Honey-blond tresses, sunstreaked with platinum highlights, tumble heavily to a spot just above her hips, although her hair is generally worn in a single thick plait down her back. Short in stature, girlish in appearance; nonetheless she has a look about her pale blue eyes that's old beyond her Turns. Set in a warmly tanned oval face, they remain her most striking feature, more for the odd gleam that lights them than for color or shape. Full lips are just a fraction too wide, quick to warm her distant expression with a genuine smile or merry laugh.
A lightweight cotton shirt, crisp and cool, is tucked neatly into a pair of tan trousers - sleeveless, with a softly scooping neckline, dyed a soft, robin's-egg blue. The trousers, amazingly, actually seem to have been made to fit her, tailored flatteringly to waist and hips, following the lines of her legs and hemmed neatly just below her knees. On her feet she wears a pair of knotted wherhide sandals.
Red and silver, royal and black -- four cords form a single loop at her shoulder, with a small tail to denote her status as StarCraft Senior Apprentice posted to High Reaches Weyr.
She is awake and looks alert.
Linora seems to be looking at you.
Linora is 19 Turns and 11 months old.
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-seven firelizards.
You see OOC NOTICE (look sign), White Clay Egg Pot, Thief, and Slink here.
Sinead, Fihall, and Lhana are here.
This particular boy is owner to a very tall, very lithe frame. A complexion comprised of weather hardened white and a smattering of cinnamon freckles, his most ouststanding feature is the tussock of red hair inherited from father to son. Gray blue eyes either reflect quiet consternation of mocking jovilty, a slightly upturned nose and thin lips compelete the boyish features. His shoulders may be broad, but for the awkwardness of his age he is still rather wirey and growing into them. Deft, agile, and reputable at slinking off to go hide somewhere precarious so as to eavesdrop innocently, Fahill most certainly has the look of a typical boy.
A tight fitting tunic of claret red clings gently to his young frame. Though perhaps made with another in mind as the sleeves seem to be rolled up once or twice at the wrists. A pair of dull, cured leather pants fit snug enough about long legs, though they also seem a bit misplaced as their hems rumple about his barely visable boots. Fihall wears a knot distinguishing him as a High Reaches Weyr resident.
He is awake and looks alert.
Fihall is 15 Turns and 14 days old.
Long (now approaching waist length), fairly straight black hair has been brushed to a silky luster. The adolescent's bangs are just about chin-length, and nearly always hanging down to frame a pretty face. Lhana's almond-shaped, slightly tilted eyes are a liquidy light brown, with thick black lashes and sculpted brows to match her hair. Her skin is fair, with a subtle olive tone mixed in. A small, nearly bridgeless snubbed nose is placed in the middle of her heart-shaped face, which also contains high cheekbones, mundane lips, and a smooth complexion. Thin, with slender curves at breast and hip, she is long in the torso area. She's about 5 feet, 6 inches tall - give or take an inch or two.
Clothes made to encourage physical activity as well as - ah - ventilation grace Lhana's frame today, fitted tight but still allowing movement. A dark green top is cut short to show off nearly all of her long midriff, with no sleeves to cover her shoulders. It sports a V-shaped neck, low enough to reveal thin collarbones, but not much else. Sitting low on her waist are black pants that are cropped just past her knees. White shoes with pink laces are on her feet, the socks barely poking over her ankles. Her hair is worn up in a high, messy sort of runnertail. Perched on Lhana's shoulder is Tekkno. Perched on Lhana's shoulder is Raver. Perched on Lhana's shoulder is Mr. Bojangles.
A shoulderknot of black and blue strands denotes a High Reaches Weyr resident. Coincidentally, Lhana's wearing just such a knot.
She is awake and looks alert.
Lhana is 19 Turns, 9 months, and 22 days old.
Sinead chuckles as she watches Lhana's fair. "Ooh, they do tend to occupy eachother, especially if you're really busy, like me, I can't exactly be around all the time with my chores and what not, so it's good that they have eachother as company."
Lhana nods emphatically, eyes widened. "Oh, if they didn't all get along, I don't know /what/ I'd do." Go crazy, most likely. Assuming she's not already there, of course. The little brown is finally satisfied, now that his belly has just about doubled in size, and he curls up to fall asleep. Lhana, meanwhile, uses the excuse to undo her hair and comb it out dutifully. "I never do get over how much they /eat/. I swear, they eat more than I ever could."
Fihall is interested in all this sappy flitter talk, really, but must attend to... more sleep. He stands, clutching his klah mug possesively, and with a finger waggle to those present, dissapears towards his appealing cot.
Linora wanders downstairs looking either very sleepy or very distracted... it might be hard to tell which. One hand drags along empty chair backs as she passes them, dropping limply to her side as she reaches the hearth, rather uncharacteristically oblivious to the room's other occupants. Guess she's just gotten accustomed to being in the caverns at times of the day when there... aren't any. She dips out a bowl of porridge from the pot warming on the night hearth, and helps herself to some nice looking fruit before wandering over to an empty table.
Sinead nods. "Oh, I'd just be driven insane if they didn't get along," she notes. "They're a fidgity bunch as it is, but if they didn't get along I'd be up the wall with insanity," chuckle. "Hullo," is offered to Linora.
Fihall steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.
Lhana combs through her hair in the carefull, attentive manner only a loving mother could give. Having combed through it a few times, she very gently puts it back up in a runnertail, choosing to sate her hunger instead of her vanity for once in her life. Standing, she pours herself some klah, grabs a nice juicy fruit of some kind, and heads back to her pet-packed seat, nodding to Linora as she passes. She would've waved, of course, but her hands are full. "Sometimes I wonder if all they do is eat and annoy," she mentions, obviously agitated at her bunch at the moment.
Linora glances up at the voice, blinking at Sinead for a minute or two as she tries to remember if they've met, then smiles. "Hey," she greets back, pleasantly enough. Noticing the other girl, she turns a smile to her as well, a little more amused at the fair of annoying firelizards. "Ifya train 'em, they're okay," she suggests helpfully, turning in her chair to face the others. "It's hard ifya got a bunch of 'em, though."
Sinead chuckles. "They do other things, just not often, especially if you don't need them to," a snicker is offered as she is immediatly made a perch to a little brown and her others take up places around her.
Lhana sighs, pushing the plate of meat aside - with squabbling flits in place, of course - and sets down her mug. Tekkno and Raver, as they become full, curl up and are soon dozing, as is the canine curled up at her feet. "Yes, they're trained. They do all sorts of nice things for me, if I insist." Then she stops dead, watching the miracle of sleep. "This is the best part," she says mutedly. "When they're all /asleep/." A contented sigh, and she leans back in her chair. Ahhh, peace.
Linora muffles a giggle with her hand, then tried to concentrate on her breakfast. "I ain't seen most a'mine in ages," she says conversationally. "I guess they hunt and stuff mostly now." With a bright smile, she offers an introduction to the others. "I'm Linora. StarCraft apprentice." Since she doesn't know or remember them, she's betting that goes both ways.
Sinead nods. "When they're asleep I'm normally burned and have fallen into my cot," she states with a chuckle. "Heya Linora, I'm sinead, former guard turned candie."
If Lhana's ever met Linora before, she sure as anything won't be able to remember it now. "Wonderful to meet you Linora, my name is Lhana. The weyr's best haircutter." And she sits up straighter, sniffing in a self-congratulatory way. Conceited, Lhana? No way. *snort*
Linora has been around the Weyr long enough by now to know what Sinead means by "candie", but it still sounds a little funny to her ears. Hence the rather silly grin. "Think it's gonna be a lot longer 'fore those eggs hatch and stuff?" Yes, she's been to the Sands. It's warm there. Lhana gets a rather respectful second look from the starcrafter. Of course, she hasn't heard of any /other/ haircutters, but that's hardly the point. "Nice t'meet you," she replies brightly, her glance including both women, and then she continues to Lhana, "Last time anyone did anything t'my hair was a couple Turns back, I had my friend cut if off." One hand indicates a level just above her shoulders, presumably the former length. Obviously it's been quite a little while, given how long her hair is now.
Sinead chuckles. "A month or so, at least I think that's about how long," she offers with a grin before nodding. "Yup, Lhana is the best haircutter, she did mine, and died it purple too," snicker, grin.
Lhana smiles charmingly at Linora, and gives her hair a critical look. But any remarks about are witheld, as people don't tend to take kindly to them, and she smiles. "It looks great." For untreated hair, that is. Eh heh. Ead is given a happy beam, and Lhana preens her just-got-back-from-a-jog self. "It was the best purple I think I've ever done," she says to Linora, mock-confidentially.
Linora doesn't miss the critical examination of her hair, but doesn't seem terribly disturbed by it. "Thanks," she says simply, pausing for a moment or two to concentrate on her breakfast again. But she does give Lhana another look at the purple comment. "I... don't think I'd like my hair purple," she remarks quietly, and as non-judgmentally as she can manage.
Sinead chuckles slightly. "I wanted something differant, became the only purple haired guard in the Weyr, and loved every moment of it."
Lhana giggles at the 'purple haired guard' comment. "Oooh, you must've gotten so many comments on that," she mentions jubilantly. "I'd never do anything like that to my hair - it's too dark." And she'd be too frantic if it were to go wrong. Tiny, involuntary shudder. "Yeah, purple hair isn't for everyone. It's just /fun/ when it is, though." Beam.
Linora nods slowly, scraping the last of the porridge out of her bowl. "I guess," she says, and although she's still smiling her tone sounds just a little doubtful. "Anyhow... It was nice meeting you, but I gotta sleep and stuff." She manages to stifle a small yawn. "I been up all night watchin' the sky," she adds, by way of explanation.
Sinead chuckles. "Well, have a good rest Linora, nice to meet you," she offers with a grin. "Purple hair is fun if it turns out, though, as you said, it's not for everyone.
Lhana nods to Linora, adding in a wave for good measure as the other woman walks out. "Lovely meeting you," she says, "Have a wonderful sleep!" Then she turns and grins at Ead. "Oh, did I tell you. I've given up on the Mystery Man." And it's probably about time, too - she most likely wouldn't have recognized him even if she'd seen him again.
Mellow> Sinead shakes her head. "No, you didn't tell me, that's unfortunate. I'll bet you'll run into him during the hatching, then you'll be smitten again."
Mellow> Lhana sighs dreamily, thinking about it. "Yeah..." But then she shakes her head, coming back to the present. "Oh, but I've found someone be-" she's about to say 'better' but quickly changes the word to "else. Someone a bit, ah, closer to home." Meaning she actually knows this one's name.