Who

Myziri, Keelie, Francis

What

Myziri is hiding in the archive library for some reason. Keelie and Francis find her.

When

It is the sixty-seventh day of Autumn and 79 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the autumn rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.

Where

Archive Library, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 27 Oct 2016 04:00

 

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"Gah."


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Archive Library

Where once books reigned supreme, this open space is now dominated by a stalwart skybroom reaching to the sky through a broken ceiling. What was once evidence of collapse is now ornately carved with engraved ivy, matched by a clever contraption of stone that allows the gap to be closed in inclement weather. A small garden occupies the space around the tree-trunk, all manicured bushes and flowering shrubbery enclosed by a grated gutter. The walls are lined with bookcases, while a spiral staircase leans on the western wall to wind upwards to the second level. Tucked in the corners and scattered in the main areas are tables and chairs, cafe-style, and comfortably worn overstuffed armchairs. It is the perfect place for individuals to gather, to enjoy the offerings of the food-cart or a spirited conversation.


Myziri is hiding out - from the rain, from Sahizath (and another bath), but also from the Weyr at large. Because she feels ridiculous. Because she's wearing a PINK DRESS. Myziri doesn't do pink. Ever. Except when Sahizath insists. So there she is, wearing a vivid pink dress with way too may flounces and furbelows to her estimation. Plus she's wearing makeup; not a lot, but more than she'd ever wear if it were her idea. And she's wearing perfume. She keeps sniffing the air, as if wondering where the fuck it's coming from, but then realizes it's coming from her so scowls and goes back to working on her reports with nose wrinkling in disgust. And let's not forget her hair. It's been curled, sable ringlets tumbling down her back from where she's pulled it back with a clip from her face (she put her foot down there). All in all, you've got one very unhappy, very frufru Lynx wingleader sitting there trying to ignore the smirks and whispers of the few people in the archives who can see her, even though she's tucked herself out of sight behind the tree.

Keelie strides in through the doors - she''s come into the archive library to return a book on yoga, and another thicker volume on hand-to-hand-combat. Just a bit of light reading?! The brownrider drops them onto the counter, frowning. Her long hair is braided back and she looks kind of bad ass with those tall black boots and leather jacket - and her belt has a knife safely attached. A nice big one. Books are now returned - except she's taking out the hand-to-hand-combat one again. It safely tucked under her arm, she heads over to say hello to the tree, one of her favourite hideouts during candidacy. Then she pauses, sniffs the air. What's that smell? Is that perfume? Brown eyes lock on Myziri and her lips quirk slightly, happy to see her. Then she takes in that dress, that curled hair. Eyes are narrowed at some people smirking and whispering. "Hi Myz," she greets, her tone casual. Like this is a totally normal thing. "Do you have a date?"

Nose buried in her hidework, Myziri doesn't notice Keelie's arrival until she speaks. Then her head jerks up and takes in her friend and…..an look of longing overcomes the scowl on her face - she wants to be wearing badass leather and a knife!!! Well, more than just the one sheathed around her thigh, at least. Her expression quickly morphs back to resigned disgust at the question. "Hi, Keelie. And no. It's bloody Sahizath." Isn't that all that needs to be said, really? "She wouldn't shut up until I put this on. It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous." Her own eyes narrow on a few faces turned toward them with smirks on them and they all quickly look away as if they can see the steam rising off the magma of Myz's inner volcano. "That's right, cowards.." she hisses, then sniffs - her nose immediately wrinkles again "Gah! And I stink." She gives her friend another sad, longing look "Want to trade? You like all this frilly stuff."

Keelie notices that look of longing and looks puzzled by it, until Myziri explains. "Sahizath?" Still a bit confused. "What would she want you to— OH! Is she…" She remembers hearing about the last time the green became ready to mate, although as far as she can recall the dress wasn't quite so pink. "You are not ridiculous." She insists, quite seriously. She slides her book onto at spot on the table clear of Lynx notes and comes around to inspect the ribbons on her dress: a rare showing of old habits. Invading personal space just a touch. "Maybe a little." Is added quietly. Her sudden smile is faintly teasing. Do Loe's dresses even have so many bobbles on them? She reaches out to inspect one of those dark curls. "Maybe too much perfume though." She thinks about it, then shakes her head firmly at the idea of a trade. "This is a bit much… even for me." Keelie isn't a huge girly-girl. She does like dresses, and lace and seashells. But it's more of a minimalist look. "Can you not just tell her you do not want to wear it?"

"Finally curled up in her couch, sleeping and glowing. After her second bath today. And oiling. With the special stuff, with all the stink in it." Needless to say, Myz is exhausted. "But not until she made me dress up like I was some sort of…of…girly girl!" Something Myz has never been. At the tease, she groans "Faranth no! No one's dresses have this many frills. My sister made this for me, if you can believe it. My oldest one. For some reason, she still thinks I'm two." She grimaces at mention of the perfume "I accidentally spilled almost half the bottle on me." She admits. "But it was Sahizath's fault. She jostled me." Likely on purpose. "But I've been wet so many times today, I just didn't have the heart to take another bath. I tried to wipe it off, but I don't think it took." Woebgone Myziri! Disconsolate sigh at Keelie's refusal to trade, as well. "Shit. I'm stuck, aren't I? Until she goes up, she's gonna make me keep wearing stuff like this. And I did tell her. I swear, the dragon doesn't talk much for six months, and then it's nag, nag, nag." Incessantly. In her head. "I couldn't get anything done. She just kept talking." She drops her head into her hands, rubs them over her face then grimaces as she realizes she might be smearing her makeup. "Gah." She shakes her head looks at her friend "How you doing? You look loaded for feline." She indicates the big knife. "You expecting trouble?"

Keelie pushes her book over and hops up on the edge of the table, legs swinging. She's sitting with Myziri behind the tree at a table spread with notes. And Myziri is looking gooooorgeous in a bright pink gown and curled pretty ringlets. The brownrider adjusts the sheathed knife on her hip , toying with the handle as she listens. "Your sister made that? Maybe you could ask Xia to take some of the frills out." Or maybe she would add more in, thinking it was funny. Keelie smirks. "Well, you look older than two. At least five." All of the gentle teasing, although she is definitely sympathetic to the plight of her greenrider friend. "And that is a lot of baths." When Myz puts her head down, Keelie gently pats it. "Gruffith has a lot of opinions too." Although probably nothing like a proddy green! Poor thing. When Myz asks about her own kick-arse attire, the former wilding sits up a bit straighter. "Just… being prepared." She smoothes the leather of her jacket. "I left my bow and arrow at home." It seemed overkill. "I have been practicing."

A small advantage to being sort of an invalid? Avoiding all that nasty rain. Francis is warm and dry in an oversized guy-shaped cardigan most likely nicked from an elder brother pulled over a long dress with a high neckline, looking a little bit like a kid who got into the dress-up box instead of her usual put-together self. She's never been a stranger to the archives and is a more prominent patron during the past few weeks of her recovery. An armload of books is left for staff to reshelve and is about to dive into the stacks for more, but…wow, that is a lot of perfume. Following her nose she finds Myziri and Keelie tucked behind the tree. Though the initial instinct is to melt back into the shelves, it seems rude. So instead she stops near the table. "Hello, Myziri. Keelie."

"Well, nothing wrong with being prepared. I tell my wingriders that all the time. You practicing with M'noq? He's pretty good with his knives." Seems the reasonable sparring partner, all things considered. She manages a soft laugh for mention of the bow and arrow "Yeah…kind of overkill at the Weyr, I think. I generally only take mine on sweeps or when I leave the Weyr for any reason." Like huntin pirates! "I like the leathers, though. Kind of a change for you, all blac." But then, there's Francis and oh, the humiliation. Now D'ean's sister is seeing her looking like a fluffy pink thing. "Francis…how are you?" she manages the feeble greeting along with a flush to her cheeks, then a sigh of resignation. "I thought I'd found the perfect hiding place…" she opines, then looks suddenly anxious, peering around Keelie "You couldn't see me from the door, could you? Please say you just heard our voices, right?" Please, PLEASE say her pink splendor is not visible to all who enter! It's enough she's had to put up with those sniggering fools who keep making passes, who don't have anything better to do, obvs. She scowls at another lurker, her tone pleasant as she asks, "Can I borrow your knife, Keelie?" The lurker, of course, scurries off at the threat…though maybe Myz was just thinking about committing hari kari?

And no way is Xia getting her hands on this dress! Not unless she's keeping it!

"Hi Francis," Keelie greets with an inviting smile. One of her favourite former weyrlings. That doesn't call her Ma'am! A+. "You are looking better." Her smile goes a bit soft when the wingleader mentions her weyrmate, and she nods. "He is very good." Although he goes too easy on her. His knife-throwing skills saved her life, too. From that no good, rotten… Ahem. "Thanks." She does like the black. Keelie shakes her head of the people around. "Let them think what they will. None of them know what it is like to have a proddy dragon." She sends a subtle look to Francis, as if that ought to explain it all. Surely as an AWLM, Keelie taught a class on What happens when your dragon becomes proddy. Although it's different for everyone. "You are fine." She insists to Myziri, throwing some of her own shade at that lurker. BACK OFF BUDDY. Smirky smirk. Wait - did she want her knife to cut off some of the ribbons? Cause she'll lend it to her for that too. She's half got the knife out, but pushes it back inside. "So, Francis. Yes. How have you been? Did you see the flowers I left for you?" She left some for T'zaim too. "They were jungle blossoms. The pink and yellow ones."

Maybe Myziri likes wearing pink frills, so far as Francis knows. "I-" She glances back over her shoulder, then replies. "I smelled the perfume?" That will probably not be well received. "But no, I didn't see you from the door." She tugs on the edges of her cardigan so they overlap a little when Keelie compliments her better-looking-ness. "Thank you. Those flowers were from you? They were lovely." Ah, and there's proddy going on; she offers a single slight nod to the brownrider for the explanation of sorts. Still sort of rooted to her spot, her gaze flicks from the lurking lurker-dude to the knife and Myziri's dress. "You don't like it? I think it's pretty." Anyway, it seems that she's arrived at the right time with all the knife talk, and Fran's gaze falls on Keelie's blade. Her words are directed at Myziri though. "Wingleader, I did want to ask you something, if it's not too much trouble." What with the proddiness and all.

"Yeah….he's wicked at throwing them." Myziri agrees, then groans. "Ah, jeez, I knew I should have just taken another fucking bath." Another sigh, this one frustrated. Too late now, right? "But Keelie's right, you do look better." She agrees, just ignoring that whole dressed like a bottle of pepto-bismol thing, though the other greenrider gets a skeptical look as she mentions she likes the dress. "You want it?" she offers bluntly "I'll trade you for that very comfy looking outfit you've got on. Right here and now." Seriously, she's being tortured. But then, another sigh. "No, I can't. My sister would never forgive me." Another longing look at Keelie's lovely, lovely black leathers, then she perks a bit "Hey! At least I can honestly tell her I wore it now, right? Even if it never sees the light of day again….until the next time Sahizath rises. But then Francis provides another lovely distraction. "Just Myziri's fine, Francis." She waves off the title "I just can't take myself seriously wearing this getup." Which likely means no one else will either, so why bother? "But go ahead, shoot." Suddenly weary. "It's not about your brother, is it? We're just friends." Honest! So there's nekkidness once in a while, and spit swappin. It doesn't count!

"You are welcome," Keelie tells Francis, sensing the other young woman's nerves and sending her a slight smile. "Yes, maybe this can be your proddy dress." Makes sense to Keelie. Unless Francis really wants it? Hm. She bites her lip to keep from smirking when her greenrider friend insists she and D'ean are just friends. Her gaze wanders up to the branches above them, and then slides back to Francis, politely curious for her question.

"Pink's not really my color…but I suppose I could trade you for the time being, if it bothers you that much. Not right here though." Fran's pretty adamant about keeping her clothes on in public. Her dark eyebrows lift high in mild puzzlement at the mention of her brother (and the smirking) and she immediately shakes her head. "No, of course not, why would I…it's just that I'd like to learn some knife work and I keep getting referred to you."

Keelie gets a squinty-eyed look for the smirk, and for her comment "No." Is all she says however, before turning a bright (and honestly relieved) smile on Francis. "Oh! Of course! We were just talking about how good M'noq is, too, so he'd be another one who might help out. And Keelie's been practicing, so she could make a good partner to practice with. You're welcome to join Lynx when we do our sparring, if you'd like? Or were you looking for something more one on one?" Myziri then frowns a bit "Of course, you'd have to be cleared by the healers first."

"Yes," Keelie teases Myz. PRODDY DRESS. And then sobers. She listens quietly, although something inside her feels restless, and is shows on her pretty face. There's a tic on her cheek. Talking about throwing knives is perhaps reminding her of why she wants to practice… and then maybe she's remembering Rylov and the pirates, and that one pirate that… She fingers the hilt of her knife. Gentle brows lower. "Get cleared by the healers first," she echoes. "Lynx has good teachers. If you like, Francis, we can practice together, once you are well." Slight smile. The two girls are close to the same size, height-wise.

"Yes, I saw Wingsecond M'noq using them the night Rylov was taken." She nods to Keelie as well, when Myziri voluntells her as a practice buddy; it seems they have similar goals. "I was thinking throwing knives, to start. I'm not sure I could handle something like sparring yet, but throwing…it's a bit like physical therapy, you know? The healers already have me doing stretches and things like that to keep the scar from getting tight. But of course I will ask them." Francis folds her arms a little bit protectively over her stomach. "Maybe get more into the close quarters work when I'm a little stronger."

"Throwing knives takes a lot more stomach control than you would think." Myziri says, not unkindly "So even if you start with that, you need to make sure the healers say it's okay, and how much is too much. I don't want to be a cause of a relapse. What would I tell your brother?" D'ean wouldn't yell, most likely, but still - Myz would feel responsible. "But I do think it's a good place to start. I'd rather you learned to grapple close in without knives first, if you've a mind to learn that. But that will definitely have to wait until you're completely in the clear." She picks at a ruffle absently, smiling at Keelie. "Thanks..coming from an ex-wildling, that's a lovely compliment." Since Keelie was likely more able to take care of herself before Myziri was. "How's your head, anyway? You okay now? No residual?"

Keelie looks away and frowns thoughtfully at her hands. She has little cuts on her fingers. "I agree that learning how to fight hand-to-hand is more important than throwing knives. Although it is a good skill to have. Better to just up and STAB them if they get too close." Breathe out. She adjusts herself on the table. "You are welcome." Sweet smile. Keelie is usually able to take care of herself - as a wilding, it was more hearing things coming and running away and being fast than fighting. Which is why it's so hard for her that she didn't hear those sharding pirates! She still doesn't understand what she missed. She glances up and over at Myziri's question. "It is fine." She'll wave it off. "I should probably get back to Gruff. There is a book on yoga over there that was quite good, if you are interested, Francis. I just returned it."

Francis' arms tighten over her stomach a little more, posture stiffening slightly. "Yes, I just said that I would check with them. I would be glad to tell Dory my plans myself, if you like. They're not a secret." To Keelie, an oblique look. "I would prefer they not get close." Then a polite nod to each woman in turn. "Thank you, Myziri. Keelie, I'll take a look at it." The yoga book. But not right now. Right now she offers a final, "Clear skies," and meanders away back into the shelving.

"Well, better to know hand to hand even if you've got a knife, right? Because what if you lose your knife? Never depend on an inanimate object…" Myziri's in lecture mode, and so she's almost forgotten she's dressed like one of those crocheted barbie doll things old ladies like to make. But then, Francis is leaving and gets a wave, and Keelie seems to be heading out as well. "Guess I'll see you later." is said to the former, but she gives her friend a look "Say hi to Gruffith for me. And tell him to please stay far away from Sahizath, okay?" She's only half joking with that last one! And when she's alone, she'll sit there in silent pink splendor, trying to not waft perfume around too much, and attempt to concentrate on her reports.

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