==== January 26th 2014
==== M'rev, Lisette
==== M'rev and Lisette have opposite day during study time.

Who M'rev, Lisette
What M'rev and Lisette have opposite day during study time.
When There are 0 turns, 1 month and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where The Archive Library

mrev2.jpg Lis13.jpg


Archive Library
Where once books reigned supreme, this open space is now dominated by a stalwart skybroom reaching to the sky through a broken ceiling. What was once evidence of collapse is now ornately carved with engraved ivy, matched by a clever contraption of stone that allows the gap to be closed in inclement weather. A small garden occupies the space around the tree-trunk, all manicured bushes and flowering shrubbery enclosed by a grated gutter. The walls are lined with bookcases, while a spiral staircase leans on the western wall to wind upwards to the second level. Tucked in the corners and scattered in the main areas are tables and chairs, cafe-style, and comfortably worn overstuffed armchairs. It is the perfect place for individuals to gather, to enjoy the offerings of the food-cart or a spirited conversation.

The library is not a place that one would have normally found Lisette, at least not until the last seven or so. This place has seen more action since its renovations were complete and there's a hub of activity in the center, but that's not for her. She has gotten herself a cup of klah from one of the food carts, but she drifts away with a pile of papers under one arm as well as some sort of board. The girl finds a roomy table set in an area that's devoid of other people immediately nearby. Her pages are spread out and the board turns out to be black slate marred by chalk marks. Things to write with are produced from a bag and she sets to the task of… studying. And she looks so enthused by it as she begins to painstakingly copy letters out on the slate.

The area Lisette occupies may be devoid of people, but not the other side of the room, where M'rev has been sitting, just another quiet figure hunched over a book. It's the notebook again. And he's writing again. When Lisette arrived, he missed it and now, as he seems to reach a pause that's long enough for his gaze to settle into the idle watching of other people at other tables, of people perusing the shelves, eventually he spies one dark-haired girl with a face he actually recognizes. Or maybe he just recognizes the bangs. Either way, there are a few long moments where he watches her before his attention wanders again, and then it seems he's ready to close his notebook and leave his table. He heads over toward Lisette and slides into the seat opposite her, without a word; he just settles back and looks at her.

"I'm still not going to get lunch with you." Lisette hasn't bothered to look up to actually see who the person is that's decided to take a seat. But her quick response would suggest that this isn't the first (or second) time the person who wants to eat sandwiches with her has tried to get her to say yes. She works the piece of chalk against the slate, painstakingly working through the upper case part of the alphabet. Some letters are coming out better than others. This must just be fascinating for M'rev to watch. Like observing grass grow. It's the silence that gets her and eventually she lifts her chin and peeks out from under the signature bangs. "Oh. You're not the guy with the glasses."

The mistaken identity gives M'rev some amusement — didn't they play that game once before? But then perhaps it's the opportunity to swap roles that has brought the rider over here anyway. Sure, he watches what she's working on, but only long enough to figure out that she's learning her letters, and then he lets his eye skim casually away until she's ready to look up at him. He smiles — because no, he's not the guy with the glasses — and asks, "So what were you doing instead?" Maybe it's a strange way to start a conversation, and maybe a confusing one, but does lift his chin toward her slate for a hint. Instead of learning her letters.

At least the guy with the glasses won't come sit down with her tonight, while M'rev is there anyway. There's a faint twitch of her hand as she nearly moves to cover the slate board. But instead there's a kind of resolvement as she withdraws it, she can't take back what he might have seen. The question does indeed throw Lisette for a loop, until he makes the motion towards her work. She sucks in a breath before smiling tightly, shoulders half-shrugging. "I improvised." Which sounds like it has the potential for all sorts of awesome things to have had happened in its wake. "Some of those instructions are just suggestions anyway." There's a flippant twitch of her fingers, but her heart isn't quite in it.

It's a bit of thought that narrows M'rev's eyes, nothing critical in the expression but rather just the concerted workings of imagination. And he nods a little bit, a shallow bob of his head. "But I mean instead of the lessons. Mending socks and listening to someone else read?" Maybe he's not so quick to believe it now, or maybe all the more so. "Not running wild over the countryside with your bare feet in the dirt and brambles in your hair." A hand comes up from under the table, where it appears to have been resting on a thigh, to scratch beside his mouth.

"I didn't mend any socks." Lisette corrects, the cast to her mouth crooked as she traces the chalk along the patterns of letters. It's not as focused as it was before, but she can do this and hold a conversation still. "It was nets. And what else are you going to do while that happens? It's not like my aunt was any good for gossip. There wasn't any gossip anyway." She blows out a bit of air for that particular dull, dry memory. "I had lessons before we came south. But that was a long time ago." Long enough for her to largely forget what she had learned. "Do I look like I would get brambles in my hair?" She asks, glancing up at him between letters.

"Right." Does M'rev remember that or does he just pretend? But now he deducts: "Nets. Fish. Sailing. And that's here, in the south. On the sea." There's more, very likely, that he doesn't say aloud just now, as he watches her turn her attention back, largely, to her letters. "Did you run away on the gusts of a storm or did a dragon sweep in to rescue you, pluck you like a fish from the stream?" His hand is back on his leg, but now it's the hand with the notebook that moves, tapping it against his thigh with only a dull patting sound and the visible flex of his arm. He's thinking on it, trying to guess, maybe he has an idea even before she has a chance to answer.

"Yes, very good. Fishing involves the sea." Lisette drawls with placid amusement, working her fingers along the angles of the letter 'R'. "But really what my father was looking for was sea monsters. You get more marks for the ones that have three heads." Not that those exist on Pern, but she says it with such a serious expression on her face a person could almost believe that it was true if they didn't know any better. "I was rescued by a dragon but not by the eggs on the sand. So I hear a sit, continuing to live a life of high excitement. Just under different terms." Because the laundries, or whatever she does now, is so exciting. Just as exciting as mending net must have been. She's close to the end of her alphabet now.

"Yeah, I'm a regular savant," M'rev drolls with a lopsided smile. "Just picturing it. No brambles." Again he glances away, leaving her to her letters for a moment as he muses over the new additions to the story. "Kissed you parents goodbye and never looked back," he'll guess that too. "Or was it just your mother? Father off at sea somewhere, with his three-headed monsters." And what happens when she gets to the end of her alphabet? Does she start from the beginning again or does she pack it all up and go? M'rev seems at ease enough, in no kind of hurry. "The books your aunt read, were they the same ones over and over, until you could almost recite them?" But with that question, his brows start to furrow more seriously and his back peels from the chair. "Anyway."

"I can tell." Lisette chimes in as she hits the last one there. She holds the board up and away from her face, squinting at her hard work. He can't see from this angle but it must not be of decent quality overall since she wrinkles her nose at it and sighs. "Well, I sent them a letter later." 'Them' is rather vague, but further clarification doesn't come. The slate goes down onto the table with the chalk. She doesn't pack up or anything, but she does spend some time stretching her fingers out. "You're full of questions tonight. Are you looking for source material for your seedy-but-not-seedy novel about your life?" She wonders with a playful smile, not answering the one about reciting things from memory.

"Oh did you," M'rev bounces back, this one not at all a question meant to be answered, just arching amusement for the letter sent by a girl who is just now learning to write. Of course, clearly she didn't do the writing herself. He can't resist, though. "Was it just pictures? Stick figure with bangs climbing on a dragon. Stick figure with bangs standing in front of eggs. Stick figure with bangs and a frown standing in front of cracked eggs. Stick figure with bangs, arms bent, palms up, little lines at her shoulders to suggest a shrug. Stick figure smiling on the beach with a drink in her hand." He's getting up, though, and tapping his notebook to the table. But if he's asked too many questions, well, that all seems to be done now, and he just smiles sedately. "Must be." Source material.

"Must have been." It might not have been a question meant to be answered, but he gets a response to it anyway. Her mug of klah, something forgotten while she was writing out letters and talking to the man with the notebook, is finally taken up. Though by now it's probably cooled down to something lukewarm and disgusting, but she sips at it with a vague smiling playing out over her lips. If he's getting up to take his leave, she doesn't seem to be in any rush to stop him. After all, he does seem to have some sort of thing to keep up with in his journal. Or notebook. Or novel. Whatever it is. Far be it for her to keep it from him.

And so that's all. M'rev lifts his chin toward her slate again and tells Lisette, "Good luck," no jest in it. And then, yes, he'll take his journal and head on out, to leave her to her work in peace.

Lisette gets lazy on her traditional good-byes. So she just watches him go. Then she gets back to studying.

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