[Log] Disappointments
Who: Tiriana, T'rev, Virgil
When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 16
Where: Storerooms, Telgar Weyr
What: Tiriana clashes with Virgil and T'rev.
Storerooms, Telgar Weyr
You are in a huge, irregularly shaped cavern with an extremely high ceiling that serves as the unloading area for all of Telgar's supplies. To the northwest is a set of double doors, large enough for a tithe wagon to pass through from the Weyr's main entrance. Entries to all the storage rooms lie off this cavern; doorways marked 'Root' Cellar, 'Textile' Storage, 'Cold' storage and 'Dry' storage are the most frequented. Weyrfolk bustle about this area, unloading tithe trains, sorting goods, and taking care of all the business involved in communicating with the outside world. Platforms of varying sizes are scattered about, wagons and carts of all sizes are unloaded here. A narrow tunnel also leads southeast to the kitchen.
Many people bustle in and out of the caverns at all times, day and night.
Contents:
T'rev
Virgil
Obvious exits:
Weyr Entrance Kitchen
There aren't very many places within the Weyr to go if you want some quiet time. Especially when you're a weyrling and the barracks are getting more and more crowded by the day with the dragons getting bigger. The weather outside is frightful, too, so the gardens, her usual go-to, is out of the question. Virgil, then, has tucked herself away in the vastness of the storerooms, where it's warm with her blanket and she has a little spread next to her: cheese, bread, juice.
Footsteps approach from the main door and the sound of that door shutting behind T'rev echoes through the Store Room. He whistles jauntily, something typically bawdy as he walks and pauses along one row of shelves not too far from Gil's cozy spot. The bronzerider hunkers down and rummages in a basket, pulling it off the shelf a little, but not all the way. "C'mon, gotta be in here ... gloves ...gloves ... gloves ..."
Is it any wonder the loudest bangs and scrapes in the storerooms are followed by the appearance of Tiriana? She's slightly dusty and breathing heavy, like she's been dragging around something real heavy, but with a cat-ate-the-canary smirk as she dusts her hands off and rounds the corner, finding herself nearly face to face with T'rev with a start. Hastily, she backpedals away from the crouching rider, one hand reaching out to catch the shelf next to her. "You're in the way," she says, automatically.
So much for quiet. Not that Virgil has anything to say against having visitors -- if she wanted to be truly alone she'd have picked another spot -- but there's a certain droop to her shoulders when T'rev approaches. Likely she'd be as enthused to see /anyone/ about now. She's almost there with a bit of cheese, her hand poised near her mouth, when the bronzerider crouches and starts muttering. "You're in the wrong one, here." She reaches over with her other hand, shows him another basket and smiles. And then there's Tiriana, too, and she leans forward a little to check the other weyrling. "Storerooms are for everyone," she singsongs, amused.
Wham bam, thank you ladies, T'rev gets hit with two statements at once. "Huh? Oh!" Gil first gets a smile and then Tiriana's peremptory statement turns his head the other way and takes a breath, looks up and up at the other weyrling. "Plenty of room t'get around me, lookin' for gloves in th'wrong place," he notes and shoves that basket back in, grins over at Gil again. "Thanks, did they move 'em around or something?" Another back and forth look between the two and he shakes his head. "One of you's been gettin' too much exercise, th'other's chillin' out, seriously, X'ndar just ain't keepin' y'all busy enough," he joshes.
"I wanted to walk /there/." It's hard to imagine a more childish statement, even from Tiriana, but at least even she doesn't sound /really/ serious about it. A couple of seconds of glowering at T'rev ensue, before, "I have not. I haven't been doing anything." Now that /is/ sharp, her mouth setting into a frown as she folds her arms over her chest. She just snorts at Virgil, trying very hard not to deign to reply. It's not quite one of Iovniath's icy silences, but Tiriana tries, at least.
"Stop acting like that." Yes. That's coming from Virgil who, after noting all of Tiriana's mannerisms, has pretty much had enough for now. "T'rev got here first." Her tone is about as matter of fact as a tone can get and her expression is really quite solemn. Poor bronzerider, but who really could have guessed they'd be walking into something like this? Apparently she's in a mood, and it might just be her first. She says, quickly, "Get your gloves," to him and finally eats that cheese. And then, because apparently it won't be quiet time afterall, she starts gathering everything together to wrap up in a square of cloth.
Again, T'rev does the head swivel between the two of them. He's still chipper and calm in the face of Tiriana's childishness. "Well I'll be done in a minute," he notes placidly and then blinks at Virgil with some surprise. "You guys okay?" he asks tentatively after a moment and shifts over to the right basket, sorting through pairs of gloves and holding them up to his hands to check size.
"/I'm/ fine," says Tiriana for once, eyeing T'rev and then Virgil. She raises a brow at the younger girl. "Why wouldn't I be fine, except some little... whatever, is trying to tell me what to do." Sniff. As Virgil packs up to leave, she just rolls her eyes. "What, running away already?"
"Nothing wrong with wishing someone soon to be partly in charge of running the Weyr had any kind of likeable quality," Virgil replies, without looking at either of them. She's just gathering little things, la dee da. Once everything's sorted she ties corners off into a tidy little knot and folds her blanket into a nice square and sets the two together so that when she rises she can bring them with her. Once standing, she looks up at Tiriana very steadily and adds, "Or cared about anything but herself." No matter the other girl has age and height to her advantage, the little bluerider remains undaunted.
Straightening, T'rev stuffs a pair of almost garishly red gloves into his pocket and folds his arms across his chest. "Tiriana - do me a favor, stop being insulting. Hasn't Gay taught you anything about taking care of the Weyr and making sure everyone's getting along yet?" Brows lift a little and then he's peeking back over at Gil. "Though y'know, ruffling her up don't help much neither. Still he nods towards the things the blueriding Weyrling has in her hands. Need a hand with any of that?"
Hotly, Tiriana retorts, "I don't have to be likeable to be in charge. I just have to be... in charge. Which I am!" She continues to bristle, all the more so at T'rev's words; she rounds on him, too, with a sharp, "And please. Like I need /you/ telling me how to act, either. This is between us, anyway, so you can--" What he can do with it will possibly remain forever unknown, however, as Virgil's last gibe sinks in and has Tiriana rounding back on her, even taking a couple of stiff steps toward Virgil. "You don't even know me, don't tell me what I don't care about, either," she snaps, glaring.
That Tiriana advances doesn't help. Virgil doesn't flee or retreat more than a scant tilting down of her chin that gives her a new angle with which to regard the hot-tempered girl. Mildly she says, "You're the biggest disappointment I've ever known." And, with that same calmness, she turns to T'rev and smiles a little, "No, thanks. I've got it. Maybe I'll see you around. Siraqueth needs oiling." With that, and without looking at the goldrider when she steps around her to leave, she makes her exit, her little bundle held close.
Virgil has left.
"Y'need to at least be polite, Tiriana, else ain't no one gonna respect you, ever. And that means that half th'time they'll ignore what you tell 'em t'do. Ain't enough to just have a position. Trust me on that one," T'rev states, unfazed. "A for what's goin' on here, I ain't got no idea. I just came down for a pair o' gloves since my other ones sprung a hole and th'aunties didn't think it worth darnin'." His head bobs as Gil steps around and out. "Okay, Gil. Luck with that," he says and then fixes Tiriana with a long look.
Tiriana snorts. "They don't have to like me, they just have to... be scared of me. I don't care about making friends with any of them," she says defiantly. "And if people don't respect you, well. It's because really. What are /you/ going to do to them?" She's openly disdainful of T'rev's punshiment capabilities, glancing him up and down. As for the latter? She ignores his look, but does stare after Virgil as the other girl leaves. Somewhere between hopping mad and genuinely hurt, she declares, "She's going to be the first one I exile."
"Didn't say they have to /like/ you, they have to /respect/ you and bein' scared ain't respect," T'rev continues, still looking at the dark-haired goldrider. "D'you really wanna go through th'rest of your life like this? Mostly alone, mostly with people ignorin' you not because they're scared, but because they just can't stand t'be around you?" The bronze looks over at her with honest concern. "Seriously, I wouldn't wish that on m'worst enemy and that sure as hell ain't you." His shoulders shift upward lightly. "Just ask any of my wingriders, m'record speaks for itself," the bronzerider continues calmly. Brown eyes follow the path of Tiriana's eyes and his brows furrow a little. "Y'don't mean that, you're just mad," he finally states and jams his hands into his pockets. "Keep up with this kinda talk, n' runnin' roughshod over everyone and don't be surprised if /you/ wind up bein' sent off for a bit t'cool your heels, though."
"I don't mind it," Tiriana sniffs, scuffing her feet. "I'm used to it. Anyway, I can make them listen. I can." Of Virgil, though, she stubbornly shakes her had. "I am not. Well, I am mad, but I'm serious, too. And Gay already said, when I first impressed and all, she couldn't throw me out now. She wouldn't. /We're/ friends," the girl insists. And sulkily, "Don't know why everybody keeps expecting me to be different now, anyway. Like Iovniath is suddenly going to make me into--into /that/?" She gestures back after Virgil with a disgusted scrunch of her face.
"Okay then," T'rev pulls his hands out of his pockets, lifts them and lets them drop. "And no, you can't. There's gonna be plenty of people you're not going to be able t'shift just by bein' uppity at 'em. Iovniath might be able t'order Mecaith around, but unless we're in an emergency situation, unless your orders make sense t'me? I ain't followin', because who the hell knows if anything you're sayin' has anything t'do with what's actually goin' on or some whim that just ran through your head. Y'see? Ain't no trust there that y'know what you're doin' and th'way you treat people, they ain't got any reason t'try to think beyond that." He looks over at her a little sorrowfully of all things. "Would've liked t'be your friend, told you not that long ago, miss how things were before we both Impressed. And people're expectin' you to behave like a weyrwoman 'stead of a spoilt brat s'what. It's a hard thing bein' a goldrider. Even I get that. Toughest job on th'planet maybe, 'specially in an Interval when it's all 'bout figurin' out how t'keep th'Weyr fed n' clothed with Holds not wantin' t'tithe so much anymore." He pauses for a breath and runs a hand distractedly through his hair before going on. "Don't mean you gotta be Gil, Tiriana, but maybe y'know, find someplace in between sunshine n' light which ain't you atall, and bully, which is what you're actin' like most of th'time. Shells, woman, you're better'n that, y'know? Better'n a bully if y'wanna be."
"That's not who I am," Tiriana answers flatly. "And I don't want to be that, either, so just... I don't need another lecture." She turns away then, arms still folded, as she moves to brush past T'rev toward the door herself. "I don't know where you get off acting like you know what I am or could be or anything like that. You don't know me, either. I'm happy the way I am, so just... stay out of it." Not that she looks real happy at present, scowling and pouting.
"No, it ain't who you are. But it's how you act, it's all people /see/ Tiriana. I got a glimpse, when we were younger, of someone else. I dunno where she went, that girl. Even when you were threatnin' t'hit people back then, it mostly just seemed like th'kind of thing a kid would do. Y'ain't no kid anymore, you're a young woman n' one of Telgar's weyrwomen. I'd rather look up t'you with respect, maybe even some fondness." He props his hands on her hips watching her go. "I ain't gonna stay out of it. Too late for that. Brought me into it by gettin' in Gil's face in front of me. That and I'm one of your people and a wingleader and it's m'duty s'far as I'm concerned t'make sure things're goin' right with folks as is possibly going t'be my wingriders. So if I see you screwin' up, I'm gonna tell you. Better t'know before it trips you up and lands you flat on your face. Wouldn't say a damn thing if I didn't care, Tiriana." He waits a few moments longer as she stalks off, still seemingly calm.
"Oh, please." Tiriana turns back at that, with her most disdainful roll of eyes as she levels a flat look at T'rev. "They all say that, and it's not true. You don't go around trying to fix the people you care about--you like them the way they are. So don't give me /that/ line. It's like parents aaaalways say it's going to hurt them more'n you, and that one never worked on me, either. --And maybe they oughta let me hit more people, you want /that/ girl back!"
Something she just said hits home, but T'rev's a good enough poker player that the signs of it are slight, just the faintest hint of tension in his shoulders, a tightening at the corners of his eyes. Otherwise he continues to regard Tiriana steadily. "And sometimes, y'warn th'people that y'care about that they're about to step into a pile of shit. Which is where you're headed if y'keep on like y'are, Tiriana and don't pretend like y'don't know it." The last brings out a bark of laughter. "I already offered and you flipped out when I defended. Go ahead though, sock me one in the jaw if it'll let some of that whatever that's makin' you so wound up out." And he stuffs his hands back in his pockets, eyes her meaningfully.
It's not an offer that improves Tiriana's humor any. Her own mouth tightens and she retorts, "Iovniath won't let me." And with that parting shot, she turns and resumes her stalking out.
Oddly, that parting shot pulls a grin up onto T'rev's face. He only nods as Tiriana stalks out through the door. "See you around, Tiriana," is his own last, seemingly sunny as ever. It's not until she's through that door and he's counted to three that T'rev lets out a 'Guh!" of frustration and shakes a fist at the ceiling, then moves on out of the stores himself.
When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 16
Where: Storerooms, Telgar Weyr
What: Tiriana clashes with Virgil and T'rev.
Storerooms, Telgar Weyr
You are in a huge, irregularly shaped cavern with an extremely high ceiling that serves as the unloading area for all of Telgar's supplies. To the northwest is a set of double doors, large enough for a tithe wagon to pass through from the Weyr's main entrance. Entries to all the storage rooms lie off this cavern; doorways marked 'Root' Cellar, 'Textile' Storage, 'Cold' storage and 'Dry' storage are the most frequented. Weyrfolk bustle about this area, unloading tithe trains, sorting goods, and taking care of all the business involved in communicating with the outside world. Platforms of varying sizes are scattered about, wagons and carts of all sizes are unloaded here. A narrow tunnel also leads southeast to the kitchen.
Many people bustle in and out of the caverns at all times, day and night.
Contents:
T'rev
Virgil
Obvious exits:
Weyr Entrance Kitchen
There aren't very many places within the Weyr to go if you want some quiet time. Especially when you're a weyrling and the barracks are getting more and more crowded by the day with the dragons getting bigger. The weather outside is frightful, too, so the gardens, her usual go-to, is out of the question. Virgil, then, has tucked herself away in the vastness of the storerooms, where it's warm with her blanket and she has a little spread next to her: cheese, bread, juice.
Footsteps approach from the main door and the sound of that door shutting behind T'rev echoes through the Store Room. He whistles jauntily, something typically bawdy as he walks and pauses along one row of shelves not too far from Gil's cozy spot. The bronzerider hunkers down and rummages in a basket, pulling it off the shelf a little, but not all the way. "C'mon, gotta be in here ... gloves ...gloves ... gloves ..."
Is it any wonder the loudest bangs and scrapes in the storerooms are followed by the appearance of Tiriana? She's slightly dusty and breathing heavy, like she's been dragging around something real heavy, but with a cat-ate-the-canary smirk as she dusts her hands off and rounds the corner, finding herself nearly face to face with T'rev with a start. Hastily, she backpedals away from the crouching rider, one hand reaching out to catch the shelf next to her. "You're in the way," she says, automatically.
So much for quiet. Not that Virgil has anything to say against having visitors -- if she wanted to be truly alone she'd have picked another spot -- but there's a certain droop to her shoulders when T'rev approaches. Likely she'd be as enthused to see /anyone/ about now. She's almost there with a bit of cheese, her hand poised near her mouth, when the bronzerider crouches and starts muttering. "You're in the wrong one, here." She reaches over with her other hand, shows him another basket and smiles. And then there's Tiriana, too, and she leans forward a little to check the other weyrling. "Storerooms are for everyone," she singsongs, amused.
Wham bam, thank you ladies, T'rev gets hit with two statements at once. "Huh? Oh!" Gil first gets a smile and then Tiriana's peremptory statement turns his head the other way and takes a breath, looks up and up at the other weyrling. "Plenty of room t'get around me, lookin' for gloves in th'wrong place," he notes and shoves that basket back in, grins over at Gil again. "Thanks, did they move 'em around or something?" Another back and forth look between the two and he shakes his head. "One of you's been gettin' too much exercise, th'other's chillin' out, seriously, X'ndar just ain't keepin' y'all busy enough," he joshes.
"I wanted to walk /there/." It's hard to imagine a more childish statement, even from Tiriana, but at least even she doesn't sound /really/ serious about it. A couple of seconds of glowering at T'rev ensue, before, "I have not. I haven't been doing anything." Now that /is/ sharp, her mouth setting into a frown as she folds her arms over her chest. She just snorts at Virgil, trying very hard not to deign to reply. It's not quite one of Iovniath's icy silences, but Tiriana tries, at least.
"Stop acting like that." Yes. That's coming from Virgil who, after noting all of Tiriana's mannerisms, has pretty much had enough for now. "T'rev got here first." Her tone is about as matter of fact as a tone can get and her expression is really quite solemn. Poor bronzerider, but who really could have guessed they'd be walking into something like this? Apparently she's in a mood, and it might just be her first. She says, quickly, "Get your gloves," to him and finally eats that cheese. And then, because apparently it won't be quiet time afterall, she starts gathering everything together to wrap up in a square of cloth.
Again, T'rev does the head swivel between the two of them. He's still chipper and calm in the face of Tiriana's childishness. "Well I'll be done in a minute," he notes placidly and then blinks at Virgil with some surprise. "You guys okay?" he asks tentatively after a moment and shifts over to the right basket, sorting through pairs of gloves and holding them up to his hands to check size.
"/I'm/ fine," says Tiriana for once, eyeing T'rev and then Virgil. She raises a brow at the younger girl. "Why wouldn't I be fine, except some little... whatever, is trying to tell me what to do." Sniff. As Virgil packs up to leave, she just rolls her eyes. "What, running away already?"
"Nothing wrong with wishing someone soon to be partly in charge of running the Weyr had any kind of likeable quality," Virgil replies, without looking at either of them. She's just gathering little things, la dee da. Once everything's sorted she ties corners off into a tidy little knot and folds her blanket into a nice square and sets the two together so that when she rises she can bring them with her. Once standing, she looks up at Tiriana very steadily and adds, "Or cared about anything but herself." No matter the other girl has age and height to her advantage, the little bluerider remains undaunted.
Straightening, T'rev stuffs a pair of almost garishly red gloves into his pocket and folds his arms across his chest. "Tiriana - do me a favor, stop being insulting. Hasn't Gay taught you anything about taking care of the Weyr and making sure everyone's getting along yet?" Brows lift a little and then he's peeking back over at Gil. "Though y'know, ruffling her up don't help much neither. Still he nods towards the things the blueriding Weyrling has in her hands. Need a hand with any of that?"
Hotly, Tiriana retorts, "I don't have to be likeable to be in charge. I just have to be... in charge. Which I am!" She continues to bristle, all the more so at T'rev's words; she rounds on him, too, with a sharp, "And please. Like I need /you/ telling me how to act, either. This is between us, anyway, so you can--" What he can do with it will possibly remain forever unknown, however, as Virgil's last gibe sinks in and has Tiriana rounding back on her, even taking a couple of stiff steps toward Virgil. "You don't even know me, don't tell me what I don't care about, either," she snaps, glaring.
That Tiriana advances doesn't help. Virgil doesn't flee or retreat more than a scant tilting down of her chin that gives her a new angle with which to regard the hot-tempered girl. Mildly she says, "You're the biggest disappointment I've ever known." And, with that same calmness, she turns to T'rev and smiles a little, "No, thanks. I've got it. Maybe I'll see you around. Siraqueth needs oiling." With that, and without looking at the goldrider when she steps around her to leave, she makes her exit, her little bundle held close.
Virgil has left.
"Y'need to at least be polite, Tiriana, else ain't no one gonna respect you, ever. And that means that half th'time they'll ignore what you tell 'em t'do. Ain't enough to just have a position. Trust me on that one," T'rev states, unfazed. "A for what's goin' on here, I ain't got no idea. I just came down for a pair o' gloves since my other ones sprung a hole and th'aunties didn't think it worth darnin'." His head bobs as Gil steps around and out. "Okay, Gil. Luck with that," he says and then fixes Tiriana with a long look.
Tiriana snorts. "They don't have to like me, they just have to... be scared of me. I don't care about making friends with any of them," she says defiantly. "And if people don't respect you, well. It's because really. What are /you/ going to do to them?" She's openly disdainful of T'rev's punshiment capabilities, glancing him up and down. As for the latter? She ignores his look, but does stare after Virgil as the other girl leaves. Somewhere between hopping mad and genuinely hurt, she declares, "She's going to be the first one I exile."
"Didn't say they have to /like/ you, they have to /respect/ you and bein' scared ain't respect," T'rev continues, still looking at the dark-haired goldrider. "D'you really wanna go through th'rest of your life like this? Mostly alone, mostly with people ignorin' you not because they're scared, but because they just can't stand t'be around you?" The bronze looks over at her with honest concern. "Seriously, I wouldn't wish that on m'worst enemy and that sure as hell ain't you." His shoulders shift upward lightly. "Just ask any of my wingriders, m'record speaks for itself," the bronzerider continues calmly. Brown eyes follow the path of Tiriana's eyes and his brows furrow a little. "Y'don't mean that, you're just mad," he finally states and jams his hands into his pockets. "Keep up with this kinda talk, n' runnin' roughshod over everyone and don't be surprised if /you/ wind up bein' sent off for a bit t'cool your heels, though."
"I don't mind it," Tiriana sniffs, scuffing her feet. "I'm used to it. Anyway, I can make them listen. I can." Of Virgil, though, she stubbornly shakes her had. "I am not. Well, I am mad, but I'm serious, too. And Gay already said, when I first impressed and all, she couldn't throw me out now. She wouldn't. /We're/ friends," the girl insists. And sulkily, "Don't know why everybody keeps expecting me to be different now, anyway. Like Iovniath is suddenly going to make me into--into /that/?" She gestures back after Virgil with a disgusted scrunch of her face.
"Okay then," T'rev pulls his hands out of his pockets, lifts them and lets them drop. "And no, you can't. There's gonna be plenty of people you're not going to be able t'shift just by bein' uppity at 'em. Iovniath might be able t'order Mecaith around, but unless we're in an emergency situation, unless your orders make sense t'me? I ain't followin', because who the hell knows if anything you're sayin' has anything t'do with what's actually goin' on or some whim that just ran through your head. Y'see? Ain't no trust there that y'know what you're doin' and th'way you treat people, they ain't got any reason t'try to think beyond that." He looks over at her a little sorrowfully of all things. "Would've liked t'be your friend, told you not that long ago, miss how things were before we both Impressed. And people're expectin' you to behave like a weyrwoman 'stead of a spoilt brat s'what. It's a hard thing bein' a goldrider. Even I get that. Toughest job on th'planet maybe, 'specially in an Interval when it's all 'bout figurin' out how t'keep th'Weyr fed n' clothed with Holds not wantin' t'tithe so much anymore." He pauses for a breath and runs a hand distractedly through his hair before going on. "Don't mean you gotta be Gil, Tiriana, but maybe y'know, find someplace in between sunshine n' light which ain't you atall, and bully, which is what you're actin' like most of th'time. Shells, woman, you're better'n that, y'know? Better'n a bully if y'wanna be."
"That's not who I am," Tiriana answers flatly. "And I don't want to be that, either, so just... I don't need another lecture." She turns away then, arms still folded, as she moves to brush past T'rev toward the door herself. "I don't know where you get off acting like you know what I am or could be or anything like that. You don't know me, either. I'm happy the way I am, so just... stay out of it." Not that she looks real happy at present, scowling and pouting.
"No, it ain't who you are. But it's how you act, it's all people /see/ Tiriana. I got a glimpse, when we were younger, of someone else. I dunno where she went, that girl. Even when you were threatnin' t'hit people back then, it mostly just seemed like th'kind of thing a kid would do. Y'ain't no kid anymore, you're a young woman n' one of Telgar's weyrwomen. I'd rather look up t'you with respect, maybe even some fondness." He props his hands on her hips watching her go. "I ain't gonna stay out of it. Too late for that. Brought me into it by gettin' in Gil's face in front of me. That and I'm one of your people and a wingleader and it's m'duty s'far as I'm concerned t'make sure things're goin' right with folks as is possibly going t'be my wingriders. So if I see you screwin' up, I'm gonna tell you. Better t'know before it trips you up and lands you flat on your face. Wouldn't say a damn thing if I didn't care, Tiriana." He waits a few moments longer as she stalks off, still seemingly calm.
"Oh, please." Tiriana turns back at that, with her most disdainful roll of eyes as she levels a flat look at T'rev. "They all say that, and it's not true. You don't go around trying to fix the people you care about--you like them the way they are. So don't give me /that/ line. It's like parents aaaalways say it's going to hurt them more'n you, and that one never worked on me, either. --And maybe they oughta let me hit more people, you want /that/ girl back!"
Something she just said hits home, but T'rev's a good enough poker player that the signs of it are slight, just the faintest hint of tension in his shoulders, a tightening at the corners of his eyes. Otherwise he continues to regard Tiriana steadily. "And sometimes, y'warn th'people that y'care about that they're about to step into a pile of shit. Which is where you're headed if y'keep on like y'are, Tiriana and don't pretend like y'don't know it." The last brings out a bark of laughter. "I already offered and you flipped out when I defended. Go ahead though, sock me one in the jaw if it'll let some of that whatever that's makin' you so wound up out." And he stuffs his hands back in his pockets, eyes her meaningfully.
It's not an offer that improves Tiriana's humor any. Her own mouth tightens and she retorts, "Iovniath won't let me." And with that parting shot, she turns and resumes her stalking out.
Oddly, that parting shot pulls a grin up onto T'rev's face. He only nods as Tiriana stalks out through the door. "See you around, Tiriana," is his own last, seemingly sunny as ever. It's not until she's through that door and he's counted to three that T'rev lets out a 'Guh!" of frustration and shakes a fist at the ceiling, then moves on out of the stores himself.