[Log] Diplomacy Done Wrong
Who: Giremi, Jolak, M'rit (NPC), R'dur, Tiriana
When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 13
Where: Bowl, Telgar Weyr; Bowl, High Reaches Weyr; Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
What: Tiriana and Giremi are on a diplomatic mission. It starts... not so diplomatically.
Central Bowl, Telgar Weyr
A stony field is the center of this great caldera, the size of which is unmatched at any other Weyr--for the whole complement of all the wings at Telgar could rest comfortably within its towering cliffs. Shaped in a perfect oval, the rock walls seem ideal for keeping the usual chill winds stirring about. The ground is mostly made of pebbles and rocks, some hued the milky shades of old quartz, though there are patches where softer dirt and even trees sprout up from the ground. To the south, the bowl opens onto the living caverns and the Weyrleaders' quarters; the immense entrance to the Hatching Grounds lies to the northwest. Heading southwest will lead one back out into the rocky mountain ranges around Telgar's protective walls. Dragons may be seen, relaxing or fresh from feeding, to the north, as well as the soft lapping sounds of Telgar's lake touching the sandy shore. The Weyrling Barracks, always aflutter with activity, are to the direct west. If you're looking for the 'dutypair' to take you to an outweyr destination, they can be found here. The training grounds and the meadow are both covered with a blanket of pure white snow, though it is trodden down in dragon-wide paths where the dragons move.
Contents:
Giremi
Spineth
Obvious exits:
Weyrling Barracks Southern Bowl Lake Shore Hatching Cavern Feeding Grounds Runner Pasture Weyr Entrance
Fussing over his bag, his scarf, his jacket, Giremi stands in the Bowl at the side of a bluerider who waits, mostly patiently. The harper also has his gitar slung across his back and he looks around the Bowl every now and then for his traveling companion.
Harried by R'dur, Tiriana is not making good progress across the bowl after Alidaeth drops the pair off. The brownrider has one bag slung across his own shoulders, while Tiriana is towing another along with her. The longsuffering girl bears her uncle's handwringing and nervous last-minute double-checks in stoic fashion as she heads over to Giremi and dumps her bag unceremoniously. R'dur sets his down more carefully. "So you'll--you won't get in any fights, please, Tiri? Or be disrespectful, or drunk, or... or... You'll be good? Be careful? You'll be back soon? Be careful. I love you. Let me know if you need anything. Be careful, please. Good-bye," says R'dur, while Tiriana tries to get him to move along. With a worried, pointed look for Giremi, the brownrider finally lets himself get shoved off toward his own dragon, where he takes up hovering there, too. Tiriana looks to Giremi herself finally, to demand, "Well, what're we waiting on?"
Giremi smoothes down the front of his jacket and inclines his head politely towards R'dur. "Everything will be all right, sir. I'll keep an eye on her." Oh like /that/ will do any good. The harper bends and lifts Tiriana's bag, passing it to the bluerider. "Thank you kindly for your assistance this evening M'rit." The bluerider nods a couple of times, removes the straw he's chewing on from his mouth for a few seconds to utter a monosyllabic: "Sure". Giremi gets his own bag fixed in place then bows politely for Tiriana to go first. "I'd offer you a hand up Tiri, but I'm sure you don't need it."
"No," Tiriana tells Giremi, with a snort as she pulls herself up onto the blue easily, settling herself behind his rider. "This is gonna be fun," she remarks once she's there, glancing down as she waits for Giremi to join them. "Don't worry, I won't let 'em try to take advantage of Telgar or anything."
Giremi climbs aboard silently, sliding in behind Tiriana and clipping into the straps. "All set M'rit." The harper leans forward a little bit. "We're there to review research and make a show of good faith, not defend Telgar's honor, Tiri." Meanwhile M'rit has sent blue Jurith up into the sky and Giremi is knocked back by the steep angle of the dragon's takeoff. "Between." Another monosyllable from the bluerider and then ... they're blinking out.
"Yeah, sure," Tiriana agrees mostly for the sake of agreeing, just before they go /between/ to their destination.
Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters.
The afternoon is clear and the sun shines brightly. There seems to be a light breeze and the fall air temperature feels comfortable.
Obvious exits:
Weyrleader Ledges Dragon Infirmary Weyrling Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore Western Bowl
Jurith pops out of Between and cruises downward landing rockily in Reaches' Bowl. Giremi gets jostled around and promptly starts getting out of the safety straps once the blue hits the ground. He sees to his gitar first, leaving Tiriana to fend for herself with getting down. "Thank you again M'rit, see you in a few days." Two words this time: "No problem." Remi looks up and around the familiar Bowl and takes a deep breath of the chilly air. "Home again home again ..."
"Gee, he's talkative," Tiriana observes as she hops down the blue's side herself and gives his rider an unimpressed look as M'rit and Jurith leave. Then, well--then it's time to give Giremi his own sideways look, the girl's lip curling slightly at his words. "It smells funny," she observes. "And it's just... ugly. How long are we staying again?" She doesn't make it five minutes before starting the grumbling.
"Mm. But he was willing enough to take us." Giremi resettles his gitar and his bag at his side. The harper shoots Tiriana a return sidelong look. "Well if you hate it you can always go home whenever you want. Just write R'dur a note and I'm sure he'll come right away. Or I can politely ask my mother to convey you." He smiles over at the girl then and nods towards the living caverns. "Living cavern is this way ..."
"And let you screw this up?" Tiriana sounds more outraged at that suggestion, folding her arms over her chest for all of one moment before she realizes she best pick up at least one of her bags to follow. "Ahem," she says noisily as she stands by the other--the bigger and heavier one she conned R'dur into carrying for her the first time. "Could use some help here. Do we get a room, at least? I want my own room. They should treat us good considering what we're doing here."
Giremi doesn't grace that first remark with a reply, just resettles his gitar and then eyes her bag. "Tiri, if you don't need any help up and down off a dragon, or any of the other standard courtesies, you can handle your own bag. As for a room, yes, I imagine so, if there's one available." That's said over his shoulder towards the girl.
Tiriana glowers at Giremi's back. "Jerk," she tells him. "Just like the rest of your family." Sniffing superiorly, she does snatch up her second bag, though, throwing it over her shoulder with less trouble than her behavior might lead one to suspect. "Fine, let's go," she tells him then, as she sets off after him.
Giremi tilts another look over his shoulder at Tiriana. "You keep telling me you can handle yourself Tiri and don't want my help. So here I am, not helping. Next time, ask me nicely." He sounds unperturbed as he walks on, gitar thumping his back lightly.
Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Bundles of autumn foliage in brilliant reds and oranges mixed with sprigs of crimson berries have been thrust into the baskets on the wall. Pickling spices and the tang of smoking meat fill the air. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. Small groups gather here and there in the cavern, relaxing over a snack of freshly baked goodies as they cheerfully gossip.
Contents:
Giremi
Jemah
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns
After depositing all their stuff in their rooms, Tiriana and Giremi make their way back up to the living cavern for dinner. Of course, with that strict no helping rule of Giremi's, Tiriana is doing her level best not to speak to him at all by the time they get there and she can head up to the serving tables to complain--not to him, of course--"Their food looks nasty. Telgar's is better." This is, of course, not earning her any friendly looks from those around to hear.
Giremi follows after and takes up a plate, piling a little bit of this and that neatly onto it. He nods to a few familiar faces. "Hey there Aldina. How've you been? Everything looks just as I remember it. Yes it's good to be back home even if for a short while." He nods towards his ruder companion. "This is Tiriana, daughter of Ierne's Weyrleader." Peacemaking?
Jolak strolls into the cavern from the lower caverns.
Jolak has arrived.
Jolak
Shaggy ruffian sandy blonde hair, piercing deep ocean blue eyes, and a smile that carries a gap in the front teeth mark this cheeky youngster's first impression. His further appearances consist of ears that somewhat stick out too far from his skull and a nose that is sharp pointed with future markings for a long straight bridge. Along his wide cheek bone structure are a few freckles dotted here and there, quite obvious against the light paler skin of a lad who lives in a northern climate. Lips are thinly drawn against his face, though his chin is already beginning to extend outward and develop a strong defined point. His body seems to be as confused as a boy going through the first stages of puberty, limbs perhaps not as proportioned as they should be, making him take on a lanky awkward stance. The top of his head doesn't yet clip five feet six inches, but he's getting there, with large feet to show the promises his future height will be.
Currently he's wearing a dirty crimson tunic over a thick sleeved brown looking sweater. The tunic stretches passed his waist and is clamped there with a plain looking belt, scuffed many times with use. His trousers are a little bagger than desired by the weavers, though they give him plenty of room for movement, and yet come with the risk of tripping over them. His feet are covered in thick soled working boots, tough as nails and layered on the inside with fur to help endure the climate.
"Telgar's Weyrsecond. His niece," Tiriana adds, for once as intent on getting that connection known as the one with her father. She sniffs as she takes a fair-sized plate of food, though, and informs Giremi, "I'm going to sit down. You just... Well, don't mind me or anything. I don't need your /help/ to meet people."
Jogging up from the lower caverns, Jolak makes a sliding entrance as he passes into the living caverns, the slide due to the immediate halt he had to make to avoid a kitchen worker with several platters in her hands. He gets a look from the gal but nothing more. A bead of sweat is swept off his brow as the young man takes only an instant to gain his barrings before making a march toward the food.
"Reaches' duties to Ierne, Telgar and the Hall ..." Aldina gets that mouthful out and smiles up at Giremi then gives Tiriana a quizzical look. With his food secured, Giremi pads after Tiriana. "Of course not, but I wouldn't insult you by forgetting to provide an introduction. Wouldn't suit your station in life." At the table, Giremi pulls a chair out for Tiriana and gives her a brow-arched look that is interrupted momentarily by Jolak's slide inward.
"Forget hitting some dumb Reachian," Tiriana tells Giremi flatly. "I'm gonna hit you if you keep it up." Huffing, she does seat herself in the chair he pulls out for her, though, as she sets her plate down in front of her. Jolak's entrance earns a look from her as well as she adds flatly to Giremi once more, "I can introduce myself. Don't need you doing it for me. You make everything so difficult."
Jolak gathers up his now heaping plate and beverage mug; that is filled to the brim, in consequence making him walk stiff and slow. A few times the liquid sloshes over his hand and dribbles down his arm and onto his pant leg, but he doesn't stop, making it look easy to weave and turn to find a place among the tables to eat. A while later, luck has it that the lad finds a chair open beside Tiriana and Giremi.
Giremi pages to Jolak and Tiriana: Sorry about that - client got paused for some reason. Posing.
"Go right ahead, I'm used to it." Giremi's blase about Tiriana's usual threat, eating neatly from his plate. "It's proper manners, Tiri. I didn't make up the rules of etiquette." He smiles over at her briefly then looks up as Jolak joins them. "Good evening, Telgar's duties to the Reaches."
Tiriana stabs her vegetables rather more viciously than probably warranted, taking out latent irritation on them rather than Giremi. She doesn't answer him for the moment, though as Jolak comes to join them, the girl eyes the newcomer up and down, rather appraising. Then: "Hey," she offers him. "Telgar's duties, yeah. 'M Tiriana." See, she can be polite. Sometimes.
Now that's when Jolak nearly spits out his food from his mouth, his eyes bulging a little at the greeting before he has to pound down the food he was about to half spit half choke on with a swig of his drink. Shuddering due to the mixture that the liquid and food made in his mouth, he squints over at the Telgar folks. He recovers quickly enough, responding with a sharp, "Duties to your Weyr," having to take another drink to wash out his taste buds. With ears turning a shade red he flashes them a quick gap-toothed smile to further recover from his startlement, "Sorry," he offers, "I was really focused there," he points his fork at his plate, trying to make some excuse for his shock, mouth thinning as he continues, "Food's really good on an empty stomach and after a long days work. I'm Jolak."
Giremi squints at Jolak a little bit more closely. "You look familiar, Jolak, though your name doesn't ring a bell. I'm Giremi, Weyrharper at Telgar, but I grew up here." He overs a hand over to the Reachian. "And the cooking is as good as I remember it and very welcome after a long day. You okay there?" He casts Tiriana another smile, this one quite bright, approval for the good manners.
"It's not that great," says Tiriana, who is making quite of bit of headway through her plate nevermind what she says. "Been feeding yourself long?" This, in answer to Jolak's near-brush with choking, as Tiriana's brows arch skeptically. "And I don't think we need you telling us that, anyway. Can figure it out ourselves. Think we're dumb just 'cause we're Telgari or something?" She wastes no time in putting him on the spot, leaning forward slightly in interest.
"It's possible to look a little familiar. Carys is a sister of mine, and she just impressed up at Telgar there," he adds with another quick sip of his drink, reaching over toward Giremi to shake the other's hand, "And you'd know A'son I'm sure, if you've been here long." The shake is quick, firm and short lived as Tiriana abruptly insults him. He tries to ignore her for a moment to carry an easy conversation with Giremi, responding to the man, "I'm fine. And the food is great, especially when we don't have to cook it," an implication given to the woman mostly, carried with that disapproving glint in his eyes. The young man abruptly turns to the challenge that Tiriana gives him, his brows lifting, "You must be the rude girl I was told about, or are all Telgari girls so hostile?"
Briefly, Giremi's hand tightens on his fork as Tiriana switches back to being insulting. "Really Tiri, I'm sure it has nothing to do with that. Jolak is just trying to be polite." The harper's brows fly upward at Jolak's explanation about resemblance. "Oh! Well, yes of course, I recall A'son and I've met Carys several times at Telgar of course. Congratulations by the way, on the Impressions of both brother and sister." He clears his throat lightly as Jolak meets Tiri's challenge. "Technically I'm not supposed to provide introductions, but this is Tiriana, Jolak, the Weyrsecond's niece and daughter of Ierne's Weyrleader. We've come to speak with Reaches' harper about some matters relating to Records and of course, pay our respects at the Weyr.'
"Carys? A'son? I know them!" Tiriana says, blinking. "How many of you /are/ there? Carys is... annoying, but--that stupid A'son crashed our party, just waltzed right in. /I'm/ not rude--least, I don't start it. Mostly." Pause. "I'm just back-up for when somebody decides he needs the crap beat out of him. Can't take care of himself," she tacks on her own mission statement to Giremi's, smirking.
"So it was you," he says with a little coldness behind his words as he regards Tiriana, eyes flickering back over toward Giremi then, "Well thanks, I guess. But they did it on their own merits, I'm just glad they are happy and have found their dragons." He peers back toward Tiriana, having the sense enough not to turn his back on her - for some reason. The young lad takes a moment before he looks at Tiriana right in the eye, "At least A'son and Carys don't have to rely on their sire's merits to make themselves look better - or repeatedly through that fact in other people's faces. People who probably could careless any how." He peers back at Giremi, "I'm surprised a harper would be encouraging such boasts..." he shakes his head as he sits back.
Giremi's head dips a little, polite acknowledgement of Jolak's remark to him. "Certainly, but the family must be proud of that accomplishment?" Polite chit chat. His further question hikes Giremi's brows upwards. "It's good manners to introduce someone properly," the harper points out, lifting his fork to get another bite of food. "As for whether or not I require Tiriana's assistance in self-defense, the truth of that is patently obvious so I don't see much point to addressing it at all, actually." Giremi's voice is neutral through all that, one side of his mouth quirking up a little bit. "However, I will correct the faulty assumption that A'son crashed any parties. All of the families of the Candidates were /invited/ to the Hatching feast."
"I can back 'em up myself," Tiriana says, glowering at Jolak now. Her meal's half-forgetten in the meantime. "Anyway, it's /polite/. And--yeah, sure, /technically/ they were invited," she drawls in answer to Giremi. "But you'd think people from the Reaches would've been smart enough to stay away."
Jolak tilts his head at Giremi's response, his own voice turning a little bland now, "Yes, while I agree that it's polite to introduce someone, I don't think you should introduce her as a Weyrleader's daughter, just because that merit and rank doesn't belong to her. It only makes it seem like she's got more weight and is more important because of a rank that isn't really her's - you know? But then again, I believe on personal intrinsic worth than selling yourself as someone's son or daughter." His eyes flashing again toward Tiriana, "And you'd think Telgari's would have enough sense to stay away too..."
"Tiri - remember what we're here for." Giremi's voice is suddenly far from bland and he shoots the girl a look. "It's how it's taught," the harper says with a shrug. "Formal introductions are always about rank. For instance, if Tiriana had done me the same favor, it'd be most polite to include my rank as a Journeyman at the Hall even though you can see that from my knot and perhaps even my parentage." He taps his fork lightly against his plate, chasing at a stray pea. "There's no cause for any fighting between Weyrs. We're here to compare notes with Reaches' Harper and see if we can't sort out how this whole problem with Crom came about and how it can be solved."
Tiriana rolls her eyes. "You ever notice how the only people that ever complain are the ones who can't claim anything better for themselves?" she asks Giremi, though she's still looking at Jolak as she says it.. Then: "I know, I know. It's a diplomatic mission. But sometimes you just gotta cut through all the pretty talk and say it. You aren't going to get /anywhere/ with this the way you do it."
Jolak sighs and picks up his fork, taking another fork full to settle his grumbling stomach, eyes wary of the girl more than the harper. A breather later after the food goes down he shrugs, "If that's the case, then I apologize. It just seems like a tongue full to me," he mutters quietly, sipping on his drink. He eventually shrugs at Giremi, "I hope you can compare notes quick before we're frozen out of Reaches this winter --" he shuts his jaw before he adds anything about the coal tithe, instead he pushes around a orange root, adding slowly, "There's a few harpers here already, likely you'll find them in the records room. I'd ask the headwoman first though, she knows where to find people at." He suddenly laughs at Tiriana, a sharp graiting laugh, "I'm young enough that I can make it on my own. I'm strong enough to make it on my own, have enough courage to! But I forgive you then, because you are a girl."
Giremi looks down at his plate at Jolak's abruptly ended sentence. "Milani ... my little sister she told me about the coal." The harper looks pensive and his fork continues to make circles with the peas around his plate. "I hope this can get sorted out quickly too, Jolak. For the good of both Weyrs." He looks up and over at Tiriana again. "We haven't even been to see Journeyman Ywain Tiriana and picking a fight with a resident isn't going to get us anywhere either." Calmly logical, he stops pushing his food around and reaches for his glass instead, taking a few sips of the water within. Suddenly he shoots Jolak a warning look, eyes widening as the young man makes that girl remark. The harper gets the distinct look of someone having second, third and fourth thoughts about having brought Tiriana along.
"That's it," Tiriana says, moving to push her chair back at once, hands balling. Giremi, his cautioning words--those are ignored quite entirely as she gets to her feet. "You think I can't take care of myself because I'm a /girl/? Let's go, then--see how brave you are."
"Milani," he snaps his fingers, "I should've known!" he peers long at Giremi, "when she was talking about her brother. I didn't realize," afterwards he adds, "I work with her sometimes, being in the stores as well." That statement also leads to him having the same knowledge Milani would about the stock of coal. He feels a little abashed as he adds quietly, "It isn't right, the Weyrs should be together." The warning look from the harper is taken into consideration, his eyes down at his plate as he pokes around the food there. When the chair scrapes against the floor and he sees the balled fists out of the corner of his eye, his heart catches onto a fast beat, his senses heightened as the challenge finds his chest tightening. Yet, oddly enough he keeps his cool as he lifts his chin, his eyes on her, "Well no, I didn't say that - not exactly at any rate..." Scrubbing his hand through his hair he stands and puts his hands up, taking a deep breath, "Look, I'm not going to fight you. That'd only add to the bigger problem between our Weyrs. I apologize that we got off on the wrong foot. But you shouldn't be so abrasive to others when you're not even in your own Weyr. You've no leverage here to push others around. So don't get so hot headed when someone actually stands up for themselves against your insults. Why should I take it when you're calling me dumb, for starters? I'm sorry that I had to get you riled up, but I just thought it might prove to show you how hypocritical you are, insulting people and then when you get insulted back being unable to handle it..." He shrugs then, thinking the matter done.
Giremi facepalms at Jolak's response to Tiriana but he also rises and lays a hand on the girl's arm. "Absolutely not Tiri. No fighting. It's part of the rules for any diplomatic mission and I trusted you to stick to them when I said you could come with me. No fighting." He's deadly serious about this one. He nods Jolak's way afterwards. "Yes, Milani's my little sister. Well ... not so little anymore. And you're /absolutely/ right about the Weyrs needing to be together and that's part of what we're here to ensure." That seems to be added more for Tiriana's benefit than anyone else's.
"Coward," Tiriana notes, quite smugly. "And who are you to lecture me. I should just hit you for that." Though stiff, she doesn't, though, likely because of Giremi's hand on her. "It's not my fault," she grumbles to the harper, pulling away from him as she sits back down. "He called me a girl! I mean, you know. Insulted me 'cause I am. That is too what you meant," she sniffs at Jolak, ruffled feathers soothing at least a little as she tries to relax.
"There you go again--" he lifts his hand up, rolling his eyes, "thick skull I think behind those blues eyes.." he sighs, "well, whatever. Once you're done here all this will be moot--" he implies the conversation between them, "because next time I'll not waste my time listening to a girl who thinks she's tough s**t when she's really a foolish little child in adult clothing." He picks up his plate then, "I'm sorry Giremi. I had not intended to meet Milani's brother in this ... way. I hope it will not reflect poorly on me, and if it does, I hope to have another opportunity to remedy it." He nods his head at the harper, taking his things and going off to sit some where else.
"Actually, I think Jolak handled that /very/ well," notes Giremi, nodding over to the young man. "For most situations. Sure you don't have aspirations to being a Harper?" He smiles over at the young man and taking a deep relieved breath at Tiriana's backing down, regains his seat as well. "You always have a choice about what you decide to do Tiri. The world's not black and white." Jolak's further words bring out a pained look, but he nods. "Of course Jolak," he half-rises as the resident excuses himself. "I'll look forward to speaking with you further in the future."
"Can I hit him now?" Tiriana asks plaintively, hands forming into fists again though she stays seated this time. She does not tell him goodbye, merely folds her arms stiffly over her chest and busies herself sulking. "Why'd you have to stop me for? Faranth you're no fun at all. He insulted me! And yes it is." Her brows knit when he tells her the world isn't black and white, a hint of surprised confusion entering her voice.
Jolak gives a shrug at Giremi, "I've toyed with the idea..." he admits quickly, flashing Giremi an apologetic smile before heading to the other side of the cavern - where enjoyable company sits.
"No you may not." Giremi sets his fork down firmly and looks over at Tiriana with a determined look. "This isn't about fun Tiri. I told you that before we came. I'm trusting you here, going out on a limb when a lot of really important things are hanging in the balance. If you cause an incident here, it could make things a lot worse, not just for the Reaches but for Telgar too." His voice lowers a little, though anyone seated close enough could make out the words. "Please try to think outside of the usual boundaries while we're here, okay? I know you can do it when you put your mind to it. You're no dummy." He sits back in his chair a little, plastering on a pleasant smile for another passing remembered acquaintance, nodding until the man has passed. "No, it's not. Every insult doesn't have to be solved with fists and fury and every heated word doesn't have to be taken as an insult in the first place. Think about it."
"I'm not stupid," Tiriana agrees sulkily. "I didn't hit him, did I? I should have. He was lippy." She scowls and shoves the remains of her dinner away irritably, shaking her head. Another glower at Jolak and his new company ensues. "I dunno any other way to do it."
"No you didn't and that showed some good self-restraint. Punching isn't the only solution to lippy. I mean, you can always use words too to change things around when you're talking." Giremi reaches for his mostly empty plate and Tiri's less than empty one. "All finished with this? I'll clear and see if I can find us something good to drink?"
"Doesn't work," Tiriana says, shaking her head firmly again. "Yeah, I'm through. Something good sounds... good. I'm... not so good at all those snappy putdowns and stuff," she at least knows that weakness. "You know, the ones that just kind of crush people and make them back down. Daddy can do it sometimes, when he wants to, but..." Shrug.
Giremi piles up the plates and lifts them in both hands, standing beside Tiriana's chair in the angle that his pushed back one makes with hers. "It's something that can be learned. They actually teach some of that at the Hall if you can believe it." He hesitates for a moment and then clears his throat. "Want to try to learn?" He doesn't voice it as offering to help.
Tiriana eyes Giremi warily for several seconds before asking, "What do I have to do? Not say anything?"
Giremi looks down at Tiriana seriously. "No, learn to take a breath before you speak or hit and pick different words. It's like ... a knack in your head. There's a trick to it. The Masters that teach it have all sorts of interesting games they use for that. 'Course ... I'm not really an expert," he admits with a slight roll of one shoulder. "I was more interested in archiving. But I got the basics."
Tiriana does not look at all thrilled about that suggestion. "Sounds boring, too. Anyway, hitting works fine. Really," she protests, trying to sound very firm about it. "When I do it, anyway, because I know how to do that. So you just stick with your little games, and I'll... do my way."
A light shrug shifts Giremi's shoulders. "Hm. Well, keep the hitting inside your head at least for the duration of this trip, please. Because it won't help anything on this mission." So saying, the harper steps away to get rid of the plates and root around in the offered drinks of the evening. Ultimately he can only come up with wine or hard cider and opts for the latter, bringing back two mugs to where Tiriana sits. "Here you go. It's not whiskey but it has a little kick to it."
Tiriana makes a noncommittal noise, and offers a thanks when Giremi returns with the drinks. She's content to mostly drink it in silence, though, for once unusually quiet until they finally head off to beds.
The harper, perhaps wisely, lets Tiriana have her silence and for once, she's ahead of him in retreating to head to bed. Giremi lingers, making the rounds in the living cavern, catching up with old friends and ultimately, heading up to his parents' weyr for a long talk.