Thierry, Tuli


Thierry reports to Tuli, as requested. It's not what he expected.


It is evening of the tenth day of the third month of the first turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr Galleries

OOC Date


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Though occasionally cleaned by ambitious (or neurotic) drudges or weyrbrats being disciplined, the lack of Eggs over the last several Turns has led to the Galleries falling into a state of disrepair. Sand can be found…well, everywhere. On the benches, under the benches, on the railings and walkways. There is also the random tidbit leftover from people who've wandered into the gathering place since the last cleaning. A random bit of cloth here, a bit of something that might have been a carving-in-progress once there.

It's hard truth in a goldrider's existence: Sandsitting is on the same excitement level as watching paint dry. Elicheritath is out there, her great glimmering wings casting a protective shield over the majority of the clutch, leaving a paltry few uncovered and viewable. Tuli, however, has decamped for the Galleries, where she's taken up an entire row of benches for mounds of hidework. She's doing an audit on one of the Weyr ledgers, evidently. It's just EXHILARATING.

It's /daunting/, getting your first view of the Sands when there's not only an Elicheritath, but a Tuli waiting there for you. Thierry, looking neat in his uniform and fiddling with a teaspoon that he plays with in his fingers before sticking it between his teeth, leans up against one of the walls on the entryway so he can just take it all in. He's there for a while, arms crossed, expression thoughtful; probably getting up the balls to go for the meeting of /doom/. When he decides there's no point in further delaying the inevitable, he turns to quick-march up to the first tier of the galleries, waiting at ease, just within Tuli's vision, for her to call him forth. He's not approaching unless he's /asked/.

"Yes, hello, just a second." Tuli doesn't look up, nor make any visual sign of actually seeing Thierry - but Elicheritath is gazing in their direction, her eyes slow-whirling so no doubt it's the gold playing watchdog here. The gold shifts a single wing a subtle length, just enough to throw forth an odd insectoid sound, bbsssZT, which draws across the nerves. Finally Tuli looks up from her work - and impatiently gestures the boy over. "There you are. Guard Recruit Thierry." She eyes him, silently, for a long pause. Abruptly: "How are you enjoying the Guards?"

That teaspoon's still caught up in his fingers as Thierry approaches, wiggled back and forth like a nervous tick - or a surrogate toke, perhaps. From the way his dark-eyed gaze flickers from gold to goldrider he's not quite sure which presents the bigger threat; though he eventually settles on Tuli. She's /right/ there, after all. He stands stiff and at ease, hands clasped behind him (though the pat-pat-pat of that teaspoon hitting his clothing can be heard), looking straight ahead into the distance. "Weyrwoman Tuli." Nope, not looking. He keeps a straight face, staring at nothing. "The guard's alright, ma'am." Pause. Breathe. Continue. "Kinda liking it, actually."

"Good." Maybe it's just as well Thierry isn't looking at her, because the glimmer of entertainment that flickers across Tuli's face could hardly do favors for his teenage dignity. At least she keeps the humor out of her VOICE, which stays solemn, businesslike. "Very good. I asked the Guard Captain for a report about you." She just lets that HANG THERE. A moment of silence passes, during which Elicheritath moves in an eerie bubble of noiseless to inspect one of her offspring. And then Tuli says mildly, conversationally: "I have a job for you."

PatpatpatpatPATpatPATpat. That spoon hits his tunic behind his back faster, a soft, quiet giveaway of Thierry's nerves while he manages to keep a pretty good poker face. A report? He looks so-quickly at Tuli when she says that, quickly flicking his gaze back up and into the distance. "Yes ma'am." Because he needs to say /something/ in that silence! And his voice doesn't waver all that much, either… just a little. Just enough to give away how he's feeling, perhaps. Then… "Job, ma'am?" /That/ has him biting his lip, a slight tightening to his features, from the clenching of his jaw to the /hint/ of a frown on his brow, betraying how uneasy he really it. PatpatPATpatpat.

"Well," says Tuli, quite amicably, "you're totally fucking terrified of me," the note of cheer in her voice does not waver in the SLIGHTEST, "as, of course, is entirely merited" She actually smiles at him, here, quite nicely. In context, this may or may not help. "So I was thinking, you know. We have all these newcomers being brought into the Weyr, right? And some of them are Nowtimers like yourself, lads and lasses who aren't quite familiar with how things work in Igen." I.E., they're used to the Weyr being a morass of suck. "And I could make time to terrify all of them individually into a right and proper respect, but honestly I've got other things to do with my time, and Elicheritath doesn't like being left alone that much, you know? SO." She smiles again here, but it has a lot of teeth to it, and is not very nice at all :( "So. I was wondering if you could, hm. Do me a favor and help me make sure there's a proper level of… let's call it awareness…. that I am not a woman with whom trifling is a good idea." She's fishing for something in her pocket. What, though, is not yet evident.

"Just trying not to get my ass kicked outta here, ma'am." Thierry keeps staring straight ahead, looking where it's /safe/. But he's listening, too, even if he does twitch a little at the suggestion that he's terrified. There's a tic that starts in his cheek, replacing the patpatpat of the spoon he's still playing with behind his back. The goldrider's proposition is surprising enough that it shows on his face that he wasn't expecting it; his frown deepens, lips drawn suspiciously tight as he gives a sharp nod. Best just to agree, right? "Awareness. Right." He mightn't sound entirely convinced, but he's at least attempting to maintain the professional guardy-charade.

"And you understand that I have the full power to determine whether you go or stay. Excellent." Tuli seems content with his response, however weirded out he might be in delivering it. "Here. Catch." Something small and white and not terribly aerodynamic is fished forth, and thrown casually at him. Only after he has it does she continue, cool and collected: "Of course, it's up to you if you want to Stand. It's up to you to know whether you have it in you to face Thread - and whether you've learnt the discipline to not get your ass kicked out." Idly she adds, a thoughtful aside, possibly more to Elicheritath Ever Watching than to Thierry himself: "The only problem with this is, I'm totally out of horrible ways to suddenly change your life every time we meet, now - and it was kind of getting to be a trend."

A quick but awkward lunge has Thierry just capturing the white missile before it drops out of reach, snapping it out of the air and closing his fist around it. He pops his teaspoon into his mouth, holding the white thing up with both hands, delicately between thumb and forefinger, confused for a moment… until he realises where he is. What's on the Sands beside him. What he's just been /asked/… sort of. "Fuck." He has to speak through clenched teeth, around the spoon. There's surprisethere, looking from the knot to Tuli as it sinks in. The knot's curled back into his fist, tucked away into his pocket; the spoon's pulled from his mouth to be wiggled back and forth between fore- and middle finger. "Gonna take it," he says, digging about in his knot-filled pocket to pull something out in return - a little drawstring pouch. "'Cos there's no fucking thread gettin' into this Weyr on my watch, weyrwoman. Already got my name down for groundcrewin' when it comes /here/. Mebbe do better at it up /there/." He looks skyward, with a little jerk of his head. "Gotcha something here, anyway." The little pouch is dangled by its string, then gently tossed to Tuli. "You wanted entertainment, yeah?"

"Good. Good." Tuli is serene. "Nothing would make me happier than to see you make a useful man out of yourself, you little dumbshit." It would be a stretch to say she says this affectionately, but there's an air of ratcheted back disapproval in how she adds, "Exiling someone's a shitload of hidework, you've got no idea." The pouch is deftly caught, and the weyrwoman weighs it a moment before opening, her eyebrows lifting as she drawls, "Lemme guess…" The contents are spilled out into her waiting palm, and prove to be, "dice." Tuli's mouth twitches, as she echoes a far-earlier conversation: "What are the chances these dice aren't rigged?"

"And ain't nobody got time for /that/." For hidework, of course. Thierry snorts, digging both hands into his pockets and watching as Tuli reveals his little present. As for her question? He smirks. "Dunno, ma'am. Mebbe that's the entertainment, figuring out how to work 'em." Now that he knows he's not about to suffer terribly or be booted from his him, the recruit's certainly more relaxed. "There's a couple games you can play. Or mebbe you'll keep them for deciding what way to send someone's life in next, huh? Nothing like a roll of the dice for /that/." And doesn't he know it?

"Remind me to confiscate all your pairs of these things," mutters Tuli, though it's anyone's bet how serious the threat is. The dice are eyed, then tucked away. The goldrider flicks a hand towards the exits. "Away with you!" Shoo, shoo! "Go fetch whatever you need from your home, and get someone to install you in the barracks. While I," regretfully, "get back to work." Though, an afterthought: "Don't fuck this up, kid."

Audience over, Thierry nods sharply - smugly, too, to a degree, as he clicks his heels together, standing straighter and to attention. "Yes ma'am. Will do, ma'am." While he's sharp about it, it would be a whole lot more professional if he weren't still smirking, like the feline who got the cream. "Don'tchoo worry, weyrwoman. I'm not fucking anything up." He fires off a salute, then turns to trot on out of there - a trot that turns to a swagger once he thinks he's beyond Tuli's line of sight.

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