Kyriatis, Alyna


Alyna is looking for something she lost and tries to enlist the aid of a young gardener, Kyriatis, to find it


It is morning of the twenty-eighth day of the sixth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Garden Terrace, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 18 Mar 2018 04:00


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Garden Terrace

Tucked-away and bejeweled, here is a hidden treasure of Southern, beckoning and beguiling those who may trod the entrance of weyrbridge: steps cut upwards, switching back and outer-railed, to terminate in a sheltered ledge of stone. Here, greenery blooms in fragrant profusion, scenting the air and quieting the minds of those who stroll amongst the cultivated rows of cultivars. Flowers, and tiny fruit-bearing trees limn the walkways. Tables and benches scatter organic throughout the rambling concourse, providing easy rest for those who challenged the stairs… or the craft shops beyond the scrolled wooden door at the innermost part of the terraced ledge.

It is the twenty-eighth day of Winter and 50 degrees. The day is dreary and overcast. A chilly winter rain is falling down in soft drizzles.

It's not so very early, really, though the low-hanging cloud has blotted out any of the sunshine that might warm the day. At least the drizzling rain has stopped (for now)! Amidst the greenery, Kyriatis' off-key humming is a cheerful counterpoint to the otherwise quiet terrace, though the nearby bustle of the craft shops is never far away. The teen is crouched upon one of the paths, hands grubby with muddy earth as she adds to the pile of weeds beside her, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up to the elbow despite the chilly air.

Wearing her riding leathers, done up against the cold drizzle, Alyna ascends the steps to the raised garders. Her quick march as she makes her way all the way to the back of the garden to a certain bench there, the greenrider bends over to look under the bench and then around the sides, sighing heavily when she doesn't seem to find what she is looking for. Putting her hands on her hips, she scans the area and her ice blue gaze falls on the lone gardner, Perfect! Striding over to the young girl, she clears her thoat, "Excuse me? Got a moment?" she asks politely, a sunny smile on her face.

It's hard to see whether or not Kyriatis is oblivious to the presence of the greenrider, though there's certainly no obvious reaction to her presence. Still, she drops back upon her calves without missing a beat, sunny smile meeting sunny smile as she turns to glance over her shoulder at the newcomer. "At least one, possibly even three, if I'm being generous," she says, cheerfully. "How can I— that is, how may I— help?"

Awww, she's so cute. Alyna thinks to herself as the girl answers her question, "Awesome. So I was here a couple of sevendays ago, way back over there." and she gestures in the direction of the last bench in the back, "And I think I may have left something behind in my…ahem…haste to get out of here. It was a lidded jar with a clear liquid inside. I already checked down there but it's been so long, someone has obviously picked it up. I only just remembered where I'd left it myself today." the petite woman is definitely chosing her words carefully in the presence of the youth, but she has a hopeful look on her face. "Would you know if anyone found anything like that?"

Kyriatis's smile doesn't falter, though for the moment there's the faintest furrowing of brows in response to Alyna's explanation, as if something hasn't quite lined up in her head. Still, her answer is nothing less than polite: "I've not seen anything like that, but you'll know what it's been like, since the storm. Everything's such a horrible mess! Was it very important?" The question is genuine, and so is the expression upon the teen's face, mouth setting itself into a thoughtful line as she considers.

"Well.." Alyna draws out the word for a moment as she considers the importance of an almost full jar of Th'res' weyrmade moonshine, and then shrugs her shoulders slightly, "It's not irreplaceable, but it'd be nice if I found it." she says in a measured way before chuckling to herself, "Where are my manners? I'm Alyna, green Haquith's." and she'll hold her hand out towards the young woman.

Features too expressive to hide her reactions, Kyriatis is plainly curious, but perhaps too polite to push too far. Alyna's outstretched hand draws a pause, her own hand lifting and then falling back again, but only so that she can wipe some of the mud on it onto the thigh of her trousers. It's not perfectly clean when it reaches to take Alyna's, but it's an improvement at least. "Kyria," she says in answer. "Well met. I can ask around for your bottle. Probably someone else picked it up, which means it's probably in the storeroom or something. I'll find it."

Alyna doesn't seem to mind any dirt left over on the girl's hand as she shakes it firmly. "Well met Kyria, and that would be great really. I'd appreciate it." Taking her hand back, she puts her hands on her hips and smiles down at the girl. "Nice job on the garden up here by the way. I spend many candlemarks up here in the last few sevendays." Drinking herself in a stupor most of the time to stave off the worse of her dragon's proddiness, Kyria may have even come across her passed out once or twice.

A nod acknowledges Alyna's appreciation, but it's the latter remarks that draw verbal response: "Well, I'm not the only one who works in here, of course. I'm still learning, too, and really I'm mostly weeding, but… thanks." Her grin is resplendent, setting her expression almost to glowing. "I think I've seen you around," is rather more circumspect. "I'm so glad you enjoy the gardens. People always tell me that not all Weyrs get them, and I think that's a tragedy, don't you? Dragonriders especially need a reminder of what they're fighting for." Plants and trees and flowers?

"Hey, weeding is a very important part of gardening." Alyna completely guesses as she offers a small smile down at the teen, "Don't sell yourself short Kyria, people will try to get you to do it your whole life just because you're a girl. Fuck 'em I say. This is your job, take pride in it." What the youth did to deserve one of the greenrider's pattented feminist pep talks, who knows, but Alyna will give it anyway. "I really do appreciate them actually. I was at Igen for twelve turns before coming here, so all this greenery is a treat for me."

Kyriatis is pleased by Alyna's words, her shoulders rolling back and her posture straightening under the wealth of this praise. Take pride? Take pride! That latter remark, though? "Igen!" It's completely dismissive, perhaps even to the point of being disapproving, the teen's mouth drawing in as if she's sucked on a lemon quite by mistake. "Well, no wonder. They have nothing but sand, and I'm sure it's terrible. My dad's from Igen, and he got out just as soon as he could. And admit it, you like it here better, don't you." It's not even a question.

Chortling boisterously at the girl's moxie when she mentions that she came from Igen, Alyna's blue eyes dance with mirth, "Well, don't hold back or anything." She ribs with a healthy dose of sarcasm. "Igen's not all bad. I Impressed there. I was from Telgar Hold originally. And I got here just at the beginning of autumn so I only got a small taste of good weather before I was treated to rain and storms that make people act like idiots." She won't agree or deny whether she likes it more or not but will add cryptically, "Although meeting new people has been nice."

There's neither shame nor embarrassment in Kyria's expression or tone. "Daddy Impressed at Igen, too," she relates. "So it's not all bad, except I'm still glad he came here. Are there really still men there wearing tights, because that's just weird." Not… actually a question, somehow. "Summer's nicer, here, but even winter's not so bad. Just wait until it warms up again, and you'll see. Nothing better!" There is, however, just the briefest of pauses before she asks, her tone a little more cautious, and more serious: "People are going to stop being sick, right? And the refugees will go home? Things will go back to normal?"

Alyna tilts her head to one side and narrows her eyes at the girl when she speaks of her father. "Oh really? But you were born here?" she assumes since the girl is spouting some rather epic Southern pride. "And I don't remember the last time I saw men in tights there." but the way she nods appreciatively might mean she wouldn't mind seeing it if the opportunity presented itself. "Then I will reserve my opinion for when summer does come back around." she says with another giggle that fades as the girl asks the serious question and the greenrider just shakes her head, "I've been asking myself that for months…" And she seems to bite off the rest of her words before she ends up saying too much, "But I am sure the Leadership has it well in hand." Wait, was that a touch of sarcasm in her words? Surely not.

Kyriatis's nod, and the proud expression upon her face, answers that first question, but though there's something about her mouth that suggests— at least for a moment or two— she's dying to say something, she doesn't: perhaps it's because Alyna has continued, and there's a more serious subject at hand. Serious, now, her hands press into the sturdy fabric covering her thoughts, fingertips smoothing out invisible wrinkles. "Are you?" Beat. "You don't sound sure." This is Kyria's home; by her expression, the answer matters.

Alyna clears her throat, shooting a worried look at the girl as a private battle is waged in her mind. "Look kid, it's not all cut and dry for the 'Leaders. A lot of times, all they can do is manage the chaos without it ever blowing up too bad. This is one of those times. But they are trying their hardest I am sure." With that she waves dismissively, "But I've only been here for a few months myself, so if you really are concerned, maybe take it up with someone who has been around longer than a single season." There! Proof that Alyna can be quite diplomatic when she needs to be, and when he dragon isn't prody.

Diplomatic? Yes. Satisfying? Not so much. There's a battle being waged behind Kyria's eyes, one that's plainly laid out upon her face, expressive as it is. She sighs, as dramatic as the teenager she is, and admits, "Daddy says it'll be fine, but then I keep hearing people having doubts," and by the steely-eyed glance she gives Alyna, she's counting the greenrider in that, too, "and then what am I supposed to think? I'm not a child anymore." Don't think she didn't hear that 'kid' and instantly resent it!

Alyna holds her hands up as if she needs a defense against the young woman and she shakes her head, "Trust your Daddy. I'm sure he wouldn't lead you astray." Alyna suddenly thinks how nice it would be to have that jar of 'shine right now because she is way too sober to deal with the dramatic antics of a teenage girl. "No, you are obviously not a child, I just meant, there are people whose job it is to worry about this stuff, so let them. But it's nice that you care." she looks the gardner up and down again, "You planning on standing for a clutch someday? Or have you already for that matter?" she wonders.

Is Kyria mollified? It's hard to tell, even given the expressiveness of her face, possibly because there are just far too many emotions all wrapped up into one there. Whatever she might think, it's that question that she latches on to, her eyes shining with the gleam of the true believer. "Not yet, but I will, just as soon as one of them rises. I'm Weyrbred, and daddy's a brownrider, so it's my duty to do so: we'll need more able bodies to fight Thread throughout the rest of the pass. But," comes as an afterthought, "If I don't Impress, that's ok too, as long as I've done my duty in trying. I do like my job."

Watching the different emotions play over the teen's face is making Alyna dizzy. What an intense young woman! she thinks to herself as she blinks a couple times. "Well you seem like the kinda young woman who would make a good rider, so I hope that works out for you." She remarks before a slightly vacant expression flows over her features for a moment, clearing again when she sighs heavily. "I must be off, sweeps will wait for no woman. Nice meeting you. And if you find that jar, just leave a message for me at the Tipsy Kitten. I'm in there enough, I'll get it." She says with a slight wave as she ambles off in the direction of the bowl.

Kyriatis, plainly pleased by that assessment, straightens her posture all over again (it's amazing how posture tends to slouch down after a few moments, thanks gravity). Her, "Thank you," is perhaps more serious than it needs to be, and so is her, "I'll do my best," but both are clearly relayed with the best of attentions. And that jar? It's probably slightly emptier than it was, when it shows up with Alyna's name on it at the Kitten, but every little bit counts, right? RIGHT?!

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