Fort Weyr - Center Bowl

The wide center of the bowl is often bustling with activity as riders come and go. Off westward can be seen the entrances for the candidate barracks and the guest weyr, while to the east is a large opening that leads into the dragon infirmary. The bowl stretches off both to the north and to the south, where the sheer stone walls rise steeply to the sky.

In the late evening hours, there's a lull that's fallen over the Weyr as folks are settling for the night. The bowls are quiet, with few folks around - which makes a landing gold dragon stick out like even more of a sore thumb. Rhenesath's homely figure and her darkened hide are shadowed somewhat by the clouds that make the evening darker than it would normally be, and Thys is just a smudge as she slips down from her lifemate's back. Then up the dragon goes, spiralling away towards her ledge, while the young goldrider strides out across the bowl towards the living caverns, fingers gingerly prodding at the bruise that marks her right eye.

This time of night is perfect for sneaking about should a person chose to do so. Gabriela would have a hard time of it in a bright red skirt, so she doesn’t attempt. Instead leaning against the rock wall and watching others do the sneaking about. The entrance of a ginormous Gold however is enough to draw anyone’s attention. The sneakers disappear like mist and Gabby is left watching Thys stride in her general direction poking at a black eye. “Have you tried cold lake mud?” Have an odd question for a greeting Gold rider. “It helps take some of the sting and swelling out of the bruise.”

Thys winces when she's spoken to - she'd clearly not been paying enough attention to notice Gabriela. "Oh, Faranth, is it that obvious? I had hoped it wouldn't come up… shardit." She huffs, then tries to straighten up a little… while dragging some of her short hair foreward in an attempt to hide the bruising. "Does cold lake mud really work? I'd thought about slipping into the infirmary and seeing if they had anything that would stop it from darkening up, but it would seem I'm too late for that if you can see it!"

“You jabbing your finger at it does draw attention,” Gabriella admits with a shrug of her shoulder. “The less you fidget with it the less obvious it will likely be.” A soft chuckle emanates into the night. “I’ve had more than my fair share I reckon. So I know how you feel. Lovers quarrel?” Because lovers are supposed to pound the heck out of one another right? Gabby has an odd view of things on occasion. “The infirmary is a good spot for some numbweed, just don’t get it in your eye whatever you do.”

"Lover's quarrel? Absolutely not - no. No, Ralik would never raise a hand to me." Thys seems slightly offended by the suggestion, and she shakes her head vehemently - until she realises that it hurts to do so, and she gives a little grunt of pain as she holds her hand up to cup her cheek, fingers resting on her temple. "May I ask, why have you had so many black eyes?"

Gabriella grunts noncommittally, “Lucky you.” In the dimness she crosses her arms over her waist and shifts her feet a tad. “I used to travel with a trader clan and on occasion things would get rough. Thieves and what.” Or perhaps a foster cousin who hated her. “It will take a while before sudden movements stop hurtin’ and when it does you’ll find yourself accidentally scratching an itch. Yeah that hurts.” Tilting her head curiously, “So do you mind if I ask what happened to you?”

"Huh." Despite the way she's trying to school her expression to be neutral, Thys can't quite rid herself of the slightly disdainful look she wears. "Well, traders' lives can be rough, from what I've heard. Of course, growing up in a mining community, I know how rough things can be…" She clasps her hands in front of her, rocking slightly on her heels. "Oh, this was a little, ah… wrong place, wrong time." Shrugging, the goldrider then skips on quickly through the conversation. "I'm not sure we've met before - are you new here?"

Gabriela is barely larger than most early teens, though womanhood markers place her fully in the adult category. Looking up at the Goldrider she smiles slightly in the face of that disdain. “Well then you already know how to take care of bruises and the like. My apology.” In her way she is making an honest attempt at being friendly. “Accidents do happen. Sorry it happened to you.” Seriously black eyes hurt. “I’m somewhat new yes. Name’s Gabriela. Been here a short while, long enough to make a few acquaintances.” Though she isn’t winning any popularity contests for certain. And one acquaintance has a black eye of his own coming to him.

New! Thys knew it. "Well then, welcome to Fort, Gabriela! I'm Thys, and I'm sorry we've not crossed paths sooner. Since Ralik moved back to the glasscraft my time's been more split than usual; if I'm not working, I'm with him… working, as it would happen," she snorts, amused, "… though at least it's not on Weyr things, so it's a bit of a break. I suppose it says something that I consider him setting up a workshop for me to be romantic."

“Thanks,” Gabriela’s voice is threaded with genuine delight. “I tend to disappear in a crowd anyway.” Short. “And I totally get that you are busy. I have been doing my best to chip in and stay busy myself.” Hence aside from meals and right before turning in she is usually on the go. “You work with glass? That is so awesome.” Her teeth flash brilliant in a smile. “It must be really nice to have someone who cares enough to do things for you.”

"The Weyr does appreciate hard workers." That, in other words, is a big thank you for your efforts. Thys smoothes her hands over her leathers, and then is about to touch her bruise again - but thinks twice about it and crosses her arms over her chest instead. "Oh, I'm actually a Smith. Gemsmith - jeweller, to be more precise. Ralik's a glasscrafter, though. He's working towards his master's knot and it's better for him to be at the hall to do that, so, to entice me there more often…" She shrugs, ending the sentence with words unspoken.

Gabriela is nothing if not willing to work hard for a roof and three squares. Seeing Thys catch herself from touching the eye Gabby chuckles. “It’s hard to do isn’t it? I once threatened to tie my hands to my belt loops so they wouldn’t reach that far. Not really feasible, but it was an amusing thought.” Right this second she is fidgeting with the braided bracelets on her wrists. “Never met a jeweler directly before. Bet your stuff is real pretty.” A compliment for items unseen. “I have seen a glass blower once and that was just cool.” Blowing hot glass bubbles, c’mon that’s neat. “Ahh the shop for you. At least he has a good angle. Wanting to spend time with you an’ all.”

Thys grins, bashful about her pride in her work. "Well, I really like what I do, and it's good for making marks off since it sells quite well, too. I used to hold exhibition evenings, but I've got the most terrible luck when it comes to anything I've planned, so I sort of… stopped. Planning things, anyway. Private viewings are always possible, of course." She smiles, slipping her hands down into her pockets. "Glasscrafting is phenomenal to watch. I find it almost hypnotising, with that bright bright glowing glass and the way they blow it… I think that may be how Ralik won be over, come to think of it!"

Gabriella sees nothing wrong with pride in talent. “I’m hoping to figure out what I like to do. Spent most of my life pawning wares everyone else made. Well except for quilting, I do enjoy that.” A shrug of her shoulder is given. “Too busy with the Weyr to show off? That’s too bad really. I haven’t heard of a woman yet who doesn’t appreciate fine and beautiful things.” Idly she fingers a carved runner on a bracelet. “It’s easy to draw a girl in with a talent like that. I still have a little paperweight that I kept all these Turns from the glassblower I saw work. He was amazing. My favorite are the vases though. Watching them turn the glass while an apprentice takes that hot poker to it to widen it out.”

"May I ask what talents you have - other than quilting? Which, honestly, is a skill we can always use more of here - everyone loves a quilt, and, personally, I find them to be a good use of old fabric scraps. But if there's something you'd like to try your hand at, I'm sure I could arrange for it with Zhirayr?" Thys, employer of talents! She smiles - then winces as it tweaks bruised muscles. "I've never been great with a needle and thread, but if you're open to taking orders for a quilt, I could do with a new one."

“Well I’m no good at delivering messages apparently,” Gabriella says with a wry twist of her lips. “I’m a fair hand at data, lists, and inventory.” A trader’s best friend. “Always wanted to learn how to use a computer. But living out the back of a wagon isn’t exactly conducive to it.” She chuckles softly, “You need a quilt? Well quilts are something I’m real darn good at. I have several in my room. But if you have swatches of fabric that mean something to /you/ I can make you one.”

Thys takes barely a second of thinking before she has a suggestion for Gabriela. "I think you'd do wonderfully in the stores, on Zhirayr's crew. He's a little… I want to say dark, but that's really just because of what he wears. He's a good man, anyway, even if he did kill the former headman… joking, joking, of course!" She laughs wryly. "And given recent, ah, situations, I would be happy to suggest to the weyrwomen that we have an extra person on hand to advise about what needs to be ordered… if you'd be willing to consider that? Instead of the quilt?"

Gabriela blinks double before turning thoughtful. A job offer to work for a murderer? There’s an interview you don’t get every day! “I’ve yet to meet a Zhirayr. But sure if I can be of help I’d be glad to. It sure beats running food baskets all over creation.” The task she’d found today when she asked how to get somewhere. Note to self, Do NOT ask the cook! “A former killer is nothing I haven’t worked with before anyway.” Deadpan expression. Oh dear. “If you want a quilt ma’am, like I said I have several already made up I brought with me. They just have a Reaches feel to ‘em is all. Consider it something exotic ..or not.”

"Oh, no-no, he's really not a former killer… honestly. I'm quite positive of it." Thys winces a little at having set that misconception, then crosses her arms once more over her chest. "You'll do fine with him, I'm sure. And as I said, I'll ask the weyrwomen when we meet tomorrow, to see what they think of having a dedicated person for double-checking stores orders." Her expression softens, and she gives a gentle shrug. "Sure, I'll come have a look at them. I'm from Crom, so the 'Reaches style isn't too far off what I would find at home."

Gabriela giggles a bit and nods her head, “Oh. Well hey everyone deserves a second chance if he had.” Goodness knows she ran away from home for that very reason. An odd type of girl is she, but not one to really judge. Unless she’s lied to. “I’m sure I’ll like it alright. It has to be easier than trying to do it while bouncing over rutted roads.” When she gets an affirmative on the quilts she hooks a thumb over her shoulder, “I’ll be happy to give you one. Everyone should have something nice to keep them warm.” And once Thys lays eyes on the quilts she’ll wonder the girl didn’t join the Weavers. They are really nice quilts. But when one has idle hands one learns how to stay occupied.

"Report in to Zhirayr tomorrow - he's the one who'll be wearing all black. The kinda good looking one." Do Thys's cheeks flush a little there? Maybe! "Tell him Thys recommended you join his team, and he can speak to me if he doesn't like it. And I wouldn't dream of taking a quilt from you; you'll be paid for it, naturally." There's movement off to the side of them, and Thys looks over to squint through the darkness to try and figure out who it could be. "Oh! R'yal! Wait up a moment!" Then, looking back to Gabriela, she has a warm smile. "Good luck with your new posting. Come find me when you're free, and we'll talk quilts. If you'll excuse me now…" She's got a greenrider to catch up with. The goldrider gives Gabriela a jaunty salute and a wink, before turning to trot across the bowl towards the waiting rider.