Divale, Zaria


Divale and Zaria are both on the hunt of some strange sounds coming from Igen's cellars…


It is evening of the sixteenth day of the tenth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Cellars, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 23 Apr 2018 04:00





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.

With the dinner rush over, the kitchens are winding down as well as the last of the days tasks are completed. The cellars are all but empty at this evening hour, save for one brownrider who idly roams from one end of the room to the other. Occasionally, Divale pauses to examine something or observe thoughtfully before moving on. Not so surprisingly, she’s drawn to the stained slab of stone, where she picks up a meat cleaver to tilt it this-way and that in the glowlight. What comes as a surprise is the way she strikes it against the stone itself (flat side!); it makes a loud ringing noise but not loud enough. Divale’s disappointment is evident in the way that she almost discards the tool with a bored, dissatisfied air. Nope! Moving on.

Zaria had been wandering her way through the Living Caverns, quiet after the evening meal rush has cleared out, her mind lost to thought the drills she led that afternoon, a frown on her brow showing that the Arroyo Wingleader is not too pleased with how things went. It wasn't until she heard the strange knocking sound that she snapped out of her silent reverie and looked around her to see where it was coming from. Following the sound, she ends up in the cellars, her ears straining to figure out where exactly it's coming from, it seems to move moment to moment. And that is when Divale decides to strike the stone with the flat side of her cleaver, the red-headed woman so focused on listening for the odd knocking that she shrieks in fright at the sharp soud fo metal against stone. "Who's there!?" she calls breathlessly as she looks around for the source.

Thankfully Divale already set the cleaver aside or Zaria might have had quite the visual! Instead, the brownrider turns to stare, rather cooly, at the bluerider after the shriek of fright. Who is there? It’s her and her dry, dry commentary with a biting edge. “How in Faranth’s name did you make Wingleader? You’re flightier than a green.” She should know better than to sass one who outranks her, but given the headaches she gave R’xim in his day (and now Eala’s joy), it’s no wonder boundaries are being pushed. That, and (inexcusably) she’s running on lack of sleep.

As her hazel eyes finally rest on the source, Zaria lets out a sigh of relief before she clears her throat, trying to regain some of her composure. "It's pure coincidence that the two times our paths have crossed, I've nearly jumped out of my skin." Sure it is. "I assure you, I am more than professional when it counts." the bluerider lifts her chin slightly at that, not really offended, but maybe a little on the defensive. "And besides, I was already on edge trying to follow this knocking sound all the way from the Living Caverns." she sniffs then as if she is done with that topic and wanders further into the cellar to see if she can pick up the knocking again.

“Isn’t part of being ‘professional’ meaning you’re unflappable?” Divale’s not so ready to let the topic drop, in enough of a mood to riskily needle the Wingleader. She won’t press further, however her gaze will linger on the bluerider in silent criticism. “Where did you hear the knocking?” she asks, genuinely intrigued by that tidbit of information. So far, the only sounds here are the ones they’re making, the conversation and the bustling sound of weyrfolk and kitchen staff moving about elsewhere. Completely and utterly normal!

"I don't think those two are mututally inclusive actually." Zaria will muse thoughtfully before shrugging. When finally the topic seems to be dropped, the bluerider does look mildly relieved as she goes about answering the brownrider's query, "Knocking, it was in the Living Caverns, first like ti was coming out of the floor, then the wall and I followed it through the kitchen and into here, where I was almost deafened." She quips that last with a smirk on her lips as she shakes her head, "But it seems to be gone now."

Divale scoffs lightly, pausing in studying another tool to peer sidelong and darkly to Zaria. “I beg to differ,” she muses, dry as ever, to edge the final ‘say’ in the matter. As their conversation drifts to the ‘knocking’, she straightens and glances about the cellars once more in a gradual sweep. “Odd. I didn’t hear any of that knocking? The only sound I heard was… the obvious.” She gestures to the stone slab with a smirk of her own. “Ruled that out as the source. Been hearing odd complaints all day of strange noises and various other disturbances.” Which might be a slight nightmare in and of itself for the Guards! Parhelion may be spared the worst of it… for now.

"There's nothing wrong with having differing opinions." Zaria says with simple finality, hoping that the tenacious brownrider will let it die, although worries that might not be likely. Clearing her throat, she listens to Divale's recounting of what she's investigating with interest. "Well, at least I don't have to worry that I'm hearing things if there's been other reports then." she says with a soft chuckle and a shake of her head. "It was hard to pinpoint though, like it kept moving around." she offers as if that tidbit of information might be of interest.

Divale does concede that point to Zaria with a slight dip of her head. The matter is dropped, for now between them. As for whether or not she’ll hold on to it? Well… the brownrider is a creature of observation! No doubt this is all being tucked away somewhere. “There have been several and depending on who you ask or who you believe? They’re all contradictory. Such as,” And she gestures to her. “You mentioned knocking. Non-stationary. Which opens up a variety of theories that whatever it is is mobile.” Clearly, it is of interest, as she absorbs it into her current knowledge of the ‘mystery phenomena’. “The workers here mentioned ‘tapping’ — I assume when things are quiet, like they are now. Knocking, tapping…” As if on cue, there’s a series of tappings that gradually increase in volume; almost as though they’re approaching. Which would be impossible, as the source seems to be the wall itself at the back of the cellars. The very wall that Divale is frowning heavily at, once the final sharp-thud-tap dies out. “… now that is odd.” Comes her delayed, reserved observation.

Zaria is nodding along with Divale's observations, interjecting gently with one of her own, "Tapping and knocking could both be describing the same thing.." and then the bluerider trails off as she freezes when the tapping comes again, but at least this time she doesn't look in danger of jumping out of her skin. "That's it, but it had a deeper tone in the Living Caverns." she offers as she looks back over at the brownrider with a raised brow as she steps closer to the wall it sounded like it was coming from.

“That would depend on select variables,” Divale counters almost immediately. “Tapping is often considered gentle, quieter. Knocking implies more force? The difference between a glance and a full on strike.” She explains, offering a small glimpse in just how complex her thoughts can be (or it’s her overthinking the matter). There will be another hard look when Zaria freezes, but the brownrider holds her tongue on further jabs to the Wingleader. “Mhm. There has to be a logical explanation behind it?” She mutters, while moving to make another slow round of the cellars. It’s cut short, however, as her head tilts to the classic ‘listening’ that some riders do. Then she becomes instantly more alert, dark gaze alight with burning curiosity. Her smirk is almost wolfish, predatory. “… Lukoith tells me that some have just reported howling on the outskirts of the Bazaar.” Which is more or less her territory — or a reason to move her ‘investigation’ elsewhere. “If you’ll excuse me, Wingleader?” Though she moves to dismiss herself, if Zaria chooses to join her, the brownrider won’t (openly) object.

Zaria lifts a hand to the wall and actually leans towards it, straining her ears slightly, as she makes note of what Divale is saying behind her. At the report of howling the bluerider with quirk a brow. "Well you have fun with that, I'm going to hang out here and see if it happens again." she remarks with a dismissive wave for the Wingsecond as she settles into an exciting evening of listening really hard.

Add a New Comment