Who

Va'os, K'vvan

What

K'vvan's pretending he's not upset to lose his wingsecond and deflects with a different complaint and Va'os… wins.

When

It is sunset of the sixteenth day of the fifth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lower Bowl

OOC Date 04 Nov 2017 06:00

 

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"Get. Me. A. Fucking. Bronzerider."


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Lower Bowl

The graceful sweep of spacious bowl lies scoured clean by an easterly breeze. Detritus is whisked neat to the eastern steppe of the bowl that lies several feet lower than the western plateau. White walls contrast the rough granite of the rivercliffs: the giant maw of the Hatching Cavern lies in the thickest part of the western wall, sheltering the training grounds and weyrling barracks lying nor'west. Directly north lies the leadership courtyard, heavily humid and subtly scented by intrigue.


Sunset finds the upper bowl in the final throws of activity before full nightfall. Drills must have just ended, as dragons land for their riders to dismount and go about the usual routines. Typical of autumn too, it's pissed rain most of the day and a drizzle is still falling to make everything just that much more delightfully soggy (and cold). Va'os is doing his best to ignore the autumn chill and the fact that he's thoroughly soaked now; he was either a part of those drills or overseeing the tail end of it. Regardless, the Weyrleader is doing his best to keep a patient tone even if he wants nothing more than to high tail it somewhere warm.

K'vvan has his grumpy face on. His grumpy face is due to something the new Weyrleader just did. But he's learned, AT LEAST A LITTLE, to not start the conversation by yelling. Instead Va'os gets a stiff, "Weyrleader Va'os." Formality just sounds stilted. "May I have a /moment of your time?" Yup, he's angry. The words are coming out through his teeth.

Hold on K'vvan! Va'os is busy, don't you see? Taking his sweet, sweet ass time finishing up some talk with another Wingrider (that's gotta sting). It's only after he's formally dismissed the rider that he turns and, probably signing his death with a half smirked grin. "Wingleader K'vvan!" Yeah, two can play that game. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he'll gesture with a tilt of his head. Walk? At least out of the worst of the wind and drizzle and to the side away from traffic. "Let me guess?" Gonna cut to the chase, here. "This moment have anything to do with our newest Weyrsecond?"

Fuck Va'os' busy, but K'vvan is TRYING TO KEEP THIS POLITE OKAY. So he's holding his words in until they're out of sight. "What the fuck. You're just going to fucking shift D'wane out of Ocelot and then not give me shit to replace him?" Yes, it's losing Rocketh's place in his wing that K'vvan is upset about. Not about, like, losing his wingsecond. That might sound like K'vvan was ~fond~ of the large man. "And not just fucking anyone, D'wane was the fucking guard liaison with my wing. Not just anyone has that fucking connection."

Va'os just stares K'vvan down (literally) as the greenrider goes off on him. Thankfully most folk have moved on and the drizzling rain and winds will ruin a chance of a crowd gathering to gawk. Natural muffling on the conversation too! Unless… yelling starts. Which it hasn't yet! Va'os looks like he's torn between another grin (bad idea) or outright laughing (very bad idea). It makes for him struggling to keep his composure, but he sobers up quick enough. "Listen," he exhales heavily. "I get it that you're pissed off." Understatement. "And I'll admit it, I kind of did the shitty thing of going behind your back but…" He just gestures to K'vvan. Case in point? Volatile temper. And Va'os wanted D'wane, so too bad. "R'zel is more than capable as a Wingsecond." And maybe Va'os wasn't thinking about guard liaison connections.

"Fuck him as wingsecond," K'vvan says hotly, "I need Rocketh on fucking top flight. You know, so we can get that shit before it falls on your mid-flight ass?" Just in case Va'os forgot that it was the top flight who hits thread first. "We're not dancing here about my sharding leadership but because you fucking left my wing short handed. That's why you sharding talk to the wingleaders in question, so that shit doesn't happen."

"Oh now that's just unfair," Va'os may not know R'zel well, but that was COLD K'vvan! But they're not here to talk about them. Shoulders hunched as they are against the cold and his hands still in his pockets, the Weyrleader looks "relaxed", but there's tension in the lines of his expression and that grin is starting to fade. "D'wane accepted the position. It was made official earlier this morning! I jumped the gate, I'm gonna admit that much but what more do you want me to do, K'vvan? Done is done."

"Get. Me. A. Fucking. Bronzerider." See how quickly K'vvan jumps on the opening? "Or at least a sharding brownrider. You may be," But K'vvan manages to cut himself off and takes in a pair of deep breaths. Arms cross on his chest and the greenrider is pulling his temper in check by mental fingernails. "Even if you give me someone on loan, I don't sharding care. I need that hole filled and you're the only one who can make that shit happen. Thread falls too soon."

Va'os stares at K'vvan for an incredulous moment. Really? That's it? "I may be what?" Come on, man! Don't leave him hanging. Another heavy exhale and he'll briefly scratch at the inside of the bridge of his nose. Give him a second here, okay? "You want a bronzerider?" Why does he sound like he's placating a child? "Have Zl'an, then! Bastard's been mopey as fuck and maybe putting him under you will get him out of his rut." Or gunning for K'vvan's position. Who the hell knows?

THAT is enough to stop K'vvan right in the middle of a breath as he stares at Va'os. He asked for a bronzerider. Va'os is offering up a bronzerider. K'vvan doesn't have a single place to object to this. "If that bitch complains about shit I reserve the right to punch him in his fucking face." The balled hands are a hint about K'vvan's feeling towards Zl'an.

Careful what you ask for from Va'os in the future, K'vvan! He IS an asshole, at (all) times. At least he doesn't gloat over putting the greenrider in an awkward spot. "He's gonna be your rider! Punch him at will. Just realize I'm probably gonna have to hear about it, so…" Make it a good one, please? "So it's settled then? I poached from you," Hey, he's upfront about it! "And now you get one of mine." K'vvan, just be thankful he didn't hand you B'ly. "And if I have plans to dip into the Wings again? We'll talk." He probably means ALL the Wingleaders, but.

The rain is probably hiding the sound of K'vvan's teeth grinding together. "Fine. Tell D'wane," yes, K'vvan is going to be a teenage girl about this and make Va'os transfer the message, "to get all the shit together he was doing with the guards and get it to me since I'll have to fucking take that over." Till K'vvan can find someone else to take it. It's possible the guards Ocelot has to work with aren't gonna be happy with this change either. WELCOME TO SOUTHERN VA'OS.

Va'os and Guards never got along to begin with, so him burning bridges with the Southern ones won't be anything new! He does his best not to roll his eyes and scoff for being K'vvan's messenger, but he will be a dick about it. "Can't have Nadeeth relay that? It'd be faster." He's not gonna play ball! "I already told D'wane that if he needs time to settle things to take it." SO THERE YOU GO. "You talk to him." Sorry, D'wane. "And settle things."

K'vvan's just going to shoot back, "I'm not his fucking boss any more." That's YOU VA'OS.

"It's Ocelot business!" Va'os is gonna toss it right back to K'vvan, along with a not-so friendly grin.

K'vvan chooses his next words oh-so-carefully before, "Fuck you." HI VA'OS, YES THIS IS ONE OF YOUR WINGLEADERS. K'vvan's going to get his ass demoted eventually. "Sir." See, that makes it polite right!? Turning on his heel K'vvan is going to just stalk away from the weyrleader before he can say ANYTHING ELSE.

Not tonight he won't! Maybe Va'os doesn't care how much K'vvan swears because it's just words. It'd be another matter if he'd done this, say… in the middle of dinner in the caverns where EVERYONE and their uncle could see shit go down. A spat during a tete a tete? Pfft. "Enjoy your evening, K'vvan." Which is basically a fuck you too right back! He'll wait until K'vvan is well and truly gone before shaking his head and exhaling gustily. "Well, that could've been worse." He's probably talking to Tsiroth, out loud. Maybe. Hopefully? Who knows. But the Weyrleader is OUT and going to go warm up somewhere.

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