Who

Ginger, Elonoora

What

Two girls chitchat about their crafts and some of the perils of living in Southern.

When

It is afternoon of the fourth day of the ninth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Weyr - Living Caverns

OOC Date 09 Apr 2018 05:00

 

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Living Cavern

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophoba. 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 the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


It's lunchtime on a lovely spring day - absolutely the best sort of Southern weather, at least in Ginger's opinion. Quite a few people are seeking the open air for lunch today. She's not alone, then, in selecting her meal from amongst those foods that are easy to wrap and take elsewhere, and she's loading a cloth bag lined with napkins rather than a plate as she makes her way along the serving table. Bread - check. Cold meats - check. Pickle - maybe. She contemplates its consistency for a moment, then spreads some on a slice of bread and then lowers a slice of meat on top. More bread, and she's got a sandwich. Hurrah! She eyes a plate of sticky pastries, but there's no reason to avoid them now, and after some hesitation, one is selected, wrapped, and follows the sandwich into her bag. Now, what about something to drink? She produces a corked earthernware bottle and advances on a jug of juice. This could get messy!

Elonoora has finally, FINALLY broken free from her morning shift selling pastries and whatnot down on the boardwalk. Even with the help of her big floppy straw hat, the baker is looking a little bit crispy in her arms and shoulders as she comes through the line. For once, she's going to completely skip the food line for the time being, although the meatrolls do get a bit of a longing look, but no. She'll stay the course and head straight for those pitchers of practically ice cold water. While she's working on gulping down her second glass of water, the baker eyes the juice table next to her and Ginger's approach on the vessel. That's a recipe for disaster she can read a mile away. "You can ask for a funnel, you know."

"We have funnels?" Ginger sounds surprised at that. "Well, that would be really handy - who do I ask? Say, you could even leave one on the table - then nobody would have to go and get it." She grins at Elonoora. "Ohhhh, someone's been in the sun." A look of uncertainty crosses her face. Ginger is all too familiar with other sources of crispiness for those cook. "I mean, it was the sun, wasn't it? Not, oh, some horrible conflagration in the kitchen?"

"Yeah," Elonoora rolls her eyes a little bit like this is the most obvious thing in the world. And to her, it might be. Who knows how many times she's had to pour big things into littler things in the kitchens. "And if we just left them on the table and folks used them for all sorts of juice, that'd be just asking for vtols." She shudders a little bit in distaste for the flying bugs. Still not a fan of anything with more than four legs. "You can ask one of the drudges or anyone coming out to restock the tables…" This baker would probably also know where to get it, but she's not volunteering and definitely not budging from the point where she is currently refilling her third water glass. Hydration is important. "It was the sun. They had me out on the boardwalk all morning!" She lets out the most melodramatic sigh at that as if being on the beach is the worst thing ever.

"Oh dear!" Ginger sounds suitably outraged, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "What a horrid fate! All that sunshine! What were you- Oh!" She breaks off as one of the servers passes, and supports her request for the funnel by explaining how she desperately needs it if she's to avoid horrid accidents involving sticky juice, before turning back to Elonoora. "So, what were you doing on the Boardwalk? Sounds like a good place for a cookout? I've been stuck inside all morning learning the proper way to use a wood-chisel."

Considering how many siblings Elonoora has, it isn't surprising she can sense when she's being mocked. The girl puffs a little bit, arms crossed. "It is a horrible fate when you're stuck out there trying to sell those oatmeal raisin cookies nobody wanted anyways. I mean, look!" The glass of water is set down on the table so she can hold out her slightly red arms which may even get a little darker as the day goes on. "This was with that lotion the healers make up. And a hat!" Can't forget the hat as far as sun protection goes. "In Telgar or Fort, I'd never get burnt like this, not this early in the season. The only thing baking out there today was me. I think I'd have traded with you if I wouldn't have ended up chiselling my hand or something." Hands are kind of important and she needs her's.

"Hey! I totally love oat and raisin cookies!" Ginger protests, but she does inspect the red arms. "That does look scorched. It sounds silly, but it's not a bad idea to cover your arms if you've got to be out in the sun a lot - you know, something loose and airy, with a high neck. The stuff the healers make is all right, but it's not up to several hours in the sun. With my colouring, I totally fry if I'm not careful." 'Totally' is totally Ginger's word of the day. "I cover up, and try to keep in the shade. I guess there's not a lot of that on the Boardwalk. Hey, you could get one of those big sunshades. Or an awning."

Elonoora looks up at the other girl with an eyebrow raised ever so carefully at the mention of the love for the oat and raisin cookies. Good thing her face was shielding so that at least doesn't hurt to do. "I guess I'm just going to have to bathe in numbweed or something. Think I'll actually tan like some of those Istans?" She sounds a little bit hopefully at that possible silver lining. "And I hear citrus juice in the hair can get some highlights as well if I'm going to be out in the sun, although that would require putting up the hat…" Anyways, she rolls her eyes and gives another overly exagerated sigh at the mention of an awning. "That's what I had said. Like five times." Or more like a hundred while she had someone to complain to down at the Boardwalk today. "It's just cruel to expect someone to be outside that long without shade. And the water right there, but can't leave the stall to get in it!"

"That is cruel," Ginger agrees, and there's a longing note in her voice as she continues, "It must be lovely in the sea right now. Wish I had time to get down there before I have to go back. Maybe this evening. Though, the water washes the sun lotion away, so you can still get your shoulders and your face cooked if you don't watch out. Have you got to go back this afternoon? Oh, thanks!" The last is to the server who is holding out a funnel. Ginger takes it and starts the careful process of pouring juice into her bottle. "At Igen they wear all those floaty scarves and things, to keep the sun off."

"Right? I think I'll grab my swimsuit and head down to the beach this evening… Once the sun has gone down." Elonoora will give a nod on the last. She's clearly had enough sun for one day. But evening swimming sounds grand. She'll take her water and take a few steps around the table so her shoes will be well clear of any potential spill radius should Ginger's funneling go horribly wrong. She tilts her head to consider the possibility of those floaty scarves. "I could see how those might work… but down here, with it being so humid it seems like they'd probably just cling to you instead of floating. Especially if you got stuck in one of those afternoon showers."

Ginger nods, and seems to have enough sense to watch what she's pouring, even if she does continue to chatter on. "It's much sweatier here. Loose stuff's still good, though - I'm not keen on clothes that cling. Except, I prefer trousers to skirts. I've got a couple of the scarves, 'cos I visit family at Igen, and it does help. I don't wear them on my head here, but they're pretty handy for draping over bare shoulders. And they're ever so light - you can tuck one in a pocket. But I don't go for the fully-wrapped look that they're into down there." She sets down the jug and the flask, and pushes the cork firmly into the neck of her bottle.

While Elonoora has backed herself further away from possible juice spillage, she's also within arms reach of the fruit table, so a couple of those grapes are plucked right of until she has a handful. "I never thought I'd say I miss snow after moving down here! I thought that was one of the good things about living on a beach. But winter without snow…" She just shudders a bit. "It's just bleh. And yeah, skirts seem like they'd be problematic for a smith, but they're great if you're not working. Nice and airy." She'll swish her own long skirts around a bit as demonstration.

"It gets cold enough here," is Ginger's opinion. "Did you get across to Southern Barrier Hold at all? They've got plenty of snow. Most of the time, it seems like." As for the skirts, she nods in rapid agreement. "Skirts'd be a liability round the forge. Not that I'm getting anywhere near a forge at the moment; I'm doing my woodcrafting basics. Sawing, planing, chiselling - did you know that if you use a chisel right, you can make these really cool curls of wood? Mine keep breaking, but I'm getting there." Her eyes settle on Elonoora's grapes. "Oooh, those look good!" Gathering up her belongings, she steps quickly across to add a few to her bag. Fruit's healthy, right?

Elonoora shakes her head quickly as she nibbles on a few more grapes. "I mean, I guess I could ask one of my brothers to come visit and take me… or my Pa." She just shrugs. "But they're all in Telgar. Does woodcrafting basics not include smithing your woodcraft tools? They're made of metal, right?" The baker hasn't really been paying MUCH attention to the other crafts, but knows making all sorts of things tends to be a very smithy thing. "There's also some veggie sticks and a nice little dip as well…" Elonoora tilts her head a bit further down the table in case the celery and fingerroots further down the table.

"I've been doing a bit of that in the metal-working." Ginger extracts a grape from her bag and crunches it. "But I'm on using the tools at the moment. Need any breadboards? They keep saying that the random bits of wood I'm working on are breadboards. I think I get to carve 'Bread' into one soon." She makes air-quotes around the word. "Exciting, right? But we get onto turning, soon, and then I get to make a stool." That seems to appeal more. "Funny, I always thought I'd like the woodcrafting bit, because I'd done a bit before, but the metalwork's much more fun."

Elonoora shrugs a bit at the offer for breadboards. "I mean, we can always use more. Especially since we need to keep separate ones for the fish and another for raw meat and another for everything else. Carving should only go on decorative ones though that you put finished food on. Otherwise you're just adding more crevices for junk to accumulate in that's a pain to wash out." She does a pretty good job of miming out trying to scrub furiously at the tiniest spot, complete with wrinkled face. "Metalwork is what people think of when they think smith." Don't tell Ilaria that.

Ginger grins. "That sounds sensible - I shall avoid unnecessary crevices. Though, a bit of decoration is nice sometimes. One of the guys is doing one for fruit, complete with bunches of grapes around the edge. He's going to wax it, too, so it'll shine." She looks thoughtfully at the older girl. "I guess you're right - people do think about metalwork. But there are loads of different types of Smith - we have to choose what to specialise in." She absently pulls the sandwich from her bag and starts to nibble.

"There are some nice fancy ones I've seen with different colored woods all mixed together in like checks or zigzags," Elonoora thinks a bit more about the many variety of cutting boards she's seen before venturing that opinion, before nodding about the specialties. "We have that as well. Some butchers, or folks that specialize in main courses or sauces or sides. I do mostly pastries though practiced it all."

"I want to be the sort that designs things," Ginger confides. "I like all the maths. But I'd have to go to the Hall to train if I want to do that, so I'm not sure. Maybe the metalwork, but people tend to think of metalworking smiths as guys with lots of muscles. Which isn't really me. Lots of women smiths do woodwork, or fiddly stuff like jewellery." She says the j-word with clear disdain. Ginger is not one to wear jewellery, even if she had any.

Elonoora nods along as she works her way down to those veggies she had pointed out earlier. A small plate with some of the onion dip as well as a pile of fingerroots. She doesn't only eat sweets, just mostly. "Maths aren't so bad, although just sitting in looking at hides all day seems like it'd give me a headache. I'd prefer just doing the stuff we need for baking. Fractions and stuff." All the conversions as recipes are multiplied or divided as needed. The slightly older girl's eyes do light up a bit about jewellery. "Well, you could do metal work with jewellery at least. And not need all those muscles."

"Mmmm…." That's a doubtful sound coming from Ginger, who's nibbling that sandwich that she was supposed to be taking outside. "Not that there's anything wrong with having muscles. Or even being a man, though I'm glad I'm not. A few more muscles would come in handy at the forge, though. Or even for some of the woodwork." She purses her lips for a moment - she's sorting out her thoughts as she speaks. "Jewellery's kind of delicate and fiddly and, all right, it's nice, but it's kind of pointless, really. Just pretty things for people with enough marks to spare. If I'm going to be a smith, I'd rather do something that makes things better for people. Like, designing ventilation systems, or better ways of making things."

Elonoora lets out a bit of a giggle from behind her veggie snack. "I guess you have the opposite problem that I have. I'm surrounded by nothing but girls for pretty much all of the workday. Except when they have candidates come in." As for the point of jewelry, she shrugs. "I wouldn't say it's pointless. People like having nice things. It can remind them of a special someone or maybe a special time. Life would be boring if we only dressed or used the most utilitarian things. I mean, would you really just want to eat grilled fish and boiled broccoli for every single meal? And never some oat and raisin cookies? Or you know, bubbly pies or cake or those shaved ices they bring in sometimes during summer…"

"No, I wouldn't," Ginger concedes. "But I wouldn't want only to eat oat and raisin cookies and bubbly pies, either. And I think doing jewellery would feel a bit like that. For me, anyway. Maybe if I were an artistic sort, I'd feel different, but I'm not. And it's the sort of thing where you've got to love it to be good at it." She returns the rest of her sandwich to its wrappings, and grins. "Oh, they aren't all guys; there are a few women. But most of 'em are jewellers."

Elonoora shrugs a bit and concedes that she's going to have to actually make a plate and not just keep nibbling. "It's not pointless though." She's going to stick to that point, even if she doesn't have any on her at the moment. "But sounds like you got a plan, either woodwork or the whole design stuff. Good luck with that." And she sounds like she genuinely means that. "Kinda like with baking. The guys tend to stick towards butchering and stuff and not the actual baking. But hey, that means I'm not stuck doing the butchering." So she's happy with it. And further on down the line she goes, working her way backwards until she's getting to the cold wherry.

"Butchering does sound well worth avoiding," Ginger agrees. "See you later, then." She takes her bottle and her bag of edibles out into the Bowl, where she climbs up to an unoccupied ledge that isn't too far off the ground, and dangles her legs over the edge as she eats.

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