Roulette.
Who: Roa, R'vain, Tavaly
Where: Weyrleaders' Office, HRW
When: Afternoon, day 25, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass (5.7.2007-5.8.2007)
What: Making good on their arrangement, Tav and R'vain enter into palaver with Roa. Many things are discussed. Including cow-throwing.
It's the hours between lunch and dinner and the Weyrleaders' office currently has one small, pop-bellied, darkhaired occupant seated at the table. Roa is reading over the top of a thick stack of hides, nibbling her bottom lip and occasionally jotting this or that down. The afternoon is sunny and quiet, and one leather-gloved and oft-punching greenrider is expected soon.
Ruvoth commands, from his ledge above the bowl floor, a clear view of individuals going up the steps to the weyr office or onto the ledges of the queens below. This priority view is not quite as good overall as that afforded by some of the highest weyrs farther out in the bowl, but its convenience can't be denied: there remains only one way for most people to come into the Weyrleaders' quarters, through the council room, and most company is thus immediately anticipated. It may be for this reason that R'vain's bootheels thump heavily down the steps from his weyr just now. Or it may be that he's just coming down to wait. His pace is slower than usual; he brings with him a binder of hides, and has it open to read from it as he comes down the stairs.
Ruvoth will see first the approach of green wings, spread wide in the autumn air, drawn slowly higher and whipped lower to gain the small altitude she needs before landing where necessary. A croon and an unbuckling later, and the green waits, her rider dismounted and already walking toward the small stair that will lead her quickest to where she has to go. Her leathers look neater and cleaner today than usual. Even some consideration has been taken with the braid at her neck. Curled into a bun and speared with a single metal stick, it seems great care has been taken with her appearance. Today, of all days. Down the stairs she steps, first seeing the red man with his book. No smile. A clearing of the throat and two brows scooting upward as if to say, 'Well?' and she waits, a foot or two from where he stands.
But it's Roa that gets the first word, and that word is "Come" followed shortly by "in" and "Tavaly." She nudged the hidework away and gestures for the greenrider to take a seat on the otehr side of the tabel. "R'vain says you offered to be the Weyr's messenger to Five Mines."
R'vain halts at the foot of his stair, just before Tavaly on her way in, and raises his head a little so his gaze can come up from the text he's reading, through ruddy lashes at the greenrider there: 'Well?' right back. Only once she goes past him does he split a bit of a grin, and /that/ he tries to ease away before he faces Roa and the table and follows on toward it. "Get you klah if you want it," he rumbles, folding the binder closed in the curve of one enormous paw, heading for the pot and cups and tray.
Turning her head, Tavaly spies the little Weyrwoman behind the desk and nods her head. Once. Slowly. Then fixes her feet and sets them to carry her foreward. She finds the chair and steps around it. Sitting, then crossing the right over its left-side counterpart. "He says true." She confirms. "I have." At mention of klah, Tav merely turns her head to look at the fellow. No answer from her on that subject. Yet.
There is a small nod in return from the weyrwoman. "Help yourself," she agrees about the klah but then, more to the point, "What made you decide to do that?"
R'vain has nothing better to do that put down his binder with a thump on the table and overturn a mug for himself, then pour; he has furthermore not much better to do than turn over another mug and pour for Tavaly, too. Presumably. He watches the women a little, but does not offer another interruption so far.
Pale blue eyes study the face across from her, and Tav offers a small grin. "Heard mention that you needed one. Thought about it. Figured I'd offer my best. Know deep down that I can do for you what you need done. Quick. Efficient. Hush hush, otherwise. Got the means to do it on my own, need be. Low enough on the totem pole that I won't turn many heads on my way to and from." She explains. Then takes a moment to study the desk's top. A small nod to herself and then, "And I want to do it."
"It's fairly likely that AIvey is there, and I'm nearly certain E'sere is," Roa notes as her hands clasp on the table. "It could be argued that in some ways, sending you there puts you at a higher risk than some others. What are your thoughts on that?"
There's a little twitch under R'vain's eyes at Aivey's name, and a curl in his upper lip on E'sere's; the latter seems to soothe the former, though, and he buries both with a sip of the klah before shoving Tavaly's mug over toward her along with the milk and sweetener.
"Thought about that, too." Tav says, her expression a definite show of 'I kinda figured that was going to come up'. "Way I see it, unless you have specific need of getting information to /them/, my dealings with the majority of the exiles will be kept to a minimum. I don't have any desire to poke my nose where it don' belong. E'sere, I don't think, is any problem to me. While he turned out t'be a not-so-good fella, he never seemed to have personal quarrel with me. Aivey.. well, last time she hid in the dark and threw cows at me. Iffin' they have cattle, I doubt whoever she follows would take too kind to her spookin' the cattle into a riot. So." A small shrug. "Not worried about her. Aware of, but not worried. 'Sides, she aires on the side of cowardice. If I keep alert an' keep Immath lookin' every which way, there's no chance she'll get anything accomplished." The greenrider leans back in the chair, arms crossing over her chest. A small nod. "Possibly a higher risk, but I know what to expect better'n other folk. Know how to handle m'self and how t'get the Shardin' fuck out of there in a hurry if things go southerly."
At the mention of flung cows, Roa bites her bottom lip and glances downwards. This is meant to be a serious meeting, after all. After a few momnets and the clearing of her throat, the weyrwoman tries again. "No giving any information to anybody there. The less they know about High Reaches and the people within, the more comfortable I am."
R'vain is not so careful as Roa. He grins openly at the remark about the cows-- but when Tavaly claims Immath is a match for the chaotic assassin, his brows draw a little and staying serious becomes less of a challenge. He slips around behind the Weyrwoman and draws back a chair beside her, finally ending his looming over the table and the women seated there by sinking into a chair with his cup. "Speed ain't first here, Tavaly. Security is."
There is a nod for the Weyrwoman's words. A slow, purposeful one. "My feelings exactly. Last thing I want is to have this place crawlin' with unsavory type folk. They'll know nothing about the 'Reaches they don't already know." The greenrider states, even going so far as to thump her gloved fist against her chest briefly. To R'vain, she nods again. "That I understand. And I can assure the both of you that it is very near the top of my list of things to be painfully sure about."
Roa turns her gaze briefly from Tavaly and up and over to R'vain. "I want something in place. Some plan. In case Immath isn't quite as good a defense as we hope." She looks back, frowning a little bit. "They have a queen," she adds unhappily. "And that means, if they wish it, they can keep Immath from serving as extra eyes and ears."
"Not t'mention keep her from serving as your defense," R'vain tacks on; though the look he exchanged with Roa was done over the rim of his raised mug, he seems educated enough as to the drive of her argument. "You need t'not get t'where you need her. It's a peace mission first, Tavaly. They have t'know that from every step you take."
"Nenuith." Tav says softly, one foot coming up to rest on the edge of the seat, her arms circling around the leg. "I remember." And she is quiet, eyes atop her knee while R'vain adds. "While.. a good part of me believes that Diya wouldn't play such a part, I do understand. There is that possibility." To R'vain, Tav's pale blues skirt and she nods. "I like the open just fine. Don't intend to get boxed in, or anyplace someone could get b'hind me." And then a pause. And then a nod. "Understood. Don't want to cause a raucous anyhow. Do what I have to, polite like, how's you're uncle, fancy party, see y'all later. Tea party peaceful."
The weyrwoman draws in a slow and careful breath. She studies Tavaly for a beat longer and then peers up and over at the weyrleader again. Puffing out a soft sigh she asks the greenrider, "When's your next rest day?"
R'vain meets Roa's gaze over his upraised mug with an expression of grim indifference; only when she asks Tavaly that question does he have to actually use the klah for the purpose of shielding a grin. The look he gives the greenrider then is significant if brief-- there's a little gemstone glint in it, speculative but approving.
"Three-cee's not scheduled to fly this next 'fall. Got the Weyrlings in the afternoon tomorrow. Next day I had set aside for leather projects, but those can wait, dependin' on how quick you want things to start movin'. Thirtieth ought to be best." Is the answer Tavaly supplies the Weyrwoman. A glance toward R'vain and the mug have earned him an arch of the brow. Brief though it is. "Sooner, if your needs call for it."
"The thirtieth should be all right," Roa says after a small moment and a silent study of R'vain's oh-so-innocent sip of klah. "Fall over Five Mines is due in...two sevens, I think? That should give them enough time, considering they must have been flying fall before." She turns her attention away from the weyrleader and onto Tavaly. "This has to be done quickly and calmly. Go in, relay the message, come home. Right?"
"Just about," R'vain agrees, of Roa's timeframe, then keeps himself quiet with the klah.
"I will be ready." Tav says simply. And when Roa mentions quick and calm, the greenrider actually offers a grin. "I like outings just fine, but I wager I'll like to come home on time from this one. You can count on that." A glance toward R'vain and then to Roa. And then away from them. So.. now what?
"Day after tomorrow, then. We'll get the charts to you by then. We'd like to send a healer with some supplies as well, in case they're in need. Haven't quite figured out who, yet." Roa inches back her chair with a faint scraping sound so she can slouch down a bit and stretch her legs out under the table. She follows Tavaly's gaze and looks to R'vain. 'Now what' times two.
That 'now what' look is evidently the Weyrleader's cue. He sets down his mug and slides back his chair, one paw curled at the edge of the table. "Want t'talk to you before y'go," he notes sidelong to Tavaly-- not that she's going immediately. "Go over th'charts before they're copied." He speaks to the greenrider but faces the Weyrwoman, apparently waiting on her approval before rising.
Good. Very good. Despite the silence of it, the massive sigh that deflates the greenrider's lungs is evident in the slight depression of her shoulders. Less stiffly, her head turns toward R'vain and she nods. "I have time. Whenever." She offers, then, too, looks at Roa somewhat expectantly.
"Go ahead," the weyrwoman says with a small nod. "Sooner the better, but I'm due in the dragon infirmary for a shift." The chair scrapes again and Roa pushes (or, rather, hauls herself up) into a stand. "I'll leave you pair to it, if that's all right. Oh. And settle on a healer if you can. Any of 'em would be fine by me."
R'vain's brows draw deeply. "Any of 'em," he grumbles, like this leaves him quite malcontent. But he pushes himself up and comes around the table at a slow-paced prowl, heading for Tavaly with obvious intent to walk her out; he even holds a hand toward the council room passageway. "We'll manage something, Weyrwoman."
Standing is easy when it comes to leaving a room with two very official people. And Tav executes the action with ease, turning toward the council room with only a pause to say to the woman, "You look good, by the way. Just.. smile more." Besides. The business talk between she and the Weyrwoman has come to an end for the time being. Always time for a light goodbye. And so Tav waves before disappearing into the next room.
The weyrwoman moves around the table and offers R'vain a little nod. Tavaly's comment has her brows hooking upwards, eyes blinking in mild surprise. "Come back safe," she says after a beat, "I'll smile." She offers, for now, a faint crook of her lips before she heads to the tunnel that will take her to the bowl.
R'vain follows after Tavaly, a low chortle his echoing response to Tavaly and Roa's exchange.
Where: Weyrleaders' Office, HRW
When: Afternoon, day 25, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass (5.7.2007-5.8.2007)
What: Making good on their arrangement, Tav and R'vain enter into palaver with Roa. Many things are discussed. Including cow-throwing.
It's the hours between lunch and dinner and the Weyrleaders' office currently has one small, pop-bellied, darkhaired occupant seated at the table. Roa is reading over the top of a thick stack of hides, nibbling her bottom lip and occasionally jotting this or that down. The afternoon is sunny and quiet, and one leather-gloved and oft-punching greenrider is expected soon.
Ruvoth commands, from his ledge above the bowl floor, a clear view of individuals going up the steps to the weyr office or onto the ledges of the queens below. This priority view is not quite as good overall as that afforded by some of the highest weyrs farther out in the bowl, but its convenience can't be denied: there remains only one way for most people to come into the Weyrleaders' quarters, through the council room, and most company is thus immediately anticipated. It may be for this reason that R'vain's bootheels thump heavily down the steps from his weyr just now. Or it may be that he's just coming down to wait. His pace is slower than usual; he brings with him a binder of hides, and has it open to read from it as he comes down the stairs.
Ruvoth will see first the approach of green wings, spread wide in the autumn air, drawn slowly higher and whipped lower to gain the small altitude she needs before landing where necessary. A croon and an unbuckling later, and the green waits, her rider dismounted and already walking toward the small stair that will lead her quickest to where she has to go. Her leathers look neater and cleaner today than usual. Even some consideration has been taken with the braid at her neck. Curled into a bun and speared with a single metal stick, it seems great care has been taken with her appearance. Today, of all days. Down the stairs she steps, first seeing the red man with his book. No smile. A clearing of the throat and two brows scooting upward as if to say, 'Well?' and she waits, a foot or two from where he stands.
But it's Roa that gets the first word, and that word is "Come" followed shortly by "in" and "Tavaly." She nudged the hidework away and gestures for the greenrider to take a seat on the otehr side of the tabel. "R'vain says you offered to be the Weyr's messenger to Five Mines."
R'vain halts at the foot of his stair, just before Tavaly on her way in, and raises his head a little so his gaze can come up from the text he's reading, through ruddy lashes at the greenrider there: 'Well?' right back. Only once she goes past him does he split a bit of a grin, and /that/ he tries to ease away before he faces Roa and the table and follows on toward it. "Get you klah if you want it," he rumbles, folding the binder closed in the curve of one enormous paw, heading for the pot and cups and tray.
Turning her head, Tavaly spies the little Weyrwoman behind the desk and nods her head. Once. Slowly. Then fixes her feet and sets them to carry her foreward. She finds the chair and steps around it. Sitting, then crossing the right over its left-side counterpart. "He says true." She confirms. "I have." At mention of klah, Tav merely turns her head to look at the fellow. No answer from her on that subject. Yet.
There is a small nod in return from the weyrwoman. "Help yourself," she agrees about the klah but then, more to the point, "What made you decide to do that?"
R'vain has nothing better to do that put down his binder with a thump on the table and overturn a mug for himself, then pour; he has furthermore not much better to do than turn over another mug and pour for Tavaly, too. Presumably. He watches the women a little, but does not offer another interruption so far.
Pale blue eyes study the face across from her, and Tav offers a small grin. "Heard mention that you needed one. Thought about it. Figured I'd offer my best. Know deep down that I can do for you what you need done. Quick. Efficient. Hush hush, otherwise. Got the means to do it on my own, need be. Low enough on the totem pole that I won't turn many heads on my way to and from." She explains. Then takes a moment to study the desk's top. A small nod to herself and then, "And I want to do it."
"It's fairly likely that AIvey is there, and I'm nearly certain E'sere is," Roa notes as her hands clasp on the table. "It could be argued that in some ways, sending you there puts you at a higher risk than some others. What are your thoughts on that?"
There's a little twitch under R'vain's eyes at Aivey's name, and a curl in his upper lip on E'sere's; the latter seems to soothe the former, though, and he buries both with a sip of the klah before shoving Tavaly's mug over toward her along with the milk and sweetener.
"Thought about that, too." Tav says, her expression a definite show of 'I kinda figured that was going to come up'. "Way I see it, unless you have specific need of getting information to /them/, my dealings with the majority of the exiles will be kept to a minimum. I don't have any desire to poke my nose where it don' belong. E'sere, I don't think, is any problem to me. While he turned out t'be a not-so-good fella, he never seemed to have personal quarrel with me. Aivey.. well, last time she hid in the dark and threw cows at me. Iffin' they have cattle, I doubt whoever she follows would take too kind to her spookin' the cattle into a riot. So." A small shrug. "Not worried about her. Aware of, but not worried. 'Sides, she aires on the side of cowardice. If I keep alert an' keep Immath lookin' every which way, there's no chance she'll get anything accomplished." The greenrider leans back in the chair, arms crossing over her chest. A small nod. "Possibly a higher risk, but I know what to expect better'n other folk. Know how to handle m'self and how t'get the Shardin' fuck out of there in a hurry if things go southerly."
At the mention of flung cows, Roa bites her bottom lip and glances downwards. This is meant to be a serious meeting, after all. After a few momnets and the clearing of her throat, the weyrwoman tries again. "No giving any information to anybody there. The less they know about High Reaches and the people within, the more comfortable I am."
R'vain is not so careful as Roa. He grins openly at the remark about the cows-- but when Tavaly claims Immath is a match for the chaotic assassin, his brows draw a little and staying serious becomes less of a challenge. He slips around behind the Weyrwoman and draws back a chair beside her, finally ending his looming over the table and the women seated there by sinking into a chair with his cup. "Speed ain't first here, Tavaly. Security is."
There is a nod for the Weyrwoman's words. A slow, purposeful one. "My feelings exactly. Last thing I want is to have this place crawlin' with unsavory type folk. They'll know nothing about the 'Reaches they don't already know." The greenrider states, even going so far as to thump her gloved fist against her chest briefly. To R'vain, she nods again. "That I understand. And I can assure the both of you that it is very near the top of my list of things to be painfully sure about."
Roa turns her gaze briefly from Tavaly and up and over to R'vain. "I want something in place. Some plan. In case Immath isn't quite as good a defense as we hope." She looks back, frowning a little bit. "They have a queen," she adds unhappily. "And that means, if they wish it, they can keep Immath from serving as extra eyes and ears."
"Not t'mention keep her from serving as your defense," R'vain tacks on; though the look he exchanged with Roa was done over the rim of his raised mug, he seems educated enough as to the drive of her argument. "You need t'not get t'where you need her. It's a peace mission first, Tavaly. They have t'know that from every step you take."
"Nenuith." Tav says softly, one foot coming up to rest on the edge of the seat, her arms circling around the leg. "I remember." And she is quiet, eyes atop her knee while R'vain adds. "While.. a good part of me believes that Diya wouldn't play such a part, I do understand. There is that possibility." To R'vain, Tav's pale blues skirt and she nods. "I like the open just fine. Don't intend to get boxed in, or anyplace someone could get b'hind me." And then a pause. And then a nod. "Understood. Don't want to cause a raucous anyhow. Do what I have to, polite like, how's you're uncle, fancy party, see y'all later. Tea party peaceful."
The weyrwoman draws in a slow and careful breath. She studies Tavaly for a beat longer and then peers up and over at the weyrleader again. Puffing out a soft sigh she asks the greenrider, "When's your next rest day?"
R'vain meets Roa's gaze over his upraised mug with an expression of grim indifference; only when she asks Tavaly that question does he have to actually use the klah for the purpose of shielding a grin. The look he gives the greenrider then is significant if brief-- there's a little gemstone glint in it, speculative but approving.
"Three-cee's not scheduled to fly this next 'fall. Got the Weyrlings in the afternoon tomorrow. Next day I had set aside for leather projects, but those can wait, dependin' on how quick you want things to start movin'. Thirtieth ought to be best." Is the answer Tavaly supplies the Weyrwoman. A glance toward R'vain and the mug have earned him an arch of the brow. Brief though it is. "Sooner, if your needs call for it."
"The thirtieth should be all right," Roa says after a small moment and a silent study of R'vain's oh-so-innocent sip of klah. "Fall over Five Mines is due in...two sevens, I think? That should give them enough time, considering they must have been flying fall before." She turns her attention away from the weyrleader and onto Tavaly. "This has to be done quickly and calmly. Go in, relay the message, come home. Right?"
"Just about," R'vain agrees, of Roa's timeframe, then keeps himself quiet with the klah.
"I will be ready." Tav says simply. And when Roa mentions quick and calm, the greenrider actually offers a grin. "I like outings just fine, but I wager I'll like to come home on time from this one. You can count on that." A glance toward R'vain and then to Roa. And then away from them. So.. now what?
"Day after tomorrow, then. We'll get the charts to you by then. We'd like to send a healer with some supplies as well, in case they're in need. Haven't quite figured out who, yet." Roa inches back her chair with a faint scraping sound so she can slouch down a bit and stretch her legs out under the table. She follows Tavaly's gaze and looks to R'vain. 'Now what' times two.
That 'now what' look is evidently the Weyrleader's cue. He sets down his mug and slides back his chair, one paw curled at the edge of the table. "Want t'talk to you before y'go," he notes sidelong to Tavaly-- not that she's going immediately. "Go over th'charts before they're copied." He speaks to the greenrider but faces the Weyrwoman, apparently waiting on her approval before rising.
Good. Very good. Despite the silence of it, the massive sigh that deflates the greenrider's lungs is evident in the slight depression of her shoulders. Less stiffly, her head turns toward R'vain and she nods. "I have time. Whenever." She offers, then, too, looks at Roa somewhat expectantly.
"Go ahead," the weyrwoman says with a small nod. "Sooner the better, but I'm due in the dragon infirmary for a shift." The chair scrapes again and Roa pushes (or, rather, hauls herself up) into a stand. "I'll leave you pair to it, if that's all right. Oh. And settle on a healer if you can. Any of 'em would be fine by me."
R'vain's brows draw deeply. "Any of 'em," he grumbles, like this leaves him quite malcontent. But he pushes himself up and comes around the table at a slow-paced prowl, heading for Tavaly with obvious intent to walk her out; he even holds a hand toward the council room passageway. "We'll manage something, Weyrwoman."
Standing is easy when it comes to leaving a room with two very official people. And Tav executes the action with ease, turning toward the council room with only a pause to say to the woman, "You look good, by the way. Just.. smile more." Besides. The business talk between she and the Weyrwoman has come to an end for the time being. Always time for a light goodbye. And so Tav waves before disappearing into the next room.
The weyrwoman moves around the table and offers R'vain a little nod. Tavaly's comment has her brows hooking upwards, eyes blinking in mild surprise. "Come back safe," she says after a beat, "I'll smile." She offers, for now, a faint crook of her lips before she heads to the tunnel that will take her to the bowl.
R'vain follows after Tavaly, a low chortle his echoing response to Tavaly and Roa's exchange.