In the middle of the night someone calls
Who: Miniyal and Issa
Where: Records Room, HRW
When: 22:40 on day 18, month 5, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Issa has questions to which Miniyal provides unsatisfactory answers
As Head of Records no one is interested. If she had known resigning would get her this much attention I imagine, lie or no, she would have remained in place.
9/8/2006
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 22:40 on day 18, month 5, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
Someone is not supposed to be here. The headwoman demanded of Miniyal after she resigned that she stay away for two days and ponder her future. But, that does not mean that Miniyal is going to stay away. Perish the thought! Instead she sits alone as no one else is about this time of night. Rather than work, she sits still, staring at nothing at all. There is not even work in front of her to pretend to be doing. She just sits. Wasting time.
Quite promptly, Issa has returned almost exactly a sevenday since she last borrowed her customary three packets of hides. She seems unworried by the fact that this isn't an hour one would normally pay a visit to the records room, and swings around the edge of the door with a comfortable, if weary, pace. Her eyes catch Miniyal's presence immediately, though she'd unruffled by at the unexpected company. A smile springs up, small and polite, and that will have to serve as a greeting, for she continues on to place her hides in the return basket without even the slightest faltering. Slender fingers straighten one stack of hides, then places them down, the two scrolls falling on top of them. "I'd heard you'd quit," Issa notes, glancing over her shoulder at the former recordskeeper. She then proceeds to straighten the whole stack of hides in the basket idly, pushing them gently into line before she turns her full regard on Miniyal.
The arrival of someone else pulls Miniyal from whatever cloud of thoughts she has allowed to take her away. Not as safe as it could be before with all the evils running about. There is some blinking as she focuses on Issa and a nod of her head serves as a hello. At the comment she doesn't do or say anything. It was not a question, after all. Merely a statement. However, it does seem to deserve some comment. So, she nods once more. "Oh, umm. Yes. It did not work out. Such things occur. You're returning I see? You do read a lot. That is good." Well, she'd know who took out what since she watches the book. Well, did watch the book that noted such things.
"I suppose I do," Issa replies, her smile taking on a slightly different curve, one that conveys equal parts amusement and polite deference. She settles comfortably into the quiet that follows, using the pause to meander over to the nearest set of shelves, crossing her arms and leaning one shoulder up against the wooden brace. "I'm sorry to hear it, though," she says then, as she still watches Miniyal. "You were good at it. As much as I loath the three record rule." She rounds her tone with a playful twist, a twist which quickly fades away as she continues, giving way, instead, to a more serious nonchalance. "Have you thrown in your lot to become the new Weyrleader's assistant yet?"
"To be honest? It will run fine without me. The system is in place. All those who are here are trained in it and they can train the new people," Miniyal says with a smile. "If the Headwoman chooses a successor then you can always speak to him about raising the number of records allowed out. I've given my list of recommendations. If they are taken then whomever it is will continue to let things go as they are. At least." One eyebrow raises, well, attempts to raise. It's an expression Miniyal has never been able to master, but she tries it anyway every now and again to see if perhaps she can. "The new weyrleader's assistant? I was not aware he sought one. And I've no desire to serve as anyone's assistant anymore. Those days are behind me. This mess of political murders and machinations concern me not anymore. The weyr will fall if nothing changes, but the changes people seem to be trying will only bring it about more swiftly. I choose to remain away from all involved."
The greenrider's head tilts, dropping into the new angle with a painfully slow and calculated motion, still letting her gaze linger on Miniyal. "Oh, I don't know if he's after an assistant, really," Issa explains, doling out a conversational sort of kindness, light fluff smoothing over any political insinuations. "I just thought that since you performed so well in Igen that G'thon might have recommended you." Common knowledge or no, Issa seems to have come by this tidbit somehow. She gauges the response to her casual remarks with little more than an eye flick, her gaze then wandering to peruse the little tags of the hides that dangle across the shelves. She sighs then, the needling edge to her words dissolving in that sudden exhalation. "But I agree with you. The wrong changes indeed. But make no mistake, you should be concerned," and her eyes return with all speed to pin the woman where she sits. "Remaining neutral is more of a choice than you may realize."
Eyes narrowing, Miniyal regards Issa steadily, her gaze not wavering. "The ex-weyrleader sent me to Igen with a message. It was a sealed message. I was not privy to what it was. I have done such things in the past for Diya. He asked and so I did as I had no reason not to." Head tilting to the side she folds her hands atop the table she sits at. "If you're implying I had any foreknowledge of events than you may ease your mind. I did not." Shaking her head slowly she lets out a sigh. "I am aware /now/ of what that message most likely contained. However, I did take a message. I would have not done that to Diya." Another sigh and she frowns gently. "I am neutral in this. I choose neither side for neither side seems to be doing things I agree with. I am not important, Issa. I work in the records room and keep to myself. My opinion does not matter in this and so I have none."
Artfully mastering that expression which Miniyal tried to accomplish earlier, Issa arches a single eyebrow at the response. "I'm glad to hear that," is what she offers for this new information in regards to Igen, a quiet and subtle sincerity sinking into her voice as she renews her study of the younger woman's face. The smoldering snap to her delivery softens and her smile takes on a less feigned pleasantness. "You're looking at it in black and white," she notes with a slight shake of her head, no condemnation or approval, just observation. "Myself, I've always thought that grey was the more appealing shade. So many more choices." Issa pauses briefly and untucks one hand to contemplate her cuticles. "Would you have your opinion matter? Or do you not even care that much what happens to our Weyr?"
Oh, sure, it's easy for /some/ to do it. Some people just can't master the small intricacies of facial features. "People are being murdered in the grey world," Miniyal points out quietly. "People are being hurt. Dragons being killed. As I was telling-" Oh, stop here. A name was going to be said perhaps? And instead she stops for a moment before continuing. "Well, I just think that this grey world is not doing anyone much good, is it? And I do care for what happens here. This is my home where I was born. But if getting involved in this mess makes it seem I do not care then so be it. There is no one I want to side with here. There should be no death. There should be no. . .trouble. There are ways to get what one wants without resorting to such low things." Blackmail for instance. Not that it is said out loud. "And, mostly? My mother and father could wind up hurt for my actions. So I take none to protect them."
Issa's jaw clenches, a mild grimace twisting her smile at the mention of murder, and it's a few seconds at least before she can school herself to a controlled evenness, lips thinned by the effort. She listens attentively, refraining from comment until Miniyal has had her say. "I can respect that," the greenrider finally responds, careful to choose her words, "I know the sentiment of wanting to protect, I do. But I can't agree that disinterest is the best course." Slowly, her hand finds it's place again and she lifts her eyes to watch the former head of records. "There's still room between the black and white, room in the grey to find a more peaceful route. To get things back to the way they should have been." Unfocused, she lets her eyes drift down to the table in front of Miniyal, as if carving out there the world she wishes to see. "Peace doesn't come without effort," she murmurs, but pointedly, still lost in her little reverie.
Much is missed by the former head of records. She's quite adept at just not noticing the expressions of others or the emotions that might be behind them. It can make life easier and more difficult at the same time. "I did not claim I was disinterested," she corrects softly. "I said I was not willing to risk the lives of my parents. That I was not willing to choose sides. I will not work with or for the current administration because I feel their stealing the weyr was wrong. It was a travesty. However, the people who oppose them? The ones who will smash eggs and harm people? Kill them to leave a message? I want /nothing/ to do with those people. I will make my own way. If I must do it alone then so be it. But until I find a group of people I agree with I remain on my own."
Though Issa had raised her eyes to watch Miniyal as she spoke, they're hidden once again as the force of her sudden grin turns her gaze, chin dropped as she ducks her head slightly. The amusment in her voice glitters crystal clear when she says, "You should learn to look more carefully, Miniyal. I'm disappointed that you didn't learn more from Diya. Maybe when she returns, you can have another go at being her mentee." That it's a tease is evident, but as there often is with this one, something more lurks under the surface of the offhand conversation. With her head still lowered, pale blue eyes peek up to catch what response she's able to spark.
"You presume I want to learn anything else from her," Miniyal says with ease, pulling her hands into her lap where the rest, fingers tightly laced together. She tilts her chin up and for a few brief seconds looks sure of herself and confident. Just long enough to say, "I've my own life to live." The moment passes after that and she looks down at the table again as if that last sentence was not spoken. "Even I hear the rumors that Nenuith has risen where Diya is. And it takes little in the way of brains to figure out exactly where that is. She might return here. And what? Be junior under Sinopa? Because even if someone manages to remove Yevide it is a sure bet that Citalth would rise first. No, I am not even convinced she will return. I wish her no harm, but I am not convinced she is going to be a force here. I wish her luck if she is, but there will be just as many who will be unhappy with her. It's a troubling time we live in and the only safe course I see to take is one of, remaining distant."
Slowly, with every word Miniyal utters, Issa's expression hardens. Her grin is the first to die. A frown is it's replacement, just a tender flinch at first, but it grows to a full scowl in short time. As a final touch, her eyes thin as they peer across at the homely woman sitting there. Of course, this is probably all wasted on Miniyal. "Valid points," she concedes coolly. Gracefully, she lifts herself from her lean, careful to not disturb the records by more than rustling the tags with the breeze of her movement. "I hope that in doing so, you don't distance yourself from that which you seek as well. But I won't take up more of your busy time." She takes only a couple steps toward the door, though, before she pauses, turns back to Miniyal again. "What /do/ you intend to do now?" she questions, innocently curious. "Now that you've left this." One hand indicates the comforting crowd of records surrounding them.
The shifting from pleasant to other is missed, yes. A glance upwards shows the destination and Miniyal nearly flinches, stopping just shy and lacing unseen fingers together more tightly in her lap. "I am sorry you did not find the answers in here you expected," she says quietly. "I cannot play that game. Diya knows that better than anyone. I cannot champion anyone right now. Perhaps there will come a shift in my steps down the line, but throwing in with any lot? Not possible." Sitting up straighter she frowns at that last question. "That's what everyone wants to know," is her answer, given with a brief smile that comes nowhere near her eyes. "Should I come up with an answer then people will see. For now, well, it's not as if it really matters in the grand scheme of things if I do nothing beyond replace hides once they are returned." There's a pause and as she looks off towards the shelves there is a shrug, followed by a brief moment of total honesty. "I am nothing special, Issa. It has always been my place to sit quietly and let those who are accomplish things. I can help no one until I know who I am now. Good evening."
"It doesn't matter what a greenrider does either. Or so they tell me." Issa's expression has quieted to something more near the polite poise that she entered with by now and her words fall from her lips lightly once again. "I wish you luck, then, Miniyal. If nothing else, I hear they're always looking for help in the kitchens." The sweetness in her voice blooms behind a bitter smile, and she renews her progress toward the door. "Have a good night," is passed back over her shoulder, almost carelessly, as she leaves the room.
Miniyal lets all remarks go without trying to say anything. There is clearly nothing else to say. She does wait until the greenrider is gone before standing and moving back into the shelves where she remains for the next several hours.
Where: Records Room, HRW
When: 22:40 on day 18, month 5, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Issa has questions to which Miniyal provides unsatisfactory answers
As Head of Records no one is interested. If she had known resigning would get her this much attention I imagine, lie or no, she would have remained in place.
9/8/2006
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 22:40 on day 18, month 5, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
Someone is not supposed to be here. The headwoman demanded of Miniyal after she resigned that she stay away for two days and ponder her future. But, that does not mean that Miniyal is going to stay away. Perish the thought! Instead she sits alone as no one else is about this time of night. Rather than work, she sits still, staring at nothing at all. There is not even work in front of her to pretend to be doing. She just sits. Wasting time.
Quite promptly, Issa has returned almost exactly a sevenday since she last borrowed her customary three packets of hides. She seems unworried by the fact that this isn't an hour one would normally pay a visit to the records room, and swings around the edge of the door with a comfortable, if weary, pace. Her eyes catch Miniyal's presence immediately, though she'd unruffled by at the unexpected company. A smile springs up, small and polite, and that will have to serve as a greeting, for she continues on to place her hides in the return basket without even the slightest faltering. Slender fingers straighten one stack of hides, then places them down, the two scrolls falling on top of them. "I'd heard you'd quit," Issa notes, glancing over her shoulder at the former recordskeeper. She then proceeds to straighten the whole stack of hides in the basket idly, pushing them gently into line before she turns her full regard on Miniyal.
The arrival of someone else pulls Miniyal from whatever cloud of thoughts she has allowed to take her away. Not as safe as it could be before with all the evils running about. There is some blinking as she focuses on Issa and a nod of her head serves as a hello. At the comment she doesn't do or say anything. It was not a question, after all. Merely a statement. However, it does seem to deserve some comment. So, she nods once more. "Oh, umm. Yes. It did not work out. Such things occur. You're returning I see? You do read a lot. That is good." Well, she'd know who took out what since she watches the book. Well, did watch the book that noted such things.
"I suppose I do," Issa replies, her smile taking on a slightly different curve, one that conveys equal parts amusement and polite deference. She settles comfortably into the quiet that follows, using the pause to meander over to the nearest set of shelves, crossing her arms and leaning one shoulder up against the wooden brace. "I'm sorry to hear it, though," she says then, as she still watches Miniyal. "You were good at it. As much as I loath the three record rule." She rounds her tone with a playful twist, a twist which quickly fades away as she continues, giving way, instead, to a more serious nonchalance. "Have you thrown in your lot to become the new Weyrleader's assistant yet?"
"To be honest? It will run fine without me. The system is in place. All those who are here are trained in it and they can train the new people," Miniyal says with a smile. "If the Headwoman chooses a successor then you can always speak to him about raising the number of records allowed out. I've given my list of recommendations. If they are taken then whomever it is will continue to let things go as they are. At least." One eyebrow raises, well, attempts to raise. It's an expression Miniyal has never been able to master, but she tries it anyway every now and again to see if perhaps she can. "The new weyrleader's assistant? I was not aware he sought one. And I've no desire to serve as anyone's assistant anymore. Those days are behind me. This mess of political murders and machinations concern me not anymore. The weyr will fall if nothing changes, but the changes people seem to be trying will only bring it about more swiftly. I choose to remain away from all involved."
The greenrider's head tilts, dropping into the new angle with a painfully slow and calculated motion, still letting her gaze linger on Miniyal. "Oh, I don't know if he's after an assistant, really," Issa explains, doling out a conversational sort of kindness, light fluff smoothing over any political insinuations. "I just thought that since you performed so well in Igen that G'thon might have recommended you." Common knowledge or no, Issa seems to have come by this tidbit somehow. She gauges the response to her casual remarks with little more than an eye flick, her gaze then wandering to peruse the little tags of the hides that dangle across the shelves. She sighs then, the needling edge to her words dissolving in that sudden exhalation. "But I agree with you. The wrong changes indeed. But make no mistake, you should be concerned," and her eyes return with all speed to pin the woman where she sits. "Remaining neutral is more of a choice than you may realize."
Eyes narrowing, Miniyal regards Issa steadily, her gaze not wavering. "The ex-weyrleader sent me to Igen with a message. It was a sealed message. I was not privy to what it was. I have done such things in the past for Diya. He asked and so I did as I had no reason not to." Head tilting to the side she folds her hands atop the table she sits at. "If you're implying I had any foreknowledge of events than you may ease your mind. I did not." Shaking her head slowly she lets out a sigh. "I am aware /now/ of what that message most likely contained. However, I did take a message. I would have not done that to Diya." Another sigh and she frowns gently. "I am neutral in this. I choose neither side for neither side seems to be doing things I agree with. I am not important, Issa. I work in the records room and keep to myself. My opinion does not matter in this and so I have none."
Artfully mastering that expression which Miniyal tried to accomplish earlier, Issa arches a single eyebrow at the response. "I'm glad to hear that," is what she offers for this new information in regards to Igen, a quiet and subtle sincerity sinking into her voice as she renews her study of the younger woman's face. The smoldering snap to her delivery softens and her smile takes on a less feigned pleasantness. "You're looking at it in black and white," she notes with a slight shake of her head, no condemnation or approval, just observation. "Myself, I've always thought that grey was the more appealing shade. So many more choices." Issa pauses briefly and untucks one hand to contemplate her cuticles. "Would you have your opinion matter? Or do you not even care that much what happens to our Weyr?"
Oh, sure, it's easy for /some/ to do it. Some people just can't master the small intricacies of facial features. "People are being murdered in the grey world," Miniyal points out quietly. "People are being hurt. Dragons being killed. As I was telling-" Oh, stop here. A name was going to be said perhaps? And instead she stops for a moment before continuing. "Well, I just think that this grey world is not doing anyone much good, is it? And I do care for what happens here. This is my home where I was born. But if getting involved in this mess makes it seem I do not care then so be it. There is no one I want to side with here. There should be no death. There should be no. . .trouble. There are ways to get what one wants without resorting to such low things." Blackmail for instance. Not that it is said out loud. "And, mostly? My mother and father could wind up hurt for my actions. So I take none to protect them."
Issa's jaw clenches, a mild grimace twisting her smile at the mention of murder, and it's a few seconds at least before she can school herself to a controlled evenness, lips thinned by the effort. She listens attentively, refraining from comment until Miniyal has had her say. "I can respect that," the greenrider finally responds, careful to choose her words, "I know the sentiment of wanting to protect, I do. But I can't agree that disinterest is the best course." Slowly, her hand finds it's place again and she lifts her eyes to watch the former head of records. "There's still room between the black and white, room in the grey to find a more peaceful route. To get things back to the way they should have been." Unfocused, she lets her eyes drift down to the table in front of Miniyal, as if carving out there the world she wishes to see. "Peace doesn't come without effort," she murmurs, but pointedly, still lost in her little reverie.
Much is missed by the former head of records. She's quite adept at just not noticing the expressions of others or the emotions that might be behind them. It can make life easier and more difficult at the same time. "I did not claim I was disinterested," she corrects softly. "I said I was not willing to risk the lives of my parents. That I was not willing to choose sides. I will not work with or for the current administration because I feel their stealing the weyr was wrong. It was a travesty. However, the people who oppose them? The ones who will smash eggs and harm people? Kill them to leave a message? I want /nothing/ to do with those people. I will make my own way. If I must do it alone then so be it. But until I find a group of people I agree with I remain on my own."
Though Issa had raised her eyes to watch Miniyal as she spoke, they're hidden once again as the force of her sudden grin turns her gaze, chin dropped as she ducks her head slightly. The amusment in her voice glitters crystal clear when she says, "You should learn to look more carefully, Miniyal. I'm disappointed that you didn't learn more from Diya. Maybe when she returns, you can have another go at being her mentee." That it's a tease is evident, but as there often is with this one, something more lurks under the surface of the offhand conversation. With her head still lowered, pale blue eyes peek up to catch what response she's able to spark.
"You presume I want to learn anything else from her," Miniyal says with ease, pulling her hands into her lap where the rest, fingers tightly laced together. She tilts her chin up and for a few brief seconds looks sure of herself and confident. Just long enough to say, "I've my own life to live." The moment passes after that and she looks down at the table again as if that last sentence was not spoken. "Even I hear the rumors that Nenuith has risen where Diya is. And it takes little in the way of brains to figure out exactly where that is. She might return here. And what? Be junior under Sinopa? Because even if someone manages to remove Yevide it is a sure bet that Citalth would rise first. No, I am not even convinced she will return. I wish her no harm, but I am not convinced she is going to be a force here. I wish her luck if she is, but there will be just as many who will be unhappy with her. It's a troubling time we live in and the only safe course I see to take is one of, remaining distant."
Slowly, with every word Miniyal utters, Issa's expression hardens. Her grin is the first to die. A frown is it's replacement, just a tender flinch at first, but it grows to a full scowl in short time. As a final touch, her eyes thin as they peer across at the homely woman sitting there. Of course, this is probably all wasted on Miniyal. "Valid points," she concedes coolly. Gracefully, she lifts herself from her lean, careful to not disturb the records by more than rustling the tags with the breeze of her movement. "I hope that in doing so, you don't distance yourself from that which you seek as well. But I won't take up more of your busy time." She takes only a couple steps toward the door, though, before she pauses, turns back to Miniyal again. "What /do/ you intend to do now?" she questions, innocently curious. "Now that you've left this." One hand indicates the comforting crowd of records surrounding them.
The shifting from pleasant to other is missed, yes. A glance upwards shows the destination and Miniyal nearly flinches, stopping just shy and lacing unseen fingers together more tightly in her lap. "I am sorry you did not find the answers in here you expected," she says quietly. "I cannot play that game. Diya knows that better than anyone. I cannot champion anyone right now. Perhaps there will come a shift in my steps down the line, but throwing in with any lot? Not possible." Sitting up straighter she frowns at that last question. "That's what everyone wants to know," is her answer, given with a brief smile that comes nowhere near her eyes. "Should I come up with an answer then people will see. For now, well, it's not as if it really matters in the grand scheme of things if I do nothing beyond replace hides once they are returned." There's a pause and as she looks off towards the shelves there is a shrug, followed by a brief moment of total honesty. "I am nothing special, Issa. It has always been my place to sit quietly and let those who are accomplish things. I can help no one until I know who I am now. Good evening."
"It doesn't matter what a greenrider does either. Or so they tell me." Issa's expression has quieted to something more near the polite poise that she entered with by now and her words fall from her lips lightly once again. "I wish you luck, then, Miniyal. If nothing else, I hear they're always looking for help in the kitchens." The sweetness in her voice blooms behind a bitter smile, and she renews her progress toward the door. "Have a good night," is passed back over her shoulder, almost carelessly, as she leaves the room.
Miniyal lets all remarks go without trying to say anything. There is clearly nothing else to say. She does wait until the greenrider is gone before standing and moving back into the shelves where she remains for the next several hours.