The following is a log of roleplay on Threadfall MUSH, logged by Z'vind.
All references to the world and characters of Pern based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyrightę 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern« is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.
Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)
Vibrant environs enclosed by smooth stone walls, these caverns are the very heart of bustling Weyr life. The largest is massive and designed to house almost the entire population of the Weyr at once, with tables and benches arranged in perfectly neat rows that run almost the entire length of the half-circle cave. Tapestries are flung from the ceiling, draping down in bright hues of Istan black and orange as well as colorful scenes of past heroics detailing all the fiery glory of Pernese history. Hearths line the walls, at least one of which constantly burning with a pot of stew and a pitcher of klah set there to keep warm.
Tunnels branch off from these central caverns, leading deeper into various parts of the Weyr. To the east lie the infirmaries, both human and draconic, beyond a small wooden door to minimize the noise that will filter through. West are the kitchens and the storerooms from which emanate delectable smells at nearly all hours of the day or night, drudges bustling to and from with dishes and platters. Stairs lead down into the lower caverns while a man-sized tunnel cuts through the stone and back out to the bowl. Smaller tunnels diverge here and there as well.
Lower Caverns Stairs Kitchens Infirmary Bowl
Goldean watches both as he smiles beneath the mug of klah...idly eyes dance to other people
Kayla studies her for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not it's worth giving her name out. Deciding that it'd be better to be nice to the host rather than be kicked out, she lets a smile play at her features. "My name's Kay."
Jalani nods. "Well met, then Kay. Please, do help yourself. Have you traveled far?"
Goldean notes to Kayla before a conversation starts, "I'm Goldean." Just thought you might like to know that egotistical psychopathic klah addict has a name
Z'vind breezes in -- as much as he can under a layer of chaff and grime-encrusted tunic, shoulders stooped, steps not overlarge. He strides through caverns and crowd alike, shooting a subtle wave to Goldean along the way, before bending to peer into an alcove. He's not here, you see.
Tsk, tsk, Z'vind. Jalani sees all. "Hello there, weyrling. Your lifemate asleep, I would gather?"
Goldean waves, "Hey Za...Z'vind." He's gotta get used to these honorifics. Also the gallon of klah does not help
Kayla glances towards Goldean, studying him for a moment as well before giving a nod to acnowledge him. She turns back to Jalani, the smile returning. "Not /too/ far, but far enough to be hungry." She looks towards Z'vind, curiosity clearly written on her features. Instead of waying anything, she turns once more to pile a plate full of food.
Z'vind jerks upright, grey eyes darting too-calmly to Jalani. And why did the other lad have to-- "Hello," he mutters; turns around with hands in pockets. "Yes, Kealath's asleep, and I'm getting something for us. That's all." He flashes a smile towards the trio. And again for good effect, "hello there."
A mop of black caps an awkward seeming demeanour, dripping askew over one ear in unpractised roguishness. His face is highly angular, sly curve of cheek almost childish in the peak of youthful delicacy. Grey eyes and clipped chin straggle casually together with the rest of this youth's sturdy but slightly lanky form, long legs claiming a striding gait as an obscure slur marks alto voice.
His outfit appears smart for once, for its a uniform: black shorts underneath a bright gold tunic that matches his Istan Weyrling's knot exactly. The tunic is untucked, it's shimmering threads loose over a non-existent belly; a knot's loop intrudes upon his shoulder, tangling a single cord of brown.
He is 14 Turns, 5 months, 8 days old.
Jalani points to her knot with a pinky. "Hello, what?" She smiles at the the weyrling, the same sort of smile that a predator gives her kill just before it pounces. A quick aside is given to Kayla. "Far enough from where?"
Small in stature, diminutive in structure, Jalani could easily be mistaken for a teenager, until one sees the easy sensual confidence in which she carries herself. Her age is difficult to discern, but middle twenties seems appropriate. Large, deep blue, almost violet eyes dominate a pleasant but otherwise quite ordinary face that is framed by the soft curls of her short jet black hair. Her small almost pug-like nose is usually peppered with freckles, much to her chagrin.
Jalani is clothed in the typical working uniform of a member of the Weyrlingmaster staff at Ista Weyr. The outfit consists of a short-sleeved shirt of light but durable white cotton, with gold and black embroidered stripes about two fingertips long running diagonally along the neckline and sleeve ends. Upon the right sleeve, just below the shoulder, is embroidered a green dragon, indicative of her lifemate, Meriath, while the left sleeve is adorned with the gold-hued patch of the Weyrling Wing, its outside edge trimmed in narrow black braid. She wears black linen shorts, cleverly designed to provide maximum practical comfort while flattering her trim figure. A pair of sturdy sandals complete her outfit.
Kayla looks over her shoulder, "From here, of course." Looking back to the table, she figures her plate is full enough of wherry, greens, and sweetrolls. She lifts it in her hands, balancing the drink on her fingers as well. She looks around before her gaze rests on Goldean. "May I join you?" Why not make friends with the locals?
Jalani blinks at the lass. Oh dear, Jalani is curious. Not good. She takes her klah mug, still keeping one eye on Z'vind. "So, tell me, Kay. Where do you hail from?"
Being startled doesn't bode well for Z'vind; he snaps into full-attention -- a salute and rapid-fire "Assistant Weyrlingmaster, ma'am." The other hand discreetly slides to his nape, rubs at the dust clinging there. "My apologies." He just freezes there for the moment, eyeing Kayla too, because she's there and they're there.
Jalani lazily wriggles her fingers at Z'vind in response. "Weyrling..." Letting him off the hook, she returns to her newest prey.
Kayla lets out a little sigh before slipping into a chair across from the klah drinker before diving into her meal. Apparently, she is eating to avoid the question. Will it work? who knows.. She looks up at Jalani, singaling that she's eating and talking can wait until later.
Kind Jalani. Magnanimous Jalani. Z'vind bows, and turns back to rummage in his nook. He intercepts a drudge too, for a question involving a few 'where's' and 'what's' from the poor puzzled girl.
Jalani coughs, staring at the girl."It is rude, you know, not to answer reasonable questions."
Kayla speaks through a mouth full of wherry, "It's also rude to speak with your mouth full, you know."
Jalani rolls her eyes. "True enough."
And that drudge is soon swept off down the stairs by an impatient Z'vind, who mumbled an excuse beforehand.
You follow a flight of stairs deeper into the Weyr caverns.
(Pause for phone, and later--)
Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Jalani rolls her eyes "I just asked my lifemate if she heard about you arriving by dragonback. Funny, none of them remember giving you a lift."
Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Kayla crosses her arms, leaving her plate half bare. She grumbles something about the resuarces of riders before idly asking, "Ever heard of a boat?"
You follow the stairs upward to emerge in the living caverns.
Jalani blinks ever so sweetly. "Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I have." She smiles. "Are you planning on staying with us long?"
Kayla hmphs at the blinking before looking to her plate. "Maybe.." That's right.. never commit yourself to anything.. Heh..
Perhaps not surprisingly, Zar has to return through here. He looks cleaner now around the edges, less scruffy, dark hair plastered down in its military cut. Ignore the bundle he totes on his shoulder, and it's a normal weyrling appearance in the caverns. Lids drooping, he settles near Kayla's place, mug o' klah appearing in one hand.
Kayla blinks at the difference in the weyrling, even /if/ it's not that much of one. She looks towards her drink, staring at it a moment before taking it and sipping.
Determination, defiant, dinamic, dilligent are words that come to mind when you spot this budding woman. Eyes ready to stare down any enemy that stands in her way, she carries an odd wary expression about her. Raven hair the color of the night's sky at it's darkest streams down her back until it bunches in curls at her waist. Her face usually is flushed under the deep tones of a tan of someone who'd been in the sun far to long for someone her age. A smudge is forever appearing upon her nose, seeming to dull the haughty mannor she holds herself with. Only reaching 5'3, she holds promise to grow, for her legs take up most of that space. She looks rather.. skiny, her clothing baggy enough to hide her muscular curves and lean teenaged body.
She has the eyes, stance, and abilities of a thief, the morality of a holder, just enough of both mixed in to her appearance to make one wonder wheather or not they should trust her. Eyes the color of steely grey clouds draw attention to the center of her face to a dainty nose and pouty lips. Her clothing, baggy as it is, manages to keep her looking respectable, dark greens and violets staying clean through all types of abuse.
Kayla looks about the age of 14 Turns, 1 months, 24 days old.
Jalani chuckles. "Well, I will be looking out for you, Kay. Want to make sure you have a nice time while you are here." She waves to Z'vind. "See you in the barracks, later."
Jalani disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Kayla looks after the woman, brow raised as she replaces her glass on the table. Since /that/ conversation's over, she digs into her rappidly dissapearing meal once more.
Istan drinks can be trusted, most of the time. Really. Z'vind quaffs a mouthful of klah and uses it as mouthwash, sparing the other arm to wave at his weyrlingmaster. "Later--" and if he has his choice, it will be quite a while later.
So it is that Z'vind drinks, and fingers the furs spread across his upper arm, and watches Kayla's vanishing food. He clears his throat, then addresses her: "Well. You aren't here just to /eat/, are you?"
Kayla glances towards the weyrling out of the corner of her eyes as she eats, wherry dissapearing before the greens do. Finally, only sweetrolls are on her plate. She leans back in her chair, taking one, taking bit by bit to pop into her mouth. "Depends."
But there are no others around their immediate vicinity, or so Zar thinks, and thus he takes the liberty to lean forward and plant fingers on one of Kay's sweetrolls. "Depends on?" he prompts, tone not unkind. "There are many chores that need doing in this weyr, I've heard."
Kayla eyes the hand on the sweetroll, a frown crossing her lips. Hey.. she did the work to get them and bring them back and she was gonna eat all five. Ahh well, he already put his hand on it, so she goes back to eating her own. "Yeah, that little tidbit's gonna entice me to stay.." Chores. Bleh. "Depends on whether I like it or not."
Z'vind has dirty fingers, yes, which he retracts to put 'roll in his mouth, with a deliberate motion. "I don't like it," he admits then. "But you might." Not that that helps any. He gets to his feet, studies the corner once again; plucks at the bundle. "Enough. I was going to get back to you, I promised," he snaps into thin air, then regards Kayla with a barely disguised scowl. "Pardon me. And the name's Z'vind, by the way."
Z'vind flees, puppy to his master, smoke from the fire.
You head out through the narrow tunnel to emerge in the bowl.
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