There's a thief about...

15th March 2004
Logged by Donis

Resident Dorms
'Reach's bold, starlit blue has faded to a gentle blend of varying hues along the walls of these interlinked caverns, the Crafting area's each marked with the color of their origin along with the clutter that accompanies the various Weyr-crafters. But dorms are dorms, and tidy rows of cots march in an orderly fashion along every available space, their panoply of coverlets softly lit by well-tended glows.

Donis infiltrates the resident dorms, glancing at the cots and presses and people as he wanders through the first couple of small caverns - alert for all that he's out of uniform.

Axle just having shaven and bathed (finally), Axle is sitting on the edge of his cot with a towel thrown around his neck and one foot resting on the other knee as he fumbles with his boot laces. Clean as he is, it's clear that he hasn't had much sleep of late - not only is he pale, but the circles under his eyes would probably impress most of the local ferrets, and he has to blink hard and often to keep his laces in focus. At the sound of Donis' voice, however, his head snaps up, his cold glare suddenly quite alert. Uh oh.

Rajanigandha hardly glances upward as Donis approaches her cot. She flashes a momentary friendly smile and then returns to scribbling in her diary. Head bent she is unaware if he passes her by. Her legs are hidden beneath a brightly colored blanket, and she is propped against the short headboard with a pillow. Every few moments she will reach to the little brown ink pot sitting on her chest beside her bed to dip her writing utensil into it.

Cetistia is busy, as usual, brushing her hair, looking at the ends, making sure it's beautiful. She pushes her mass of hair behind her shoulders, then brings some forward, then pushes it behind her ears, all the time looking into her small mirror. At Donis' enterance, she looks up momentarily, smiles, then goes back to playing with her hair.

Donis nods to the people he passes, eyes narrowed as he looks around. Eventually he takes up a position in a doorway and clears his throat, pointedly. "Ahem. I'm conducting a survey for the guards - you may have noticed my notice in the living caverns." He scowls at the clumsiness of his statement, but continues. "Has anyone had anything go missing, or noticed anything suspicious lately?"

Axle turns his head to peer at those on either side of him, his eyes clear - if a bit questioning as he locks his gaze back on Donis. "Still haven't found him yet? How long has it been now, hm? His hideout is probably literally overflowing with stolen goods by this point…The odds suggest that you probably should have accidentally tripped over him by now."

Rajanigandha comes to a point where both pages of her diary are filled with wet dark brown ink. She pulls her legs toward her indian-style fashion and sits up to settle the book upon the mattress to dry a while. Once she has her reed carefully cleaned and put away she turns to peer at Donis while he speaks. She had missed Axle returning from his apparent bath. Twisting around on her cot she leans around someone else's decorations to watch him say his bit. The moment his lips stop moving she turns back around to smile at Donis. "I've noticed a ring of mine has gone missing," she mentions. "I haven't really had the time to come report it yet," she explains with a lift of her shoulders. "I was sort of hoping I had just misplaced it." She glances around to see who all might be staring at her now. Not too many folk appear awake in her particular row.

Cetistia shrugs, still brushing her hair. She hasn't had anything go missing, nothing that she knows of anyway. Being the usual sarcastic person that she is, Cet replies, "Some people have been missing common sense as of late." She gives herself a smug smile at that. "Other than that, no."

Of average height and wiry construction, nothing particular seems to stand out about him from afar. His dark brown, somewhat greasy hair is cut fairly short - one or two inches from the skull - and though generally swept back, it usually doesn't remain that way for very long. Expressive brows hood over leering, clear blue eyes that glint with a sort of creepy intelligence, dominating his otherwise pale and angled features above his close-cropped goatee. On the whole, he probably wouldn't be perceived as being overly charming or attractive.
Baggy and somewhat coarse, the once bright maroon hue of his longsleeved shirt has faded over the turns. The loose collar and sleeves suggest that it was once owned by somebody of wider girth, though his black trousers appear to have actually tailored for him, but the onyx sheen of his black boots makes them seem faded in comparison. Not overly snug, they allow plenty of freedom for several pockets to be hidden within.

Long ebon hair stretches inches past her waist where left it's flowing freely. Her shadow-kissed locks are parted on either side of her head, just above her ear. All the hair above the part has been smoothed perfectly flat and woven into a long braid. Blue/black highlights glisten along the rest of the cascading length that stretches inches past her waist. Surprisingly thin eyebrows arc above eyes that shine with the intense clarity of pure amber. The hue of a clear gold sunset. A small button nose rests above two full sensous lips. She is charming with a large bright smile. Earthly tones of red earth envelope her smooth unmarred body. Her skin is alight with a nearly luminous glow. Long health and vitality emanate from within. The frame of her body barely stretches past the five foot mark.
A sable-colored cotton sweater moulds to her torso in a soft blanket of warm cloth. Accenting the shirt is a plunging neckline that halts in a crips 'V' exactly at the first sewn button. The small buttons nearly vanish within the plush fabric, but manage to secure the shirt's front. Long sleeves stretch along her arm to conclude just past her wrist. The wonderfully soft knit sweater ends at her waist where a pair of black pants originates. Dull wherhide is slung low on her trim hips, the onyx hide cut to fit. Snug fitting waist and thighs gradually widen as they stretch past her knees and calves to scrape the ground. The toes of solid black boots peek out from beneath her dragging pants legs. An ol' rucksack hangs heavily from Rajanigandha's shoulder.

Perfectly straight honey blonde hair falls to about the middle of this young woman's back. Her hair is not layered; it is all one length, making it appear to be very thick. Piercing carmel-colored eyes, if brown eyes really can be piercing, peer out from a very aristocratic looking face. A beaked nose, with a very pronounced tip, thin pink lips, slim eyebrows, and defined cheekbones make up the rest of her face. Her skin is fair and smooth, yet shows some signs of being sun-browned, as a few freckles fall across her nose and onto her cheeks. The woman stands at a rather tall height for being female, looking to be around 5'11. She is obviously muscular, her arms showing the most outward appearance of being so. It seems as if her face shows off her personality quite well. Her demeanor is haughty, but it's not the fact that she thinks she is too good for anyone. Just that no one is good enough for her.
Cetista wears a dress of palest willowbark pink, which complements her complexion to perfection. The bodice fastens behind with three fabric covered buttons, supported by two delicate ribbons which attatch at the front and cross over at the back, revealing slightly tanned shoulders. The dress fits snugly at the waist and flares out naturally from the hip to create a full, ankle length skirt which will float airily in any gentle breeze. Upon her feet, you see a pair of brushed wherhide sandals, dyed to match the shade of the dress perfectly.

Donis gives Rajanigandha a nod and Cetistia a look of derision, but Axle wins the prize - a fully-fledged, beetle-browed scowl from the young guard. "Indeed, it seems that quite a few things /have/ been stolen, even if not everyone reports them." Raja receives a lift of Donis's thick eyebrows before he frowns again at Axle. "I'm considering getting permission from the Weyrleaders to start checking through people's belongings." Does he look a bit too long at Axle as he says this?

Axle chuckles darkly, finishing up with this bootlaces to allow both feet to thump heavily to the floor. "As long as he's been leading you around, it seems a little unlikely that he would be foolish enough to hide what he's stolen anywhere near him. Then again, I suppose that's a matter of opinion. Perhaps he's entirely incompetant, but very lucky so far. Or perhaps the guards simply don't have any idea what they're doing." Flashing a sharkish smile back at Donis' scowl, Axle pulls the towel from around his neck to scrub quickly at his hair with it.

Rajanigandha has been in a bad mood lately as it is. Her friendly smile vanishes like a puff of smoke, leaving an unhappy scowl in its wake. "Oh lovely," she grouses almost beneath her breath but not close enough. The idea of bumbling guards breaking all of her expensive jars put her on edge. Her lively hood rests in what little belongings are shoved beneath her cot and resting in her chest. Instead of scowling at Donis she glares at her diary instead. Seeing that the pages are dry she flips to a new set and hefts the book back into her lap. Apparently she has more to write.

"Well, if he's foolish enough to steal around here, then perhaps he's foolish enough to get caught," Donis replies to Axle, eyes narrowed. "I take it /you've/ seen nothing that could, perhaps, help the guards then?" he challenges the older man.

Cetistia rolls her eyes and places her brush down. She has no concern with anyone stealing anything of hers, mostly since she would beat the crap out of them if she ever caught them. She lays back on her bed and pulls her pink blankets over her head to take a nap. Until she finally falls asleep though, she listens to their conversation.

"I haven't *seen* anything, but then again, I'm not the one responsible for looking." Axle replies dryly, folding the towel neatly in his lap before simply tossing it onto the disheveled cot behind him. "Anyway, with a guard system as ineffectual as ours, I think it's rather clever of him to steal from around here."

Donis is biting his tongue very hard - or rather, his bottom lip. "Really, Axle. That's what you'd do yourself, is it?" He looks around the caverns again, eyes narrowed. "I would've have thought someone as /obviously/ intelligent as yourself would've at least noticed something. But then, I suppose, even if you did, you wouldn't be interested in helping the Weyr."

Rajanigandha makes an attempt to pretend she isn't eavesdropping on their conversation. She flicks a momentary glance at Axle when she turns around to reposition her pillow. Once she has turned back around it is a matter of concentrating on her diary. Something she finds rather difficult at the moment. With a sigh she gives up the ink for the moment and starts a sketch on the empty page with her hide wrapped charcoal stick.

"Ah, smarter than you look." Axle drawls, slipping his hands into his pockets as he stands, sizing Donis up subtly. "Well, you're correct. I don't think I would have reported it even if I had seen anything. Not without a personal reason for doing so."

Donis doesn't care who eavesdrops - he certainly has nothing to hide, for all he may suspect Axle does. "Ahh, so perhaps if we'd put up a reward, I may have got more information?" The lad looks rather disgusted at that - he clearly believes in Doing Right for the Weyr. With a shrug, he turns smartly and heads for the door, looking back only to comment: "Well, I hope your consciences - and the contents of your cots - are clear, everyone. Since I'll be asking permission to search." Perhaps not the best idea to put people on their guard, but he's ever so slightly riled.

Sylara speaks up before the guard leaves. "Ah, sir…." She isn't sure how she wants to do this, but she wants to talk to him. Maybe in private, where /certain/ ears can't hear.

Axle chuckles, his brows knit as he watches Donis head out with a smile. He's already had enough sense to disperse most of his stolen mark purses in various storage areas

Donis pauses. Presumably that 'sir' was for him. "Yes?" he peers at Sylara.

As you gaze up on this small, frail form, you notice her shoulder-length blonde hair framin an oval face. Her eyes shine, but you are unsure if they shine for joy or eagerness. She has a slender frame, and lithe limbs. Her mouth is set in a grin most of the time. When it isn't, it is probably quivering nervously.
She has donned a thick green dress, the color of a sparkly emerald. Luckily, she found a matching scarf to wear over her ears and hair. She wears a silver ring on her right pinky.
You see a double cord in the colors showing Sylara to be an assistant Nanny at High Reaches.

Axle chuckles, his brows knit as he watches Donis head out with a smile. He's already had enough sense to disperse most of his stolen mark purses in various storage areas around the Weyr, which leaves him with the fair amount that he has stashed in several of his pockets just in case he ends up getting kicked out one of these days.

Sylara saunters up to the guard. "May I speak with you, maybe in /private/?"

Donis looks over the slender blonde. "Outside," he offers, stomping out of the resident dorms without another word.

Out out out you go! Did you make your bed?
Inner Caverns
Ancient caverns unfold in an endless maze of tunnels and stairs, the Weyr's cavities a labyrinth to the uninitiated. Here, trimmed by the last of the stone cutters, arched walls and vaulted ceilings retain the soapy smoothness of well-worn stone, as do the endless tunnel floors kept clear and tidy. Shadows creep and flicker across these glowlit mountain walls, creatures of non-light wending their way east to the main caverns and bowl, or branching out in a web of caves to the Weyr's living spaces.
Shadowed on stone-smooth ledge are six firelizards.

Sylara arrives from the Weyr's dorms.

"Sir," She begins again. "I suppose you may already know this, and I don't have any …um, real proof, but…" Sylara stops to check out the flits on the wall.

Donis checks the corridor to make sure no human is listening - no firelizard is capable of relaying conversations to the people they look to, even if they can make sense of emotions. "Sylara, isn't it?" Donis checks, and gives her a smile. "You don't have to call me sir, you know…. I'm only a recruit. What do you know?" he encourages as gently as possible.

Sylara scowls as she notices a blue fire lizzard. "Drat." She points up to Javert, and leans in toward Donis. "Axle has been acting really weird since I've been here." Aside from his general rudeness, that is.

Donis lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "A lot of people act oddly," he points out in a slightly less gentle tone. "Is there anything specific?"

"I've seen him out on the beach counting things." Syl continues. "I know that's not a crime, but it just seemed weird. I figure you've already got your eyes on him, but I felt I needed to tell you." She finishes with a flourish of her arms as if to say, "there. I've done it."

Donis nods, and manages not to dismiss Sylara's information with a shrug. "Well, you're right. It's not a crime… but it is suspicious. And I do have my eye on him. There's something about that man I just don't like." Apart from the fact he's intensely rude, that is. "Thanks, Sylara. It's nice to see that someone will help their Weyr."

Sylara nods. "Of course. The Weyr is my home. And if something is going on, I want to help." She is very glad to have been of some help. It has just been bothering her.

Donis gives Sylara a broader smile, one that brightens his brown eyes. "Thanks again, Sylara… Very good of you. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to the headwoman." And off he trundles.

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