Ista Weyr - Lower Caverns
Twin caverns stretch off from each other, wide and bustling. This is the heart of Ista Weyr, where its residents and support staff live and work. The area is filled with people throughout the day, and through much of the evening and nighttime hours. Seldom is it completely still here, some drudge or resident often lingering for one reason or another. The space itself is immense, breaking away into a warren of different tunnels and winding stairs, leading to numerous places within the depths of the weyr. Tendrils of steam creep past the heavy canvas that drapes across the entryway to the hotsprings, whilst the records room door - often locked - is located further on. A smooth staircase, massive in comparison to the rest, provides access to the living caverns, with a myriad other dim passages leading to private offices, numerous storage caverns, and the quarters of the weyr's residents. Many of the walls are smooth with use, as is the dark stone floor beneath, although it becomes rougher the deeper one goes; the ceiling arches high above, almost rounded at its farthest point. And amongst the comings and goings, occasional hearths and clusters of couches and chairs provide inviting islands of rest amidst the activity.


It seems that Stephane is just wandering around on his down time. Might as well! It's a weyr he's never been too and getting mostly lost is always an adventure. He walks around, looking from place to place and not really paying much mind to what's around him or whom.

Miarene is walking down the hallway from the records room, a troubled set to her shapely mouth. There's a sheaf of papers tucked beneath her arm, and whatever worries her is shook away with a sharp toss of her head. A deep breath refashions the smile on her lips and the young woman continues to walk, her path on an intersection course with Stephane's.

Thankfully for the both of them, Stephane spins juuust in time to not plow over the young woman with the troubled look set to her face. He turns and pulls up short rather quickly, pulling his arms quickly to his sides to keep from smacking the poor lady as he turns. "Ah, Carine how're you?" He always has that bright, a bit too large of teeth, cheery smile on his face. He gives a modest half-bow to her, as he missed her recompose herself before he turned. "Digging up some reading?" He asks, looking to the scroll. He wouldn't be found in the record room, that's to be sure. He can't read.

She doesn't respond to Carine immediately, despite the fact that the person calling her this name is standing right in front of her. Mia's about to walk straight past the nutjob that's saying the wrong name when she wheels about and flashes a quick smile. "Right, Carine. That's me. Just checking on some things for the Headwoman. Numbers, tithes. Those kinds of things." Serious business, for sure. "Don't tell me… Marek?"

"Terrible with names, it seems. Perhaps remembering the one you gave and then my own. Close.." Stephane says, grinning as he moves to the side and leans against the wall for the time being. "Stephane." He motions to himself. "From the troupe in the bowl." He says. "It's nice to see you doing work for her. Is that your job?"

"Terrible," Miarene confirms, her smile unrepentant. "My family always joked my memory could rival that of a dragon's." She retraces her steps back more from that initial pivot to step nearer the entertainer. "Stephane. I'll try and remember this time. I'm one of her many assistants. I try to do my best. You? You wander Pern looking for hand outs, or do you really live up to the title entertainer?"

"Handouts? We're not some shabby troupe!" Stephane says, sounding a little offended. "I most /certainly/ live up to the title entertainer. I'm a born one, it's in my bones." He says, still leaning against the wall behid him. "And memory is a fickle thing, easy to find from time to time and yet fleeting and shadow like at others." He counts. "And what sort of entertainment are you looking for?"

"I'm teasing," says the young woman, her smile turning crooked at the offense in his voice. "What kind of entertainer are you? I saw a sampling of your troupe that day, but what do you do yourself?" Miarene folds her arms over her chest and leans against the opposite wall in this hallway to study Stephane.

"I'm a juggler, a singer, an actor." Stephane begins. "But my unique talents lay in my physical prowess." He bows towards her and bends down to touch the flat of his hands against the floor. He walks up the wall and does a simple handstand. Not too impressive. He shifts his weight onto one hand, and then onto three fingers of that one hand. It looks as if he's about to fall towards 'Carina' when his feet begin to fall towards her, but he bends himself nearly at the waist to plant his feet down onto the ground and he unfolds himself back to standing. It seems that he's not only double jointed, but beyond flexible. He doesn't speak and just leans backward against the wall once again.

Miarene isn't so easily impressed. It shows in the dubiousness that flitters in her gaze as she watches Stephane begin, and slowly disappears. At the end, there's a step back, though there's only the wall to step back into, and a clap over her mouth. Then, a long silence where she just looks at him, that crooked amusement curving her mouth. "I take it back. No hand outs. Well earned. I'm Miarene."

A wry grin comes to Stephane's face as he holds his hand out towards her as she gives him another name. Perhaps a real one this time. "Ah, well met Miarene." He says, nodding his head towards her. "That's a limited display as well. I can.." He lifts his foot up and puts it behind his head, without touching it with his other hand. "Do this with both legs… of course I'd fall flat on my rump if I did." He snerks

"Where are you from? Care to join me for a snack?" Miarene gestures towards the living cavern, "Was going to dig around the storage rooms for a redfruit or two. Or maybe being too optimistic about the state of our fresh fruit. "Born and bred Istan," she answers, even before he can answer her own question, preemptive in presuming he'll ask back.

"Around." Comes Stephane's reply as he puts his foot back down and bows towards Miarene. "Of course, snacking is always welcome." He pats his flat stomach. "I'm always hungry." He pushes off the wall and begins to walk with Mira. "It is a /lovely/ place to be born, that's for sure."

Mia slants Stephane a look, brow cocked up and a tilt to her head. "Around. So vague. Got something to hide? Should we be counting our silver in your wake?" But her arm that links into his is affable enough. Leading him down the hall and into the living cavern. But it's not there they stop, ducking into the kitchen and down towards the storage rooms. She has a key, after all. "Ista's Ista. I've never left the island. I really have no plans to. Why would anyone? It's paradise right? If you don't mind the rationed foods."

"We've brought our own food. And I rightly don't know where I was born. My family has always been traders and troupers." Stephane says, giving Mia a bit of a shoulder nudge as she mentions him having something to hide. "I gave my real name, if you remember." He teases, before he follows along with her into the storage rooms. He looks around, glacing at all of the foods and sundries

"One night stands," she pauses, before adding archly, "Of which you were not. Don't really deserve my real name. Since you don't seem like a random drifter with no marks to his name, I suppose you can't be all that bad." Miarene releases his arm, sinking to her knees in front of burlap bags of foodstuff and crows with triumph. "One for you," she tosses a redfruit behind her shoulder at him, catch! "One for me."

"Ah, understandable." Stephane grins at that. "So you were thinking of that when you gave me that name then?" He catches the redfruit and tosses it back up into the air not catching it, but guiding it along it's arc, letting it's own momentum move it around so as to not bruise the fruit. "I've got some marks…a few." He snerks, laughing a bit at that and looking at the fruit.

Mia laughs, a bubbly sound, before biting into her redfruit with a crisp sound. "It's always on my mind. Sizing up, considering. But isn't that what weyrbred girls do?" The slender woman stands and continues to eat her snack, one arm over her abdomen, the elbow of her other arm resting against her wrist. "How long are you guys here?"

"We're doing a solid brisk business, so we're probably going to extend a couple of more sevendays, if the Headwoman will let us." Stephane takes a bite of his own fruit before he grins at the young woman before him. "Well that's the /rumor/ but I like to take each person as they are." He states. "So how do I size up?" He asks, grinning an impish, if toothy smile.

Miarene feigns innocence, biting into her redfruit and arcing one brow up. "In what way?" It's practically a sing song.

"In the eyeballing me like I was a potential conquest way." Stephane says, munching on his own fruit before he reaches down and tugs at his shirt to show off a bit of his form. "I mean, if you'd like to appraise the goods… I'm all about fair trade and knowing what one would be getting." He grins again.

"Are you upset to be so objectified?" Miarene doesn't even glance at the shirt that is pulled down, looking instead at Stephane's face. "Isn't that what most men do with unsuspecting girls?" She leans a hip against a stack of crates.

"It absolutely is a shame to be objectified. But I'm an entertainer.. I'm /always/ objectified. I have been since I could bend myself into a ball. It doesn't phase me anymore. And you're too clever to be a person in the objectifying manner. And unfortunately, men do that /all/ the time. They think the worth of a woman or lady is in their boobs or rear. I know my worth is in my boobs and rear." He winks, laughing. "But to speak serious…I'm used to it. I'm a barker, I'm a entertainer. Eyes are always on me, and have always done that one way or another." He shrugs. "It's also why I'm not ashamed of my huge front teeth" He gives her another grin, showing off his toothy smile.

That may have been the right answer. Or the too perfect one. Or not answer enough. It's hard to tell from the simple smile on Miarene's mouth. "We'll talk again if you're still here a week from now. I should get these papers to the Headwoman in the mean time." A hand reaches out to press, briefly, into Stephane's chest and pairs the touch, however fleeting it is, with a wink. "Catch you later, stud."

A small laugh at that and Stephane nods his head towards the fleeting woman as he gives her another winning toothy smile. "My Lady." He flourishes that with a twirl of his hand towards her as she makes a movement to head out. "And do let her know we'd love to stay for as long as she'd have us."

"I'll see what I can accomplish. You need to get out of here so I can lock up too." Trust only goes so far, after all. And once the two are back in the kitchen, storage rooms all locked nicely, Miarene drifts on off back to the lower caverns and presumably the Headwoman's office.

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