose toward that bag full of food, nostrils twitching appreciatively. That human has FOOD. OMNOMNOM! "No, you don't, you greedy bastard." She smooshes the firelizard against her shoulder, preventing him from taking a dive at the bag Ryott holds up. "I'll have to get myself one of those."

With a roll of her eyes at the bad behaviour from the brown firelizard, Ryott dips her hand into the bag and graps a couple of pieces before she stuffs them into the other girl's hand, "No time like the present to start." she says as she closes the pouch up again and hangs it off her belt. "Hold up your arm, take a piece of jerky and lead him by the nose until he is on your forearm, then, and only then, give him the treat." Her dark eyes watch the healer girl to see if she puts her marks where her mouth is, metaphorically speaking of course.

Oh, dear, Tziporah hadn't anticipated having to start right this second. She eyes the proffered meat almost dubiously. "Nah, we'll start later, after chores. I need to be able to concentrate on one thing at a time." Broxa does quit his struggle to get at the meat, though, after a sufficiently heated glare into his eyes. "Besides he just ate. I don't want to reward greed, either."

Ryott shrugs and isn't going to push, merely remarking dryly, "Suit yourself." she's certainly not going to twist the girl's arm about it. As the line moves steadily forward, the girl's dark brown eyes travel over the gathered crowd, quietly assessing in that quiet way of hers. Finally catching sight of something promising, Ryott shoots a little nod of her head in Tziporah's direction before she slips off and quickly disapears into the crowd of people.

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