Sometimes Cake is Not Enough
Who: Miniyal and B'ren
Where: Records Room, HRW
When: Evening, current turn
What: B'ren's attempts to be nice to Miniyal fail and a map is not made.
10/24/2005
The stars are just starting to peep out of the night sky and the bowl has settled down for the evening. Noise comes echoing out of tunnels and weyrs as well as sparking up loudly whenever a group or individual moves from one to the other, crossing the bowl in a hurry or strolling along. A few dragons lounge here and there, but most have retired with their riders to their weyrs, the ones still hanging around mostly visitors from other places.
Standing near one of these dragons, a small blue, is Miniyal. Well, she's standing by his rider anyway, the two of them speaking quietly as said rider hands her a few hides, smiling and winking in a way that goes entirely over the recordskeeper/assistant's head. She just smiles back in her neutral friendly way and steps back so he can mount the impatient looking dragon and be away.
Miyamurath appears above from between and circles down to a gentle landing in the bowl, folding her wings and turning to watch her rider dismount. Patting her muzzle, B'ren leans against her chest and peers through the gloom, "Hoy, Miniyal! Got those maps for me yet?"
Head turning at the sound of her name, Miniyal peers about until she finds a shape to connect with the voice. The hides in her hand are gripped tighter and she holds them close. First she eyes the dragon and then the rider before she lets out a loud sigh and then shuffles closer to where B'ren stands. "Maps?" she asks, sounding confused before the little lightbulb goes on over her head. "Oh! Ista. Right, no. I mean, I can't find them. I think someone's been mucking up in the records room -again- and I've been too busy to sort it out since I am not really supposed to be helping anyway since I am supposed to be, well, yes. So, no. Where were you?"
B'ren awws, "No maps? Pitty, I've got time tonight too." Miyamurath croons sweetly to the woman and stretches her muzzle, sniffing curiously at the hides. "We were just off at Benden Hold, picking up some things for a caucus member."
Miniyal's head tips over to the left and she frowns lightly. "Well, I'd like to have had your help. Oh! I know. I can draw new ones! You can tell me all about everything." Yes, this is a wonderful idea. Unless B'ren knows how long it takes to make a map. And how exacting the mapmaker is going to be. Hours of 'Maybe this line should be a bit to the left. Are you sure you meant east?' would lie ahead of him. Sticking her hands behind her back to remove the hides from the sight of the sniffing dragon, for whatever weird reason, she says, "Benden? Did you see a lot? I think I know where the Benden maps are."
B'ren's brows lift, "Draw new ones? Erm.." He hesitates and then seems to remember something, plastering a smile on his lips. "Sure! That sounds great. Would you like to start now?" Miyamurath yawns and curls up around her rider. Sounds dreadfully boring to her.
Blinking a few times in the fading light, Miniyal peers suspiciously over at B'ren. "Well, really? For sure?" she asks with a growing smile. "For sure? I've never gotten to draw a whole new map! Usually I just touch up old ones for people or add pieces to old ones. Really?" See that gleam in her eyes? It's the gleam of a fanatic. "Just, umm. I know! Meet me in the records room! Ok? Alright? I have everything I need there. Promise? Right now. Well, you can eat first if you want. I have to finish something up."
B'ren bows towards the woman, "I live to serve," he says smoothly, "But I'll bring us some food, how about that?" Miyamurath cracks an eye open and peers at her lifemate, who makes a negating motion with his hand. With an amused rumble the little green drifts to sleep.
Miniyal smiles brightly and then bobs her head up and down. "Alright. Umm, I ate already. A snack would be alright." Always alright to have a snack. Must maintain one's figure. "Alright! So, like, in a little bit? Half an hour?"
B'ren nods, "Or less," he says with a wink, striding off towards the Living Caverns to interrogate the cooks and bakers to Miniyal's favorite snacks. Must make a good appearance and appear helpful, at least, right? That's what Evhedarel said.
Then sometime before half an hour is up Miniyal has brightened up the records room with plenty of glows. A large table has been cleared off and she's seated on a stool behind it, implements of destruction awaiting their doom. Wait, that sounded wrong. She's seated at the table with what she uses to make maps with! Perfectly harmless. As she waits she hums a few notes of something or other under her breath, tapping her fingers impatiently.
B'ren crosses the threshold of the records room flourishing a tray heaped with all sorts of sweets. Cookies, bubblies, a pie, a few pieces of cake...all placed in a lovely arrangement and giving off the most delectable arroma. Clearly the greenrider is trying to get Miniyal into a sugar coma before the map making gets too drawn out. Placing the tray on the edge of the table he pulls a few utensils out of his pocket and sets them down before sitting on a stool with a grin. "Where do we start?"
Miniyal peers at the food and frowns slightly. "I, umm, said a snack. You know? Not, you know, the whole kitchen." Which does not stop one ink stained hand from reaching out to grab a cookie and sniff at it before taking a bite. "First we need to establish a scale," she says cheerfully. "You know, so many inches equals so many miles and so on. Now, we don't want it too big, but if it's too small we won't get detail." She pauses to chew on her cookie and then eyes the rider up and down. "I'll do that on my own," she says.
B'ren nods and smiles charmingly, "Okay," he agrees, reaching out for a piece of cake and eating it slowly, savoring the delicious taste and texture. "If I get a room wrong, what's my punishment?"
Forehead scrunched up as she selects what writing implement to use, Miniyal cocks her head and peers over at B'ren. "I don't know how I would know unless I got someone to verify it. I suppose I could ask one of the caucus members, but I don't really like them." She scowls at the thought and then says, "You won't get them wrong. You're helping me do a new map and we mustn't get it wrong. You're going to get it wrong? I knew it!" She hmphs softly and now glares over at him.
B'ren sets down the cake and holds up both his hands, "I won't get it wrong, I promise!" he says with a laugh. Then, "You don't like them either, huh? I've met a few and they seem alright though, so I'm wondering if most of them are nice like that? Penny's actually pretty cute."
Miniyal blinks a few times and asks, "Who? I don't know their names. I only interact with them when Diya needs me to. Otherwise I'd just as soon be left to my own devices. It seems pointless to bother giving them any time when they come and go like. . .well, something that comes and goes." A shake of her head and she spits a few wisps of hair from her mouth. "How do I know I can trust you now to not mess it up? Now I don't -know-."
B'ren smiles warmly at her, his green eyes seeking hers, "You can trust me," he says softly. "If I'm not sure, we'll stop and I'll take Miyamurath and go check, how about that? Or we can go, so you can see too and double check me."
Miniyal shrinks some and shakes her head quickly. "No! No, that's alright. Really, I am fine. You don't need. . .really. No. I don't need to go. I am sure someone here could verify that for me." Grabbing a second, or is it third by now, cookie, she takes a large bite from it. Nervous eater. "We'll just start with, well, I'm not sure."
B'ren lifts his brows, "Miyamurath is perfectly safe," he assures. "Are you afraid of dragons?"
Miniyal rolls her eyes and scoffs softly around a mouth full of cookie. "No," she says with a snort. "I am not afraid of dragons. I grew up -here-. That is the dumbest thing I ever heard." Another roll of her eyes and she just says, "I have no need to go anywhere. Besides, I can't go because if Diya needed me I would not be around and sometimes she requires me to go places with her. So, I will just have to take your word for it." A scowl at this, she doesn't trust him one bit now.
B'ren grins and presses, "Flying, then? Afraid of flying? Between? C'mon, why won't you fly with Miya and I? Look, here," he taps the paper, "Let's put the entrance there, 'cause then when you look at the map the top of the page will be North. Less confusing that way."
Not entirely convinced this is the best way to start, Miniyal does so anyway. She picks up her pen and makes a small mark then marks the corner with the compass. "No, I just don't like going places," she says with a frown. "I like it here fine. Why should I go anywhere else? I do when I have to, but I like it here and so don't want to go anywhere else so what is the big deal?"
B'ren shrugs a shoulder and leans against the table, "Fair enough," he said, "but you don't feel stuck, sometimes? Feel the need to get out and just get away from these walls and these records? I think there's a wild woman inside you just itching to burst out."
Miniyal rubs at her eyes with an ink stained finger and then starts to laugh. It's not a musical laugh or very melodic. It's rather nasally actually, but at least she doesn't snort too. "I like the records room. I like my work. I prefer not to have to deal with too many idiots. And I am quite sure there is no sort of woman inside me trying to get out."
B'ren grins, his eyes twinkling, "Okay," he says, but it's clearly not the end of it. "The living caverns are here, about two lengths away."
Miniyal looks at her hide after wiping cookie crumbs off her fingers and onto her dress. "Wait, how is it? A straight? How much does it curve. And are there places off? Wait. We should start on the outside and work our way in. Or maybe from the top down? No, that should be a different map." Different map? As in she'll want to do more than one.
B'ren blinks, and then nods, "Okay...the bowl is shaped like this," he says, tracing his fingertip over the hide as he calls the Ista shape from his memory, drilled in during between training.
Miniyal begins to scratch the pen across the hide, looking from it to B'ren. She frowns at what she has and asks, "Wait, does it curve like that?" A gesture to her work. "Or is it a little flatter of a curve? Or more rounded?"
B'ren grins, "More rounded," he says, putting his finger down and tracing it slowly, so she can follow behind with the pen, "Do you want me to pick my finger up when there's a weyr or tunnel entrance?"
Miniyal doesn't seem pleased with his finger on the hide at all. She stares at it. Then she sighs. "Oh, well, yes. I guess so." Sounding entirely put out. "This is very hard. I am used to dealing with people who know what they are doing." Not that she has much of a clue it would seem.
B'ren blinks, "But what am I supposed to be doing, if not telling you what it looks like?" he asks, turning to look at her. "How else are we going to do it?"
Miniyal's foot stomps on the ground and she rolls her eyes. "Well, you're not very exacting, are you? I mean, how can I know if you're truly telling me the way it is or just how you -remember- it to be? Or getting it all wrong on purpose." More suspicion is cast towards the rider. "Are you trying to mess it up on purpose?"
B'ren laughs, "My dear, I have no other way to see Ista other than my memory. Though I suppose I could have Miyamurath bespeak one of her favorite blues at Ista, and have him hover over the weyr and send her a mental image, which I can describe to you?" He lifts a brow and glances at her. "Why would I mess it up on purpose?"
"Well, I don't know, do I?" Miniyal says sharply. "You could be. . .doing it for any number of reasons! For all I know you're just here because you're a screw up anyway and they shuffled you off."
B'ren smiles gently, without any malice in his eyes, "Actually," he says slowly, "That is why I'm here." He gives that a moment to sink in before asking, "but shouldn't I be given a second chance?" Third? Fourth, anyone?
Miniyal pauses mid-reach for a cookie and then smirks. "I knew it. It's not like people get sent here for good reasons usually. Like, like we're some sort of punishment! And we're not! At all!" She glares to be sure her point is made. "Well, personally I don't see why -I- would have to give you any sort of chance. But, well, whatever. We'll try this."
B'ren glowers, "Look, I've tried to be nice. I agreed to help you out, I brought you snacks, I've been polite. I don't know what your problem is. And no, I was sent here because my Weyrleaders knew -your- Weyrleaders could handle me, and maybe whip me into shape. I don't have to help you with this map."
"Yea, well, you said you would!" Miniyal argues back, rather softly, but still, it's an argumentative tone. "And stop looking at me like that. I'm just trying to make this right and if you can't handle that then you can go. . .go jump off a cliff or something. If you didn't want to help why did you even say you would?"
B'ren shakes his head, "I'm happy to help people who appreciate it. Not women who throw accusations at me when I've been nothing but helpful. You don't trust me? Fine, do it yourself." He gets up, fists clenched.
Miniyal throws her pen down on the table where it rolls off onto the floor. "Yes, well, fine. Be that way. And I was just trying to make sure it was done properly anyway. I was not accusing you. Just the fact that you might not do it right." Which is a big, umm, difference. "Oh, just go on. I'll find the old maps anyway!" Her stool clatters over to the ground and she turns her back on him, marching to a set of shelves that she begins to examine.
B'ren smiles to himself when her back is turned. There that wild woman is. He bends down and picks up her stool, sitting on it. Then he has to get up again and retrieve the pen. Sitting down again he begins to draw the map, his hand a little shaky and he's certainly no expert, but c'mon, anyone can draw a map, right? Slowly and painstakingly he outlines the bowl on the hide with the pen.
With her back turned, Miniyal continues to look for what she is seeking. Someone with less respect for the records would probably be hurling them about by now. A stomp of her foot and she turns around. "What do you think you are doing?" she says sharply, stomping over to the table where B'ren sits. "Stop that!"
B'ren doesn't look up, "Careful you don't jar the table," he murmurs, head bent and eyes intent on the line he's drawing. Up and around...a little more curved, there we go, and on to the north rim.
Miniyal stomps her foot and nearly slams her hand on the table, but she's been working here for too many turns to give in and do that when someone is working. "You're not going to get it right. I think you should go. I mean, really." Without thinking about it she reaches out and snags the last cookie. "That doesn't look anything like the old map."
B'ren mmms, "Does the old map include the new cavern that's been dug? Or the old one that finally fell in? Have some faith in me, woman, shards." He chuckles and lifts the pen to mark another entrance.
Miniyal rolls her eyes and stuffs the last of her cookie into her mouth. Around it she says, "I don't see why I should. You've not got any sense at all." At least she's not spitting crumbs everywhere! Her foot taps and she says, "You're lines are too thick."
B'ren shrugs a shoulder, "Too bad, you didn't want to do it, so now I'm doing it." He pauses to sign his name in the corner and then resumes his drawing until the bowl is complete. "There," he says, sitting back with a smile.
Miniyal looks at the map and frowns. "Well, if you're not going to do it right of course go right ahead. I'm sure you know ever so much about it anyway." Under her breath she mumbles something before a smirk escapes when he signs his name. "Yes, well, no one else would want to claim that."
B'ren looks up and grins at her, "You want to sit down again?" he asks, offering her the pen.
Miniyal looks at the pen and then says, "No. Now I am sure you'll mess me up. Just. . .just let me find the old maps." Another foot stomp and she resists the urge to snatch the pen from his hand like a little child would.
B'ren holds the pen out for a moment later, his brows lifted in a silent question.
Miniyal switches her glare to the pen and then snatches it from his hand. "You're going to mess it up," she says as an excuse.
B'ren gets to his feet and bows her to the stool, returning to his cake.
Miniyal glares at the pen and at the rider as she sits down. Then she stares at the map and takes up another hide to start over.
B'ren heys, reaching out a hand to stop her, "Now c'mon, there's nothing wrong with my map. You're just too proud to accept that a greenrider can do what you do."
Miniyal doesn't even look up, just slides the hide atop the old one. "I told you, the lines are too thick. What did I say? Do you want this done right? I do."
B'ren snorts, reaching under to pull out his hide and putting it on top of the new one. This can only end badly, "I say it's fine. Work on this one, or I'll just take it and leave, and do it myself."
Miniyal snatches the fresh hide out from under his and shakes her head. "They are too thick. Just like your sharding head."
B'ren takes his hide and rolls it up, tucking it under his arm and sitting down, waiting quietly. Very quietly.
Miniyal sits up straighter and grins in a superior fashion. "Well, are you going to go do your own then? Go on then. The lines are too thick and you'll never get it right. But what do I know?"
B'ren shakes his head slowly, back and forth.
Miniyal taps her pen on the hide. "Oh, and what do you know about it?"
B'ren lifts a brow, "Nothing other than the layout of Ista. Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is essential to making a map."
Miniyal's eyes narrow and she ceases tapping her pen. "Yes, well, it's not as if I can't find someone else who knows it. I bet there is someone else from Ista here who would be happy to assist me." Being the cheerful outgoing person she is, that should be no problem at all.
B'ren inclines his head in a silent agreement, and crosses his legs and continues to eat his cake, watching the hide on the table as if it's going to draw itself.
Miniyal will just out last him. If anyone excels at sitting quietly and doing nothing it's the former records keeper now assistant. As she waits she picks up her pen and begins to write on her hide. It looks like a list. She does not lift her head however or acknowledge the other person in any way.
There's a problem. B'ren is impatient, but he's also very stubborn and hates to lose. He grits his teeth and holds himself still, though he doesn't know how long he can last.
Miniyal has no problem, she has all the patience in the world. Just because, she begins to hum under her breath. It's a catchy tune, something light that everyone would be humming. Some new entertaining song some harper brought here. Every now and again she peeks over at the rider, determined to outlast him.
B'ren gets to his feet finally and turns towards the door. After a moment's pause though he turns back and picks up the tray - which still has that pie and few pieces of cake - and walks out.
He took the cake! That was playing dirty! Well, that did not go quite the way it could have. Miniyal looks over at the door and then stands up, beginning to put things away.
Where: Records Room, HRW
When: Evening, current turn
What: B'ren's attempts to be nice to Miniyal fail and a map is not made.
10/24/2005
The stars are just starting to peep out of the night sky and the bowl has settled down for the evening. Noise comes echoing out of tunnels and weyrs as well as sparking up loudly whenever a group or individual moves from one to the other, crossing the bowl in a hurry or strolling along. A few dragons lounge here and there, but most have retired with their riders to their weyrs, the ones still hanging around mostly visitors from other places.
Standing near one of these dragons, a small blue, is Miniyal. Well, she's standing by his rider anyway, the two of them speaking quietly as said rider hands her a few hides, smiling and winking in a way that goes entirely over the recordskeeper/assistant's head. She just smiles back in her neutral friendly way and steps back so he can mount the impatient looking dragon and be away.
Miyamurath appears above from between and circles down to a gentle landing in the bowl, folding her wings and turning to watch her rider dismount. Patting her muzzle, B'ren leans against her chest and peers through the gloom, "Hoy, Miniyal! Got those maps for me yet?"
Head turning at the sound of her name, Miniyal peers about until she finds a shape to connect with the voice. The hides in her hand are gripped tighter and she holds them close. First she eyes the dragon and then the rider before she lets out a loud sigh and then shuffles closer to where B'ren stands. "Maps?" she asks, sounding confused before the little lightbulb goes on over her head. "Oh! Ista. Right, no. I mean, I can't find them. I think someone's been mucking up in the records room -again- and I've been too busy to sort it out since I am not really supposed to be helping anyway since I am supposed to be, well, yes. So, no. Where were you?"
B'ren awws, "No maps? Pitty, I've got time tonight too." Miyamurath croons sweetly to the woman and stretches her muzzle, sniffing curiously at the hides. "We were just off at Benden Hold, picking up some things for a caucus member."
Miniyal's head tips over to the left and she frowns lightly. "Well, I'd like to have had your help. Oh! I know. I can draw new ones! You can tell me all about everything." Yes, this is a wonderful idea. Unless B'ren knows how long it takes to make a map. And how exacting the mapmaker is going to be. Hours of 'Maybe this line should be a bit to the left. Are you sure you meant east?' would lie ahead of him. Sticking her hands behind her back to remove the hides from the sight of the sniffing dragon, for whatever weird reason, she says, "Benden? Did you see a lot? I think I know where the Benden maps are."
B'ren's brows lift, "Draw new ones? Erm.." He hesitates and then seems to remember something, plastering a smile on his lips. "Sure! That sounds great. Would you like to start now?" Miyamurath yawns and curls up around her rider. Sounds dreadfully boring to her.
Blinking a few times in the fading light, Miniyal peers suspiciously over at B'ren. "Well, really? For sure?" she asks with a growing smile. "For sure? I've never gotten to draw a whole new map! Usually I just touch up old ones for people or add pieces to old ones. Really?" See that gleam in her eyes? It's the gleam of a fanatic. "Just, umm. I know! Meet me in the records room! Ok? Alright? I have everything I need there. Promise? Right now. Well, you can eat first if you want. I have to finish something up."
B'ren bows towards the woman, "I live to serve," he says smoothly, "But I'll bring us some food, how about that?" Miyamurath cracks an eye open and peers at her lifemate, who makes a negating motion with his hand. With an amused rumble the little green drifts to sleep.
Miniyal smiles brightly and then bobs her head up and down. "Alright. Umm, I ate already. A snack would be alright." Always alright to have a snack. Must maintain one's figure. "Alright! So, like, in a little bit? Half an hour?"
B'ren nods, "Or less," he says with a wink, striding off towards the Living Caverns to interrogate the cooks and bakers to Miniyal's favorite snacks. Must make a good appearance and appear helpful, at least, right? That's what Evhedarel said.
Then sometime before half an hour is up Miniyal has brightened up the records room with plenty of glows. A large table has been cleared off and she's seated on a stool behind it, implements of destruction awaiting their doom. Wait, that sounded wrong. She's seated at the table with what she uses to make maps with! Perfectly harmless. As she waits she hums a few notes of something or other under her breath, tapping her fingers impatiently.
B'ren crosses the threshold of the records room flourishing a tray heaped with all sorts of sweets. Cookies, bubblies, a pie, a few pieces of cake...all placed in a lovely arrangement and giving off the most delectable arroma. Clearly the greenrider is trying to get Miniyal into a sugar coma before the map making gets too drawn out. Placing the tray on the edge of the table he pulls a few utensils out of his pocket and sets them down before sitting on a stool with a grin. "Where do we start?"
Miniyal peers at the food and frowns slightly. "I, umm, said a snack. You know? Not, you know, the whole kitchen." Which does not stop one ink stained hand from reaching out to grab a cookie and sniff at it before taking a bite. "First we need to establish a scale," she says cheerfully. "You know, so many inches equals so many miles and so on. Now, we don't want it too big, but if it's too small we won't get detail." She pauses to chew on her cookie and then eyes the rider up and down. "I'll do that on my own," she says.
B'ren nods and smiles charmingly, "Okay," he agrees, reaching out for a piece of cake and eating it slowly, savoring the delicious taste and texture. "If I get a room wrong, what's my punishment?"
Forehead scrunched up as she selects what writing implement to use, Miniyal cocks her head and peers over at B'ren. "I don't know how I would know unless I got someone to verify it. I suppose I could ask one of the caucus members, but I don't really like them." She scowls at the thought and then says, "You won't get them wrong. You're helping me do a new map and we mustn't get it wrong. You're going to get it wrong? I knew it!" She hmphs softly and now glares over at him.
B'ren sets down the cake and holds up both his hands, "I won't get it wrong, I promise!" he says with a laugh. Then, "You don't like them either, huh? I've met a few and they seem alright though, so I'm wondering if most of them are nice like that? Penny's actually pretty cute."
Miniyal blinks a few times and asks, "Who? I don't know their names. I only interact with them when Diya needs me to. Otherwise I'd just as soon be left to my own devices. It seems pointless to bother giving them any time when they come and go like. . .well, something that comes and goes." A shake of her head and she spits a few wisps of hair from her mouth. "How do I know I can trust you now to not mess it up? Now I don't -know-."
B'ren smiles warmly at her, his green eyes seeking hers, "You can trust me," he says softly. "If I'm not sure, we'll stop and I'll take Miyamurath and go check, how about that? Or we can go, so you can see too and double check me."
Miniyal shrinks some and shakes her head quickly. "No! No, that's alright. Really, I am fine. You don't need. . .really. No. I don't need to go. I am sure someone here could verify that for me." Grabbing a second, or is it third by now, cookie, she takes a large bite from it. Nervous eater. "We'll just start with, well, I'm not sure."
B'ren lifts his brows, "Miyamurath is perfectly safe," he assures. "Are you afraid of dragons?"
Miniyal rolls her eyes and scoffs softly around a mouth full of cookie. "No," she says with a snort. "I am not afraid of dragons. I grew up -here-. That is the dumbest thing I ever heard." Another roll of her eyes and she just says, "I have no need to go anywhere. Besides, I can't go because if Diya needed me I would not be around and sometimes she requires me to go places with her. So, I will just have to take your word for it." A scowl at this, she doesn't trust him one bit now.
B'ren grins and presses, "Flying, then? Afraid of flying? Between? C'mon, why won't you fly with Miya and I? Look, here," he taps the paper, "Let's put the entrance there, 'cause then when you look at the map the top of the page will be North. Less confusing that way."
Not entirely convinced this is the best way to start, Miniyal does so anyway. She picks up her pen and makes a small mark then marks the corner with the compass. "No, I just don't like going places," she says with a frown. "I like it here fine. Why should I go anywhere else? I do when I have to, but I like it here and so don't want to go anywhere else so what is the big deal?"
B'ren shrugs a shoulder and leans against the table, "Fair enough," he said, "but you don't feel stuck, sometimes? Feel the need to get out and just get away from these walls and these records? I think there's a wild woman inside you just itching to burst out."
Miniyal rubs at her eyes with an ink stained finger and then starts to laugh. It's not a musical laugh or very melodic. It's rather nasally actually, but at least she doesn't snort too. "I like the records room. I like my work. I prefer not to have to deal with too many idiots. And I am quite sure there is no sort of woman inside me trying to get out."
B'ren grins, his eyes twinkling, "Okay," he says, but it's clearly not the end of it. "The living caverns are here, about two lengths away."
Miniyal looks at her hide after wiping cookie crumbs off her fingers and onto her dress. "Wait, how is it? A straight? How much does it curve. And are there places off? Wait. We should start on the outside and work our way in. Or maybe from the top down? No, that should be a different map." Different map? As in she'll want to do more than one.
B'ren blinks, and then nods, "Okay...the bowl is shaped like this," he says, tracing his fingertip over the hide as he calls the Ista shape from his memory, drilled in during between training.
Miniyal begins to scratch the pen across the hide, looking from it to B'ren. She frowns at what she has and asks, "Wait, does it curve like that?" A gesture to her work. "Or is it a little flatter of a curve? Or more rounded?"
B'ren grins, "More rounded," he says, putting his finger down and tracing it slowly, so she can follow behind with the pen, "Do you want me to pick my finger up when there's a weyr or tunnel entrance?"
Miniyal doesn't seem pleased with his finger on the hide at all. She stares at it. Then she sighs. "Oh, well, yes. I guess so." Sounding entirely put out. "This is very hard. I am used to dealing with people who know what they are doing." Not that she has much of a clue it would seem.
B'ren blinks, "But what am I supposed to be doing, if not telling you what it looks like?" he asks, turning to look at her. "How else are we going to do it?"
Miniyal's foot stomps on the ground and she rolls her eyes. "Well, you're not very exacting, are you? I mean, how can I know if you're truly telling me the way it is or just how you -remember- it to be? Or getting it all wrong on purpose." More suspicion is cast towards the rider. "Are you trying to mess it up on purpose?"
B'ren laughs, "My dear, I have no other way to see Ista other than my memory. Though I suppose I could have Miyamurath bespeak one of her favorite blues at Ista, and have him hover over the weyr and send her a mental image, which I can describe to you?" He lifts a brow and glances at her. "Why would I mess it up on purpose?"
"Well, I don't know, do I?" Miniyal says sharply. "You could be. . .doing it for any number of reasons! For all I know you're just here because you're a screw up anyway and they shuffled you off."
B'ren smiles gently, without any malice in his eyes, "Actually," he says slowly, "That is why I'm here." He gives that a moment to sink in before asking, "but shouldn't I be given a second chance?" Third? Fourth, anyone?
Miniyal pauses mid-reach for a cookie and then smirks. "I knew it. It's not like people get sent here for good reasons usually. Like, like we're some sort of punishment! And we're not! At all!" She glares to be sure her point is made. "Well, personally I don't see why -I- would have to give you any sort of chance. But, well, whatever. We'll try this."
B'ren glowers, "Look, I've tried to be nice. I agreed to help you out, I brought you snacks, I've been polite. I don't know what your problem is. And no, I was sent here because my Weyrleaders knew -your- Weyrleaders could handle me, and maybe whip me into shape. I don't have to help you with this map."
"Yea, well, you said you would!" Miniyal argues back, rather softly, but still, it's an argumentative tone. "And stop looking at me like that. I'm just trying to make this right and if you can't handle that then you can go. . .go jump off a cliff or something. If you didn't want to help why did you even say you would?"
B'ren shakes his head, "I'm happy to help people who appreciate it. Not women who throw accusations at me when I've been nothing but helpful. You don't trust me? Fine, do it yourself." He gets up, fists clenched.
Miniyal throws her pen down on the table where it rolls off onto the floor. "Yes, well, fine. Be that way. And I was just trying to make sure it was done properly anyway. I was not accusing you. Just the fact that you might not do it right." Which is a big, umm, difference. "Oh, just go on. I'll find the old maps anyway!" Her stool clatters over to the ground and she turns her back on him, marching to a set of shelves that she begins to examine.
B'ren smiles to himself when her back is turned. There that wild woman is. He bends down and picks up her stool, sitting on it. Then he has to get up again and retrieve the pen. Sitting down again he begins to draw the map, his hand a little shaky and he's certainly no expert, but c'mon, anyone can draw a map, right? Slowly and painstakingly he outlines the bowl on the hide with the pen.
With her back turned, Miniyal continues to look for what she is seeking. Someone with less respect for the records would probably be hurling them about by now. A stomp of her foot and she turns around. "What do you think you are doing?" she says sharply, stomping over to the table where B'ren sits. "Stop that!"
B'ren doesn't look up, "Careful you don't jar the table," he murmurs, head bent and eyes intent on the line he's drawing. Up and around...a little more curved, there we go, and on to the north rim.
Miniyal stomps her foot and nearly slams her hand on the table, but she's been working here for too many turns to give in and do that when someone is working. "You're not going to get it right. I think you should go. I mean, really." Without thinking about it she reaches out and snags the last cookie. "That doesn't look anything like the old map."
B'ren mmms, "Does the old map include the new cavern that's been dug? Or the old one that finally fell in? Have some faith in me, woman, shards." He chuckles and lifts the pen to mark another entrance.
Miniyal rolls her eyes and stuffs the last of her cookie into her mouth. Around it she says, "I don't see why I should. You've not got any sense at all." At least she's not spitting crumbs everywhere! Her foot taps and she says, "You're lines are too thick."
B'ren shrugs a shoulder, "Too bad, you didn't want to do it, so now I'm doing it." He pauses to sign his name in the corner and then resumes his drawing until the bowl is complete. "There," he says, sitting back with a smile.
Miniyal looks at the map and frowns. "Well, if you're not going to do it right of course go right ahead. I'm sure you know ever so much about it anyway." Under her breath she mumbles something before a smirk escapes when he signs his name. "Yes, well, no one else would want to claim that."
B'ren looks up and grins at her, "You want to sit down again?" he asks, offering her the pen.
Miniyal looks at the pen and then says, "No. Now I am sure you'll mess me up. Just. . .just let me find the old maps." Another foot stomp and she resists the urge to snatch the pen from his hand like a little child would.
B'ren holds the pen out for a moment later, his brows lifted in a silent question.
Miniyal switches her glare to the pen and then snatches it from his hand. "You're going to mess it up," she says as an excuse.
B'ren gets to his feet and bows her to the stool, returning to his cake.
Miniyal glares at the pen and at the rider as she sits down. Then she stares at the map and takes up another hide to start over.
B'ren heys, reaching out a hand to stop her, "Now c'mon, there's nothing wrong with my map. You're just too proud to accept that a greenrider can do what you do."
Miniyal doesn't even look up, just slides the hide atop the old one. "I told you, the lines are too thick. What did I say? Do you want this done right? I do."
B'ren snorts, reaching under to pull out his hide and putting it on top of the new one. This can only end badly, "I say it's fine. Work on this one, or I'll just take it and leave, and do it myself."
Miniyal snatches the fresh hide out from under his and shakes her head. "They are too thick. Just like your sharding head."
B'ren takes his hide and rolls it up, tucking it under his arm and sitting down, waiting quietly. Very quietly.
Miniyal sits up straighter and grins in a superior fashion. "Well, are you going to go do your own then? Go on then. The lines are too thick and you'll never get it right. But what do I know?"
B'ren shakes his head slowly, back and forth.
Miniyal taps her pen on the hide. "Oh, and what do you know about it?"
B'ren lifts a brow, "Nothing other than the layout of Ista. Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is essential to making a map."
Miniyal's eyes narrow and she ceases tapping her pen. "Yes, well, it's not as if I can't find someone else who knows it. I bet there is someone else from Ista here who would be happy to assist me." Being the cheerful outgoing person she is, that should be no problem at all.
B'ren inclines his head in a silent agreement, and crosses his legs and continues to eat his cake, watching the hide on the table as if it's going to draw itself.
Miniyal will just out last him. If anyone excels at sitting quietly and doing nothing it's the former records keeper now assistant. As she waits she picks up her pen and begins to write on her hide. It looks like a list. She does not lift her head however or acknowledge the other person in any way.
There's a problem. B'ren is impatient, but he's also very stubborn and hates to lose. He grits his teeth and holds himself still, though he doesn't know how long he can last.
Miniyal has no problem, she has all the patience in the world. Just because, she begins to hum under her breath. It's a catchy tune, something light that everyone would be humming. Some new entertaining song some harper brought here. Every now and again she peeks over at the rider, determined to outlast him.
B'ren gets to his feet finally and turns towards the door. After a moment's pause though he turns back and picks up the tray - which still has that pie and few pieces of cake - and walks out.
He took the cake! That was playing dirty! Well, that did not go quite the way it could have. Miniyal looks over at the door and then stands up, beginning to put things away.