Who

Ariele, Calliope

What

Ariele runs into robe-making Calliope atop the Star Stones. Conversation ensues.

When

It is midmorning of the thirteenth day of the fourth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Star Stones, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 20 Jun 2018 23:00

 

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"I guess, I'd say it was the 'what if's'. What if I was meant to imrpess, what if there's a lifemate on those sands for me."


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Star Stones

Jutting from the jungles, the caldera's northern most edge has been fashioned into the necessary star stones; two great boulders push up against the sky, weathering the winds that scour the ever-encroaching lichens that cling to the humid-moistened rock. A singular stone, so obviously man-made, serves as the eye-rock, long forgotten with only the wind's erosive touch to keep the greenery away. The stones stand upon the flattest point of the caldera, and any who climb the winding stairs, up the mountain's face, will be treated with a view worthy of the effort of the climb of the seemingly endless stone steps. Far and away, the entire weyr is exposed as are the vast jungles and terraced fields that dot the horizon. The Southern Barrier Range looms above the weyr, and from this vantage point, one can see the snows that clings to the summits. The winding Black Rock River sparkles far, far below. The ledge itself is small, however, so only a few brave souls and possibly one dragon could fit up here. With no handrails, the edge of the star stones's ledge offer a danger to the unwary who think to stand where the rock curves down into the bowl below.


It's a nice Autumn day at Southern, vaguely overcast but not rainy just yet. The humidity is there, not quite as high as usual perhaps but it's still damp and warm. Someone has decided that this is the ideal location to spend time working with white cloth and needle and thread. Occasionally low curses can be heard as the early twenties woman goes about stitching and measuring her robe. "How do people do this on a regular basis! Arg!"

The sound of Ariele's slow (so very, very slow) footsteps on the stairs can perhaps be heard before the red-haired woman herself can be seen; also audible is the sound of her heavy breathing as she leans up against the wall to recover herself at the top. She's just in time to overhear Calliope, and though she's not yet enough breath in her lungs to comment, there's a glimmer of a smile about those red-tinged lips nonetheless.

Calliope's attention is drawn from the mess of a robe in her lap to the stairs. The woman the gets a quirked brow before she offers a nod of respect. "That last bit is what gets you I think. Though I've been walking those things for turns now." she shifts, barely catching a thimble as it tries to roll off her skirts and blow away. Another mutter escapes as she turns her attention once more to the robe and her attempts at stitching a straight line.

"I usually," admits Ariele gamely, and with a faint smile, "just walk in the bowl. I thought I'd challenge myself, and—" And here she is, with just barely enough breath to put sounds together into actual words. Gesturing towards the white fabric in the candidate's possession, "I promise, as long as it holds together and covers what's necessary, it doesn't need to be anything fancy."

Calliope holds up the monstrosity that is her robe and grimaces. "Well that's something, Assistant Headwoman. I can manage that but not much beyond I'm thinking." she bundles the robe up and sets it inside a basket along with the rest of the tools required of robe making for the moment. "I can put a telescope together but stitching is not my area of expertise." she remains seated, stretching her fingers and hands as if even the act of stitching cramps them.

Ariele's laugh is genuine, if restrained: quiet amusement, then. "Whereas I can stitch a robe in no time at all, and embroider it beautifully - which I don't recommend, by the way - but a telescope? That would be entirely beyond me. We all have our skills. How are you feeling about the wearing of the robe? Excited? Nervous?"

Calliope picks at a few of the stitches from where the robe is in the basket. "I miss the nights that's for sure. I'm still not used to being up all hours of the day for the chores. I've been in the Starcraft since I was 14 turns old and slept during the day for most of that, it's certainly an adjustment." she raises a hand and makes a meh wiggle with it. "Relieved that my Journeyman project is on hold for sure. The thought of actually impressing and riding a dragon in Threadfall? Terrifying when I actually sit and think about it." she's not some youngster that sees all the shiny and none of the downfall, it seems she's going in eyes wide open. "Didn't think I'd ever stand really, been here for turns upon turns and not ever asked. Guess we'll see if it works out."

With a slow and sympathetic nod, Ariele listens - apparently with great interest, though it could be that she's very good at feigning it - to Calliope's explanation. "It's tough," she agrees. "Stepping outside of your normal life, and especially for an uncertain conclusion. What made you say yes?"

Calliope drags the robe back out, almost as if she's not going to let it get the best of her by just sitting there in the basket. Needle is plied again as she considers Ariele's question. "I guess, I'd say it was the 'what if's'." she glances up to give a shrug "What if I was meant to imrpess, what if there's a lifemate on those sands for me. I don't think anyone but a rider would know what it feels like but to them it seems worth it. I'll take a chance for that, even if it might mean I end up fighting that horrible menace in the skies." she talks a lot when working on that robe, who wants to bet those two things are directly related.

Ariele exhales lengthily, letting the breath escape through her nose. "It's difficult to imagine," she says, finally, "why anyone would volunteer to fight thread, if it weren't for the dragon. Well: I wish you the best of luck." Beat. "With the robe, and on the sands, too."

Calliope says, "Pretty much." before frustration gets teh better of her and she tosses the robe back in the basket again. Pushing to her feet she offers a nod of her head again. "A pleasure seeing you Assistant Headwoman. I believe I've got garden duty soon. Enjoy the view!"

"Enjoy the gardens," is Ariele's answer, and along with it comes a smile, genuine enough. She hasn't climbed up all this way not to stay and enjoy the view, so that's exactly what she'll do, staring down over the Weyr with at least moderate interest.

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