Unnaturalness and stupidity.
Who: Miniyal and R'vain
Where: Weyrleader's office
When: Morning on day 26, month 3, turn 3 of the 7th Pass
What: Miniyal was told he wanted to speak with her and she appears. She's so good like that. Covert information sharing occurs. As well as overt insults.
2/14/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is morning on day 26, month 3, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
Like a good little girl (!) Miniyal appears the morning after she spoke to the weyrleader in the galleries. Well, the day after the day after anyway. Likely she assumed he would still be busy. Not that she bothered checking. She also doesn't bother waiting for after breakfast. Instead she arrives towards the end of breakfast. She does insist on playing the little game. There is not even a knock on the door to announce her presence. Just a push inwards of said door and in she steps. To an empty room. Well, this is too tempting to resist. But resist she does. Well, a little. First she wanders around the room doing nothing at all. Then she wanders by a desk and idly glances at what's on there. Nothing interesting enough to pull her attention for very long and it's back to wandering around. Eventually when she gets tired of that she pulls a small book from her pocket and settles down in a chair to read, and wait. Unfortunately she's not patient enough for that to last overly long. After a few pages she closes the book and rises to her feet again for more prowling. If there's anything she's not seen in here before she's seen it now. At least she doesn't open drawers or cabinets or anything like that. She might have learned something. If there's any nervousness in her pacing she'll just let it be thought snooping when someone arrives.
She'll learn little, if she opens nothing. There's a tray with klah, fresh, and cups, and stuff to sweeten or lighten it. The office is a clean, clean space. It has to be, or the several personalities that use it most might collide, and maybe then there'd be a smoking crater where High Reaches Weyr once stood.
Of those personalities, it is the large, egotistical, red one that arrives. R'vain's bootfalls, heavy and loud, precede him up the steps from the bowl. They carry him into the room, and shuffle a bit as he turns to let the drape into place behind him, blocking out the glare of morning. He turns again, then, and stalks farther in. If he's noticed Miniyal-- he's pretending otherwise. The klah is his aim.
It's best not to snoop overly much until one is aware of the schedule of those she wishes to snoop on. It's a lesson she's been reminded of not too long ago and one she has taken pains to remember. So she just wanders around, one hand on her pocket on her little book. When she hears the footsteps she doesn't bother stopping the wandering either. It's not as if she's doing anything wrong and to stop might give the indication she was. Finally, as he stalks the elusive klah in its natural habitat she returns to the seat she was in for a moment. Down she sits, pulling out her book and opening it to her previous page.
Evidently, he noticed her. "Pour you a cup," he offers, while pouring one for (presumably) himself. He turns over a second with the bad hand, then stuffs that paw back into a jacket pocket, making the addition of sweetener and cream a one-handed task, slowly accomplished. "Sorry I missed y'yesterday. Complicated morning."
"That would be lovely, thank you." If she mocks with an overly polite tone that's just her way. "Nothing in it. Ruins the taste." Miniyal closes her book and tucks it away into her pocket, hands folding in her lap. "Oh, it's fine. I slept in." Well, stayed in bed late which is the same thing, yes? Of course it is. Best not to speculate most likely. "And here I am today so it all works out, right?" All of this spoken without her bothering to turn in her seat so she might watch him. He'll show up with a cup eventually so why bother with moving.
"Y'mean it covers up the taste." R'vain glances up with a quick display of teeth. "Sleepin' in's good." Speculation invited, accomplished, and dismissed in less than four words. The Weyrleader leaves his fixed-up klah on the tray so he can pour Miniyal's black, then take it over to her. He stands well off from her and just holds it out, 'here, take this.' "It works out. How's th'work goin'?"
Head tipping to the side she can't help but ask, "If you don't like the taste why do you drink it?" Shaking her head to clear it of whatever other thought came to mind she reaches for her cup with a nod of thanks. "The work is going well." Miniyal tests the taste of it before saying anything else. "Of course, I admit I drink tea when I'm not overly fond of it, but with enough sweetener just about anything can be good. Unfortunately most of the talk has turned to the distraction on the sands. However, before then there continued to be speculation about the guards. And about the weyrleader who thinks he needs so much assistance to handle those under his authority."
"Somethin' t'drink," R'vain shrugs, simply. Her remark about tea has him nodding. The nods carry on about the eggs-- yeah, eggs, a day later he's as blase about them as he could be expected to be-- and on through the part about the guards. But the long silence that accompanies the nodding suggests thinking, and the Weyrleader's brows furrow as he turns away from Miniyal to go back to where /his/ (ruined) klah awaits. "Ain't sure how t'spin that without causin' anxiety. Guess it'll have t'do."
"Could be a wise spin could be found for it. Were one to go looking for it." Miniyal takes a drink from the non-ruined beverage. Peering into the mug she frowns thoughtfully. "Of course, if I knew why you were so keen on having so many added to what was here I could probably help." Smiling now she shrugs and looks over at him. "No one seems overly concerned at least so I suppose that's something. Unless they need to be. Mostly it's curious. Well, and insulting to you, but that's amusing. Or would be if they had something original to say. I may have to help them out."
"I'll give you a hint," rumbles R'vain, overlooking, evidently, the whole business about insult in favor of picking up his klah; it makes, as Miniyal's already divined, a good subject for study and he joins her in staring into a cup. "Ain't anyone under my authority I got any worries t'speak of 'bout handlin', any worries I can't face up myself, anyway." His tongue goes up over his teeth, resides there a moment behind closed, distorted lip, then slinks back into his mouth where it belongs; he looks up, narrowly, at Miniyal. Only for a moment, then he prowls over toward a chair by hers, intent evidently to join her.
It appears her attention rests solely on that mug in her hands. With her head down and her hair fallen forward, Miniyal almost looks like she's forgotten there's anyone with her at all in the room. When her mug rises again she has to move hair from her face before drinking klah through a sieve of it. "Outside interference. Makes sense. Of course, bringing in outsiders one runs the risk of bringing in someone wrong. Whatever assurances you might be given by the guards. . .well, I suppose they're likely to weed out most of the troublemakers." She ends this line of thought with a shrug. "People are wondering if the new leadership might be concerned with what happened to the old. Those new guards going to look further into what happened with Yevide?"
"Ain't too concerned about candidates," rumbles the Weyrleader, a trace of humor present in the growl. He lays a paw on a seatback and tugs the chair out so he can swing around and descend into it, staring the while at Miniyal. "Probably," of the guards' activities. "Like t'have a harper or somethin' they report to on that. Ideally. Ain't sure I'm goin' t'get ideal. Third party, uninvolved."
"Wasn't talking about the candidates. They're their own problems and it's not anything for me to concern myself with." Miniyal sets her mug in her lap and holds it in both hands. "If you're looking for a harper I could make some suggestions. There's a few I've met over the turns that might be able to do what you want. Or at least steer you towards who to talk to about acquiring the right sort. If you don't want someone you think I might have any undue influence on. Or any influence. Well, either way. Who on the outside are we worrying about exactly? You know the more information I have the better I am able to do my job." She lifts her head up and smiles at this. See. She is so helpful. Just helpful and that's it.
"Third party," repeats R'vain, stubborn much today? "Uninvolved." His nostrils flare, but the raise of her head and revelation of her smile gets a little grin from him, and the Weyrleader shakes his head like he might already rue the day he allowed Miniyal the charter she's somehow got from him to do what she's, well, naturally inclined to do, for pay. "Worried about people don't exist yet. Also like t'have some ability t'support th'Holds, we got t'do that, just in case. Nabol, y'know. Lot of damage there."
Well, if he's just now regretting what he's done he's as slow on the uptake as she's always thought him. "There's a master. Newly made, not more than a few months. He's at the hall right now. He taught here turns ago. When I was a child." Miniyal pauses a moment before smiling again, distracted. "He didn't much like me at the time and I've not endeared myself to him over the turns since he left. But, he's been posted here and there. A teacher. I'll send you to him without even writing ahead to warn him if you like. He doesn't suit there's others, but someone with a bit of authority in his own right is not a bad thing. Nabol though? Interesting. I sent someone there awhile ago. He didn't have much to tell and it was before that mess at. . .where was it? Five Mines? Something like that." Yes, she knows where it is. And, yes she likely figures he knows she knows. Still, it doesn't hurt to play around a bit with her words. Well, in her case it almost always does, but she does it anyway.
"New master be able t'leave th'Hall now and then t'get reports?" It's an important consideration; his first question, greater than anything he could ask-- and evidently feels disinclined to ask-- about Miniyal's own history with the man. "Mess," he adds, curt, instead. Not a question, and after it he drinks klah, so the opening in that door is very narrow-- but unlocked, at least.
"He's no posting right at the moment. I believe he's interested in getting away from teaching specifically although he's not bad at it. There's a few problems I find with his general practice, but his theories are sound." She trails off here and ducks her head. "Sorry. Education's not entirely uninteresting to me although not my main focus of work at the moment." Shrugging, Miniyal takes up her cup to have a drink. "Never did figure out how that whole mess went down. Sneaking in a new lord. Lots of sneaking going on. It's shameful." Yes, she makes that last comment as sarcastic as possible. "So if Lord Odern is trying to take back either his entire hold or at least a part of it he's going to need help. There's only so many holdless he'll attract. One wonders if he'll have any standards. If not it'll lead to trouble down the line. Traders. I know a few off and on who've come through here." If she's thinking of anything else she doesn't share it with these thoughts.
"Oh, Lord Sorel. Th'Conclave, y'know. What d'you expect?" The Weyrleader's nose wrinkles and his lips peel back, showing teeth. "Traders. Holdless. Makin' a Lordship right under another's nose. Might make a man want guards." There, her answer. He lets it sit for a moment while he stares into his klah, like his emerald glare could reheat the cooling liquid. "You talk t'me about education all you want," rumbles R'vain after a moment's thought, a lighter subject; then lets out a little chuckle over the edge of his cup. "But maybe not in public. You make it too easy f'me t'start steaming about Caucus."
His words earn a thoughtful nod and an emptying of her cup like she would do were she drinking something other than klah. As it is she just wrinkles her nose and holds the cup in both hands once more. "Your playground, you mean?" Caucus, likely, and not the Conclave. "I'll keep my ears open and send out some feelers and see if I can come up with anything interesting about anyone seen about those parts of Nabol." There is a stop here and she shakes her head. "But as to education, there's more to it then Sefton's little camp, you know. And there could be more to that were he not so entrenched. Do feel free to rant in private all you want about it. I'll happily go on as I do in public. If for no other reason than it is expected of me."
"Don't mind you goin' on. Look funny if you stopped." R'vain grins over at her. That grin could almost be considered affectionate. Not fond, really; more like-- well, it's a grin that accepts Miniyal's... quirks, if nothing else. "'Course there's more to it. Harper lessons, everywhere, some places better'n others. But that ain't what you mean." A pause. "And it ain't my playground. Nice idea." The grin widens a bit. He can't help it! It's a nice idea, like he says. "Inaccurate."
"Only because you don't push quite that hard. Could be." Her eyes roll, Miniyal doesn't quite get what draws women to him, but she can admit it happens and lose nothing. Her breakfast perhaps if she thinks too hard on it, but she just does her best not to do that. "Anyway, that is quite beside the point. But, I'll save any plans I have for it for a later date. There's other things to do first and while it's on my list it's not at the top." All sorts of things to meddle in. Only so much time. A shame really. Think of all the mayhem left untouched. "And it is not as if I go on all the time. I am capable of being quiet and polite and well mannered." Huff. So there.
"Y'are?" R'vain sets down his cup on his leg, the curve of his battered paw a cradle to hold it steady. "Sometime we should practice bein' all fake and sweet t'each other and see who turns green first," he suggests, not bothering to even try for straightfaced. "And I got reasons not t'push that hard. And other things t'do, b'lieve it or not. Think you always had an overactive estimation of my amount of free time." Eyes narrow, though the grin does not depart. "Which reminds me." Of something.
Rising to her feet, Miniyal frowns at her empty mug. "Being nice to you makes me itch. It's not natural, you know." It's just not, really. She takes a few steps towards the klah and then pauses. Turning back to face him she pulls out her best curtsey and her best polite smile. "May I refill your cup for you, sir? It would just be my deepest pleasure and honor to do so." Fake nice. She can do that. "I don't overestimate it so much. I'm just not interested enough to find new things to hassle you over." Then she eyes him warily. "Reminds you of what?"
The Weyrleader belts out a laugh, barking, rough, and gets up so he can lean out and offer her his cup. "Yes, please," he manages, swallowing the laughter, and tucks back the empty paw so he can bend a bit of a bow in reply. "So nice of you t'offer." Enough of /that/-- "Reminds me, you had somethin' originally you thought I'd be displeased you knew." R'vain's paw behind his back turns over, flattening to become support for his spine as he straightens.
The cup is taken and both of them carried over to be refilled. Hers, straight, and his doctored up as best she can guess he'll want it. Miniyal shakes her head slowly and carries them both back. Stop, hold out cup, step back when it is taken. "I did? Oh, probably. I know a lot of stuff. It's why I can do what I do. I'm not. . .Some people draw people to them. I draw secrets. At first I wasn't trying to. I actively tried to avoid learning things. But eventually it sort of draws you in. I mean, knowing things you shouldn't." Another addiction, one she dismisses with a shrug and a drink of her fresh klah.
Based on the hue of what was left in the bottom, 'a little klah to give the other stuff color' would be a good descriptor for how R'vain's taken to drinking it. His paw retakes the cup and he sinks back into his chair thereafter, looking up at her over its tilted rim as he drinks. "I ain't got a lot of secrets," he rumbles, pressing in tone if not in words.
"That's true. You do a lot that's not proper." Miniyal's free hand lifts to tuck hair back behind her ears and then she retakes her seat as well. "It's nothing at all you would be bothered by I'm sure. What I know. So it's hardly worth saying. Besides, I like knowing that you don't know. It bothers you." See? He gets total honesty. Lucky him. Well, near total honesty.
R'vain tips up the cup again and rumbles a wordless thought into his klah instead of drinking it properly. "Probably right. Better t'keep me wondering than indifferent," he allows after that false moment bought for thought. "I had one other thing t'ask you."
Looking at him over the rim of her cup, Miniyal winks. "Well, sure. I know how to keep a man interested." The sarcasm has come out to play once more. Just a wee tiny bit of it that drenches her words. "Ask away. I've got to finish this cup before I flee for civilized company."
For a split-second he looks at her a little too carefully-- no, that was not quite flirting. No, it was mockery. His shoulders sink and he leans back into the chair, knees going wide, relaxed after all. "Th'Weyrwoman wants a list." She's mocking him, so he has every excuse to split a grin here, right? To balance the tip of his tongue on the tip of one tooth and pause a moment. "Or a chart. Figured you could get 'er one."
"A list or a chart of what?" He's grinning so clearly it is not good, but Miniyal has to know what is wanted before she can run screaming from the room, yes? So she has to ask that question. Up comes the cup and she takes a large drink from it in anticipation of wanting to finish the contents of it so she can leave. So much does she think she'll be wanting to leave that she edges forward to the front of her chair. Yes, all the signs of a normal attempt at fleeing. Although on some level she's likely still amused that no matter how often she mocks him that way he still thinks she might be serious sometime. It's like the big dumb puppy that never catches on that, no, the ball was not thrown, it's just hidden behind your back in your hand still.
The big dumb puppy slumps in his chair. Somehow he does this in a way that's not retreating; it just means his legs take up more space, that the angle of his hips is more obscene, that the sprawl of his arms and the clutch of his cup of 'klah' is more smugly self-satisfied. "Girls, I gather," rumbles the Weyrleader, and lifts his fingers from the arm of the chair for a droll waggle. "Might ask /her/, she ain't ever been completely clear." Oh, yes she has; and so's he, teeth and all.
If he wanted to make her less suspicious he's not done a good job. Unfortunately, what he has done is gotten her curious. Damn him. Miniyal takes another drink and shakes her head. "Right. A list or chart of girls. I didn't think she was the type. I do so love to talk to her though so I'll see about cornering her soon." Yes, she /so/ loves talking to the weyrwoman. Now she does rise to her feet, steps taking her back to where she can leave the cup on the table it came from. When it is empty. "Oh. While I have your undivided attention and all. There's something I need to bring up. Quickly. Before leaving. About well." Right. Here she has to do what she's not ever been able to do before so after finishing her drink, wishing it were something different, and setting the cup down she takes a deep breath. "Right.So.IguessIwanttostand.Iguess.Fortheclutch." See, she needed a deep breath to get it all out in a rush. "So, yea. Is that all? I'd best be going."
R'vain stares at her for a moment, the smug drained out of his self-contented state, even if the relaxation remains. Takes him a few seconds to come up with something to say, but in the end what he comes up with is just, "You want a knot t'go with that, or just givin' me fair warning I might lose my informant?"
Miniyal sighs heavily and then shakes her head. "I don't need a knot, thank you. It's not like I wear the one I have." She gestures towards the absent knot on her shoulder. It's one of those things she just doesn't hold with. Everyone rebels against something in their own way. "And, I don't see any reason for you to lose your informant. The odds of anything happening are pretty slim. And even if by some fluke it did I'll have a plan in place before it happens on how to manage my contacts. I know it's stupid." She stops, nodding once, convinced of her own stupidity. "It's just I never have and this is my last chance and. . .well. Stupid. But don't worry, I plan on seeing that all commitments with my clients are met."
"Ain't stupid. Weyrfolk's right." R'vain shrugs. He'd come off very simple about it all, like he gets asked this question every day (well, one supposes that /is/ possible) and thinks nothing of it, except for the fact he never really fixed the narrowing of his eyes, a certain glinting keenness that suggests he's attending just a little too closely to Miniyal's maneuvers right now. "I'll tell th'Weyrlingmaster, th'Weyrwoman. -- Later. Sound about right?"
"Still stupid. Not the type, but I might learn something from it." Miniyal frowns a moment and then just asks, "What? Later is good. In case I come to my senses. No sense having to embarrass myself before too many people." A step backwards is taken towards the door and she blinks. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea."
R'vain, because she remarks on his expression, rights that expression and shoves himself upright in his chair, then puts his klah aside and gets to his feet. "Nah," he tosses out, not too quickly. "Just never thought of it. Shoulda. S'a-- well." He grins, shakes it off with a pulse of shoulder-shrugging, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Might be best t'make th'chart /before/ you ask her," he says, volunteering a topic change, small kindness. "Just a thought."
Eyes rolling, she turns and heads for the door. When she reaches it she turns back around and sticks out her tongue. "When it's all over and everyone's worst nightmares are laid to rest I'll be sure you get an invitation to my wedding. If only to make you curse and stomp and tear it up and swear not to go so you don't have to be in the same room as him." Shaking her head she turns and opens the door. "I have got to find people to associate with that don't dislike him. Social planning is so awkward." Which is what she leaves him with.
Where: Weyrleader's office
When: Morning on day 26, month 3, turn 3 of the 7th Pass
What: Miniyal was told he wanted to speak with her and she appears. She's so good like that. Covert information sharing occurs. As well as overt insults.
2/14/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is morning on day 26, month 3, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
Like a good little girl (!) Miniyal appears the morning after she spoke to the weyrleader in the galleries. Well, the day after the day after anyway. Likely she assumed he would still be busy. Not that she bothered checking. She also doesn't bother waiting for after breakfast. Instead she arrives towards the end of breakfast. She does insist on playing the little game. There is not even a knock on the door to announce her presence. Just a push inwards of said door and in she steps. To an empty room. Well, this is too tempting to resist. But resist she does. Well, a little. First she wanders around the room doing nothing at all. Then she wanders by a desk and idly glances at what's on there. Nothing interesting enough to pull her attention for very long and it's back to wandering around. Eventually when she gets tired of that she pulls a small book from her pocket and settles down in a chair to read, and wait. Unfortunately she's not patient enough for that to last overly long. After a few pages she closes the book and rises to her feet again for more prowling. If there's anything she's not seen in here before she's seen it now. At least she doesn't open drawers or cabinets or anything like that. She might have learned something. If there's any nervousness in her pacing she'll just let it be thought snooping when someone arrives.
She'll learn little, if she opens nothing. There's a tray with klah, fresh, and cups, and stuff to sweeten or lighten it. The office is a clean, clean space. It has to be, or the several personalities that use it most might collide, and maybe then there'd be a smoking crater where High Reaches Weyr once stood.
Of those personalities, it is the large, egotistical, red one that arrives. R'vain's bootfalls, heavy and loud, precede him up the steps from the bowl. They carry him into the room, and shuffle a bit as he turns to let the drape into place behind him, blocking out the glare of morning. He turns again, then, and stalks farther in. If he's noticed Miniyal-- he's pretending otherwise. The klah is his aim.
It's best not to snoop overly much until one is aware of the schedule of those she wishes to snoop on. It's a lesson she's been reminded of not too long ago and one she has taken pains to remember. So she just wanders around, one hand on her pocket on her little book. When she hears the footsteps she doesn't bother stopping the wandering either. It's not as if she's doing anything wrong and to stop might give the indication she was. Finally, as he stalks the elusive klah in its natural habitat she returns to the seat she was in for a moment. Down she sits, pulling out her book and opening it to her previous page.
Evidently, he noticed her. "Pour you a cup," he offers, while pouring one for (presumably) himself. He turns over a second with the bad hand, then stuffs that paw back into a jacket pocket, making the addition of sweetener and cream a one-handed task, slowly accomplished. "Sorry I missed y'yesterday. Complicated morning."
"That would be lovely, thank you." If she mocks with an overly polite tone that's just her way. "Nothing in it. Ruins the taste." Miniyal closes her book and tucks it away into her pocket, hands folding in her lap. "Oh, it's fine. I slept in." Well, stayed in bed late which is the same thing, yes? Of course it is. Best not to speculate most likely. "And here I am today so it all works out, right?" All of this spoken without her bothering to turn in her seat so she might watch him. He'll show up with a cup eventually so why bother with moving.
"Y'mean it covers up the taste." R'vain glances up with a quick display of teeth. "Sleepin' in's good." Speculation invited, accomplished, and dismissed in less than four words. The Weyrleader leaves his fixed-up klah on the tray so he can pour Miniyal's black, then take it over to her. He stands well off from her and just holds it out, 'here, take this.' "It works out. How's th'work goin'?"
Head tipping to the side she can't help but ask, "If you don't like the taste why do you drink it?" Shaking her head to clear it of whatever other thought came to mind she reaches for her cup with a nod of thanks. "The work is going well." Miniyal tests the taste of it before saying anything else. "Of course, I admit I drink tea when I'm not overly fond of it, but with enough sweetener just about anything can be good. Unfortunately most of the talk has turned to the distraction on the sands. However, before then there continued to be speculation about the guards. And about the weyrleader who thinks he needs so much assistance to handle those under his authority."
"Somethin' t'drink," R'vain shrugs, simply. Her remark about tea has him nodding. The nods carry on about the eggs-- yeah, eggs, a day later he's as blase about them as he could be expected to be-- and on through the part about the guards. But the long silence that accompanies the nodding suggests thinking, and the Weyrleader's brows furrow as he turns away from Miniyal to go back to where /his/ (ruined) klah awaits. "Ain't sure how t'spin that without causin' anxiety. Guess it'll have t'do."
"Could be a wise spin could be found for it. Were one to go looking for it." Miniyal takes a drink from the non-ruined beverage. Peering into the mug she frowns thoughtfully. "Of course, if I knew why you were so keen on having so many added to what was here I could probably help." Smiling now she shrugs and looks over at him. "No one seems overly concerned at least so I suppose that's something. Unless they need to be. Mostly it's curious. Well, and insulting to you, but that's amusing. Or would be if they had something original to say. I may have to help them out."
"I'll give you a hint," rumbles R'vain, overlooking, evidently, the whole business about insult in favor of picking up his klah; it makes, as Miniyal's already divined, a good subject for study and he joins her in staring into a cup. "Ain't anyone under my authority I got any worries t'speak of 'bout handlin', any worries I can't face up myself, anyway." His tongue goes up over his teeth, resides there a moment behind closed, distorted lip, then slinks back into his mouth where it belongs; he looks up, narrowly, at Miniyal. Only for a moment, then he prowls over toward a chair by hers, intent evidently to join her.
It appears her attention rests solely on that mug in her hands. With her head down and her hair fallen forward, Miniyal almost looks like she's forgotten there's anyone with her at all in the room. When her mug rises again she has to move hair from her face before drinking klah through a sieve of it. "Outside interference. Makes sense. Of course, bringing in outsiders one runs the risk of bringing in someone wrong. Whatever assurances you might be given by the guards. . .well, I suppose they're likely to weed out most of the troublemakers." She ends this line of thought with a shrug. "People are wondering if the new leadership might be concerned with what happened to the old. Those new guards going to look further into what happened with Yevide?"
"Ain't too concerned about candidates," rumbles the Weyrleader, a trace of humor present in the growl. He lays a paw on a seatback and tugs the chair out so he can swing around and descend into it, staring the while at Miniyal. "Probably," of the guards' activities. "Like t'have a harper or somethin' they report to on that. Ideally. Ain't sure I'm goin' t'get ideal. Third party, uninvolved."
"Wasn't talking about the candidates. They're their own problems and it's not anything for me to concern myself with." Miniyal sets her mug in her lap and holds it in both hands. "If you're looking for a harper I could make some suggestions. There's a few I've met over the turns that might be able to do what you want. Or at least steer you towards who to talk to about acquiring the right sort. If you don't want someone you think I might have any undue influence on. Or any influence. Well, either way. Who on the outside are we worrying about exactly? You know the more information I have the better I am able to do my job." She lifts her head up and smiles at this. See. She is so helpful. Just helpful and that's it.
"Third party," repeats R'vain, stubborn much today? "Uninvolved." His nostrils flare, but the raise of her head and revelation of her smile gets a little grin from him, and the Weyrleader shakes his head like he might already rue the day he allowed Miniyal the charter she's somehow got from him to do what she's, well, naturally inclined to do, for pay. "Worried about people don't exist yet. Also like t'have some ability t'support th'Holds, we got t'do that, just in case. Nabol, y'know. Lot of damage there."
Well, if he's just now regretting what he's done he's as slow on the uptake as she's always thought him. "There's a master. Newly made, not more than a few months. He's at the hall right now. He taught here turns ago. When I was a child." Miniyal pauses a moment before smiling again, distracted. "He didn't much like me at the time and I've not endeared myself to him over the turns since he left. But, he's been posted here and there. A teacher. I'll send you to him without even writing ahead to warn him if you like. He doesn't suit there's others, but someone with a bit of authority in his own right is not a bad thing. Nabol though? Interesting. I sent someone there awhile ago. He didn't have much to tell and it was before that mess at. . .where was it? Five Mines? Something like that." Yes, she knows where it is. And, yes she likely figures he knows she knows. Still, it doesn't hurt to play around a bit with her words. Well, in her case it almost always does, but she does it anyway.
"New master be able t'leave th'Hall now and then t'get reports?" It's an important consideration; his first question, greater than anything he could ask-- and evidently feels disinclined to ask-- about Miniyal's own history with the man. "Mess," he adds, curt, instead. Not a question, and after it he drinks klah, so the opening in that door is very narrow-- but unlocked, at least.
"He's no posting right at the moment. I believe he's interested in getting away from teaching specifically although he's not bad at it. There's a few problems I find with his general practice, but his theories are sound." She trails off here and ducks her head. "Sorry. Education's not entirely uninteresting to me although not my main focus of work at the moment." Shrugging, Miniyal takes up her cup to have a drink. "Never did figure out how that whole mess went down. Sneaking in a new lord. Lots of sneaking going on. It's shameful." Yes, she makes that last comment as sarcastic as possible. "So if Lord Odern is trying to take back either his entire hold or at least a part of it he's going to need help. There's only so many holdless he'll attract. One wonders if he'll have any standards. If not it'll lead to trouble down the line. Traders. I know a few off and on who've come through here." If she's thinking of anything else she doesn't share it with these thoughts.
"Oh, Lord Sorel. Th'Conclave, y'know. What d'you expect?" The Weyrleader's nose wrinkles and his lips peel back, showing teeth. "Traders. Holdless. Makin' a Lordship right under another's nose. Might make a man want guards." There, her answer. He lets it sit for a moment while he stares into his klah, like his emerald glare could reheat the cooling liquid. "You talk t'me about education all you want," rumbles R'vain after a moment's thought, a lighter subject; then lets out a little chuckle over the edge of his cup. "But maybe not in public. You make it too easy f'me t'start steaming about Caucus."
His words earn a thoughtful nod and an emptying of her cup like she would do were she drinking something other than klah. As it is she just wrinkles her nose and holds the cup in both hands once more. "Your playground, you mean?" Caucus, likely, and not the Conclave. "I'll keep my ears open and send out some feelers and see if I can come up with anything interesting about anyone seen about those parts of Nabol." There is a stop here and she shakes her head. "But as to education, there's more to it then Sefton's little camp, you know. And there could be more to that were he not so entrenched. Do feel free to rant in private all you want about it. I'll happily go on as I do in public. If for no other reason than it is expected of me."
"Don't mind you goin' on. Look funny if you stopped." R'vain grins over at her. That grin could almost be considered affectionate. Not fond, really; more like-- well, it's a grin that accepts Miniyal's... quirks, if nothing else. "'Course there's more to it. Harper lessons, everywhere, some places better'n others. But that ain't what you mean." A pause. "And it ain't my playground. Nice idea." The grin widens a bit. He can't help it! It's a nice idea, like he says. "Inaccurate."
"Only because you don't push quite that hard. Could be." Her eyes roll, Miniyal doesn't quite get what draws women to him, but she can admit it happens and lose nothing. Her breakfast perhaps if she thinks too hard on it, but she just does her best not to do that. "Anyway, that is quite beside the point. But, I'll save any plans I have for it for a later date. There's other things to do first and while it's on my list it's not at the top." All sorts of things to meddle in. Only so much time. A shame really. Think of all the mayhem left untouched. "And it is not as if I go on all the time. I am capable of being quiet and polite and well mannered." Huff. So there.
"Y'are?" R'vain sets down his cup on his leg, the curve of his battered paw a cradle to hold it steady. "Sometime we should practice bein' all fake and sweet t'each other and see who turns green first," he suggests, not bothering to even try for straightfaced. "And I got reasons not t'push that hard. And other things t'do, b'lieve it or not. Think you always had an overactive estimation of my amount of free time." Eyes narrow, though the grin does not depart. "Which reminds me." Of something.
Rising to her feet, Miniyal frowns at her empty mug. "Being nice to you makes me itch. It's not natural, you know." It's just not, really. She takes a few steps towards the klah and then pauses. Turning back to face him she pulls out her best curtsey and her best polite smile. "May I refill your cup for you, sir? It would just be my deepest pleasure and honor to do so." Fake nice. She can do that. "I don't overestimate it so much. I'm just not interested enough to find new things to hassle you over." Then she eyes him warily. "Reminds you of what?"
The Weyrleader belts out a laugh, barking, rough, and gets up so he can lean out and offer her his cup. "Yes, please," he manages, swallowing the laughter, and tucks back the empty paw so he can bend a bit of a bow in reply. "So nice of you t'offer." Enough of /that/-- "Reminds me, you had somethin' originally you thought I'd be displeased you knew." R'vain's paw behind his back turns over, flattening to become support for his spine as he straightens.
The cup is taken and both of them carried over to be refilled. Hers, straight, and his doctored up as best she can guess he'll want it. Miniyal shakes her head slowly and carries them both back. Stop, hold out cup, step back when it is taken. "I did? Oh, probably. I know a lot of stuff. It's why I can do what I do. I'm not. . .Some people draw people to them. I draw secrets. At first I wasn't trying to. I actively tried to avoid learning things. But eventually it sort of draws you in. I mean, knowing things you shouldn't." Another addiction, one she dismisses with a shrug and a drink of her fresh klah.
Based on the hue of what was left in the bottom, 'a little klah to give the other stuff color' would be a good descriptor for how R'vain's taken to drinking it. His paw retakes the cup and he sinks back into his chair thereafter, looking up at her over its tilted rim as he drinks. "I ain't got a lot of secrets," he rumbles, pressing in tone if not in words.
"That's true. You do a lot that's not proper." Miniyal's free hand lifts to tuck hair back behind her ears and then she retakes her seat as well. "It's nothing at all you would be bothered by I'm sure. What I know. So it's hardly worth saying. Besides, I like knowing that you don't know. It bothers you." See? He gets total honesty. Lucky him. Well, near total honesty.
R'vain tips up the cup again and rumbles a wordless thought into his klah instead of drinking it properly. "Probably right. Better t'keep me wondering than indifferent," he allows after that false moment bought for thought. "I had one other thing t'ask you."
Looking at him over the rim of her cup, Miniyal winks. "Well, sure. I know how to keep a man interested." The sarcasm has come out to play once more. Just a wee tiny bit of it that drenches her words. "Ask away. I've got to finish this cup before I flee for civilized company."
For a split-second he looks at her a little too carefully-- no, that was not quite flirting. No, it was mockery. His shoulders sink and he leans back into the chair, knees going wide, relaxed after all. "Th'Weyrwoman wants a list." She's mocking him, so he has every excuse to split a grin here, right? To balance the tip of his tongue on the tip of one tooth and pause a moment. "Or a chart. Figured you could get 'er one."
"A list or a chart of what?" He's grinning so clearly it is not good, but Miniyal has to know what is wanted before she can run screaming from the room, yes? So she has to ask that question. Up comes the cup and she takes a large drink from it in anticipation of wanting to finish the contents of it so she can leave. So much does she think she'll be wanting to leave that she edges forward to the front of her chair. Yes, all the signs of a normal attempt at fleeing. Although on some level she's likely still amused that no matter how often she mocks him that way he still thinks she might be serious sometime. It's like the big dumb puppy that never catches on that, no, the ball was not thrown, it's just hidden behind your back in your hand still.
The big dumb puppy slumps in his chair. Somehow he does this in a way that's not retreating; it just means his legs take up more space, that the angle of his hips is more obscene, that the sprawl of his arms and the clutch of his cup of 'klah' is more smugly self-satisfied. "Girls, I gather," rumbles the Weyrleader, and lifts his fingers from the arm of the chair for a droll waggle. "Might ask /her/, she ain't ever been completely clear." Oh, yes she has; and so's he, teeth and all.
If he wanted to make her less suspicious he's not done a good job. Unfortunately, what he has done is gotten her curious. Damn him. Miniyal takes another drink and shakes her head. "Right. A list or chart of girls. I didn't think she was the type. I do so love to talk to her though so I'll see about cornering her soon." Yes, she /so/ loves talking to the weyrwoman. Now she does rise to her feet, steps taking her back to where she can leave the cup on the table it came from. When it is empty. "Oh. While I have your undivided attention and all. There's something I need to bring up. Quickly. Before leaving. About well." Right. Here she has to do what she's not ever been able to do before so after finishing her drink, wishing it were something different, and setting the cup down she takes a deep breath. "Right.So.IguessIwanttostand.Iguess.Fortheclutch." See, she needed a deep breath to get it all out in a rush. "So, yea. Is that all? I'd best be going."
R'vain stares at her for a moment, the smug drained out of his self-contented state, even if the relaxation remains. Takes him a few seconds to come up with something to say, but in the end what he comes up with is just, "You want a knot t'go with that, or just givin' me fair warning I might lose my informant?"
Miniyal sighs heavily and then shakes her head. "I don't need a knot, thank you. It's not like I wear the one I have." She gestures towards the absent knot on her shoulder. It's one of those things she just doesn't hold with. Everyone rebels against something in their own way. "And, I don't see any reason for you to lose your informant. The odds of anything happening are pretty slim. And even if by some fluke it did I'll have a plan in place before it happens on how to manage my contacts. I know it's stupid." She stops, nodding once, convinced of her own stupidity. "It's just I never have and this is my last chance and. . .well. Stupid. But don't worry, I plan on seeing that all commitments with my clients are met."
"Ain't stupid. Weyrfolk's right." R'vain shrugs. He'd come off very simple about it all, like he gets asked this question every day (well, one supposes that /is/ possible) and thinks nothing of it, except for the fact he never really fixed the narrowing of his eyes, a certain glinting keenness that suggests he's attending just a little too closely to Miniyal's maneuvers right now. "I'll tell th'Weyrlingmaster, th'Weyrwoman. -- Later. Sound about right?"
"Still stupid. Not the type, but I might learn something from it." Miniyal frowns a moment and then just asks, "What? Later is good. In case I come to my senses. No sense having to embarrass myself before too many people." A step backwards is taken towards the door and she blinks. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea."
R'vain, because she remarks on his expression, rights that expression and shoves himself upright in his chair, then puts his klah aside and gets to his feet. "Nah," he tosses out, not too quickly. "Just never thought of it. Shoulda. S'a-- well." He grins, shakes it off with a pulse of shoulder-shrugging, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Might be best t'make th'chart /before/ you ask her," he says, volunteering a topic change, small kindness. "Just a thought."
Eyes rolling, she turns and heads for the door. When she reaches it she turns back around and sticks out her tongue. "When it's all over and everyone's worst nightmares are laid to rest I'll be sure you get an invitation to my wedding. If only to make you curse and stomp and tear it up and swear not to go so you don't have to be in the same room as him." Shaking her head she turns and opens the door. "I have got to find people to associate with that don't dislike him. Social planning is so awkward." Which is what she leaves him with.