Risque Rhymin'

IC Date: Day 18, Month 2, Turn 19, 10th Interval
Players: Ananta & Rimara
Location: High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Ananta comes into the Snowasis to find Rimara. The girls sit down and chat, and make up risque limericks, before they talk maps. OOC Date: 07 Mar 09. WARNING: Some language may be offensive.


Snowasis,
Afternoon

The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.
Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.


While hardly the busiest time of the day, afternoon nonetheless sees a few patrons in Snowasis. Rimara doesn't come on duty until the evening, but she's been asked to do a few things by the bartender, so she's ensconced at a table in the back. There's a mug of tea beside her, and a clean piece of hide being worked on. Ink, pen and straight-edge are lying in waiting. At the moment, she's scribbling on another piece of hide, this one often scraped. Humming softly to herself, her foot's tapping to the jaunty tune as she writes something down. The other barmaid is waiting on the few patrons, while the bartender's more or less falling asleep at the bar. Yeah, it's a jumping joint for certain.

It should be the prime time for Ananta to be getting some chores done, instead she's sloughing. Not really a huge shock. She's spent some of the morning in the records room, working on a hide. That's the yellowed bit in her hand. It looks to be some kind of map. As she enters Snowasis, her eyes do a quick look around and land on Rimara's familiar face. She lifts a hand in a small wave, hoping for eye contact, and makes a bee-line for the back table.

She's in luck. Rimara takes that moment to look up, and there's a smile for her younger friend. When Ananta arrives at her table, Rimara smiles. "Haven't seen you for a few days. Been busy?" she asks, moving her papers and hides to make room for the girl. "Care for something warm? It's bitter out there today." She gives a shiver. "I can't seem to get warm, at least. Wish this place had a hearth." If Ananta cares to look, the top hide appears to be, of all things, limericks!

Seeing the smile, Ananta smiles back, "Hey Rimara!" She reaches for a chair to help herself to a seat...pauses, trying to remember manners with a quick, "is it ok?" A gesture towards the chair "to join you, or are you busy?" Ananta's brought an extra sweater in her bag, which she pulls out. "Well, you are in luck! Do you want to use this? It might not smell great, it's been sitting in the kitchen for a few days. Busy, yes. I've been holed up in the records room nonstop." Then for the sweater, "At least it's warm, and such a nice shade of purple." And then a glance at the limericks. "Ooh, what are those?"

Rimara chuckles. "Thanks," she says, for the sweater, accepting it and pulling it on over her clothes. "No, I'm not busy, just came in a bit early so I could do some things for him," she says, nodding toward the bartender. "I'm all but done. He just has to okay a few things, and then it's all copying." She listens, nodding in all the appropriate places. "Well, it's nice to see you. I almost went up to your room the other day, but I wasn't sure if I could find it again. Anyway, good to see you." Then, "These?---oh, limericks, song lyrics, whatever you want to call them."

Ananta gives a little grin of satisfaction. "I'm glad I just saw it then, if it can keep you from being cold." She also listens and bobs her head in the right places. A little lift of her eyebrows for the limericks...song lyrics "So, what are these ones about?" Nosy? Never.

"Various things," Rimara replies, grinning. "Actually, they're really quite naughty. It's an old sea chanty my father's sailors used to sing. I just adapted them for a weyr." A single-shoulder shrug. "Wasting time, really, but they're kind of funny." She picks up the sheet, an almost evil glint in her eyes. In a soft voice, she says, "We're riders from High Reaches, we drink our booze like leeches. We're quick to fight, an' get laid ev'ry night, an' frequently lose our breeches." She gives a quick look around, making certain no one overheard her little funny.

Hand to mouth! A laugh makes it's way through Ananta's fingers, "You're bad." is whispered. Wouldn't want to hurt her new friends new reputation. "I hope you've got more." Ananta has already sat down and is now leaning in, "Did you know I've heard some good ones, but they always go in as quickly as they go out." A tap on her lips, "Ok, tell me another..."

Another quick glance around. Safey first. "All right, though I warned you," Rimara says. "Our Weyrleader's a right bad fellow, who's anything, but seldom mellow. He's quite a banger, and quick to anger, and gives orders with a bellow." Yeah, better not let N'thei hear that one.

Another round of hushed laughter, "You better watch it lady." Laughter quieting and a smile, "OK, now I'm going to try one: There once was a place called the Snowasis, it's booze was drank by the cases, the Weyrleader and a staff, were playing in the back"...pause..."when his cruel Mistress slipped in and caught witness."

Rimara smothers a laugh, snorting with unladylike gusto. "Oh, that's cute, too. Let me jot it down, all right? I'll add it to the rest of the lyrics." She takes her pen, dipping it quickly into the ink, scribbling on the scraped hide. "The only others I have are a bit ... well, really naughty." She picks up the hide, turning it sideways where she's written another limerick. "A greenrider by name of T'donzer; that bold and clever bonzer. Shoved broken glass, inside his ass, and castrated a 'bronzer!" Before she's through, she's added another. "Junior Weyrwoman named Mabel, though young was still quite able, to fornicate, but at second rate, upon the council room table." She sets the hide down. "I don't much like the last one, but limericks aren't supposed to be grand, epic poetry."

Dirty indeed, Ananta is blushing now. "You've got to teach me some more of those!" The map sitting on her lap, "Much better than rewriting history." And back to her limerick "I wanted to say something about her breaking a bottle over his head---but it didn't seem to rhyme" She starts to hum something, "Do any of these come with a tune?" Not that we want to hear Ananta singing.

"Oh, sure," Rimara says, and begins to hum that same lilting tune as before. It's a catchy little melody. "Most of the ones I know are kind of risque at the least, but, remember, they're usually not sung around women. Sailors sing them while working on the boats, to liven things up. There are other songs which are kind of sad, but they're rarely sung to entertain. I learned them all from sailor on my father's ship, or those who came into mother's tavern. I suppose I've forgotten a good many of them." She seems to wax nostalgic for a few minutes. "Anyway..." A pause. "Were you carrying something when you came in?---other than the sweater, of course."

"Oh yes..." Ananta holds up the map. "This is what I'm suppose to be working on today." Suppose to be. "But, I'm here learning dirty sailor songs." The map goes up on the table, turned in Rimara's direction. "See it's of the weyr...looks to be about 100 turns old. Needs to be redrawn since the ink is fading. The hide's falling apart." A shoulder "Ah, who cares about that...do you have any good sailor stories from your Dad?"

Rimara's attention goes immediately to the weyr-map, and it's not easy to draw her away. "Oh, what a shame," she says, an expression of concern on her face. She peers at the hide, being careful not to touch it too much or too often. "This is a beautiful piece of work. Very sad to see it so mistreated." The girl loves her hide-work, no doubt about it. She looks up at Ananta. "I can re-draw it for you, but it won't have the same colors. We can't quite match those inks, now." She's so into the map it takes her a moment to realize Ananta's asked her another question. "Hm?---oh, yes, I guess so. They're not all funny, though. Most of them are pretty grim, all things considered. The sea's a very treacherous mistress."

"It is beautiful, I don't like seeing old records mistreated either. It's a shame." Ananta slides it in Rimara's direction, "Can you see it well enough? If you could redo it for the weyr that would be great. I'm not such a steady hand." Her finger points to the ocean on the map--"yes, her mercy is missing". A treacherous mistress indeed. "I lost a couple good friends to that wench." Her eyes seem to look through the table for a moment.

Rimara is equally quiet for a moment. "So have I," she murmurs, then clears her throat. "I think anyone who has family who goes to sea has lost someone." Change the subject. "I'll get on this ... oh, probably tomorrow. It's my next day off, and I'll be able to get into the records room where there'll be plenty of quiet space. And, yes, I can see it well enough. I've a magnifying glass in my satchel for the parts that are too faded." She purses her lips. "I can also cross-reference any of the other weyrmaps in the archives, as well."

A shift and nod. "So, can I help you with it? Or...watch you work on it? Maybe you could show me some of your techniques." A look down, "So, I've got to get going in a bit. Maybe grab something to eat...heardbeast and tubers sounds good tonight." An invitation to grab dinner. "We could continue with our limericks, quietly of course." A broad smile and question mark.

"Sure, you're welcome to do either---watch or help," Rimara assures her. "Why don't you hang onto this one, and leave it where I can find it tomorrow morning?" she suggests. At that moment, the bartender comes up, clearing his throat. "I'd better not. I think I'm going to be working. You have a good dinner," she says, then glances over to the bartender. "Ready, Saam?" Apparently so, since the man gives her a nod. "See you tomorrow, then," she says, reaching out for the list Saam holds out to her.