Circumstances
7-31-2006 (J'cor, Roa, Rysia, Issa, Tavaly, Essdara):
Living Cavern
Large enough to hold the majority of the Weyr's human population, this cavern can become loud enough to deafen thanks to the acoustics caused by its size. The ceiling is so far overhead that it's cast into shadow, a darkness that is broken only by the spark and glitter of a lucky beam of light striking the minerals found in the rock walls. Below, most of the floor is covered with an assortment of long tables and benches. There are some smaller tables, surrounded by chairs, but privacy appears to be a rare thing in this bustling cavern. Large hearths line the west wall, with fires burning day and night to warm the food and drink that keep the Weyr's inhabitants fueled. The serving tables are near the hearth, opposite the dais that holds the single table reserved for the Weyr leadership and honored guests.
This room may be +watched (+help watch).
Contents:
Reyce
Obvious Exits:
Upper Caverns (UC) Lower Caverns (LC) Kitchen (K)
Infirmary (INF) Bowl (B)
Reyce goes home.
Reyce has left.
Rysia has arrived.
Issa has arrived.
It's a late hour for dinner, but there are a few hungry loners and even a pair of large groups, leftovers from the 'real' dinnertime. J'cor sits with one of those groups, which is just beginning to dissolve after a long discussion of wing-training and Thread tactics - notably, not a word about Igen vs. High Reaches politics. While his tablemates excuse themselves and head home, the weyrleader remains in his seat, giving each departure a gracious nod although it seems his attention has wandered into his own thoughts.
From the direction of the bowl comes the little Telgari weyrwoman, and though she wears a coat, it is open and her face, while flushed, is not quite so red as one might expect from someone who has spent the last good while outside. More likely that she came from some other indoor area in a quick jaunt across the bowl. There are dark circles under the girl's eyes and her expression is one set and determined as she makes a b-line for the serving area or, more specifically, the klah.
Rysia slips in, glancing over her shoulder with much the manner of one checking to make sure she is not followed. Of course, any sneakiness by doing so is rather ruined when her hip catches the corner of the serving table with all the empty plates. There is no breakage, but a definate wobble or three, before everything is settled. Once that is done, plates and food are bypassed, and the young woman heads straight for the klah pitchers, filling a mug up with the hot beverage.
Lingering over a small, disfigured pile of mashed tubers long-grown cold, is Issa. She sits alone at the table next to the new Weyrleader, inconspicuously within earshot and sipping idly at a glass of wine. Her own group has left long before the break of the tacticians the next table over. But she stays, still prodding her potatoes with a lazy fork, still making the pretense that she's going to eat them sooner or later.
J'cor's seat is close enough to the serving table that the sound of wobbling dinnerware startles him out of his thoughts, and he shoots Rysia a quick look of concern. "Are you all right, miss?" he calls as she passes, his eyes following her on her path to the klah. Seeing Roa there as well, he offers her a nod and a short smile. Like Issa, he's got a tray in front of him, some of his food still uneaten; unlike her, he seems to have given up on the pretense. It's far too cold to be edible.
Roa looks over as the table wobbles and offers Rysia first a wordless nod in greeting and then, after pouring her own mug, the pitcher of klah. "Hi," she murmurs a bit flatly. "How are you?" Lifting the mug and cradling it in her hands, she turns a bit to lean with her back against the serving table and so notes the Weyrleader and then Issa at adjoining tables. For his nod, J'cor is given an, "'Evening, sir."
Rysia tilts her head at Roa for a moment, then turns as well, "Well'nough, sir." A pause, then she adds, "'lo, Issa." A longer pause, "Roa." Pleasentries done, she then turns back towards pouring sweetner into the drink.
It's less the sudden clatter and more the Weyleader's question that draws Issa's attention to the woman that caused the clanking of dishes. Recognition sparks in her eyes, along with a genuine cheer that's been absent all too often recently. "Rysia," Issa greets, the same sentiment reflected in the subtle tones of her voice. But she waits for the woman to come closer to say anything more. As the others recognize Roa, she also does, but with nothing more than a glance and a smile. She turns on her bench, favoring J'cor with her profile rather than the back of her head, should he look.
"Good evening, miss," J'cor answers Roa, accepting Rysia's answer with a mute nod. He does indeed catch a glimpse of greenrider-in-profile when Rysia's greeting shifts his attention that way, but if he notices Issa's auspicious placement, he doesn't linger on it. Looking back at the two with their drinks, his smile turns helpless as he asks, "I don't suppose one of you would kindly favor me with a mug?" He raises two fingers towards the klah pot.
Roa sets her own mug down and has a moment of silence, eyes flicking back and forth between Issa and J'cor. Lips purse very slightly. Then she turns again, back to the others, to set her mug down and take up an empty one, carefully pouring a second mug. Rather than asking what J'cor takes, however, she only steps foward, her own cup left behind for the moment, to carefully set the dark and bitter brew in the middle of his table. It's only then that she queries, "Did you want sweetener or anything?"
Tavaly enters from the bowl outside.
Tavaly has arrived.
Rysia watches Roa and J'cor for a long moment, then blinks at Issa, "Ah.. hello. Or did I already be sayin' that?" she asks, before making an effort of sorts, and crossing over to the occupied table. About to sit down, she looks towards the Weyrleader, and asks, "Mind more folk?"
It's only when J'cor's attention is on the klah that Issa risks a glance, one of only few that have been chanced that night. It's entirely blank, betraying nothing of her inclinations, personal or political. Rysia elicits a smile from the greenrider, however. "You did, but greetings from childhood friends are welcome, no matter what the quantity." Her eyes follow the girl through her inquiry to the Weyrleader once again, and she slips into the opportunity gracefully. Her hand drifts to her wine glass, sweeping it from the tabletop as she stands fluidly, leaving behind the food she studied for so long. "Can I join you?" she asks of Rysia only, her smile deepening, though, as her gaze includes J'cor and the nearby Roa.
J'cor pulls the cup of klah towards him, peering curiously into his its dark, unsweetened depths. "I'm afraid I was hoping for some, yes. But please, sit - all of you." And his smile branches out to the other two, including them in the invitation. "I should be glad to have your company, and I'll rejoin you in a bit. Laziness," he adds as he stands up and grabs the offered klah mug, "has never benefitted anyone." He allows them some time to settle in his absence as he leaves from the table, going to sweeten his own drink and (while he's at it) to pick up Roa's for her.
Rysia's chuckle is rather, well, lacking, but the attempt is made, before she blinks, and hms. "I'll need to be tryin' ta sleep tonight. Coulda sworn...." she trails off, then shakes her head, and take a deep swallow of that stuff known to keep folks up all night. "How be ye?" she inquires of Issa, as she takes a seat.
Roa finds herself, well, invited to sit. Probably. At any rate, the Telgari sinks down into a seat and leans back against it as J'cor rises. She doesn't show much interest in scrambling up after her mug and leaves J'cor to retrieve it, if he will. She doesn't respond to Issa's query though she does return the broader smile with one of her own, right hand lifting in a vague little wave.
Meanwhile, teeth chattering, the local psychopath has bee-lined for the klah table and nearly runs smack into J'cor as he goes about sweetening his drink. Pale eyes widen and skirt up to the man's face, horrified. "Sorry 'bout that.. uh.. Sir." Bah. Formalities suck. She rifles around for an unused mug and finds the steaming liquid a place in its emptiness. Shoving her nose in it, she breathes deep a moment. Aaah. An eye to the open space in the cavern is set upon.. Oh, hey! A bright smile below a red, chilled nose is thrown to the other women. "Evening!" She says brightly, glancing from Roa, to Issa, to.. Her smile falters a little as she spots Rysia, and it turns a little apologetic.
Issa slides into her own seat with a carefully calculated motion, setting down her glass, throwing a returning wave to Roa and sinking down, each carried out in a single fluid sequence. "I've been... well," she offers, a split second decision lying in that briefest of pauses. "I that things are going well for you two?" Her smiling gaze sweeps to include Roa.
J'cor reflexively straightens his arm when Tavaly bumps into him - if that klah's going to spill, he doesn't want it spilling on /him/. Fortunately, it only slops a little onto his fingers, and though it's hot enough to draw a brief grimace from him, he converts the expression into a forgiving smile for Tavaly's sake. "No harm done, miss." This as he picks up a nearby cloth and wipes the klah off his fingers, then adds the sweetener. Realizing, from a glance over his shoulder, that she knows his little group of tablemates, he extends the invitation to her as well: "Will you join us?" Picking up his own and Roa's mugs, he turns back towards the table.
Decisions, decisions. To deal with rumours, and the ever-psychotic Tavaly, or to deal with Issa's cheerful curiousity. "Still alive," she allows, before nodding slightly to Tava, "Evenin'." (Rysia)
"I'm all right, thank you Issa," Roa replies and then tooks over as yet more table jostling occurins. "Evening, Tavaly," she calls with another small wave. A glance towards the approaching J'cor, and then another one for Rysia. And then her gaze just sort of slides down to the table and settles there.
Huhwha? In her brief awkwardness, the greenling reacts to J'cors extended offer veeeery slowly. She turns to look at the man with curiosity. "Who, me?" She pauses. "I.. sure!" Duh. She sort of.. auto pilots behind the man and tries not to really look at anyone. Especially Rysia. Mm, klah sure is pretty and distracting! Mm, boy! She finds an empty seat as far away from the woman as possible, plunking down in it and concentrating long and hard on the mug in her hands.
But Issa won't let Tavaly sink into obscurity there, studying her klah. "I'm glad," she notes to Roa or Rysia, she doesn't specify, then turning to the other greenrider with, "Tavaly," spoken in a light cheerful voice, just one more of many greetings in such a short span of time. Eyes flicker briefly to that Weyrleader in whose wake Tavaly follows, but soon return to their target. "How is T'zen?"
J'cor nods solemnly in answer to Tavaly, seemingly oblivious to her hesitation. As he returns Roa's klah mug to her, Issa's question gains a moment of his attention and he pauses to consider the greenrider for just a moment, his blank expression betraying none of his reflections. Taking a sip of klah to cover his pause, he moves smoothly to resume his own seat. He offers his tablemates a smile as he reseats himself, but lets them continue to exchange greetings without his interference.
"Thank you," Roa slides her mug of klah closer and blows on it quietly. At Issa's question, the goldrider glances upwards but seems content, just now, to keep quiet.
Rysia stares at her mug of klah for a moment, then shakes her head, "Sorry. Gotta go." Issa gets a half-attempted smile, before she's removing herself from the table in the usual way, by half falling over it, then heading towards the bowl, klah mug in hand, and bruise-marks forming from encounters with the edges of tables and benches.
"Crazy." Tav responds easily, a grateful, lopsided smile touching her lips as her gaze raises to meet Issa's. "And all the better for it. Took a trip around the bowl for morning sweeps today. Good exercise. Uneth and Immath needed it, definitely." Tav rattles off, side-glancing the others, especially the foreign man. Her eyes snap, however, to the retreating Rysia and her eyes close, then. She says nothing. Really, what is there to say?
"Ah... good seeing you again," Issa offers in helpless resignation at Rysia's departure, a gentle smile following her as she leaves, though it's tempered with a small crease of confusion as well. "Of course," she then remarks to Tavaly, her fingertips twisting the stem of her glass so that the wine within shivers with the movement. "It's good to hear. I haven't seen him since... oh, well, in a while." A smoothing of what could have been said instead, perhaps, but the hesitation is minimal. Then quickly her glance changes to J'cor, his new title requiring at least a small effort at polite formality at least. "Sir, I don't believe I've introduced myself. Excuse me, I know these two well enough that it escaped me. Issa, rider of Oshisyth."
J'cor watches Rysia's stumbling with a small frown, but he allows her to retreat in silence. Issa's introduction pulls a thin smile onto his face. "Issa," he repeats, with the air of one committing a name to memory. "A pleasure to meet you. And Immath - so you're Tavaly, correct? I believe I've encountered you before, with the weyrwoman here." A nod to Roa, and now everyone's included in his response. J'cor rewards himself for a job well done by taking a sip of his klah, though his eyes continue to watch the others' reactions even as he drinks.
Roa watches Rysia go, but her opinion seems to be similar to Tavaly's. Not much can or ought to be done about that sudden departure. "You have? With me?" A slow blink at the Weyrleader's comment and then, "Oh! Yes. Out in the snow. Tavaly, I'm glad to hear T'zen is well." Oh the inanity.
Nodding her head, Tav turns from her klah and back to Issa. "Yea he's.. been real busy. Lately." Tav admits with a scrunching of her nose. J'cor steals her attention for a moment, and she nods. "Good job. I'd give you a cookie, but I'm fresh out. And yea. We met before while Tialith was turning her frosty clutch over." Roa's comments get a rather.. skewed look. As though Tav were questioning Roa's sanity over the top of her mug.
Issa takes note of the circular inclusion that J'cor manages, don't let that nonchalant glance and idle sip fool you. The wine glass remains cradled, the curve of the glass nestled against her palm as her hand stalls mid-motion between her mouth and the table. "You're finding your way around High Reaches already, I see," she comments, an arid dryness in her voice, though with it she offers a steady smile. She lets her gaze drift from Tavaly to Roa easily then, catching the younger greenrider's look.
J'cor glances at Roa, but doesn't allow his gaze to linger, simply offering her a nod of confirmation and then allowing her the privacy to regroup as he turns back to Tavaly. He chuckles at the offered cookie. "I am a fair student," he replies mildly, an answer which includes Issa's dry comment. "Learning these things is my job, is it not?" The question prompts a quick smile and a hand turned over in helpless acceptance of his name-learning responsibilities.
A quick sigh and a glance at the tabletop. "Aye, I suppose it is, sir." A glance between all present. Eek. "Well, as delightfully awkward as this has been, I've got business that needs seeing to. Good evening. Is, Roa.. Weyrleader." The final word is spoken hesitantly, and a little uncertain. She rises, and skitters towards the lower caverns.
Tavaly ventures down the long tunnel that leads to the lower caverns.
Tavaly has left.
Issa gives a short nod, pulling her glass back again to her lips before she answers. Pale eyes contemplate the Weyrleader over the rim, then are drawn to Tavaly's sudden departure, the second of the night. The glass drops and this time makes it all the way to the table. "Night, Tavaly," she sends after the greenrider. "I suppose we all do what we must," Issa adds to the conversation, a twist of some darker amusement lying there beneath her words, her eyes dropping to study the grain of the table being magnified at the foot of her glass. "I admit that I haven't had much time between falls to learn much more of you and our Weyrwoman other than your origins."
J'cor, as with so many things, does not seem to notice the uncertainty with which the weyrling speaks his title, offering her a parting nod and a pleasant "Good evening." Raising the klah mug to his lips, he steals a glance at Roa before his eyes return to Issa. His voice echoes into the mug when he says, "Well, I am currently at your disposal, Issa. Whatever you would like to learn more about, please do not hesitate to ask." He takes his drink.
The fact that Issa has been waiting for such an opportunity is absent from all save the quick tap of her fingers against the stem of the glass they hover about. Lips frozen into a contemplative smirk, she allows her eyes to rest on the Weyrleader's face for a moment before answering. Sparing a look to Roa with a faint surge in the intensity of her grin, she asks, "Well, how do you find our Weyr as it stood, then, Weyrleader? Before your surely capable leadership took effect?"
J'cor considers her question quietly, the klah held in his mouth until it sours and he has to swallow it down. "Before that," he concedes softly, setting down his mug. Both hands go to the table as he looks at Issa, answering her grin with a calm smile of his own. Conversationally: "Well, Issa, I admit I found it troubling. The grounding of a wing, for example; the clear overworking of other wings, to compensate. It is no quick task to remedy and yet it must be remedied quickly. Other situations abound, but you hardly need me to enumerate the difficulties which now face our weyr." He echoes her phrase - 'our weyr' - so very coolly, adding himself into the picture. "So to summarize once more: troubling. But -" his hand goes up, the edges of his smile tugging just a bit wider - "not impossible. And I have never shied from hard work."
Roa has been, for the most part, simply listening silently, her ettention hovering around the table and the kalh as the others chat. Her thoughts, wherever they lead, have even kept her from noticing Tavaly's departure until she blinks, lifting her gaze and glancing around. "Would you have chosen it?" she asks suddenly to J'cor, "had circumstances been different? Chosen to be here?"
Issa takes the chance to sit back and observe, one arm lying across the space of table in front of her, her fingers tracing the lines, catching at every little groove. But her eyes don't waver from the face of the new target for her questions. Expression is kept tightly under control, putting forth nothing but the content expression of a subordinate delighted by the words of her new leader. "Troubling," she echoes, with a confirming tone. "Well, I'm sure that you and the Weyrwoman will be able to affect a change." Silence on the topic of what she thinks of that change, however, and her attention to Roa to distract him from noticing her omission. She nods at Roa's question, submitting to its relevant contribution while she constructs another of her own in the meantime.
J'cor raises his brows at Roa's sudden interjection - and it does seem to distract him from Issa's lack of praise. "Had circumstances been different," he answers the Telgari slowly, his eyes fixed on her face, "I would not have considered - this -" a twitch of his chin towards his own knot, a hand flicking to include the Living Cavern and at length the entire weyr - "a possibility. Circumstances being as they are, I would choose to be here. Yes." His hand moves towards the klah mug, but not to drink it: instead, he sets it on his long-abandoned tray and pushes both of them away, leaving the table clear in front of him.
Roa's own klah mug is turned slowly in a circle, one finger pushing the handle so the whole thing inches its way along an irregular rotation. She nods in response to J'cor's answer and glances up towards Issa, observing the greenrider's expression.
Issa meets Roa's gaze for only a moment, entirely well aware that the goldrider knows more about her than this new Igenite. "Then it's not exactly your choice, is it?" Issa counters, with a much more benign delivery than was possible, the sharpness not found in her voice present in the flick of her eyes as her gaze comes to rest on J'cor. "If I understand you correctly that is," is the addendum, offered with a sweeter smile. "'Circumstances being what they are,' your choice was minimal." As was ours. The subtext that slithers beneath what's said might be picked up by practiced ears. But then again, it might also be imagined, for that smile she gives promotes the motivation of nothing else but good discussion.
J'cor flips a hand, dismissing any possible subtext with a patient chuckle. "I'm sorry, I was discussing hypotheticals, when you asked me to discuss the concrete, Issa. Perhaps we should both clarify what we mean when we talk about 'circumstances.' I was referring to the - tasks -" he chooses the word carefully, and with a quick smile - "which I now find facing me; knowing what awaited, yes, I would still choose to remain at High Reaches." The 'still' gets the most gentle emphasis, reminding her that Karth did not rise without some permission from his rider. "But you are looking for something more specific, I gather?"
The mug is again lifted to Roa's lips and with a faint grimace, is drained of the hot and bitter liquid. "I should get back to the infirmary," the girl murmurs. "Thank you for your company, Issa. And you, sir." She slides her chair back, wood scraping stone with an awkward sound. "There are many remnants still, of those tasks you mention, Weyrleader."
"Oh, I won't press you on details at such a late hour, Weyrleader," is Issa's quick answer to J'cor's query, the laugh that threads its way through the words a measured one, subdued. "Oh, have a good night, Roa. Make sure to get /some/ sleep." Concern rings true there as her eyes linger on the goldrider. She takes advantage of the change in this third departure to drink from her wine, too-long left neglected there sitting at her fingertips. Easily tipping a small amount past her lips, she then favors J'cor with another question. "How did you and the Weyrwoman meet?" is asked casually enough when Roa is out of earshot, as if it were the logical follow up to the rest of the conversation.
Roa passes into the tunnel that leads to the bowl.
Roa has left.
J'cor looks up to Roa as she rises. "Indeed, they remain," he agrees. "Good night, weyrwoman." He watches her out a bit, but then it's back to Issa with a gracious smile. "As you prefer," he says, allowing the concrete questioning to slip away. Her alternative, though it's on much safer ground, draws a frown from him nonetheless. "You know, I'm not entirely sure I remember. It must have been some little while after she Impressed, but that's so long ago." He sighs for time and the loss of memory, shaking his head. "An issue with old friends, I fear. The longer you have known them, the more difficult it is to remember /not/ knowing them."
Essdara arrives through the long tunnel that comes from the lower caverns.
Essdara has arrived.
The answer seems unsatisfactory, curiousity or something similar causing a tiny crease between Issa's brows, a crack in the otherwise pleasant expression. "So you've known her long, then? Yes, I suppose that happens when living at the same Weyr for so long." She drinks, draining the last dregs of her wine, letting her words seep in. Finished, she replaces it. Instead of leaving it still, however, she begins to twirl the glass idly, tipping it onto the edge of it's base in a lazy, erratic tilting motion with the sound of glass moving against wood. "And I assume you find her agreeable, for the most part, at least," she continues, blue eyes taking in the Weyrleader's reaction again. Sly smile creeps to her lips. "Though I'm sure, circumstances as they are," she borrows his phrasing, "you'd tell me she was whether you thought so or not."
J'cor raises a brow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Circumstances again?" he asks, allowing that tug of a smile to become a real thing, just to show that he's teasing. He leans just a touch forward, allowing that smile to fade to something confidential. "But yes, I have known her for a long time, and can report - genuinely, though I would indeed lie to uphold the lady's honor - that we have been friends for much of that time." J'cor falls into his own thoughts (evidently pleasant ones) for a moment here, but he breaks off quickly in order to offer the greenrider a smile of sterilized politesse.
Essdara wanders into the late-night living cavern, with a frown on her face nd those omnipresent bags under her eyes; sleepless, again. She makes her way to the sideboard, and stands there to stare over the selection before going with a deathyl cold meatroll and a glass of juice. Then, she turns and looks to see who is about to occupy herself.
The circling of the wineglass stills as J'cor leans in, his tease taken with the same agreeable expression she's been displaying throughout their small conversation. She's consistent in this if nothing else. "It's good to hear," she says, her tone confiding, passing off the small hesitation between her words as a fleeting doubt for the truth in his offered opinions, "that our new leaders present a unified front." Eyes are cast about the echoing emptiness of the sparsely occupied cavern and she catches sight of Essdara, but makes no move to attract the kitchenhands attention. Indeed, it seems as if she were avoiding the girl's gaze. "But back to you, sir, if I may. I would like to know your intentions on the... issue of Nabol. It's slightly troubling to me as a fighter," she says, pulling in her rank to emphasize that her motivations remain outside the political realm, "and it would quiet my mind to know what's to be done."
J'cor answers her confiding tone with a smile and a light breath of amusement, but he leans back and gives her space again. He doesn't glance around, himself, but at this hour, there aren't many other people hanging around the caverns - and none so conveniently close to the serving table. "Nabol," he repeats, with a faint note of resignation. "Will you forgive me, Issa, if I depart from my efforts to be frank and speak with you in couched terms?" He shrugs. "For me to speak boldly of any plans for the region would not be respectful of Lord Odern. I can tell you that I am not content with the situation, though I realize that such an evasive answer does not do much to allay your worries. I apologize."
"I understand, Weyrleader," Issa says, though her disappointment registers on her face, her expression more responsive to that emotion than any of the others seen tonight. Innocence, then, a hopeful optimism conveyed through the slight batting of her lashes and the wideness in her eyes. "I hope you have plans, though, sir. I'd hate for the situation to sour." Essdara's proximity is noted peripherally, a quick sidelong glance before she returns her full attention to J'cor. "I have taken too much of your time, I'm afraid, when you surely need your sleep," she decides, standing and leaving the empty wineglass behind. "Thank you for your answers, though, Weyrleader. They have been... quite helpful." With that, she nods respectfully and turns to go, walking past Essdara and giving her a fleeting smile as she does so. Let him find out from other sources her ties to a certain High Reaches goldrider; for now, she's just another greenrider in a Weyr full of them, slipping out into the bowl.
J'cor inclines his head to Issa as she excuses herself. "Anytime, Issa. I'm glad I was able to answer some of your questions," he tells her as she departs. With her gone, he pulls the tray of back towards him and picks up his klah mug, taking a hesitant sip before deciding, with a grimace, to set it back down again. Like his food, it's now too cold to eat.
Naros has connected.
Essdara returns Issa's smiel, though it's superficial at best. Then she turns to look at the now-alone weyrleader, and his plight of cold klah. She speaks up enough to be heard, "Sir? Would you like a fresh mug? This late at night, of course, it'll just keep you awake, but I'd be happy to fetch some."
J'cor glances up at Essdara, and either his smile is genuine or he is the best faker of all of them. "No, miss, I think your latter observation is quite apt. I'd do well not to encourage any more sleeplessness than is already my lot. Thank you, however." As he says this, he watches her with the restrained curiosity of someone who's trying to place a familiar face, and so far failing at it.
Essdara smiles, and quietly takes the seat Issa abandoned, then. "I keep drinking it on most nights like this, where I can't sleep. But I am trying to break that habit. Have you been settling in ok? I haven't seen you since the night you arrived. I guess that urgent messages was about the Weyrwoman?"
J'cor makes the connection with that helpful reminder, nodding with self-satisfaction as he remembers. "It is a hard habit to break," he murmurs his agreement. A small smile flashes across his face and is gone. "My adjustment has been easy enough, thank you. I suppose it will break no confidences, at this point, if I admit that I was indeed here on the Weyrwoman's behalf."
Essdara grins, "Well, don't think it counts as a secret. Someone had to bring a message, and a Igen wingleader with an urgent message, right before all this... But it doesn't matter, I think the both of you are doing a good job." She winces a bit. "This last Fall notwithstanding."
J'cor winces with her, closing his eyes and drawing a slow breath. "Yes," he says quietly. "Thank you, Essdara."
Essdara lookds down a long moment, then back up with that forced smile back. "I've spent some time with the Weyrwoman, though, and I like her. I know some people have complained, so I guess I wanted to make sure you hear from the people who think you will do well, too."
J'cor opens his eyes again, having regained his composure sufficiently that he can offer her comment an appreciative smile. "Thank you - I believe that the weyr will come around, once they have had time to adjust and see for themselves what our goals are, but it is indeed reassuring to hear you say that."
Essdara nods, then makes a face and stands. "Umm. I think I just realised why I can't sleep, and, umm. I'm sorry, bye." A bit green, she rushes off towards the lower caverns, hand over mouth.
Living Cavern
Large enough to hold the majority of the Weyr's human population, this cavern can become loud enough to deafen thanks to the acoustics caused by its size. The ceiling is so far overhead that it's cast into shadow, a darkness that is broken only by the spark and glitter of a lucky beam of light striking the minerals found in the rock walls. Below, most of the floor is covered with an assortment of long tables and benches. There are some smaller tables, surrounded by chairs, but privacy appears to be a rare thing in this bustling cavern. Large hearths line the west wall, with fires burning day and night to warm the food and drink that keep the Weyr's inhabitants fueled. The serving tables are near the hearth, opposite the dais that holds the single table reserved for the Weyr leadership and honored guests.
This room may be +watched (+help watch).
Contents:
Reyce
Obvious Exits:
Upper Caverns (UC) Lower Caverns (LC) Kitchen (K)
Infirmary (INF) Bowl (B)
Reyce goes home.
Reyce has left.
Rysia has arrived.
Issa has arrived.
It's a late hour for dinner, but there are a few hungry loners and even a pair of large groups, leftovers from the 'real' dinnertime. J'cor sits with one of those groups, which is just beginning to dissolve after a long discussion of wing-training and Thread tactics - notably, not a word about Igen vs. High Reaches politics. While his tablemates excuse themselves and head home, the weyrleader remains in his seat, giving each departure a gracious nod although it seems his attention has wandered into his own thoughts.
From the direction of the bowl comes the little Telgari weyrwoman, and though she wears a coat, it is open and her face, while flushed, is not quite so red as one might expect from someone who has spent the last good while outside. More likely that she came from some other indoor area in a quick jaunt across the bowl. There are dark circles under the girl's eyes and her expression is one set and determined as she makes a b-line for the serving area or, more specifically, the klah.
Rysia slips in, glancing over her shoulder with much the manner of one checking to make sure she is not followed. Of course, any sneakiness by doing so is rather ruined when her hip catches the corner of the serving table with all the empty plates. There is no breakage, but a definate wobble or three, before everything is settled. Once that is done, plates and food are bypassed, and the young woman heads straight for the klah pitchers, filling a mug up with the hot beverage.
Lingering over a small, disfigured pile of mashed tubers long-grown cold, is Issa. She sits alone at the table next to the new Weyrleader, inconspicuously within earshot and sipping idly at a glass of wine. Her own group has left long before the break of the tacticians the next table over. But she stays, still prodding her potatoes with a lazy fork, still making the pretense that she's going to eat them sooner or later.
J'cor's seat is close enough to the serving table that the sound of wobbling dinnerware startles him out of his thoughts, and he shoots Rysia a quick look of concern. "Are you all right, miss?" he calls as she passes, his eyes following her on her path to the klah. Seeing Roa there as well, he offers her a nod and a short smile. Like Issa, he's got a tray in front of him, some of his food still uneaten; unlike her, he seems to have given up on the pretense. It's far too cold to be edible.
Roa looks over as the table wobbles and offers Rysia first a wordless nod in greeting and then, after pouring her own mug, the pitcher of klah. "Hi," she murmurs a bit flatly. "How are you?" Lifting the mug and cradling it in her hands, she turns a bit to lean with her back against the serving table and so notes the Weyrleader and then Issa at adjoining tables. For his nod, J'cor is given an, "'Evening, sir."
Rysia tilts her head at Roa for a moment, then turns as well, "Well'nough, sir." A pause, then she adds, "'lo, Issa." A longer pause, "Roa." Pleasentries done, she then turns back towards pouring sweetner into the drink.
It's less the sudden clatter and more the Weyleader's question that draws Issa's attention to the woman that caused the clanking of dishes. Recognition sparks in her eyes, along with a genuine cheer that's been absent all too often recently. "Rysia," Issa greets, the same sentiment reflected in the subtle tones of her voice. But she waits for the woman to come closer to say anything more. As the others recognize Roa, she also does, but with nothing more than a glance and a smile. She turns on her bench, favoring J'cor with her profile rather than the back of her head, should he look.
"Good evening, miss," J'cor answers Roa, accepting Rysia's answer with a mute nod. He does indeed catch a glimpse of greenrider-in-profile when Rysia's greeting shifts his attention that way, but if he notices Issa's auspicious placement, he doesn't linger on it. Looking back at the two with their drinks, his smile turns helpless as he asks, "I don't suppose one of you would kindly favor me with a mug?" He raises two fingers towards the klah pot.
Roa sets her own mug down and has a moment of silence, eyes flicking back and forth between Issa and J'cor. Lips purse very slightly. Then she turns again, back to the others, to set her mug down and take up an empty one, carefully pouring a second mug. Rather than asking what J'cor takes, however, she only steps foward, her own cup left behind for the moment, to carefully set the dark and bitter brew in the middle of his table. It's only then that she queries, "Did you want sweetener or anything?"
Tavaly enters from the bowl outside.
Tavaly has arrived.
Rysia watches Roa and J'cor for a long moment, then blinks at Issa, "Ah.. hello. Or did I already be sayin' that?" she asks, before making an effort of sorts, and crossing over to the occupied table. About to sit down, she looks towards the Weyrleader, and asks, "Mind more folk?"
It's only when J'cor's attention is on the klah that Issa risks a glance, one of only few that have been chanced that night. It's entirely blank, betraying nothing of her inclinations, personal or political. Rysia elicits a smile from the greenrider, however. "You did, but greetings from childhood friends are welcome, no matter what the quantity." Her eyes follow the girl through her inquiry to the Weyrleader once again, and she slips into the opportunity gracefully. Her hand drifts to her wine glass, sweeping it from the tabletop as she stands fluidly, leaving behind the food she studied for so long. "Can I join you?" she asks of Rysia only, her smile deepening, though, as her gaze includes J'cor and the nearby Roa.
J'cor pulls the cup of klah towards him, peering curiously into his its dark, unsweetened depths. "I'm afraid I was hoping for some, yes. But please, sit - all of you." And his smile branches out to the other two, including them in the invitation. "I should be glad to have your company, and I'll rejoin you in a bit. Laziness," he adds as he stands up and grabs the offered klah mug, "has never benefitted anyone." He allows them some time to settle in his absence as he leaves from the table, going to sweeten his own drink and (while he's at it) to pick up Roa's for her.
Rysia's chuckle is rather, well, lacking, but the attempt is made, before she blinks, and hms. "I'll need to be tryin' ta sleep tonight. Coulda sworn...." she trails off, then shakes her head, and take a deep swallow of that stuff known to keep folks up all night. "How be ye?" she inquires of Issa, as she takes a seat.
Roa finds herself, well, invited to sit. Probably. At any rate, the Telgari sinks down into a seat and leans back against it as J'cor rises. She doesn't show much interest in scrambling up after her mug and leaves J'cor to retrieve it, if he will. She doesn't respond to Issa's query though she does return the broader smile with one of her own, right hand lifting in a vague little wave.
Meanwhile, teeth chattering, the local psychopath has bee-lined for the klah table and nearly runs smack into J'cor as he goes about sweetening his drink. Pale eyes widen and skirt up to the man's face, horrified. "Sorry 'bout that.. uh.. Sir." Bah. Formalities suck. She rifles around for an unused mug and finds the steaming liquid a place in its emptiness. Shoving her nose in it, she breathes deep a moment. Aaah. An eye to the open space in the cavern is set upon.. Oh, hey! A bright smile below a red, chilled nose is thrown to the other women. "Evening!" She says brightly, glancing from Roa, to Issa, to.. Her smile falters a little as she spots Rysia, and it turns a little apologetic.
Issa slides into her own seat with a carefully calculated motion, setting down her glass, throwing a returning wave to Roa and sinking down, each carried out in a single fluid sequence. "I've been... well," she offers, a split second decision lying in that briefest of pauses. "I that things are going well for you two?" Her smiling gaze sweeps to include Roa.
J'cor reflexively straightens his arm when Tavaly bumps into him - if that klah's going to spill, he doesn't want it spilling on /him/. Fortunately, it only slops a little onto his fingers, and though it's hot enough to draw a brief grimace from him, he converts the expression into a forgiving smile for Tavaly's sake. "No harm done, miss." This as he picks up a nearby cloth and wipes the klah off his fingers, then adds the sweetener. Realizing, from a glance over his shoulder, that she knows his little group of tablemates, he extends the invitation to her as well: "Will you join us?" Picking up his own and Roa's mugs, he turns back towards the table.
Decisions, decisions. To deal with rumours, and the ever-psychotic Tavaly, or to deal with Issa's cheerful curiousity. "Still alive," she allows, before nodding slightly to Tava, "Evenin'." (Rysia)
"I'm all right, thank you Issa," Roa replies and then tooks over as yet more table jostling occurins. "Evening, Tavaly," she calls with another small wave. A glance towards the approaching J'cor, and then another one for Rysia. And then her gaze just sort of slides down to the table and settles there.
Huhwha? In her brief awkwardness, the greenling reacts to J'cors extended offer veeeery slowly. She turns to look at the man with curiosity. "Who, me?" She pauses. "I.. sure!" Duh. She sort of.. auto pilots behind the man and tries not to really look at anyone. Especially Rysia. Mm, klah sure is pretty and distracting! Mm, boy! She finds an empty seat as far away from the woman as possible, plunking down in it and concentrating long and hard on the mug in her hands.
But Issa won't let Tavaly sink into obscurity there, studying her klah. "I'm glad," she notes to Roa or Rysia, she doesn't specify, then turning to the other greenrider with, "Tavaly," spoken in a light cheerful voice, just one more of many greetings in such a short span of time. Eyes flicker briefly to that Weyrleader in whose wake Tavaly follows, but soon return to their target. "How is T'zen?"
J'cor nods solemnly in answer to Tavaly, seemingly oblivious to her hesitation. As he returns Roa's klah mug to her, Issa's question gains a moment of his attention and he pauses to consider the greenrider for just a moment, his blank expression betraying none of his reflections. Taking a sip of klah to cover his pause, he moves smoothly to resume his own seat. He offers his tablemates a smile as he reseats himself, but lets them continue to exchange greetings without his interference.
"Thank you," Roa slides her mug of klah closer and blows on it quietly. At Issa's question, the goldrider glances upwards but seems content, just now, to keep quiet.
Rysia stares at her mug of klah for a moment, then shakes her head, "Sorry. Gotta go." Issa gets a half-attempted smile, before she's removing herself from the table in the usual way, by half falling over it, then heading towards the bowl, klah mug in hand, and bruise-marks forming from encounters with the edges of tables and benches.
"Crazy." Tav responds easily, a grateful, lopsided smile touching her lips as her gaze raises to meet Issa's. "And all the better for it. Took a trip around the bowl for morning sweeps today. Good exercise. Uneth and Immath needed it, definitely." Tav rattles off, side-glancing the others, especially the foreign man. Her eyes snap, however, to the retreating Rysia and her eyes close, then. She says nothing. Really, what is there to say?
"Ah... good seeing you again," Issa offers in helpless resignation at Rysia's departure, a gentle smile following her as she leaves, though it's tempered with a small crease of confusion as well. "Of course," she then remarks to Tavaly, her fingertips twisting the stem of her glass so that the wine within shivers with the movement. "It's good to hear. I haven't seen him since... oh, well, in a while." A smoothing of what could have been said instead, perhaps, but the hesitation is minimal. Then quickly her glance changes to J'cor, his new title requiring at least a small effort at polite formality at least. "Sir, I don't believe I've introduced myself. Excuse me, I know these two well enough that it escaped me. Issa, rider of Oshisyth."
J'cor watches Rysia's stumbling with a small frown, but he allows her to retreat in silence. Issa's introduction pulls a thin smile onto his face. "Issa," he repeats, with the air of one committing a name to memory. "A pleasure to meet you. And Immath - so you're Tavaly, correct? I believe I've encountered you before, with the weyrwoman here." A nod to Roa, and now everyone's included in his response. J'cor rewards himself for a job well done by taking a sip of his klah, though his eyes continue to watch the others' reactions even as he drinks.
Roa watches Rysia go, but her opinion seems to be similar to Tavaly's. Not much can or ought to be done about that sudden departure. "You have? With me?" A slow blink at the Weyrleader's comment and then, "Oh! Yes. Out in the snow. Tavaly, I'm glad to hear T'zen is well." Oh the inanity.
Nodding her head, Tav turns from her klah and back to Issa. "Yea he's.. been real busy. Lately." Tav admits with a scrunching of her nose. J'cor steals her attention for a moment, and she nods. "Good job. I'd give you a cookie, but I'm fresh out. And yea. We met before while Tialith was turning her frosty clutch over." Roa's comments get a rather.. skewed look. As though Tav were questioning Roa's sanity over the top of her mug.
Issa takes note of the circular inclusion that J'cor manages, don't let that nonchalant glance and idle sip fool you. The wine glass remains cradled, the curve of the glass nestled against her palm as her hand stalls mid-motion between her mouth and the table. "You're finding your way around High Reaches already, I see," she comments, an arid dryness in her voice, though with it she offers a steady smile. She lets her gaze drift from Tavaly to Roa easily then, catching the younger greenrider's look.
J'cor glances at Roa, but doesn't allow his gaze to linger, simply offering her a nod of confirmation and then allowing her the privacy to regroup as he turns back to Tavaly. He chuckles at the offered cookie. "I am a fair student," he replies mildly, an answer which includes Issa's dry comment. "Learning these things is my job, is it not?" The question prompts a quick smile and a hand turned over in helpless acceptance of his name-learning responsibilities.
A quick sigh and a glance at the tabletop. "Aye, I suppose it is, sir." A glance between all present. Eek. "Well, as delightfully awkward as this has been, I've got business that needs seeing to. Good evening. Is, Roa.. Weyrleader." The final word is spoken hesitantly, and a little uncertain. She rises, and skitters towards the lower caverns.
Tavaly ventures down the long tunnel that leads to the lower caverns.
Tavaly has left.
Issa gives a short nod, pulling her glass back again to her lips before she answers. Pale eyes contemplate the Weyrleader over the rim, then are drawn to Tavaly's sudden departure, the second of the night. The glass drops and this time makes it all the way to the table. "Night, Tavaly," she sends after the greenrider. "I suppose we all do what we must," Issa adds to the conversation, a twist of some darker amusement lying there beneath her words, her eyes dropping to study the grain of the table being magnified at the foot of her glass. "I admit that I haven't had much time between falls to learn much more of you and our Weyrwoman other than your origins."
J'cor, as with so many things, does not seem to notice the uncertainty with which the weyrling speaks his title, offering her a parting nod and a pleasant "Good evening." Raising the klah mug to his lips, he steals a glance at Roa before his eyes return to Issa. His voice echoes into the mug when he says, "Well, I am currently at your disposal, Issa. Whatever you would like to learn more about, please do not hesitate to ask." He takes his drink.
The fact that Issa has been waiting for such an opportunity is absent from all save the quick tap of her fingers against the stem of the glass they hover about. Lips frozen into a contemplative smirk, she allows her eyes to rest on the Weyrleader's face for a moment before answering. Sparing a look to Roa with a faint surge in the intensity of her grin, she asks, "Well, how do you find our Weyr as it stood, then, Weyrleader? Before your surely capable leadership took effect?"
J'cor considers her question quietly, the klah held in his mouth until it sours and he has to swallow it down. "Before that," he concedes softly, setting down his mug. Both hands go to the table as he looks at Issa, answering her grin with a calm smile of his own. Conversationally: "Well, Issa, I admit I found it troubling. The grounding of a wing, for example; the clear overworking of other wings, to compensate. It is no quick task to remedy and yet it must be remedied quickly. Other situations abound, but you hardly need me to enumerate the difficulties which now face our weyr." He echoes her phrase - 'our weyr' - so very coolly, adding himself into the picture. "So to summarize once more: troubling. But -" his hand goes up, the edges of his smile tugging just a bit wider - "not impossible. And I have never shied from hard work."
Roa has been, for the most part, simply listening silently, her ettention hovering around the table and the kalh as the others chat. Her thoughts, wherever they lead, have even kept her from noticing Tavaly's departure until she blinks, lifting her gaze and glancing around. "Would you have chosen it?" she asks suddenly to J'cor, "had circumstances been different? Chosen to be here?"
Issa takes the chance to sit back and observe, one arm lying across the space of table in front of her, her fingers tracing the lines, catching at every little groove. But her eyes don't waver from the face of the new target for her questions. Expression is kept tightly under control, putting forth nothing but the content expression of a subordinate delighted by the words of her new leader. "Troubling," she echoes, with a confirming tone. "Well, I'm sure that you and the Weyrwoman will be able to affect a change." Silence on the topic of what she thinks of that change, however, and her attention to Roa to distract him from noticing her omission. She nods at Roa's question, submitting to its relevant contribution while she constructs another of her own in the meantime.
J'cor raises his brows at Roa's sudden interjection - and it does seem to distract him from Issa's lack of praise. "Had circumstances been different," he answers the Telgari slowly, his eyes fixed on her face, "I would not have considered - this -" a twitch of his chin towards his own knot, a hand flicking to include the Living Cavern and at length the entire weyr - "a possibility. Circumstances being as they are, I would choose to be here. Yes." His hand moves towards the klah mug, but not to drink it: instead, he sets it on his long-abandoned tray and pushes both of them away, leaving the table clear in front of him.
Roa's own klah mug is turned slowly in a circle, one finger pushing the handle so the whole thing inches its way along an irregular rotation. She nods in response to J'cor's answer and glances up towards Issa, observing the greenrider's expression.
Issa meets Roa's gaze for only a moment, entirely well aware that the goldrider knows more about her than this new Igenite. "Then it's not exactly your choice, is it?" Issa counters, with a much more benign delivery than was possible, the sharpness not found in her voice present in the flick of her eyes as her gaze comes to rest on J'cor. "If I understand you correctly that is," is the addendum, offered with a sweeter smile. "'Circumstances being what they are,' your choice was minimal." As was ours. The subtext that slithers beneath what's said might be picked up by practiced ears. But then again, it might also be imagined, for that smile she gives promotes the motivation of nothing else but good discussion.
J'cor flips a hand, dismissing any possible subtext with a patient chuckle. "I'm sorry, I was discussing hypotheticals, when you asked me to discuss the concrete, Issa. Perhaps we should both clarify what we mean when we talk about 'circumstances.' I was referring to the - tasks -" he chooses the word carefully, and with a quick smile - "which I now find facing me; knowing what awaited, yes, I would still choose to remain at High Reaches." The 'still' gets the most gentle emphasis, reminding her that Karth did not rise without some permission from his rider. "But you are looking for something more specific, I gather?"
The mug is again lifted to Roa's lips and with a faint grimace, is drained of the hot and bitter liquid. "I should get back to the infirmary," the girl murmurs. "Thank you for your company, Issa. And you, sir." She slides her chair back, wood scraping stone with an awkward sound. "There are many remnants still, of those tasks you mention, Weyrleader."
"Oh, I won't press you on details at such a late hour, Weyrleader," is Issa's quick answer to J'cor's query, the laugh that threads its way through the words a measured one, subdued. "Oh, have a good night, Roa. Make sure to get /some/ sleep." Concern rings true there as her eyes linger on the goldrider. She takes advantage of the change in this third departure to drink from her wine, too-long left neglected there sitting at her fingertips. Easily tipping a small amount past her lips, she then favors J'cor with another question. "How did you and the Weyrwoman meet?" is asked casually enough when Roa is out of earshot, as if it were the logical follow up to the rest of the conversation.
Roa passes into the tunnel that leads to the bowl.
Roa has left.
J'cor looks up to Roa as she rises. "Indeed, they remain," he agrees. "Good night, weyrwoman." He watches her out a bit, but then it's back to Issa with a gracious smile. "As you prefer," he says, allowing the concrete questioning to slip away. Her alternative, though it's on much safer ground, draws a frown from him nonetheless. "You know, I'm not entirely sure I remember. It must have been some little while after she Impressed, but that's so long ago." He sighs for time and the loss of memory, shaking his head. "An issue with old friends, I fear. The longer you have known them, the more difficult it is to remember /not/ knowing them."
Essdara arrives through the long tunnel that comes from the lower caverns.
Essdara has arrived.
The answer seems unsatisfactory, curiousity or something similar causing a tiny crease between Issa's brows, a crack in the otherwise pleasant expression. "So you've known her long, then? Yes, I suppose that happens when living at the same Weyr for so long." She drinks, draining the last dregs of her wine, letting her words seep in. Finished, she replaces it. Instead of leaving it still, however, she begins to twirl the glass idly, tipping it onto the edge of it's base in a lazy, erratic tilting motion with the sound of glass moving against wood. "And I assume you find her agreeable, for the most part, at least," she continues, blue eyes taking in the Weyrleader's reaction again. Sly smile creeps to her lips. "Though I'm sure, circumstances as they are," she borrows his phrasing, "you'd tell me she was whether you thought so or not."
J'cor raises a brow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Circumstances again?" he asks, allowing that tug of a smile to become a real thing, just to show that he's teasing. He leans just a touch forward, allowing that smile to fade to something confidential. "But yes, I have known her for a long time, and can report - genuinely, though I would indeed lie to uphold the lady's honor - that we have been friends for much of that time." J'cor falls into his own thoughts (evidently pleasant ones) for a moment here, but he breaks off quickly in order to offer the greenrider a smile of sterilized politesse.
Essdara wanders into the late-night living cavern, with a frown on her face nd those omnipresent bags under her eyes; sleepless, again. She makes her way to the sideboard, and stands there to stare over the selection before going with a deathyl cold meatroll and a glass of juice. Then, she turns and looks to see who is about to occupy herself.
The circling of the wineglass stills as J'cor leans in, his tease taken with the same agreeable expression she's been displaying throughout their small conversation. She's consistent in this if nothing else. "It's good to hear," she says, her tone confiding, passing off the small hesitation between her words as a fleeting doubt for the truth in his offered opinions, "that our new leaders present a unified front." Eyes are cast about the echoing emptiness of the sparsely occupied cavern and she catches sight of Essdara, but makes no move to attract the kitchenhands attention. Indeed, it seems as if she were avoiding the girl's gaze. "But back to you, sir, if I may. I would like to know your intentions on the... issue of Nabol. It's slightly troubling to me as a fighter," she says, pulling in her rank to emphasize that her motivations remain outside the political realm, "and it would quiet my mind to know what's to be done."
J'cor answers her confiding tone with a smile and a light breath of amusement, but he leans back and gives her space again. He doesn't glance around, himself, but at this hour, there aren't many other people hanging around the caverns - and none so conveniently close to the serving table. "Nabol," he repeats, with a faint note of resignation. "Will you forgive me, Issa, if I depart from my efforts to be frank and speak with you in couched terms?" He shrugs. "For me to speak boldly of any plans for the region would not be respectful of Lord Odern. I can tell you that I am not content with the situation, though I realize that such an evasive answer does not do much to allay your worries. I apologize."
"I understand, Weyrleader," Issa says, though her disappointment registers on her face, her expression more responsive to that emotion than any of the others seen tonight. Innocence, then, a hopeful optimism conveyed through the slight batting of her lashes and the wideness in her eyes. "I hope you have plans, though, sir. I'd hate for the situation to sour." Essdara's proximity is noted peripherally, a quick sidelong glance before she returns her full attention to J'cor. "I have taken too much of your time, I'm afraid, when you surely need your sleep," she decides, standing and leaving the empty wineglass behind. "Thank you for your answers, though, Weyrleader. They have been... quite helpful." With that, she nods respectfully and turns to go, walking past Essdara and giving her a fleeting smile as she does so. Let him find out from other sources her ties to a certain High Reaches goldrider; for now, she's just another greenrider in a Weyr full of them, slipping out into the bowl.
J'cor inclines his head to Issa as she excuses herself. "Anytime, Issa. I'm glad I was able to answer some of your questions," he tells her as she departs. With her gone, he pulls the tray of back towards him and picks up his klah mug, taking a hesitant sip before deciding, with a grimace, to set it back down again. Like his food, it's now too cold to eat.
Naros has connected.
Essdara returns Issa's smiel, though it's superficial at best. Then she turns to look at the now-alone weyrleader, and his plight of cold klah. She speaks up enough to be heard, "Sir? Would you like a fresh mug? This late at night, of course, it'll just keep you awake, but I'd be happy to fetch some."
J'cor glances up at Essdara, and either his smile is genuine or he is the best faker of all of them. "No, miss, I think your latter observation is quite apt. I'd do well not to encourage any more sleeplessness than is already my lot. Thank you, however." As he says this, he watches her with the restrained curiosity of someone who's trying to place a familiar face, and so far failing at it.
Essdara smiles, and quietly takes the seat Issa abandoned, then. "I keep drinking it on most nights like this, where I can't sleep. But I am trying to break that habit. Have you been settling in ok? I haven't seen you since the night you arrived. I guess that urgent messages was about the Weyrwoman?"
J'cor makes the connection with that helpful reminder, nodding with self-satisfaction as he remembers. "It is a hard habit to break," he murmurs his agreement. A small smile flashes across his face and is gone. "My adjustment has been easy enough, thank you. I suppose it will break no confidences, at this point, if I admit that I was indeed here on the Weyrwoman's behalf."
Essdara grins, "Well, don't think it counts as a secret. Someone had to bring a message, and a Igen wingleader with an urgent message, right before all this... But it doesn't matter, I think the both of you are doing a good job." She winces a bit. "This last Fall notwithstanding."
J'cor winces with her, closing his eyes and drawing a slow breath. "Yes," he says quietly. "Thank you, Essdara."
Essdara lookds down a long moment, then back up with that forced smile back. "I've spent some time with the Weyrwoman, though, and I like her. I know some people have complained, so I guess I wanted to make sure you hear from the people who think you will do well, too."
J'cor opens his eyes again, having regained his composure sufficiently that he can offer her comment an appreciative smile. "Thank you - I believe that the weyr will come around, once they have had time to adjust and see for themselves what our goals are, but it is indeed reassuring to hear you say that."
Essdara nods, then makes a face and stands. "Umm. I think I just realised why I can't sleep, and, umm. I'm sorry, bye." A bit green, she rushes off towards the lower caverns, hand over mouth.