Mayte, K'vvan, and W'rin


K'vvan is not entirely happy with Mayte's Candidacy. Fortunately, W'rin steps in before there is any ruckus.


25th 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.

Avast! There be eggs! Down there, in the general direction of the sands. K'vvan leans against the railing of the galleries, one foot on the ground the other helping him do the full body lean. His eys weave among the multi-coloured sensation. "Seriously. Do all Southern bronze's make eggs that sparkle? It's not natural…" But his voice is a very very quiet mutter. Just in case Tuli is in hearing distance.

And where there be eggs, there be Candidates - they come and go through the galleries, but Mayte sneaks in separate from the rest of them, hands clasped around some klah as she moves carefully down, so as not to spill, the stairs to as close as she dares to the front. Seat? Taken. Klah? Sipped. K'vvan? Noted: "Hey, Wingsecond K'vvan," she greets. It's getting easier to remember, "How are you and Nadeeth? Seems like Turns…" Turns, what? Mayte clamps down on her mug and looks up with a grin curling at her mouth.

K'vvan hears the steps and is about to beat a swift retreat when… "Mayte." He turns, that frown alll over his face, so that he can lean his back against the railing. That foot actually goes up to sit on the chair before him. "It's only been… three sevendays?" Since she was like, almost RIGHT THERE, and he was almost right here and she was given that white knot.

Frowny K'vvan is hardly new to Mayte, but she takes a moment to study that look. "I know," is her response finally, "But I've been so busy. Up by dawn, running, chores, classes…" The items flick off in time with the fingers on one hand. "I don't even know how the store is doing right now - I keep meaning to stop by, but then I want to sleep." Eyes flick out to the eggs, and the subject gets changed: "Got a favourite out there?" Mayte asks, eyes tracing over each curved shell for a moment.

"They keep candidates hopping don't they." It isn't really a question, with K'vvan's tone completely flat as the words roll out. Those arms cross across his chest as he eyes that white knot upon her shoulder. "You could have said no. I'm sure those fluffbrain apprentices are probably screwing everything up."

Mayte grins and nods shortly, "They do. It's getting kinda fun, you know? It's totally different from wine, but some of it is really interesting." As for refusing the knot, the Candidate snickers a little, "I was sort of in front of everyone, would have been hard to say no in front of the clutch dam." Mayte's eyes widen with realization and she stands to make a bow to the Sands. "Crap, I forgot," she hisses to K'vvan, "They told us to bow to the Queen every time, and I shardin' forgot!" Panic over, though, and Mayte sinks back into her seat, taking a moment to regroup and say, "Pfft, they need to learn how to do it without me sometime. Eollyn can yell at them again now." Under the cheerful note, Mayte's eyes are a little tight at the corners, but still: "Besides, this time I get to see what being a Candidate is really all about."

K'vvan just keeps his back to the sand, watching mutely as Mayte does her mild freak out. He'll be the Russian Judge and give it a 4. "So chores…. chores… with a whole lot of waiting for eggs to rock. And you don't even get to drink." He raises an eyebrow at that, it's his only trump card.

And since K'vvan is the champion of cursory respectful moves, Mayte will just have to accept it, just as her tone is blithe in return: "It's different," she repeats, though the mention of her usual diet gets a grimace: "The wine… I miss it, but I'm sleeping a bit better, so," the free hand and the mug wave in counter-balance to each other, "with the exercise, I'm fitter than ever." Cheerful Mayte is possibly grating Mayte. "And it's good to be in practice because I heard Weyrlings can't have alcohol either for the first Turn either." And yes, that might be a little gleam in Mayte's eye as her eye cants out over the Sands once more. "Can Nadeeth tell what colour is in each egg?"

The scowl deepens as Cheerful Mayte totally crosses the line into annoying. "You shouldn't count on anything. I stood twice before impressing." At her question though, he turns to cast a gaze back onto the sands. "No. Though that one," he points at the SPARKLY WHITE one tucked off to a side, "I'm betting is a green."

"And I Stood once, already," Mayte replies with only a little heat, "I know that I can't count on Impressing this time." She follows K'vvan's finger to the white one and ooohs, "It's pretty. And a green would be nice." Mayte stands and moves to the railing as well, looking over and indicates the black, menacing one: "I bet that has a brown in it. Or a bronze." Hushed, but excited, "That'd be impressive." Now watch as it hatches the unbronziest green ever. "Y'know, all the girls are looking at the gold egg. I kinda feel sorry for the other eggs, like anything that hatches from them would be just as worthy, right?" Fiddling with her hands, Mayte laces them loosely together, klah mug forgotten by her seat.

STARE. K'vvan's eyes are no longer on the SPARKLLY eggs, but latched onto Mayte. "Girls don't impress BRONZE." His voice even gets slightly squeeky there at the end as bronze gets pushed out. "Those are. I mean," a WOMAN Weyrleader. Please kill him now. Some of this pain may translate across his face in the form of widened eyes and crinkled brow.

The manpain K'vvan is emitting draws a startled look from the Candidate: "Well, they never have…" Mayte quiets for a moment, but just a moment. Anyways, "Girls can still Impress browns, blues, and greens," she finishes sedately, then adds, "in addition to gold." The gold egg, pride and prize of the dam's clutch gets a fascinated look too.

Manpain? NEVER. "They won't." K'vvan has to have some man-only professions left. Since the women are invading everywhere else "Yes. The gold egg." His scowl actually manages to lesson, just a bit. "Greens aren't too bad." He shrugs as he admits it.
Mayte gives K'vvan a sidelong grin, "Greens are very nice," she replies, "It's like they can almost do it all. Well," a pause and Mayte nods to the Sands; everything but that, but she looks apologetic after. "S'good for Igen to have a gold egg, though," Mayte acknowledges, "Everyone's really excited for it." Dark hair tilts curiously, "Are you?" Is K'vvan ever really excited about anything? Mayte looks just a wee bit doubtful.

"Well, Nadeeth can." Pride sneaks into his voice finally at that, he does love his lifemate. "It is…. it seems like all the news has been bad. Even after two clutches with zero accidents," K'vvan shrugs and leans over the railing. "I don't want you to stand on those sands."

Mayte's mouth tightens at K'vvan's last, her shoulders stiffening: "You don't want me to even Stand if there's a gold egg on the Sands? I thought that'd be enough for you to be okay with it." The Candidate turns to the Wingsecond, scowling, "You just don't want me to change, right? Stay the same little vintner apprentice you met?" Impossibly, something catches Mayte's eye on the Sands and she pauses, mid-gearing up for what would otherwise be a spectacular rant, instead saying through pursed lips, "My apologies for taking your time, Wingsecond." Since it's never good for a white knot to sass any other kind of knot, Mayte's finally opted for stiff politeness as she steps back from the railing. She doesn't turn to leave just yet, though.

People getting mad, K'vvan is suddenly on firm ground again. "F*ck that Mayte." He pushes away from his own semi-relaxed posisition to step towards her, totally getting into her personal space, though he doesn't touch. A sleeve is rolled up to show a black threadscore that curls it's away across the wrist up to his elbow. "I don't want you to die. And don't give me the bullsh*it that you could die in the Bazaar. At least if that happened I could f*king hunt down and kill them back."

Dark eyes flashing, Mayte doesn't step back when K'vvan is suddenly in her face; instead her hands draw up to clench around her hips, possibly to avoid curling into fists. "I could die in the Bazaar. I could trip and hit my head. I could catch cold. You gonna say I can't go out in the rain then?" The final offer of revenge-death gets a snort from Mayte: "I don't want you to go kill someone!" Her voice rises a little, even though she tries to calm it down, "There are rules about that!" A cough from nearby gets a glower from Mayte before she looks back at K'vvan. The pair stand nose-to-chest in usual K'vvan-said-something-dumb pose near the front of the Galleries, Mayte glowering up at K'vvan and the Wingsecond glowering back.

"F*ck the rules." K'vvan manages to keep his words from rising to yelling level, but only because his green gaze flicks over to the protective gold out on the sands. "You shouldn't go out in the rain. I don't f*king want you to get hurt by anything. Is that too sharding hard to understand? You're the only normal thing in this whole stupid place!"

The smashing of boots against the galleries stairs echoes through before W'rin emerges at the top. Not tied to the sands as the clutch father's rider has been a relief, but he still here to inspect, keep an eye on and otherwise be obessive about something that effects the weyr. Only this time there are people here. "F- the rules, wingsecond?" Oh yes, the weyrleader caught just enough of this conversation to be dangerous, and his voice dips well below its normal volume. Something is brewing. "I would suggest, wingsecond, that is the last thing you should be telling one of Igen's candidates. Especially one that might be directly under you one day."
*(Inneundo intended by player, not by W'rin)

Alright, there's bending, breaking and tweaking, but then there's one last level that has Mayte looking entirely unimpressed: "If I don't go out in the rain, I can't get things done. And keep your voice down." Mayte caught that glance out to Elicheritath and does the same, flicking back to K'vvan once she notes the gold hasn't moved. "No one is normal!" she hisses, arms crossing over her chest. W'rin's entry gets a startled look and then relief passes over Mayte's face, but she isn't quite ready to smile. Instead the look back at K'vvan is victorious: see? She now steps back to allow W'rin a little closer.

Well s*it. K'vvan's whole posture changes as W'rin stomps his way into the galleries. The scowl doesn't fade, and he squares his shoulders. And Salutes. He doesn't forget that. "Yes sir. Just… helping her understand the seriousness of standing. And," he snaps his mouth shut. "Just that." Nothing else.

She didn't salute, if Mayte thought she was going to get out of this free of charges she should have been more diligent. "Speaking of candidates and rules." His eyes slide sideways towards the girl, followed by his slowly turning head. A single eyebrow lifts, he'll wait, even as he continues to dress K'vvan down. "Mayte is an intelligent young woman, and she knows several riders. Yourself included, K'vvan. I'm sure she understands the obligation and possiblities of her decision. I'd rather you didn't scare off the smart, sturdy ones." Is this one smart? The eyebrow lifts higher. "There is are a couple who I think might have been kicked in the head by a runner. You are more than welcome to frighten them out of the barracks."

Oh, yeah: Mayte's salute is just after K'vvan's as she remembers her manners. "I understand the importance, sir," she tells W'rin, which is not exactly what K'vvan said, now is it, "And I'm aware of how vital each dragon is to the Weyr." Because you aren't a Candidate long if you don't realize that. W'rin's comment of… less than stellarly bright Candidates earns a little snort-turned-cough, and from the wickedly cheeky smirk that skates over Mayte's face, she's thinking of a few.

"Sir, I doubt I could scare Mayte into or out of anything." Mayte totally gets a little glare at that. This is totally all her fault. "I believe I have duties to do elsewhere. If I may be excused?" He even edges slightly backwards, away from the angry weyrleader and his WRATH.

Salute given and the weyrleader relaxes, or maybe that was just a muscle spasm (he is getting older). "Alright then. Begone, candidate." W'rin's eyebrow slowly lowers as his head directs Mayte towards the exit, and under the assumption that she has thusly performed her orders he turns full K'vvan. "Nope." And with that he lets his weight collapse onto a gallery bench, and motions to the seat next to him. "You're probably right about that though."

Go ahead, glare all you want: Mayte is immune! She doesn't look K'vvan directly in the eye at this point, and though her lips are curling, they're still pressed together. The Apprentice-cum-Candidate salutes to W'rin upon his dismissal, with more of a cheeky grin, and scampers up the steps to depart.
Mayte also gave K'vvan the tail end of that salute.

"Sir?" K'vvan blinks and eyes the chair right next to W'rin for a second, and then sits down in one just one over. Tush sat down his eyes can follow Mayte up and out, the scowl evening out into just a firm frown of worry.

"You're probably right…" The weyrleader rubs a hand against his facial hair as he repeats the statement absently, "She's one of those women, K'vvan. Their independence is both utterly and overpoweringly attractive, but at the same time the very thing that you find most infuriating. Hmm? I got one just like that."

K'vvan's gaze snaps right back to W'rin, then darts down to the sands, perplexity writ in the lines upon his forehead. "Uh, sir? Sienna? I mean, I guess?" Congratulations W'rin, you've completely stumped the spiky wingsecond.

W'rin snorts a bit of unexplained laughter, and breaks his gaze from the greenrider's to study the eggs ont he sands, "I mean, Mayte. Mayte is like Sienna that way." Hunched slightly now as his focus hangs on each egg individually. "Big clutch. Good for the pass. We'll need all the descent candidates we can get."

K'vvan reaches up to run a hand through his much shorter hair, scratching the back of his head a bit on confusion. "Because she'll never actually do what is best for her?" K'vvan tosses the guess out there, then, grateful for the change in what can only be an awkward conversation, turns his own attention back to the eggs. "I think we have some. At least, they've been on ground crew, so they get that it's serious." Hopefully.

The male's hypothesis draws what could only be laughter out of W'rin, "She won't do what you think is best for her, but those might be two separate things. Any one of us could die, K'vvan. We all will. She has the potential to be a good rider, leave it be. Igen need good riders, even if it puts those we care about in danger. You can't be caught up in your emotions." Hand slaps at an insect on the back of his neck. "Aye. Experience is good. How's Arroyo?"

"Nadeeth thinks she'll be a good rider too." K'vvan adds this with all the ill humor that he can come up with. "Not poorly. The two weyrlings we got have been fitting in well enough, Trek has had some interesting ideas… and K'ane is gone. So." Because that was an issue there for a bit.

"Not poorly." The weyrleader sucks in a large breath and exhales slowly. "Ivy. I like that one. Level-headed. E'bert, well he seems better than when he was a brat running around Ravene's store." Trek's ideas are left alone for the moment as he turns his head just slightly and pulls his shoulders back. "Not a fan of K'ane? Eh?"

"Once he got his head out of his a** and started talking to his mother again." K'vvan lets his hands fall back down to his knees, and then leans forward on them, staring at the eggs. "Mutual not-fans. But he's in Mirage now. So I can go back to hate him without having to work with him," K'vvan suddenly remembers who he is talking to and winces at the words that have fallen from his mouth. "Sorry sir."

Shoulders lift and fall heavily at the apology, "What for? It's a perfectly sensable statement. If he were on Arroyo and you were not able to work with him - then that might be an issue." W'rin offers a momentary grin and then eyes K'vvan. "So as it is, you doing okay with everyone on the wing?"

K'vvan steals a glance at the weyrleader as he shoves off his dislike of the bronzerider. "They haven't pushed me off a ledge yet." K'vvan shrugs against the thought, "And Nadeeth has gotten really good at being able to coordinate the trios shifting around the dragons that can last the whole fall."

"Usually a good sign, but I wouldn't hang around near the edge too much." W'rin's hands clasp in front of him, giving little indication of the joke except the shudder of his shoulders. "You guys are doing fine, K'vvan. She doesn't work alone, that's the both of you."

"Yeah, well, I try not to. Shea, Ada and A'lory… I wouldn't put it past them." Arroyo really had the WORST leadership ever. But they work. Somehow. K'vvan rubs the back of his neck again, "Yeah well. No major injuries in the last fall, just stupid little ones that couldn't have been prevented."

"Good. Wouldn't want a second 'accidently' falling off his ledge." But letting the joke slide for a moment W'rin nods slowly, "Yah. For as bad a fall as it was we didn't pretty well as a weyr." His jaw sets unsets for a moment. "Well. If everything is good then. I suppose I could let you go." This scene brought to you by awkward forced moments with the weyrleader, and the letter 'd'.

"Well, if I do fall, you know what happened." It is ALMOST a joke. Almost. K'vvan does stand though, as W'rin is letting him go. But he doesn't step away, just looks down at the eggs again. "It isn't natural," He points down to the sands, at the same WHITE SPARKLY one as before, "that one shouldn't sparkle so much."

W'rin just grins up at K'vvan. "Well. They all have their own…looks." Though as he says it the weyrleader's attention turns to the pointed out egg.

"Whythe f*ck did it have to bee El'ai? OF couse he would make sparkly babies. It's a f*king desert." Grumpy has come back in full force, and this time K'vvan is acutally going to salute. "Sir."

A gruff chuckle at the grumpy and W'rin returns the salute, "Surprise Tuli didn't destroy him." But his attention is elsewhere now.

W'rin's attention elsewhere means K'vvan can edge outwards, towards the door. "Fly safe sir." And then he's gone, up and out leaving the weyrleader alone to stare at the future of the weyr.

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