Log: Weird
Who: Devan, Milani
When: Afternoon, 5/21/19
Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani, ninja matchmaker strikes again with handyman Devan!
Afternoon in any Weyr's main caverns is gonna be pretty busy. Reaches doesn't disappoint. Whether they're taking an early dinner or a late lunch or simply taking the time out of their day to sit and chat while they have an opportunity, the crowd currently murmuring here and there in the living cavern lends the large room an odd sort of frantic energy. Seems impossible to find calm in such an environment, yet there Devan sits, alone at a table, toying with the hinges of a small dark jewelry box that looks almost ridiculous in his hands.
Contributing to the busy air, the Headwoman comes through with her clipboard and two assistants on her heels. "... you take the rest of these," she tells one of them, passing over a few slips of paper from the clipboard, "and Alieva, this list for the kitchen," she notes and takes a breath. "And we should be /about/ set." So saying, she leans up against Devan's table, down near the end of it and sets her clipboard down to take a short break.
If it's one thing Devan's become very good at being aware and wary of it's any group of women counting more than two. If it's three it's possible to get out alive. More than that and you're a dead man. Especially when they're in the mood for organizing or delegating or doing any of those kinds of administrative things. Luckily for him he's good at being completely likeable. Upon finding himself no longer as alone as he was a second ago, he grins his easy grin and greets, "Well hey there, boss lady."
Milani blinks a couple of times and turns a little, spots Devan and laughs lightly. "Well hello there, Devan. How's things? Busily working, or busily taking a break?" she asks with a little nod towards his jewelry box.
Dark eyes crinkle at the corners when his grin turns impish. Caught. "Can a fella not be doin' both of those things?" Since she brings it into exhibit with her nod, Devan lifts the box in one hand just enough for it to be a gesture of sorts. Here it is. "I thought it was kinda pretty." And, while considering the little thing with his warm regard, he adds, "One lady's trash..."
"Could be," Milani replies with a quick-flashed smile. "And I wouldn't doubt you capable," the headwoman continues, one hand dropping to pick the clipboard back up. She nods to the next chair over from the handyman. "Mind if I sit? And isn't that the way of things in the Weyr? All about re-using and being smart about supplies and resources," she says with a little laugh.
The look Devan gives the headwoman is mild and something like surprised. Exactly. Rather than simply tell her she can sit there, he goes so far as to stretch one long arm out to pull it from the table and grins at her, squinty-eyed again. "The hinges're squeaky." The thumb of his other hand pushes up on the lid of the box for demonstration. The noise produced is the tinny screech of metal against metal. "Corners're all chipped too." His grin grows. "I like projects."
"I'll bet you'll get that all sorted out in no time flat," Milani tells Devan confidently, smile warm as she drops into that chair and sets her clipboard down again. "How're the doors on Store Rooms A and B coming along, speaking of projects?"
It was only a matter of time, really. All business again. Devan looks almost sad to see it come, but it /is/ his job. So he'll straighten up a little and set the box down, oh-so-carefully, so that he can address properly. "Top shelf, I cut the rot away'n sealed the wood. Lookin' real good." Cheeky when he glances over at her, he makes sure to quip, "Thought you were gonna give me a challenge."
"If we /had/ any big challenges right now, I'd be sure to give you one," Milani counters with a quick grin. "And that, that's just for fun or do you have a destination in mind for it when you've done the repairs?" Back to the box in Devan's hands, the headwoman's head tilting curiously.
The eyeroll doesn't mock or express sarcasm; it simply affects an air of 'oh, sure'. Acting disappointed only holds its appeal for so long though, then Devan's putting back his quick smile and reaching for the box again. "Mm. I just don't know yet. Why?" Another glance over. "You got a girl lined up for me?" Nevermind his big goofy grin with all those white teeth and the way his eyebrows go up all hopeful like.
"Half a dozen," Milani quips back about girls, elbow to table and chin into hand, grinning at the handyman widely. "But no, just curious if /you'd/ settled on one yourself yet," she says laughingly.
"Oh, please." Because as always in any bantering of any kind, Devan's almost always the one to back out first. And it's always with that goofy grin in place, and it's always accompanied by looking away and down at something. Too shy, maybe. Regarding the box again, his shoulder shrugs. "Nah." And then he moves up, to the ceiling of the cavern with an unreadable something going on in his expression. "I'm not any good at talkin' t'girls."
"Some of them don't necessarily want a man who talks," Milani says bluntly with a meaningful look for the handyman and a broad wink. Her fingertips pluck at the edge of a page on her clipboard, eyeing that traveling look of Devan's. "If you want to though, could always practice. I mean, I'm a girl and you don't have trouble talking to me, right?"
Devan's first and only response to that is a bashful choking noise that might have been a laugh had he not strangled it. His voice, too, sounds a bit thick, like he's trying not to let the laugh come out despite its best efforts. "Jays, woman." Her suggestion does make him chuckle, finally, which might not have been the desired result. "Sorta different when the girl's my boss," he'll have her know.
"Ye-es, and I'm still a woman," Milani counters determinely, suddenly flutters her eyelashes at him. "What, don't think I can act un-boss-like?" Which he ought to know /very/ well that she can.
"Oh I know you can act un-boss-like." Which he delivers and puts his eyes to their corners so he can give her a little look. Maybe not personally, but he /knows/. He'd have an easier time meeting her eyes if he could just stop fidgeting. And after he realizes he's opening and closing the lid of the box over and over again he comments casually, "This is startin' t'feel about right."
"Mmhm, well, anyway. I can give you a list of names, or set you up," Milani says more straightforwardly, sitting up a little. "The box? Or talking?" she winks at him and eyes his fidgeting, the box, for a second.
"Oh, no. Please." That right there, the thing he gives her, is practically a wince, his face all screwed up. "I don't wanna make some poor girl all uncomfortable'n Faranth knows it would be. I just... get..." Puzzled, Devan lets his eyes wander again. Lamely, "Weird."
"Maybe, maybe not, depends on the girl, doesn't it?" Milani claims, fingers drumming lightly against her cheek. "Anyway, only cure for that weird is practice." Back to that again.
"Ha. No, it's like..." Uncertain look over, small amount of hesitance, finally a decision. When Devan turns his body to better face Milani he kind of looms a little. It isn't his fault, it's the genes. "I can talk t'you no problem, right? But soon's I know the girl's-- or I'm--" Add in some very vague hand gestures and clicking of the bracelets on his wrist and the oh-so-eager-to-explain look on his face and the whole thing might be pretty amusing.
"When there's interest, you get tongue-tied and awkward," Milani fills in, eyes on Devan's face, nodding assumed understanding. "Hmm. That /is/ a little trickier," she has to concede, finger tapping at her upper lip.
When: Afternoon, 5/21/19
Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani, ninja matchmaker strikes again with handyman Devan!
Afternoon in any Weyr's main caverns is gonna be pretty busy. Reaches doesn't disappoint. Whether they're taking an early dinner or a late lunch or simply taking the time out of their day to sit and chat while they have an opportunity, the crowd currently murmuring here and there in the living cavern lends the large room an odd sort of frantic energy. Seems impossible to find calm in such an environment, yet there Devan sits, alone at a table, toying with the hinges of a small dark jewelry box that looks almost ridiculous in his hands.
Contributing to the busy air, the Headwoman comes through with her clipboard and two assistants on her heels. "... you take the rest of these," she tells one of them, passing over a few slips of paper from the clipboard, "and Alieva, this list for the kitchen," she notes and takes a breath. "And we should be /about/ set." So saying, she leans up against Devan's table, down near the end of it and sets her clipboard down to take a short break.
If it's one thing Devan's become very good at being aware and wary of it's any group of women counting more than two. If it's three it's possible to get out alive. More than that and you're a dead man. Especially when they're in the mood for organizing or delegating or doing any of those kinds of administrative things. Luckily for him he's good at being completely likeable. Upon finding himself no longer as alone as he was a second ago, he grins his easy grin and greets, "Well hey there, boss lady."
Milani blinks a couple of times and turns a little, spots Devan and laughs lightly. "Well hello there, Devan. How's things? Busily working, or busily taking a break?" she asks with a little nod towards his jewelry box.
Dark eyes crinkle at the corners when his grin turns impish. Caught. "Can a fella not be doin' both of those things?" Since she brings it into exhibit with her nod, Devan lifts the box in one hand just enough for it to be a gesture of sorts. Here it is. "I thought it was kinda pretty." And, while considering the little thing with his warm regard, he adds, "One lady's trash..."
"Could be," Milani replies with a quick-flashed smile. "And I wouldn't doubt you capable," the headwoman continues, one hand dropping to pick the clipboard back up. She nods to the next chair over from the handyman. "Mind if I sit? And isn't that the way of things in the Weyr? All about re-using and being smart about supplies and resources," she says with a little laugh.
The look Devan gives the headwoman is mild and something like surprised. Exactly. Rather than simply tell her she can sit there, he goes so far as to stretch one long arm out to pull it from the table and grins at her, squinty-eyed again. "The hinges're squeaky." The thumb of his other hand pushes up on the lid of the box for demonstration. The noise produced is the tinny screech of metal against metal. "Corners're all chipped too." His grin grows. "I like projects."
"I'll bet you'll get that all sorted out in no time flat," Milani tells Devan confidently, smile warm as she drops into that chair and sets her clipboard down again. "How're the doors on Store Rooms A and B coming along, speaking of projects?"
It was only a matter of time, really. All business again. Devan looks almost sad to see it come, but it /is/ his job. So he'll straighten up a little and set the box down, oh-so-carefully, so that he can address properly. "Top shelf, I cut the rot away'n sealed the wood. Lookin' real good." Cheeky when he glances over at her, he makes sure to quip, "Thought you were gonna give me a challenge."
"If we /had/ any big challenges right now, I'd be sure to give you one," Milani counters with a quick grin. "And that, that's just for fun or do you have a destination in mind for it when you've done the repairs?" Back to the box in Devan's hands, the headwoman's head tilting curiously.
The eyeroll doesn't mock or express sarcasm; it simply affects an air of 'oh, sure'. Acting disappointed only holds its appeal for so long though, then Devan's putting back his quick smile and reaching for the box again. "Mm. I just don't know yet. Why?" Another glance over. "You got a girl lined up for me?" Nevermind his big goofy grin with all those white teeth and the way his eyebrows go up all hopeful like.
"Half a dozen," Milani quips back about girls, elbow to table and chin into hand, grinning at the handyman widely. "But no, just curious if /you'd/ settled on one yourself yet," she says laughingly.
"Oh, please." Because as always in any bantering of any kind, Devan's almost always the one to back out first. And it's always with that goofy grin in place, and it's always accompanied by looking away and down at something. Too shy, maybe. Regarding the box again, his shoulder shrugs. "Nah." And then he moves up, to the ceiling of the cavern with an unreadable something going on in his expression. "I'm not any good at talkin' t'girls."
"Some of them don't necessarily want a man who talks," Milani says bluntly with a meaningful look for the handyman and a broad wink. Her fingertips pluck at the edge of a page on her clipboard, eyeing that traveling look of Devan's. "If you want to though, could always practice. I mean, I'm a girl and you don't have trouble talking to me, right?"
Devan's first and only response to that is a bashful choking noise that might have been a laugh had he not strangled it. His voice, too, sounds a bit thick, like he's trying not to let the laugh come out despite its best efforts. "Jays, woman." Her suggestion does make him chuckle, finally, which might not have been the desired result. "Sorta different when the girl's my boss," he'll have her know.
"Ye-es, and I'm still a woman," Milani counters determinely, suddenly flutters her eyelashes at him. "What, don't think I can act un-boss-like?" Which he ought to know /very/ well that she can.
"Oh I know you can act un-boss-like." Which he delivers and puts his eyes to their corners so he can give her a little look. Maybe not personally, but he /knows/. He'd have an easier time meeting her eyes if he could just stop fidgeting. And after he realizes he's opening and closing the lid of the box over and over again he comments casually, "This is startin' t'feel about right."
"Mmhm, well, anyway. I can give you a list of names, or set you up," Milani says more straightforwardly, sitting up a little. "The box? Or talking?" she winks at him and eyes his fidgeting, the box, for a second.
"Oh, no. Please." That right there, the thing he gives her, is practically a wince, his face all screwed up. "I don't wanna make some poor girl all uncomfortable'n Faranth knows it would be. I just... get..." Puzzled, Devan lets his eyes wander again. Lamely, "Weird."
"Maybe, maybe not, depends on the girl, doesn't it?" Milani claims, fingers drumming lightly against her cheek. "Anyway, only cure for that weird is practice." Back to that again.
"Ha. No, it's like..." Uncertain look over, small amount of hesitance, finally a decision. When Devan turns his body to better face Milani he kind of looms a little. It isn't his fault, it's the genes. "I can talk t'you no problem, right? But soon's I know the girl's-- or I'm--" Add in some very vague hand gestures and clicking of the bracelets on his wrist and the oh-so-eager-to-explain look on his face and the whole thing might be pretty amusing.
"When there's interest, you get tongue-tied and awkward," Milani fills in, eyes on Devan's face, nodding assumed understanding. "Hmm. That /is/ a little trickier," she has to concede, finger tapping at her upper lip.