Various Visits
Location: Weyrleader's Office
Time: Nighttime on Day 10, Month 8, Turn 2
Players: Roa and J'cor
Scene: Weyrleader and junior weyrwoman catch up.
Weyrleaders' Office
Much of the formal and informal business that concerns the weyrleaders is conducted here. As such, an effort has been made to keep this chamber comfortable out of respect for the long hours of work required to keep the Weyr running. The walls are bright with tapestries and the floors warm with thick rugs. A large sandtable holds pride of place in the center of the room, one half covered with a sheet of glass to serve as a writing surface. A second, smaller table holds whatever writing implements and record hides are needed by the staff. The chairs that ring this area are thickly cushioned but otherwise undecorated.
The stairs that led into the complex from the bowl continue up to the right, taking one into the Weyrleader's weyr. A large tunnel to the left curves down to the senior Weyrwoman's weyr, broken only by the smaller tunnel that leads to one of the junior's weyrs. The last tunnel, opposite the entrance, leads to the second junior's weyr.
It's well after dinner and tipping on over into bedtime, but some folks are still at work. And since Roa's room is not entirely her own anymore, she's carried her work down into the office and settled at the large sand table, stylus scribbling away on a hide pressed out before her. She frowns faintly, glancing over at some other hide once as she writes.
J'cor brings with him the loud sound of footsteps and the smell of a late dinner, tromping up the staircase from the bowl with a tray of food in hand. Coming across Roa once he opens the door at the top, the Weyrleader checks his step - he was headed, out of habit, straight for the sand table - and scrounges up a small smile of greeting for her while he remains in the doorway. "Good evening, weyrwoman."
Her head stays down, but her eyes lift. "Weyrleader," Roa greets quietly. She takes in the food and it rather makes sense that he'd expect a place to put it down. "There's enough room, if you'd like to sit as well, sir?"
J'cor's eyes scan slowly across the other chairs available in the room, though he's slow to actually nod and accept the offered place. "Thank you, I would. If it doesn't disturb your work." His eyebrows raise at this, implying a query that never reaches his voice. Nor does he exactly wait for an answer, for he moves towards the table - at the opposite end from Roa - and lowers his tray, not /quite/ claiming that end but certainly moving for it.
The weyrwoman's lips quirk upwards just a bit. "Sir, I've been doing homework in classrooms and sleeping in a barracks for over a turn now. I am in some very severe trouble if the presence of one other person is disruptive." Her pen is set aside and then she asks, "If I might, have you had an opportunity to speak with Aivey yet?"
J'cor's eyes do reflect a slow, dull gleam of amusement at her answer, and he promptly sets his tray down on the spot he was hovering over. At her question, he's about to turn, but he stops himself mid-twist to look at her, his gaze gone serious. "Indeed I have," he says, but he lingers only long enough to confirm that fact before he's off to fetch himself a chair. He drags it back with him across the room and elaborates as he sits down: "Your advice about her ... manner, was very much in line with what I found." Open wounds. If J'cor is bleeding from them, he masks it, reaching calmly for his silverware.
The weyrwoman gives a small nod. "I'm sorry to hear that," she murmurs. "She's rather good at finding them." -What- Aivey found isn't asked, however. "I've started meeting with her regularly. A rather...odd agreement we've made." The smile, tiny, is rueful.
J'cor has an odd-looking meal today. The components are completely normal - ham, peas, some kind of white sauce - but as they're speaking, he's mixing them together, cutting the ham into small bits and stirring them in. "The guards do keep me informed," he reminds her, but not with any note of reproach. "I trust to your discretion, weyrwoman; if you think these visits are wise, then continue them, though I would like to know what you've gleaned." His eyes flick up to meet hers briefly, eyebrows raised, but soon his attention yields back to the ham.
"I think they'll prove useful," she agrees quietly. "Though I don't think we'll be discussing the numerous crimes she's confessed to. Not directly. We're going to play games, I suspect. Or she will. Or try. We'll see." Roa inhales slowly through her nose and out her mouth. "I've asked that the guards remain outside during these visits. I believe I'm safe enough."
"They keep me informed of that as well," J'cor replies, one corner of his lip tugging wearily into a half-smile. The expression fades quickly, as he dismisses it for a light shrug. "I confess I'm less comfortable with that part of your arrangement. Witnesses are useful in ensuring that one party cannot make up a charge about the other's actions, and I do not want any accusations of ill treatment to lead to a mistrial. However unlikely it may seem." He slips his admixture of food onto his fork, only a little bit of the thick white sauce dripping free, and eats.
"I understand the concern, and if I feel that becomes a risk, then I'll have one come back in. But I think, overall, I will learn more if we're alone. And, there is Tialith. She can always be questioned to verify the truth of anything I offer." She glances down at her hide and then back up again. "I slightly different and topic. I also spoke with Weyrwoman Sinopa the other day."
J'cor is already midway to another bite, mouth opening to take it, but he pauses the fork and clamps his mouth shut for a second while he tracks after her new topic. Since she did it, his gaze also skips to the hide for a second, and returns with eyebrows faintly raised. "Ah," he muses, bringing the fork in again. "On what topic?" is added, before he resumes his meal.
"E'sere," the name is more sighed than spoken. "And the...complications that could arise should one of the queens rise between now and the conclusion of the trial." Roa tips her head to the side. "I'm going to go to Telgar and speak to S'lien. I suspect he might be willing to take him in. Tallara's Vianeth rose recently, so there's no threat."
J'cor still has a mouthful of dinner when she offers to go to Telgar, but he reaches out to grab his drink - a mere glass of milk - and wash it down so he can listen to her words somberly, and not be chewing while he does it. "Ah," gets repeated, as the glass comes slowly down to clink on the tray. "The Weyrwoman had mentioned that to me, but I confess I have not gotten past preliminary inquiries elsewhere." He does not say exactly where his efforts have been directed, though, merely turns the glass around in his grip as he watches the liquid inside. "Hmm. G'thon -" a small pause, a frown - "believes that S'lien harbors an ambition to lead High Reaches. Whether or not that's still true, I couldn't say, but," his eyes flick up to hers, "I would be careful, weyrwoman, of how you choose to address him."
"Does he? I...well. That's interesting." Roa's brows tip upwards. "Perhaps he'll be keen to do us this kind turn, then. Serve as a bit of a hero to the people here. I do not think even S'lien can be Weyrleader to two Weyrs at once. So until Castorlanth fails to catch...do you think there's genuine concern?"
J'cor, this time, does not pause in his chewing - he does not, in fact, even watch her directly, but rather lets his gaze wander to one of the tapestries on the wall. Yet his attention is quick to return when she's finished speaking. "I would not tempt him. Again, I do not say for certain that he wants the Reaches still. To say the least, it would be unwise if he did. But I would not have you go to him unarmed, should the topic arise." A small shrug turns him back to his dinner.
The pen is tucked away, the ink capped, and the hides gathered up. "Thank you for the warning, then. I'll be sure to keep it in mind when we speak." Hides are slowly rolled up. "Sir. Not just now...but...soon. We shall have to speak of Karth." It's the second time in as many meetings that this has been touched upon.
J'cor's expression draws thin, his lips pressing down for a moment till he can regain some of his composure. The wry, pressed feel to his expression, however, doesn't quite go away. "It is never quite now, is it?" he inquires quietly, his thinned lips turning up in an insincere smile. But, "Very well," he continues. "We shall speak of him soon." The emphasis that falls on the last word is slight; the dismissal implied by his absorbed hunch over his dinner platter is clear.
"Never quite," Roa concedes as she rises. "Next time, however, I'm afraid it will be. I'm sorry." Her head is tipped down into a small nod. "Good night, sir." She retreats up the stairs that lead to her weyr.
Time: Nighttime on Day 10, Month 8, Turn 2
Players: Roa and J'cor
Scene: Weyrleader and junior weyrwoman catch up.
Weyrleaders' Office
Much of the formal and informal business that concerns the weyrleaders is conducted here. As such, an effort has been made to keep this chamber comfortable out of respect for the long hours of work required to keep the Weyr running. The walls are bright with tapestries and the floors warm with thick rugs. A large sandtable holds pride of place in the center of the room, one half covered with a sheet of glass to serve as a writing surface. A second, smaller table holds whatever writing implements and record hides are needed by the staff. The chairs that ring this area are thickly cushioned but otherwise undecorated.
The stairs that led into the complex from the bowl continue up to the right, taking one into the Weyrleader's weyr. A large tunnel to the left curves down to the senior Weyrwoman's weyr, broken only by the smaller tunnel that leads to one of the junior's weyrs. The last tunnel, opposite the entrance, leads to the second junior's weyr.
It's well after dinner and tipping on over into bedtime, but some folks are still at work. And since Roa's room is not entirely her own anymore, she's carried her work down into the office and settled at the large sand table, stylus scribbling away on a hide pressed out before her. She frowns faintly, glancing over at some other hide once as she writes.
J'cor brings with him the loud sound of footsteps and the smell of a late dinner, tromping up the staircase from the bowl with a tray of food in hand. Coming across Roa once he opens the door at the top, the Weyrleader checks his step - he was headed, out of habit, straight for the sand table - and scrounges up a small smile of greeting for her while he remains in the doorway. "Good evening, weyrwoman."
Her head stays down, but her eyes lift. "Weyrleader," Roa greets quietly. She takes in the food and it rather makes sense that he'd expect a place to put it down. "There's enough room, if you'd like to sit as well, sir?"
J'cor's eyes scan slowly across the other chairs available in the room, though he's slow to actually nod and accept the offered place. "Thank you, I would. If it doesn't disturb your work." His eyebrows raise at this, implying a query that never reaches his voice. Nor does he exactly wait for an answer, for he moves towards the table - at the opposite end from Roa - and lowers his tray, not /quite/ claiming that end but certainly moving for it.
The weyrwoman's lips quirk upwards just a bit. "Sir, I've been doing homework in classrooms and sleeping in a barracks for over a turn now. I am in some very severe trouble if the presence of one other person is disruptive." Her pen is set aside and then she asks, "If I might, have you had an opportunity to speak with Aivey yet?"
J'cor's eyes do reflect a slow, dull gleam of amusement at her answer, and he promptly sets his tray down on the spot he was hovering over. At her question, he's about to turn, but he stops himself mid-twist to look at her, his gaze gone serious. "Indeed I have," he says, but he lingers only long enough to confirm that fact before he's off to fetch himself a chair. He drags it back with him across the room and elaborates as he sits down: "Your advice about her ... manner, was very much in line with what I found." Open wounds. If J'cor is bleeding from them, he masks it, reaching calmly for his silverware.
The weyrwoman gives a small nod. "I'm sorry to hear that," she murmurs. "She's rather good at finding them." -What- Aivey found isn't asked, however. "I've started meeting with her regularly. A rather...odd agreement we've made." The smile, tiny, is rueful.
J'cor has an odd-looking meal today. The components are completely normal - ham, peas, some kind of white sauce - but as they're speaking, he's mixing them together, cutting the ham into small bits and stirring them in. "The guards do keep me informed," he reminds her, but not with any note of reproach. "I trust to your discretion, weyrwoman; if you think these visits are wise, then continue them, though I would like to know what you've gleaned." His eyes flick up to meet hers briefly, eyebrows raised, but soon his attention yields back to the ham.
"I think they'll prove useful," she agrees quietly. "Though I don't think we'll be discussing the numerous crimes she's confessed to. Not directly. We're going to play games, I suspect. Or she will. Or try. We'll see." Roa inhales slowly through her nose and out her mouth. "I've asked that the guards remain outside during these visits. I believe I'm safe enough."
"They keep me informed of that as well," J'cor replies, one corner of his lip tugging wearily into a half-smile. The expression fades quickly, as he dismisses it for a light shrug. "I confess I'm less comfortable with that part of your arrangement. Witnesses are useful in ensuring that one party cannot make up a charge about the other's actions, and I do not want any accusations of ill treatment to lead to a mistrial. However unlikely it may seem." He slips his admixture of food onto his fork, only a little bit of the thick white sauce dripping free, and eats.
"I understand the concern, and if I feel that becomes a risk, then I'll have one come back in. But I think, overall, I will learn more if we're alone. And, there is Tialith. She can always be questioned to verify the truth of anything I offer." She glances down at her hide and then back up again. "I slightly different and topic. I also spoke with Weyrwoman Sinopa the other day."
J'cor is already midway to another bite, mouth opening to take it, but he pauses the fork and clamps his mouth shut for a second while he tracks after her new topic. Since she did it, his gaze also skips to the hide for a second, and returns with eyebrows faintly raised. "Ah," he muses, bringing the fork in again. "On what topic?" is added, before he resumes his meal.
"E'sere," the name is more sighed than spoken. "And the...complications that could arise should one of the queens rise between now and the conclusion of the trial." Roa tips her head to the side. "I'm going to go to Telgar and speak to S'lien. I suspect he might be willing to take him in. Tallara's Vianeth rose recently, so there's no threat."
J'cor still has a mouthful of dinner when she offers to go to Telgar, but he reaches out to grab his drink - a mere glass of milk - and wash it down so he can listen to her words somberly, and not be chewing while he does it. "Ah," gets repeated, as the glass comes slowly down to clink on the tray. "The Weyrwoman had mentioned that to me, but I confess I have not gotten past preliminary inquiries elsewhere." He does not say exactly where his efforts have been directed, though, merely turns the glass around in his grip as he watches the liquid inside. "Hmm. G'thon -" a small pause, a frown - "believes that S'lien harbors an ambition to lead High Reaches. Whether or not that's still true, I couldn't say, but," his eyes flick up to hers, "I would be careful, weyrwoman, of how you choose to address him."
"Does he? I...well. That's interesting." Roa's brows tip upwards. "Perhaps he'll be keen to do us this kind turn, then. Serve as a bit of a hero to the people here. I do not think even S'lien can be Weyrleader to two Weyrs at once. So until Castorlanth fails to catch...do you think there's genuine concern?"
J'cor, this time, does not pause in his chewing - he does not, in fact, even watch her directly, but rather lets his gaze wander to one of the tapestries on the wall. Yet his attention is quick to return when she's finished speaking. "I would not tempt him. Again, I do not say for certain that he wants the Reaches still. To say the least, it would be unwise if he did. But I would not have you go to him unarmed, should the topic arise." A small shrug turns him back to his dinner.
The pen is tucked away, the ink capped, and the hides gathered up. "Thank you for the warning, then. I'll be sure to keep it in mind when we speak." Hides are slowly rolled up. "Sir. Not just now...but...soon. We shall have to speak of Karth." It's the second time in as many meetings that this has been touched upon.
J'cor's expression draws thin, his lips pressing down for a moment till he can regain some of his composure. The wry, pressed feel to his expression, however, doesn't quite go away. "It is never quite now, is it?" he inquires quietly, his thinned lips turning up in an insincere smile. But, "Very well," he continues. "We shall speak of him soon." The emphasis that falls on the last word is slight; the dismissal implied by his absorbed hunch over his dinner platter is clear.
"Never quite," Roa concedes as she rises. "Next time, however, I'm afraid it will be. I'm sorry." Her head is tipped down into a small nod. "Good night, sir." She retreats up the stairs that lead to her weyr.