Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are fifty firelizards.
You see OOC NOTICE (look sign), White Clay Egg Pot, Decorated Tree, EggNog-Merry Berry Punch-Cookies!, Ini, Mara, and Thief here.
Aislinn and Talamia are here.

Talamia fluffs up her hair, trying to dry the last little bit. When it's dry she pours herself some klah and walks over to the table. "do you mind if I join you?" it'd be nice to have some company. "I've never been one to sleep for a long time." she turns and smiles at other person who just walked in.

Aislinn winds her slender fingers around her own earthenware mug of klah, letting its concentrated warmth diffuse into her fingertips, as she periodically has to stop and do, lest her hands go numb. Someday that girl will learn to make a pair of gloves for herself. "Not at all," she dismisses, setting down the tapestry half in her lap and half atop the table for a moment, and stretching her arms down. Ugggh. "It was too cold in the dorms for me," she admits smilingly, "At least there's a hearth in here."

Linora clumps down from the crafting area, taking the wide stairs two at a time, a distinct chill following her. Still shivering, she dashes over to the hearth and stands warming her hands for a few minutes before she even begins to open her furlined jacket. A little belatedly, she flashes a bright grin to the others there. "Hey," she greets pleasantly enough, not quite warm enough for a proper good morning. "'s colder on the Star Stones," she offers. "Crafting area's not too bad, though." She dishes herself a large mug of hot broth and turns back to face the others. "I'm Linora. Starcraft apprentice." Senior. Whatever.

Talamia sits down at the table, nodding her agreement. "It is rather cold here..." she's still not quite used to it, it never seemed to be as cold as this in Grinstead. She wraps her fingers around the cup, feeling the warmth spread up her fingers and hands. Looking up she smiles again at the Starcrafter. "I'm Talamia, but call me Tal." She hates her full name.

"Och," Aislinn declares, curling both hands around her klah, now. "Maybe /I/ should take up Starcrafting, then." It's bound to be warmer than the resident dorms. Still, she waves the woman over and tenses her shoulders up again with another stretch. "I often wonder why I even left Ista in the first place." Oh beautiful, warm Ista.

Linora nods emphatically, pale eyes wide. "Gar's never cold. That's where the main Hall is." She shrugs and drops into an empty chair, careful not to spill her broth. "I'm only here now on accounta they needed new charts of the northern skies. A whole Turn's worth. I'm kinda getting used to it, though." The cold, that is. Even though she really doesn't like it. "Nice ta meet ya, Tal," she adds belatedly. The other woman gets a bright grin. "Nah, all the star-watchin' happens up on the Star Stones. Least here. You could move t'Gar, though." Being just as warm as Ista. Which Lin should know. "Or take up weaving. If you're gonna sew anyhow." Beam.

Talamia looks curiously at Lin, "Is stargazing really as complicated as it seems?" she's seen those charts and they don't really make any sense to her. But someone must understand them. She sips at her klah, sighing as it leaves a warm trail from her mouth down to her stomach. "I don't think I'll ever get used to the cold." why did she think to come here? when she could have stayed at Grin and taken up farming.

"Weaving? Oh... no, no. I don't think I could do this /all/ the time. It keeps me hands busy." And that's about the extent of it, as Aislinn glances down at the temporarily abandoned tapestry with a little wrinkle of her nose. "I much prefer being put to work out in the stables, honestly, but it's colder out there than it is in here." A thoughtful sip of the klah, and then she adds a touch belatedly, "I'm Aislinn."

Linora fixes a bright grin on Tal for her interest, putting down her broth long enough to finally shrug out of her jacket. "Well, just lookin' at the stars is easy," she says teasingly. "Y'gotta learn what it is you're lookin' at, though, t'start t'make sense of stuff." She shrugs. "I been in the Craft 'bout four Turns now, an' if this project goes well, I oughta finally walk the tables soon." Which would be worth all the work. And all the cold. Another sip of broth, and she nods quickly at Aislinn. "Poor runners," she says seriously. "But don'tcha get warm with all that heavy work? Charting's just a buncha sitting still." She makes a face. "That's the part I /don't/ like so much," she adds. "An' I miss swimmin'." How that relates to starcrafting, she doesn't say.

Talamia nods and grins at Linora, "well I only know the, what was it again...oh yeah the golden mark?" yeah she thinks that's what you call it, she doesn't know what the others are called and will probably never know. She looks over at the tapestry on the table, thinking just how long it's been since she's tried her hand at it and she wasn't to bad either. "It's nice to meet you, Aislinn. That's a nice piece you're working on." Well that Aislinn was working on, she's just glad she's finally got to know a few faces around here. Most of the time people are too busy working to stop and chat.

"I'm afraid it's not mine," Aislinn laments thoughtfully, gazing down at the wrinkled tapestry. "I was just mending it." Makes her feel useful, doncha know. She turns her gaze back to Linora again, smiling crookedly. "I suppose you're right. I'd rather be hauling water buckets than sitting around looking at the sky." Even if she does that very often, anyway.

Linora brightens at the familiar words, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, well, there's lots more t'see 'sides constellations. Planets, and comets..." She cuts herself off abruptly, realizing belatedly that non-crafters probably aren't as interested in that stuff as she is. Fortunately, Aislinn's comment gives her something else to talk about, and she gives her a smile. "Sure, if they're not frozen and stuff, huh?" Pale eyes twinkle as she takes another warming sip of her broth. "I always liked lookin' at the sky... well, it's warm at Ista, laying out on the beach an' stuff an' watchin' the stars..." Her smile turns a little rueful then, and she shrugs. "But I'd rather haul buckets too, than sit hunched in a dusty archive. The study area upstairs is nice, though." Not musty at all.

Talamia has disconnected.
Talamia falls asleep.

At first glance this young woman seems to be several turns younger than she really is. On closer inspection you notice teh fine lines around the corners of her pale brown eyes and her generous mouth. Her tiny button nose and the way her small but well formed ears peek out through her silver blond hair reinforces the appearance of youth. This appearance is contradicted again by teh way her figure curves in and out in all the right places.
Her ample top half is covered by a simple white top, with short sleeves. The only decoration is a piece of string that laces the middle of the top up. Her slender legs are covered by a dark blue skirt that flows down to her ankles hiding the black sandals that wrap around her little feet. Around her neck is a fine silver chain that glints in the sunlight.
She is sleeping.
Talamia is 18 Turns and 27 days old.

Slender and sinewy, she is clearly a woman of lissome, wiry strength rather than the brutish force of some. While her curves are womanly and build lithe, she does appear to be a touch on the short side, most females having a few fingerspans on her, anyway. Her eyes are limpid pools of smoldering amber, a color rarely found in nature that lends her irises a gilded, wolfish appearance, for all their otherwise reserved calm, waxing poetic even. While neither tanned nor pasty, her skin has a healthy tone to it, complimenting warm sienna hair that is cut in no particular manner, a few haphazard strands of bang daring to stray across her brow and temple while the remainder of gold and sepia-threaded tresses are bound fast down her back in a loose tail. Practicality over beauty, sensibility over vanity.
This same statement appears to hold true for her chosen apparel, it being sheerly functional and nothing outside the norm. Rather, in fact, the only means the woman has to catch someone's eye lies in her sheer simplicity. A pale tunic, bleached white in hue and of some soft material turned down in delicate folds at her neckline, and most often with painstakingly hemmed sleeves rolled to just beneath her elbows, exposing the wiry muscle of her forearms occasionally. A vest drawn over this, of wherhide infinitely deep taupe-brown in hue, cross-laced up the front in lieu of buttons. Slacks of a similar shade and material conform both modestly and flattering to her legs, halted only by tanned boots continuing this similar fad of earthy color found in the girl. Perched on Aislinn's shoulder is Ghede. Perched on Aislinn's shoulder is Mim. Perched on Aislinn's shoulder is Snarks.
She is awake and looks alert.
Aislinn is 17 Turns, 7 months, and 6 days old.

Teigh arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"That's true," Aislinn decides, mouth quirking. "Most of 'em are too sluggish tae even move much in the mornin' anyway, though, so the runners themselves aren't /too/ much trouble." A dismissive wave of her hand. "Still, I can see what some people find fascinating about the sky. There's so much...hmn... possibility, aye?"

Teigh walks over to the hearth and pours himself some klah.

After pouring himself some klah, Teigh goes to find himself a seat where he can drink and wake up.

The housekeeper arrives to cart Talamia off to bed.

Linora shrugs, grin intact. "I just always thought they were pretty," she admits. "Now it's more like work, but they're still pretty." Another sip of broth later, she adds, "So ya gonna work in the stables today after all?" She catches the young man entering from the corner of her eye and gives him a friendly wave.

Teigh waves back absantly while trying to wake up.

Teigh sips some of his klah. "Ahh." he says as he feels it woking it's way down his throat and itno his belly. "The first one is always the best."

"I suppose, if the Herders will let me in," Aislinn decides thoughtfully, lips curling into a smile. "I'm not one officially, meself. I just enjoy working with the animals, and they usually don't object to someone else helping with the dirty work." It's alll good. Following Linora's motions, her eyes momentarily light on Teigh, and her slender brows arch with a little wiggle of her fingertips that seems to indicate a hello.

After his first mouthful teigh seems to wake up and take real notice that he isn't the only one here. "Hi, I'm Teigh." he says before taking another mouthfull.

Linora giggles. "Nobody /ever/ minds help with dirty work," she observes sagely before finishing off her broth. Which isn't quite so hot anymore, but at least it tastes better than klah. She gives the young man a bright grin, even as her nose wrinkles in distaste. "You can have it /all/," she says emphatically, with a definitive little nod. Nasty stuff. "An' I'm Linora. That's Aislinn," she adds, by way of introduction.

"Nice to meet you." he says

Teigh looks around, "Is there anything to eat?"

Aislinn feigns momentary shock over at Linora. "Och... klah's the substance of life!" She doesn't know /what/ she'd do without it, and sips again at her mug for emphasis. And again, she tips her head towards Teigh. Howdy.

Teigh puts his mug down and get up to see whats in the other pan on the hearth.

Linora shrugs and grins. "Oh, well then you can have some too, I guess," she teases. Teigh can't drink it all. "I never learned t'like it." But it's cold. Hence the broth. She's about to answer Teigh's question about food when she notices he's already gotten up to figure it out for himself. Silly man. She follows him with her pale eyes, a bright smile lighting her face. "The broth's good," she calls out cheerfully. "Less y'want something t'chew. Prolly meatrolls then. Or you could brave the bakers an' raid the kitchen." Notice she's not getting up. Cranky bakers early in the morning? No thanks!

Teigh turns and smiles, "You want some more then I take it."

"Ugh. Not unless you have a deathwish," Aislinn supplies very importantly, letting a mock shudder curl down her spine. "They're positively hostile in the mornin', before they've got stuff in the ovens."

Teigh has disconnected.
Teigh falls asleep.

Linora giggles unspoken agreement, leaving Teigh to his own devices. If he doesn't care to take well-meant advice, he can suffer the consequences. And she'll try not to laugh... while he's listening, anyhow. But it'll be hard. She gets up then, rubbing her hands together and slipping back into her jacket. "Well, it was nice t'meet you and stuff, Aislinn. But I better start transcribing my notes 'fore I get too tired t'see straight." She flashes an apologetic smile and turns to go, stopping first to refill her mug.

So many tunnels, so little time; you opt to head across the cavern and up the long broad stairs into the rooms above the lower caverns. Working rooms, these, filled with busy little crafters.