==== December 18, 2013
==== W'rin, K'vvan, Sadaiya
==== K'vvan comes to check in with the Weyrleader, but ends up getting accosted by the Weyrwoman

Who W'rin, K'vvan, Sadaiya
What K'vvan comes to check in with the Weyrleader, but ends up getting accosted by the Weyrwoman
When 5 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where Igen Weyr

1Wrin.jpg


Council Chambers
However disheveled the corridor outside might lie, THIS room - the sole dominion of the Weyr's upper elite - is always sparkling, ever swept, ever dusted, its walls scrubbed free of the grime of ages. A certain spartan grandeur fills the Council Chamber, with its foreboding stonework and heavy wooden door. A round table fills the bulk of the space, an ancient creation of fire-hardened wood, carved with the three dune'd symbol of Igen Weyr. Chairs surround: hard-backed things (with thin cushions) for the most part, but two grandiose chairs, on opposite sides of the table, that seat Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. The walls are lined with elegant old tapestries, depicting scenes of ancient Igen glories.


K'vvan has hides spread out along one side of the wooden table. Under his breath he mutters as he sorts the hides, moving each paper with the mutters. Upon the papers are lists and diagrams of wing related activities- all things which a newly appointed wingsecond would totally have and be responsible for. His hair hangs slightly down into his eyes, and occasionally he reaches up to brush it back behind an ear. When he does, his eyes flick toward the doorway, as if he is waiting for someone.

The massive chamber door swings open with force, as the newly reupped weyrleader stalks into the room. The blackened eyes from his nose, broken during the flight, yellowing about the fringes, but the bags, the bags are from lack of sleep. "Wingsecond." Is grunted as he makes his wave to the head of the table. Dropping with a grunt into a seat just on the opposite side of the charts. A quick, superficial, upside down scan before he leans back. "Thoughts?"

K'vvan straightens noticeably when W'rin bangs into the room, his feet doing a rather awkward shuffle. There might even be a slight scowl as the weyrleader refers to him by his rank. "Right." K'vvan puts the last of the hides into the appropriate pile and shoves one towards W'rin. "So far, it works. No one is complaining," other than K'vvan, "about a female leader. A few brown rider," meaning just one, "have expressed concern about a majority of the wing not being able to make a full fall and thus them having to shoulder more than is acceptable." K'vvan picks up another pile and sets it next to the first. "This is how she's trying to avoid that. The wing has been split, with riders knowing which section they're in. She wants us to start practicing the shift between groups soon- now that we've ironed most of the trouble out of basic formations." K'vvan pushes the last pile towards it. "These," and he taps the pile, "are wing morale." Because you can TOTALLY trust that from K'vvan, "so far everyone seems more than willing to support whatever crazy ideas she has. Nothing," K'vvan pauses then adds, "YET, shows she is trying to undermine weyrleadership. She seems to really want this to work." Report laid out K'vvan pauses awkwardly, not quite sure where to go from there.

W'rin takes the two shifted charts, spinning them around so they are facing him. Studying the woman's two shift threadfall idea. The silence is long as he works through her designs, "More than is acceptable." The weyrleader grunts heaftily, his voice barely more than an grumble as his attention is mostly on what he is looking at. "Shut them down. Don't let them talk about her like that when you're around. You may have to find riders to be your ears. But you're a ranker now and they need to know you're on her side. And they'll take whatever load you and she damn well tell them they will." His finger jabs at something in the formation he doesn't explain but he looks up with a wry grin, "Even if your not. And in the meantime Hogback has some extra browns. Perhaps a shift is in order." And then he's back to what he was going before, his finger dragging across the parchment. It is the final statement that draws the giant head up to focus solely on K'vvan. "She can't undermine my leadership." As if it was simply an impossibility, rather than something the woman may or may not be plotting. "I just want to know if it is working. If it is …" He trails off as his eyebrow lifts at the chart, "…Which is may in perfect circumstances, perhaps remind her of Igen's wind?" Of course, its hard to forget with the summer storms. "If not I'll have to -" Whatever the consequence is he aburptly decides not to say, "The wing will return to bronze and brown leadership. And fast. We're running out of time. Anything else?"

W'rin has swiftly turned from the language K'vvan speaks to one known only by those actually born to leadership. He stands there just blinking like an idiot for a very long silent moment as he attempts to work out everything W'rin had said. "Uh, sure? I mean, No, I don't think so. More browns would be good, or some blues who have more stamina. We've been working in the wind quite a bit- and we're trying to find some ways for the smaller dragons to use the wind rather then fight against it." K'vvan shifts on his feet slightly again, his arms folded behind his back.

W'rin grins at the other male's shifting and shakes his head, "Say with some certaintity. You're their wingsecond. They will be looking to you for - assurance, during a fall." Stand firm man! The man offers only a chuckle at the idea of more blues and browns, see it is about the color. There is a deep nod, "Yes, that is good. But the formations used in strong winds don't provide the draft you're talking about for the smaller dragons." He makes a narrowing tunnel out of his hands to show what the bigger dragons produce for the smaller ones to fly in. "Between the three of you -" Supposing he means the leadership of the wing, "There should be at least one at all points in the flight." With a huff and shake of his head, "It may work. Still doesn't seem the best tactic. To lose a wingleader in the middle of a fall." The man huffs and scratches the side of his head. But then he could think about wing formation theory all day and be a very content man. But generally life won't let him do that.

K'vvan attempts to do some of that standing firmness, though his hands continue to fidget behind his back. "We'll be taking shifts, as Nadeeth still struggles with endurance. Those," K'vvan finally pulls out one figity hand, "Are yours. I've my own copies, as does she and N'cal. If you had suggestions on the wind problem…" K'vvan shrugs slightly. "Otherwise, we are working it out between the three of us. Uh," K'vvan manages to squash a feet shifting, "Anything else?"

W'rin nods, "Yes. An odd choice for a wingleadership that is already going to struggle with a flight. And sort of contrary to the very reason I said two wingseconds, but you and Nadeeth are good riders." His brows lift and his lifts his shoulders in a heavy shrug. The charts then, once offered, are taken and shoved into a neat enough stack. For now the man lifts a hand in a formal salute. "No, wingsecond. You are dismissed." And then after a short pause, facical features screwing up in thought, his hand falls and he inclines his head, "And, K'vvan. Thank you. For your service, to the weyr." His jaw sets, and without further need for conversation he head drops back down to the formation at the top of the stack, now is the time to settle in and study.

Clackity clackity clackity. The staccato beat of Sadaiya's sensible heels announce her arrival far before she pops her head in and says, "Hey! I heard voices!" Pause. "I mean, your voices, not like the ones that tell people to set fire to things." Squeezing her soft body through the open door, the movement reveals a rather stunning gown, replete with beads in gradient swirls around her body. Her hair is pinned up in a soft cloud with a pair of intricate, Tanmorand-made combs (best weyrmate EVER), but her face is still clean. Also, she carries a decent sized train case with a handle. "Hey, K'vvan. Weyrleader. You guys getting ready for the Keroon ball?" She wiggles her body at this in a small dancy-dancy motion.

Dismissal! At last. Some of the tension between K'vvan's shoulder bleeds out as W'rin dismisses him. He had turned away when W'rin interjects his last statement. He pauses, poised to leave not quite sure if he SHOULD respond to that. It is in this poised position that Least Favorite #1 enters the room in all of her glory. "Weyrwoman," trapped. "I'm not going."

The entrance of the weyrwoman has W'rin scuffing the floor with the bottom of his chair as he stands, a salute is snapped off, "Senior Weyrwoman." Despite the formal nature of the whole endeavor, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes deepen in the ways of a grin hidden by his facial hair. "Uh..yah. Sienna said something about black and silver matching anything so I wouldn't clash with either of you. In any event, she's letting me wear tights so I'm letting her do whatever she wants with the rest of it." A man can learn some new tricks. And sadly he has to go. Stupid knot.

One of Sadaiya's eyes flickers shut in the barest of winks as she returns W'rin's salute. "Oh, excellent. That'll work just fine. Are you going to be attending, K'vvan?" As of yet, she remains outwardly unaware of her notorious status, though the widening of her smile and glint in her eyes are awfully suspect. "I would love to see you dressed to the nines. You're an attractive young man."

K'vvan takes W'rin's interjection as correction, and manages to mumble "Senior weyrwoman," at Least Favorite #1, and she even gets a salute. Louder this time, "I will not be attending. Parties," and he says it almost to make it a swear word, "are not my thing. And I wouldn't have anything to wear." As soon as the last statement slips past his lips K'vvan scowls. "If you'll excuse me," He edges around the tiny gold rider intent on out.

W'rin's eyes might roll just a bit, she isn't supposed to be proddy any more - which should exclude hitting on, complimenting, or grinding up on anyone. Including greenriders. If there is one thing Igen doesn't have to deal with its the slutty behavior of Southern's goldriders. Okay. Maybe she isn't being that bad, and while W'rin was certainly just being his formal self he does offer a nod at K'vvan's choice of saluting. A meaty hand smacks against the weyrleader's face as the greenrider adds 'I wouldn't have clothes' to his list of excuses. He was so close to getting away too.

"Okay, at this rate I am pretty sure you don't even know what fun is, K'vvan," Sadaiya grouses, though she gives his slight form a quick, appraising once-over. Her expression turns almost professionally calculating. "Having something to wear isn't that much of a problem — I'm fairly certain I could find you something in the stores. Besides, you don't have to WEAR something to stand out, right W'rin? Here, c'mon, sit down." Letting her train case handle slide to her elbow, she reaches up with both hands to grab the beleaguered greenrider's shoulders and gently turn him around and give him a shove towards a chair. "Faranth, what I'd give for your hair."

"I know what fun, don't touch me!" K'vvan twitches away from the weyrwoman's touch as it is made of fire. "I don't need anything to wear because I'm not going. I have things, work, STUFF to do." He does, however, move towards the chair because well… she told him to. W'rin gets a 'please help' look.

W'rin would help but he's dutifully plopped himself back into his chair. "His hair?" His neatly buzzed cut gets a once over with his hand. It feels like there is less than there use to be. Damn the youthful. K'vvan gets a wide-eyed sympathetic look but there is little he can do for the boy now. "Sadaiya, you can't make him go." Was that good enough? The next look he gives is a 'sit-still-and-it-will-be-over-faster' one.

With a dismissive flap of her hand, Sadaiya slips her box off of her arm and plunks it down on the table. "Nonsense and also nonsense. It's for his own good. He can't lurk around Igen's shadows forever and glower at me." Hooking a chair with her foot, she pulls it closer and turns it to face the one she's propelled K'vvan towards. "Oh, leave off, greenrider, I'm not going to gives you cooties or anything. Now why would you not want to go to a swanky event, meet some nice people, eat expensive food fresh from the herdbeast?" Shifting slightly on one buttcheek, she reaches over to flick open the latch on her case and push up the top to reveal a small, polished mirror (or Pernese equivalent) and several, smaller boxes and tubes along with the odd comb and hairpin. "Honestly, I worry about you being so…so tetchy!"

It is W'rin's turn to dismiss the woman's words with a flock of his wrist, hey mimicing is the highest form of flattery. Or something. "Look, Sadaiya. I've tried. The most fun I've ever gotten him to have is almost getting eaten by a feline.

K'vvan is sitting, though his posture remains as stiff as a board. "I don't see why I would want to go prance around when there id stuff to ne done right here," he manages through clenched teeth. "I," abruptly he shuts up, biting back the rest of his comments.

It is W'rin's turn to dismiss the woman's words with a flock of his wrist, hey mimicing is the highest form of flattery. Or something. "Look, Sadaiya. I've tried. The most fun I've ever gotten him to have is almost getting eaten by a feline." The other man is shot a look, and a sigh. "Look. If whatever you do to him gets him so wound up it affects his riding - I'll hold you accountable." And the greenrider gets wound up easily. His jaw clenches slightly, a last ditch effort to save the wingrider. "Sadaiya, go easy on him. Not everyone is as social as you, and ain't no harm in that. I wouldn't even go if I wasn't bound by duty..and Sienna."

A sigh heaves Sadaiya's chest, and she looks frustrated. "Okay. We want the holds to like us." She carefully doesn't look at W'rin at this point. "And what helps that is if they know us personally, or feel like they do. What happens then is that they're more easy to work with, and the tithes tend to be better. When the tithes are better, the weyr has more resources to support its people. Which, with thread coming, is doubly important." She shrugs slightly and smiles in a sort of lopsided, sheepish manner. "It seems frivolous because it is, but the places that support us REMEMBER frivolous, and remember things like, say, the time a bluerider came to their hold from whatever weyr and was very polite and kind."

K'vvan remains quite suspiciously silent as Sadaiya lectures… him or A'rin? He isn't quite sure which of them that is directed towards. Finally a quiet "but…" before his lips snap shut again. Conflict is writ firmly in his dark green eyes.

W'rin holds his hands up in front of in a plea of innocence, he's going he doesn't need the lecture. "Its true. Sadly. The sheer logic of it all doesn't seem to quite sustain their little br…" The man cuts himself off in much the same way K'vvan does and simply sinks into his chair. This time it is turn to loll his head to one side and give the greenrider a 'please come so I'm not alone' look.

Sadaiya nods, turning her head slightly to give W'rin a supportive smile. "Duty should be all we need, in an ideal world, but growing up I definitely noticed my parents noticing folks who stood out," And she gestures at her gown, then her makeup, "Or the ones who made the most effort to take an interest in their affairs — as W'rin was about to say, their brains APPEAR little with their lives being so different." Another grin at W'rin, this time toothier. "It's easy to fake it after awhile, especially if your memory is good. So we go to Keroon, make much of this year's runners, place a few wagers on a race, dance with them, compliment their food and you're done." She reaches over to affectionately pat K'vvan's shoulder, but retracts her hand before it makes contact. "And please don't take offense, but you REALLY need to work on faking it if you can barely talk to me, your Weyrwoman, without being snarky."

Doesn't matter that the weyrwoman didn't quite make contact, K'vvan is still flinching backwards away from the hand. "I don't nee…" again he shuts his mouth shut, this time scowling. "FINE!" His eyes aren't directed at W'rin or at Sadayia, instead he's looking upwards at the corner of the room. "If I punch someone… this is all your fault." THIS K'vvan directs right at Sadaiya. "For putting the idea in her head."

W'rin huffs, "I am not against fun, or making friends, Sadaiya. But who dresses the nicest, shakes the most hands, and makes the best small talk - rather than perhaps our ability to fly and fight thread for them isn't really the best form of government decision making." Lifting himself by pressing his hands against the arm of the chair with a grunt of exercsion against gravity. "So no, their brains may not actually be small. But I'll deal with the stress. In this room. With a few snarky comments of my own, so I don't accidently say it front of them." With a cock of his eyebrow apologetically at K'vvan the man stomps out of the room. "Stick by me K'vvan. I'll punch 'em instead." This however is given with a wink at Sadaiya. He's joking. Hopefully.

"I completely agree, but it's not like I made the system. Besides, it's not that hard to go somewhere for a couple hours, say a few words, ask about a few things that they seem to care about, then head back." As K'vvan looks away and W'rin makes his punching comment, Sadaiya snorts out a laugh. "If either of you punch anyone…well, K'vvan, you'd get water rations, and W'rin, I'll tell Sienna. Now, scootch closer. Let me help you get ready. I have this idea for a couple braids down the side of your head and put back with the rest in the ponytail and this, like, design up the side of your face that will highlight your eyes. Believe me, you won't have to even open your mouth to make an impression. The hold daughters that show up from everywhere will all be tripping over each other to swoon over you. Anyway, I'll do the talking for both of you. It's sort of my thing."

… "You have got to be f*king kidding me." Any mirth that may have entered K'vvan's voice is sapped quickly as he puts the full gaze of his green eyes on the Weyrwoman. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you touch me." He looks over at W'rin for some moral support.

W'rin can only be heard grumbling about holds and gathers and having to be nice as he rumbles down the hallway and towards his weyr to get ready.

Damage Report:
1. Braided Hair.
2. Eyeliner. Thick.
3. Small red hearts at the corner of each eye.
4. Pink lips.
Sadaiya is SO #1 on Least Favorite List Forever.

Add a New Comment