==== February 10th 2014
==== B'ruka, Lisette
==== B'ruka and Lisette have a run in.

Who B'ruka, Lisette
What B'ruka and Lisette have a run in.
When It is evening of the seventh day of the first month of the first turn of the 12th pass.
Where Hallway

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A connection between the bowels of the weyr and the heart of the leadership, this hallway sweeps along a majority section of the inner section of the weyr: the residential quarters. Glows light the way, but little adorn the rough-hewn walls. It is a place of transition, not a place to linger.

It's not a place to linger, no. This is the hallway that leads the way to a great many other passageways that are more important than itself. For Lisette, it's the path from Nora's office to somewhere else right now. She slips out from the headwoman's quarters, closing the door quietly behind her. It's been sometime since she's been sighted in the laundries and rumor would have it she's been terminated from that job as well. Now she's an errand girl that spends an inordinate amount of time in the library or down by the harper's quarters. That could be where she's off to now, a small slate board tucked under one arm and a sheaf of pages tied to it.

Nobody has any business being in this particular hallway unless they're on their way from one place to another. Understandably then, it gets its fair share of traffic. It shouldn't be too terribly strange to find B'ruka someplace like this, except it often is very strange to find him anywhere, really. Maybe it's because he's always dressed too well to just be anywhere. That shirt is for a proper dinner, not a dusty walk through the bowl. And those shoes shine too brightly to be just for walking down an already well-trodden path through the caverns, now, but there he is all the same. It doesn't take him long to run into Lisette. Literally, he's going to run into her if she doesn't move, those blind bends in the tunnels are dangerous.

Unfortunately we can't all be on our way to fabulous feasts and meetings, sometimes a person is just on their way to dinner in the living cavern. Maybe that's where B'ruka's going right now! Lisette seems distracted as she re-arranges the items that are in her arms, keeping them protectively pressed against her mid-section. She doesn't notice the well dressed man at all. So they'll barrel head on into one another in the dangerous, twisty tunnel. The former laundry girl hits the floor, dropping her pencil but not losing the other precious tools of study. Unfortunately this just means she hits her knees to the stone extra hard and takes a forearm to the ground as well. "Oh fuck." She winces, grits her teeth and hisses through the initial wave of boney leg to hard surface impact.

And B'ruka, well. He doesn't really budge, does he. Sure, there's the initial sound of muted surprise, something like 'mmph', but it isn't like he's going down for the count or anything. Mostly he just backsteps quickly, wanting very badly to get away from whoever he just ran into. At first he looks very strange, is that… is that an apology surfacing? Unfortunately it never gets its time in the sun because he realizes who it is there on the floor and what might have been something close to human hardens and the corners of his mouth turn down. "You," he states blandly, with no small amount of distaste.

To her credit she doesn't spend a lot of time down there. Just enough to assess the damage and get back to her feet. She'd go after that pencil, but… she's realizing just who B'ruka is at the same she's noticing it roll away down the hallway. Lisette's eyes narrow onto the rider, thoughtful. Contemplative. "Nope." Maybe she's learning to pick her battles. Maybe all of his underclothes being systematically replaced with women's lingerie is part of the reason she got removed from the laundry position. Without further delay, she'll duck past him to make a hasty escape.

Nope? Nope? B'ruka is actually caught offguard by that response, and if his brow wasn't already severely creased it would be now. His pause is enough to give her a chance at escaping but that's all she gets, a chance, before his long arm swings out to block her way, a rope to catch her or at the very least hold her up. "Not so fast."
That was probably expected on some level. His long arms do manage to find their way in front of her in the narrow passage and she knocks into them, a little too tall for her own good here. It's not so easy to try and go underneath with an armfull of stuff.
Lisette sighs and rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, her foot tapping on the floor. "I don't have all day here." That's nice.

"I know, you must be very busy," B'ruka replies dryly, looking down the bridge of his nose at her, like he might think she's… lesser. Not that his voice suggests anything of the sort, so maybe it's just his stare. "Less busy than before. Or at least not busy doing the same things. Laundry shennanigans, hm?" With every confidence in her to get what he means without an explanation, he adds, "We have a score to settle."

"I'm glad that you realize that!" Whether B'ruka is being genuine or not doesn't seem to factor into her response. She'll take it at face value in order to fabricate her next, "Very busy these days. Different department. No more laundry." Lisette holds up her little slate board, the papers. "Speaking of which. I have an appointment to make. You know, where you meet another person that's waiting for you." So if he kills her here in this hallway, someone will notice she's missing. "I'm sure you can do your score settling mathematical equations with someone else. Sounds complicated. Riash down the hall loves algebra. Gotta go." And squeezing past him slowly.

While she's trying to squeeze past he's looking up at the ceiling, enduring and predictably not moving. It's a long moment of that before he's apparently had enough and grabs that slate board from her with one hand, passing it to the other and holding it aloft. "What makes you think you wouldn't make it to this appointment. You'll get there. You have my word."

"I never said I wouldn't make it to the appointment. But you just inferred that I might think that I'm not going to make it there. Which means you think that I think that you would stop me. So that means you'd stop me." …It does? Well, possibly. To Lisette perhaps. And she does look rather triumphant in that assessment until that is, he grabs her slate board and holds it away from her. That garners a bit of genuine emotion and lets her arms fall to her sides, frustrated annoyance seeping through. "Give it back." Please? Yeah, no please.

"Inferred, oh there's a big word." Because someone who would steal something from someone else and play monkey in the middle (sort of) is not above vague insults. "I am stopping you. So infer away. Look, you're stopped." The grin he gives her for her demand isn't at all kind, but the question that follows is? It might be unsettling. He also does not give it back at all. "How's your knee."

"I'm probably going to die." Lisette pauses for effect here, looking utterly serious. "I need that. Give it back to me."

Whether or not she's being truly serious, B'ruka pauses at that statement as well, though for different reasons. Did his eyes just soften a little? Couldn't be, it must be the light, or lack of light. "Very well," he murmurs gently, his hand dropping to offer her possession back to her. "Your precious," is added, no small amount of condescension in his voice.

Her expression doesn't display much in the way of how she feels about the condescension, but then again she doesn't come across as someone who emotes a lot of genuine emotion to begin with. His hand drops to offer the slate board back to her and Lisette extends her own, cautiously wrapping her fingers around the edge and pulling it back in towards her. "Thanks."
Whether she was expecting it or not, B'ruka allows her the board back without incident, pulling his hand back slowly. No sudden moves. And, since she isn't bolting for the nearest gap of escape, he also says, "Now I know what it feels like to have my hands on your things." Except slate vs underwear, not exactly the same thing.

"…" That's the sound of nothing as she opens her mouth and then closes it again. Lisette's eyes dart from the slate to his crotch. And then slowly back up to his face. One eyebrow just slowly raises. Does he realize they're not exactly the same thing?
Once she's come back up, she'll have his own lifted eyebrow to deal with. "Really now," could be a scolding of sorts, though there's no real intent behind it. "I could leave less to the imagination if you'd prefer." Which wouldn't be so bad by itself, but then he drops one hand to his belt.

This is probably the wrong person to bluff with. Lisette just gestures with her slate board towards Nora's office down the hallway. "Sure. Be my guest." If he wants to drop his pants here, she's not going to get in his way. But she's probably assuming he won't do it, by the way her mouth curls up in amusement at the corners.

There's a moment there where B'ruka might actually be considering following through with this weird game of chicken, his hand hovering where it roamed… but suddenly he grins and this time it's a real one, bringing life to his face. Both hands come up in surrender. "You're crazy, girl," he tells her, backing up a step or two.

The hint of a smile remains as her mouth tugs to the side, 'expectant' for this strip show that is supposedly about to happen. When it doesn't materialize, she laughs and shakes her head. "I'm not the one who wants to expose themselves in public. Bad bronzerider." She shakes the slate board at him and then turns, presumably heading to the appointment she was trying to originally get to.

Leaving him there in the hallway, his grin fading simply by expiration, nothing in particular the cause of its departure. He allows her to go this time, no long arms come to trap her, but he does say, "We'll have to do this again sometime." And if that's a devilish glint in his eye, well, hopefully she can excuse him.

"Mhmm. You'll have to get in line." Lisette's smile is a smirk, amused but indulgent as she makes her exit passed his arms. For now, freedom.

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