Jaune Khaylia


Khaylia runs into Jaune brewing an ale, while she is avoiding work.


It is sunset of the seventh day of the ninth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Igen-Weyr Cellars

OOC Date 08 Aug 2018 07:00





Order at last, here in the cellar: foodstuffs in their proper places, floors cleaned and shelves organized: all the pots,
pans, and flatware are properly hung on the walls and stored on their shelves, gleaming with careful cleaning. To one side
of the cavern, there is a large outcropping of smoothed rock, permanently stained red: the place where all meat goes to be
portioned for cooking. The air is cool and crisp and almost free of humidity and moisture, an astringent tang of salt and
herbs hanging heavy in the air

Khaylia should probably be working harder but…. Life will happen without her. So she is down in the cellars instead,
poking. Anyone asks, she is on a TASK. There is a half smile hanging on her lips, like there is some private joke going
on, Just for her.

The cellars is where Jaune has started spending a bunch of his time. The most popular beverage of choice was an ale,
barely alcoholic and robustly tasteless. Which bothers Jaune. He had managed to secure a vat for his own attempt. Cracked
milled barley is currently getting poured from a bag sitting atop of his strong shoulder as Khaylia passes by.

Khaylia wrinkles her nose against the smell of the vat as she draws closer. A scowl replaces the half smile as she
marches forward, "What IS that?" Cleanly, whatever her background, it isn't ale. Or probably alcoholic liquids of any type
whatsoever. "It smells like someone poured sugar onto a farm."

"Cracked barley to malt." He answers quietly without anger. The man is busy and doesn't look up quite yet. Until the sack
runs empty and the grain settles flatly in the long metal half tube. Three other bags are on the floor, and the sack joins
them before he looks. And eyebrows furrow. "Its the sweeping girl." *Girl*

"… SWEEPING GIRL?!" Seriously, that is the best he manages?! That scowl doesn't leave her lips. "I didn't call you
Random walker."

"Thats because I gave you my name. And you didn't say anything. You just said…" and his voice takes on an unpleasant
whine. "What /is/ that." Jaune takes a large wooden paddle, with a long handle and undoes a valve to let steaming water
splash and start to fill in amongst the grains. "What is your name?"

"Jon? Juan?" Khaylia shrugs a shoulder negligently, quite possibly butchering his name on purpose. "Why would I bother
to remember a random apprentice's name?" Despite her snappy response she scoots closer to eye the paddle and water. Her nose isn't so wrinkled now as she becomes accustomed to the smell.

Her watching him work doesn't really upset him. And he takes the paddle to begin to unstick grains and move the water
around. The clear water begins to tint now, to dark brown, and the grains settle upon the bottom if he doesn't stir them.
"Jaune. Its an easy name." And he stops now, to let the grains settle, to turn the valve off and watch it for a bit.
"Whats your name? Or do I need to make one up, eh Sunset?"

" Whatever," For his name being easy. She isn't admitting ANYTHING. Reaching out she is going to try to touch the water
unless he stops her. "It's not like you will remember. Khaylia. Sunsets are ORANGE." Her hair is clearly red.

"Khaylia." Jaune tucks the edge of his paddle into a divot in the tub and leans against it. Watching her reach down.
"It'll be a bit warm. And sticky." He watchs her closely now, her hair is clearly red. "You'll know what I mean after a
dust storm. Something about that much up in the air tints everything red and lovely." Did he say she was lovely?

He said SOMETHING right because when she looms upwards she is all charming smiles. "You think so?" Reaching for the vat gets stalled so she can flip the edge of her hair up. "Why does it have to be warm?"

"I think it has to do with how much is in the…Oh. Warm water pulls the sugars from the grains better. You know how they
make candy?" Jaune is set beside himself at her big smile and unleans from the paddle. To stir the grains again for
absolutely zero reason. To do something.

Total.indulgence as Khaylia leans forward over the vat, watching the grains pull up and settle again. "Grain doesn't have
sugar in it though." Everything she says has the force of CONVICTION.

"Just about everything does." He says matter-of-factly. "Fermenting and brewing is based on sugar. And you can ferment
almost anything." Jaune lets the grains settle once more and the water turns an even darker brown, and fresh roast bread
smell lifts and eddies about the room.

Khaylia doesn't ask a question for a moment. Her eyes are caught on the grains settling one by one to the bottom.
Finally, "What is it going to be?"

Jaune leans the paddle against the wall and kneels down to taste the liquid off a finger. "An ale. Smooth I am hoping.
With some actual taste instead of whats been churned out here."

"Hoping?" Khaylia reaches down and this time actually touches the water, then tastes it like he did. "Is it suppose to
taste like something other than musty water?"

"Even with recipes, little things can change the taste. Temperature and time.." Jaune takes the paddle and push it through
the grains again, and the water darkens again. "It will get sweeter and sweeter."

This is the face of utmost doubt as Khaylia looks from the water, to vinter, to the water again. For now she'll hold her
peace rather than argue with him. MAYBE he knows what he is talking about. "I guess."

The paddle is settled on the floor beside him, widened end dripping back into the vat. "Khaylia." He hasn't forgotten her
name yet, but it hasnt been that long. "What has you roaming in the cellars? Do you need help finding something?"

"I wasn't roaming!" A quick denial as Khaylia reaches up to play with a lock of her hair. It gets tined about a finger
and then released, only for Khaylia to repeat it again. "I was sent… for some wine. The cook wanted it."

"Cooking huh?" Jaune doesn't believe her, but doesnt outright say it. She gets a quick flash of white teeth for a smile
and his hand settles upon her elbow to turn her around. "I have only been here for a week, but I know my way around down
here. Easy to get lost, or find some time alone."

"Isn't it? Since they feed us and whatever." Glibly tossed out as she pauses, totally assuming he'll open the doorway for
her. Why WOULDN'T HE? "Yeah, very dark. Wherry, I think."

It only takes a moment or twos pause for him to push open the door itself and hold it wide for her. "And whatever. Do you
work for the kitchens then, Khaylia?" Name spoken again. As if tucking it deeper into his memory so as not to lose it.
"I… work for the headwoman. Or her assistant. You know, it's all the same. Right now I am still looking for a permanent
position." Khaylia has to think quick for that, and then leans forward and kisses his cheek once, on impulse.

"Oh? Who is the headwoman? I haven't run into her yet at all." Jaune asks, completely unintentional in attempts to unravel
her lies. But he is promptly throw off course by the storm that batters his cheek. Or, the lips. And he blinks down at
Khaylia, as his cheeks turn red like her lips. "Uhh…What was that for?"

Khaylia is BACK on firm ground here. "Cremla. She's a bit on the sharp side but." Khaylia shimmies slightly, she knows
what to do with that. "You've been so sweet. I should probably get back to the cook. You know, for dinner."

"I just showed you where the wine was. While you avoided your duty by watching me brew. In a few weeks, you can have first taste. How about that?" His hand is still at cheek, wiping at the offending kiss as if it and its effect could be taken
away. "Cremla. I will have to meet with her. Have a good evening, Khaylia."

Khaylia's face turns all sorts of colors until the color is HIGH in her cheeks. "YOU ARE THE WORST." That said as she
throws open the door and lets it slam closed behind her. It would be best if it HITS HIM IN THE FACE.

Jaune is distracted by the immediate reversal of Khaylia's mood and blinks rapidly at her as she insults him, then vaults away. His boots catch the /slamming/ door before it smacks him in the face and he steps back to let it close. "Uh….Huh." Then goes to head back towards his mash.

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