Who

Clementine, Jorlen, T'zaim

What

Some talk of Jorlen's apprenticeship… and Clementine's clipboard…

When

It is evening of the twenty-second day of the sixth month of the seventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

The Harper's Solarium, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 26 Mar 2016 04:00

 

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"You're the only man I'd let call me butterfingers."


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The Harper's Solarium

The sunlight never shines so bright except when to showcase the displays of art and hand-wrought delicacies that man can bring to bear: here, then, it shines the brightest, through sweetly cunning skylights slanted through the roof high above, producing a quality and quantity of light that is an unnatural marvel given just how cozy this room is well-within the boundaries of the craft complex. It is a long stretch of a room, capable of handling several exhibitions simultaneously, and often filled with people admiring the pieces displayed — and Harpers hovering to guard these treasures from sticky fingers. To the south, a discreet doorway exits into the craft shops; to the north, the bold blue of the Harper's Wing beckons.


This early evening after the meal, several people can be found browsing the various displays and tables. Among them is one harper apprentice, current in front of a woodworker table from the various carvings on display. Jorlen picks up one of the small vials also on the table and examines it closely

Buzzy harmonica hum. Pause. Another hum. Then another pause. Then the sound goes away entirely, but its source is easy to identify. T'zaim comes in from the shops, cutting across the Solarium as a bypass for getting to the adjacent Harper Wing, and he's just now wiping said buzzy harmonica with a cloth, mostly letting that captivate his attention while he walks. After enough times through the Solarium, a person's bound to stop paying attention to the precious displays, and he would probably pass through without so much as an upward glance were it not for passing in earshot of Jorlen; "Anything new and interesting?"

Jorlen looks up when hears this weird buzzing and then turns around when T'zaim speaks up. "New? Not really. I'm just looking at some stain samples and wood treatment to patch a couple bare spots I found on my dulcimer and maybe add some subtle variations to whats there already. So you play that often?" as he points to the source of the buzzing…aka harmonica

Clementine has places to be. Like getting something to eat since she missed lunch and dinner. It's one of those days where you rush from appointment to appointment and when you finally take a moment to catch your breath you realize, 'hey, I haven't really had anything to eat since breakfast'. She hasn't exactly been eating in the living caverns that much since there's been such a push for healthy food, so it's not surprising that she's heading towards the Treble Clef. Juggling her clipboard and a folder and some loose papers she nearly barrels right on into T'zaim as she comes around an exhibit. "Uh oh…" The goldrider brings her momentum to halt, not that it prevents her from dropping some stuff. "Well… Hello…" Awkward greetings…?

"Ambitious." That's T'zaim talking to Jorlen about the whole wood-staining process, said with amusement that he mostly hides but shows juuuuuust a teensy bit. On the verge of putting the harmonica away, wrapped in its little felt cloth, he's also on the verge of answering for it when Clementine (sadly) doesn't trample him. But does drop some stuff, and that precludes any drivel about mouth-organs. :D "Evening, butterfingers. You need a hand?" He helpfully toe-nudges some papers or something back her way.

Jorlen starts to reply to T'zaim when Clementine almost rolls the other rider over. He looks over to see who it is and frowns slightly and quickly hides it at the site of Clem, cleary remembering their last meeting. He briefly looks back over at T'zaim at the butterfingers comment but stays silent for now at least

"You're the only man I'd let call me butterfingers." Make of that statement what you will~ Clementine scoops the papers up from the ground, pinching the one that T'zaim nudges with his foot. "But no, I think I've got it all. Sorry for nearly knocking you over." They're clipped into place on the board, where they likely should have been all along. Her gaze sweeps between the two men and she frowns when she sees Jorlen. "Apprentice."

T'zaim chooses to make of it a compliment and quick-smiles - the high-beam variety, though he dials that down after a second to ask, "Women, though?" Are permitted to call her butterfingers…? Anyway, he waves away that question along with her apology, pockets the harmonica, looks at everything Clementine is picking up and not down her shirt because he's a grown-up now in the nosiest way possible. In doing so, he has to notice her frown, and might have caught Jorlen's quick one, too. "It's chilly in here tonight." He's awesome.

Jorlen waits a bit before replying, "Goldrider with a polite nod" before giving the briefest of smirks in T'zaim's direction "That's one way of putting it." He definately does not look down either 'cause well, apprentice pancakes in more ways than one

Clem winks at T'zaim for his question, not expanding on a response since he waves it off anyway. She resettles her things and makes a show of keeping her clipboard out of his direct line of sight, flashing him a friendly enough smile. "You're a busybody." It's okay to say stuff like that if it's said fondly, right? Right. "How's your working going?" She asks the apprentice, fixing him with a polite smile now and a subtle lift of one eyebrow.

T'zaim nods. With emphasis. Because he is a busybody. He knuckle-taps the back of Clementine's clipboard twice to point out, "You're making it difficult," like she needs this FYI. But all that's really just the byplay, since the drama of 'these two obvs don't like each other' is unfolding right here in front of him. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks expectantly at Jorlen, do tell.

Jorlen keeps a straight face though it looks like it takes some effort. "It goes well. I've had my evenings to myself last sevenday or so." He shoots a brief curoius glance at the clipboard, but doesn't bother saying anything about it

"I know." Clementine replies, smirking just a little at the Weyrlingmaster. "But now you'll walk out of here wondering what's on these papers and why I didn't want you to see them." Or is she just messing with him? Equally plausible as her keeping something from him. The junior's expression is neutral for Jorlen even as he undergoes whatever is happening with his face. "That's good to hear."

"What normally happens to your evenings that you don't have them to yourself?" There's a half-second pause before T'zaim hears that question and qualifies, "Since you're an apprentice, that is." He puffs some air into his cheeks, holds it there, then blows it out with a shrug and lets the question ride on its own from there. Especially since he doesn't seem to expect an actual answer, adding Clementine's way, "Or! I could suggest - 'Are you heading toward dinner? Because I'm going that way myself.' And spend the next hour pestering you till you assure me that it's something boring like a count of the grains of rice in the kitchen." His upbeat tone makes this sound like a swell time. Plus, he's still pretty.

Jorlen just shrugs a bit at T'zaim's remark and question. "Well, I get to work on my own projects for a change and hopefully apprentice not much longer. Anyway, I need to get going, riders" he adds a polite nod then heads towards the harper wing

"Maybe this was all just an elaborate ploy to get you to have dinner with me?" Clementine smiles innocently and keeps that act in play until Jorlen is well on his way back to the harper wing. She blows out a breath between her lips and turns back to T'zaim and his pretty face. Tipping her head in the direction of the Treble Clef, "I don't count the grains of rice in the kitchen but I'll be happy to assure you that it's equally as boring."

With a trace of lingering bemusement, T'zaim watches after Jorlen. With quiet amusement, "My apprenticeship must have been considerably different from his." But he waits to say this till the kid is out of earshot, of course. Then he sticks out an elbow for Clementine - stops, rethinks it and sticks out the other arm instead, shuffling around to her other side with the shrugged explanation, "Thread," and chin-tilts toward the Treble Clef. Where he will ask who does count the grains of rice in the kitchen, then?! And probably make a big show of trying to see her clipboard.

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