Talk of Transfers
Location: Weyrleader's Weyr
Time: Late afternoon on Day 16, Month 4, Turn 2
Players: J'cor, Roa, Tialith, Karth
Scene: Roa gets debriefed.
Weyrleader's Weyr
Rank allows slightly more comfortable furnishings than can be found elsewhere in the Weyr. Done in warm tones, the walls have been white-washed and hung with sunny tapestries to match the shades of the area rugs and the bed coverings. Those rugs divide the room into sections. There is the seating area, suitable for conversation and informal meetings, with its couches and low central table. There is the working area, occupied by a desk and shelves for hidework. Last but not least, there is the living area where the Weyrleader sleeps and stores his clothing and riding gear.
The weyr has two exits. The first is a simple doorway that leads to the stairs and back down to the shared office. The second is a curtained archway that leads to the couch and ledge sized for a bronze dragon. The ledge is some distance above the bowl and accessible only from the air.
Karth sends out feelers to find the young Telgari gold, and send a wordless flicker of greeting when he does. The Weyrleader must speak with her, he explains politely, quite sure that Tialith will know what her he speaks of. If her current occupation can be set aside, he would see her in our weyr now.
The young Telgari queen's presence is a heavy weighted thing, currently evoking something akin to having one's blanket tucked tightly against one's limbs. Her response comes quickly and clear. I have informed her. I have just been oiled in spots. She will take the stairs.
Karth flickers his understanding - again wordless - and then pauses. Her guard should wait outside, he concludes, and then his presence withdraws.
Although J'cor's pipe is not in evidence today - perhaps tucked back in its little drawer - there is a reason why most people try not to smoke inside, and for that reason (and the fact that J'cor does anyway), the whole weyr now smells faintly like pipesmoke. J'cor smells like his usual self, although it's well hidden by the lingering smoke, and sits behind his desk with his hands folded on it. A small but comfortable sofa has been drawn up across from him.
Up the steps and through the door comes little Roa, pausing to murmur something to the much taller shadow that follows. The portal is shut behind her and the Telgari (and only the Telgari) turns around to move towards the Weyrleader's desk through the faint aroma of pipesmoke. She does not sit, but clasps her hands in front of her saying, "Tialith says you wished to see me, sir?" Knuckles are white.
J'cor gestures her to sit, however, unclasping his own hands to wave at the small selected sofa. "Indeed, Roa. My thanks to Tialith." As his surveying gaze takes in the whiteness of her knuckles, he adds a quick smile. "Forgive the unexpected summons. I have heard word from S'lien, and I require an opportunity to speak with you." He leans back in his chair, considering her. "He has not indicated that he wishes to withdraw you from the Caucus. I recall you were concerned."
Roa pulls out the chair and lowers herself into it, hands forcibly parting and resettling in her lap without touching one another. "And mine to Karth," is the polite reply to the Weyrleader's thanks. As S'lien is mentioned, the girl swallows sharply, but the actual words share cause her shoulders to soften and her spine to unstiffen just a little. "Thank you, sir. That is, indeed, welcome news."
J'cor inclines his head, not quite a nod but an acknowledgment of the welcome news. "Lexine is also well," he offers, folding his hands over his stomach this time, rather than his desk. Now that the information he promised her has been transferred, J'cor is silent for a moment before adding anything new. "Yevide has spoken to you, previously, of the chance of your acquiring a more permanent role in High Reaches." He raises his brows - confirmation seems required.
The Telgari's brows arch upwards, though the rest of her expression remains impassive. "It has been, shall we say, alluded to once or twice, sir." Her eyes have quit flitting and down. J'cor now holds Roa's rapt attention.
"We shall say," J'cor confirms drily, his brows sinking down to their regular positioning. "The Weyrwoman maintains a certain interest in the matter. Do you?" J'cor's usual, inconclusive pattering around the subject has been set aside for today. He watches Roa frankly, ready to take in every detail of her response.
The first detail J'cor might notice is the way the corner of Roa's lips tip upwards into a sort of shy ghost of a smile. She nods slowly, and at first it seems as though that is all there will be. But, the Weyrleader's frankness finally spurns a verbal response, which is a short and simple, "Yes, sir. I do."
J'cor probably sees that smile, but he gives no reaction to it: only a nod, confirming her verbal response. "With Diya gone, and Ulyath's clutch without a gold, the Reaches could use another queen." No mention is made of Sinopa, but perhaps she is referenced by the wry tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. He seems about to continue, but his mouth closes over the words as he considers Roa again. Finally, "Your thoughts?"
"Tialith is of age, now. Once Ulyath and her clutch are off the sands, I don't expect it will be much longer before she takes to the skies herself, sir. I..." Roa inhales deeply and exhales slowly, her fingers, denied the comfort of squeezing each other, pluck and the cloth on the chair seat. "If I may be frank, sir? I would like very much to serve the Reaches."
J'cor's little nod gives her the permission to be frank, and the words that follow turn that wry tug at his mouth into a more genuine smile. "I am pleased to hear it, Roa." Lest he be forgotten, there's a low rumbling noise from the small bronze who's been keeping silent, steady watch outside, but now wishes to make his agreement known. J'cor frowns a little at Karth's interruption, and continues, "I have brought the matter before S'lien. I hope to see it accomplished, though I warn you now that he does not seem eminently willing."
Roa turns her head to look over at the little bronze as he rumbles. "He has a passion for having the last word, doesn't he." She's almost musing to herself, or maybe to Tialith, rather than directly to the Weyrleader. But then she turns back, brows dipping down at this last news. "I...see sir. If you don't mind, did S'lien give a reason as to why not?"
J'cor smiles faintly at that self-aimed musing of Roa's, though he does not address it. Karth may have heard, for he gives a small, noisy rustle of his wings before he settles back to sentry duty. The Weyrleader never spares a glance his way. "He wishes to see what the Reaches would give, in exchange for a young gold's clutching potential."
"Oh," Roa murmurs. Her hands can't quite take it anymore and come together again, fingers twisting around one another. "That's...unusual, isn't it, sir?" She swallows and tips her head, shoulder squaring once more. "What will Reaches reply?"
"It is not the usual manner of doing things, no," J'cor concedes in a quiet murmur. Hr second question, however, garners less of a helpful response, as the Weyrleader gently shakes his head. "That remains to be seen." He clears his throat slightly, straightening in his chair while a thoughtful frown crosses his features. After a silence, a soft murmur: "Very well." Another small throat clearing and then, louder, "I am still deciding how I will address the request to S'lien. He is your Weyrleader," currently, "and it is your transfer; if you have words you would suggest, I would hear them."
The girl listens in silence, and at the soft 'very well' from J'cor, Roa's glaze flicks over to the sentinel bronze and then back to his rider. "I am afraid that I have ever been poor at understanding S'lien's motivations for anything. I'm of little use to him here, and he knows this. I don't understand why he's allowing me to stay, let alone why he's denied the request for a transfer. Especially with a Reaches gold now at Telgar." Her fingers tap lightly against the opposite hand's palm as she gets her turn to mull something over. Softly she adds, "Perhaps...I would suggest, sir, perhaps speaking with B'sano." Telgar's weyrleader, until S'lien's Castorlanth outflew his Meleoth.
J'cor's sentinel bronze, if he's been sharing any impressions of this meeting, gives no sign of it this time: absolutely motionless. J'cor himself is not much more active, simply nodding once. "It may be possible; I will consider it. You would suggest this because he has influence on S'lien, or because he would know more of S'lien's motives?"
Roa's answer is short and simple. "He understands S'lien better than I do. And he would be willing to help me." The whys, the story behind that, is left untouched.
J'cor's brows go up a fraction at that second, unexplained assertion, but he doesn't ask for the story behind it. While he considers, he directs his gaze - for the first time - at something other than Roa; namely, the wall to her left. "If it comes to that, I will seek out B'sano's reflections. I do not wish to be seen as ... going past S'lien." His eyebrows go up a fraction more as he picks the words, then drop back down. "However, should I be availed of no other options, I will keep your suggestion in mind, Roa. Thank you." It's the beginnings of a dismissal, not finalized in case she has anything else to add.
"I understand, sir. Of course." Roa looks down and away. Politics. Such a funny, little dance. "Thank you for letting me know what's been happening. I...well, if I think of anything," or learn of anything, "I will have Tialith notify Karth." Her chair is scooted back, and the Telgari begins to rise. "Congratulations on the clutch, by the by. Thirty is a fine number."
J'cor is not always in the habit of getting up to see off his guests, but in Roa's case he does at least rise to his feet as she does. "Thank you," he answers, both to the offer and the congratulations. Karth allows his immobile sentry duty to be interrupted briefly while he arches his neck and looks at Roa, huffing a breath of appreciation before he turns back around. J'cor smiles wryly. "Karth thanks you as well. Good evening, Roa."
"He must," Roa muses with a final look towards the bronze. "I doubt I would have been invited into the office tonight, unless I'd passed his muster first." Her head dips down into a courteous nod as she turns back to J'cor. "Good evening, Weyrleader." She turns and heads towards the door. And the guard. Joy.
Time: Late afternoon on Day 16, Month 4, Turn 2
Players: J'cor, Roa, Tialith, Karth
Scene: Roa gets debriefed.
Weyrleader's Weyr
Rank allows slightly more comfortable furnishings than can be found elsewhere in the Weyr. Done in warm tones, the walls have been white-washed and hung with sunny tapestries to match the shades of the area rugs and the bed coverings. Those rugs divide the room into sections. There is the seating area, suitable for conversation and informal meetings, with its couches and low central table. There is the working area, occupied by a desk and shelves for hidework. Last but not least, there is the living area where the Weyrleader sleeps and stores his clothing and riding gear.
The weyr has two exits. The first is a simple doorway that leads to the stairs and back down to the shared office. The second is a curtained archway that leads to the couch and ledge sized for a bronze dragon. The ledge is some distance above the bowl and accessible only from the air.
Karth sends out feelers to find the young Telgari gold, and send a wordless flicker of greeting when he does. The Weyrleader must speak with her, he explains politely, quite sure that Tialith will know what her he speaks of. If her current occupation can be set aside, he would see her in our weyr now.
The young Telgari queen's presence is a heavy weighted thing, currently evoking something akin to having one's blanket tucked tightly against one's limbs. Her response comes quickly and clear. I have informed her. I have just been oiled in spots. She will take the stairs.
Karth flickers his understanding - again wordless - and then pauses. Her guard should wait outside, he concludes, and then his presence withdraws.
Although J'cor's pipe is not in evidence today - perhaps tucked back in its little drawer - there is a reason why most people try not to smoke inside, and for that reason (and the fact that J'cor does anyway), the whole weyr now smells faintly like pipesmoke. J'cor smells like his usual self, although it's well hidden by the lingering smoke, and sits behind his desk with his hands folded on it. A small but comfortable sofa has been drawn up across from him.
Up the steps and through the door comes little Roa, pausing to murmur something to the much taller shadow that follows. The portal is shut behind her and the Telgari (and only the Telgari) turns around to move towards the Weyrleader's desk through the faint aroma of pipesmoke. She does not sit, but clasps her hands in front of her saying, "Tialith says you wished to see me, sir?" Knuckles are white.
J'cor gestures her to sit, however, unclasping his own hands to wave at the small selected sofa. "Indeed, Roa. My thanks to Tialith." As his surveying gaze takes in the whiteness of her knuckles, he adds a quick smile. "Forgive the unexpected summons. I have heard word from S'lien, and I require an opportunity to speak with you." He leans back in his chair, considering her. "He has not indicated that he wishes to withdraw you from the Caucus. I recall you were concerned."
Roa pulls out the chair and lowers herself into it, hands forcibly parting and resettling in her lap without touching one another. "And mine to Karth," is the polite reply to the Weyrleader's thanks. As S'lien is mentioned, the girl swallows sharply, but the actual words share cause her shoulders to soften and her spine to unstiffen just a little. "Thank you, sir. That is, indeed, welcome news."
J'cor inclines his head, not quite a nod but an acknowledgment of the welcome news. "Lexine is also well," he offers, folding his hands over his stomach this time, rather than his desk. Now that the information he promised her has been transferred, J'cor is silent for a moment before adding anything new. "Yevide has spoken to you, previously, of the chance of your acquiring a more permanent role in High Reaches." He raises his brows - confirmation seems required.
The Telgari's brows arch upwards, though the rest of her expression remains impassive. "It has been, shall we say, alluded to once or twice, sir." Her eyes have quit flitting and down. J'cor now holds Roa's rapt attention.
"We shall say," J'cor confirms drily, his brows sinking down to their regular positioning. "The Weyrwoman maintains a certain interest in the matter. Do you?" J'cor's usual, inconclusive pattering around the subject has been set aside for today. He watches Roa frankly, ready to take in every detail of her response.
The first detail J'cor might notice is the way the corner of Roa's lips tip upwards into a sort of shy ghost of a smile. She nods slowly, and at first it seems as though that is all there will be. But, the Weyrleader's frankness finally spurns a verbal response, which is a short and simple, "Yes, sir. I do."
J'cor probably sees that smile, but he gives no reaction to it: only a nod, confirming her verbal response. "With Diya gone, and Ulyath's clutch without a gold, the Reaches could use another queen." No mention is made of Sinopa, but perhaps she is referenced by the wry tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. He seems about to continue, but his mouth closes over the words as he considers Roa again. Finally, "Your thoughts?"
"Tialith is of age, now. Once Ulyath and her clutch are off the sands, I don't expect it will be much longer before she takes to the skies herself, sir. I..." Roa inhales deeply and exhales slowly, her fingers, denied the comfort of squeezing each other, pluck and the cloth on the chair seat. "If I may be frank, sir? I would like very much to serve the Reaches."
J'cor's little nod gives her the permission to be frank, and the words that follow turn that wry tug at his mouth into a more genuine smile. "I am pleased to hear it, Roa." Lest he be forgotten, there's a low rumbling noise from the small bronze who's been keeping silent, steady watch outside, but now wishes to make his agreement known. J'cor frowns a little at Karth's interruption, and continues, "I have brought the matter before S'lien. I hope to see it accomplished, though I warn you now that he does not seem eminently willing."
Roa turns her head to look over at the little bronze as he rumbles. "He has a passion for having the last word, doesn't he." She's almost musing to herself, or maybe to Tialith, rather than directly to the Weyrleader. But then she turns back, brows dipping down at this last news. "I...see sir. If you don't mind, did S'lien give a reason as to why not?"
J'cor smiles faintly at that self-aimed musing of Roa's, though he does not address it. Karth may have heard, for he gives a small, noisy rustle of his wings before he settles back to sentry duty. The Weyrleader never spares a glance his way. "He wishes to see what the Reaches would give, in exchange for a young gold's clutching potential."
"Oh," Roa murmurs. Her hands can't quite take it anymore and come together again, fingers twisting around one another. "That's...unusual, isn't it, sir?" She swallows and tips her head, shoulder squaring once more. "What will Reaches reply?"
"It is not the usual manner of doing things, no," J'cor concedes in a quiet murmur. Hr second question, however, garners less of a helpful response, as the Weyrleader gently shakes his head. "That remains to be seen." He clears his throat slightly, straightening in his chair while a thoughtful frown crosses his features. After a silence, a soft murmur: "Very well." Another small throat clearing and then, louder, "I am still deciding how I will address the request to S'lien. He is your Weyrleader," currently, "and it is your transfer; if you have words you would suggest, I would hear them."
The girl listens in silence, and at the soft 'very well' from J'cor, Roa's glaze flicks over to the sentinel bronze and then back to his rider. "I am afraid that I have ever been poor at understanding S'lien's motivations for anything. I'm of little use to him here, and he knows this. I don't understand why he's allowing me to stay, let alone why he's denied the request for a transfer. Especially with a Reaches gold now at Telgar." Her fingers tap lightly against the opposite hand's palm as she gets her turn to mull something over. Softly she adds, "Perhaps...I would suggest, sir, perhaps speaking with B'sano." Telgar's weyrleader, until S'lien's Castorlanth outflew his Meleoth.
J'cor's sentinel bronze, if he's been sharing any impressions of this meeting, gives no sign of it this time: absolutely motionless. J'cor himself is not much more active, simply nodding once. "It may be possible; I will consider it. You would suggest this because he has influence on S'lien, or because he would know more of S'lien's motives?"
Roa's answer is short and simple. "He understands S'lien better than I do. And he would be willing to help me." The whys, the story behind that, is left untouched.
J'cor's brows go up a fraction at that second, unexplained assertion, but he doesn't ask for the story behind it. While he considers, he directs his gaze - for the first time - at something other than Roa; namely, the wall to her left. "If it comes to that, I will seek out B'sano's reflections. I do not wish to be seen as ... going past S'lien." His eyebrows go up a fraction more as he picks the words, then drop back down. "However, should I be availed of no other options, I will keep your suggestion in mind, Roa. Thank you." It's the beginnings of a dismissal, not finalized in case she has anything else to add.
"I understand, sir. Of course." Roa looks down and away. Politics. Such a funny, little dance. "Thank you for letting me know what's been happening. I...well, if I think of anything," or learn of anything, "I will have Tialith notify Karth." Her chair is scooted back, and the Telgari begins to rise. "Congratulations on the clutch, by the by. Thirty is a fine number."
J'cor is not always in the habit of getting up to see off his guests, but in Roa's case he does at least rise to his feet as she does. "Thank you," he answers, both to the offer and the congratulations. Karth allows his immobile sentry duty to be interrupted briefly while he arches his neck and looks at Roa, huffing a breath of appreciation before he turns back around. J'cor smiles wryly. "Karth thanks you as well. Good evening, Roa."
"He must," Roa muses with a final look towards the bronze. "I doubt I would have been invited into the office tonight, unless I'd passed his muster first." Her head dips down into a courteous nod as she turns back to J'cor. "Good evening, Weyrleader." She turns and heads towards the door. And the guard. Joy.