Evka, R'zel, Leire, Treista(puppeted by Alyna)


Just another busy lunch in Southern's Living Caverns.


It is noon of the sixteenth day of the twelfth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Living Cavern, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 08 Jan 2019 05:00




Living Cavern

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in a naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophobia. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about, candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next to the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the Weyr's youngest. The rich blue of the Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.

Lunch time in Southern Weyr gives a chance for the residents to eat and escape the sweltering summer heat outside. It's a busy time in the living caverns, flocks of people showing up for the midday meal. Evka is amongst the throng, food being a necessity and all. It being her rest day, she's decided to go for more practical and nostalgic clothing. She's dressed in a Zingari dancer's outfit (think Jasmine), the top and bottoms a deep hurt orange with crimson hems. A gold sash keeps her trousers up and a gold band wraps itself around her left arm. Sandals grace her feet and she wears her long curly hair free and down her back. Stomach rumbling, she moves to the sideboards for klah and a heaping plate of food. Where to sit is another matter…. she turns and looks, hoping an open seat makes itself known to her soon.

R'zel, like Evka, has abandoned working clothes for something cooler and more comfortable: a loose short-sleeved shirt and linen trousers, worn with open sandals. His colour choice is more than a bit blander than his wingmate's, though: beige and a slightly creamier beige, though the shirt does have a narrow brown stripe in the weave. He was a few places ahead of Evka in the queue for food, and he's just found a table with some spaces left. Settling himself in a chair, he transfers his plates to the table and then glances across the room. Seeing Evka looking around, he gives a wave.

Who's that woman staring wistfully ahead, her arms stained with a riot of colors? Why, that's Journeyman Leire, standing rather impatiently in a line of people, all awaiting a glass of delicious yet to be determined fruit slush on this hot summer's day. She's been hard at work it seems: she's wearing her dye apron over her rolled up sleeves and much of the dye itself. There's even a smudge of blue on the tip of her nose not that she's bothered at all by her haphazard appearance, so focused is she on the treasure waiting for her at the end of the line. But, just then, she's distracted by something, or someone, else. Her head tips and her heavily-stained soles have her making a beeline for the woman in a dancer's outfit. "That's just," she murmurs, stepping closer, unmindful of the other woman's plate and where-to-sit look, "absolutely stunning." Not creepy at all, Leire, no.

Only arrived a couple days earlier, Southern's newest goldrider seems to be getting around well enough. Treista stands out in a crowd for the sheer fact that, at 6'2", she towers over most. Today, her athletic frame is clad in a pair of light shorts that fall to mid-thigh as well as a pale yellow tank top on which is pinned her new knot. Ivory skin glows with exersion, and a towel flung around her neck speaks to maybe just coming from a run. There's a touch more red to the top of her nose and shoulders though, a kind of red that might end up smarting in a couple candlemarks. But the junior weyrwoman seems to be oblivious of this right now as she bypasses the food tables and goes right to the refreshments to fill a glass of water and gulp it down nearly in one go before refilling the glass.

Evka waves back to R'zel, happily moving to join him until approached by Leire, she pauses and smiles widely at the woman. "Thank you. The weaver in my caravan back home is a wonder with fashion and colour." She chuckles and smiles. "I need to go sit and eat before I fall over but I'm just over there if you'd like to talk." She grins. "Evka, of brown Saetyroith, by the way." She jerks her chin in the direction of her table and moves to join R'zel. "Afternoon Sir." She greets with a wide smile, glad she isn't the only one escaping the heat with her clothing. She slides into her seat and sips at her klah before tucking into her food.

R'zel hasn't really noticed the other women yet: after waving to Evka, he's made a start on his salad and sliced wherry. Nice cool food for a hot day; he's even got a glass of somehow-chilled juice. When the brownrider arrives, though, he gives her a somewhat resigned smile. "Afternoon, Evka. Keeping cool?" Not a lover of heat and sun, with his fair complexion, he doesn't sound too hopeful. The grin that follows is more spontaneous. "Is Saetyroith enjoying not being one of the youngest any more?" Even with Evka at the table, there's room for a couple more!

"I apologize if I'm intruding," Leire says, but this is one weaver who is not going to pass up a chance to get close to and oogle some good-looking fabric. She gaily trails behind the other woman, hands tucked into the pockets of her apron - by now she's completely forgotten about the dessert and some other forlorn soul has taken her spot. "Sir," the weaver mimics cheerfully, not sparing the wingleader much more than a courteous nod and a glance. Is he even there? "That color is brilliant. It's just," she covers her mouth with a hand, striking a thinking pose. "Hi," she says, turning abruptly to address the other people at the table and sticking out a hand towards R'zel, "I am weaver Leire. I should be sorry for interrupting your meal." Treista is too far away to draw the woman's eye, but perhaps that's a good thing.

Once cool enough from her second infusion of ice water, Treista takes the moment to let her eyes wander over the unfamiliar space. Should she go sit at the Head table? There wasn't anyone else up there at the moment, and she dismisses that idea quickly enough, not wanting to seem anti-social in this new Weyr. So instead, she'll trail behind the group of Wingleader, brownrider and weaver and once they are settled, she'll walk up with a subtle smile as she tries not to loom too badly over them. "You have room for one more?"

"The more the merrier" is said to the new Weyrwoman, who gets a smart salute from Evka. Turns into to Leire, Evka chuckles. "Timotin is a genius. if you're ever in Igen you should look him up, I've a feeling you two would get along swimmingly." Back to the Weyrwoman, Evka's grin widens. "Welcome to the Weyr by the way, I'm Evka, of brown Saetyroith. Nice to meet you." R'zel gets a quirky smile. "Trying too, the humidity makes that impossible though." As for Saetyroith well…"He likes the babies. I don't think being the youngest bothered him much."

R'zel actually notices Evka's outfit now that Leire has drawn his attention to it, though he doesn't allow his eyes to dwell. Before he can comment, though, Treista arrives, and he gets to his feet, and salutes the weyrwoman. "Well met. You're both very welcome to join us. I'm R'zel, bronze Verokanth's." He grins at Evka. "That is pretty distinctive, come to think of it. Is that Igen gear?"

"I do not think I have heard that name before, but I will be sure to find him if I ever make my way back that way." Her green eyes lift from the brightly-dressed brownrider to the newcomer, whose face is indubitably foreign to the Lemos-born weaver. "I do not see why not," she avers, agreeing with Evka's invitation, but when R'zel stands.. she stands, jutting up and eyebrows likewise. "Are we all introducing ourselves? That is very lovely, as is your blouse, dear. I'm Leire, of the weavercraft, and no dragon, though there are enough of them that love to lie about and watch the dye yard that I might be claimed by one. Who knows," wiggly fingers are a complement, as is a wide grin.

And Treista gets bombarded with introductions, but she seems to be taking it in stride since it's happened a lot in the last few days. Her smile widens just a little bit as she tries to focus on each introduction in turn to give them each their due, returning salutes to the riders. "I'm not promising that I won't be asking for your names again, but well met all. Treista, gold Yorprith's. Formerly of Telgar." There, now that that is taken care of, the statuesque woman takes a seat and puts her tall glass of water in front of her on the table. When Leira talks of being a weaver, she perkes up a bit, "I'm going to likely have to have some things made, I thought I had warm weather clothes, but they are proving not to be quite sufficient."

Evka looks near aghast at R'zel's descriptor for her clothing, eyes widening. "Most Igenites would die if shame before being seen in these. It's caravan fashion, Zingari to be precise." Her tone is one of teasing, but she's serious about the origins of her day wear. This should answer Leiri's curiosity on Timotin's origins as well. The new Weyrwoman is regarded with a kind of odd respect, she doesn't seem the stuffy sort at least, coming down to mix and mingle with the common folk. Evka has a lot of respect for a leader who can mingle.

R'zel answers Evka looking only mildly abashed. "I do beg their pardon," he says, eyes twinkling. With rather more sincerity, he tells the goldrider, in a clear Fortian accent, "I'm afraid warm weather here is a whole other thing than in most of the North, except maybe Boll. Even Igen doesn't have quite the same combination of hot and clammy. How are you and Yorprith settling in? And please, have a seat." He pulls a chair out for the weyrwoman, not really in a position to do the same for the weaver.

"Well met," Leire supplies with an ample grin, but from there she is content to watch the interactions fo the other, her fingers twisting together with little else to do. "It is a bit different," the weaver admits, turning to face the goldrider, "than such places as Igen and Ista. You should come by the weaver workrooms and see if anything we have is to your liking. I am not in the business of designing and sewing clothes, but I know of a bolt or two of fabric that would suit your coloring just fine." She gives the woman a discerning look, then looks pleased and expels a sigh. "I took up enough of your time. It was nice to meet all of you," she says, sounding genuine. And then, as quickly as she was there, she's gone again, likely to bother some other unsuspecting souls.

The talk of clothes seems to brighten the weyrwoman's smile a little bit more as she pulls her glass towards her and wraps her long fingers around it. "Caravan folk huh? Is that where you're from originally?" Treista asks Evka with some curiosity before taking another sip of the refreshing liquid. Her gaze swings back to R'zel and his knot, which is acknowledged with a nod of her head, "Wingleader I see, for which wing?" she asks adroitly before grinning at his accent. "A northern man huh? Impressed there or here? And yes, I'm starting to get that the heat down here is a completely unique beast." At Leire's swift departure, she grins and calls back, "I rarely find anything that fits off the rack…" before chuckling again.

Evka grins and nods at Treista. "Aye, trader breeding through and through." There's a deep sense of pride that comes with the acknowledgement. R'zel receives a wry grin from the brownrider, her own eyes twinkling back. "You're forgiven Sir."

R'zel settles back into his chair. "I Impressed here - Searched after all of three days in the South. I'd like to reassure you that one gets used to the climate, but in all honesty, it's taking a while, and I still get fried from time to time. And we're both in Ocelot." He nods towards Evka as he speaks. "I don't know if you've found out about our wings yet - Ocelot's upper flight in Threadfall, and we have a sideline in search and rescue, and do a bit of work with the guard."

"Traders are hearty folk, I've always found," Treista remarks with a tilt of her head in Evka's direction, pragmatic grin playing at her lips. "Although I've rarely ended up at Igen myself and not for…oh…turns and turns now." she says a little vaguely. Then to R'zel her attention turns and she smiles, "It's funny how Search can take people unawares. But if you're Wingleader, you must have settled alright indeed. Ocelot hmmm? I'm slowly absorbing things, there is a lot right now, so just doing my best." Then the word guard perks the woman's interest and her whole face seems to brighten, "Guards you say? That was my life before I was Searched. I like to keep my hand in, maybe I'll see if they won't mind an extra body for practice occasionally."

Evka chuckles. "Training with the guard is fun, I found some self defense classes with them that have proven more than worth their weight in marks. Makes for a good workout." Evka beams with the same pride as before when R'zel speaks of their wing. She's found a second family in Ocelot and it's a warm feeling knowing it. "I could totally see you as a guard, it's a good job." Evka takes klah colored eyes over Treista and grins. "I was a performer before , and I dabbled in healing for a bit." She looks to R'zel, wondering if he will reveal his past occupation as well.

"Captain Kelver's your man for that," R'zel offers to the goldrider "We do a bit of practice with them - unarmed combat and staff, though do those on our own, too - and the occasional field exercise. You'd be welcome to join us for those, too - maybe you can teach us a thing or two. We tend to put more time into Search and Rescue, though." Picking up Evka's cue, he adds, "And I was a harper apprentice when I was searched." He turns a speculative look on the brownrider, and with a lift of the eyelids, enquires, "What sort of performance, exactly? Is what you're wearing a costume?" Uh-oh. R'zel's knowledge of clothing may be showing its limitations.

"Captain Kelver…" Treista repeats to herself a couple of times before nodding her thanks in the bronzerider's direction, looking interested enough in his other suggestions. "That would be great. Of course, I really shouldn't commit to anything before I have my own work schedule normalized. It's going to take some adjustments, there were so many of us juniors at Telgar, the load was lighter so shared." About to add her own query about what kind of performance the brownrider did, Treista's eyes unfocus in that oh-so-familiar way and she sighs apologetically. "Sorry, I've just been summoned to a meeting first thing after lunch, and I'd rather not arrive looking like this…" She gestures at her quite well-loved work out clothes. "It was a pleasure to meet you both, Wingleader, Wingrider," she offers them each a shallow bow of her head in turn before she pushes to her feet and wanders to drop her glass off with the dirty dishes before heading out towards the bowl, disapearing from view.

Evka gives R'zel a sly sort of look. "Oh, a little dancing here… a little contortion there." She leaves it vague beyond that, though there's a hint of a tease in her tone. "Aye, it's dancer's garb, but damn convenient in this heat." She checks off a salute to the departing goldrider, R'zel having said most of what needed saying before she could answer, but that's OK, Treista had asked him anyways. Sipping at her klah, her attention returns to her wingleader and the conversation at hand.

"Contortion?" After the briefest of pauses, R'zel shakes his head and chuckles. "Or maybe I don't want to know about that? Still, any sort of performing's good fun." It's no secret that he does his share of that, though strictly the musical kind. "So, that's our newest weyrwoman. Even with a clutch just hatched, it's a relief to have another queen around." There have been far too few clutches in Southern's recent past.

Evka can't help but laugh when R'zel queries about her contortionist act. A secretive smile and that laugh is all he'll get for an answer on that subject, though it's an empty secret, her act had been g-rated. Sanford the new Weyrwoman, well, well Evka can do is nod in agreement. "Aye, I'm sure it's as much a relief for Amani as it is for us." She finishes up her lunch in due time, soon pushing her plate away and rubbing at the food baby developing in her abdomen. "Any big plans for the day Sir?"

R'zel's lunch is finished too, and he sets his cutlery down. "Nothing most people would find exciting. I'm going to visit the harpers and look at plans for my new gitar. I'm not sure if I'm going to use an existing design, or maybe adapt one, or start from scratch. Starting from scratch would be the risky option, but it would be really interesting. I need to work out exactly what I want, first." He piles one plate on top of the other, with his mug on top of all three. "How about you?"

Evka shrugs. "Nothing in particular. I had a swim this morning, but I'm just going with the flow today." She does seem slightly interested when R'zel mentions his plans for his Gitar. "A couple of our musicians played those. I never did have any real aptitude for instruments. I can play a little, but nothing like them, or the Harpers. You'll have to play for me sometime." Evka does miss the performance nights in the caravan, and she feels it keenly.

"Come along to the Treble Clef sometime when I'm doing a set," R'zel suggests. "I'm doing some duets with Tolavin soon - do you know him? He's one of the harper journeymen. But I'm sure we could fit a dance or two in." He gets to his feet and picks up the plates to return. "I'd better be moving, or I won't get anything done. I might go over to Fort if I don't find anything I like the look of here." Have dragon, will travel.

Evka smiles. "Will do. I like the Treble, it's a nice spot." She shakes her head when he asks about Talovin. "No, don't think I've had the pleasure." Her smile widens when R'zel mentions dancing and she nods when he excuses himself, standing to salute and to gather her klah mug…. and the stack of dishes before R'zel gets the chance. "Good luck and good travels R'zel, hope you have a nice afternoon." Evka will then saunter over to the buckets waiting for soiled dishes and deposit the stack there before refilling her klah and sauntering out the door. It's going to be a good day today.

Add a New Comment