Milani is the headwoman. That sucks.
RL Date: 11/17/08
IC Date: 3/24/18 --I have belatedly stolen this log from Milani because I just finally got connectivity from my laptop on the train. :)
Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.
Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.
An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.
Just after lunch. Nice day. Spring is edging its way into the Reaches though it's not exactly the lovely weather that will come later. Still, the patio is no longer a frozen tundra and that could be why Milani is sitting out here with a stack of work orders and her lunch, still barely touched. She writes and now and then reaches for the spoon that stands in rapidly stiffening stew to have a bite, not noticing just how congealed the stuff is getting the longer it sits.
The same old things. N'thei comes out a stride ahead of F'rint, the older man with a mournful-looking shake to his head, the younger with purpose to his long steps. "--isn't settled yet, and there's nothing we can do about that except--" Whatever else might have been said is abruptly clipped, stalled, aborted when gray eyes land on blond hair, and N'thei holds up a warning hand to the man that follows on his heels. Their healthy-debate ends with a brief, "We'll figure it out later."
F'rint and N'thei. N'thei and F'rint. Those are familiar voices and they break through Milani's hide-induced haze enough that she looks up and smiles over at the pair. "Good day!" she calls over, in typically perky fashion. "How's the beer trade?" Very perky.
As long as everything is moving along typically-- "Not your business." That would be N'thei. F'rint actually started to answer, but he winds up just clearing his throat, nodding, and jogging down the steps to do whatever nefarious business keeps him occupied at his Wingleader's bidding.
"Does that mean 'let me run the Snowasis all by myself and never you mind' and I shouldn't make sure you've got clean napkins and plenty of snacky foods to go with the beer?" Milani asks mostly rhetorically and sticks her spoon in her mouth, bites the contents off and then makes a face, looks down at the bowl suddenly and puts the spoon down, swallowing hastily.
Deep breath. Chin jerked to one side so his neck pops. Then N'thei answers around a clipped smile, "Does that mean 'I know I'm mouthing off to the Weyrleader like I think I'm clever because apparently I forgot my place?'" He could just keep walking, his steps already listing in that direction, but he stops to cock an ear and wait with infinite patience for Milani's answer.
Milani just meets that look with a patient one of her own. "No seriously, N'thei, I'm asking you if you want me to just pretend like the Snowasis doesn't exist and just take care of everything else," she answers, fingers rolling her pencil to and fro. "Because even more than before we're working side by side now, aren't we? So really. Tell me. How do you want me to tackle this, so that I don't cock up again."
"If you asked questions without sounding like--" Some words he's better off not saying. N'thei twitches his eye closed momentarily, then makes up his mind to just /have this conversation/ before he goes off to do whatever nefarious business he hasn't already delegated to F'rint. "Do you think we're working side-by-side?" That being the relevant matter.
"Like what, like I'm trying to make light a little?" Milani sighs and puts the pencil down, turns her eyes to the pile of hides, then back up at him. "The bar is part of the lower caverns. The lower caverns are my job. So yes. And if not, then well, kind of need to know. Again, so I don't go putting my foot in something that I'd rather not have to clean up."
N'thei hitches up one eyebrow, an expression that might look questioning or amused on a lot of people. Not him. Like she's trying to make light a little, but then consider in what direction that light attempts to shine. "How about-- when I want you to do something in there, I'll come tell you. Till then."
And yet, she just doesn't quit. Though right now she's just looking up at him steadily still. "Would you like to pick out someone then, who can take care of all the little things without going through me, so we can both pretend like everything is just coming up roses? And I'll keep my lists and checklists and organization out of here, but I'll still come in and bring my marks?" Her head tilts to the side a little as she goes on, something wry underlying the words.
N'thei, flat; "Why are you making an issue out of this?" Really?
"To avoid a repeat of last turn," Milani says bluntly. She still hasn't looked away. "Because I want this to work out." Her hands fold atop the pile of work. She's quite serious.
"Then." Then then then! N'thei looks briefly at the folded hands, intently at Milani's seriousness, and very clearly regrets that he didn't just truck right along with F'rint. No denying it, no hiding it. "Just do what I said. /When I want you to do something, I will tell you what to do./"
Lips press together for a moment, then Milani shrugs. "Fine. Consider it an agreement then. The Snowasis, is all yours," she says and pulls her clipboard out from underneath the rest of her work. Makes a note. Her pencil is set down again and she holds a hand out to the Weyrleader. "Shake on it?"
Occasionally. So rare. The gems of humor sparkle-- "Shake. You have no idea how much I would enjoy shaking you." N'thei even flexes his fingers eagerly at the thought, though they continue to hang harmlessly at his sides while he looks down at Milani's extended hand with no purpose, no intent. "After all this time, how many fights, why don't you just do what I tell you to in the first place? I honestly don't understand."
"The problem is N'thei, is one word in that sentence," Milani says slowly, still looking up at him., one finger raised to count out that one word. "That's the word 'tell'. And I can't understand either why you haven't understood that yet either. You're the Weyrleader. Not the Weyrwoman. When Crom happened, when you were just a rider, you asked for our help. And yes, I did what you said, because you asked and we volunteered and I agreed to follow you. Nothing since has been like that. You just seem to think that you get to order /everyone/ around because you're the Weyrleader. But that's not how it works. So no, I'm sorry. I'm not going to just blindly follow orders, because it's not /your/ place to give them to me. Satiet? Yes. Absolutely. But not you. You want the Snowasis to be your thing, fine. I will keep /entirely/ out of it. That goes for my staff too. The whole nine yards. It's all yours. I will complete work orders for you when and if you have them and that's it. Is that really what you want?"
All right. N'thei can accept that, even shrugs as if that should suffice for an apology on his part. "Will it make it an easier pill for you to swallow if I tell Satiet to tell you what to do?" /Tell./ "What I want with regards to little-Milani-the-headwoman goes a ways further than the Snowasis, my honey, so let's hope for your sake that /what I want/ continues to elude me."
"If she's signing off on it, yes," Milani says simply and starts to stack up her things.
"Though why you can't just get off your high horse and ask for things is beyond me, N'thei. I would rather have worked /with/ you." The bowl of now-really-yicky stew is piled atop everything else and she curls her arm around the stack, steadies the bowl with one hand. The rest she just ignores as she prepares to go. "If you'll excuse me, I need to see a few handymen about some leaks. I'll consider it agreed that the Snowasis is outside of my area of responsibility from today forward. I hope the beer does well."
"Thank you. I hope much the same." Magnanimously, N'thei steps aside to leave ample room for Milani to depart without his interference-- not that he was interfering, but he takes his ample bulk out of the way nonetheless. With no comment on him and his high horse; the air's nice up there.
There's just a nod from Milani as she pointedly walks down the rampway and around into the caverns instead of /through/ the Snowasis so as not to, you know, accidentally bump into F'rint and any possible stinky nefariousness. Air's nice down here too. Springy fresh. Just a little muddy.
IC Date: 3/24/18 --I have belatedly stolen this log from Milani because I just finally got connectivity from my laptop on the train. :)
Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.
Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.
An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.
Just after lunch. Nice day. Spring is edging its way into the Reaches though it's not exactly the lovely weather that will come later. Still, the patio is no longer a frozen tundra and that could be why Milani is sitting out here with a stack of work orders and her lunch, still barely touched. She writes and now and then reaches for the spoon that stands in rapidly stiffening stew to have a bite, not noticing just how congealed the stuff is getting the longer it sits.
The same old things. N'thei comes out a stride ahead of F'rint, the older man with a mournful-looking shake to his head, the younger with purpose to his long steps. "--isn't settled yet, and there's nothing we can do about that except--" Whatever else might have been said is abruptly clipped, stalled, aborted when gray eyes land on blond hair, and N'thei holds up a warning hand to the man that follows on his heels. Their healthy-debate ends with a brief, "We'll figure it out later."
F'rint and N'thei. N'thei and F'rint. Those are familiar voices and they break through Milani's hide-induced haze enough that she looks up and smiles over at the pair. "Good day!" she calls over, in typically perky fashion. "How's the beer trade?" Very perky.
As long as everything is moving along typically-- "Not your business." That would be N'thei. F'rint actually started to answer, but he winds up just clearing his throat, nodding, and jogging down the steps to do whatever nefarious business keeps him occupied at his Wingleader's bidding.
"Does that mean 'let me run the Snowasis all by myself and never you mind' and I shouldn't make sure you've got clean napkins and plenty of snacky foods to go with the beer?" Milani asks mostly rhetorically and sticks her spoon in her mouth, bites the contents off and then makes a face, looks down at the bowl suddenly and puts the spoon down, swallowing hastily.
Deep breath. Chin jerked to one side so his neck pops. Then N'thei answers around a clipped smile, "Does that mean 'I know I'm mouthing off to the Weyrleader like I think I'm clever because apparently I forgot my place?'" He could just keep walking, his steps already listing in that direction, but he stops to cock an ear and wait with infinite patience for Milani's answer.
Milani just meets that look with a patient one of her own. "No seriously, N'thei, I'm asking you if you want me to just pretend like the Snowasis doesn't exist and just take care of everything else," she answers, fingers rolling her pencil to and fro. "Because even more than before we're working side by side now, aren't we? So really. Tell me. How do you want me to tackle this, so that I don't cock up again."
"If you asked questions without sounding like--" Some words he's better off not saying. N'thei twitches his eye closed momentarily, then makes up his mind to just /have this conversation/ before he goes off to do whatever nefarious business he hasn't already delegated to F'rint. "Do you think we're working side-by-side?" That being the relevant matter.
"Like what, like I'm trying to make light a little?" Milani sighs and puts the pencil down, turns her eyes to the pile of hides, then back up at him. "The bar is part of the lower caverns. The lower caverns are my job. So yes. And if not, then well, kind of need to know. Again, so I don't go putting my foot in something that I'd rather not have to clean up."
N'thei hitches up one eyebrow, an expression that might look questioning or amused on a lot of people. Not him. Like she's trying to make light a little, but then consider in what direction that light attempts to shine. "How about-- when I want you to do something in there, I'll come tell you. Till then."
And yet, she just doesn't quit. Though right now she's just looking up at him steadily still. "Would you like to pick out someone then, who can take care of all the little things without going through me, so we can both pretend like everything is just coming up roses? And I'll keep my lists and checklists and organization out of here, but I'll still come in and bring my marks?" Her head tilts to the side a little as she goes on, something wry underlying the words.
N'thei, flat; "Why are you making an issue out of this?" Really?
"To avoid a repeat of last turn," Milani says bluntly. She still hasn't looked away. "Because I want this to work out." Her hands fold atop the pile of work. She's quite serious.
"Then." Then then then! N'thei looks briefly at the folded hands, intently at Milani's seriousness, and very clearly regrets that he didn't just truck right along with F'rint. No denying it, no hiding it. "Just do what I said. /When I want you to do something, I will tell you what to do./"
Lips press together for a moment, then Milani shrugs. "Fine. Consider it an agreement then. The Snowasis, is all yours," she says and pulls her clipboard out from underneath the rest of her work. Makes a note. Her pencil is set down again and she holds a hand out to the Weyrleader. "Shake on it?"
Occasionally. So rare. The gems of humor sparkle-- "Shake. You have no idea how much I would enjoy shaking you." N'thei even flexes his fingers eagerly at the thought, though they continue to hang harmlessly at his sides while he looks down at Milani's extended hand with no purpose, no intent. "After all this time, how many fights, why don't you just do what I tell you to in the first place? I honestly don't understand."
"The problem is N'thei, is one word in that sentence," Milani says slowly, still looking up at him., one finger raised to count out that one word. "That's the word 'tell'. And I can't understand either why you haven't understood that yet either. You're the Weyrleader. Not the Weyrwoman. When Crom happened, when you were just a rider, you asked for our help. And yes, I did what you said, because you asked and we volunteered and I agreed to follow you. Nothing since has been like that. You just seem to think that you get to order /everyone/ around because you're the Weyrleader. But that's not how it works. So no, I'm sorry. I'm not going to just blindly follow orders, because it's not /your/ place to give them to me. Satiet? Yes. Absolutely. But not you. You want the Snowasis to be your thing, fine. I will keep /entirely/ out of it. That goes for my staff too. The whole nine yards. It's all yours. I will complete work orders for you when and if you have them and that's it. Is that really what you want?"
All right. N'thei can accept that, even shrugs as if that should suffice for an apology on his part. "Will it make it an easier pill for you to swallow if I tell Satiet to tell you what to do?" /Tell./ "What I want with regards to little-Milani-the-headwoman goes a ways further than the Snowasis, my honey, so let's hope for your sake that /what I want/ continues to elude me."
"If she's signing off on it, yes," Milani says simply and starts to stack up her things.
"Though why you can't just get off your high horse and ask for things is beyond me, N'thei. I would rather have worked /with/ you." The bowl of now-really-yicky stew is piled atop everything else and she curls her arm around the stack, steadies the bowl with one hand. The rest she just ignores as she prepares to go. "If you'll excuse me, I need to see a few handymen about some leaks. I'll consider it agreed that the Snowasis is outside of my area of responsibility from today forward. I hope the beer does well."
"Thank you. I hope much the same." Magnanimously, N'thei steps aside to leave ample room for Milani to depart without his interference-- not that he was interfering, but he takes his ample bulk out of the way nonetheless. With no comment on him and his high horse; the air's nice up there.
There's just a nod from Milani as she pointedly walks down the rampway and around into the caverns instead of /through/ the Snowasis so as not to, you know, accidentally bump into F'rint and any possible stinky nefariousness. Air's nice down here too. Springy fresh. Just a little muddy.