Zisiene, Xanthee, Nasrin


The Tea Room bustles with the extra business an impending storm brings, included among them a Zingari, a jr weyrwoman and her assistant.


It is afternoon of the seventh day of the eleventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


The Tea Room, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 30 Apr 2018 04:00




The Tea Room

This shop is easy to miss from the street. It bears the same striped awning that most shops have, this one in shades of lilac and sand, but it has no sign save for a plaque of sandstone hung beside the door, on which a teacup has been carved. When open, the heavy curtain that covers the doorway is pulled aside to allow entry. After stepping through, one will find themselves in a tiny space decorated with classic desert touches.

The walls are whitewashed to increase the sense of light within but the floor is tiled in hues of blue and green, with each tile bearing in its center a brilliant red lotus. There are only five small tables, all of them of dark, heavily carved wood set low to the ground. To sit at one requires reclining on the plethora of pillows and cushions and layered rugs provided for that purpose; each seat is provided with a carved wooden back-prop to rest the pillows against, for those who want spinal support. Tea is served from the service at the rear of the room, where a tiny smokeless hearth keeps water heated, and a row of trays are kept loaded with teapots, tiny cups, and containers for sweetener. There is a small selection of fruits, breads and cheeses also available for those looking for a snack but this is not a place for heavy meals.

Afternoon sees many moving around in the bazaar. This includes Zisiene who slips into the tea room behind a couple of taller people. She slips into a chair, and settles herself, "Chamomile tea?" she asks of one of the servers who stops to take her order.

Settled into the cushions around a back table, Xanthee is hunched over some hidework, her stylus scribbling away as she seems to be copying a report of some kind, eyes darting from one hide to the other. Raven hair is pulled back in a high runner tail, several tendrils escaping the tie to frame her face as she works away dilligently, an empty cup of tea on the table in front of her as well as the crumbs of bread and cheese.

The small, dark cloud on the horizon seldom means gentle rain showers. While the vendors hedge their bets on whether or not a sandstorm will strike them, some are taking no chances. Even the non-business owners are seeking shelter, one of the Weyr's juniors being one of them. She enters not far along behind Zisiene, but takes time in shaking sand out from the many folds of her clothes. "This was always one of my choice spots for ducking a storm," is Nasrin's opening gambit as a scarf is flung over one shoulder. The tiny beads on its rim click as they settle into place. "Updating genealogies or is it tithe time again?" She asks Xanthee, and in a sublime spirit of charity, tells the server approaching she is paying everyone's current tab. Stock up, Zisi!

A nod of appreciation is given to Nasrin as Zisiene adds a plate of cheeses and fruits to her tea. Why not? It's marks she doesn't have to drop, "My thanks," she says to Nasrin, then she's back to sitting in silence as she silently goes over what she has that she can sell, and what she has that she won't live without. Isie's made up her mind. It's time for a move. Too many memories haunt the young woman here in Igen.

"Hmm?" is the distracted response from Xanthee before she tears her emerald gaze away from the work in front of her. When it settles on Nasrin, the gril smiles warmly with a respectful bob of her head, "Ma'am. Tithes indeed, with winter almost here, it's never ending." she says with mock exasperation as she leans back againt the padded rest and stretches her arms over her head eliciting several soft pops as things realign. Reaching up with one hand to rub at her neck, the other is used to signal a server for another drink as she decides it's time for a break. "How's it looking out there?" Xan asks, "Still looking like a storm?"

"You're very welcome," becomes Nasrin's go-to response to Zisiene. The rider's head flicks back to the dainty female as if nagged by something in the back of her mind. "A trifle question: were you once affiliated in Ravene's bakery?" With her hair brimming with static from the rub of a headscarf, she tries to temper it. "The sky's still looking like it got in a fight with New Akzhan and lost." She didn't say that too loudly. "…an ugly purple toward the east, but some are saying it's going to blow over us with hardly a scratch," Nasrin joins Xanthee on a plump pillow. "Time will tell- good thing we're here."

"Ravene was my foster mother," Zisiene answers the question, with a nod. She would have been a fixture within the bakery that's now run by others that are not Ravene. Isie looks down at her tea, "My brother was E'bert," this is said almost too soft to be heard. Then mention of the weather is made, "Not so sure 'bout that myself," Isie says, "Sometimes it's those clouds that look like they won't hit that hit the hardest," pessemism, thine name is Isie.

Xanthee shuffles over to make room for the weyrwoman as she piles up the hides neatly and moves them aside for now. "Good thing indeed. I've spent many shifts serving during storms, people just love to duck in here to get away from the sand." she says with an exagerated roll of her eyes and a playful smirk. "Great for business but the servers are worked off their feet. Much prefer to being on this side of things." she says, referring to being a customer. She follows Nasrin's query of Zisiene and the Zingari woman's answer with interest but remains out of it. When the server brings her tea, she smiles warmly in thanks before she adds her milk and sweetener to taste.

As Zisiene confirms her ties and associations, Nasrin lifts her head and lowers it in a singular reaction of perception. "She cooked better than my mother," she lets slip with only partial regret. Doubtful Xanthee or Zisiene will be speaking to Ustnara at any time in the near future. "And you've a point about the weather. I have no good reason to test anyone's hypothesis." Let's all drink tea and sample scones made with orange zest. "How was Daria's reaction to your leaving?" Evidently not that poor, Xanthee's still allowed through the door…

Zisiene gives a nod, "I was never any good at baking," not true really, but when one aspires to be on the same level as Ravene? Probably very true, "Thank you," is said to the girl who finally brings the plate of cheeses and fruits, then silence as she continues to run through her inventory. She's acquired more posessions than she'd realized, and not the least of which are her blades. After some thought, Isie slides first one sleeve up to reveal a sheathed blade, then the other to reveal its mate. These are removed from her forearms, and placed on the table before her. After some more thought she takes one sheathed blade in each hand, stands, and walks over to Nasrin and Xanthee, "I would like to gift you each with one of my blades. I won't be able to take all of them with me when I leave," now if that isn't something worthy of gossip, likely nothing is.

"I softened the blow by training my replacement," Xanthee remarks to Nasrin's query, "Also, she didn't really seem that bothered when she heard why I was quitting." With a puzzled blink at Zisiene, Xan tilts her head to one side as she raises a ebony brow in puzzlement. "Where are you going that you can't bring knives? You're a trader, don't you have a wagon?" Her emerald eyes narrow slightly as the weyrgirl senses some grade-A gossip to be had. Leaning forward she takes her cup of tea and brings it to her lips for a long sip as her gaze slips from Zisiene to Nasrin.

"Do I look like a social atrocity? Be honest." She asks either woman, still trying to coax the static from her hair. She just had to try 'layers' and, well, that recommendation sucked. While Isie's taking stock of her belongings, Nasrin is trying not to spy from the corner of her eye. She almost perfectly succeeds when the server brings the goldrider her usual rosehip tea. "Ah, just how I like it, perfectly done, Shakli." A column of steam is blown away just as Zisiene approaches with a gift. She's received many gifts over the Turns: bone armlets, a vase that comes up to her chin, caprines, but never a blade. "To deprive you of such a piece…?" Combined with a little basic etiquette: "A serious token from a Zingari." Her head bows in appreciation for the gesture. "I will be sure to honor it." She'll ask the guards on its details. "Good maneuver, that." She smiles eagerly at Xanthee's ingenuity with Daria.

"I have a great many blades," Zisiene says almost cryptically, "Too many to pack up and ship out," read, too many to ship out with what she has, "Igen holds too many memories," it's time to move on. Nasrin is given a nod, then she adds, "I've more than I likely should have," no, no she doesn't. A girl can never have too many blades, but they're easy enough to replace. After all the pair that now rests (hopefully) on the junior weyrwoman, and her assitant's table are replacements for lost blades. Then an appreciative nod is given to Xanthee's ingenuity, "Indeed," she says before she returns to her own table. The pair of blades aren't matched, but they are perfectly balanced and razor sharp, "Please be careful with those. They're very sharp," and Isie would not want to see either woman harmed by what is supposed to be a gift.

Xanthee will never say no to a suprise gift and she does love a new blade. With an incline of her head in the Zingari woman's direction, "I hope you find whetever you are looking for wherever you end up," she calls as Zisiene retreats back to her table. Picking up the blade, she pulls it out of it's sheath just enough to inspect it carefully before replacing it "Thank you, it's lovely." Back to Nasrin she smile with a shrug of her shoulders, "I was here over two turns, it's the least I could do so she didn't feel the loss of my expertise too strongly." she says with a playfully magnanimous expression before she giggles against the rim of her cup taking another sip of her tea.

With an impression of wry humor, "I do not have a good many blades, so your gift will perhaps even my odds." Nasrin, removing the headscarf, wraps it carefully around the arm blade to make it more portable. "May your path be like a skipping stone over a pool, quick, smooth, and hopefully hitting a fish for supper. I think that's how the Zingari quote goes… no! The Idoar. Sorry, it's one of their maxims." She tries a sip of the rosehip tea. "Do you need transport?" There's a weyrling for that.

Zisiene gives a light shake of her head, "I've still got to settle things with Willlimina," and a nod is given to the axiom, "That sounds right," Isie gives Nasrin's looks are given a critical eye before she offers, "You look fine," the Zingari woman is expert in changing the way she looks. A limp here, a slouch some place else. Subtle, but enough to change the way she looks. Obfuscation is some what of a specialty of hers, "I'll book passage to wherever I decide on going," once she has the marks saved up.

"Oh you mean you're leaving the Zingari completely?" Xanthee looks a little shocked at that but it's really not her place to say anything. At Nasrin and the maxim mix-up, she'll stiffle a small giggle with another sip of tea before offering, "That's a clever one, never heard that before." From her pile of hidework, Xanthee pulls a beautifully tooled leather journal, with a green stone inlaid in the cover. Opening it, she scribbles something in it. "Book passage? By ship?" she queries after Zisiene's words.

Nasrin did temporarily give up on her hair. Though now that her new knife is within her scarf, she'll be bare-headed for the short sojourn back to the Weyr. "Our weyrlings from the second to last brood will be practicing trips between in time, should you need to get somewhere without having to face Thread." It's an honest offer, knowing the pitfalls of travelling by land or sea. "Traders have some of the best proverbs, though not all appropriate for the table." She guides a glance to Xanthee and Zisiene, pursuing a soft smirk. "That's pretty," a finger flicks toward Xanthee's ornate journal.

A nod is given before Zisiene takes a sip of her tea, "I will be," is confirmed, the journal is given an appreciative eye, "That is lovely," then she looks from Nasrin to Xanthee, "Could I ask a favor?" she asks, "I have a painting that Ravene commissioned from Journeyman Erikkhan. It's of my brother bathing his dragon shortly after he moved from the barracks to his weyr. I fear it won't hold up to any kind of extended journey," she explains, "It's a silly thing to hang on to, being that I live in a wagon, but," sentiment is hard to let go of sometimes.

Xanthee's smile deepens as she puffs up proudly before she runs her hand lovingly over the cover of her journal. "It was gift from my boyfriend, Malosim. For the one turn anniversary of the first time we met." her eyes wander over the Tea Room, "Which was right here actually." she says with a warmly lopsided smile as she traces around the piece of malachite inlaid in the leather. "In a couple months it will be two Turns." And now Xan will shut up because not everyone needs to know the mundane details of her numerous anniversaries with her Miner-love. To Zisiene, she sits up looking startled as she talks of a painting, turning to Nasrin, unsure who she is adressing with her request, "What are you looking to do with it?" she inquires.

With both hands on the small mug, Nasrin stares at Xanthee while she explains the origins of the beautifully-bound journal, then lifts her eyebrows and tries to bite back a grin. "Well, congratulations," it's so much easier to hide it behind the teacup, which is exactly what she does. "Normally, the Weyr doesn't haul freight or keepsakes," too trifle for their time, "but while the weyrlings practice, it's a way for them to kill two avians with one stone." As she catches a fleeting glimpse of Daria, "Oh she is here, I wanted to congratulate her on her fifth child, I'll be right back. Ensure no one steals my weapon," tea in hand, Nas slides into the back room after the proprietress.

"Store it some where safe," Zisiene answers, "Until I'm settled," wherever she winds up settling, "I was wondering if one of you would keep it safe for me?" it's a simple thing, but perhaps it's too much of an ask of people she doesn't know too well? A nod is given to Nasrin, "I understand," she'll figure something out.

"Oh, that request is much more easily done!" Nasrin elevating her voice only a little at Zisiene's explanation. "Xanthee?" Inviting her assistant first dibs on housing the painting of E'bert. Or maybe she's hinting the teenager could suggest the scene temporarily hang in the council chamber. Decisions, decisions! Poof. Nasrin's gone from view.

"We're two people in a journeyman's room," Xanthee says with an apologetic shake of her head at Zisiene's need for a place to store her painting before she turns her head to Nasrin, considering a moment as if Xan can sense what the weyrwoman is suggesting, they are totally that much in sync. "There is the coucil room? Could use a new painting to liven it up." Cause you wanna keep the atmosphere where important decisions and negotiations as pleasant as possible. With a call after the goldrider of, "Tell Daria Hi from me," Xan turns back to the Zingari woman. "Just let me know, I'll arrange for it to be hung properly and then you know it's safe while you're searching out a place to settle." Always ever helpful, the young assistant gives a weary eye to her stack of hides. "Best finish this lot so I can get home at a reasonable time."

Zisiene gives a nod, "That would be good. Maybe I could just leave it with the Weyr? E'bert was a rider here," Isie's tone is serious, "And the artist of the painting was much beloved. Yes, I think maybe that would be the best solution," Isie hasn't touched the plate of cheeses and fruits, but now she'll wrap the cheeses up in a cloth that's then tucked away in one of the many hiding spots sewn into her skirts, "I'll bring it up to the Weyr once the weather's cleared," for now Isie's going to take her leave, "Thank you."

"Well best to come by tomorrow, I'm headed right home from here once I'm done." Xanthee says as she dips her head in the woman's direction. "Not a problem though. And I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for." she will offer sincerly as she picks her stylus back up and returns to her work now that she is properly refreshed from her short break.

Add a New Comment