Not a food fight
It is a spring morning, 7:48 of day 21, month 5, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
The interior of the living cavern is luxurious, relatively speaking -- the walls are smoothed and there are wall sconces in addition to the myriad array of glow baskets and lamps used to keep the place well lit. It's a large space, suited to handle large numbers of people, with dozens of tables arranged strategically throughout; serving tables are also conveniently located at various intervals. Tapestries hang on the walls, many of them having been there for hundreds of turns and periodically taken down for cleaning and restoration.
Up a flight of stairs would be the kitchens, where much of the hustle and bustle can be heard, if not seen. Food is transported down via discretely located dumb waiters and dispersed by servers as necessary, but the aromas of food being prepared is as pervasive as the constant chatter of people as they drift through in search of food, drink, or company. Servers are generally available to assist and ensure that cups are filled and tables are cleaned regularly.
To the west is both the main entrance to the bowl and also the night hearth, which is kept stocked with fresh klah and pots of stew. Other hearths are scattered throughout, radiating heat and warmth as well as providing gathering spots for private discussions. To the east, a short flight of stairs leads down to the inner caverns, while a stout wooden door with a purple caduceus to the south leads to the infirmary.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Inner Caverns Kitchen
Breakfast is winding down any time now. The living cavern is slowly emptying as people get to their daily work, or play depending on the person, and the kitchen staff are starting to clear away some of the platters. It's not exactly the norm for W'ton to be lingering over breakfast. An early riser he's usually eaten before anyone else although he happily lingers to converse and socialize. Today however he lingers over a final bowl of porridge and his mug of klah while sitting with some other weyrlings. The current topic of conversation: dragons will be taking to the air any day now to try gliding around the bowl.
B'kaiv chews methodically through his meal, not participating in the livelier chatter. Finally though, he has only klah left, and plops his elbows on the table to better enjoy the last of it. "Think they're gonna hold the smaller ones back, like they did for huntin'?" The question brings up an immediate chorus of groans, and F'vel pushes back from the table under a mock-threat from Y'dros. "Don't blame me for Saulienth!" the brown not-quite-rider laughs, but once he's gone the question still lingers.
The question isn't immediately answered by W'ton, who does possess one of those darn bigger dragons. Instead he politely spoons porridge into his mouth before using the napkin in his lap to dab at his mouth. Then there's a sip of klah before he shakes his head. "If anything," he says glancing at B'kaiv with a friendly grin, "I'd imagine it'd be easier for them to be up first. Less weight on themselves to be carried. No reason to hold them back on solo flights. I hear the smaller ones generally take longer to get in the air with their rider, but by themselves? I don't see any reason to hold them back." He pauses for a moment and then chuckles. "Of course I've no idea what the weyrlingmaster thinks on it."
Kai grunts thoughtfully at W'ton's words, his eyes flicking out to where Chielyth, like many of the other babies, waits out in the bowl. "--Be nice," he finally allows. "'Course, she ain't eatin' as much as... some others." Not naming Dasarth by name, he still gives the bronze's lifemate a nod. "'Course then there's Phara all," he pitches his voice higher, girly, "Oh B'kaiv, /my/ dragon was hunting for himself when /he/ were that small!" only to immediately snort and take a slug of klah. "Were Jantha's decision, not mine. /Or/ hers."
Some of the other weyrlings hurry up and remove themselves from the conversation. Maybe it's the babies waiting for them or maybe it's the mention of Phara. No one wants to risk getting in trouble! Well, W'ton does not budge, but he does chuckle lowly and take another sip from his mug. "Phara," he tells Kai quietly with a grin, "Is a piece of work. Can I offer you some advice on that?" He's not Dasarth so he won't force his opinion on someone else, but he is always happy to /offer/ his opinion to anyone who wants to take it. While he waits he finishes off his porridge. Not an exciting breakfast, but he has a figure to maintain.
"Those are nice dresses she's wearing for you, Kai!" Y'dros teases, earning him a scowl from the other green weyrling. Kai plants his elbows more firmly around his empty plate and jerks his head at W'ton, growling, "Sure," though he doesn't look particularly confident that the advice will be helpful. "You know a way t' keep her offa me? An' everyone else?"
W'ton doesn't chuckle or even glance at the one who teases. He keeps a polite, even countenance the whole time because that's him, the understanding fellow and all. He does look at Y'dros before speaking, but it's just a flicker of glance and then he's back to focusing on Kai. "Well, Phara is a woman, you see. And I've lots of experience figuring out women." Yes, figuring them out is what he does. "Her problem is she thinks there's something wrong with herself. So she tries real hard to be liked by everyone. Men especially. She's got self-esteem problems likely come from a bad relationship when she was young. She just wants you to like her, man. So, fake it if you don't. Smile at her and say hello even if you'd rather keep walking." He pauses and leans back in his chair. "The more you scowl and push her away the more she'll come trying. Tell her she's got a pretty dress on one day. Shells, ask her to help you with something trivial. Once she doesn't see you as a challenge she'll find someone else to worry over."
Well, Kai doesn't immediately leap over the table to get to the other man, so that has to be marked in the plus column. "I /don't/ like her," he says instead, as though reiterating the blueness of the sky. "An' I don't want t' smile at her, or nothin'. Just want her t' sharding leave me alone." Still, he shoves back in his chair and studies W'ton with a considering glower. "So what if I tell her she got a nice dress an' then she's all over me even /more/?"
"Kai," W'ton says with a slow grin. "I don't think she wants to screw you. She just wants you to /like/ her. And she's worried about her job so she won't want to be acting like she wants to haul you down a corridor and climb on top of you." There's a chuckle following his words and he lifts his napkin from his lap to fold it neatly beside his plate. "Thing is she's not going to leave you be. She can't leave you be and you going on about wanting her to is only going to hurt /you/ and not /her/. You want to come across as someone who's not going to be a pain in the rear and who can get along with people you don't like. Shells, man, after you graduate you won't be having to deal with her. Suck it up and smile for now." He pauses to shake his head. "I'm not saying treat her like you're sweet on her. I'm just saying treat her like you don't want to punch her in the face, man."
B'kaiv starts, "She's a," but Y'dros shushes him hastily, looking around for eavesdroppers and giving a passing bluerider his best we're-not-saying-bad-things-about-our-teachers-honest grin. The older man hesitates but there aren't even any elbows on the table for him to call them on, and he moves off after another few seconds. "Anyway," Kai continues once the coast is clear, "I ain't gonna hit her, no road. 'Least we're finally gettin' t' somethin' I know about, 'stead of all this /readin'/."
Shoulders shrug as W'ton offers a grin and shake of his head to B'kaiv. "Hey, I'm just telling you how to get her off your back. My advice is free for the taking, but you don't have to. Had a problem with her myself, but once I realized she was /that/ kind of woman and treated her the right way she let up on me." Then, maybe just to annoy a bit because he can he says, "Reading and writing are important. If you'd give them the same attention you give all your other lessons you'd be done having to have extra visits with the harper. Hey." He stops as a sudden thought occurs to him. "They're not sending you to see Harper Gedina? You know, the one with the big..." He trails off and gestures at his chest with both hands while grinning. "Because there's a reason to take things slowly."
Kai continues to glower at W'ton, but after a few more seconds he finally grunts and leans back to the table (and there go those elbows on the table again). "Might try it," he allows, as though granting a favor. Someone's going to be getting something, anyway. "An' no," he adds with a headshake for Gedina. "Ain't her. S' uh... Majawin. Th' one I been workin' with all this time." Lucky, lucky Majawin. "An' I /been/ workin' on readin'. /And/ writin'. Maybe not every second I got, but it sure as shells feels like it."
"That's a pity," W'ton says with a sympathetic look. "Because I wouldn't mind getting to work one on one with Gedina for a few sevens." Man-talk. Despite the fact he can't do a thing like what he says and not just because of Dasarth. "You know, Kai," here he goes again imparting the wisdom he's blessed to have, "If you stopped seeing it as some hated chore it'd go a lot easier and you'd improve a lot faster. It's a fact if you hate something it takes twice as long to do. When I was learning ledgers it was the most boring thing in the world and my tutor was a dried up old man with no sense of humor. But once I found something I liked about it those lessons just flew by and I learned it triple fast."
B'kaiv snorts again, more amused this time, and tosses back the rest of his klah. "I got plenty other things t' think about. Don't need no more distractions from Gedina." His hands sketch out a decided hourglass. "--Thanks," he adds, as Y'dros collects his mug and makes an offer for W'ton's too. "Ledgers ain't borin', though," he protests, turning eagerly to this new topic. "They make sense. Everything adds up, top t' bottom, when you're done, an' if they don't, you done it wrong. Not like readin', where you got t' figure out what a word is by what everything around it means. If they can't say it plain, shouldn't be wrote down at all."
W'ton lets his mug be taken since he's done with it and he nods a thanks to Y'dros for the offer. "Ahh. This person distracting you wouldn't, perhaps, be knitting up a storm to distract herself from you would it?" A leap, sure, but the bronzerider isn't afraid of making such leaps and being wrong. Nothing wrong with getting it wrong every now and again. "Suppose so, but it's all so...dull. Add and add and subtract and see if your number is right. There's no mystery to it!" And words? Words make him smile and he leans forward with his elbows on the table to say, "Ahh, but words, B'kaiv. Words are such useful creatures. If you know the right words you can apologize to someone while still insulting them. You can woo a lady away from someone else or get her to do most anything. There's a beauty to getting the right combination of words together and seeing someone give you the desired reaction." Chuckling he says, "And if you find yourself speaking to Weyrwoman Cirse I'd not mention that word look up unless you want to have her quizzing you on them."
Y'dros adds quietly that he's heading out; Kai sends him off with a nod and a wave. And then there were two. "Knitting?" he repeats, turning back to W'ton in confusion. "Shells, I dunno. Maybe." Another glance toward the bowl and he digs the heel of one hand into his eye, face scrunching. A second later and he slouches back in his chair again, toying with the edge of his plate. "I don't want t' do none of that, though. Don't trust people who can't speak straight." Of course he glances quickly at the other weyrling, as if to assure them both that they know what he's talking about. Or who. "Numbers make sense. Words is just..." Scowling, he finally comes up with, "Trouble."
"Words are numbers in their own way," W'ton says with an earnest smile and a bob of his head. "They can only mean so many things and when you combine them they will mean one thing or the other. They're not so mysterious as you think." Y'dros heading out earns him a wave, but then he's too busy laughing at something said by Kai. "Shells, man, the best person to deal with is someone running smooth words at you because then you can be pretty sure he's running a game on you." Although he does add, "Me? It's just the way I talk. It's the way I was raised and I'm going to need my pretty words to handle Dasarth. Grumpy old fellow that he is." Leaning back in his chair he regards the other weyrling with a serious look. "Truth is there's no such thing as plain speaking, B'kaiv. I can use all the short words I want and still lie through my teeth and not be obvious about it. No one speaks straight all the time not if they want to earn a place for themselves. Words are tools to be used. You can punch someone harder with words than even you can with your fist. And it doesn't involve getting in trouble." Usually. But he doesn't add that word.
B'kaiv doesn't -say- he doesn't like them (again), but by now it ought to be pretty clear. "Someone come int' the waystation, their tongue all sweet, you can just -bet- we was keepin' a close eye on them. Tossed more'n one out on their ear, too." Again there's a flicker of a glance. "--What's up with him, any road?" he asks, turning to the question of the bronze and letting the other go fallow. "Chielyth don't like him all the time, an' she likes everybody. Says he's pushy."
"Shells, Kai, a man can be a scoundrel and not talk sweet. Just makes it easier to get what you want if you do." But W'ton's not trying to teach the greenrider to sweet talk so he doesn't push it. Instead there's Dasarth to talk about and it's not the first time he's been asked this question. "Ain- There isn't anything up with him," he begins without even a glance out towards the bowl where the bronze sits by himself observing the comings and goings of others. "He just is sure of himself and he was born to lead. He is a bronze after all. He expects to be listened to. Even though he's not grown up yet." Head tipping to one side there's a sudden bark of laughter from W'ton. "Shells, man! He's like you. All gruff of tone and demeanor with no use for sweet words. I don't imagine he'll ever be much liked by the others, but that's fine. I don't think he's out to make friends. That's what I do."
Again there's a snort, this one disbelieving, from the greenrider at the thought of there -not- being something up with the bronze. "Maybe he ought t' be listenin' t' you about sweet talkin', then, 'cause if he's getting /Chielyth's/ back up..." Still, Kai shrugs. "Me an' Chielyth, we ain't never gonna have t' worry about makin' Wingleader or nothin'. Wouldn't take it, even if it were offered, which it ain't gonna be."
"No, but you need to worry about being tapped into a wing. And about not being traded off to some other Weyr so you can be their problem," W'ton says in a sincere tone. He's just trying to be helpful and all. "Dasarth's way isn't my way. It's just the way it is. Like how you're not ever going to be sweet like Chielyth. How it is, man." Because if anyone else has a near polar opposite of them like Win it's Kai. "Maybe by the time I'm weyrleader he'll have learned to not be such a pain in the rear. At least by then I imagine I'll have learned how to be a buffer for his grumpy ways." Of course it's a given since they're both so awesome that someday that's the position he'll be in! How could they not? Being so awesome.
There is, perhaps, a cloud of uncertainty over Kai's face when W'ton mentions not getting tapped, but when trading comes up it's gone. "Ain't no one gonna be tradin' us," he scoffs, dropping a nod to a passing handyman. Refocusing on W'ton he adds, "You think you're gonna be Weyrleader? Better think about gettin' out of th' barracks first. You an' me, we ain't got no place t' be thinkin' about things five, ten turns down th' road. Got t' get past these shardin' /lessons/, first!"
Could that be, yes, it is, a certain trace of smugness to W'ton's posture and tone. "Nonsense. You need to have a plan. And my plan is to be weyrleader. Dasarth'll do it for me and when he does I'll be ready. Can't just think of today and get ahead, B'kaiv, you have to think of tomorrow and next turn and so on. /That's/ how you get somewhere. I'm sure as shells not going to spend the next turn only thinking of tomorrow's lessons. How we do today will reflect how we do tomorrow and it will all come into play when we're older and full riders. And, if I may say so, B'kaiv, I do not /think/ I will be weyrleader. I /know/ I will. Dasarth and me are going to be great."
To his credit, Kai waits until W'ton's done before he snorts, though his derision is writ clearly on his face. "Sure. An' Chielyth's gonna have a nice big clutch. --We should get goin'," he adds, with a look around the rapidly emptying room. "You want me t' take your dishes?"
"Just wait and see, Kai," W'ton says with an easy grin. The other weyrling's disbelief doesn't seem to bother him in the least. "I'll get it, but thanks. See you in class."
Another shrug from the green rider, and he shoves his plates half-heartedly at the other man. "Get mine, then? Ain't no point in both of us walkin' t' the same place."
"Happy to," W'ton says with a grin. He lingers a bit longer before he stands up and takes the plates to their bin. Then saunters on out to get to class where he arrives just moments before it begins.
Him, Weyrleader? -Would- see about transferring, then. Got to think about what he said about Phara, though. Ain't like she's going away. Just need to keep her... dunno. Arm's length, I guess. Maybe.
Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
The interior of the living cavern is luxurious, relatively speaking -- the walls are smoothed and there are wall sconces in addition to the myriad array of glow baskets and lamps used to keep the place well lit. It's a large space, suited to handle large numbers of people, with dozens of tables arranged strategically throughout; serving tables are also conveniently located at various intervals. Tapestries hang on the walls, many of them having been there for hundreds of turns and periodically taken down for cleaning and restoration.
Up a flight of stairs would be the kitchens, where much of the hustle and bustle can be heard, if not seen. Food is transported down via discretely located dumb waiters and dispersed by servers as necessary, but the aromas of food being prepared is as pervasive as the constant chatter of people as they drift through in search of food, drink, or company. Servers are generally available to assist and ensure that cups are filled and tables are cleaned regularly.
To the west is both the main entrance to the bowl and also the night hearth, which is kept stocked with fresh klah and pots of stew. Other hearths are scattered throughout, radiating heat and warmth as well as providing gathering spots for private discussions. To the east, a short flight of stairs leads down to the inner caverns, while a stout wooden door with a purple caduceus to the south leads to the infirmary.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Inner Caverns Kitchen
Breakfast is winding down any time now. The living cavern is slowly emptying as people get to their daily work, or play depending on the person, and the kitchen staff are starting to clear away some of the platters. It's not exactly the norm for W'ton to be lingering over breakfast. An early riser he's usually eaten before anyone else although he happily lingers to converse and socialize. Today however he lingers over a final bowl of porridge and his mug of klah while sitting with some other weyrlings. The current topic of conversation: dragons will be taking to the air any day now to try gliding around the bowl.
B'kaiv chews methodically through his meal, not participating in the livelier chatter. Finally though, he has only klah left, and plops his elbows on the table to better enjoy the last of it. "Think they're gonna hold the smaller ones back, like they did for huntin'?" The question brings up an immediate chorus of groans, and F'vel pushes back from the table under a mock-threat from Y'dros. "Don't blame me for Saulienth!" the brown not-quite-rider laughs, but once he's gone the question still lingers.
The question isn't immediately answered by W'ton, who does possess one of those darn bigger dragons. Instead he politely spoons porridge into his mouth before using the napkin in his lap to dab at his mouth. Then there's a sip of klah before he shakes his head. "If anything," he says glancing at B'kaiv with a friendly grin, "I'd imagine it'd be easier for them to be up first. Less weight on themselves to be carried. No reason to hold them back on solo flights. I hear the smaller ones generally take longer to get in the air with their rider, but by themselves? I don't see any reason to hold them back." He pauses for a moment and then chuckles. "Of course I've no idea what the weyrlingmaster thinks on it."
Kai grunts thoughtfully at W'ton's words, his eyes flicking out to where Chielyth, like many of the other babies, waits out in the bowl. "--Be nice," he finally allows. "'Course, she ain't eatin' as much as... some others." Not naming Dasarth by name, he still gives the bronze's lifemate a nod. "'Course then there's Phara all," he pitches his voice higher, girly, "Oh B'kaiv, /my/ dragon was hunting for himself when /he/ were that small!" only to immediately snort and take a slug of klah. "Were Jantha's decision, not mine. /Or/ hers."
Some of the other weyrlings hurry up and remove themselves from the conversation. Maybe it's the babies waiting for them or maybe it's the mention of Phara. No one wants to risk getting in trouble! Well, W'ton does not budge, but he does chuckle lowly and take another sip from his mug. "Phara," he tells Kai quietly with a grin, "Is a piece of work. Can I offer you some advice on that?" He's not Dasarth so he won't force his opinion on someone else, but he is always happy to /offer/ his opinion to anyone who wants to take it. While he waits he finishes off his porridge. Not an exciting breakfast, but he has a figure to maintain.
"Those are nice dresses she's wearing for you, Kai!" Y'dros teases, earning him a scowl from the other green weyrling. Kai plants his elbows more firmly around his empty plate and jerks his head at W'ton, growling, "Sure," though he doesn't look particularly confident that the advice will be helpful. "You know a way t' keep her offa me? An' everyone else?"
W'ton doesn't chuckle or even glance at the one who teases. He keeps a polite, even countenance the whole time because that's him, the understanding fellow and all. He does look at Y'dros before speaking, but it's just a flicker of glance and then he's back to focusing on Kai. "Well, Phara is a woman, you see. And I've lots of experience figuring out women." Yes, figuring them out is what he does. "Her problem is she thinks there's something wrong with herself. So she tries real hard to be liked by everyone. Men especially. She's got self-esteem problems likely come from a bad relationship when she was young. She just wants you to like her, man. So, fake it if you don't. Smile at her and say hello even if you'd rather keep walking." He pauses and leans back in his chair. "The more you scowl and push her away the more she'll come trying. Tell her she's got a pretty dress on one day. Shells, ask her to help you with something trivial. Once she doesn't see you as a challenge she'll find someone else to worry over."
Well, Kai doesn't immediately leap over the table to get to the other man, so that has to be marked in the plus column. "I /don't/ like her," he says instead, as though reiterating the blueness of the sky. "An' I don't want t' smile at her, or nothin'. Just want her t' sharding leave me alone." Still, he shoves back in his chair and studies W'ton with a considering glower. "So what if I tell her she got a nice dress an' then she's all over me even /more/?"
"Kai," W'ton says with a slow grin. "I don't think she wants to screw you. She just wants you to /like/ her. And she's worried about her job so she won't want to be acting like she wants to haul you down a corridor and climb on top of you." There's a chuckle following his words and he lifts his napkin from his lap to fold it neatly beside his plate. "Thing is she's not going to leave you be. She can't leave you be and you going on about wanting her to is only going to hurt /you/ and not /her/. You want to come across as someone who's not going to be a pain in the rear and who can get along with people you don't like. Shells, man, after you graduate you won't be having to deal with her. Suck it up and smile for now." He pauses to shake his head. "I'm not saying treat her like you're sweet on her. I'm just saying treat her like you don't want to punch her in the face, man."
B'kaiv starts, "She's a," but Y'dros shushes him hastily, looking around for eavesdroppers and giving a passing bluerider his best we're-not-saying-bad-things-about-our-teachers-honest grin. The older man hesitates but there aren't even any elbows on the table for him to call them on, and he moves off after another few seconds. "Anyway," Kai continues once the coast is clear, "I ain't gonna hit her, no road. 'Least we're finally gettin' t' somethin' I know about, 'stead of all this /readin'/."
Shoulders shrug as W'ton offers a grin and shake of his head to B'kaiv. "Hey, I'm just telling you how to get her off your back. My advice is free for the taking, but you don't have to. Had a problem with her myself, but once I realized she was /that/ kind of woman and treated her the right way she let up on me." Then, maybe just to annoy a bit because he can he says, "Reading and writing are important. If you'd give them the same attention you give all your other lessons you'd be done having to have extra visits with the harper. Hey." He stops as a sudden thought occurs to him. "They're not sending you to see Harper Gedina? You know, the one with the big..." He trails off and gestures at his chest with both hands while grinning. "Because there's a reason to take things slowly."
Kai continues to glower at W'ton, but after a few more seconds he finally grunts and leans back to the table (and there go those elbows on the table again). "Might try it," he allows, as though granting a favor. Someone's going to be getting something, anyway. "An' no," he adds with a headshake for Gedina. "Ain't her. S' uh... Majawin. Th' one I been workin' with all this time." Lucky, lucky Majawin. "An' I /been/ workin' on readin'. /And/ writin'. Maybe not every second I got, but it sure as shells feels like it."
"That's a pity," W'ton says with a sympathetic look. "Because I wouldn't mind getting to work one on one with Gedina for a few sevens." Man-talk. Despite the fact he can't do a thing like what he says and not just because of Dasarth. "You know, Kai," here he goes again imparting the wisdom he's blessed to have, "If you stopped seeing it as some hated chore it'd go a lot easier and you'd improve a lot faster. It's a fact if you hate something it takes twice as long to do. When I was learning ledgers it was the most boring thing in the world and my tutor was a dried up old man with no sense of humor. But once I found something I liked about it those lessons just flew by and I learned it triple fast."
B'kaiv snorts again, more amused this time, and tosses back the rest of his klah. "I got plenty other things t' think about. Don't need no more distractions from Gedina." His hands sketch out a decided hourglass. "--Thanks," he adds, as Y'dros collects his mug and makes an offer for W'ton's too. "Ledgers ain't borin', though," he protests, turning eagerly to this new topic. "They make sense. Everything adds up, top t' bottom, when you're done, an' if they don't, you done it wrong. Not like readin', where you got t' figure out what a word is by what everything around it means. If they can't say it plain, shouldn't be wrote down at all."
W'ton lets his mug be taken since he's done with it and he nods a thanks to Y'dros for the offer. "Ahh. This person distracting you wouldn't, perhaps, be knitting up a storm to distract herself from you would it?" A leap, sure, but the bronzerider isn't afraid of making such leaps and being wrong. Nothing wrong with getting it wrong every now and again. "Suppose so, but it's all so...dull. Add and add and subtract and see if your number is right. There's no mystery to it!" And words? Words make him smile and he leans forward with his elbows on the table to say, "Ahh, but words, B'kaiv. Words are such useful creatures. If you know the right words you can apologize to someone while still insulting them. You can woo a lady away from someone else or get her to do most anything. There's a beauty to getting the right combination of words together and seeing someone give you the desired reaction." Chuckling he says, "And if you find yourself speaking to Weyrwoman Cirse I'd not mention that word look up unless you want to have her quizzing you on them."
Y'dros adds quietly that he's heading out; Kai sends him off with a nod and a wave. And then there were two. "Knitting?" he repeats, turning back to W'ton in confusion. "Shells, I dunno. Maybe." Another glance toward the bowl and he digs the heel of one hand into his eye, face scrunching. A second later and he slouches back in his chair again, toying with the edge of his plate. "I don't want t' do none of that, though. Don't trust people who can't speak straight." Of course he glances quickly at the other weyrling, as if to assure them both that they know what he's talking about. Or who. "Numbers make sense. Words is just..." Scowling, he finally comes up with, "Trouble."
"Words are numbers in their own way," W'ton says with an earnest smile and a bob of his head. "They can only mean so many things and when you combine them they will mean one thing or the other. They're not so mysterious as you think." Y'dros heading out earns him a wave, but then he's too busy laughing at something said by Kai. "Shells, man, the best person to deal with is someone running smooth words at you because then you can be pretty sure he's running a game on you." Although he does add, "Me? It's just the way I talk. It's the way I was raised and I'm going to need my pretty words to handle Dasarth. Grumpy old fellow that he is." Leaning back in his chair he regards the other weyrling with a serious look. "Truth is there's no such thing as plain speaking, B'kaiv. I can use all the short words I want and still lie through my teeth and not be obvious about it. No one speaks straight all the time not if they want to earn a place for themselves. Words are tools to be used. You can punch someone harder with words than even you can with your fist. And it doesn't involve getting in trouble." Usually. But he doesn't add that word.
B'kaiv doesn't -say- he doesn't like them (again), but by now it ought to be pretty clear. "Someone come int' the waystation, their tongue all sweet, you can just -bet- we was keepin' a close eye on them. Tossed more'n one out on their ear, too." Again there's a flicker of a glance. "--What's up with him, any road?" he asks, turning to the question of the bronze and letting the other go fallow. "Chielyth don't like him all the time, an' she likes everybody. Says he's pushy."
"Shells, Kai, a man can be a scoundrel and not talk sweet. Just makes it easier to get what you want if you do." But W'ton's not trying to teach the greenrider to sweet talk so he doesn't push it. Instead there's Dasarth to talk about and it's not the first time he's been asked this question. "Ain- There isn't anything up with him," he begins without even a glance out towards the bowl where the bronze sits by himself observing the comings and goings of others. "He just is sure of himself and he was born to lead. He is a bronze after all. He expects to be listened to. Even though he's not grown up yet." Head tipping to one side there's a sudden bark of laughter from W'ton. "Shells, man! He's like you. All gruff of tone and demeanor with no use for sweet words. I don't imagine he'll ever be much liked by the others, but that's fine. I don't think he's out to make friends. That's what I do."
Again there's a snort, this one disbelieving, from the greenrider at the thought of there -not- being something up with the bronze. "Maybe he ought t' be listenin' t' you about sweet talkin', then, 'cause if he's getting /Chielyth's/ back up..." Still, Kai shrugs. "Me an' Chielyth, we ain't never gonna have t' worry about makin' Wingleader or nothin'. Wouldn't take it, even if it were offered, which it ain't gonna be."
"No, but you need to worry about being tapped into a wing. And about not being traded off to some other Weyr so you can be their problem," W'ton says in a sincere tone. He's just trying to be helpful and all. "Dasarth's way isn't my way. It's just the way it is. Like how you're not ever going to be sweet like Chielyth. How it is, man." Because if anyone else has a near polar opposite of them like Win it's Kai. "Maybe by the time I'm weyrleader he'll have learned to not be such a pain in the rear. At least by then I imagine I'll have learned how to be a buffer for his grumpy ways." Of course it's a given since they're both so awesome that someday that's the position he'll be in! How could they not? Being so awesome.
There is, perhaps, a cloud of uncertainty over Kai's face when W'ton mentions not getting tapped, but when trading comes up it's gone. "Ain't no one gonna be tradin' us," he scoffs, dropping a nod to a passing handyman. Refocusing on W'ton he adds, "You think you're gonna be Weyrleader? Better think about gettin' out of th' barracks first. You an' me, we ain't got no place t' be thinkin' about things five, ten turns down th' road. Got t' get past these shardin' /lessons/, first!"
Could that be, yes, it is, a certain trace of smugness to W'ton's posture and tone. "Nonsense. You need to have a plan. And my plan is to be weyrleader. Dasarth'll do it for me and when he does I'll be ready. Can't just think of today and get ahead, B'kaiv, you have to think of tomorrow and next turn and so on. /That's/ how you get somewhere. I'm sure as shells not going to spend the next turn only thinking of tomorrow's lessons. How we do today will reflect how we do tomorrow and it will all come into play when we're older and full riders. And, if I may say so, B'kaiv, I do not /think/ I will be weyrleader. I /know/ I will. Dasarth and me are going to be great."
To his credit, Kai waits until W'ton's done before he snorts, though his derision is writ clearly on his face. "Sure. An' Chielyth's gonna have a nice big clutch. --We should get goin'," he adds, with a look around the rapidly emptying room. "You want me t' take your dishes?"
"Just wait and see, Kai," W'ton says with an easy grin. The other weyrling's disbelief doesn't seem to bother him in the least. "I'll get it, but thanks. See you in class."
Another shrug from the green rider, and he shoves his plates half-heartedly at the other man. "Get mine, then? Ain't no point in both of us walkin' t' the same place."
"Happy to," W'ton says with a grin. He lingers a bit longer before he stands up and takes the plates to their bin. Then saunters on out to get to class where he arrives just moments before it begins.
Him, Weyrleader? -Would- see about transferring, then. Got to think about what he said about Phara, though. Ain't like she's going away. Just need to keep her... dunno. Arm's length, I guess. Maybe.