Who

M'noq, K'vvan

What

M'noq for some reason really wants purple ink.

When

It is sunset of the thirteenth day of the first month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Garden Terrace

OOC Date 22 Jan 2018 07:00

 

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"I have… A Book."


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Garden Terrace

Tucked-away and bejeweled, here is a hidden treasure of Southern, beckoning and beguiling those who may trod the entrance of weyrbridge: steps cut upwards, switching back and outer-railed, to terminate in a sheltered ledge of stone. Here, greenery blooms in fragrant profusion, scenting the air and quieting the minds of those who stroll amongst the cultivated rows of cultivars. Flowers, and tiny fruit-bearing trees limn the walkways. Tables and benches scatter organic throughout the rambling concourse, providing easy rest for those who challenged the stairs… or the craft shops beyond the scrolled wooden door at the innermost part of the terraced ledge.


It's evening, with still a bit of lingering light and heat from the summer day, but it almost seems pleasant cmpared to the heat earlier. M'noq has a book tabbed with a number of markers, and he's going from plant bed to plant bed, crouching down and peering at the leaves and flowers, comparing them to the pictures in the book. For some reason he didn't specifically explain, M'noq brought along K'vvan, even if the man had some kind of other obligation. "Think this one is this plant here? The flowers look quite similar, don't they?"

K'vvan is trailing along but there is a confused-as-fuck look on his face. He listens, even glances at the book and the plant, and then shakes his head. "I have no idea what the shards you are even looking at. Don't you have someone who knows plants - or are you poisoning someone?" Because ANYTHING COULD GO HERE.

M'noq brandishes his book at K'vvan. "I have… A Book." That should be enough, right? "I asked a librarian a for help, and he handed me a book. So, I have a book." And for sure that's should be everything K'vvan needs to know about that. "Besides, don't you know a few things about plants? Isn't that a Search and Rescue lesson?" No idea why those things would be related, but in M'noq's mind they are, so he brought along K'vvan. "And no, this isn't for poisoning. I wouldn't be asking a librarian for that."

"Unless it kills you - no. Not particularly. You want Rielle for this shit, or a hunter." Or literally anyone but K'vvan. Well, maybe not anyone, but MOST PEOPLE. K'vvan eyes the book and the plants again. "Tell me why you asked a librarian instead of a healer or farmer?"

Inspiration strikes after enter is hit, "Or a cook?"

M'noq makes a face. "Because the healers thought I was wasting their time, and the farmers thought it was crazy. I was hoping to do some experiments with colored ink, but I haven't had much luck in finding an actual person who can help. And that is why I have the book." Again he brandishes it. "Besides, you can read, can't you? And you can look at pictures. It can't be that hard to identify plants, can it?"

"So… you want a weaver." Y'know. Someone who works with fabric. K'vvan has placed his eyes on his hips and is looking like M'noq might have gone just a little bit mad. "Do you need something cold to drink?"

M'noq does get a little intense with his obsessions, which is probably why he didn't tell K'vvan what he was up to before he dragged him out here. "There are differences between inks and fabric dyes," he objects. "Though… I guess I wouldn't mind a cold drink." He's still investigating the plant he thinks is in the picture, plucking a leaf off and crushing it experimentally between his fingers.

K'vvan snaps his fingers, doing the thing where he's "helpful" without actually being "helpful". "A harper then. I know of this guy… no, he's dead." The greenrider scratches at his neck as he ponders the solution to that problem.

M'noq is still a little preoccupied with the crushed leaf. "Fine, you go find me a harper who can help. Preferably one who's not dead." He knows K'vvan hates harpers, so that's a request that will never be acted upon. "Here, hold this," he says, pushing his satchel and the book at K'vvan. That would totally be helpful, you know.

"That's funny." VERY FUNNY. K'vvan takes up the satchel and book. Hopefully M'noq wasn't looking for anything in particular because after tucking the satchel under an arm K'vvan begins to flick through the pages of the book. "Cures Colic. That would have been useful a few turns ago…."

"See, you should learn herbs too. Not poisonous ones," M"noq adds, in case K'vvan has any more brilliant ideas. Suddenly, he gasps, and holds out his fingers for K'vvan to see. "Look! It's purple!" His fingertips have a definite stain. That'll probably never come out. "Ooh, and it tingles a little…." That can't be good.

K'vvan glances up from the book to see M'noq's now-purple fingers. Then the tingly. "….. don't make me have to talk to healers today please." It's a serious beg.

"I'm sure it's fine," M'noq says. "I feel better already." But he digs around in his satchel (thanks, K'vv, for holding it!) with his clean hand until he comes up with a rag he can wipe his hand with. "Oh, I should take a cutting and plant it back at the weyr. I could have an unlimited supply of purple ink." Not that he really uses that much purple, but maybe that's just because it's difficult to find.

K'vvan will be helpful and hold the satchel for easy digging about. "If it gives a purple ink. Aren't you suppose to… mix it with shit?" Ink making is not a skill K'vvan has apparently!

"Well, yeah. You can mix it with other purple things, and the color can get better and last longer." M'noq is still rubbing at his stained fingers. Yeah, that's never coming out. He gives up and stuffs the rag into his pocket. "The problem with using botanicals alone is they fade so quickly. I have some things back at the weyr I want to try." Cue the weird experiments.

"Is it safe or do I need a new place to sleep for a few nights till you are done?" K'vvan has been making the extra effort to sleep there since their last disagreement, a quiet way of trying to make up for punching M'noq and running away.

"Why wouldn't it be safe?" M'noq says, and as soon as he does, a little thread of paranoia wraps around him, making him worry. He shakes his head, trying to clear it of any weird ideas. "It isn't like ink will catch on fire or anything. And that isn't usually something I play around with in bed." So, perfectly safe for K'vvan. Unless his kids get into it or something, and then they turn everthing purple.

"What do you mix it with? Fumes or whatever?" K'vvan is sure this is not safe M'noq, and it's obvious from the way his face is all wrinkly-doubtish. "Yeah, out of bed. No one needs to know," a glance to make sure they're alone, "where I touch you."

M'noq gives K'vvan a strange look. "Ink shouldn't be so caustic it eats through paper, either," he points out. "I mean, you shouldn't eat any of it, but otherwise…." Perfectly safe. Probably. Until they all get lead poisoning or mercury poisoning or whatever. His eyes widen a little at K'vvan's last and he edges a little closer. "You say that like you have something in mind…."

K'vvan glances about again and then reaches forward to pull M'noq in for a quick kiss. "No, not in particular. Just," y'knoq. Purple. K'vvan just trails off with a shrug. Then he'll be helpful and takes up the the satchel over his shoulder.

M'noq now has his mind on other things besides inks, thanks to that kiss. "You said something about wanting something cold to drink?" Maybe the heat in the garden terrace is starting to get to him. He'll even take back the book, if K'vvan is tired of carrying it. Hopefully he won't be leaving purple fingerprints over the pages.

"I did?" K'vvan might have, but if he did, he doesn't remember it. Lalala~ Hitching the satchel higher on his shoulder K'vvan turns so his body is pointing in the direction of 'out'. "Lead the way if you want?" K'vvan will follow~

"You absolutely did," M'noq says, falling into step beside K'vvan as they move out of the gardens. They won't be going to the Kitten, but there are other places to get iced klah or cold juice, and they can talk about things that are as indelible as ink, but easier for the two to agree on.

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