Hannah Enjoys A Quiet Moment With R Ave

Logfile from Hannah.
September 08, 2003

And on Pern …
The time is 23:21.
It is late night of the fifty-sixth day of summer.
It is the thirty-seventh Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a summer late night.

Living Cavern (#4190)
The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on an orange shield, trimmed in gold.
Perched near the food are twenty-nine firelizards.
You see Seven-Layer Tiered Cake, Decorations, A tray of hors'd'ouevres, and Thunderstreak Wing Vote Box here.
R'ave is here.
Obvious exits:
Northeast Caverns Kitchens Bowl Southern Caverns

R'ave isn't being particularly interesting. Just another face stuffing itself with a few sips of soup in between very long drags off a wineskin tucked not-so-surreptitiously under his shirt.

Hannah slips into the living caverns, freshly scrubbed from a recent shower, her arms laden with a stack of hides. A perfunctory glance around the caverns yields only an empty seat for her to sit at. She doesn't notice anyone in particular as it is obvious from the circles that she's rather tired. Incidentally, she manages to take a seat near enough to R'ave that she /should/ have noticed him.

And it would be nice if R'ave would jerk his face away from his wineskin long enough to notice the mother of his child, but does he? Of course not. The grungy cad continues knocking them off, watching indifferantly as someone's firelizard slurps in front of him, muzzle-deep in his soup bowl. He curses rather loudly at it, once, but other than that makes no move to do much but get closer to drunk.

Hannah raises her nose and sniffs the air discretely. Smelling wine, it's obvious she wants to say something but with the Weyrleader finally recovering she lacks a reason to keep up the wine restriction. She looks around curiously but since the bronzerider is slightly behind her, he's not noticed yet. So getting down to work, the hides are shuffled and sorted into piles. Hair is tucked behind her ear and just as she's reaching for one pile, goldrider accidentally sends the other pile careening to the floor in a flutter of hides. "Oh, Faranth's sake!" is muttered darkly as she squats down to begin retrieving her work.

R'ave springs like a speeding watermelon to his feet (falling first, to clarify)—he at least recognizes Hannah when there are these thingies floating around her and she's moving, but why are there two of her? Fairly red-eyed and squinting, the bronzer sidesteps toward her and kneels. "Need help?" Your slightly odorous boyfriend is here to help!

Hannah is scrambling to get all the hides up off the floor with minimal amount of notice from the other guests. When one of the guests feet shows up in her line of vision she's nearly tempted to mumble a negative response before the odor catches up with her. Politely, she wrinkles her nose a little and sneaks a little peak up at the man. "R'ave!" is exclaimed as she falls to the side, right onto the floating thingies. "Sure," is said softly with a tentative smile and a slightly confused look. Perhaps to his state of, ah, odor.

R'ave tugs in a manner which he's fairly sure is gentle at the thingies Hannah currently roosts on top of. "I'm gross and nasty. I know," he apologizes sadly, turning droopy eyes to the goldrider. "Soquilith was worse until he took a bath yesterday. Coward." Sitting gingerly on the piles of her thingies, he extrapolates about some inane circumstances that have prevented him from bathing for awhile.

Hannah reaches out to gingerly rub the fabric of his shirt between her index finger and thumb. "Mmmnn. Maybe you need a dip in the ocean?" She struggles to resist the urge to pinch her nose shut in an effort to get some relief. "At least you're back now," she murmurs softly, giving him a sappy enough look. A good enough girlfriend not to mention the state of drunkeness too. Slowly she begins to stack her "thingies" into a pile, pulling them out from beneath her rear and thighs.

Evidently fascinated into silence by Hannah's control over her limbs, R'ave is good to hunch up and watch her be productive. He does keep a steady low-toned bleat going, however. "I don't like being this dirty, but Soquilith bet me he could go longer, and then the big turd forgot about it. Damn dragons…"

Hannah coughs a little in an attempt to hide her snickers. "Did he now?" Sensing his interest in her stacking, she slowly places one hide on top of the other, carefully lining up the corners so that they're perfectly nestled onto each other in a nice neat little stack. Tugging a little on the ones that R'ave happens to be squatting on, her eyes lift to give him a couple of wide eyed blinks as she tugs a little more, but not interrupting his bleating. Lips are hard pressed not to lift in a smile.

R'ave squirms out of the weyrwoman's way onto his feet. "You're good with … paper. Let's go swim." He bats his eyes at her, his smile broad and silly and tipsily inviting. "Or are you too busy?" A wobbly toe is cocked at her paperwork.

A few giggles escape, it's the toe really, causing her to sit back on her haunches. "No, I'm not too busy. This can wait," Hannah says before standing, clutching the neatly stacked hides to her chest. She adds them to the first pile she had originally set to the side. "I can leave these here…" Voice trails off as yet another whiff assails her senses. "I'm more than willing to go for a swim."

"Actually, I think I should go to the baths," R'ave says, very greenly. Why? Because he hides the hard stuff in towel baskets.

R'ave goes home.

[end of log]

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