[Log] The Line-Up
Who: E'sere, Issa, M'eri, Reyce
When: Day 12, Month 1, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
What: E'sere has dinner with Issa, M'eri, and Reyce.
Living Cavern
Large enough to hold the majority of the Weyr's human population, this cavern can become loud enough to deafen thanks to the acoustics caused by its size. The ceiling is so far overhead that it's cast into shadow, a darkness that is broken only by the spark and glitter of a lucky beam of light striking the minerals found in the rock walls. Below, most of the floor is covered with an assortment of long tables and benches. There are some smaller tables, surrounded by chairs, but privacy appears to be a rare thing in this bustling cavern. Large hearths line the west wall, with fires burning day and night to warm the food and drink that keep the Weyr's inhabitants fueled. The serving tables are near the hearth, opposite the dais that holds the single table reserved for the Weyr leadership and honored guests.
Contents:
Issa Reyce M'eri
Obvious Exits:
Upper Caverns (UC) Lower Caverns (LC) Kitchen (K)
Infirmary (INF) Bowl (B)
Issa smiles at M'eri's amusement, again catching the man's infectious (at least to her) friendliness. She spares a look toward Reyce for only a split second at another mention of this sister of his, but quickly after, she answers with, "Nothing of the sort, full, half, fostered or otherwise. As far as my mother goes, anyway." Nothing is said of a father. "Of course, growing up in the Weyr, I had plenty of substitutes." Shoulders lift in a shrug of complacency in the fact of her past.
Reyce leans an elbow on the table, all the better to angle himself for a better way to keep his eyes on both of them. At the question about his own siblings, he snorts. "How high can you count? The Lord of Benden is ever racking it up." He starts to raise his klah mug again, but notices - as it reaches his lips - that there's nothing left in it. Reyce frowns at the mug, blaming it. "Most people stop counting it at twelve, though, which is how many /legitimate/ half-sibs I have." His distaste for the emphasized word is evident.
E'sere ambles in from the frozen bowl, dusting the blown snow from his coat after he shrugs it off. Draping it over his arm as he walks, he heads to the serving table and selects himself a warm meal and a glass of bracing wine against the cool that permeates even the interior of the Weyr. Then, turning, he eyes the crowds speculatively and sets a course through the tables, choosing Issa's out of the pack. "Good evening," he greets the trio there, dipping his head in greating. "Is this seat taken?" He's already hooking a boot behind one leg to tug it out, though he waits on seating himself in it."
Steal! M'eri, fast as can be, steals away Reyce's empty mug and slides gracefully to his feet, querying, "Sweetener or no?" He turns his attention to Issa and gives a faint grin, informing her, playfully, "Ah, but there's no substitute for the scorn of a loving younger sibling." He does comment on Reyce's sibling count as well, contemplating soundly before eventually saying, "At least you have a lot to choose from, should you ever care to get along with any." When E'sere arrives, he glances aside and gives him a casual salute with two fingers, smiling easily, "Hello, E'sere. Go ahead and take it."
Issa sits in a chair facing the table, completely backwards in it and cross-legged, without any indication of how she got that way. Perched on her lap is an older, moldy hide and folded inside of it, a magnifying glass. She looks up and recognizes E'sere as the voice seeking a seat, and adds her quasi-invitation to M'eri's. "Not taken, no." An amused smile returns to her lips, nothing to do with E'sere and everything to do with M'eri's clever grab.
Reyce jerks back as the mug is taken, staring at the place where it was with a comical look of surprise. Where'd it go? Comical does not suit Reyce very well, however, so he quickly turns it into a scowl. For more klah, though ... "Yeah, just a spoon." E'sere gets a glance and a nod, both greeting and permission to take the chair. Reyce himself is sitting on a bench at a nearby table, next to a pile of discarded winter clothes.
"M'eri, Issa," E'sere greets the two riders personally as he arranges plate and glass and finally settles himself into that chair. Issa's positioning in particular is noted, though he keeps silent on that subject. Instead: "Working, this time of night? Or is your reading for pleasure?" he asks her. And, for the holder, a simple, "Sir. Don't let me interrupt you. You were discussing siblings? My commiserations," he notes with a wry smile.
M'eri makes his way over to the meal table, his walk jaunty and probably proud of himself for managing to get Reyce's mug before he could protest. Naturally, he makes the klah to order and soon returns to the table, setting it neatly in front of Reyce only to tumble back into his seat comfortably. He folds his hands loosely around his own mug, puffing dark hair away from his forehead so that it won't fall into his eyes, "Do you have any siblings, E'sere?"
"A little of both," she confides to E'sere, lifting the hides to let the pages flip through her fingers quickly before falling into their same resting place. "Promised my mother I'd help her distinguish the more illegible parts. Something on a disagreement among harpers turns and turns and turns ago." Her eyes lift from the hides again and she furnishes a tight-lipped smile for closure. Silence then follows as she turns to klah, favoring it with cooling puffs before she drinks any, listening to E'sere's answer though she appears inattentive.
Reyce grunts his thanks to M'eri, a bit reluctant, as the klah mug is returned, and pauses to check it before answering E'sere. Not finding any poison, and apparently satisfied with the taste, he says (in a brief evocation of his formal tone from before), "Not at all, Wingleader; I was finished discussing it. My thanks, however." His eyes flick up to E'sere briefly when he speaks, but for the most part he's stealing a glance at Issa.
"I believe," answers E'sere distantly, seeming more focused on his meal than the question, "my father has two or three children with his wife, though I've not met them. Mother, of course, has only myself." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, then glances sideways at Issa himself. "Ah, I see. It sounds... interesting," he comments after a moment, glancing at the hides as she flips through them. "What else are children for, I suppose."
M'eri rests his fist on his chin, thinking things over while his eyes randomly wander along the wall's line where it reaches the ceiling, "Hm. Interesting... we could be lined up by sibling amount. Start with Issa, who has no siblings, to me, who has one sibling, to E'sere, who has a few blood-related siblings, to Reyce, who has more than he wants." He seems satisfied with this lineup, taking a slow drink of his klah and ruffling his bangs away from his face.
"I suppose," Issa mirrors E'sere's words, "it's the least I can do to make sure that she keeps her job." Words are light and delivered while preoccupied with brushing some crumb that's managed to make it's way onto the front page of her small stack. Reyce's attentions aren't noted, or possibly even ignored, as she continues to ask idly, "By the way, have you seen Weyrwoman Diya recently? I've been meaning to speak to her, but keep calling when she's busy." She takes a moment to listen to M'eri's rambling about lining up, offering a puzzled tilt of her head. "Almost as confusing as the bluerider lineup, and possibly just as pointless," she notes amiably.
Reyce just rolls his eyes over to M'eri, listening to his suggestion with disinterest and a shrug. E'sere's answer peaked his interest for a short while, but with Reyce such things are short-lived, and now he's back to poking at his vegetables and eating them. What little remains of his meal has grown cold, by now, but with vegetables these things don't matter. And neither does speech, while he's eating; Reyce just listens and snacks.
"Indeed," E'sere agrees, glancing sideways at Issa with a small grin. "I have not, though, spoken with the Weyrwoman lately. I'm sure her work keeps her very busy these days--I didn't even have the opportunity to speak with her at Turn's End. The bluerider line-up?" He catches the greenrider's last words and quirks a brow, glancing between Issa and M'eri curiously.
"Neither did I," she mentions briefly, with a shrug to dismiss the topic. Apparently it wasn't that important to begin with. More of the ubiquitous klah-sipping occurs before Issa decides to explain. "Mmm," she mumbles before swallowing, waving one hand briefly to convey the insignificance of it all. "It was just how M'eri and I were introduced, is all. He gave me his name so that I could pick him out of a line of blueriders and avoid confusion. And then Reyce got roped into talking to us both, poor thing."
M'eri shrugs helplessly as his lineup is taken with confusion and apparent disinterest, only smiling faintly at the others before he takes a drink of his klah. He just sticks his tongue out at Issa, of course, being formal as he is. Grinning a little afterwards, he seems content to listen to everyone for the most part, though mention of his name and the story from before gets a small nod of his head.
Reyce raises his eyebrows at her description of he was 'roped in,' but he's not one to object. "Sure," he murmurs quietly, looking at E'sere with another shrug. Then he pops another vegetable in his mouth to cover his lack of loquaciousness.
"Ah, I see," agrees E'sere, nodding in answer to Issa. He glances sideways at M'eri to note, "That's our M'eri, I suppose, with a somewhat unique approach to, ah, everything." To put it diplomatically. Politely, he asks then, "How have you been, though?" He glances at each of the three, arching a brow curiously at the lack of talking on two of four's parts.
"Perfectly fine." Issa slips her words before all the rest with a general manner of sweeping out a required response, without much emphasis at all behind them. "Faring better than some after Turn's End."
Reyce just isn't the chatty sort, although he looks quickly at Issa after her last comment. Eyeing her for a second, he says, "Talked to a girl from the infirmary the other day." Drawing in a deep sniff, he turns his face away and scratches absently at stubble on his cheek. "Sounds like Roa's doing all right."
E'sere glances to Reyce, frowning slightly. "Is she? I've set out, several times, to visit myself, but circumstances have conspired against me thus far." He lifts her shoulders after a moment, continuing his meal slowly. "I do believe, though," he adds to Issa in a lighter tone, "I got my surprise in--repeatedly."
Issa nods in agreement with E'sere, "Me too. Can't seem to get in a good visit, no matter how hard I try." Another hint of frustration, reminicent of earlier, crops up, but is quickly abandoned. "I'd noticed that, as well," she comments on surprises, a twist of a grin for the way the night turned out exactly as predicted. But then to Reyce. She turns her eyes, slightly widened, on him, attempting to hold his gaze as she asks, "Any news about the others? I heard several were injured, not just Roa."
"It's what I heard," Reyce answers the wingleader mildly. As for Issa, he lets his gaze be held, for a moment, although its with his chin raised so he can scratch some stubble under there, too. "She mentioned another rider, but I don't know him. Not much information, just that they're both doing fine. Something about shelves, I think." And the moment is gone, as Reyce drops his chin but looks away again with an unhelpful shrug.
E'sere nods slowly, frown returning at Reyce's words. "I see. I had heard as much myself, but. Morelenth and I haven't been able to find out much ourselves--I suspect the people to ask are the guards, but I don't have many... sources among them," admits the rider.
Issa turns to E'sere when Reyce breaks eye contact, drumming the fingers of both hands now on the chair back in front of her. "Guards. Mm, yes, I suppose so." Her mind races through a catalogue of faces as her eyes drift downward to the table, gaze lost in the grain of the wood while her hand sightlessly picks up her mug and manages to bring it to her lips. "I'm afraid I don't either. The one I happen to have met once... he's young, and not likely to know much."
Reyce looks between both of them, squinting curiously. "What, is Roa's dragon not talking or something?" He flips his hand over in a kind of small, preemptive apology for his not knowing how these dragon things work.
E'sere nods once to Issa, though he's concentrating on cutting his meat, always mannerfully. "I've met a few of them on occasion, but not enough to feel comfortable calling in favors," he admits. And, to Reyce: "I'd rather speak to her in purpose, in that case--I've always believed things go better in purpose, rather than relying on the dragons to do all my dirty work for me." A shrug.
"And Oshisyth wouldn't dream of speaking to a queen, even one she knows, if it wasn't important," Issa replies for herself, "And apparently, it's not important." The greenrider stirs, taking up the hides she's folded into a manageable packet before unwinding her legs and standing. "It's to bed with me, boys. Or at least more studying while the klah keeps me up," she says in way of explanation and farewell. "Oh, E'sere. Before I forget..." Issa furnishes a neatly creased hide from a pocket in her jacket, and hands it off to the bronzerider before moving much further. "Wingleader wrote to you. Saw him write it, and it looks like we may be delayed somewhat." A shrug, and she leaves him with the burden of the letter and whatever explanations may be needed for the mysteriousness. "Contact Oshisyth if you need me," she instructs finally, as usual, and then finds he way out into the cold of the bowl.
Issa passes into the tunnel that leads to the bowl.
Issa has left.
Reyce presses his lips together as E'sere explains his reasons - accepting them, apparently, if not quite agreeing. "Sure," he replies mildly. Issa's words, because they quickly become something that seems like none of his business, he allows to flow right past him, though he does nod farewell when she excuses herself for the night. And then sips from his klah, leaving the choice of conversation up to the wingleader.
"Thank you, Issa," E'sere says, accepting the letter and sliding it in the pocket of his own jacket in turn. "I will. Good night," are his parting words to her. Then, turning back to his meal for a few seconds, he eats in silence, finishing his own meal. Cleaning up the mess, he notes to Reyce, "I should be on my way as well. I've a few things to do myself before I turn in for the night. Good night."
Reyce glances up from his drink with a short nod. "Good night," he says. As for himself, he has no intention of leaving - only of gathering up his winter clothes and his klah mug for a move closer to the hearth. Its warmth will be denied him no longer.