Who

Prymelia, Niyati

What

Sewing, boot altering, and a chat in the Alcove.

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-eighth day of the first month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Secluded Alcove

OOC Date

 

prymelia_default.jpg niyati_default.jpg

secluded_alcove.jpg

Secluded Alcove

A place to knit and sew and drink klah and have a reprieve from everywhere else. It is cozy. There's a hearth here that is kept blazing and cheery, keeping the room warm despite its far distance from the hotsprings. One side of the room is filled to overflowing with throw pillows nearly two feet deep — it makes sense, because the other side has scraps of cloth and stuffing and sewing implements. People come and stitch pillows to toss to that side, kept contained by a low stone ridge; kids like to play in it. Otherwise there are couches and throws and the quiet murmur of conversation.


It's relatively quiet in the alcove, though the room is hardly ever completely empty with all of the work going on and the candidates now housed within the Hold. Speaking of candidates, there's one that's absolutely ensconced herself in sewing. Instead of pillow making, Niyati is embroidering little patches of white with what appears to be white floss. Her legs are criss-crossed and she appears to be quite pleased to absorb the warmth of the room.

Prymelia is on mending duty. A chore that suits her skill set and allows her to escape the frozen climes outside. With a basket in hand and a lump carry sack in hand, she makes as surreptitious an entrance as possible - almost sneaky - and heads for the pile of pillows. But not before dropping a glance to the patches Niyati is working on. "You have a lovely hand," the former trader compliments of the other candidate's embroidery. "What are you making?" Asked as she settles herself amidst the pile of pillows and begins to build a little fort of them about her to shield what she pulls out of that carry sack of hers.

Niyati looks up at Prymelia and smiles. "Thank you! Oh, I'm making medallions to sew on to our robes. I know it's probably silly, but it seems like we've all been through so much together that we should have something special. They're snowflakes with different patterns depending on who they're meant for. Once the hatching is over we can remove them and have them as keepsakes or put them to some other use. Do they have you on mending?"

Satisfied with the height of her pillow fort, Prymelia pairs a pair of men's dress boots from her carrysack and quickly settles them on their sides - all the better to shield them from other prying eyes though Niyati might catch a glimpse. "What a lovely idea!" She exclaims extracting a pair of lime green laces and two pieces of purple fur next. "That's so very thoughtful of you. Thank you." Given in advance. As to her task for the morning there's a nod accompanied by a wicked glint to hazel eyes. "Mending and modifications." Ahem.

Niyati raises an eyebrow but her grin is no less wicked for it. "Oh! This reminds me. I've had a bit of free time here and there, so I've been taking on some robe making." She reaches into the large bag settled by her hip and pulls out a bundle of white to hand over. "We're all so busy and I'm so used to working against deadlines. I thought it was only fair to finish up a few robes. Your snowflake is already applied but it's easily moved."

Thwip, thwip, thwip. Brown laces are pulled from the boots of the same hue. Carefully coiled together they're placed into Prymelia's carrysack and then she begins to thread the brightly colored ones through the metal rings neatening the holes. Pausing, her head goes up and the former trader blinks when a bundle of white is handed over to her. "You made these…for me?" The gesture so unexpected and coming on the heels of a loss still keenly felt at intervals, hazel eyes well with emotion. In a trice the fort pillows are knocked over and unless Niyati darts away, she'll find herself enfolded in a tight hug. "That is just about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She declares wobbly-voiced.

If Niyati is surprised, she doesn't dwell on it long. Instead, she returns the hug, an hand automatically patting Prymelia's back. "I wanted you to have a memento of our candidacy. I've been quite pleased have been a candidate with you." Which is affectionate speech for this weaver. "It's been nice to share a barracks… and a dorm with someone with such a talent for small work and with such a pleasant personality. Something all of my traveling can't really match up to."

Drawing away again with a bright, shimmery smile in place, Prymelia nods and clears her throat then holds the garment against herself. "As usual, Niyati, your work is exquisite." It may just be a candidate robe but she can appreciate the level of skill involved in everything from the neat seams to the delicately embroidered snowflake. Attention upward at the compliment come from the other candidate, the redhead blinks. For many a moment she's quiet and then veers toward humor to cover just what Niyati's words mean to her. "Clearly you haven't seen me lose my temper." Crooked the smile which then softens toward something more sincere. "I've been grateful to have another woman with similar interests. The boys are sweet but…" They're young boys and the older ones (save for Kultir) she's deliberately been giving a wide berth.

"But they're boys and it's like having to room in with younger brothers you never knew you had," Niyati supplies, though it's not without fondness. She laughs then, and shakes her head. "Perhaps not, but I've seen what you've not lost your temper at. Now I see why they tend to try to get the very young. I imagine it's easier to abide a telling off by a gangly teen than it is another adult."

Carefully refolding the fresh white robe, Prymelia turns and sets it with unusually reverent care into her basket rather than the carrysack she has with her. Leaving the pillows fallen where they are, she resettles herself and drags a boot and piece of purple fur into her lap. "Yes!" The former trader agrees with a relieved roll of eyes. "Exactly that! I mean I adore Nate and Linden and Quentin but sometimes it's nice to have a bit of female time." Carefully lining the strip of fur around the outside edge of the boot, Prymelia clips it in place with a few clothes pegs she'd brought with her. "Mmm. You might have a point there. Then again, the younger candidates aren't as in control of their emotions so they tend to get more upset. As for me…" shoulders shift in a shrug and she opens a small pot of glue, "I just remind myself that soon the wide open skies and the great beyond will be mine again to explore." Glancing up she lends Niyati a wink. "And drink. I'd kill for a brandy klah to kill the chill." Clearly her secret supply has run out. "Are you hoping to impress or are you ambivalent about it?"

Niyati takes up her embroidery again. "In one way or another. You may well impress. I suppose then you won't be freezing but you are right. What I wouldn't give to have access to those bottles of wine I'd saved up to ply those Northern masters with." She pauses. "After I'd decided to not tell them to kiss my fashionably clad backside. Impress? Well, I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, beyond telling Desmeth yes because there's no way I could have said no with him being so eager I hadn't even considered that I was becoming a candidate." There's a bit of remembered confusion on her face but that's gone with a hint of a shrug. "Now I'm not entirely sure. I've never been anything but a Weaver, even as a child. It's a bit daunting to think of not going back to being completely independent. Then again I suppose flying thread would never stop being exciting in some sense. What about you?"

A chuckle and an amused peak of elegantly shaped brows issues forth at bribing Northern masters. "I like how your mind works." Prymelia states beginning to spread a thin layer of glue to the hide side of the fur strip. Pressing it firmly against the leather of the boot she pegs it in place again. Another laugh for ass-kissing. "I would love to have seen their faces." Working on the first boot, the former trader takes up the next one and begins the process all over again. "Aye, I hear you there. I wouldn't have said yes if Dhioth hadn't sat his fat arse on my wagon and destroyed it. I figured why not, you know? Free board and lodging and a chance to come up here and poke around while K'ane rebuilds it." Her answer given in a roundabout way - she's simply biding her time. "Were there any eggs that really spoke to you?" This tentatively asked with attention carefully kept on her task rather than flicking a look over to Niyati.

Niyati tips her head. "I've learned that all opinions soften over a good wine. Especially those on how much a woman should have to cover up in this climate." She looks a bit shocked at the mention of the wagon's destruction. "He sat on it? Oh I can't even imagine… To tell you the truth I would have loved to have seen their faces, too, but I very much like living in the Weyr as a Weaver. I won't let that go easily." She pauses. "Well, I suppose if I do impress it won't much matter but I'll have given it up willingly." The fur application is watched with a hint of curiosity but she hasn't asked just yet. "Oh, there was one. The one that looks like it might have a bit of metal to it (cold iron). I did rather like that one. There was another that made me see babies all made out of ice. If they weren't shut down before my womanly bits certainly have now. It may very well be the first time I've ever had the idea of motherliness in my head. But what about you? It really is interesting that they can make you see and feel things from inside the shell."

"Flattened it!" Prymelia confirms but doesn't go on to share the explanation of why Dhioth had done such a thing letting it thread free to be assumed the bronze has really strange and destructive methods of Searching. Another a smile greets Niyati's next. "Aye, having the Weyr as a base has been a lifesaver for me. If Hannah and Renalde hadn't taken a chance on me, I don't know where I'd be now." Probably still stuck back in Igen. With the boots set aside to dry, a ball of bright pink and two thin wooden discs with holes in them are taken up. A delicate shudder pulls through the mahogany-haired candidate at talk of babies made out of ice. Or maybe it's just the topic of babies in general. "I think I'll make a point of staying away from that one. The shiny egg wasn't too bad though it was quite rude." Commenting on hair STYLE and then showing her FAKE diamonds!! "But there was one…" an odd expression appears and then is shoved aside. "I wonder if that's what the dragons inside are like? Nathanael says they're different for each person. Like, their personalities are still forming or something." This added as she begins to wind the bright pink yarn round and round the discs pressed together.

Niyati shakes her head. "At least you'll get a new wagon out of it but really… You know, I do have some glitter if you'd like…" She digs through the bag the robe had been in and pulls up a small pouch. "Made from shell," she explains. "Oh? Which one? You know there was another that reminded me of cool ale. It was so nice until I had to move away. Then I realized I'd have none until after the hatching." The nerve, right? "You know, I imagine that's it. Their personalities probably don't become set until after it's hatched and has grown a bit." She nods in firm agreement of the ice babies. "You know some of them that I touched were all bodies and blood. Wonder if it has something to do with all of … well… you know." Maybe it's best to not mention the dead directly.

Glitter? Shiny stuff? Prymelia fairly pounces the offer. "Ooooh. Oh that would be perfect!" That Niyati may have just figured out whose boots her fellow candidate is currently 'modifying' seems to have escaped the redhead. The pouch is gleefully taken and set aside until she's finished making the pom-poms. Once four have been made, they're attached to the ends of the lime green laces. Laughter and an amused shake of head while she ties the last fluffy pink pom-pom into place. "You're going to have point that egg out to me. I might just stand there all day and hug the shit out of it." Dipping her finger into the glue which looks to be a blend of flour and water with maybe a dash of animal hoof glue added, she smears a swirl up long each boot from ankle to calf. Freckled features pale a little and she glances over to the other young woman. "I heard another rider died in Hannah's flight. Someone stabbed him. Who would do something like that? I never really met him and he was a bit of an ass for taking down about women but he didn't seem…dangerous?"

Niyati laughs. "We'll have to take turns. Poor thing will be exhausted." The glittering is watched and given a nod of approval before she shakes her head at the mention of the rider. "I'd never met him either. By all accounts he was an ass but that's a little much to go about killing riders over. If I killed all the men who've been asses to me I'd have quite a body count. I don't think it was the threat he posed that made whoever did it kill him. I don't know what it /was/, but whoever did it can't be sane. Why kill the means by which you are protected? Do you think that's why we've all been sent here?"

"Deal. You take first shift and I'll take second and if anyone asks we'll just we're keeping it company." Emptying a small heap of the powdered eggshell into her hand, Prymelia pinches some of it up and carefully sprinkles it over the drying glue. Talk of killing men that have been asses to women, earns Niyati a quick flick of eyes which are quickly dropped back task, the redhead's mouth pressed into a grim line. "There's a lot of new riders recently transferred in that fall into the unsavory category. It wouldn't surprise me if that black-hearted bastard, R'nyr did it. It really makes me wonder at the mind of a dragon that would hitch themselves to a man like him."

"Or that the egg is ours and that we intend one of us to get whatever comes out." Niyati chuckles. "You think? I do wonder about the dragon, but I didn't think that they'd let their rider do such a thing." She thinks it over and shakes her head. "Then again, I've never lived in a Weyr, so I only know what one is told about such things. Do you think a dragon would keep something like that quiet? ..although, if the dragon reflects the rider, it could be." The last few stitches are put into the snowflake she's working on and she tucks it into her bag before starting on another. "It's a frightening thought."

Blowing lightly on the applied glitter to remove the excess and aid the drying process of the glue, Prymelia turns her head sideways and considers Niyati for a long moment, her expression carefully shielded. "You would be surprised what some dragons will go along with." She quietly states and begins to gather her things together, handing the other woman her precious pouch of eggshell glitter back. "Everyone can be bought for the right price." Tight her voice and guarded her expression. Not having touched a thing in her basket of mending, the former trader stands with it in one hand and the boots held by their pom-pom'd bright laces in the other. "Be careful in whom you put your faith, Niyati. Not all dragonriders are bound by honor." That having been said she steps careful over a pillow and toward the door. "Let me know if you need any help with those." A nod of chin to the delicate motifs the former weaver is working on.

Niyati considers those words before giving a nod. "Usually I keep my dealings with riders in the area of business. I don't suppose a badly hemmed cuff could anger anyone enough to murder me. Or, well, at least I hope. I'll admit all I've had are the teaching songs and stays within Weyrs to learn anything about Riders. Fortunately I've had rather good experiences with them so far. In fact, I've made my first dragon hat." The offer of help is met with gratitude. "Oh would you? Your work is lovely but I didn't want to impose. There are so many of us that I'm afraid I'll never get done." She gives a wave as Prymelia exits. "I'll gather the rest of the materials and if you ever want to stitch together, just let me know!" With that, she settles back against her pillow. It's freezing out there, she's earned this.

Dragon hat!? Oh yes, Prymelia is definitely going to want to know more about that! She doesn't ask now but it does serve to chase the smoke from her expression and pull a glimmer of a smile back into place. "It would be my honor to work alongside a ranked weaver." She says with a warm smile while hovering in the doorway. "And thank you again for my robe. I shall treasure it always." The whole thing. Not just the motif. "I'll catch up with you at dinner time." And with that, the redhead takes her leave, pretty features gathered about deep lines of thought.

Add a New Comment