Log: Commons Chit Chat
Who: Gustav, Milani, Quevonne
When: It is a summer afternoon, 16:30 of day 21, month 6, turn 21 of Interval 10.
Where: Commons, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani and Quevonne get in a little girl-chat until Gustav comes along when childcare and manhood come into question.
Quevonne
Neither tall nor short, Quevonne a young adult, perhaps in her early twenties. A dark olive skin is paired with dark, doelike brown eyes and prettily-arched eyebrows over wide, flat cheeks. Her bone structure is, at best, 'delicate', though she has avoided fragility by the cunning application of good meals, frequently applied. Vonne's voice is surprisingly low for a woman's, nearly tenor in tone, but well-trained and soothing. Dark blonde hair, the color of cider, has been gathered into a thick plait at the base of her skull. The braid twists slightly as it falls to just below her shoulder blades.
Currently she wears a cotton dress dyed dark brown. Ecru ribbons trim the hems of skirt and sleeve alike; more sensible ribbons of black lace up the bodice. Its sleeves end just above her elbow while hem of skirt brushes against the ankles of her comfortable low black boots. A wide belt about her waist holds several pouches, all securely fastened, as well as a belt knife.
Milani
Tall at somewhere just shy of six feet with a head of strawberry blonde hair, Milani tends to stick out in a crowd. Her well-balanced figure boasts decidedly feminine curves, rather than the angularity that often goes along with such height. Her features are on the 'cute' side with a small, slightly upturned nose scattered with freckles across the bridge and a wide, full mouth. Eyes of a singular blue-green shade might draw attention in a pleasantly oval face that's saved from too much softness by a sharp chin.
Currently very pregnant, Milani dresses in comfortable floaty shirts and skirts as summer starts to swing into full gear. Likewise, lace-up shoes are abandoned in favor of a pair of slip-on clogs, supportive and cushy for tired feet.
Gustav
Irreverent, impertinent, cheeky? Yet somehow still sort of adorable and likable? Well that's just Gustav and the general energy he emits from his person. His jaw is wide and face a little roundish, his nose is on the thin side with some generous flaring of his nostrils. Overall, his features are run of the mill except for his delightful brown eyes that crinkle up in the corners at any hint of humor. Oh, and his generous smile that's eager to appear and pull the corners of his mischievous lips up.
A knit cap is pulled down tight over brown hair that's a touch too long, and curling up at the ends. He wears a clean jacket, dark blue and carelessly buttoned halfway up to expose the white shirt underneath. Plain linen pants lead down slender legs to a pair of heavy boots that have seen more than their share of wear and tear.
A lovely summer day and yet some people are still inside, whether from chores, personal preference, or some other reason. One of those is Quevonne, still new but not entirely unfamiliar face around the lower caverns. Today she's not accompanied by sister-in-law or baby, but drops into one of the armchairs with a grateful sigh, letting her basket of laundry rest a moment on her lap.
Next armchair over is Milani, already sitting with her feet up, a cool drink at and and the beads of her abacus clicking away as she whizzes through sums and marks up a ledger. Even while 'taking a break' the headwoman is rarely unbusy. The squoosh of the chair as Quevonne sits and her sigh bring blue-green eyes up to focus on one of the Weyr's more recent denizens and she smiles over at the other woman. "That little nephew of yours tiring you out, or has the laundry gotten out of hand today?" she queries in good humor.
Quevonne opens her eyes and straightens off the back of the chair, automatic smile already turned the Headwoman's way. "Both, I think. Andrev was up before the sun this morning, and it's been run, run, run ever since. Feels like this is the first chance I've had to sit since breakfast." A nod for the abacus even as she reaches in to pull out socks, draping the unmatched over the edge of her basket. "What are you working on, ma'am? It's Quevonne," she adds half-apologetically. "Vincent and Sygrid's family."
"I guess that's what I have to look forward to in a turn and change," Milani says with a little laugh and pencils something alongside one column. "Checking over the ledgers and accounts from late spring, keeping it all in order, I guess you could say," the headwoman explains her work and her smile tilts, going lopsided at one corner. "Yes, I know who you are. Settling in all right around the family things?"
"A little less, I think," says Quevonne after a considering look at what she can see of Milani's middle. "Andrev's only about five months old. It's just that he's never slept very well. Hopefully in a few months...." She trails off, leaving the wish unfinished. "More or less, thank you, ma'am. It's quite different from where I grew up, as I was telling one of the riders. At least I don't feel like there's something new every time I turn around anymore!" Laughing, at the end.
"Oh well no, see, it'll be at least a turn until this one is /running/ around," Milani answers from her deep seat in one of the armchairs, feet up on a stool, ledger draped across not so much her lap but her basketball-shaped belly. Her pencil taps lightly at the page she's working on, abacus set atop the one opposite. "Though I'll hope for a better sleeper," the headwoman continues, this comment directed towards Quevonne in the next chair over, both of these not in the vicinity of the hearth, but further back. "Well that's good, I'm sure it's a big culture shock coming to the Weyr from a hold," Milani says sympathetically.
Quevonne finds a matching sock - hurrah! - and deftly folds the cuffs of the pair together before tossing them back into the basket. "Sygrid says Andrev's the worst she's had so far," like that's supposed to be a comfort. "Still, it can't last forever. How long until you're due?" Ah, woman talk.
He emerges from the resident quarters a sleepy, groggy mess. His hair is mussed up and he's just now pulling his hat down over the mess of it, only serving to make him look slightly more presentable. The sight of two women (so what if one is pregnant?) out in the common room stirs him to look a little more lively, but he could obviously use a little pick-me-up. "Hello, beautiful creatures. How're we today is the uh..." Gustav's eyes switch from sock matching and then to the abacus. "Clothes sorting and mathamatics?" Nevermind that they don't actually know him.
"Just around two months, maybe a little more," Milani tells Quevonne and eyes the ledger as it shifts a little, disturbed by a powerful kick. "And none too soon either, they way he or she is starting to get," she adds with a laugh, then looks up at Gustav's sleepy-eyed, mussed approach. Given that the headwoman pretty much knows everyone or at least /about/ everyone in the lower caverns, it might not be a surprise when she greets him with a cheery: "Hello Gustav. Just getting up?" Which could be teasing. "And yes, ledgers from the spring," another tap tap of her pencil to said accounting book.
Quevonne arches an eyebrow at Gustav's welcome, the other quickly following suit as she takes him in from head to... somewhere lower than his head. She murmurs a polite, "Good afternoon," and returns her attention to her laundry and the headwoman, barely repressing a smile when the baby wants more room. "Do you want one more than the other? I don't suppose it matters, here, if you have a boy first or not."
"Mmm, yes, headwoman. I got a very early start on the morning so I figured I would get a much later start on the afternoon to make up for it." Gustav sinks down into one of the nearby chairs, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking like he's going to curl up into a man-sized ball. "Ledgers from the spring. Sounds about as exciting as..." One hand escapes from his body ball and gestures, though he doesn't come up with a good comparison. "Something. Something very boring." Quevonne is given a head to toe look, though his eye roaming is probably a little more obvious than her own.
"Oh no, haven't really thought about it too much except to get some names thought out for one of each," Milani says blithely to Quevonne and grins across the way at Gustav. "Only if you don't like math, which I do, so no, it's not boring at all." She squints at the young man for a moment then hazards: "Did you wind up on first shift kitchen, this morning or something?"
Quevonne keeps one incredulous eye on Gustav as she continues to fold, her hands moving automatically and with barely a glance down except when socks need matching. "Don't you like math, then? I don't remember seeing you in the kitchens." A glance over to Milani encourages a smile and adding, "Of course, with as many people as the Weyr has, I think I could meet a new person every day for a turn and still not have met everyone."
Despite the fatigue, Gustav still has enough spunk to send Milani broad grin. "I think was in the kitchens but I wasn't on shift, exactly. Though I do seem to remember helping... bake something." The quirky smile shifts towards Quevonne and then back on over to the Headwoman. "I might not have been in there long, either. It's really sort of up in the air. It's the present that counts anyway, right? Not the past?" He lifts his shoulders as if he's helpless to whatever circumstances gripped him the night before. To sock-matcher, "So, you're not from the weyr then?"
"There are a lot of people in a Weyr," Milani agrees, "and in pretty close quarters too, though of course, not nearly so many as there are in a really big hold." The headwoman eyes Gustav with a slightly purse-lipped expression though there's also a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Don't remember what you did. Tsk. And not there long ... we'll have to see about making sure you've got a chore assignment for both mornings /and/ afternoons," she mock-threatens with widened 'innocent' eyes made at the fellow then she smiles at both and gestures with her free hand. "This is Quevonne, Gustav. She's here helping out family. Quevonne, this is Gustav, who hasn't figured himself out yet. I think."
"If you don't have a past, you don't have a future," Quevonne puts in, amused despite her words. "It's our past that makes us who we are." Another pair of socks falls before her, and she inclines her head toward Gustav with a polite, "Well met. My sister-in-law Sygrid works in the kitchens too. And no, I'm from a little holding about halfway between River Bend and Pars. West of here," she adds, without gesturing. "What about you, Headwoman? Did I hear you are born and raised at the Weyr?"
"Says you. What I say is," And Gustav points a finger towards Quevonne. "It's present circumstances that dictate your future. It's what you're doing right now, not what you did ten minutes ago that's important." His finger wiggles and then his arm folds across his chest comfortably. For the mock threat he turns equally big eyes on the headwoman, his expression similar to a very sad puppy. "Oh /no/, Milani. Please don't give me morning duties." He twists around in the armchair until he's leaning over the one side, dangerously. "Please! I'll do anything. And I mean anything."
"Yep, born and raised right here," Milani says with a bright beaming grin. "My parents are both riders and I grew up between their weyr and these caverns," she gestures around one-handed again. "And I'm not sure if it's true about the whole not having a past thing. I mean, sometimes you can start over fresh and ditch your past and still have a future." The sad puppy expression earns dancing eyes and a broad grin as Millie props her elbow up on the chair's arm and regards Gustav steadily. "You know, I am /very/ wise to that look," she notes with the slow blink of eye lashes over a suddenly similar expression. "Does anything include afternoon latrine cleaning?" she asks with exaggerated perkiness and renewed, feigned innocence.
"Yes, says me," says Quevonne, unruffled by either the disagreement or the pointing finger. "If you, oh, drank fellis ten minutes ago it certainly -is- going to affect your future." She quiets, though, to listen to Milani's fencing with a faint, amused smile, bending to set the basket on the floor at her feet to free her lap for larger items, like a man's shirt. "He could take care of Andrev too," she chimes in, lips twitching. "A sevenday of him and he'd take it all back."
Was it mentioned that he was leaning dangerously over the edge of the chair? When Milani returns his puppy-dog eyes with puppy-dog eyes of her own, he beams at her. "Anything. If you want me to clean the latrines, I'll clean them until they smell just like flowers." And with circumstances as they are, it's impossible for him to focus his attention on just one them. It's the turning of his head and the shift of his body that results in him falling completely out of the chair. He lands safely on the floor though, on his back. There's an oompf before he coughs carefully. It delays him only a little and he keeps talking like he didn't just fall. "Andrev? I like kids. Kids like me. We'd have a great time."
Slowly tilting along with Gustav's lean, Milani's head winds up at almost a 90-degree angle. "Well sure, that's immediate past affecting immediate future but you know 'a past' that kind of made me think of things being shady," the headwoman tells Quevonne, then blinks as Gustav takes that tumble. "Oh dear. You okay?" Then she's laughing as he starts up with the talking again. "Well, if you like kids, how about a seven of afternoons in the nursery?"
Gustav falls and Quevonne's eyebrows leap for the ceiling again; she doesn't rush from her chair but neither does she bend to find another item to fold until his claim of utter good health. "Andrev's a baby," she clarifies for him. "About five months old, doesn't sleep very well." Doesn't he just sound delightful. She turns the same eyebrows on Milani. "Do you often... assume things or people are shady, Weyrwoman? It's been a few days, so I suppose it's time for me to be surprised by something about the Weyr again."
"Very true, that is immediate past affecting immediate future." Gustav wiggles backwards and props himself up onto his elbows, head leaned against the side of the arm chair. "A baby? I like babies too. They're gooey and gushy and make great sound effects." He glances over towards Milani, one eyebrow lifting. "Is this a challange? To see if I can really handle children, a test of my man-hood? I'll take it. I'll be like a nurse...man. You know, instead of a nurse maid."
"Well that's usually what people mean when they start talking about people's pasts," Milani says with a little lift of her brows Quevonne's way. "So it's not really /my/ assumption," the headwoman notes with a little bit of further quirky brow movement then she's laughing at what Gustav says again, chin tucking downward, clearly very amused. "Maaaybe a test. I mean, you know, a guy who can handle babies with his manhood and pride unscathed, that speaks pretty well for him, doesn't it?" Her grin is bright as she absently chews on the end of her pencil for a second. "Hmm. Nurse-man. Nurse-guy. Nurse-lad?" that's all deadpan but /has/ to be teasing, doesn't it?
"/I/ don't mean that," Quevonne answers promptly, volleying the ball back into the Headwoman's court. "And... ma'am, I don't want to be rude, but." She glances at Gustav, taking in his casual sprawl with a certain amount of discomfort. "These are /babies/. Someone's children. I don't really think their care should be handed off on a whim, as a, a /game/, to someone who won't take it seriously." Quite the good opinion she has of Gustav. To the man himself, "Do you have any experience with children? Younger brothers, sisters?"
"I'll come out of the next sevenday with my manhood shining like a newly polished trophy. You'll all be very impressed and much easier swayed by masculine charms." A carefully calculated waggle of his eyebrows is sent towards Milani first and then to Quevonne, accompanied by what's supposed to be a charming little smile. It's schooled away to a more crestfallen one at her comments. "Are you suggesting that I'm somehow unqualified to take care of the children of others? That I'd endanger them? Not care for them? Allow them to cry and cry their little hearts out while I flirted with the regular nurses?" Gustav huffs and makes an over-exaggerated face of indignation. "I'll have you know that I myself have fathered and cared for no less than twelve children in my twenty-two turns. I didn't consider that a game and neither do I consider my new found duties a game."
"A whim?" Milani looks over at Quevonne, surprised and shakes her head. "Teasing doesn't add up to whim and you've seen the nursery and children's caverns, Quevonne. He wouldn't be any kind of unsupervised and that's really the best way to learn if you don't know already," she points out quite reasonably. Gustav's claims though about both the fathering and care of children earn him a /look/. "You don't look old enough for that," she points out. "And I'm not sure that 'shiny' is a good quality for manhood. Kind of scary-sounding actually." She flips the ledger closed onto the abacus though and with a little bit of a struggle pulls a notepad out of her pocket, writes down a note. "A seven's worth of afternoon shifts. Report to Zaira tomorrow for it and her word is law in there," she warns the young man with a little look over at him.
Another quirk of her eyebrows and Quevonne tells Gustav flatly, "Yes. I am." Claims about the half-wing he's personally fathered go sailing right over her head while she fetches out another shirt to fold, though she gives a little half-shake at Milani's subsequent orders. "You're the Headwoman, ma'am." Sleeves folded in, she tucks the shirt itself into a tidy packet before glancing back at Gustav for a polite, "Where are you from?"
Gustav half-smirks when the headwoman sees through his cover story of being the father of twelve children. He brushes back some insistent curly locks of hair from his forehead. "Report to Zaira, her word is law. Don't come out too shiney. Got it, ma'am." Despite the flat tone and quirk of her eyebrows, he smiles pleasently at Quevonne before remarking over his shoulder. "There's a lot of unhappy, judgemental women here. Why is that?" The polite question of his origins is pointedly ignored when he glances back at her.
Quevonne gets a brief look for those remarks, but Milani just tucks her notepad aside and flips the ledger open again, starts to mark it up. Gustav's query brings her gaze back up though and she snorts softly. "No more than anywhere else I don't think. Maybe you've just gotten unlucky with whom you've met," the headwoman notes to the young man with a little grin. "I'm perfectly happy for one and most of my friends are too that I know of."
There's only so much folding a woman can do before she's down to socks that need matching, and with a little sigh, Quevonne brings the basket back to her lap to do just that. "Where are you from, Gustav?" she tries again, voice pitched just a smidgen louder this time while his own question gets to lie there on the floor and twitch. In case it helps, her brown eyes are fastened square on the hatted man: yes, she's talking to him. Not the Gustav on the other side of the room.
"It's possible. But I do like to think that I'm a particularly lucky guy." Gustav grins cheekily as he moves from elbows to hands and begins to bring himself slowly but steadily to his feet. Acting as if he hadn't really heard her before, he turns in the holder's direction to give her a curious look. "Hmm? Oh, well. That's really all a case of the immediate again. I'm from High Reaches."
Pencil moving briskly, Milani's abacus starts to click again as she lets some of the tension that started to infuse the conversation die out a natural death. "Why lucky?" is the headwoman's curious question for the young man though she shoots him an amused glance for his answer to Quevonne's question.
"Weyr, or Hold?" asks Quevonne, hard on Milani's heels. Half a second later she's frowning down at the basket, and with a flip of a hand, sends the few remaining socks back into their container as she gets to her feet. "Bother. If you'll excuse me," a distracted smile for both of them, though she's clearly not going to wait for permission, "It was nice to finally meet you properly, ma'am. Gustav." He gets a nod and then the blonde's heading for one of the residential tunnels, basket tucked on her hip.
"Weyr. Like I said, immediate..." But then she's getting up and leaving hurriedly. He waves cheerfully at her back. "So long, Quevonne! Lovely meeting you!" He watches her leave before shifting his attention more fully onto Milani, eyes briefly settling onto the abacus. "I think just happen to be lucky. Nothing really terrible has happened to met yet. Of course nothing really good has happened either. So I suppose I'm just thankful for my middle of the road existence."
Up comes Milani's gaze again as Quevonne deals with the socks and takes the basket up to her hip. "Oh! Of course, and do let me know if you need anything," she tells the blonde sincerely, waving as she heads out. Gustav's remark sees Milani sitting back in her chair a bit and a wince passes across her face, hand sneaking down under the ledger to rub at her tummy. "Hm. So being average is lucky in your book. Interesting," the headwoman says slowly. "I think I'm lucky to have all the good things in my life right now."
He stretches his arms high above his head, excenuating his lean form unconsciously. "Being average is pretty lucky. If I was above average there'd always be that whole fear of falling off the pedestal thing. I'm sort of afraid of heights, so." Gustav grins wryly at her as he shoves his hands into his trouser-pockets. "That's a good outlook to have. People should always be grateful for what's going right."
Propping her chin up on her hand, Milani listens to this with interest. "So ... better not to reach too high, that's your life philosophy?" she inquires at the tail end of it and smiles. "Mm. Sometimes it's hard for people to see things as going right though sometimes."
"Exactly. And in addition I live a life a relatively annonymous life." Gustav straightens the cap on his head and steps away backwards. "Sometimes. Luckily, again, I think that I can see that too. Thanks for the new job, game or not. Congratulations on your baby." He winks at her ducks into the nearest cavern as way of an exit. Apparently he doesn't seem too inclined on proper farewells.
"True," Milani answers for anonymity and smiles, wiggles her fingers at him. "I'm sure you'll do fine and if you don't, I'll hear about it and we can try something else." Chipper again and she bobs her head in thanks, waves more fully as he ducks out, laughing as he goes and back to work for her, the clicking of the abacus ushering the young man out.
When: It is a summer afternoon, 16:30 of day 21, month 6, turn 21 of Interval 10.
Where: Commons, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani and Quevonne get in a little girl-chat until Gustav comes along when childcare and manhood come into question.
Quevonne
Neither tall nor short, Quevonne a young adult, perhaps in her early twenties. A dark olive skin is paired with dark, doelike brown eyes and prettily-arched eyebrows over wide, flat cheeks. Her bone structure is, at best, 'delicate', though she has avoided fragility by the cunning application of good meals, frequently applied. Vonne's voice is surprisingly low for a woman's, nearly tenor in tone, but well-trained and soothing. Dark blonde hair, the color of cider, has been gathered into a thick plait at the base of her skull. The braid twists slightly as it falls to just below her shoulder blades.
Currently she wears a cotton dress dyed dark brown. Ecru ribbons trim the hems of skirt and sleeve alike; more sensible ribbons of black lace up the bodice. Its sleeves end just above her elbow while hem of skirt brushes against the ankles of her comfortable low black boots. A wide belt about her waist holds several pouches, all securely fastened, as well as a belt knife.
Milani
Tall at somewhere just shy of six feet with a head of strawberry blonde hair, Milani tends to stick out in a crowd. Her well-balanced figure boasts decidedly feminine curves, rather than the angularity that often goes along with such height. Her features are on the 'cute' side with a small, slightly upturned nose scattered with freckles across the bridge and a wide, full mouth. Eyes of a singular blue-green shade might draw attention in a pleasantly oval face that's saved from too much softness by a sharp chin.
Currently very pregnant, Milani dresses in comfortable floaty shirts and skirts as summer starts to swing into full gear. Likewise, lace-up shoes are abandoned in favor of a pair of slip-on clogs, supportive and cushy for tired feet.
Gustav
Irreverent, impertinent, cheeky? Yet somehow still sort of adorable and likable? Well that's just Gustav and the general energy he emits from his person. His jaw is wide and face a little roundish, his nose is on the thin side with some generous flaring of his nostrils. Overall, his features are run of the mill except for his delightful brown eyes that crinkle up in the corners at any hint of humor. Oh, and his generous smile that's eager to appear and pull the corners of his mischievous lips up.
A knit cap is pulled down tight over brown hair that's a touch too long, and curling up at the ends. He wears a clean jacket, dark blue and carelessly buttoned halfway up to expose the white shirt underneath. Plain linen pants lead down slender legs to a pair of heavy boots that have seen more than their share of wear and tear.
A lovely summer day and yet some people are still inside, whether from chores, personal preference, or some other reason. One of those is Quevonne, still new but not entirely unfamiliar face around the lower caverns. Today she's not accompanied by sister-in-law or baby, but drops into one of the armchairs with a grateful sigh, letting her basket of laundry rest a moment on her lap.
Next armchair over is Milani, already sitting with her feet up, a cool drink at and and the beads of her abacus clicking away as she whizzes through sums and marks up a ledger. Even while 'taking a break' the headwoman is rarely unbusy. The squoosh of the chair as Quevonne sits and her sigh bring blue-green eyes up to focus on one of the Weyr's more recent denizens and she smiles over at the other woman. "That little nephew of yours tiring you out, or has the laundry gotten out of hand today?" she queries in good humor.
Quevonne opens her eyes and straightens off the back of the chair, automatic smile already turned the Headwoman's way. "Both, I think. Andrev was up before the sun this morning, and it's been run, run, run ever since. Feels like this is the first chance I've had to sit since breakfast." A nod for the abacus even as she reaches in to pull out socks, draping the unmatched over the edge of her basket. "What are you working on, ma'am? It's Quevonne," she adds half-apologetically. "Vincent and Sygrid's family."
"I guess that's what I have to look forward to in a turn and change," Milani says with a little laugh and pencils something alongside one column. "Checking over the ledgers and accounts from late spring, keeping it all in order, I guess you could say," the headwoman explains her work and her smile tilts, going lopsided at one corner. "Yes, I know who you are. Settling in all right around the family things?"
"A little less, I think," says Quevonne after a considering look at what she can see of Milani's middle. "Andrev's only about five months old. It's just that he's never slept very well. Hopefully in a few months...." She trails off, leaving the wish unfinished. "More or less, thank you, ma'am. It's quite different from where I grew up, as I was telling one of the riders. At least I don't feel like there's something new every time I turn around anymore!" Laughing, at the end.
"Oh well no, see, it'll be at least a turn until this one is /running/ around," Milani answers from her deep seat in one of the armchairs, feet up on a stool, ledger draped across not so much her lap but her basketball-shaped belly. Her pencil taps lightly at the page she's working on, abacus set atop the one opposite. "Though I'll hope for a better sleeper," the headwoman continues, this comment directed towards Quevonne in the next chair over, both of these not in the vicinity of the hearth, but further back. "Well that's good, I'm sure it's a big culture shock coming to the Weyr from a hold," Milani says sympathetically.
Quevonne finds a matching sock - hurrah! - and deftly folds the cuffs of the pair together before tossing them back into the basket. "Sygrid says Andrev's the worst she's had so far," like that's supposed to be a comfort. "Still, it can't last forever. How long until you're due?" Ah, woman talk.
He emerges from the resident quarters a sleepy, groggy mess. His hair is mussed up and he's just now pulling his hat down over the mess of it, only serving to make him look slightly more presentable. The sight of two women (so what if one is pregnant?) out in the common room stirs him to look a little more lively, but he could obviously use a little pick-me-up. "Hello, beautiful creatures. How're we today is the uh..." Gustav's eyes switch from sock matching and then to the abacus. "Clothes sorting and mathamatics?" Nevermind that they don't actually know him.
"Just around two months, maybe a little more," Milani tells Quevonne and eyes the ledger as it shifts a little, disturbed by a powerful kick. "And none too soon either, they way he or she is starting to get," she adds with a laugh, then looks up at Gustav's sleepy-eyed, mussed approach. Given that the headwoman pretty much knows everyone or at least /about/ everyone in the lower caverns, it might not be a surprise when she greets him with a cheery: "Hello Gustav. Just getting up?" Which could be teasing. "And yes, ledgers from the spring," another tap tap of her pencil to said accounting book.
Quevonne arches an eyebrow at Gustav's welcome, the other quickly following suit as she takes him in from head to... somewhere lower than his head. She murmurs a polite, "Good afternoon," and returns her attention to her laundry and the headwoman, barely repressing a smile when the baby wants more room. "Do you want one more than the other? I don't suppose it matters, here, if you have a boy first or not."
"Mmm, yes, headwoman. I got a very early start on the morning so I figured I would get a much later start on the afternoon to make up for it." Gustav sinks down into one of the nearby chairs, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking like he's going to curl up into a man-sized ball. "Ledgers from the spring. Sounds about as exciting as..." One hand escapes from his body ball and gestures, though he doesn't come up with a good comparison. "Something. Something very boring." Quevonne is given a head to toe look, though his eye roaming is probably a little more obvious than her own.
"Oh no, haven't really thought about it too much except to get some names thought out for one of each," Milani says blithely to Quevonne and grins across the way at Gustav. "Only if you don't like math, which I do, so no, it's not boring at all." She squints at the young man for a moment then hazards: "Did you wind up on first shift kitchen, this morning or something?"
Quevonne keeps one incredulous eye on Gustav as she continues to fold, her hands moving automatically and with barely a glance down except when socks need matching. "Don't you like math, then? I don't remember seeing you in the kitchens." A glance over to Milani encourages a smile and adding, "Of course, with as many people as the Weyr has, I think I could meet a new person every day for a turn and still not have met everyone."
Despite the fatigue, Gustav still has enough spunk to send Milani broad grin. "I think was in the kitchens but I wasn't on shift, exactly. Though I do seem to remember helping... bake something." The quirky smile shifts towards Quevonne and then back on over to the Headwoman. "I might not have been in there long, either. It's really sort of up in the air. It's the present that counts anyway, right? Not the past?" He lifts his shoulders as if he's helpless to whatever circumstances gripped him the night before. To sock-matcher, "So, you're not from the weyr then?"
"There are a lot of people in a Weyr," Milani agrees, "and in pretty close quarters too, though of course, not nearly so many as there are in a really big hold." The headwoman eyes Gustav with a slightly purse-lipped expression though there's also a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Don't remember what you did. Tsk. And not there long ... we'll have to see about making sure you've got a chore assignment for both mornings /and/ afternoons," she mock-threatens with widened 'innocent' eyes made at the fellow then she smiles at both and gestures with her free hand. "This is Quevonne, Gustav. She's here helping out family. Quevonne, this is Gustav, who hasn't figured himself out yet. I think."
"If you don't have a past, you don't have a future," Quevonne puts in, amused despite her words. "It's our past that makes us who we are." Another pair of socks falls before her, and she inclines her head toward Gustav with a polite, "Well met. My sister-in-law Sygrid works in the kitchens too. And no, I'm from a little holding about halfway between River Bend and Pars. West of here," she adds, without gesturing. "What about you, Headwoman? Did I hear you are born and raised at the Weyr?"
"Says you. What I say is," And Gustav points a finger towards Quevonne. "It's present circumstances that dictate your future. It's what you're doing right now, not what you did ten minutes ago that's important." His finger wiggles and then his arm folds across his chest comfortably. For the mock threat he turns equally big eyes on the headwoman, his expression similar to a very sad puppy. "Oh /no/, Milani. Please don't give me morning duties." He twists around in the armchair until he's leaning over the one side, dangerously. "Please! I'll do anything. And I mean anything."
"Yep, born and raised right here," Milani says with a bright beaming grin. "My parents are both riders and I grew up between their weyr and these caverns," she gestures around one-handed again. "And I'm not sure if it's true about the whole not having a past thing. I mean, sometimes you can start over fresh and ditch your past and still have a future." The sad puppy expression earns dancing eyes and a broad grin as Millie props her elbow up on the chair's arm and regards Gustav steadily. "You know, I am /very/ wise to that look," she notes with the slow blink of eye lashes over a suddenly similar expression. "Does anything include afternoon latrine cleaning?" she asks with exaggerated perkiness and renewed, feigned innocence.
"Yes, says me," says Quevonne, unruffled by either the disagreement or the pointing finger. "If you, oh, drank fellis ten minutes ago it certainly -is- going to affect your future." She quiets, though, to listen to Milani's fencing with a faint, amused smile, bending to set the basket on the floor at her feet to free her lap for larger items, like a man's shirt. "He could take care of Andrev too," she chimes in, lips twitching. "A sevenday of him and he'd take it all back."
Was it mentioned that he was leaning dangerously over the edge of the chair? When Milani returns his puppy-dog eyes with puppy-dog eyes of her own, he beams at her. "Anything. If you want me to clean the latrines, I'll clean them until they smell just like flowers." And with circumstances as they are, it's impossible for him to focus his attention on just one them. It's the turning of his head and the shift of his body that results in him falling completely out of the chair. He lands safely on the floor though, on his back. There's an oompf before he coughs carefully. It delays him only a little and he keeps talking like he didn't just fall. "Andrev? I like kids. Kids like me. We'd have a great time."
Slowly tilting along with Gustav's lean, Milani's head winds up at almost a 90-degree angle. "Well sure, that's immediate past affecting immediate future but you know 'a past' that kind of made me think of things being shady," the headwoman tells Quevonne, then blinks as Gustav takes that tumble. "Oh dear. You okay?" Then she's laughing as he starts up with the talking again. "Well, if you like kids, how about a seven of afternoons in the nursery?"
Gustav falls and Quevonne's eyebrows leap for the ceiling again; she doesn't rush from her chair but neither does she bend to find another item to fold until his claim of utter good health. "Andrev's a baby," she clarifies for him. "About five months old, doesn't sleep very well." Doesn't he just sound delightful. She turns the same eyebrows on Milani. "Do you often... assume things or people are shady, Weyrwoman? It's been a few days, so I suppose it's time for me to be surprised by something about the Weyr again."
"Very true, that is immediate past affecting immediate future." Gustav wiggles backwards and props himself up onto his elbows, head leaned against the side of the arm chair. "A baby? I like babies too. They're gooey and gushy and make great sound effects." He glances over towards Milani, one eyebrow lifting. "Is this a challange? To see if I can really handle children, a test of my man-hood? I'll take it. I'll be like a nurse...man. You know, instead of a nurse maid."
"Well that's usually what people mean when they start talking about people's pasts," Milani says with a little lift of her brows Quevonne's way. "So it's not really /my/ assumption," the headwoman notes with a little bit of further quirky brow movement then she's laughing at what Gustav says again, chin tucking downward, clearly very amused. "Maaaybe a test. I mean, you know, a guy who can handle babies with his manhood and pride unscathed, that speaks pretty well for him, doesn't it?" Her grin is bright as she absently chews on the end of her pencil for a second. "Hmm. Nurse-man. Nurse-guy. Nurse-lad?" that's all deadpan but /has/ to be teasing, doesn't it?
"/I/ don't mean that," Quevonne answers promptly, volleying the ball back into the Headwoman's court. "And... ma'am, I don't want to be rude, but." She glances at Gustav, taking in his casual sprawl with a certain amount of discomfort. "These are /babies/. Someone's children. I don't really think their care should be handed off on a whim, as a, a /game/, to someone who won't take it seriously." Quite the good opinion she has of Gustav. To the man himself, "Do you have any experience with children? Younger brothers, sisters?"
"I'll come out of the next sevenday with my manhood shining like a newly polished trophy. You'll all be very impressed and much easier swayed by masculine charms." A carefully calculated waggle of his eyebrows is sent towards Milani first and then to Quevonne, accompanied by what's supposed to be a charming little smile. It's schooled away to a more crestfallen one at her comments. "Are you suggesting that I'm somehow unqualified to take care of the children of others? That I'd endanger them? Not care for them? Allow them to cry and cry their little hearts out while I flirted with the regular nurses?" Gustav huffs and makes an over-exaggerated face of indignation. "I'll have you know that I myself have fathered and cared for no less than twelve children in my twenty-two turns. I didn't consider that a game and neither do I consider my new found duties a game."
"A whim?" Milani looks over at Quevonne, surprised and shakes her head. "Teasing doesn't add up to whim and you've seen the nursery and children's caverns, Quevonne. He wouldn't be any kind of unsupervised and that's really the best way to learn if you don't know already," she points out quite reasonably. Gustav's claims though about both the fathering and care of children earn him a /look/. "You don't look old enough for that," she points out. "And I'm not sure that 'shiny' is a good quality for manhood. Kind of scary-sounding actually." She flips the ledger closed onto the abacus though and with a little bit of a struggle pulls a notepad out of her pocket, writes down a note. "A seven's worth of afternoon shifts. Report to Zaira tomorrow for it and her word is law in there," she warns the young man with a little look over at him.
Another quirk of her eyebrows and Quevonne tells Gustav flatly, "Yes. I am." Claims about the half-wing he's personally fathered go sailing right over her head while she fetches out another shirt to fold, though she gives a little half-shake at Milani's subsequent orders. "You're the Headwoman, ma'am." Sleeves folded in, she tucks the shirt itself into a tidy packet before glancing back at Gustav for a polite, "Where are you from?"
Gustav half-smirks when the headwoman sees through his cover story of being the father of twelve children. He brushes back some insistent curly locks of hair from his forehead. "Report to Zaira, her word is law. Don't come out too shiney. Got it, ma'am." Despite the flat tone and quirk of her eyebrows, he smiles pleasently at Quevonne before remarking over his shoulder. "There's a lot of unhappy, judgemental women here. Why is that?" The polite question of his origins is pointedly ignored when he glances back at her.
Quevonne gets a brief look for those remarks, but Milani just tucks her notepad aside and flips the ledger open again, starts to mark it up. Gustav's query brings her gaze back up though and she snorts softly. "No more than anywhere else I don't think. Maybe you've just gotten unlucky with whom you've met," the headwoman notes to the young man with a little grin. "I'm perfectly happy for one and most of my friends are too that I know of."
There's only so much folding a woman can do before she's down to socks that need matching, and with a little sigh, Quevonne brings the basket back to her lap to do just that. "Where are you from, Gustav?" she tries again, voice pitched just a smidgen louder this time while his own question gets to lie there on the floor and twitch. In case it helps, her brown eyes are fastened square on the hatted man: yes, she's talking to him. Not the Gustav on the other side of the room.
"It's possible. But I do like to think that I'm a particularly lucky guy." Gustav grins cheekily as he moves from elbows to hands and begins to bring himself slowly but steadily to his feet. Acting as if he hadn't really heard her before, he turns in the holder's direction to give her a curious look. "Hmm? Oh, well. That's really all a case of the immediate again. I'm from High Reaches."
Pencil moving briskly, Milani's abacus starts to click again as she lets some of the tension that started to infuse the conversation die out a natural death. "Why lucky?" is the headwoman's curious question for the young man though she shoots him an amused glance for his answer to Quevonne's question.
"Weyr, or Hold?" asks Quevonne, hard on Milani's heels. Half a second later she's frowning down at the basket, and with a flip of a hand, sends the few remaining socks back into their container as she gets to her feet. "Bother. If you'll excuse me," a distracted smile for both of them, though she's clearly not going to wait for permission, "It was nice to finally meet you properly, ma'am. Gustav." He gets a nod and then the blonde's heading for one of the residential tunnels, basket tucked on her hip.
"Weyr. Like I said, immediate..." But then she's getting up and leaving hurriedly. He waves cheerfully at her back. "So long, Quevonne! Lovely meeting you!" He watches her leave before shifting his attention more fully onto Milani, eyes briefly settling onto the abacus. "I think just happen to be lucky. Nothing really terrible has happened to met yet. Of course nothing really good has happened either. So I suppose I'm just thankful for my middle of the road existence."
Up comes Milani's gaze again as Quevonne deals with the socks and takes the basket up to her hip. "Oh! Of course, and do let me know if you need anything," she tells the blonde sincerely, waving as she heads out. Gustav's remark sees Milani sitting back in her chair a bit and a wince passes across her face, hand sneaking down under the ledger to rub at her tummy. "Hm. So being average is lucky in your book. Interesting," the headwoman says slowly. "I think I'm lucky to have all the good things in my life right now."
He stretches his arms high above his head, excenuating his lean form unconsciously. "Being average is pretty lucky. If I was above average there'd always be that whole fear of falling off the pedestal thing. I'm sort of afraid of heights, so." Gustav grins wryly at her as he shoves his hands into his trouser-pockets. "That's a good outlook to have. People should always be grateful for what's going right."
Propping her chin up on her hand, Milani listens to this with interest. "So ... better not to reach too high, that's your life philosophy?" she inquires at the tail end of it and smiles. "Mm. Sometimes it's hard for people to see things as going right though sometimes."
"Exactly. And in addition I live a life a relatively annonymous life." Gustav straightens the cap on his head and steps away backwards. "Sometimes. Luckily, again, I think that I can see that too. Thanks for the new job, game or not. Congratulations on your baby." He winks at her ducks into the nearest cavern as way of an exit. Apparently he doesn't seem too inclined on proper farewells.
"True," Milani answers for anonymity and smiles, wiggles her fingers at him. "I'm sure you'll do fine and if you don't, I'll hear about it and we can try something else." Chipper again and she bobs her head in thanks, waves more fully as he ducks out, laughing as he goes and back to work for her, the clicking of the abacus ushering the young man out.