Lisette, Allash


Lisette has some inventorying and rescues Allash from a dreary, dull shift.


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


Southern Weyr

OOC Date


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A vast and sprawling cavern, the main storage area of the weyr is well-tended by the loving and stern hands of those who oversee the bounty stored within. Depending on the time of day, it is a place of illuminated neatness, stacks of dry goods and foodstuffs labeled clearly… or it is a place of werelight and stygian darkness that taunts those who would dare challenge the depths thereof.

It is the forty-third day of Autumn and 63 degrees. The recent rains have left everything wet and muddy, but Rukbat shines brightly overhead.

Are there things of such value in here that posting a guard would be worthwhile? It's indeed possible that there are. However Lisette doesn't exactly hold the clout that would have her hanging out in those sections. Instead she's strolling through one of the very narrow tunnels, a clipboard pressed closed to her chest. It looks almost as if she's been working (gasp, yes), if that pencil behind the ear is any indication. She stops at an intersection, staring up speculatively at sign posted that explains down which tunnels what items are being stored. The teenager peeks at her list in front of her and then up at the sign, eyes narrowing as she takes a breath and appears to be contemplating something.

There are, in fact, things of great value in the Stores. Under lock and key. But it's not things the guardsman guards. Unless safety is a thing? Safety's totally a thing. The young man is posted at the closed-off entrance to a disused cavern beyond him. Alert and aloof and more than a little bored at being stuck in a part of the Weyr where people were few and far between. At the sound of footfalls his posture, an easy -though strangely alert- slouch, straightens, his head lifting canine-like. Ears perked. He clears his throat, "Help you find something, Miss?"

It really is empty down here. It's a wonder that she didn't notice him when she first strolled onto the scene, hitching her shoulders in a bit of momentary fright, she lets out a quick exhale of breath. It's just a guard. Posture relaxing, Lisette pulls the pencil from behind her ear and points up at the sign. "Could you tell me which one of those points towards where the uh…" And here she glances down at her list again. "Cold, uh, stow-rage is?" Her expression is carefully schooled, but it's clear she's not entirely convinced she just read the word 'storage' outloud correctly.

It's no surprise she didn't notice him, stock still in the shadows. And he'd called out from rather further away than normal hailing distance. It's so quiet down here. He cranes his head to look around, peering warily between the shelves. The stores are empty enough. No one would wander into the Dark Caverns if he stepped away for just a minute, right? Right. Allash straight up abandons his post, ambling over to regular speaking distance. He grins, "Sorry, didn't mean to give you a fright." He looks along the pencil to the sign and back down again. His brow furrows, blinking at the question the girl puts forward and her halting pronunciation. Huh. "Yes'm." He scratches at his jaw, "Ah, I think cold storage is this way." With another glance at his post and around he gestures for the young woman to accompany him.

"Storage." Lisette repeats the word, looking down at it on her page as if studying it intently. "That's not so bad." Seeming rather proud of herself for not mangling it entirely, she tucks the pencil back behind her ear and looks at Allash with more scrutiny. She peers past him to the hole in the wall he was guarding. "Why don't they just block it off?" The girl wonders idly as she falls into step alongside him. "Have you gone down there? Is it dangerous ground? Animals?" Likely she doesn't need a full escort down to the cold storage room, but any company is good company when all you're doing is counting things all day long. Which, if he were inclined to glance down at her clipboard he'd notice it was an inventory sheet.

Bored social guard is bored. The repetition gets a querulous cocking of the head and a curious narrowed look, quickly hidden if she looks up. "Oh no, Miss. Crew of weyrhunters went down there a week ago…" He looks very serious, "Something about three-headed tunnelsnakes." So, so serious. Yeah. Totally serious. "They haven't come back. I'm guardin' the door for the rescue party." A twitch of lips. Any company is good company when you're just standing in place all day. That it is an inventory sheet is noted. The quality of the girl's handwriting noted. The cant of her head. The typically Southern clothing that shows more than it ought. Pale skin. Green eyes. Allash doesn't make any secret of looking. At the clipboard.

Lisette cocks a dark eyebrow at him, considering the weight of his story. Her expression is mildly incredulous on the surface, initially. "Really." She finally utters, affecting an air of breathless surprise for the three-headed monsters down below in the tunnels. "A whole week. Aren't you afraid that the tunnelsnakes could come up from the dark and bite each of your legs off?" Three headed tunnelsnake. Each of your legs. The innunendo is intentional and clear, except for where her face is artfully wrought into one of total innocence. - The handwriting could be worse. It does appear to be something measured and carefully written, like you might except from an older school age child. Except for where Lisette is basically a grown woman.

Found out! Innuendo noted. Feigned innocence noted! He shifts, wincing goodnaturedly, Why did women always have to go there? With the damage to the… ow. He lifts his head in an easy laugh, "I was gonna say 'two,' but that wasn't nearly scary enough. And more than three?" Pfft, "You'd never've believed that." He looks back towards the Cavern, "It is closed off, though," to answer the earlier question, "But it's not so secure someone couldn't get in there and get hurt." They've slowly been descending and the air, while usually drier than Southern's damp swelter, is noticably cooler. "You a clerk?" Or a whatever does inventorying.

She ducks her head at his winced expression and laughs, "I'd never have believed two. What is it they like to say…?" Lisette trails off briefly with a small smirk for him, "The simplest lies are the best?" His glance back has her doing something similar, a quick casted look over her shoulder before reassuming with eyes forward. "People could go anywhere in this weyr and get hurt. There's lots of tunnels that are open they probably shouldn't be." Not that she'd know anything about that. Cough. "I'm… an assistant to an assistant. Or a charity case. Nora sends me around to do things like this." She flashes him a quick smile accompanied by a shrug. "It's kept me out of trouble."

The Guardsman arches a brow, "Experienced at lying, are ya?" His expression, a tightly wary grin, is belied by eyes crinkled with amusement. "I'll have remember that," he taps the side of his head. Her tip. Or her expertise. Both, probably. As to his own poor lying, "It wouldn't do to for a Guard to be starting believeable rumors, would it?" He nods, sobering a bit at Lisette's assessment. The Weyr is dangerous place. "Nora. The Assistant Headwoman," said with no small measure of respect. His brow furrows a bit, "I thought the Headman governed the Stores." More respect. Huh. Adminsitrative turf wars? Something to steer clear of. ASAP. "Oh, look. Here we are," Allash points ahead at the sign, 'Cold Storage.' Set into the walls are a series of heavy, iron-banded doors. The air is distinctly cool here. The guard draws to a stop. Finally drawling an introduction, "Allash, Miss," he supplies then bows, hand to belly with an inclination of his head. Quick and polite. "I should get back to my post. Have," his brow furrows, "Fun with your… that." The inventorying.

"Experienced?" Lisette repeats, appearing contemplative. "I don't know if I'd go that far." It's spoken coyly, a deceptive little dodge as she breaks from his side to put her hand onto the handle of one of the doors. "He governs all of it I suppose. But he certainly can't inventory and check it all by himself, the Weyr is a big place." If there are turf wars, she's doesn't seem to be aware of any. Tucking the clipboard under her arm, she gives the heavy door an enthusiastic tug, jerking it open. "Lisette." She replies to his introduction, smile distinctly amused as he bends at the waist. "Have fun with your empty hallway. Be safe." A wink is tossed over her shoulder at him before she lips into the cold chamber beyond.

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