Our heroine goes to war. . .well, plays chess.
Who: Miniyal and J'cor
Where: Weyrleader's weyr
When: 20:43 on day 22, month 11, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Not either ready or able to return to her room after talking to B'ren Miniyal goes on another visit to the weyrleader. They drink much klah, play chess, and discuss all sorts of things including poetry.
12/3/2006 & 12/4/2006
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 20:43 on day 22, month 11, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
It's about the usual time for her to show up. As if they have some schedule when it's really random and just when she feels like it or is forced to be removed from her room. Tonight Miniyal's steps are slower than before. Not because she's nervous or trying to think of what to say, but because her hands are full. After helping scrub pots in the kitchen she ran to stores and then back to the kitchen. Well, walked. Now she's standing outside the door with a jug in one hand and a basket in the other. Staring at them both she frowns as if trying to decide how she /is/ going to knock. The ends of her hair are still damp from her clean up work and while no snow or rain greeted her dash across the bowl the cold was enough to make her hurry and wish she'd thought to fetch a coat. Finally she gives up on the knocking and just lifts her voice to call out, "Excuse me? Sir? Are you there?"
No response. On his side of the door, J'cor lies stretched out on his couch, propping a book in front of him and puffing predictably away at his pipe. It's Karth who catches the sound, the bronze lifting his chin off the edge of the couch; the whirling of his eyes, slowed almost to a stop by his boredom, suddenly speeds up. J'cor glances at him, then at the door, then rolls up off the couch and sets his book down on the small table. Obedient to his dragon's whims, he answers the door, but it's clearly a surprise for him to actually find someone there. "Oh! Miniyal." He pulls a quick smile onto his face, pulling the door back to make room. Catching sight of the basket and jug, he twists a hand upwards, an offer. "May I help you with any of that?"
"Yes, thank you!" The first words she offers and out goes the jug. "Fresh klah. If you don't like it or want it that's fine, but I'm freezing." Which is all her own fault for making the trek. Once the jug is taken she hefts her basket. "Cups, sweetener, fresh sweet rolls, and tucked into the bottom, claimed from stores an old chess set." Biting her lip it's only now Miniyal smiles and asks, "So, umm. Want to play?" Only once she's asked the question does she step inside. "And if not can I at least warm up before facing the cold again? I mean, you know, if are not too busy." Not that she expects him to be since he never has been, but manners. Well, and because he might be one never knows.
J'cor is entirely busy at times. Just not at these times. He takes the jug with quiet breath of a chuckle, waiting till she's through before he closes the door behind her. "Ah. You've taken the pressure off me, as host, to provide refreshment. And a fortunate thing you did, since I have none." He gives the jug a small tilt back and forth, then passes her on his way back to the sitting area, though he opts for an armchair rather than the couch this time. "I should certainly enjoy a game," he muses, looking at the table. He sets the jug down and his pipe (carefully) next to it, brushing his book off to a corner where it won't get in the way. "And I do have the time. Will this set-up do?" He looks back at her with a thin hint of a smile: aside from his own clutter, the table is low, and will require some serious leaning in order to move pieces around the board.
Miniyal carries her basket over to the table and sets it down. "Well, I figured since I was invading you without warning it was the least I can do. If I'd sent notice beforehand then you would have been expected to provide something." She smiles at this, manners lesson over. Looking at the table and the chair and the couch she shrugs and sits down on the floor. Well. . .so much for manners. Unpacking the basket she sets out the cups carefully and then the covered plate with the sweet rolls. The latter is left where they both might reach it. The sweetener and even a spoon is set by the cups. Once she's gotten all this out she removes the chess board. One of those travel type ones with the pieces inside the box. Opening it she lays out the pieces before flipping the box over and starting to set up the board. "I should warn you. I am not good at this game. And I don't seem to be getting any better no matter how often I play."
J'cor shakes his head, bemused, when she chooses the floor, but for his part he'll preserve dignity: he picks an armchair, dragging it a small ways across the floor so he can sit opposite her. "Then I'll have a fighting chance. I played this game often enough when young, but I'm afraid I've lost the habit. And I was no master of it then," he admits wryly, reaching to take one of the cups she set out. Since she's handling the board set-up, he takes charge of the refreshment, pouring for both of them. He leaves the choice of sweetener up to her, however, reaching across to set her unsweetened cup off to the side of the table, where it won't interfere with her reach for the board.
Once the board is set up, Miniyal laughs quietly, briefly. "I play several times a week and I am still. . .horrid. Well, it's a learning experience. We'll get you back into fighting shape on the board." Because she assumes, it seems, they'll be playing again and again. Such a demanding person. She does take sweetener in her klah, adding a few spoons of it and stirring gently, no spoon clinking. Then she sets the spoon down and gestures to the board. "Light or dark? You're the host so you get to choose." Technically the host although she took it upon herself to assume so many of the duties of the host. Pushy and demanding. "I hope the evening finds you well. What were you reading?" Of course she noticed the book.
J'cor reaches out absently to the book, flipping it over so the title faces up. Not that the title is helpful: "Deyole" is all that it says, and J'cor repeats it anyway. "Deyole." It has three syllables, as it turns out. "A ballad that circulated widely during the third Pass, though it has died out today. The text itself is rather short, but densely packed. I find the scribe's afterword very illuminating." Taking his klah, he adds a bit of sweetener, though his spoon pauses on the way to stirring in order to gesture at the black pieces. "I'll be dark." A distraction: in the next moment, he's back to the casual pleasantries. "And how does your evening find you?"
I got suckered into scrubbing pots in the kitchen. Other than that it's not so bad. I've lost my room to a caucus student again." Miniyal shakes her head and turns the board so the dark pieces are on his side. "I don't think I know that one. Is it good? What's it about? I love old stories. My dad, Navan, he used to tell me them all the time when I was growing up. Stuff he'd come across in his work or overheard." Before moving her piece she takes a sip from her klah. "I will never get how someone can prefer tea over klah." Setting her cup down she reaches out while frowning at the board and moving one of her pawns forward. "Have you read a lot about chess? I've read everything I can find on it and I still can't win."
J'cor must, thanks to his prideful choice of the armchair, bend practically double in order to reach his pieces. Though Karth's injury - and the bronze, for his part, is watching this game intently but quietly from his couch - has removed the need for constant exercise, the Weyrleader remains in fair shape; he grimaces faintly at the doubled position, but that's all. "I haven't. Should I?" His smile flickers briefly as he slides his own pawn forward, meeting her own face-to-face. Leaning back, he flicks a glance at Deyole. "I enjoy Deyole, but the ballads of the Third Pass have a particular style which can be distracting. Pared down, it is about the young Lord of an invented hold. In trying to prove himself worthy of his father's legacy, he oversteps himself and nearly loses his Hold to the connivings of an evil uncle."
Miniyal looks at the board as if it all has changed. Well, it has all changed, but not by much. Chewing on her lower lip she frowns and looks over the whole thing. "I don't know. It doesn't seem to help me. There's a logical way the game can progress, but no one seems to follow it which is weird. I mean, you make a move and the other person has so many options and they make one and you counter with another set move and. . .and that's it. But no one does that." Another pawn is moved. "Deyole. I will have to remember that so I can find a copy. It sounds interesting. I like poetry. Older stuff especially. I find the more recent stuff lacks a lot of lyricism. Like just anyone thinks they can string words together and get published and be a poet. As if."
J'cor does not lift his gaze from the board, but an eyebrow goes up at her complaints about the unpredictability of chess. Perhaps because his next move, pulling a knight through the front line of pawns, is one of those things that runs a risk of destabilizing the logical progression laid out in chess books. "It does seem as though a lot of memorization would be involved, to make such studies effective. Says one who has never undertaken them," he adds, taking advantage of the pause before his next move to claim his klah mug and take a sip. "If you enjoy old lyricism, then you will likely enjoy Deyole. There are times when the balladeer's fascination with verse seems to overwhelm his own interest in the story - but in his defense, the writing frequently merits the vanity."
"I think you can learn a lot about a writer by the way they tell a story. So even if you might seem to be losing the thread of the story you can get a glimpse into the mind of the person writing it. I like learning about the people who come up with ideas as much as their ideas. Someday when I have not so many other important projects I am going to come up with a definitive collection of Poleron's works along with a comprehensive biography. Do you know Poleron? He's my favorite. Cause of my parents." Miniyal looks at the board as she holds her cup in both hands. Staring for several minutes she worries at her lip before switching her grip from two-handed to one. Another pawn goes forward and she shakes her head. "It's not so much. Memorizing, I mean. Well, I guess it is. I can remember stuff I think is important. I sort of like remembering the different ways people play. I just can't find my own style that works. I guess that's a problem. I mean, so many things I could try and I can't settle them, you know."
J'cor's brow furrows thoughtfully when she mentions Poleron, soundlessly echoing the name as though just the act of framing it with his mouth might help him bring the author to mind. It does not work immediately, but as soon as he moves on to other tasks - considering his move in return for hers. "Oh! Poleron. Of course." His other knight hops forward, and he lifts a considering gaze to her face. It does not last long, as he goes for another stolen sip of klah. The pipe, left this long on the table, has long since died. "You are more patient than I. I find it easy to memorize literature - especially poetry, with the aid of meter - but I doubt I would remember many of the plots of chess, if I tried to memorize them. Perhaps I should not admit it, in case it gives you a strategical edge over me, but I do not have a set strategy."
Miniyal laughs and gestures at the board. "My only strategy is to prolonging the game as long as I can so I only lose once tonight." As if it's a given that if she's not ready to leave when the game is over he will play again. "Poleron, yes. He was so amazing. I mean, I'm biased because I was named after his wife I guess. Still, his stuff is so. . " Trailing off she reaches out, moving a previously moved pawn forward once more. Once she takes her hand away she takes up her cup and before drinking recites a stanza from some poem or other about the refraction of light on a stormy sea. When she's done she grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I don't mean to do that. I shouldn't talk about poetry because I get distracted and do that. I'm so very not good at this game. I always thought it was a logical game, evidence to the contrary, and then I was told it was a game of war. Which makes it even more hard for me. Do you think it is? I'm not good at war."
J'cor about to lean forward to make his move, is effectively distracted from making it when Miniyal breaks into poem. His hand hovers over the pieces, forgetting them while he listens, and at last greets her sheepish grins with a rare type of smile, unmitigated by wry overtones or faint enthusiasm. "I have read a treatise or two about the recitation of poetry. Some say that to read it only silently betrays what they see as its original, aural nature - the meter, and the rhyme, are meant to be spoken and heard." Belatedly remembering the game, he looks down at his pieces with a frown. What was he doing again? "At any rate, a lovely recitation. You do the material honor. And you distract me quite efficiently," he admits, a note of dry amusement woven into his tone as he moves a pawn forward. One of her own is starting to look in danger. "If it is a game of war, perhaps I am not cut out for it either."
Miniyal blinks and then laughs, almost apologetic. "Sorry. I will stop distracting you. When I was a little girl I'd recite poems to my parents. They were the only ones I could do it in front of without wanting to crawl off and hide in embarrassment." Looking at the board she reaches for a sweet roll as she studies it. "This is why I never bet on these games." The sweet free hand reaches out to move a piece. "Would you like to be? I mean, would you like to consider yourself like that?" Biting her lip she leans back against the couch and tucks her feet under her, skirt pulled down to cover them up. If she's going to show a lack of manners by sitting on the floor she may as well be comfortable. "You know, your back is not going to thank you. I promise to never tell a soul you sat on the floor and played a game with me to maintain the dignity of your position." Ok, she is teasing now, although she cannot look at him as she does so, instead peering into her klah.
J'cor's smile is entirely wry this time, as he leans back from his doubled-up position - and this time, protesting bones do creak and crack against their long imprisonment in that uncomfortable stance. "You will never be able to, for I shall not sit on the floor." Standing, he sidesteps his chair and pushes it back, making room between it and the small table. Then he pulls off the bottom cushion and drops it where the chair just was. "I shall sit Igen-style, both maintaining the dignity of my position and making it quite difficult for you to keep the secret of my origins from entering your history." He speaks with his usual polite restraint, but the tease underlying the words is impossible to miss. He gives it a moment to set in, while he considers the board over klah, then scales back to her previous question, a more serious subject. "I would not like to consider myself warlike. There are weaknesses and strengths in this."
Miniyal claps a hand over her mouth before she can do something too undignified like giggle like a little girl. Hey, he caught he off guard so she can be excused. Once she's back in control she finishes off her sweet roll, licking her fingers and then taking up her cup for a drink. So, sometimes her manners lapse. She focuses on the board, studying it rather than the man across from her although her attention remains focused on the latter. She's quite good at giving that impression without making the dreaded eye contact. "May I be told why? I mean, why don't you want to be considered as such. How would you like to be considered. Umm. And, I'm just curious. I promise nothing said in the confidence of a chess game will be recorded down in my history. Besides, my brain is too full of trying to remember how the pieces move. I always get confused." Shaking her head she sets her cup down and folds her hands in her lap.
J'cor settles into his Igenite seat with the ease of longtime familiarity, stretching his back up to ensure that his posture does not fail him in the absence of a chair back's support. "Ah. Well, I would have boasted, at one time, myself to be a peacemaker." A chess piece makes it little move on the board, and once he's set it down his hand diverts to the rolls. "So that is certainly how I would like to be considered. It is not, if we are being candid, reflected in my actions here, nor in the general view of me; and perhaps a warlike attitude would have served me better in this particular function, since I might have preempted some of the problems which occurred." Always correct and well- (or over-) spoken, there is a remarkable note of distance in this last phrase, as though he needed to detach himself from it. One can well guess, then, the specific 'problem' he is thinking of. "But I am not comfortable with aggression. I only concede its necessity it certain cases where a diplomatic solution is not possible or, rather, is not practical."
Miniyal is not as interested in the board as in the words now. She nearly rests her elbows on the table, but recalls herself and covers it up by reaching for the jug to refill her cup. While she's holding it she tips it towards him in case he might like his topped off. Either way, filling his cup or not she sets it back down when done and reaches for the sweetener. Again with the adding and the stirring. The same number of times although it's not likely to be noticed, it's a subtle ritual. Compulsion. "I'm not sure there was anything that could be done. I mean things here were so. . .bad. I never met her. Not that there's a reason I should have. Me and lots of people never met her. I'm really sorry for your loss. I can't imagine. . .I mean. I'm sorry." Biting her lip she falls silent and removes the spoon from her klah to set it back down on the table by the sweetener. "Wow. Sorry, I didn't mean to make things drag off onto something sad, you know? I should have planned a conversation out in my head. Is that weird? Probably. If I do that ahead of time and try really hard I can not say the wrong thing. Even then I don't always, of course. I don't agree aggression of a physical variety is every warranted. But I do admit that I've never been in, or ever will be in, a position to have my beliefs tested by an actual. . .well, test."
J'cor is in the middle of a klah sip - he'll need to refill it any moment, at the rate he's going - when Miniyal abruptly, directly addresses the question of Yevide. His gaze lowers into the diminishing contents of his mug, making no further effort for a long moment either to drink or to refill it. On his side of the room, a little bronze statue stirs, his wings stretching up slightly with a shivering motion before he resettles over the loud noise of wingsails brushed together. "The actual test does tend to change one's perspective. I do not know whether that is because decisions become more clear in practice, or if the pressure of making them becomes more distracting." Suddenly he is very busy with his klah, refilling the cup (though it's not, really, entirely empty yet) and taking his sweet time to stir in the sweetener.
Miniyal lifts her head from her own cup and turns to look over towards where Karth rests. "Did I upset him too?" she asks quietly, sounding guilty. "I'm sorry. I just came to play chess. I'll go." Setting her cup down she stands up, managing to hit the table with her leg and knocking over several of the chess pieces in the process. "Sorry. I always do this." With someone else she might stomp her foot here to show her annoyance at her own self, but that's something she doesn't do for just anyone. It being much too adorable and such. Well, someone likes it! "Thank you for a nice evening, sir. I'm sorry I cut it short. You can keep the board. Sorry." Mumbling something she turns and steps around the table to go.
J'cor has, while he gathered his klah together, regained some of his composure. "/I/ have upset him," he responds, keeping his voice carefully detached and his gaze levelly fixed on his drink. "I would not like to think that I have upset you, too, and driven you off. However -" a pause here, the cup lifted for an exam and then lowered, his pretense of interest in it given up, though he still does not look at Miniyal. "However, the topic does need to change." Staring absently into the distance, he takes a distracted sip of his newly prepared klah.
Miniyal bites her lip and turns back around. "No. I upset myself. And I upset the board. My brain moves here and there and I can't always stop my mouth from saying everything that it thinks about everything." A look around the room and she takes a few steps back the other way. Before she sits back down she frowns a moment in thought. But, whatever she might have said she does not and instead just retakes her seat. "Alright. You pick the topic. You can pick anything you want. Ask me anything. I know, how exciting." Keeping her hands folded in her lap she manages a hint of levity in her tone. "You should be honored, you know. I don't normally give people that chance unless I've been drinking too much /and/ have known them most of my life."
J'cor did not even notice the upset of the board, and now he notes with surprise the several pieces lying listlessly on their sides. Fittingly, for what started the conversation, like fallen warriors. "Well," he says, reaching out to pick up one of the pieces. If he does not return it to its place, it does not much matter to him. "I feel as though I should have an important question ready for such an honor. I regret my lack of preparation, but - fortunately - know of at least one way out. Namely, since I can ask you anything, I choose to ask what you would most like to speak about." He puts the last chess piece on its feet, and lightly draws his hand away.
Miniyal could, of course, right the pieces back to exactly where they were. It wouldn't be any trouble at all, but she doesn't seem to care. "That is so cheating." Shaking her head she takes up her cup again for a drink. It buys her some time to figure out exactly what she wants to talk about. By the time she sets her cup down she still has no topic and so she studies the board and without thinking reaches out to change a couple of pieces to where they were. Pulling her hand back she mumbles, "I think that's right." Shrugging as if she's not sure she continues to try to think of something she actually wants to talk about. Finally she just grabs something out of the air. "I've been thinking a lot about dancing lately. I think it's not so much an expression of socialization as a way to make people feel inadequate if they are unable to master dance steps as quickly as other people in their peer group. I mean, lots of people can't do it, you know? But I've been reading these books on dance steps and if you study the popular dances of different historical times you can sort of get an idea of how people think. I mean, I do think so. It's like poetry and other writings. There's so much we can learn from them all. I think it's interesting to study. Social history, you know? Not events, but the people. People are more interesting." Especially dead people she doesn't have to talk to.
J'cor's mouth turns up into a faint, cornered smile when accuses him of cheating. "I adapt my strategy, that is all." This time, perhaps to help the continued diffusion of tension in the room, he allows a note of humor to enter his tone. While she rearranges the pieces, he finishes off a roll, but her selection of topic makes him raise a surprised glance to her. "Dancing," he says at last, once she's finished her reflections. The cornered smile makes a reappearance while he lightly brushes roll-crumbs off over a saucer. "And social history. There is certainly a connection. In my home - I refer to my home hold - dancing is often an integral part of our celebrations. I have argued with my brother - recently, in fact - as to the significance and tradition of these dances. Have you spoken to Roa?" Apropos of nothing.
Blink. The change of subject causes Miniyal to tip her head to one side and look puzzled. "I speak to Roa nearly every day. I do work for her after all." Then she shakes her head and smiles briefly. "It was just what came to my mind. Because I saw B'ren in the kitchens and he teases me about not being able to dance. Because I can't. Uncoordinated fat women rarely dance well I've found. Anyway, I could have just as easily mentioned popular songs. But then you were liable to have me break out into some song my parents used to sing to me as a kid and I thought to spare you since I already delivered my impromptu performance tonight." Here she stops, clearing her throat and reaching for her cup to take a drink. "I don't know if I've thanked you or not, sir, for letting me come visit. So, thank you. I enjoy getting to come talk to you."
J'cor watches her response carefully and patiently, accepting her puzzlement with a calm nod. "I fear you will think my insincere, for just echoing your thanks, but it is a pleasure, Miniyal. Thank you for visiting." He turns his fingers over for examination, making sure that the last crumbs of sweet roll have been cleared from them, and then (since she's restored the the board) moves one of his pieces. "The reason I mention Roa," he says, his fingers hovering and unwilling to let go while he considers the implications of his move, "is that she has recently begun to take dancing lessons from my niece, and as you are her assistant I thought the subject might have come up for that reason. In between your work discussions, of course." A faint smile traces its way onto his features, and his hand withdraws from the chess piece.
Miniyal shakes her head slowly and doesn't smile this time. "No. I don't see any reason to think you insincere. I'd rather think if you were not speaking the truth you would not speak." She expects, after all, people to do as she does. "We don't really talk much. Roa and I." Frowning at the board she studies the move not quite made yet. "I'm not sure exactly why she hired me. I don't think we get along so well. I'm not. . .I don't know. I wonder if she only wanted me because-I don't know." Falling silent she reaches for a sweet roll so she might have an excuse to stop talking. Breaking off a piece she takes her time with it as she continues to study the board and not speak.
J'cor, while he waits for her to study the board, props his hands on his knees and uses this position to push himself up, stretching his back. For all that he's long been familiar with the Igenite posture, he hasn't practiced it in a while, and his muscles protest slightly. "Because?" he prompts mildly, raising a look to her face. A smile and a small shrug allows her to dismiss the prompot if she wants to; he, for his part, will simply reclaim his klah mug for a long, slow drink.
Miniyal continues to study the board quietly with one hand hovering over this piece and then that piece without touching any of them. Pulling her hand back she worries at her lower lip. "I'm not sure. Maybe she thinks I am something I am not. It seems to be something that is a problem for me." Without much apparent thought she moves a piece and then pulls her hands back to take up her cup and drink. "There are other possible reasons, but as they touch on someone I've done my best not to bring up in conversation I shall let them pass. It's not very much of a problem I think as, if past jobs are any indication, I won't be in this one very long. How old were you when you impressed? I imagine if it were young enough that would have made it easier for you. I mean, not worrying so much about what path you're going to take."
J'cor's eyebrows tilt up - someone she's done her best not to bring up - but he follows the same course, passing over the mention of that person and onto the chess board. His turn to consider a move. "I was fifteen. I will admit it did make things easier. Prior to my impression, I had been in the place of the second-son - although I had no wish to usurp my elder brother, there is always the classic question of what the second-son, with little enough to inherit, will do with what he has." A pause, while he moves his piece across the board. A quick grin, with actual teeth, flashes over his features. "I was going to be a tanner. Karth thought otherwise."
"A tanner. I don't see it, but I guess that was long enough ago." Miniyal studies the board and then makes her move before stretching, not being used to sitting on the floor at all as it is not proper. "I thought I was going to be head of records. Well, it's what I wanted to do when I wasn't doing it. I don't know what I thought it would be, you know? But it wasn't that." Head tilting to the side Miniyal grins. "Actually, when I was a kid I wanted to be something totally different, but that's neither here or there. And, I really think we don't need to talk about this anymore. At least as it pertains to me." Biting her lip she asks, "Has Roa talked to you about our research?"
J'cor's eyes sparkle with quiet amusement. She doesn't seem him as a tanner? As he shifts in his cross-legged posture on the cushion, exchanging one top-leg for another, he sends a quick look across the room. His dragon catches the look but quietly snorts it off, tucking his face down behind the obstructing arm of his stone couch. Dismissed by his dragon, he returns to Miniyal in time to catch her grin, but though he offers his own smile as encouragement, he decides not to push the issue when she calls it closed. All he does is tilt his head, curious, but quiet on the matter. "Your research? She has not."
Miniyal picks at the remains of her sweet roll in silence, using her time to study the board although at this point it's a mere backdrop to her thoughts and not anything she's really paying attention to. "She asked me to study the records of the other. . .I'm not sure she wanted me talk about it. But she said she was going to talk. . .I'm a lousy assistant." Again she hides behind her cup until it is empty and then once it is set back down she shrugs. A decision has been made it seems. "Well, she was concerned about the frequency with which queens rise here at the weyr. I don't know why she hasn't come forward with our results. I'm a little concerned actually. I mean, I don't think she's the only one looking into it and if. . .I think I'm making a mess of this. She's going to be mad."
J'cor frowns, but his thoughts are turned inwards. So recently ducked behind his couch, there is the sound of rustling furs as Karth feels a need to rearrange himself, the great bronze side heaving over as he shifts to lean into the wall. "The frequency? I had imagined that Tialith - or Citalth -" he stops himself, lips pressed closed, and fills the silence with the clinking of a spoon in his klah mug, as though the sweetener needed to be stirred up again. "Ah," he says, as though his previous sentence had not occurred, and he were only just responding to her words. "Well, our talk here continues to be in confidence. I will not discuss the subject with Roa, certainly, if you feel it would endanger your position."
Miniyal bites her lip and then shakes her head. "No, I mean, yes. I think. . .shards." One hand sweeps at hair that is already tucked behind her ear before both hands are folded in her lap. "I checked at the other weyrs and examined their records. There's actually. . .it's like we're missing a queen here. There should have been one between Nenuith and Citalth. And no queens since then. . .It's not at all like the patterns at the other weyrs." Frowning a moment she gestures with one hand. "There's too many of them here we think. With the caucus, you know? I mean, notice how every time a queen is transferred or. . .goes she rises soon after. I'm pretty sure that's why both Roa and Sinopa have been spending more time away. Trying to kick start the whole process or something. I know she was going to tell. I mean, she wasn't just keeping it to herself."
J'cor sets the spoon back on its saucer with a faint, careful clink. "My history at this weyr is admittedly short, but I was under the impression that the queens you refer to - Vasyath and Nenuith, I assume - were expected to rise more or less at the time they did. Regardless of their locales at the time. I can certainly see, however, that given the number of queens here for the Caucus, as well as the Reaches' own complement, the lack is ... striking." Speaking of which, he takes her pawn, the pieces clinking together as he displaces hers and removes it from the board. "And that Tialith and Citalth are indeed leaning heavily on the 'more' side of their expected rising."
Miniyal seems surprised she's lost her pawn. Frowning she leans forward and studies the board as if trying to figure out exactly how this occurred. One hand twitches on the edge of the table as if she'd play out every move again if she could. "Nenuith was overdue." She would know and she's stops, trying to dance around a delicate subject once more. Finally she just does what she always does. "It's how Yevide was brought in. If Nenuith had risen when she should have Diya would have been senior. Citalth is overdue and Tialith is old enough she should have risen by now for her first flight. Roa has all my research, but if you want to see it I can get it for you. There's patterns to the flights and you can see them. I may not be good at much, but I'm very good at research and compiling information."
J'cor's mouth forms an unspoken 'ah' when Miniyal gives in to habit and tells Yevide's transfer like it is. Or, was. He does not, however, seem offended; a bit guarded, perhaps. "It does form a rather complete picture, when you put it that way. I imagine that other weyrs who have sent their juniors here for Caucus are, then, also feeling the lack - it is one less queen producing for them, of course, as well. A problem, then, that will persist even if Tialith or Citalth should rise soon."
Miniyal, talking about her research, has pretty much forgotten her part of the game. With one hand she reaches out and moves absently one of her pieces. A bad move. "Yes. And, actually, there's cases where weyrs with a gold sent to caucus actually wind up with another one there. To make up for the one here I imagine. Roa was thinking of ways to help solve it I believe, but I guess she got sidetracked with everything else she was doing." Well, it's an attempt to protect her employer. "It's actually interesting. I only went back a few years before the caucus was formed, but I would have loved to be able to study things more seriously. . .to go as far back as records would allow. I've never really thought on that before. I mean, the cycle. I mean, I grew up here, but I wasn't that old when the caucus started so I guess I never noticed."
J'cor is puzzled of the bad move, and frowns at the board while he tries to figure out wherein lies the trap. "As a bronzerider, I confess, I have long been keeping tabs on the flight schedules of queens in my own weyr. I have not done so as a question of discovering patterns, however, but for my own benefit; I never attempted a more comprehensive analysis. I can say, however, that I have rarely seen two queens rising close to each other - save once, the clutches have all had time to hatch before a new queen rose."
Miniyal is just now realising the bad move, but shrugs it off with a quiet sigh as she reaches for the klah to refill her cup. "I realise it's needed and all, but I always saw it as an annoyance. More people here getting underfoot. Holders. . .umm. Anyway, it's just sometimes a hassle. But, I never really paid attention beyond that as it's not something that really factors into my life beyond something going on out there." As in out in the rest of the world outside her little corner. "It would be interesting research. It'd be nice to have it all compiled together to so one didn't have to go all over Pern to figure out what was going on. I wish we had a central place to store records from all the holds and weyrs. It's not as if it would be too hard to make an extra copy of everything when it's written and send it on somewhere."
J'cor eventually takes her piece, since it seems so exposed, with a weak smile and shrug: either he's walked into a trap, or he's taken advantage of her distraction. Whoops. Picking up his klah (they're both draining it at quite a rate), he holds a sip of the cooling stuff in his mouth for a little while as he considers. "Well, if any library were to meet such a description, it would be this weyr's or the Harper Hall's - the Hall, of course, notably more so. I take it, though, that it doesn't satisfy you. Perhaps you mean a - non-affiliated place, as it were? But I imagine any such place would be under someone's thumb eventually."
Miniyal winces as she loses her piece. As if she takes the loss personal. Not that he took it, but that she lost it. Heaving a sigh she is more careful now, studying the board and trying to focus on the game and not the conversation although it's the first time in a long time she's done that. "This weyr's is not bad. It has notable lapses. As for Harper. . .even they don't have everything. I mean, I did go there and look for some things, but it's not all there. Not the details. I still had to go everywhere else to find stuff. Besides, I don't really agree with the way they do things at Harper. Locking up information as if it should not be there for everyone to read. It's offensive." Now she moves, trying to correct for her mistake.
J'cor has switched places with her, then, for he now considers the conversation more carefully than his moves on the board. He starts to move a pawn, changes his mind, and returns it to its place. "The weyr's collection is organized, I would imagine - I have spent less time in it than others - around the needs of its Caucus classes. Frankly, the room is not large enough to hold as many records as would be needed in such an undertaking." He pushes a knight forward with one hand and takes up a roll with the other, pausing a moment to reflect before he starts eating it. "Though a wholly unaffiliated library would be an impossibility, I could conceive of a place with the stated goal of open records-access. It would start small, I imagine, but like-minded persons might contribute their own copies to such an ideal."
Miniyal wrinkles her nose upon her sip of klah when she discovers she forgot to sweeten it. With a shrug she takes another drink. So it's not the lack of sweet that is offensive, but the unknowing of such a state. "It's true. I mean, we don't have enough space as it is and I wish we had more. . .well, that's not really my concern anymore. The head of records will do as he sees fit. The whole problem starts with a suitable location, of course. Anywhere it goes the people it resides with will feel some extra ownership of it. It's what people do. It's not even. . .it's not something I've put a lot of thought into. Not like other things. It's just one of many things that has come into my head over the turns that I like to think about every now and again." Looking at the board she frowns, staring at every piece on both sides before shaking her head and making another move.
J'cor has a surprise of his own in store when he tilts his klah mug and finds it, except for a very thin layer at the bottom, empty. He tilts the mug back towards him, investigating its contents just to confirm that he's run out; with a shrug, he reaches for another refill. Neither of them will sleep well tonight - though that's no problem for Miniyal. "It seems you have many such things coming into your head," he remarks as he pours. "Which is hardly to say that's a bad thing. Quite the contrary. I do wonder, though, which ones you are working on, of your limitless supply." A thin, distracted smile here as he finishes up the cup, and sets the jug back in its place.
Miniyal looks at the jug and tips her head over as if it is a new puzzle. "I shall make a note next time to bring more. Or to play faster and talk less. Unless you will have too much trouble sleeping because of it. It is no fun being awake all night." His comment draws her head up to look over at him and she smiles, quieting a laugh. "I have a list in my head. I've had a lot of. . .spare time over the turns to think of things I think would make some things better. Most of them wouldn't be interesting to anyone but me I am sure. It may not be a bad thing, but it's mostly studies in futility. I can't really-I'm good at ideas and I can formulate how to bring them about reasonably well, but I can't ever figure out how to start them. It involves, well, being able to speak to people. At some point you always have to talk."
J'cor, bringing the refilled cup (which he, unlike her, remembers to sweeten) to his lips, stops himself before he drinks and stares down into the cup. "Ah, well, perhaps I drink excessively, but I do not - anticipate I will have much trouble sleeping." Realizing suddenly that it's still his move, his non-cup-holding hand flicks out to move a piece. "I still insist that a written tract, perhaps outlining the need for and benefits of your proposed records hall, would be a more powerful tool than you seem to think it. And, it has a certain elegance," he notes, turning a small smile up at her.
Miniyal nods her head and continues to watch the board. Glancing up she makes note of the smile and then ducks her head again to look at the board. "I'm working on it. But. . .but if you can't talk about it. I mean, they make questions. A properly written tract will encourage people to talk about it and you have to be able to answer them intelligently. Without sounding like, well, me." Wry this time is her smile and she reaches out to make a move that's not entirely wise although doesn't put anything into jeopardy just yet. "When I'm done will you provide me with your opinion? Of what I have written. So I might make corrections before seeing about letting anyone else see it? Although it could be awhile. If you change your mind by the time I'm done it's nothing to worry about. I'll understand." She always understands people avoiding her. Even if it hasn't happened yet.
J'cor's smile pulls higher for the question, and before she even gets to her preemptive politeness in excusing him, he nods. "Certainly so, Miniyal; I'm honored that you ask my opinion. Nor is it my habit to go back on my word once given, so you have my word." Punctuating the promise, he moves one of his pieces with the faint drop as it reconnects the board. "It is something of an inevitability, when one enters the public sphere, that one will find disagreement. People think of things you had not thought of, even with the highest preparation; it happens sometimes." He shrugs. "On the other hand, it is not such a horrid thing to be found wrong, for by finding new weaknesses in your argument you may be able to eliminate them on further thought."
"Thank you. Oh. I didn't mean to imply you would be the sort to go back on your word." Miniyal is earnest now as she looks up from the board and at her opponent. One hand reaches out and moves a piece, sloppy but it's too late by the time she realises it so she just shrugs and sips again at her klah. "I don't mind if I am wrong. But people who, well, debate things. I mean, I can't do that. Discuss what's wrong? I'm not so great at that. But we keep. . .I don't know, winding up on me. What do you want to change? I mean, is there anything you would like to do? Some project that's on your mind?"
If Miniyal is failing to make wise moves, J'cor is failing to take advantage of them, now that he's been distracted. And that question is, indeed, a distracting one, for it brings the Weyrleader's chin up in startlement. "I?" His gaze trails over to the lump of motionless bronze that is his dragon, but the motionlessness persists. He returns to Miniyal, lowering his chin with something of an effort. "I find myself caught up in the day-to-day details, I am afraid, rather than any more overarching plan. A personal failing or the demands of my knot, I don't know." He concedes this somewhat wryly, trying and failing to twist a smile up for it.
Miniyal is not someone who will pry, much. So she takes his answer at face value and simply nods her head. Finishing off the sweet roll she's been picking at for some time she brushes a few crumbs from her fingers. "See? I think that would be nice sometime. Not having so much time to think about so much. Sometimes I feel like there's just not enough to do. I prefer to be busy. Spare time is not wise for me. I tend to cause trouble for myself I think. I don't think I've ever been that busy. Too busy to consider things that I likely never do anything about. Navan says it's because I don't have a purpose yet. But I'm thinking there's not much chance of finding one at this point so I am resigned to having too much time to think."
J'cor is not typically someone who will pry, and yet he can't miss this particular opportunity. He pauses to make his next move, leaving a pawn unprotected so he can set himself up to take her rook. That done, he leans back somewhat and presses his hands together above his lap. "If I may ask - and I hope it will not get me in trouble, though you should feel free not to answer - what /is/ this point? I cannot imagine there is a cut-off point for involvement in the issues that most concern you."
Miniyal blinks, looking at the board and then up. Rather than take the pawn she stares at the rest of the pieces. "I think you reach a point where you've been uncertain for so long that it's just easier to remain that way." More blinking and she moves a piece, leaving his pawn untouched. "Things just start to seem less clear after time I think. I think it's possible to reach a point where it's been so long since you've been able to make a change that it's just easier-it's just different for everyone is all."
J'cor puts a pincer move on her rook, making it impossible to save without sacrificing another piece. "Well, things always do seem simpler when one is young, or so the old believe. I suspect that it is equally difficult for all ages, but the longer one goes on without managing it, whatever 'it' may be, the more one becomes accustomed to thinking it impossible."
Miniyal mumbles something to the board, either because she sees her endangered piece or in response to something that he says. Biting her lip she takes up her cup and drinks from it until it is empty. She makes no move to steal the last of the klah from the jug. Instead she stares at the board. "I feel old." More mumbling, but those words at least are clear enough to understand. Looking up she grins sheepishly. "Sorry, well, I do. I always have. Maybe that's my problem. I don't even recall being a child. Not in the way I hear most people recall such a time." Closing her eyes after looking at the board again she lets the rook go and makes another move.
J'cor blinks up at her at these words, meeting her sheepish grin and then blinking back down to the board. Although his next move is obvious - he's been setting it up for two turns - yet he hesitates before making it. "The type of childhood," he says, switching his knight into the spot, "depends on the type of the child." Her rook gets move to the edge of the board, and set up there next to other pale companions. "And a somber childhood is a childhood yet. You cannot be old, Miniyal." His voice drifts into faint detachment as he reaches for his klah mug, taking it as his focus rather than her.
Miniyal watches her rook be taken without so much as a sigh. Biting her lip she looks at the board. "Maybe not physically. But that doesn't mean that I don't feel old. I don't think this is working." Whatever it is that is not working, other than the game, is not explained. Now she hesitates before her move, fingers lightly touching her next piece as if she's afraid to lose it to. Still, the game cannot continue if she doesn't make a move and so she does. "I hated childhood. No one takes you seriously."
J'cor does not make a move, however, taking more time to consider the board in the absence of her rook. "Of course. Because you are a child." He shrugs, as if there is nothing else to expect in this: children are treated like children. "Being old, however, while we associate it with greater wisdom and the respect we were denied in our youths, rarely brings the connotations it professes. It is no more than being old, and does not come with any particular set of behaviors or worldview; and if you have not already, in youth or middle-age, earned the distinction you seek it will not come as a product of gray hairs."
Miniyal laughs softly as her head shakes. "I don't want that. I don't think. . .some people." Clearly she spoke before her brain sorted out what she was going to say. "Not all children don't have anything important to say. Just like not anyone who has lived a long time has anything important to say. I just think we look at a person's age and judge them by it rather than the person." Seeing the board she shakes her head again and instead looks over at the weyrleader. "I don't think age makes a difference. But society does. And it's. . .wrong. It doesn't make sense."
J'cor puts on a little smile. "Well, there being no important distinction between the young and the old-" he lets the sentence trail off with a small flick of his fingers that winds up with him moving his piece. "It is inconvenient for those judged by such standards, and convenient for those who judge them. With all the time in the world we could everyone their fair consideration; lacking it, however, we fall back on simpler ways of sorting. I don't believe people, or at least most people, do it out of a particular desire to dismiss and belittle others, but rather out of a necessity of keeping up with their own demands upon themselves and upon their time."
Miniyal watching the board, the move, where it leaves everything else. A hand reaches for her cup before she recalls it is empty and so it drops back into her lap as she leans forward another inch to look at the board as if it will make more sense the closer she looks at it. "I know. I mean, I don't think. . .I know I sound a lot like I disagree with everything that everyone does, but it's not true. I'm just bothered so much by some things that it makes it hard to separate. It's a failing. I am trying to fix it, but so far I don't seem to be having much luck. Hesitation again as she moves her next piece, trying to fix what mistakes she's made before and salvage something.
"Mmm, disagreement is a sign you are thinking." J'cor's answer is a little bit distracted, but then, he is studying the board. "The latter is of benefit, and the former is a means to the latter. It would only be fair, as you yourself have some anxiety about disagreements, to bear in mind the anxiety of others in the same case, and make an effort to clarify your what bothers you so that you disagree with it, as well as to ensure their comfort to what level you can. However, I would hope you do not intend to cut out your disagreements entirely from your conversations." Finished, he moves his piece.
Miniyal laughs, a wee bit on the wry side. Head still bent to look at the board she fiddles absently with the ring on her finger. "If I stopped disagreeing in conversation I doubt I would have much to say. I'm a disagreeable sort, didn't you know that, sir?" Making her move she then leans back again and tilts her head up once more. It may not have been the best move, but if nothing else it will ward off defeat for another round. "It's not even that I have anxiety over it. I mean, no more than over any other social situation. It's more that I don't handle it well. If I were, I don't know. More like Corin. But that's not going to happen. People are just frustrating."
J'cor chuckles quietly, easily moving a piece. As there are fewer on the board to watch, now, he does not always feel a need to consider them carefully. "People are people. How is it that we have switched roles, Miniyal? You the pessimist and I the optimist on this matter."
Blink. Startled, clearly not by the move but by what is said, Miniyal looks over and then almost laughs. At the last minute she stifles it and instead shrugs her shoulders. There's not much that can save her although she still makes her moves carefully. At this point the object is clearly just to prolong the game as long as she can before she loses. "Because deep down you're not as pessimistic as you think you are I think. And deep down when I'm willing to admit it I can tell myself that I don't really believe myself when I look on the bright side. I think to be a leader you have to have some optimism somewhere. Even a tiny bit."
J'cor's turn to be surprised. The startled look he raises to her answer turns slowly into a squinted, thoughtful one, marred slightly by the wry downward twist of his smile - for though it turns down, it is still, somehow, a smile. Perhaps defined more by contrast with a grimace than by any mirth behind it. "You have pegged me quite effectively, but I wonder if you give yourself fair treatment. Would you have argued so enthusiastically for the sparing of criminals' lives if you did not, beneath the deep-down layer of pessism you confess, have a note of optimism as well?" Since Miniyal keeps moving her important pieces away from him, he contents himself with picking off a neglected pawn.
Miniyal, at the loss of her pawn, sighs. "I've lost." Well, she will eventually. "We can play this to the bitter end or I can stop trying to prolong the inevitable and just deal with it now." She makes another move, careless this time. The choice is his to take his win or see it through. "The problem with optimism is it leads to disappointment and pain. You rely on people and they always let you down in the end. It's just the way of things. But I am trying to think differently. I'm here." Which, because it will not make sense to him like it does her will earn him an explanation it seems. "I wasn't very happy with you at first. And then when I interviewed you I made a mess of it and it would have been easy enough to never come back, but. . .but I am not going to believe that it is pointless to visit." Chin tilting up she regards him from her spot across the board. "I think, in the end, it might be good for us both to have someone we can just talk to without it being about what is going on and what all has to be worried about the next day. There's no pressure." A pause and a little less sure she adds, "Don't you think?"
J'cor does not need to chase down his victory, however, moving his hands away from the board and flipping them palm-up to accept her surrender. Somewhat joking, the gesture subsides when her answer grows serious, and he watches quite levelly - aside from a small, unsurprised quirk of a smile when she confesses her initial dissatisfaction with him - while she speaks. "I do think," he confirms, putting into his voice and the nod that accompanies it the surety that her own addition lacks. "Though I cannot speak on your behalf ... I'm glad to hear you benefit as well as I, for I have been unaccustomed, save nights when I visit my brother, to spending my evenings in pleasant conversation."
Miniyal, generally tensed up for rejection whenever she puts herself out, relaxes at his agreement. "Well. Umm. Good. Then it is settled. I shall be sure to come by once a seven or so and we can talk. I'll bring more klah." Looking at the chess board she shakes her head. "And quite possibly lose at chess more should you want to play again. But it's good for me to get out and meet people on my own. Even if it means running across a cold bowl at night to get here." There is a pause and her mouth opens to add something before she closes it, seeming to have changed her mind. "I probably should start thinking about getting back anyway."
J'cor's eyes sparkle, clearly if silently amused that she ran across a cold bowl at night to get here. A nod accepts her proposed departure. "I shall be happy to play more games of chess, though I have no intention abandoning my sole strategy - to talk you into distraction - since it secures me such an effective win." He flashes a smile before turning his attention to the board, picking up the pieces and helping the clean-up process. "Don't worry," he notes, "about the cups and such things. I take my breakfast up here, and I can clean them away with my tray tomorrow."
Miniyal gathers up the used cups and places them along with the jug into the basket everything was carried here in. "Oh, alright. It's not a really big deal. Practically on my way to my room, but that's fine." Spares her stopping in the kitchens where gossipy women reside. "I will just have to come up with a strategy to avoid your distraction then." So, there, her tone adds although she wouldn't be juvenile enough to say them out loud. Once everything but the chess set is packed away she rises to her feet, stretching to work out the kinks after sitting on the floor for so long. "Not just improper, but uncomfortable, floor sitting."
J'cor places his fists in the small of his back and bends forward until his spine cracks. "Indeed," he agrees wryly, kicking out his legs. A hand braced on the table helps push him up, against whatever unnamed muscular protests oppose the motion. "Igen has adapted the pillow, but it is woefully ineffective over the long term."
Miniyal smooths down her hair and brushes a crumb from her skirt. "Clearly you need a different table for game playing. You may fix that before I show up next time." Teasing in tone and manner she smiles. "I will let you get back to your book now, sir." More seriously, if in a friendly sort of fashion she adds, "Thank you. I had a lovely night. It was almost worth the cold." This seems to be her farewell statement for she steps around the table once more so she might walk to the door.
J'cor has toned down the formality, but it remains the cordial thing to escort her to the door. "Ah, yes, Deyole - he must feel quite neglected. Thank you for coming by, Miniyal." A smile, in tone and expression, comes with the words. "Good night."
Where: Weyrleader's weyr
When: 20:43 on day 22, month 11, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Not either ready or able to return to her room after talking to B'ren Miniyal goes on another visit to the weyrleader. They drink much klah, play chess, and discuss all sorts of things including poetry.
12/3/2006 & 12/4/2006
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 20:43 on day 22, month 11, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
It's about the usual time for her to show up. As if they have some schedule when it's really random and just when she feels like it or is forced to be removed from her room. Tonight Miniyal's steps are slower than before. Not because she's nervous or trying to think of what to say, but because her hands are full. After helping scrub pots in the kitchen she ran to stores and then back to the kitchen. Well, walked. Now she's standing outside the door with a jug in one hand and a basket in the other. Staring at them both she frowns as if trying to decide how she /is/ going to knock. The ends of her hair are still damp from her clean up work and while no snow or rain greeted her dash across the bowl the cold was enough to make her hurry and wish she'd thought to fetch a coat. Finally she gives up on the knocking and just lifts her voice to call out, "Excuse me? Sir? Are you there?"
No response. On his side of the door, J'cor lies stretched out on his couch, propping a book in front of him and puffing predictably away at his pipe. It's Karth who catches the sound, the bronze lifting his chin off the edge of the couch; the whirling of his eyes, slowed almost to a stop by his boredom, suddenly speeds up. J'cor glances at him, then at the door, then rolls up off the couch and sets his book down on the small table. Obedient to his dragon's whims, he answers the door, but it's clearly a surprise for him to actually find someone there. "Oh! Miniyal." He pulls a quick smile onto his face, pulling the door back to make room. Catching sight of the basket and jug, he twists a hand upwards, an offer. "May I help you with any of that?"
"Yes, thank you!" The first words she offers and out goes the jug. "Fresh klah. If you don't like it or want it that's fine, but I'm freezing." Which is all her own fault for making the trek. Once the jug is taken she hefts her basket. "Cups, sweetener, fresh sweet rolls, and tucked into the bottom, claimed from stores an old chess set." Biting her lip it's only now Miniyal smiles and asks, "So, umm. Want to play?" Only once she's asked the question does she step inside. "And if not can I at least warm up before facing the cold again? I mean, you know, if are not too busy." Not that she expects him to be since he never has been, but manners. Well, and because he might be one never knows.
J'cor is entirely busy at times. Just not at these times. He takes the jug with quiet breath of a chuckle, waiting till she's through before he closes the door behind her. "Ah. You've taken the pressure off me, as host, to provide refreshment. And a fortunate thing you did, since I have none." He gives the jug a small tilt back and forth, then passes her on his way back to the sitting area, though he opts for an armchair rather than the couch this time. "I should certainly enjoy a game," he muses, looking at the table. He sets the jug down and his pipe (carefully) next to it, brushing his book off to a corner where it won't get in the way. "And I do have the time. Will this set-up do?" He looks back at her with a thin hint of a smile: aside from his own clutter, the table is low, and will require some serious leaning in order to move pieces around the board.
Miniyal carries her basket over to the table and sets it down. "Well, I figured since I was invading you without warning it was the least I can do. If I'd sent notice beforehand then you would have been expected to provide something." She smiles at this, manners lesson over. Looking at the table and the chair and the couch she shrugs and sits down on the floor. Well. . .so much for manners. Unpacking the basket she sets out the cups carefully and then the covered plate with the sweet rolls. The latter is left where they both might reach it. The sweetener and even a spoon is set by the cups. Once she's gotten all this out she removes the chess board. One of those travel type ones with the pieces inside the box. Opening it she lays out the pieces before flipping the box over and starting to set up the board. "I should warn you. I am not good at this game. And I don't seem to be getting any better no matter how often I play."
J'cor shakes his head, bemused, when she chooses the floor, but for his part he'll preserve dignity: he picks an armchair, dragging it a small ways across the floor so he can sit opposite her. "Then I'll have a fighting chance. I played this game often enough when young, but I'm afraid I've lost the habit. And I was no master of it then," he admits wryly, reaching to take one of the cups she set out. Since she's handling the board set-up, he takes charge of the refreshment, pouring for both of them. He leaves the choice of sweetener up to her, however, reaching across to set her unsweetened cup off to the side of the table, where it won't interfere with her reach for the board.
Once the board is set up, Miniyal laughs quietly, briefly. "I play several times a week and I am still. . .horrid. Well, it's a learning experience. We'll get you back into fighting shape on the board." Because she assumes, it seems, they'll be playing again and again. Such a demanding person. She does take sweetener in her klah, adding a few spoons of it and stirring gently, no spoon clinking. Then she sets the spoon down and gestures to the board. "Light or dark? You're the host so you get to choose." Technically the host although she took it upon herself to assume so many of the duties of the host. Pushy and demanding. "I hope the evening finds you well. What were you reading?" Of course she noticed the book.
J'cor reaches out absently to the book, flipping it over so the title faces up. Not that the title is helpful: "Deyole" is all that it says, and J'cor repeats it anyway. "Deyole." It has three syllables, as it turns out. "A ballad that circulated widely during the third Pass, though it has died out today. The text itself is rather short, but densely packed. I find the scribe's afterword very illuminating." Taking his klah, he adds a bit of sweetener, though his spoon pauses on the way to stirring in order to gesture at the black pieces. "I'll be dark." A distraction: in the next moment, he's back to the casual pleasantries. "And how does your evening find you?"
I got suckered into scrubbing pots in the kitchen. Other than that it's not so bad. I've lost my room to a caucus student again." Miniyal shakes her head and turns the board so the dark pieces are on his side. "I don't think I know that one. Is it good? What's it about? I love old stories. My dad, Navan, he used to tell me them all the time when I was growing up. Stuff he'd come across in his work or overheard." Before moving her piece she takes a sip from her klah. "I will never get how someone can prefer tea over klah." Setting her cup down she reaches out while frowning at the board and moving one of her pawns forward. "Have you read a lot about chess? I've read everything I can find on it and I still can't win."
J'cor must, thanks to his prideful choice of the armchair, bend practically double in order to reach his pieces. Though Karth's injury - and the bronze, for his part, is watching this game intently but quietly from his couch - has removed the need for constant exercise, the Weyrleader remains in fair shape; he grimaces faintly at the doubled position, but that's all. "I haven't. Should I?" His smile flickers briefly as he slides his own pawn forward, meeting her own face-to-face. Leaning back, he flicks a glance at Deyole. "I enjoy Deyole, but the ballads of the Third Pass have a particular style which can be distracting. Pared down, it is about the young Lord of an invented hold. In trying to prove himself worthy of his father's legacy, he oversteps himself and nearly loses his Hold to the connivings of an evil uncle."
Miniyal looks at the board as if it all has changed. Well, it has all changed, but not by much. Chewing on her lower lip she frowns and looks over the whole thing. "I don't know. It doesn't seem to help me. There's a logical way the game can progress, but no one seems to follow it which is weird. I mean, you make a move and the other person has so many options and they make one and you counter with another set move and. . .and that's it. But no one does that." Another pawn is moved. "Deyole. I will have to remember that so I can find a copy. It sounds interesting. I like poetry. Older stuff especially. I find the more recent stuff lacks a lot of lyricism. Like just anyone thinks they can string words together and get published and be a poet. As if."
J'cor does not lift his gaze from the board, but an eyebrow goes up at her complaints about the unpredictability of chess. Perhaps because his next move, pulling a knight through the front line of pawns, is one of those things that runs a risk of destabilizing the logical progression laid out in chess books. "It does seem as though a lot of memorization would be involved, to make such studies effective. Says one who has never undertaken them," he adds, taking advantage of the pause before his next move to claim his klah mug and take a sip. "If you enjoy old lyricism, then you will likely enjoy Deyole. There are times when the balladeer's fascination with verse seems to overwhelm his own interest in the story - but in his defense, the writing frequently merits the vanity."
"I think you can learn a lot about a writer by the way they tell a story. So even if you might seem to be losing the thread of the story you can get a glimpse into the mind of the person writing it. I like learning about the people who come up with ideas as much as their ideas. Someday when I have not so many other important projects I am going to come up with a definitive collection of Poleron's works along with a comprehensive biography. Do you know Poleron? He's my favorite. Cause of my parents." Miniyal looks at the board as she holds her cup in both hands. Staring for several minutes she worries at her lip before switching her grip from two-handed to one. Another pawn goes forward and she shakes her head. "It's not so much. Memorizing, I mean. Well, I guess it is. I can remember stuff I think is important. I sort of like remembering the different ways people play. I just can't find my own style that works. I guess that's a problem. I mean, so many things I could try and I can't settle them, you know."
J'cor's brow furrows thoughtfully when she mentions Poleron, soundlessly echoing the name as though just the act of framing it with his mouth might help him bring the author to mind. It does not work immediately, but as soon as he moves on to other tasks - considering his move in return for hers. "Oh! Poleron. Of course." His other knight hops forward, and he lifts a considering gaze to her face. It does not last long, as he goes for another stolen sip of klah. The pipe, left this long on the table, has long since died. "You are more patient than I. I find it easy to memorize literature - especially poetry, with the aid of meter - but I doubt I would remember many of the plots of chess, if I tried to memorize them. Perhaps I should not admit it, in case it gives you a strategical edge over me, but I do not have a set strategy."
Miniyal laughs and gestures at the board. "My only strategy is to prolonging the game as long as I can so I only lose once tonight." As if it's a given that if she's not ready to leave when the game is over he will play again. "Poleron, yes. He was so amazing. I mean, I'm biased because I was named after his wife I guess. Still, his stuff is so. . " Trailing off she reaches out, moving a previously moved pawn forward once more. Once she takes her hand away she takes up her cup and before drinking recites a stanza from some poem or other about the refraction of light on a stormy sea. When she's done she grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I don't mean to do that. I shouldn't talk about poetry because I get distracted and do that. I'm so very not good at this game. I always thought it was a logical game, evidence to the contrary, and then I was told it was a game of war. Which makes it even more hard for me. Do you think it is? I'm not good at war."
J'cor about to lean forward to make his move, is effectively distracted from making it when Miniyal breaks into poem. His hand hovers over the pieces, forgetting them while he listens, and at last greets her sheepish grins with a rare type of smile, unmitigated by wry overtones or faint enthusiasm. "I have read a treatise or two about the recitation of poetry. Some say that to read it only silently betrays what they see as its original, aural nature - the meter, and the rhyme, are meant to be spoken and heard." Belatedly remembering the game, he looks down at his pieces with a frown. What was he doing again? "At any rate, a lovely recitation. You do the material honor. And you distract me quite efficiently," he admits, a note of dry amusement woven into his tone as he moves a pawn forward. One of her own is starting to look in danger. "If it is a game of war, perhaps I am not cut out for it either."
Miniyal blinks and then laughs, almost apologetic. "Sorry. I will stop distracting you. When I was a little girl I'd recite poems to my parents. They were the only ones I could do it in front of without wanting to crawl off and hide in embarrassment." Looking at the board she reaches for a sweet roll as she studies it. "This is why I never bet on these games." The sweet free hand reaches out to move a piece. "Would you like to be? I mean, would you like to consider yourself like that?" Biting her lip she leans back against the couch and tucks her feet under her, skirt pulled down to cover them up. If she's going to show a lack of manners by sitting on the floor she may as well be comfortable. "You know, your back is not going to thank you. I promise to never tell a soul you sat on the floor and played a game with me to maintain the dignity of your position." Ok, she is teasing now, although she cannot look at him as she does so, instead peering into her klah.
J'cor's smile is entirely wry this time, as he leans back from his doubled-up position - and this time, protesting bones do creak and crack against their long imprisonment in that uncomfortable stance. "You will never be able to, for I shall not sit on the floor." Standing, he sidesteps his chair and pushes it back, making room between it and the small table. Then he pulls off the bottom cushion and drops it where the chair just was. "I shall sit Igen-style, both maintaining the dignity of my position and making it quite difficult for you to keep the secret of my origins from entering your history." He speaks with his usual polite restraint, but the tease underlying the words is impossible to miss. He gives it a moment to set in, while he considers the board over klah, then scales back to her previous question, a more serious subject. "I would not like to consider myself warlike. There are weaknesses and strengths in this."
Miniyal claps a hand over her mouth before she can do something too undignified like giggle like a little girl. Hey, he caught he off guard so she can be excused. Once she's back in control she finishes off her sweet roll, licking her fingers and then taking up her cup for a drink. So, sometimes her manners lapse. She focuses on the board, studying it rather than the man across from her although her attention remains focused on the latter. She's quite good at giving that impression without making the dreaded eye contact. "May I be told why? I mean, why don't you want to be considered as such. How would you like to be considered. Umm. And, I'm just curious. I promise nothing said in the confidence of a chess game will be recorded down in my history. Besides, my brain is too full of trying to remember how the pieces move. I always get confused." Shaking her head she sets her cup down and folds her hands in her lap.
J'cor settles into his Igenite seat with the ease of longtime familiarity, stretching his back up to ensure that his posture does not fail him in the absence of a chair back's support. "Ah. Well, I would have boasted, at one time, myself to be a peacemaker." A chess piece makes it little move on the board, and once he's set it down his hand diverts to the rolls. "So that is certainly how I would like to be considered. It is not, if we are being candid, reflected in my actions here, nor in the general view of me; and perhaps a warlike attitude would have served me better in this particular function, since I might have preempted some of the problems which occurred." Always correct and well- (or over-) spoken, there is a remarkable note of distance in this last phrase, as though he needed to detach himself from it. One can well guess, then, the specific 'problem' he is thinking of. "But I am not comfortable with aggression. I only concede its necessity it certain cases where a diplomatic solution is not possible or, rather, is not practical."
Miniyal is not as interested in the board as in the words now. She nearly rests her elbows on the table, but recalls herself and covers it up by reaching for the jug to refill her cup. While she's holding it she tips it towards him in case he might like his topped off. Either way, filling his cup or not she sets it back down when done and reaches for the sweetener. Again with the adding and the stirring. The same number of times although it's not likely to be noticed, it's a subtle ritual. Compulsion. "I'm not sure there was anything that could be done. I mean things here were so. . .bad. I never met her. Not that there's a reason I should have. Me and lots of people never met her. I'm really sorry for your loss. I can't imagine. . .I mean. I'm sorry." Biting her lip she falls silent and removes the spoon from her klah to set it back down on the table by the sweetener. "Wow. Sorry, I didn't mean to make things drag off onto something sad, you know? I should have planned a conversation out in my head. Is that weird? Probably. If I do that ahead of time and try really hard I can not say the wrong thing. Even then I don't always, of course. I don't agree aggression of a physical variety is every warranted. But I do admit that I've never been in, or ever will be in, a position to have my beliefs tested by an actual. . .well, test."
J'cor is in the middle of a klah sip - he'll need to refill it any moment, at the rate he's going - when Miniyal abruptly, directly addresses the question of Yevide. His gaze lowers into the diminishing contents of his mug, making no further effort for a long moment either to drink or to refill it. On his side of the room, a little bronze statue stirs, his wings stretching up slightly with a shivering motion before he resettles over the loud noise of wingsails brushed together. "The actual test does tend to change one's perspective. I do not know whether that is because decisions become more clear in practice, or if the pressure of making them becomes more distracting." Suddenly he is very busy with his klah, refilling the cup (though it's not, really, entirely empty yet) and taking his sweet time to stir in the sweetener.
Miniyal lifts her head from her own cup and turns to look over towards where Karth rests. "Did I upset him too?" she asks quietly, sounding guilty. "I'm sorry. I just came to play chess. I'll go." Setting her cup down she stands up, managing to hit the table with her leg and knocking over several of the chess pieces in the process. "Sorry. I always do this." With someone else she might stomp her foot here to show her annoyance at her own self, but that's something she doesn't do for just anyone. It being much too adorable and such. Well, someone likes it! "Thank you for a nice evening, sir. I'm sorry I cut it short. You can keep the board. Sorry." Mumbling something she turns and steps around the table to go.
J'cor has, while he gathered his klah together, regained some of his composure. "/I/ have upset him," he responds, keeping his voice carefully detached and his gaze levelly fixed on his drink. "I would not like to think that I have upset you, too, and driven you off. However -" a pause here, the cup lifted for an exam and then lowered, his pretense of interest in it given up, though he still does not look at Miniyal. "However, the topic does need to change." Staring absently into the distance, he takes a distracted sip of his newly prepared klah.
Miniyal bites her lip and turns back around. "No. I upset myself. And I upset the board. My brain moves here and there and I can't always stop my mouth from saying everything that it thinks about everything." A look around the room and she takes a few steps back the other way. Before she sits back down she frowns a moment in thought. But, whatever she might have said she does not and instead just retakes her seat. "Alright. You pick the topic. You can pick anything you want. Ask me anything. I know, how exciting." Keeping her hands folded in her lap she manages a hint of levity in her tone. "You should be honored, you know. I don't normally give people that chance unless I've been drinking too much /and/ have known them most of my life."
J'cor did not even notice the upset of the board, and now he notes with surprise the several pieces lying listlessly on their sides. Fittingly, for what started the conversation, like fallen warriors. "Well," he says, reaching out to pick up one of the pieces. If he does not return it to its place, it does not much matter to him. "I feel as though I should have an important question ready for such an honor. I regret my lack of preparation, but - fortunately - know of at least one way out. Namely, since I can ask you anything, I choose to ask what you would most like to speak about." He puts the last chess piece on its feet, and lightly draws his hand away.
Miniyal could, of course, right the pieces back to exactly where they were. It wouldn't be any trouble at all, but she doesn't seem to care. "That is so cheating." Shaking her head she takes up her cup again for a drink. It buys her some time to figure out exactly what she wants to talk about. By the time she sets her cup down she still has no topic and so she studies the board and without thinking reaches out to change a couple of pieces to where they were. Pulling her hand back she mumbles, "I think that's right." Shrugging as if she's not sure she continues to try to think of something she actually wants to talk about. Finally she just grabs something out of the air. "I've been thinking a lot about dancing lately. I think it's not so much an expression of socialization as a way to make people feel inadequate if they are unable to master dance steps as quickly as other people in their peer group. I mean, lots of people can't do it, you know? But I've been reading these books on dance steps and if you study the popular dances of different historical times you can sort of get an idea of how people think. I mean, I do think so. It's like poetry and other writings. There's so much we can learn from them all. I think it's interesting to study. Social history, you know? Not events, but the people. People are more interesting." Especially dead people she doesn't have to talk to.
J'cor's mouth turns up into a faint, cornered smile when accuses him of cheating. "I adapt my strategy, that is all." This time, perhaps to help the continued diffusion of tension in the room, he allows a note of humor to enter his tone. While she rearranges the pieces, he finishes off a roll, but her selection of topic makes him raise a surprised glance to her. "Dancing," he says at last, once she's finished her reflections. The cornered smile makes a reappearance while he lightly brushes roll-crumbs off over a saucer. "And social history. There is certainly a connection. In my home - I refer to my home hold - dancing is often an integral part of our celebrations. I have argued with my brother - recently, in fact - as to the significance and tradition of these dances. Have you spoken to Roa?" Apropos of nothing.
Blink. The change of subject causes Miniyal to tip her head to one side and look puzzled. "I speak to Roa nearly every day. I do work for her after all." Then she shakes her head and smiles briefly. "It was just what came to my mind. Because I saw B'ren in the kitchens and he teases me about not being able to dance. Because I can't. Uncoordinated fat women rarely dance well I've found. Anyway, I could have just as easily mentioned popular songs. But then you were liable to have me break out into some song my parents used to sing to me as a kid and I thought to spare you since I already delivered my impromptu performance tonight." Here she stops, clearing her throat and reaching for her cup to take a drink. "I don't know if I've thanked you or not, sir, for letting me come visit. So, thank you. I enjoy getting to come talk to you."
J'cor watches her response carefully and patiently, accepting her puzzlement with a calm nod. "I fear you will think my insincere, for just echoing your thanks, but it is a pleasure, Miniyal. Thank you for visiting." He turns his fingers over for examination, making sure that the last crumbs of sweet roll have been cleared from them, and then (since she's restored the the board) moves one of his pieces. "The reason I mention Roa," he says, his fingers hovering and unwilling to let go while he considers the implications of his move, "is that she has recently begun to take dancing lessons from my niece, and as you are her assistant I thought the subject might have come up for that reason. In between your work discussions, of course." A faint smile traces its way onto his features, and his hand withdraws from the chess piece.
Miniyal shakes her head slowly and doesn't smile this time. "No. I don't see any reason to think you insincere. I'd rather think if you were not speaking the truth you would not speak." She expects, after all, people to do as she does. "We don't really talk much. Roa and I." Frowning at the board she studies the move not quite made yet. "I'm not sure exactly why she hired me. I don't think we get along so well. I'm not. . .I don't know. I wonder if she only wanted me because-I don't know." Falling silent she reaches for a sweet roll so she might have an excuse to stop talking. Breaking off a piece she takes her time with it as she continues to study the board and not speak.
J'cor, while he waits for her to study the board, props his hands on his knees and uses this position to push himself up, stretching his back. For all that he's long been familiar with the Igenite posture, he hasn't practiced it in a while, and his muscles protest slightly. "Because?" he prompts mildly, raising a look to her face. A smile and a small shrug allows her to dismiss the prompot if she wants to; he, for his part, will simply reclaim his klah mug for a long, slow drink.
Miniyal continues to study the board quietly with one hand hovering over this piece and then that piece without touching any of them. Pulling her hand back she worries at her lower lip. "I'm not sure. Maybe she thinks I am something I am not. It seems to be something that is a problem for me." Without much apparent thought she moves a piece and then pulls her hands back to take up her cup and drink. "There are other possible reasons, but as they touch on someone I've done my best not to bring up in conversation I shall let them pass. It's not very much of a problem I think as, if past jobs are any indication, I won't be in this one very long. How old were you when you impressed? I imagine if it were young enough that would have made it easier for you. I mean, not worrying so much about what path you're going to take."
J'cor's eyebrows tilt up - someone she's done her best not to bring up - but he follows the same course, passing over the mention of that person and onto the chess board. His turn to consider a move. "I was fifteen. I will admit it did make things easier. Prior to my impression, I had been in the place of the second-son - although I had no wish to usurp my elder brother, there is always the classic question of what the second-son, with little enough to inherit, will do with what he has." A pause, while he moves his piece across the board. A quick grin, with actual teeth, flashes over his features. "I was going to be a tanner. Karth thought otherwise."
"A tanner. I don't see it, but I guess that was long enough ago." Miniyal studies the board and then makes her move before stretching, not being used to sitting on the floor at all as it is not proper. "I thought I was going to be head of records. Well, it's what I wanted to do when I wasn't doing it. I don't know what I thought it would be, you know? But it wasn't that." Head tilting to the side Miniyal grins. "Actually, when I was a kid I wanted to be something totally different, but that's neither here or there. And, I really think we don't need to talk about this anymore. At least as it pertains to me." Biting her lip she asks, "Has Roa talked to you about our research?"
J'cor's eyes sparkle with quiet amusement. She doesn't seem him as a tanner? As he shifts in his cross-legged posture on the cushion, exchanging one top-leg for another, he sends a quick look across the room. His dragon catches the look but quietly snorts it off, tucking his face down behind the obstructing arm of his stone couch. Dismissed by his dragon, he returns to Miniyal in time to catch her grin, but though he offers his own smile as encouragement, he decides not to push the issue when she calls it closed. All he does is tilt his head, curious, but quiet on the matter. "Your research? She has not."
Miniyal picks at the remains of her sweet roll in silence, using her time to study the board although at this point it's a mere backdrop to her thoughts and not anything she's really paying attention to. "She asked me to study the records of the other. . .I'm not sure she wanted me talk about it. But she said she was going to talk. . .I'm a lousy assistant." Again she hides behind her cup until it is empty and then once it is set back down she shrugs. A decision has been made it seems. "Well, she was concerned about the frequency with which queens rise here at the weyr. I don't know why she hasn't come forward with our results. I'm a little concerned actually. I mean, I don't think she's the only one looking into it and if. . .I think I'm making a mess of this. She's going to be mad."
J'cor frowns, but his thoughts are turned inwards. So recently ducked behind his couch, there is the sound of rustling furs as Karth feels a need to rearrange himself, the great bronze side heaving over as he shifts to lean into the wall. "The frequency? I had imagined that Tialith - or Citalth -" he stops himself, lips pressed closed, and fills the silence with the clinking of a spoon in his klah mug, as though the sweetener needed to be stirred up again. "Ah," he says, as though his previous sentence had not occurred, and he were only just responding to her words. "Well, our talk here continues to be in confidence. I will not discuss the subject with Roa, certainly, if you feel it would endanger your position."
Miniyal bites her lip and then shakes her head. "No, I mean, yes. I think. . .shards." One hand sweeps at hair that is already tucked behind her ear before both hands are folded in her lap. "I checked at the other weyrs and examined their records. There's actually. . .it's like we're missing a queen here. There should have been one between Nenuith and Citalth. And no queens since then. . .It's not at all like the patterns at the other weyrs." Frowning a moment she gestures with one hand. "There's too many of them here we think. With the caucus, you know? I mean, notice how every time a queen is transferred or. . .goes she rises soon after. I'm pretty sure that's why both Roa and Sinopa have been spending more time away. Trying to kick start the whole process or something. I know she was going to tell. I mean, she wasn't just keeping it to herself."
J'cor sets the spoon back on its saucer with a faint, careful clink. "My history at this weyr is admittedly short, but I was under the impression that the queens you refer to - Vasyath and Nenuith, I assume - were expected to rise more or less at the time they did. Regardless of their locales at the time. I can certainly see, however, that given the number of queens here for the Caucus, as well as the Reaches' own complement, the lack is ... striking." Speaking of which, he takes her pawn, the pieces clinking together as he displaces hers and removes it from the board. "And that Tialith and Citalth are indeed leaning heavily on the 'more' side of their expected rising."
Miniyal seems surprised she's lost her pawn. Frowning she leans forward and studies the board as if trying to figure out exactly how this occurred. One hand twitches on the edge of the table as if she'd play out every move again if she could. "Nenuith was overdue." She would know and she's stops, trying to dance around a delicate subject once more. Finally she just does what she always does. "It's how Yevide was brought in. If Nenuith had risen when she should have Diya would have been senior. Citalth is overdue and Tialith is old enough she should have risen by now for her first flight. Roa has all my research, but if you want to see it I can get it for you. There's patterns to the flights and you can see them. I may not be good at much, but I'm very good at research and compiling information."
J'cor's mouth forms an unspoken 'ah' when Miniyal gives in to habit and tells Yevide's transfer like it is. Or, was. He does not, however, seem offended; a bit guarded, perhaps. "It does form a rather complete picture, when you put it that way. I imagine that other weyrs who have sent their juniors here for Caucus are, then, also feeling the lack - it is one less queen producing for them, of course, as well. A problem, then, that will persist even if Tialith or Citalth should rise soon."
Miniyal, talking about her research, has pretty much forgotten her part of the game. With one hand she reaches out and moves absently one of her pieces. A bad move. "Yes. And, actually, there's cases where weyrs with a gold sent to caucus actually wind up with another one there. To make up for the one here I imagine. Roa was thinking of ways to help solve it I believe, but I guess she got sidetracked with everything else she was doing." Well, it's an attempt to protect her employer. "It's actually interesting. I only went back a few years before the caucus was formed, but I would have loved to be able to study things more seriously. . .to go as far back as records would allow. I've never really thought on that before. I mean, the cycle. I mean, I grew up here, but I wasn't that old when the caucus started so I guess I never noticed."
J'cor is puzzled of the bad move, and frowns at the board while he tries to figure out wherein lies the trap. "As a bronzerider, I confess, I have long been keeping tabs on the flight schedules of queens in my own weyr. I have not done so as a question of discovering patterns, however, but for my own benefit; I never attempted a more comprehensive analysis. I can say, however, that I have rarely seen two queens rising close to each other - save once, the clutches have all had time to hatch before a new queen rose."
Miniyal is just now realising the bad move, but shrugs it off with a quiet sigh as she reaches for the klah to refill her cup. "I realise it's needed and all, but I always saw it as an annoyance. More people here getting underfoot. Holders. . .umm. Anyway, it's just sometimes a hassle. But, I never really paid attention beyond that as it's not something that really factors into my life beyond something going on out there." As in out in the rest of the world outside her little corner. "It would be interesting research. It'd be nice to have it all compiled together to so one didn't have to go all over Pern to figure out what was going on. I wish we had a central place to store records from all the holds and weyrs. It's not as if it would be too hard to make an extra copy of everything when it's written and send it on somewhere."
J'cor eventually takes her piece, since it seems so exposed, with a weak smile and shrug: either he's walked into a trap, or he's taken advantage of her distraction. Whoops. Picking up his klah (they're both draining it at quite a rate), he holds a sip of the cooling stuff in his mouth for a little while as he considers. "Well, if any library were to meet such a description, it would be this weyr's or the Harper Hall's - the Hall, of course, notably more so. I take it, though, that it doesn't satisfy you. Perhaps you mean a - non-affiliated place, as it were? But I imagine any such place would be under someone's thumb eventually."
Miniyal winces as she loses her piece. As if she takes the loss personal. Not that he took it, but that she lost it. Heaving a sigh she is more careful now, studying the board and trying to focus on the game and not the conversation although it's the first time in a long time she's done that. "This weyr's is not bad. It has notable lapses. As for Harper. . .even they don't have everything. I mean, I did go there and look for some things, but it's not all there. Not the details. I still had to go everywhere else to find stuff. Besides, I don't really agree with the way they do things at Harper. Locking up information as if it should not be there for everyone to read. It's offensive." Now she moves, trying to correct for her mistake.
J'cor has switched places with her, then, for he now considers the conversation more carefully than his moves on the board. He starts to move a pawn, changes his mind, and returns it to its place. "The weyr's collection is organized, I would imagine - I have spent less time in it than others - around the needs of its Caucus classes. Frankly, the room is not large enough to hold as many records as would be needed in such an undertaking." He pushes a knight forward with one hand and takes up a roll with the other, pausing a moment to reflect before he starts eating it. "Though a wholly unaffiliated library would be an impossibility, I could conceive of a place with the stated goal of open records-access. It would start small, I imagine, but like-minded persons might contribute their own copies to such an ideal."
Miniyal wrinkles her nose upon her sip of klah when she discovers she forgot to sweeten it. With a shrug she takes another drink. So it's not the lack of sweet that is offensive, but the unknowing of such a state. "It's true. I mean, we don't have enough space as it is and I wish we had more. . .well, that's not really my concern anymore. The head of records will do as he sees fit. The whole problem starts with a suitable location, of course. Anywhere it goes the people it resides with will feel some extra ownership of it. It's what people do. It's not even. . .it's not something I've put a lot of thought into. Not like other things. It's just one of many things that has come into my head over the turns that I like to think about every now and again." Looking at the board she frowns, staring at every piece on both sides before shaking her head and making another move.
J'cor has a surprise of his own in store when he tilts his klah mug and finds it, except for a very thin layer at the bottom, empty. He tilts the mug back towards him, investigating its contents just to confirm that he's run out; with a shrug, he reaches for another refill. Neither of them will sleep well tonight - though that's no problem for Miniyal. "It seems you have many such things coming into your head," he remarks as he pours. "Which is hardly to say that's a bad thing. Quite the contrary. I do wonder, though, which ones you are working on, of your limitless supply." A thin, distracted smile here as he finishes up the cup, and sets the jug back in its place.
Miniyal looks at the jug and tips her head over as if it is a new puzzle. "I shall make a note next time to bring more. Or to play faster and talk less. Unless you will have too much trouble sleeping because of it. It is no fun being awake all night." His comment draws her head up to look over at him and she smiles, quieting a laugh. "I have a list in my head. I've had a lot of. . .spare time over the turns to think of things I think would make some things better. Most of them wouldn't be interesting to anyone but me I am sure. It may not be a bad thing, but it's mostly studies in futility. I can't really-I'm good at ideas and I can formulate how to bring them about reasonably well, but I can't ever figure out how to start them. It involves, well, being able to speak to people. At some point you always have to talk."
J'cor, bringing the refilled cup (which he, unlike her, remembers to sweeten) to his lips, stops himself before he drinks and stares down into the cup. "Ah, well, perhaps I drink excessively, but I do not - anticipate I will have much trouble sleeping." Realizing suddenly that it's still his move, his non-cup-holding hand flicks out to move a piece. "I still insist that a written tract, perhaps outlining the need for and benefits of your proposed records hall, would be a more powerful tool than you seem to think it. And, it has a certain elegance," he notes, turning a small smile up at her.
Miniyal nods her head and continues to watch the board. Glancing up she makes note of the smile and then ducks her head again to look at the board. "I'm working on it. But. . .but if you can't talk about it. I mean, they make questions. A properly written tract will encourage people to talk about it and you have to be able to answer them intelligently. Without sounding like, well, me." Wry this time is her smile and she reaches out to make a move that's not entirely wise although doesn't put anything into jeopardy just yet. "When I'm done will you provide me with your opinion? Of what I have written. So I might make corrections before seeing about letting anyone else see it? Although it could be awhile. If you change your mind by the time I'm done it's nothing to worry about. I'll understand." She always understands people avoiding her. Even if it hasn't happened yet.
J'cor's smile pulls higher for the question, and before she even gets to her preemptive politeness in excusing him, he nods. "Certainly so, Miniyal; I'm honored that you ask my opinion. Nor is it my habit to go back on my word once given, so you have my word." Punctuating the promise, he moves one of his pieces with the faint drop as it reconnects the board. "It is something of an inevitability, when one enters the public sphere, that one will find disagreement. People think of things you had not thought of, even with the highest preparation; it happens sometimes." He shrugs. "On the other hand, it is not such a horrid thing to be found wrong, for by finding new weaknesses in your argument you may be able to eliminate them on further thought."
"Thank you. Oh. I didn't mean to imply you would be the sort to go back on your word." Miniyal is earnest now as she looks up from the board and at her opponent. One hand reaches out and moves a piece, sloppy but it's too late by the time she realises it so she just shrugs and sips again at her klah. "I don't mind if I am wrong. But people who, well, debate things. I mean, I can't do that. Discuss what's wrong? I'm not so great at that. But we keep. . .I don't know, winding up on me. What do you want to change? I mean, is there anything you would like to do? Some project that's on your mind?"
If Miniyal is failing to make wise moves, J'cor is failing to take advantage of them, now that he's been distracted. And that question is, indeed, a distracting one, for it brings the Weyrleader's chin up in startlement. "I?" His gaze trails over to the lump of motionless bronze that is his dragon, but the motionlessness persists. He returns to Miniyal, lowering his chin with something of an effort. "I find myself caught up in the day-to-day details, I am afraid, rather than any more overarching plan. A personal failing or the demands of my knot, I don't know." He concedes this somewhat wryly, trying and failing to twist a smile up for it.
Miniyal is not someone who will pry, much. So she takes his answer at face value and simply nods her head. Finishing off the sweet roll she's been picking at for some time she brushes a few crumbs from her fingers. "See? I think that would be nice sometime. Not having so much time to think about so much. Sometimes I feel like there's just not enough to do. I prefer to be busy. Spare time is not wise for me. I tend to cause trouble for myself I think. I don't think I've ever been that busy. Too busy to consider things that I likely never do anything about. Navan says it's because I don't have a purpose yet. But I'm thinking there's not much chance of finding one at this point so I am resigned to having too much time to think."
J'cor is not typically someone who will pry, and yet he can't miss this particular opportunity. He pauses to make his next move, leaving a pawn unprotected so he can set himself up to take her rook. That done, he leans back somewhat and presses his hands together above his lap. "If I may ask - and I hope it will not get me in trouble, though you should feel free not to answer - what /is/ this point? I cannot imagine there is a cut-off point for involvement in the issues that most concern you."
Miniyal blinks, looking at the board and then up. Rather than take the pawn she stares at the rest of the pieces. "I think you reach a point where you've been uncertain for so long that it's just easier to remain that way." More blinking and she moves a piece, leaving his pawn untouched. "Things just start to seem less clear after time I think. I think it's possible to reach a point where it's been so long since you've been able to make a change that it's just easier-it's just different for everyone is all."
J'cor puts a pincer move on her rook, making it impossible to save without sacrificing another piece. "Well, things always do seem simpler when one is young, or so the old believe. I suspect that it is equally difficult for all ages, but the longer one goes on without managing it, whatever 'it' may be, the more one becomes accustomed to thinking it impossible."
Miniyal mumbles something to the board, either because she sees her endangered piece or in response to something that he says. Biting her lip she takes up her cup and drinks from it until it is empty. She makes no move to steal the last of the klah from the jug. Instead she stares at the board. "I feel old." More mumbling, but those words at least are clear enough to understand. Looking up she grins sheepishly. "Sorry, well, I do. I always have. Maybe that's my problem. I don't even recall being a child. Not in the way I hear most people recall such a time." Closing her eyes after looking at the board again she lets the rook go and makes another move.
J'cor blinks up at her at these words, meeting her sheepish grin and then blinking back down to the board. Although his next move is obvious - he's been setting it up for two turns - yet he hesitates before making it. "The type of childhood," he says, switching his knight into the spot, "depends on the type of the child." Her rook gets move to the edge of the board, and set up there next to other pale companions. "And a somber childhood is a childhood yet. You cannot be old, Miniyal." His voice drifts into faint detachment as he reaches for his klah mug, taking it as his focus rather than her.
Miniyal watches her rook be taken without so much as a sigh. Biting her lip she looks at the board. "Maybe not physically. But that doesn't mean that I don't feel old. I don't think this is working." Whatever it is that is not working, other than the game, is not explained. Now she hesitates before her move, fingers lightly touching her next piece as if she's afraid to lose it to. Still, the game cannot continue if she doesn't make a move and so she does. "I hated childhood. No one takes you seriously."
J'cor does not make a move, however, taking more time to consider the board in the absence of her rook. "Of course. Because you are a child." He shrugs, as if there is nothing else to expect in this: children are treated like children. "Being old, however, while we associate it with greater wisdom and the respect we were denied in our youths, rarely brings the connotations it professes. It is no more than being old, and does not come with any particular set of behaviors or worldview; and if you have not already, in youth or middle-age, earned the distinction you seek it will not come as a product of gray hairs."
Miniyal laughs softly as her head shakes. "I don't want that. I don't think. . .some people." Clearly she spoke before her brain sorted out what she was going to say. "Not all children don't have anything important to say. Just like not anyone who has lived a long time has anything important to say. I just think we look at a person's age and judge them by it rather than the person." Seeing the board she shakes her head again and instead looks over at the weyrleader. "I don't think age makes a difference. But society does. And it's. . .wrong. It doesn't make sense."
J'cor puts on a little smile. "Well, there being no important distinction between the young and the old-" he lets the sentence trail off with a small flick of his fingers that winds up with him moving his piece. "It is inconvenient for those judged by such standards, and convenient for those who judge them. With all the time in the world we could everyone their fair consideration; lacking it, however, we fall back on simpler ways of sorting. I don't believe people, or at least most people, do it out of a particular desire to dismiss and belittle others, but rather out of a necessity of keeping up with their own demands upon themselves and upon their time."
Miniyal watching the board, the move, where it leaves everything else. A hand reaches for her cup before she recalls it is empty and so it drops back into her lap as she leans forward another inch to look at the board as if it will make more sense the closer she looks at it. "I know. I mean, I don't think. . .I know I sound a lot like I disagree with everything that everyone does, but it's not true. I'm just bothered so much by some things that it makes it hard to separate. It's a failing. I am trying to fix it, but so far I don't seem to be having much luck. Hesitation again as she moves her next piece, trying to fix what mistakes she's made before and salvage something.
"Mmm, disagreement is a sign you are thinking." J'cor's answer is a little bit distracted, but then, he is studying the board. "The latter is of benefit, and the former is a means to the latter. It would only be fair, as you yourself have some anxiety about disagreements, to bear in mind the anxiety of others in the same case, and make an effort to clarify your what bothers you so that you disagree with it, as well as to ensure their comfort to what level you can. However, I would hope you do not intend to cut out your disagreements entirely from your conversations." Finished, he moves his piece.
Miniyal laughs, a wee bit on the wry side. Head still bent to look at the board she fiddles absently with the ring on her finger. "If I stopped disagreeing in conversation I doubt I would have much to say. I'm a disagreeable sort, didn't you know that, sir?" Making her move she then leans back again and tilts her head up once more. It may not have been the best move, but if nothing else it will ward off defeat for another round. "It's not even that I have anxiety over it. I mean, no more than over any other social situation. It's more that I don't handle it well. If I were, I don't know. More like Corin. But that's not going to happen. People are just frustrating."
J'cor chuckles quietly, easily moving a piece. As there are fewer on the board to watch, now, he does not always feel a need to consider them carefully. "People are people. How is it that we have switched roles, Miniyal? You the pessimist and I the optimist on this matter."
Blink. Startled, clearly not by the move but by what is said, Miniyal looks over and then almost laughs. At the last minute she stifles it and instead shrugs her shoulders. There's not much that can save her although she still makes her moves carefully. At this point the object is clearly just to prolong the game as long as she can before she loses. "Because deep down you're not as pessimistic as you think you are I think. And deep down when I'm willing to admit it I can tell myself that I don't really believe myself when I look on the bright side. I think to be a leader you have to have some optimism somewhere. Even a tiny bit."
J'cor's turn to be surprised. The startled look he raises to her answer turns slowly into a squinted, thoughtful one, marred slightly by the wry downward twist of his smile - for though it turns down, it is still, somehow, a smile. Perhaps defined more by contrast with a grimace than by any mirth behind it. "You have pegged me quite effectively, but I wonder if you give yourself fair treatment. Would you have argued so enthusiastically for the sparing of criminals' lives if you did not, beneath the deep-down layer of pessism you confess, have a note of optimism as well?" Since Miniyal keeps moving her important pieces away from him, he contents himself with picking off a neglected pawn.
Miniyal, at the loss of her pawn, sighs. "I've lost." Well, she will eventually. "We can play this to the bitter end or I can stop trying to prolong the inevitable and just deal with it now." She makes another move, careless this time. The choice is his to take his win or see it through. "The problem with optimism is it leads to disappointment and pain. You rely on people and they always let you down in the end. It's just the way of things. But I am trying to think differently. I'm here." Which, because it will not make sense to him like it does her will earn him an explanation it seems. "I wasn't very happy with you at first. And then when I interviewed you I made a mess of it and it would have been easy enough to never come back, but. . .but I am not going to believe that it is pointless to visit." Chin tilting up she regards him from her spot across the board. "I think, in the end, it might be good for us both to have someone we can just talk to without it being about what is going on and what all has to be worried about the next day. There's no pressure." A pause and a little less sure she adds, "Don't you think?"
J'cor does not need to chase down his victory, however, moving his hands away from the board and flipping them palm-up to accept her surrender. Somewhat joking, the gesture subsides when her answer grows serious, and he watches quite levelly - aside from a small, unsurprised quirk of a smile when she confesses her initial dissatisfaction with him - while she speaks. "I do think," he confirms, putting into his voice and the nod that accompanies it the surety that her own addition lacks. "Though I cannot speak on your behalf ... I'm glad to hear you benefit as well as I, for I have been unaccustomed, save nights when I visit my brother, to spending my evenings in pleasant conversation."
Miniyal, generally tensed up for rejection whenever she puts herself out, relaxes at his agreement. "Well. Umm. Good. Then it is settled. I shall be sure to come by once a seven or so and we can talk. I'll bring more klah." Looking at the chess board she shakes her head. "And quite possibly lose at chess more should you want to play again. But it's good for me to get out and meet people on my own. Even if it means running across a cold bowl at night to get here." There is a pause and her mouth opens to add something before she closes it, seeming to have changed her mind. "I probably should start thinking about getting back anyway."
J'cor's eyes sparkle, clearly if silently amused that she ran across a cold bowl at night to get here. A nod accepts her proposed departure. "I shall be happy to play more games of chess, though I have no intention abandoning my sole strategy - to talk you into distraction - since it secures me such an effective win." He flashes a smile before turning his attention to the board, picking up the pieces and helping the clean-up process. "Don't worry," he notes, "about the cups and such things. I take my breakfast up here, and I can clean them away with my tray tomorrow."
Miniyal gathers up the used cups and places them along with the jug into the basket everything was carried here in. "Oh, alright. It's not a really big deal. Practically on my way to my room, but that's fine." Spares her stopping in the kitchens where gossipy women reside. "I will just have to come up with a strategy to avoid your distraction then." So, there, her tone adds although she wouldn't be juvenile enough to say them out loud. Once everything but the chess set is packed away she rises to her feet, stretching to work out the kinks after sitting on the floor for so long. "Not just improper, but uncomfortable, floor sitting."
J'cor places his fists in the small of his back and bends forward until his spine cracks. "Indeed," he agrees wryly, kicking out his legs. A hand braced on the table helps push him up, against whatever unnamed muscular protests oppose the motion. "Igen has adapted the pillow, but it is woefully ineffective over the long term."
Miniyal smooths down her hair and brushes a crumb from her skirt. "Clearly you need a different table for game playing. You may fix that before I show up next time." Teasing in tone and manner she smiles. "I will let you get back to your book now, sir." More seriously, if in a friendly sort of fashion she adds, "Thank you. I had a lovely night. It was almost worth the cold." This seems to be her farewell statement for she steps around the table once more so she might walk to the door.
J'cor has toned down the formality, but it remains the cordial thing to escort her to the door. "Ah, yes, Deyole - he must feel quite neglected. Thank you for coming by, Miniyal." A smile, in tone and expression, comes with the words. "Good night."