Social call.
Mar. 5th, 2017 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kiananlogsSunday, 5 March 2017
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
Evening comes around again, and with it some increased traffic in the main part of the Edgewood house as people come and go. But at the moment, the increased traffic comes in the form of the inset people-door to the garage from the outside opening. Yael steps in, and shuts the door behind her, tucking something back into the pocket of her pants as she does, and then calls out, "Hello?" followed by, "Sandra?" by way of announcement of the otherwise relatively quiet arrival. "You around?"
On the upper loft, there's at least a hint of rustling to be heard, and a hesitation to follow. "I'm here," is said, yes, but there's an uncertain pause to follow. After that, it takes a moment for the Shadow Lord to lean over the edge of the loft, looking for all the world like she didn't get a hell of a lot of sleep the night before. "Something I can help you with?"
Yael leans against the wall, and looks up at where the other woman is, brows ticking upward slightly. Her shoulders raise and lower in a slight shrug, and instead of an answer, the Shadow Lord philodox gets a question. "How're you holding up?" Even if the answer might be obvious.
Sandra's head cants for a moment, brow lifting. She steps closer to the edge to look down, and says, "There's been a lot of work to be done around the house," apparently deciding that now is as good a time as any to descend the ladder leading up to the loft. "Sleep is at a premium," she continues, pausing to dismount, and straighten, "and so is the general concept of 'time'. I'd wager today is the first day I've had 'off' from getting a lay of the land since I arrived."
The adren listens, and nods, moving to sit down over on one of the mats. The expectation for the other to follow her is clear, but not pushy or outright stated. "Time to breathe is important," she says. "Everything to do here will still be here." She lets out a long, slow breath. "I've been working on some of the plastering in the main part of the house when I've got a chance, myself. I learned a lot of home repair skills when I stayed with the Mokolé for a few weeks at one of their wallows, after I made adren."
It takes a perceptive sort to notice the brief hesitation before Sandra makes a move for the mats, seating herself after a time, one hand going to her pocket, and then drifting away. Whatever that was meant for, she's apparently decided against it. "Somehow," she says, "'I learned from doing maintenance on the family ranch' doesn't sound nearly as interesting."
Yael snorts, quietly. "It sounds like you are probably a lot better at it than I am, though," she says. "When we left the kibbutz for the city I was still pretty young, and in the city the landlord did maintenance on the flat. And on the kibbutz they mostly made sure children were seen and not heard and out of everyone's way."
Sandra mn's somewhat distractedly, "Sounds vaguely familiar," offered absently as she looks off to the middle-distance for a moment or two. Then, her gaze shifts back to Yael for a moment, her expression turning curious. "I'm sorry," she says, "I don't mean to sound rude, but you never answered my question before. Was there something you needed, or is this a social call?" she doesn't sound roundly opposed to one, but she certainly doesn't look like she's completely With It tonight.
Yael moves from crosslegged to one knee pulled up around her chest, arms draped loosely around it, and that vaguely owlish tilt to her head once again. "Oh, I didn't did I, I'm sorry," Yael responds. "It's both, really. Since it seems like I'm staying around, I've been making a point to find all of our auspice and talk, get a feel for how things are." She offers a vague smile, as well, "And it is a social call as well." Given the moon goes unsaid.
Seems Sandra should be similarly chatty, all things considered. Instead, for the moment, she looks a little— uneasy. Though that may not be the best word for it. Also knows better than to say, "I'll confess, I may not be the best company, at the moment. At least not for social calls. I should be, granted, but— sleep being what it is…" A pause. "I'll just have to apologize ahead of time for spacing out, I suppose."
Yael nods, and there's a soft 'heh' sound, but for all that the weight of the moon rests visibly on her shoulders, the Strider displays her usual amount of patience, even bordering on kind in her tone of voice. "If you'll be able to, I'll leave you to sleep in a bit," she says. "And it's fine. If there's anything otherwise that I can do to help, let me know."
Sandra notes the tone— favors Yael with a look for a moment or two, but doesn't comment. If she's offended by the light touch approach, she's not showing it. "It seems unlikely that 'sleep' will be happening anytime soon," she admits. "As for assistance— I can't think of anything at the moment." A pause. "Oh. Though I suppose it may be worth mentioning. Salem— who'd been previously noted to me as having an avid hatred for Shadow Lords, for obvious reasons." Beat. "Thane had mentioned he wasn't born Philodox."
"One of the few people I'd heard of from here before arriving," Yael says. "although I have to say that he wasn't precisely who I was expecting." She lifts her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "When I can't sleep, I run until I am finally so tired that I have no choice," she says, "but I suspect that I have it somewhat…" She pauses, not bothering to mask the part where she is searching for a word in English, "easier."
The bit about Salem is breezed over rather easily, Sandra's head canting slightly at what's said after. "Easier?" she asks.
The adren snorts a little bit, and spouts something off in rapid, slightly accented Arabic, and then holds up one finger. "Luna does not pull quite as much on me," she says, then, "as she seems to on either you or Salem-yuf. And I cannot speak to what that is like because I do not know." She shakes her head, and then offers another shrug.
Sandra considers what's being said for a time, expression not— flat so much as vaguely contemplative. "I'd like to think I have a fair grasp on it," she says, after a time. "For one reason or another, that pull was there well before I changed, so I'm used to it. It's just— a bit tiring, at the moment. To put it mildly." She looks to Yael. "The werewolf equivalent of jetlag, perhaps."
Another nod. "Yeah. I'm just… restless," Yael admits. There's a bit of curiosity in her expression as she looks at the older woman, but whatever that expression is does not resolve to a voiced question. "But everyone experiences it differently, as well. I don't advise Luna's a bitch jetlag combined with actual jetlag or confined spaces, by the way. Done it a few times although mostly on boats rather than planes, and not a fan." She grins. "If I'm going to have to cross time zones, I'll find a moon bridge."
Just the thought of confined spaces seems to sour Sandra's expression a touch, one thumbnail absently picking at the side of the other. She stops it, after a time, smoothing her fingers over the back of her hand. 'Restless' is echoed, here, certainly. "I know better than to travel during times like this," she says. "Too many risks involved." A pause. "As you say, it affects us all differently."
The Strider drums her fingers across her knees. "That's our reality," Yael muses, and then leans back somewhat. "Even with all there is to be done and trying to get the rhythm of being back into things, it's been… nice to have somewhere to be."
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (52% full).
Evening comes around again, and with it some increased traffic in the main part of the Edgewood house as people come and go. But at the moment, the increased traffic comes in the form of the inset people-door to the garage from the outside opening. Yael steps in, and shuts the door behind her, tucking something back into the pocket of her pants as she does, and then calls out, "Hello?" followed by, "Sandra?" by way of announcement of the otherwise relatively quiet arrival. "You around?"
On the upper loft, there's at least a hint of rustling to be heard, and a hesitation to follow. "I'm here," is said, yes, but there's an uncertain pause to follow. After that, it takes a moment for the Shadow Lord to lean over the edge of the loft, looking for all the world like she didn't get a hell of a lot of sleep the night before. "Something I can help you with?"
Yael leans against the wall, and looks up at where the other woman is, brows ticking upward slightly. Her shoulders raise and lower in a slight shrug, and instead of an answer, the Shadow Lord philodox gets a question. "How're you holding up?" Even if the answer might be obvious.
Sandra's head cants for a moment, brow lifting. She steps closer to the edge to look down, and says, "There's been a lot of work to be done around the house," apparently deciding that now is as good a time as any to descend the ladder leading up to the loft. "Sleep is at a premium," she continues, pausing to dismount, and straighten, "and so is the general concept of 'time'. I'd wager today is the first day I've had 'off' from getting a lay of the land since I arrived."
The adren listens, and nods, moving to sit down over on one of the mats. The expectation for the other to follow her is clear, but not pushy or outright stated. "Time to breathe is important," she says. "Everything to do here will still be here." She lets out a long, slow breath. "I've been working on some of the plastering in the main part of the house when I've got a chance, myself. I learned a lot of home repair skills when I stayed with the Mokolé for a few weeks at one of their wallows, after I made adren."
It takes a perceptive sort to notice the brief hesitation before Sandra makes a move for the mats, seating herself after a time, one hand going to her pocket, and then drifting away. Whatever that was meant for, she's apparently decided against it. "Somehow," she says, "'I learned from doing maintenance on the family ranch' doesn't sound nearly as interesting."
Yael snorts, quietly. "It sounds like you are probably a lot better at it than I am, though," she says. "When we left the kibbutz for the city I was still pretty young, and in the city the landlord did maintenance on the flat. And on the kibbutz they mostly made sure children were seen and not heard and out of everyone's way."
Sandra mn's somewhat distractedly, "Sounds vaguely familiar," offered absently as she looks off to the middle-distance for a moment or two. Then, her gaze shifts back to Yael for a moment, her expression turning curious. "I'm sorry," she says, "I don't mean to sound rude, but you never answered my question before. Was there something you needed, or is this a social call?" she doesn't sound roundly opposed to one, but she certainly doesn't look like she's completely With It tonight.
Yael moves from crosslegged to one knee pulled up around her chest, arms draped loosely around it, and that vaguely owlish tilt to her head once again. "Oh, I didn't did I, I'm sorry," Yael responds. "It's both, really. Since it seems like I'm staying around, I've been making a point to find all of our auspice and talk, get a feel for how things are." She offers a vague smile, as well, "And it is a social call as well." Given the moon goes unsaid.
Seems Sandra should be similarly chatty, all things considered. Instead, for the moment, she looks a little— uneasy. Though that may not be the best word for it. Also knows better than to say, "I'll confess, I may not be the best company, at the moment. At least not for social calls. I should be, granted, but— sleep being what it is…" A pause. "I'll just have to apologize ahead of time for spacing out, I suppose."
Yael nods, and there's a soft 'heh' sound, but for all that the weight of the moon rests visibly on her shoulders, the Strider displays her usual amount of patience, even bordering on kind in her tone of voice. "If you'll be able to, I'll leave you to sleep in a bit," she says. "And it's fine. If there's anything otherwise that I can do to help, let me know."
Sandra notes the tone— favors Yael with a look for a moment or two, but doesn't comment. If she's offended by the light touch approach, she's not showing it. "It seems unlikely that 'sleep' will be happening anytime soon," she admits. "As for assistance— I can't think of anything at the moment." A pause. "Oh. Though I suppose it may be worth mentioning. Salem— who'd been previously noted to me as having an avid hatred for Shadow Lords, for obvious reasons." Beat. "Thane had mentioned he wasn't born Philodox."
"One of the few people I'd heard of from here before arriving," Yael says. "although I have to say that he wasn't precisely who I was expecting." She lifts her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "When I can't sleep, I run until I am finally so tired that I have no choice," she says, "but I suspect that I have it somewhat…" She pauses, not bothering to mask the part where she is searching for a word in English, "easier."
The bit about Salem is breezed over rather easily, Sandra's head canting slightly at what's said after. "Easier?" she asks.
The adren snorts a little bit, and spouts something off in rapid, slightly accented Arabic, and then holds up one finger. "Luna does not pull quite as much on me," she says, then, "as she seems to on either you or Salem-yuf. And I cannot speak to what that is like because I do not know." She shakes her head, and then offers another shrug.
Sandra considers what's being said for a time, expression not— flat so much as vaguely contemplative. "I'd like to think I have a fair grasp on it," she says, after a time. "For one reason or another, that pull was there well before I changed, so I'm used to it. It's just— a bit tiring, at the moment. To put it mildly." She looks to Yael. "The werewolf equivalent of jetlag, perhaps."
Another nod. "Yeah. I'm just… restless," Yael admits. There's a bit of curiosity in her expression as she looks at the older woman, but whatever that expression is does not resolve to a voiced question. "But everyone experiences it differently, as well. I don't advise Luna's a bitch jetlag combined with actual jetlag or confined spaces, by the way. Done it a few times although mostly on boats rather than planes, and not a fan." She grins. "If I'm going to have to cross time zones, I'll find a moon bridge."
Just the thought of confined spaces seems to sour Sandra's expression a touch, one thumbnail absently picking at the side of the other. She stops it, after a time, smoothing her fingers over the back of her hand. 'Restless' is echoed, here, certainly. "I know better than to travel during times like this," she says. "Too many risks involved." A pause. "As you say, it affects us all differently."
The Strider drums her fingers across her knees. "That's our reality," Yael muses, and then leans back somewhat. "Even with all there is to be done and trying to get the rhythm of being back into things, it's been… nice to have somewhere to be."