[Log] We Don't, We Don't, I'm Not Going
Who: A'son, Carys, Giremi, Tiriana
When: Day 21, Month 4, Turn 14
Where: Workroom, Telgar Weyr
What: A'son stops by to visit his sister, but Tiriana finds him along the way. There are insults, and not all of them come from her.
Workroom, Telgar Weyr
Telgar's workroom is usually aflutter with activity. When the skies are clear of Thread and the main caverns taken care of, many of the residents gather here to work on hobbies and projects of one sort or another. Leather strips hang neatly on pegs along the northern wall, while varying hues of threads in an array of widths dangle beside them. Thin strips of wood are gathered into baskets that line the wall beneath the pegs and, one would assume, are used in making other baskets. The eastern wall boasts a long, if narrow wooden table. Materials and hides litter its top which are likely works in progress left by owners for the now. A small hearth and nearby table complete the room as they occur by the southern-most stone wall. Mugs, cups and small plates claim the table as home while there always seems to be something brewing over the heat. Glowbaskets are scattered about the cavern for use by whomever needs them. They manage to add a warm glow that tends to pervade those who enter here.
Contents:
A'son
Giremi
Obvious exits:
Bowl
A'son pops the buttons open on his jacket, settling it onto the back of the chair. "Oh, I see! I'm glad, I can't wait to see their graduation. I missed seeing her at the hatching, I doubt she'll ever forgive me if I miss her graduating. Little sisters, you know." He snickers and shakes his head. "Oh yeah, I know." His eyes sweep the table for the bottle but he shakes his head. "I'll pass, don't think many Telgari would like me drinking their wine."
"Ahh, yes. Well. I suppose it depends on the sister, but Carys seems the very enthusiastic sort. Nice girl, but ... exuberant." Giremi delivers this summation thoughtfully, rooting around where he saw someone else abandon that wine skin earlier. "Aha. Here it is." He shoots a look over at the bronzerider and shrugs. "Share and share alike?" An attempt at harper neutrality no doubt.
A'son shakes his head again, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, thank you. Really." He states firmly. "Yes, she's enthusiastic. A tough kid really. I've got a couple of sisters but she's really by far the favorite." He glances out towards the exit, foot tapping as if were beginning to get fidgety.
And through that exit comes none other than Tiriana, scowling and banging at the door. "Where the hell is he already?" she complains aloud, glaring around the room. She seems surprised to find Giremi still there, but for once, glaring at the harper takes a backseat to staring at the guest. "You!" she exclaims. "Come to try to get your revenge or something? You do look that dumb." Her mouth curves into a smirk.
Giremi nods once and goes ahead to pour himself a cup of the stuff anyway, said cup coming from a convenient shelf. The harper returns towards the bronzerider setting the wine down where he found it and takes a sip. "Hm. Not the best stuff anyway. You're not missing much." A wry grin accompanies the statement and Giremi's blue gaze settles back on A'son. "Yes. She doesn't seem the sort that'd take much of anything lying down. Your parents must be very proud. Two dragonriders in the family?" Tiriana's banging entranc draws the harper's attention away from A'son and his face gets a pained look briefly, looking back and forth between the two. Under his breath he mutters. "Oh this can't be good," before he blanks his expression out and clears his throat. "I believe we've had words already, Tiriana, about the proper way to greet a guest?"
"My mother talks about us constantly. My father was very proud also." A'son states simply, his smile a shadow. A shadow that runs when Tiriana comes glaring in. "Absolutely. I came here to the workroom to find whatever arts and crafts you work on in your freetime. Maybe you make those little lacey things women make? I was planning on dropping them between. Can you point out what's yours?" He asks, face a picture of seriousness as he turns around to her.
"He's not a guest," Tiriana tells Giremi flatly, though she's not looking at the harper. "That implies we invited him. Or, y'know, wanted him. He's an invader--I know how to greet those." Her sneer only grows at A'son's rejoinder, though. "Do I look like the kind of girl that has anything lace?" she asks, planting one hand on a cocked hip. Of course, she pauses a second later, and amends, "Who /makes/ anything lace?"
"He's my guest." Giremi states blandly, even though the truth of that statement is dicey at best. "And he's also visiting a family-member who is a soon-to-be full rider here. That does not make him an invader." The harper goes on, patiently, pedantically even, then he eyes Tiriana on that last. "Actually --" but he breaks that off before finishing and lifts his hand to cough into his fist.
That stops him. A'son thinks for a moment and then offers up, "Weav-" Giremi's cough gets his attention, the bronzerider lifts one eyebrow all the way up at him. Glance from harper to Telgar resident and then he shakes his head. "Nevermind. At any rate, no I didn't come here to get any sort of revenge on you. I came to visit my sister. Last time I checked there wasn't any proclamation saying I couldn't come to Telgar or that you were part of the guard."
Tiriana swings her head around to glare at Giremi then, for his interruption. "I'm not talking to you," she repeats a familiar refrain. "And you keep your mouth shut about my underwear." Pause. Only too late does Tiriana realize she's the one giving away too much information, and she glowers harder at the harper for that. Huffily, she rounds back on A'son to cover herself. "I don't have to be a guard to take care of my Weyr," she tells him, with a roll of her eyes. "I don't care if she /is/ your sister, go meet her somewhere else on Pern. Neutral ground or whatever they call it. You'll be lucky if half the lower caverns don't mob you on the way out now."
"I believe I just did," points out Giremi placidly. "And somehow I doubt that a Reaches rider is going to get mobbed at Telgar. Maybe the other way around?" He tilts a curious look at A'son for that. "And," lecture mode again, "actually, it's Gay and E'tyn's job and your uncle's and a number of other people's jobs to take care of the Weyr."
"Are the residents of Telgar such desperate, savage brutes that they'd mob a bronzerider who was here to visit his little sister? Look here, kid, I don't care what you think you're doing, but me being here is none of your business. The Weyrs aren't at a war, and I want to see my sister. I'll come here whenever I want and one foul-mouthed youngster isn't going to stop me." Another look is shot to the harper when Tiriana untentionally reveals that bit of information. "There wasn't someone more pleasent for you to have a fling with?" He asks bluntly, surprise clear. After Giremi says his bit, he nods. "Yeah, let your leadership do their job."
Carys comes into the workroom from the bowl.
Carys has arrived.
"There's always /some/ people that'd do it, ones I know," Tiriana answers Giremi and A'son, vaguely. Her shoulders lift, and she slides her arms across her chest. "Don't call me kid. I'm not a kid, I'm seventeen. Nearly." Her cheeks flush slightly as A'son questions Giremi, and she takes a step toward the bronzerider before catching herself, with a deep breath. "None of your business. And none of the leadership is here, are they? And since R'dur's my uncle, think I can step in for him. I mean, it's not like /he's/ going to throw you out."
Giremi's cheeks develop two pink spots at mention of flings. But he squares his shoulders and only offers, quietly at that: "It wasn't a fling." Immediately after he pins his gaze to Tiriana. "No, actually, you can't because you have no standing here at the Weyr Tiriana. Do we /really/ need to revisit etiquette every time you get your dander up about Telgari pride?" The question's largely rhetorical and he's not losing his cool just yet. "No one will be throwing A'son out, unless he decides to do something to insult the Weyr. Visiting his sister, and sharing conversation with the Weyr's Harper do not count as insults to the Weyr."
"Wait so your uncle /wouldn't/ throw me out. Then since you're acting in his stead and /he/ wouldn't throw me out, you're practically stuck with me. Unless you're going against his will, then you're not a real good substitute, are you?" A'son's eyebrows lift up in amusement. He leans back in the chair and stretches out his legs. Not going anywhere, anytime soon. "Nearly seventeen? So sixteen. Sixteen is a kid." There's a shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't came here for you. I came here for Carys. And apparently to talk about little sisters with Giremi."
Carys runs into the work room with a big grin on her face and flushed cheeks from the chilly air outside. She's just about to jump at A'son, but then she stops when she feels some sort of weird vibe coming from the three of them standing there, and she furrows her brows. Tiriana's comments make her straighten up and knit her brows together a little more closely as she folds her arms and bites her bottom lip a touch. "Hey, Tiriana. How 'bout you lay off 'im? He didn't come around here to cause any trouble, I'm sure if he said somethin' that insulted you...or that you /wanted/ to insult you just to give you a reason to get in another fight, he probably didn't mean for it to come out the way it did. I'm gettin' awful tired of you thinkin' you're somethin' special just 'cos you're R'dur's niece." She says that last bit bitterly, and it was probably completely unnecessary for her to jump in. Temper temper. She beams over at Giremi, liking his reaction very much. She hasn't even been here for the whole thing, and s
he still feels like she contributed something useful. Hm.
"It was a--" Tiriana tries to offer her own word for what it was, and stops. "It was nothing," is what she decides on. "And R'dur'd /want/ to but he doesn't have the--" She breaks off as Carys enters behind her, and the older girl scowls as she looks around. "Got to have a kid stand up for you?" she drawls to the Reachian, lip curling as she studies the bluerider. Those claims, about her specialness or lack thereof--those go unanswered.
Okay, that stung, but Giremi's only reaction is a slight compression of his mouth into a thin line. "I'll have to disagree with you on your uncle's take, Tiriana. I seriously doubt he'd actually want to prevent a rider from visiting family, regardless of his or her provenance." Ooooh. Big words. The harper's eyes fasten on Carys and he clears his throat, likely suddenly keenly aware of how much of a powder-keg situation this might be. "Good evening, Carys. I hear that the Weyrlings got weyrs this week? Perhaps A'son would like to see yours?" Hint hint. And then he turns a tight smile on Tiriana. "And you and I have an appointment with the Weyrwoman."
"Whatever, it was apparently something if neither of you wants to comment on it. And kid? You're the one that lost out, I'm gonna guess. Giremi seems like a stand-up guy." A'son makes an 'adults know everything' type of face. "Bottom line, you can't do anything to me but spit words." He smirks broadly at her before the sound of Carys reaches his ears. The bronzerider practically hops to his feet, lounging and resisdent annoying aside for now. Carys is small and quick, likely, so if she moves she can get out of his way. But it would seem that he's going for one of those bear-hugging off the ground types of hugs. "Hey, I told you I was going to visit eventually!"
Carys glares over at Tiriana, wrinkling her nose a bit in disgust. "He doesn't need me to stand up for him at all, you worthless wherry. I just gotta make it clear that I don't like you, never will, since I have to deal with you more often than he does," she says, hot, and jerking a thumb back at her brother. "Plus, you're not a whole lot older than I am. So shut your shardin' trap and go make yourself useful." Then she puts on a friendly face for Giremi once she flicks her gaze over at him, and nods. "Yes we did! I'm sure A'son would like that. Right?" She looks over at her brother with an expression that demands the right answer. Then she gets scooped up and she submits to a giggling frenzy. "Yep, you did!" Then she reaches up to flick his nose. "Took you long enough, though! I'm practically /done/ with weyrlinghood now. You keep me waiting that long again I'll take a finger."
"We don't, we don't, I'm not going," Tiriana answers Giremi quickly, nearly stumbling over her words as she tries to get them out so fast. She's shaking her head and taking a step back from them as she speaks. "I was just--playing. It's nothing." The last word trails into a question, her brows arching as she looks to the harper. "You tell him," this to A'son, as though he'll defend her. "Please." Carys is ignored, though there's a very deliberate sniff on Tiriana's part for the bluerider's insults.
Giremi clears his throat. "Carys. You need to mind your manners just as much as Tiriana. Put a lid on the insults please, or we'll be having a conversation with the Weyrlingmaster. Please, why don't the two of you just enjoy your visit, hm?" Oh he's trying, he sure is, in his fusty harpery way. " The subject of his relationship with Tiriana is glossed over entirely, not brought up again by the harper. Instead he fixes Tiriana with another meaningful look. "Oh? I should think perhaps, an apology might be in order, or we'll definitely have to keep that appointment." Somewhere in there, there was a funny little look of gratitude towards A'son at calling him a 'keeper', but it's not the harper's focus just now.
Carys throws a hand up. "Go ahead and tell X'ndar. Punishment doesn't bother me if I know I'm doin' the right thing." As if insults are the right thing to be doing in a situation like this. Stubborn thinker, she. Then she moves to take A'son's hand in a death-grip, waiting for the possible apology before dragging him out.
A'son deposits Carys back down on the ground again. "I swear that I'll be there for the graduation! I'll get a great present, maybe, hopefully. I'll try. You'll know there was effort put in." His annoyance from earlier seems to have disappeared. It's almost as if he's forgotten that Tiriana is there. Until she's talking to him again. His lips press into a firm line and he's looking between the harper and resident again. There's a moments pause before he states, "We were just playing. Tiriana and I do this all the time, it's how we are." It's a blatent lie, and one can tell by the tinge of distast that colors his whole expression while he speaks. But he still says it. "Yeah, lets go Carys. Show me your new weyr that I heard you got!'
Jaw clenched, Tiriana looks at Giremi, her shoulders stiff. As A'son starts to leave, she glances at him, with a twitch at one corner of her mouth for his lying, however unconvincing. "Er. I'm... sorry," she adds, grudgingly, but with plain relief, too.
Carys almost apologises to Tiriana, but then decides against it, using her departing brother as an excuse.
Carys leaves the workroom and heads out into the bowl.
Carys has left.
Visible relief edges onto Giremi's face too and he nods, actually looking, oddly, proud of Tiriana, though he shoots A'son a look filled with rampant disblief. "All right then, let's all just go on and have a nice evening." So saying, he turns to pick up his finished pipe from the table, letting A'son and Carys precede him out.
Tiriana lingers last, glaring as hatefully as she can after not the brother and sister, but the harper. She makes sure she's well behind him in leaving herself, and heads the opposite way.