Ready to work
Who: Miniyal and B'rok
Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office
When: The day after this scene.
What: Miniyal shows up for work and begins to exert her own sort of control over the life of the weyrlingmaster. Hey, everyone has to have a hobby. She is a good assistant.
Note: Unfinished, but faded out so we might move on to something else. However, it is sort of important since it shows how they relate once we finish another scene. Also, I was bored so posted.
7/13/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 19:21 on day 18, month 1, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
It's just after lunch and all good weyrlings are going about their day. Which involves classrooms all sorts of things. And for Miniyal involves sitting in the weyrlingmaster's office. Sitting at his desk. Well, he's not in the room using it. So, she will. Besides, she's entitled to use it. Or something. Besides, she's sorting papers. She did some work yesterday before leaving that mostly involved cleaning out the closet and finding someone to haul away the junk that needed hauling away. Determined by her, but that's her job. Today is hidework day and it begins by cleaning off the desk. So, she sorts hides into three piles and every now and again drops one into a box on the floor to be scraped off and reused. Not many, but just a few. As she works she nibbles on cookies she's brought with her. Meant for someone else, but there's extras so why not?
The sound of voices echoes in the hallway. It is the herald that B'rok approaches and that he has someone with him. Miniyal will not see who it is because goodbyes are exchanged before they reach the door. She will overhear the other person calling him 'Rock' though, several times. He rounds the corner and she will see that he has a couple of stitches in his forehead and that he is a little surprised to see her at his desk. No comment though and it is taken in stride, a cookie stole from the plate. "My apologies for yesterday." He says and then changes the subject. "What are you doing today? How is it coming?"
Someone else might have jumped up from the desk she doesn't belong at. However, Miniyal clearly feels she belongs wherever she thinks she does. What she does do is swallow the last of the cookie in her mouth and toss off something that might be a salute. "Sir. Nothing to worry about. I cleaned out the closet." And because she just has to try to push buttons she reaches into her pocket and pulls something out that she tosses onto the desk. It would be an eyepatch like the one he wears. "An extra. Keep it in your pocket. Then you can not freak out." Once she's said it she looks up to watch his reaction. "Sorting out what you need to do and what I can do. Making progress on the old stuff. Let me in here at night, sir, and I can have everything caught up in two days."
B'rok looks between the offered eyepatch and Miniyal. His eye does not narrow and he does not bluster. Instead, he is confused. Even more confused as he puts it in his pocket. "Doesn't it bother you?" He asks her, a little gruffly. "You looked as though you were about to pass out on me. What if you saw the socket? I was embarassed, for your sake." He sits his behind on the edge of the desk to look down at the hidework. "I'm guessing that pile is what I have to sign. There must be forty things."
Miniyal blinks a few times before shaking her head. "What? No, sir. Could care less. Umm." She looks down and takes up the hide in front of her. It gets looked at and then set into a pile. Not the to be signed one. "Forty-three, sir. The oldest is on top. The sight of blood makes me sick." That last sentence is sort of run on from the one before it and hurried out.
B'rok reaches across the desk in front of Miniyal for a quill and an inkpot and drags one of the things into his lap. His signature is neat and efficient, contrary to the mess that he keeps. "Where do you want me to put these?" Her answer makes him adjust his eyepatch -- the one on his eye -- again. "I assumed it would. It bothers me." Self consciously he looks around, finding something else to say. "I see that you got the closet cleaned and the desk moved back. Did you hurt yourself yesterday?"
"Oh, umm. Oh!" Now she gets up although she doesn't look flustered. Only sounds it. "Sit. Sorry. I'll work on the other side." Miniyal moves around the desk and gestures to the cookies he's already helped himself to. "I don't know what kind you like. Of anything. So, I just guessed. Figured everyone likes oatmeal. Or should." Once she's on the other side of the desk she resumes her work. "Stack them neatly on the corner, please. Once they're all done I'll add them to the out-box. I've arranged for one of the others to come pick things up at the end of the day and take them to a friend in records who sees they get where they need to." Sorting pauses so she can look up. "Things always bother us more than they bother other people. It's a rule of nature or something. Supposedly my being fat, ugly, and bitchy isn't such a huge deal always to others like it is to me. Go figure, sir."
B'rok makes no effort to get up after placing the signed record where it is supposed to be. "I should have something to say about lack of confidence in your physical self. Or at the very least, disliking your image. Some bit of encouraging wisdom. But, I was never good at being a hypocrite. Who is your friend in records? Are they trustworthy? I'd at least like to know where they are going." All in one sentence, one thought and one breath. He's looking at the cookies now too. "Oatmeal is satisfactory. Thank you." What he's thinking is that she is strangely thoughtful for someone who is supposed to be a miserable bitch. "What do you believe that I should do in regards to medical records? Create files on individual weyrlings? We have to have copies here, too."
Miniyal's attention goes back to her work and she finishes sorting. It completes the work on the desk from the looks of it. He'll find the drawers organized as well. Which does mean she's been through them all and seen what is in there. Perks of the job. Well, for her. "His name is Bothal. I've known him since I was a child, sir. He's trustworthy. I've used him before for all sorts of things. Umm. That sounded bad, but I didn't mean it that way." Frowning thoughtfully she heads to the closet to open it up and poke around inside. "Need something for between the desk and the box. Let me find something. Umm. Medical records? Locked cabinet here. I'd keep all personal information on weyrlings in a locked cabinet. I have one being delivered later today. Easy to add them to existing files."
"You wanted me to let you in here at night." It is a little bit belated, yes. "Unfortunatly, I cannot do that. I am in here more often than not at night and it is my time to get actual work done." Him, sleep? Way too much to do. "Besides. You should be in the records room... or actually resting a little bit." When he is done saying that little bit she gets a bit of an unusual look from him. "I wouldn't have thought of taking it that way, until you said it. Besides, even if that were so, it isn't my business to care about." A shrug and then a quirk. "What do you mean? Something to fill the floor space? Or did you mean something for decoration?"
"No, sir. It is inefficient to carry them one at a time to the door where the out-box is set." Not on the filing cabinet that caused a ruckus, but on a small end table with two boxes. One for things to be picked up and one for things to be delivered to. Miniyal gestures towards it. "Decoration, sir? Do you want decoration? You don't seem the type. No offense. My mother paints. I have a friend who does sculptures. I know someone who works with wood over at the hold who could do some nice furniture."
B'rok shakes his head. "It's all right. I'll look after it. I wouldn't mind a few things in here but that must be done by me. Thank you for the offer, however. You are being far too kind about this. Almost too helpful." He is wondering what her motives are and it comes out in his voice. "Anyway, what do you recommend then?" He doesn't actually add 'once you've answered my question' but it does seem like it would fit on there pretty easily given the tone of his voice.
Miniyal's nose wrinkles as she examines the desk. "How old is that anyway, sir? Because, I mean, really. If it's been here since R'vain one can only have nightmares about what was done on it. I'd toss it." There's no reason at all to doubt her motives! She just likes to totally take over whatever she is involved with. So long as it doesn't involve being any sort of leader. "Well, if you decide to redo the furniture and want something done especially for you let me know. The man I know does excellent work and will likely give you a bit of a deal since he owes me a favor or two, sir." She comes back from the closet with a flat basket. "This will do for now. Sign and put in here. And, I am not sure what you mean too helpful. Should I do less, sir? You really haven't said anything but see to the hidework. I'm sorry if I am doing too much. Old habit." As if he asked no question at all and she's carrying the conversation on her own.
Fade out.
Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office
When: The day after this scene.
What: Miniyal shows up for work and begins to exert her own sort of control over the life of the weyrlingmaster. Hey, everyone has to have a hobby. She is a good assistant.
Note: Unfinished, but faded out so we might move on to something else. However, it is sort of important since it shows how they relate once we finish another scene. Also, I was bored so posted.
7/13/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 19:21 on day 18, month 1, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
It's just after lunch and all good weyrlings are going about their day. Which involves classrooms all sorts of things. And for Miniyal involves sitting in the weyrlingmaster's office. Sitting at his desk. Well, he's not in the room using it. So, she will. Besides, she's entitled to use it. Or something. Besides, she's sorting papers. She did some work yesterday before leaving that mostly involved cleaning out the closet and finding someone to haul away the junk that needed hauling away. Determined by her, but that's her job. Today is hidework day and it begins by cleaning off the desk. So, she sorts hides into three piles and every now and again drops one into a box on the floor to be scraped off and reused. Not many, but just a few. As she works she nibbles on cookies she's brought with her. Meant for someone else, but there's extras so why not?
The sound of voices echoes in the hallway. It is the herald that B'rok approaches and that he has someone with him. Miniyal will not see who it is because goodbyes are exchanged before they reach the door. She will overhear the other person calling him 'Rock' though, several times. He rounds the corner and she will see that he has a couple of stitches in his forehead and that he is a little surprised to see her at his desk. No comment though and it is taken in stride, a cookie stole from the plate. "My apologies for yesterday." He says and then changes the subject. "What are you doing today? How is it coming?"
Someone else might have jumped up from the desk she doesn't belong at. However, Miniyal clearly feels she belongs wherever she thinks she does. What she does do is swallow the last of the cookie in her mouth and toss off something that might be a salute. "Sir. Nothing to worry about. I cleaned out the closet." And because she just has to try to push buttons she reaches into her pocket and pulls something out that she tosses onto the desk. It would be an eyepatch like the one he wears. "An extra. Keep it in your pocket. Then you can not freak out." Once she's said it she looks up to watch his reaction. "Sorting out what you need to do and what I can do. Making progress on the old stuff. Let me in here at night, sir, and I can have everything caught up in two days."
B'rok looks between the offered eyepatch and Miniyal. His eye does not narrow and he does not bluster. Instead, he is confused. Even more confused as he puts it in his pocket. "Doesn't it bother you?" He asks her, a little gruffly. "You looked as though you were about to pass out on me. What if you saw the socket? I was embarassed, for your sake." He sits his behind on the edge of the desk to look down at the hidework. "I'm guessing that pile is what I have to sign. There must be forty things."
Miniyal blinks a few times before shaking her head. "What? No, sir. Could care less. Umm." She looks down and takes up the hide in front of her. It gets looked at and then set into a pile. Not the to be signed one. "Forty-three, sir. The oldest is on top. The sight of blood makes me sick." That last sentence is sort of run on from the one before it and hurried out.
B'rok reaches across the desk in front of Miniyal for a quill and an inkpot and drags one of the things into his lap. His signature is neat and efficient, contrary to the mess that he keeps. "Where do you want me to put these?" Her answer makes him adjust his eyepatch -- the one on his eye -- again. "I assumed it would. It bothers me." Self consciously he looks around, finding something else to say. "I see that you got the closet cleaned and the desk moved back. Did you hurt yourself yesterday?"
"Oh, umm. Oh!" Now she gets up although she doesn't look flustered. Only sounds it. "Sit. Sorry. I'll work on the other side." Miniyal moves around the desk and gestures to the cookies he's already helped himself to. "I don't know what kind you like. Of anything. So, I just guessed. Figured everyone likes oatmeal. Or should." Once she's on the other side of the desk she resumes her work. "Stack them neatly on the corner, please. Once they're all done I'll add them to the out-box. I've arranged for one of the others to come pick things up at the end of the day and take them to a friend in records who sees they get where they need to." Sorting pauses so she can look up. "Things always bother us more than they bother other people. It's a rule of nature or something. Supposedly my being fat, ugly, and bitchy isn't such a huge deal always to others like it is to me. Go figure, sir."
B'rok makes no effort to get up after placing the signed record where it is supposed to be. "I should have something to say about lack of confidence in your physical self. Or at the very least, disliking your image. Some bit of encouraging wisdom. But, I was never good at being a hypocrite. Who is your friend in records? Are they trustworthy? I'd at least like to know where they are going." All in one sentence, one thought and one breath. He's looking at the cookies now too. "Oatmeal is satisfactory. Thank you." What he's thinking is that she is strangely thoughtful for someone who is supposed to be a miserable bitch. "What do you believe that I should do in regards to medical records? Create files on individual weyrlings? We have to have copies here, too."
Miniyal's attention goes back to her work and she finishes sorting. It completes the work on the desk from the looks of it. He'll find the drawers organized as well. Which does mean she's been through them all and seen what is in there. Perks of the job. Well, for her. "His name is Bothal. I've known him since I was a child, sir. He's trustworthy. I've used him before for all sorts of things. Umm. That sounded bad, but I didn't mean it that way." Frowning thoughtfully she heads to the closet to open it up and poke around inside. "Need something for between the desk and the box. Let me find something. Umm. Medical records? Locked cabinet here. I'd keep all personal information on weyrlings in a locked cabinet. I have one being delivered later today. Easy to add them to existing files."
"You wanted me to let you in here at night." It is a little bit belated, yes. "Unfortunatly, I cannot do that. I am in here more often than not at night and it is my time to get actual work done." Him, sleep? Way too much to do. "Besides. You should be in the records room... or actually resting a little bit." When he is done saying that little bit she gets a bit of an unusual look from him. "I wouldn't have thought of taking it that way, until you said it. Besides, even if that were so, it isn't my business to care about." A shrug and then a quirk. "What do you mean? Something to fill the floor space? Or did you mean something for decoration?"
"No, sir. It is inefficient to carry them one at a time to the door where the out-box is set." Not on the filing cabinet that caused a ruckus, but on a small end table with two boxes. One for things to be picked up and one for things to be delivered to. Miniyal gestures towards it. "Decoration, sir? Do you want decoration? You don't seem the type. No offense. My mother paints. I have a friend who does sculptures. I know someone who works with wood over at the hold who could do some nice furniture."
B'rok shakes his head. "It's all right. I'll look after it. I wouldn't mind a few things in here but that must be done by me. Thank you for the offer, however. You are being far too kind about this. Almost too helpful." He is wondering what her motives are and it comes out in his voice. "Anyway, what do you recommend then?" He doesn't actually add 'once you've answered my question' but it does seem like it would fit on there pretty easily given the tone of his voice.
Miniyal's nose wrinkles as she examines the desk. "How old is that anyway, sir? Because, I mean, really. If it's been here since R'vain one can only have nightmares about what was done on it. I'd toss it." There's no reason at all to doubt her motives! She just likes to totally take over whatever she is involved with. So long as it doesn't involve being any sort of leader. "Well, if you decide to redo the furniture and want something done especially for you let me know. The man I know does excellent work and will likely give you a bit of a deal since he owes me a favor or two, sir." She comes back from the closet with a flat basket. "This will do for now. Sign and put in here. And, I am not sure what you mean too helpful. Should I do less, sir? You really haven't said anything but see to the hidework. I'm sorry if I am doing too much. Old habit." As if he asked no question at all and she's carrying the conversation on her own.
Fade out.