[Log] Little Sister
Who: S'r, Zhadaere
When: Day 13, Month 13, Turn 2669
Where: Staff Quarters, Igen Weyr
What: S'r has a request for Zhadaere.
Staff Quarters *Igen Weyr*
The Weyr's Headwoman, Steward, and their assistants share this suite with two bedrooms and a larger room with desks and enough supplies for the staff's daily operations. There're desks, some shared by assistants working different shifts, as well as a larger table for meetings.
Contents:
S'r
Obvious exits:
Out
S'r
A young man, slowly entering adulthood, S'r has the thin and short build of a teenager just past the end of a growth spurt. Not tall enough to be considered lanky, nor so thin as to look frail, the bronzerider doesn't usually get much initial attention with a mostly quiet and often unnoticed presence. His voice isn't as deep as it should be, considering that he's now way past puberty, and his tone is usually soft, not helping him stand out very well. At times, however, it will acquire quite an edge of sarcasm or criticism that carries enough disrespect for two.
Being at Igen, S'r's wardrobe consists almost entirely of loose pants, and a majority of long-sleeved tunics, protecting his skin from Rukbat's scorching ways in the desert. On rare occasions, he may show up with a more formal attire, usually seeming uncomfortable.
Where the tunic and pants end, a mild tan has tinted his skin, though it still has a tendency to turn a bit red during the Turn's sunniest days . His face is still the youngest of his features, some whispy, light brown hair bordering on red in sunlight is cut short, leaving his lighter-than-the-average-Igenite skin unchallenged. Pale brown eyes sit above a thin nose, high cheekbones touched by a freckle or two. Under thin red lips, his chin is square, saving him from what would otherwise be a somewhat effeminate appearance.
Around his neck, one will always find a necklace made of wood with each piece bound to the next by small circular hooks. The only other adornment on his shoulder is his knot, a thread of bronze and the loops identifying him as Igen's Weyrleader.
It's growing late in the evening, but Zhadaere is still at her desk, working away on a few papers before turning to file them away. A couple of other assistants are on their way out, gossiping happily, but Zhadaere only gives their backs an unpleasant frown as they vanish out the doorway, herself continuing her methodical work.
There's a knock on the door frame as S'r allows the leaving assistants to go, just exchanging nods. He stands just in the door, waiting for Zhae to acknowledge him, hands loosely tossed into his pockets, with no hint of formality in the way he's presenting himself. He clears his throat softly, just in case the knock hadn't been heard.
Zhadaere's eyes cut upward at the knock, lips pursing; however, she turns right back to her work, continuing it until the bronzerider clears his throat. Then, setting down her pen, she gives the man an expectant look. "Can I help you?" No title.
"Yeah, actually." S'r answers, ambling into the room, looking around idly, discovering the quarters for the first time. His eyes are still wandering around as he begins to talk, "You might've heard that one of my sisters is at Igen at the moment. So far, she's staying in my care-" He turns and stops in front of her desk, looking down at the assistant. "If she stays, she'll need to find an occupation to earn her keep, obviously. I'd appreciate if you could find her something to do."
"No, I hadn't, actually," admits Zhadaere, still frowning as she folds her arms and regards the man. "I'm over here," she adds, noting his wandering gaze. "Your sister, though. What's her name? Does she have any useful skills, or does she rely on dumb luck to make her position?" Her smile is saccharine.
S'r laughs softly, shaking his head, "I doubt I've got any more respect for the way we get picked than you do." he points out before going back to the actual topic: "She's a decent seamstress, but she's been one for a long while and it's starting to bore her. I'm sure she has other skills, though, and I know she'll at least learn something about discipline and quality working under you." he tells her without malice or sarcasm.
Zhadaere's brows knit at S'r's latter words, smile tight. "Uh-huh, sure," she agrees, plainly not quite believing. "Anyway. A seamstress. Well, if she can do something else, I can see what I can do; otherwise..." Pause. "I suppose she's just the type that relies on Big Brother to find her a place, hmm?"
"I want her to work with you. If I let her pick who she works with or what she does, that may not happen." S'r states flatly, eyes narrowing somewhat. "All she's asked /me/ to do is not to send her home back to our parents, and I'll comply with that only because I don't see a /need/ for her to go back. I do, however-" he emphasizes, "see a need for her to work with someone reliable and with good work ethics."
Zhadaere nods slowly, thoughtful rather than disdainful. "So she doesn't have a good work ethic, and you're hoping I'll rub off," she decides. "Worried the slackers of the Weyr will be a bad influence? Whatever possessed you to let her come here if you're so worried about her?" The pretense of work is abandoned, the assistant cleaning up her desk for the evening.
"My sister was ten when I was Searched. I don't /know/ what her work ethics are." S'r counters, watching Zhae for a brief moment. "I'm not worried about her causing problems. However, if by any chance, she /is/ a problem, I know I can at least trust you to let me know without trying to brown-nose your way to a higher rank or earn favors."
Zhadaere smirks, nodding once more. "Fine. I'll take care of her. Don't worry your little head about it. What's her name? Send her my way tomorrow morning and I'll see about getting her settled," she agrees.
"For the moment she's staying in my weyr. She.." S'r shrugs, shaking his head and chuckling. "She ran off with some boy, and he left her standing at a hold while he.. ran off with some other girl or whatever. Anyway." There's a very palpable amount of fondness in the man's voice, "I'm giving her two days off so she can stop crying about it. After that, she'll be yours." He leans forward, placing his palms on her desk, and looking down towards her. "I do have one other request."
Zhadaere's brows arch, and she snorts in disgust. "Predictably," she comments on that particular situation. "Now what?"
"Whatever beef you may have with my weyrmate, my daughter, or myself, I expect you to set aside when dealing with my sister." S'r says, looking at the assistant intently, voice lowering slightly and each word spoken carefully. "I expect that you do her no favors. I also expect that you do her no disfavors." he goes on, "And if she /ever/ brings my rank into a situation regarding her, I /demand/ that you put her in her place. Understood?"
A slow, not-entirely-nice smile spreads across Zhadaere's lips at that. "Oh, yes, sir," she drawls. "It'll be my pleasure."
S'r chuckles softly, "I figured it would." he quips, shaking his head, standing straighter again. "Am I holding you back from ending your day?" he asks, glancing around the empty office.
Zhadaere glances around herself, frowning again. "I was just finishing up some things," she admits. "I'm really pretty much done, though."
"How do you feel about your position?" S'r queries, "About your situation at the Weyr, as well?" he tacks on, hands coming back to his pockets, idly biting his lip while he waits for the woman's answer.
Zhadaere's brows arch, and she leans back in her chair to frown at the man. "My situation?" she repeats slowly. "It suffices, for now. Why do you ask?"
"Well, you're technically not precisely under my 'domain', in the Weyr's organisational chart-" S'r begins, "but as far as purpose serves, you are one of my subordinates. I intend to get to know most of them as well as I can." He grins, "Including you. I'm sorry."
"So'm I," answers Zhadaere dryly. "What would you have me tell you, then, Weyrleader?" The emphasis on the title is deliberately mocking, one brow quirking in question.
"Are you satisfied, dissatisfied? Have enough staff? Enough supplies?" S'r lists off, shrugging while he thinks of more questions, "Interested in gaining rank? Not interested? What you'd rather be doing? What you'd change?" he finishes, "Anything, really."
"I'm... reasonably satisfied. The staff does well--when they work--and we've enough supplies to manage," Zhadaere answers warily. "As for my advancement, I think you know me well enough to know I'm interested, of course. However, unless you're looking to replace the Headwoman already..." A shrug.
"I want my Weyr to run as well as possible. That means I need everyone as effective as they can be." S'r tells Zhae, "/That/, in turn, means I need to know what they want, regardless of whether I can give it to them right now." he explains, "Am I looking to replace our Headwoman?" he asks, answering the question himself: "No. Am I looking for someone with the skills in the event that I do need to? Always." He fixes his gaze on the woman, "I may be wearing this knot 'by accident', Zhadaere, but I'm not going to lead a Weyr 'by accident'."
Zhadaere nods again at that, lips pursing. "Very well," she agrees. "Does that answer your questions, then?"
S'r smiles, rather genuinely at that. "Yes, in fact, it does, and I do thank you." he tells her, "For the answers and for your time, both." he adds, "I'll let you finish your day. I'll introduce you to Lira in the next couple of days." He's already turned his shoulders towards the exit, only looking at Zhae to see if she has anything more to add.
"Yes, sir," answers Zhadaere, a little less mocking this time as she turns back to finish cleaning up her desk before slipping out as well.