quid pro quo

Xanadu Weyr - Craft Complex
This large area has been painted a soft cream with dark orange trim used as an accent. It's separated into a variety of smaller sitting areas, couches and chairs organized into rings and squares, tables set where they can be used easily. Recessed electric lights in the ceiling provide a warm glow, and a row of angled skylights on the eastern wall above the entrance give some natural light when bleary crafters first emerge. There's often a cart with klah parked off to one side to help with waking up or finishing that important project - or simply to be enjoyed with comfortable seating and good company.

Along the southern edge, an open archway leads to a library of books and records. There's something for every craft, it seems, from tomes of caprine diseases, to Pernese history and law, to gemstone identification, to sheet music, to sea charts and herbal manuals. There's even a few works of fiction, though none of it seems very well organized. Whatever is sought, it's probably here… somewhere. A few desks for studying are tucked in amongst the shelves, each with a lamp to illuminate the reading material. Near that archway, a long table holds a row of computers. They're connected to databases all over Pern, and are available for general use except when the computercraft requires them.

To the north, a pair of double doors open onto a grand hall, the vaulted ceiling designed with acoustics in mind. This space is used for lectures and concerts, rows of benches set up to face the front. Along one wall, instruments hang free or on shelves for anyone with the appropriate skills to use. There are often harpers here, practicing their craft.

A pair of hallways lead back from the western wall, one going to the apprentice dorms and the the private quarters for the ranking crafters posted at the weyr. The other provides access to the various workshops.

Mid-afternoon at Xanadu Weyr, Rukbat is a few marks past its Zenith though tucked behind a mountain of grey clouds. The wind has blown leaves into the crafter cavern entrance, every person coming in or out has ruffled hair and clothing to indicate the current state of the day. People mull around, and Evi has found herself a workstation in a corner with a sewing pattern laid out covering most of a large bench. Traipsing around the wooden surface is Evi is dressed in a burnt orange top, buttoned at the neck and wrists, and a skirt of deep crimson that reaches her ankles. She adjusts the pieces of thick paper onto sturdy, dark navy leather, a large bolt of the same material sits beside her, and the weaver girl seems intent on her work. Joining her are two firelizards, a gold and a green who both seem shell bent on getting in the way. Every time the brown-haired young woman moves, they move RIGHT ONTOP of what she's doing. This prompts her to pick them up once a minute and place them to the side, a fun game for firelizards. Beyond all of this she's working fast, with an upbeat wiggle and happy humming tune whispered under her breath.

In from outside halos Khetsiyah's outline in a brief moment of dark-on-brilliance before her steps carry her fully into the crafter caverns and shed light upon the breezy knit cardigan paired with a flowy skirt of mixed colors and a thin-strapped top dark enough to showcase the gleaming silver of her pendant. Long tresses are held messily out of the way, errant strands catching skeins of air to dance in the sudden friction of atoms in motion. Along side her, another girl appears — pretty with pale skin and light eyes — as her words chase them both inside, "… it'll be okay. Just go again. We've all got one make-up project…" Trailing off, the pair of apprentices — for that is what they are — come to a halt. Khetsiyah lifts a misshapen lump that catches the light merrily, enriched with sparks of color like flame though the shape is lost in a molten mess. Her friend pats her on the shoulder and takes off, leaving Khetsiyah near enough to Evi that the movement of firelizards catches the eye. "They want to help," she comments to take her thoughts away from what she still clenches in her hand.

Bustling around with a bouncy joy that is often missing in a workspace, the greenrider is the picture of industry with each action done with a flourish and occasional happy squeal. Distractable as all get out, she stops to watch the two young apprentices enter, not meaning to eavesdrop but also leaning forward to assure active listening too. Off brown eyes catch the glimmer of an object. The scant moment she takes her eyes off work, the green firelizard has managed to put a small hole in the paper pattern. Gentle, motherly hands scoop up the swamp-thing-green, snuggling the ugly flizzard into her pale neck before turning and giving a bright, toothy smile to the girl, "They both need to learn manners, I have half a mind to ask my green to send them to there father but." The loving tone and slight kissy lips made towards one of the alludes at affection and tolerance. Momentarily she leans back down to trace, but her eyes keep wandering to the lump of shiny, puckering lips and furrowing brow. There's a craning of the neck before she says. "I um, do not mean to be rude, or forward, but… May I ask what you have in your hand?" Latched onto the shiny object now, she's sidestepping in the way most might approach an animal. Don't be suspicious.

"They're very cute," Khetsiyah murmurs with a slight dip of her head and a small, tiny little smile. She watches Evi through the dark fringe of lashes as the woman moves about with obvious industry and lets go of her hair since the wind no longer menaces the dark strands. As a second boon, this allows her to partially mask her expression behind the waterfall of hair at very moment Evi asks her question. "You are not rude," the quiet tone does not lack strength, but carries within a resignation. "It was meant to be a vase, but I lost control of the glass and it melted into this. A class project that I failed to replicate and now it is nothing more than a fancy paperweight." Keeping track of Evi's movement, Khetsi adjusts her feet accordingly, but does hold up the object so the glittering fire within catches the light. "Albeit a rather ugly one since it resembles a melted bulbous animal."

Selvage leans forward from her forced perch, cocking her head at the girl with fast whirling blue eyes, emitting a series of curious chirps that are gratingly high pitched. "I agree, it's quite neat," Evi responds to the green before wrapping two fingers around her muzzle, the animal reacting by ruffling up haughtily but not resisting the silencing effect of a hand-turned muzzle. "I would be all too happy to hand you one, well, not one of these they wouldn't go but! One of your own, we have eggs all over my weyr." Pleasant, quick words escape with an awkward blush as she ducks for no discernable reason to press her mouth into her shoulder. Blinking long, Evi takes a giant step to arrive directly in front of the would-be glasscrafter. "It's uh, what's the word?" Snapping her fingers several times in frustrated contemplating, "ABSTRACT, it's not a vase but, uh, I find accidents can be good. I mean, maybe not if it puts you behind in your craft. Though sometimes behind is ok, if you are going somewhere and it could be unsafe, or you wish to enjoy the places you've been a bit longer. A lot of reasons, really. I uh.." Speaking far too quickly, she babbles on for a few extra moments before sealing her lips and patting a seat. "Uh, I'm um, Evi. This is Selvage," pointing to the green, "And that's Tulle. And you are?"

"… an egg?" Khetsiyah blinks rapidly herself, before lowering the dark fringe of lashes to mask her thoughts as Evi's words spill around her. When she lifts her gaze back towards the other woman, her expression has softened somewhat. A subtle change, really: a shift from the frustration of imperfection to a burgeoning bloom of warmth that so-briefly touches in the honeyed cocoa of her skin. "I would like that." She hesitates, working the words through her mouth as if tasting them before they leave in the rich cadence of her voice, "Thank you, very much." And then, she mirrors Evi's movements, half-turning her head away again though she hefts the glassy structure. "Ahhhh, you have a point," though embarrassment of her failure still colors her voice, winding through it a rich ribbon of longing for perfection. "Oh! I am Khetsiyah," swinging back 'round to Evi, a blush now clearly stains the apprentice's cheek. "Apprentice. Glasscrafter," her words slow into a half-hearted chuckle, "but you already knew that," a rattled breath of self-depreciative laughter, "because I'm wearing my knot." Ha, ha, Khetsi. Ha, ha. "Well met, Evi, Selvage." True pleasure rings in the moment.

"A firelizard Egg." Evi nods quickly, overenthusiastic to the hilt with excess energy shooting out of every motion. Tapping her fingers on her thigh, she takes a smooth step back and scootches her toosh up onto a waiting seat and swings her legs with a gentle flap of her skirt. "I will draw you a map, and when you're free one evening, you can come by." Settling the matter with a content sigh, allowing Khetsiyah time and space, a hand absently strokes the leather on the bench. "I don't meet many glasscrafters, and we're always renovating the weyr. Where uh, are you from?" Glancing at her project again, she adjusts the pattern absently and allows her eyes to glaze over in the fashion most riders do when speaking to there mount. "Nei would like to know if you make um, anything to sell? And. Well, the rest, I won't say." Blushing fiercely and biting down on her lower lip, teeth having left permanent indents as a mark of the constant chewing. "It's a pleasure to meet you if I forgot.. that part. Xanadu's not, terribly formal. Are you new?" Eyes narrowing and crooked nose lifting slightly, as if she might smell the newness.

"… the rest?" Khetsiyah blinks when Evi breaks off into a blush and she looks down, at her mangled project. "Thank you," for the map, though that might be lost given how she jumped from one thing Evi says to another. "And um, not to sell? I'm still learning." But maybe — a glimmer of an idea sparkles in the deep forested green of Khetsi's eyes. "I've lived here all my life, but I suppose I am new in the sense that I've not been an apprentice overly long. A turn? Or so." Time becomes elastic when one's days line up into a general sameness. "My parents have lived here since childhood." Her newness sparkles in the way a girl hovering on the cusp between girlhood and womanhood; ready to leave childhood behind but not yet ready for adulthood. "Xanadu is not formal, but my parents believe in maintaining a measure of one's decorum," she admits, a rueful hitch of expressive lips to one side. "One day, I'll rebel." Maybe. Who knows?

"Sometimes my lifemate's word can be direct. I do my best to get her point across without being, uh as direct." Evi's eye sparkle with the thought, her own explanation, and the opinion of her green eliciting a cheesy grin then oozes untold oceans of affection. It's nearly obscene to view, her overflowing, immense adoration for her pint-sized (for a dragon) striped partner. "I only moved here when searched, maybe I'm new. When does new wear off?" Contemplating and slipping off the stool, unable to sit still or stay seated, she adjusts the pattern to align the marks already made with the edges of the paper. "If you had my parents you'd find being here at all is an act of rebellion." Rueful and forward, though, her own words prompt a hand to cover her mouth in chagrin. BAD EVI. BAD. "Once you can sell things, you have a customer." Back to the lump, she hrmmss, "Neith would like to know if you'll give us the paperweight in exchange for our silence, says we'll never speak of it to anyone if you'll part with it." Wide-eyed, Evi waits for a response with nervous stillness. The tone used when making her green's request is formal, forward, and touches on rudeness that is not present in the rider at all otherwise. Nearing pushy, but missing it by a quarter mark.

"I think the new wears off when you think of home and here comes to mind," Khetsiyah ventures with a shy grin, though she does turn away from the obvious obscenity of the woman's affection. Not that it is truly obscene per se, but that what seems like a private moment is given it's due… well… privacy. "Who were your parents?" curiosity is barely hidden when she turns back to Evi, with brows raising. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she bites her lip but thrusts out the paperweight. "It's yours," the words fall out of her lips, blurted in sudden abandonment. "I mean, it's the least I could do for the egg that you're giving me." The lumpy paperweight sparkles with hidden fire, the depths of the colored glass hinting at a skill-to-come though expressed through an apprentice's fumbling achievement. Natural skill lies abundant in the girl's hands, at least.

"We will go with it." Evi pauses, eyes wide and startled with the question of her parentage. Unfocusing and refocusing rapidly, suddenly mildly uncomfortable with the matter. A pause so pregnant it's overdue ensues, unable to formulate the answer with the lump growing in her throat. Finally, after a great moment of thought, she manages to squeak out, "My ma's name was Evance, my da Zalyu. Da grew up here, lives in Ista now. Ma grew up around half-moon, which is where I am from." The weight of sudden responsibility marks the words, it was a simple enough question, and she recovers slightly to take the sparkling paperweight. Grabby hands grasp the smooth, oddly shaped lump, tracing every notch and holding it up to the light. She might as well have been handed the family gems for all the joy she's finding in this treasure. "It's a lot of animals all crunched together." All teeth for the thought, a private view she keeps to herself, but she's clearly happy with her prize. "Nei says it's a deal. She also says… Well, she says a lot of things, we can't possibly share all of them." And shouldn't. "Tell me about your parents, are they riders?"

"I've not traveled outside of Xanadu my entire life," Khetsiyah admits, eyes widening at the far-flung reaches of Evi's parentage. As the weight of her object leaves her hands, she's left grasping at nothing, at the sudden loss, for a bare second. Then she folds her arms across her chest, watching Evi with a measured curiosity. Depth exists within Khetsiyah, though it's youthful and but a seed — still, the woman-to-be lurks within, enigmatic and mysterious. "Interesting assessment," the quiet murmur is contemplative as if seeing her work for the first time. "Those are a lot of thoughts, but… I'm happy to know the ones she does share." A deep breath expands her chest when the question focuses back onto her and her own parentage. "No. They are crafters, both. Mother with the harpers and father with the smiths. Their parents were also crafters, both my grandparents were seafolk. I am expected to," she rocks back on her heels, "achieve greatness, if I were to listen to my parents. Within my craft." Beat, then with a shrug, she adds, "I suspect they expect me to become a master." A long, long road, that.

"Parenting is hard, raising someone or something has um, a mark of expectation. I think when you create a life you imagine the very best way it could turn out. You want that, for your children but at times that expectation is, flawed." Evi speaks with question in each word, questioning her own ideas and allowing them to have a voice though she's shying as if she might melt right down into goo. Focusing on the new glass whatchamacallit helps, hands greedily taking in the surface and twisting it as her own personal worry stone. "My wing has me all over Pern, it's nice to be of service." The holder in her is strong in that statement, her natural mildness surfacing even if she might have blackmailed a worthless item off a young girl a scant few moments earlier. SHAME EVANGELINE. SHAME. Nope, no shame, "Greatness is an opinion. Um, maybe.. try and become someone of worth, define that as you please and be… kind. Kindness usually helps." A pause, Evi enjoying her sudden influx of random wisdom before adding. "Not too kind, don't get pushed around. Kind can be strong, though. Also, be yourself… but the best version of yourself. Be your improving self." Alright, so she hasn't figured this out, and then looking back at the leather, there's a deep tired sigh. "This is for my weyrmates turnday. It's his own coat when we travel together." Blushing and hiding, she's back to grinning in the way that she did with her dragon, kicking her feet spontaneously. "If I had fewer helpers, it might look better." Admitting this wryly.

Khetsiyah is a touch overwhelmed by the flow of wisdom from Evi, but still she listens with a depth beyond her turns. "Ahh, yes, my parents… do expect much." She picks her words out carfully as she navigates through thoughts she's only just now figuring out. "I will try that… to be kind, but," firmness attaches itself to the richness of her voice, "not a pushover." Is that the right way? The right response? She hovers in indecision, but ultimately sticks with it, until a new topic emerges. "It is very nice leather," she grasps onto a topic less fraught with ideas and more with, well more blushing. "I bet he will love it," the shining deep green eyes of a young girl — who can resist a little romance story at this tender age? — meet Evi's, warm with sincerity. "I — " her words are cut off when the very same girl from before emerges and motions frantically at her. With an 'O' of surprise, she adds her own rush of words, "I am late, Faranth-be, but I didn't realize I'd lingered. It was — it was very nice to meet you, Evi." Even if she swindled — bartered? — asked? — something her lumpy apprentice project from her. "I have class, but hopefully I'll see you again?" Especially since there's the promise of an egg involved!

"That is sorta it." Evi not sure she's given her ever-changing life theorem away correctly, a complicated creature of words and emotions that doesn't translate all that well. The leather has her attention again, adding several dots to the line of the pattern and head rolling back tiredly as the enormity of her task hits her. "He… will even if I don't do it all correctly, which makes it harder. He's to easy to please, that man." Almost angry, but the bite drops away to make room for a rise in red cheeks the turn her eyes to narrow slits. "Oh, that's my fault. Shards." Moving away from the conversation and shooing with both pale hands. "Tulle will find you with your map." Realizing she doesn't have a map currently but might need to make one, wincing at yet another thing to do. "Be… safe? Or, good? Or. Be gone? I- be uh, well." Back to being bad at being a people, she moves Tulle off her work for the umptillionth billionth trillionth time and is quietly grateful that firelizards do not shed.

Khetsiyah starts to say something, but the motioning in the corner becomes even more frantic, edged in 'you'll be sorry if you don't move your butt'. "Thank you, and I am sure… I am sure it will turn out well!" And with an apologetic smile, the apprentice glasscrafter backs away, slowly. "And thank you, for the map. The egg, and I will be well," and thus ends the slow exhalation of words as she turns and hurries off to her cohort. It is time for class, for learning, for life; yet this interlude won't be so quickly or easily forgotten.

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