Mayte, D'wane, Rh'ysar


D'wane gets to build that new bookcase for Mayte. Rh'ysar gets roped in, too.

Because crime doesn't pay, D'wane!


Before the Storm at Black Rock.


Weyrwoman's Office

OOC Date 19 Feb 2018 07:00




Weyrwoman's Office

Understated elegance has come to play here: a large desk dwarfs the occupant usually found sitting behind it, the deep grain of the wood a cherry-mahogany reminiscent of the heavy furniture that fills the Weyrwoman's weyr. Stacks of hides fill the surface to create a space of ordered disorder. Arranged around the desk are large chairs with thick cushions of deep jewel tones: sapphire, emerald, ruby. They are large enough to fit the tallest, brawniest of riders and weyrfolk. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with a variety of ledgers and other official-looking documents. To note, a shelf or two artfully hidden behind the bulk of the desk holds well-beloved spines of volumes that hold content of a more personal nature. Frivolous reading. A plant brings forest-hued cheer into the otherwise dark and heavy room, as does the sideboard where a variety of finger-treats are set out, offered to those who have business here. Undoubtedly, Hannah's presence can be felt in this room, though little in the way of personal knick-knacks are found.

At some point after D'wane became a one man hurricane in Mayte's office and before an actual hurricane decides to make it's appearance on Southern's shores, the weyrsecond has decided to make good on those orders to build new bookshelves and so he is here. Shirtless, because who needs things like cloth getting in the way of woodworking? And with a beer or few near by, cause you can't be too prepared. He doesn't seem completely lost as he's halfway through the current project. It's at least mostly all cut to the correct sizes and on to the hammering! "Hey… did you see that square?" Once they make sure it's all level of course.

Rh'ysar got suckered into this somehow. It probably sounded better than some other thing that was on the table, and the wildling man agreed — he's certainly not doing it out of the goodness of his heart, since he didn't break any bookshelves and doesn't need to pay penance. He also doesn't need a shirt, and has followed D'wane's solid example in removing said article of clothing. This way even if he's half the other man's size, he's equally manly. "Which?" Are there multiple squares? The wildling man is eyeing the whole thing with a healthy amount of skepticism, but he does pick up something which looks relatively square to pass off to D'wane.

The morning new bookshelves are supposed to arrive is always an exciting day! Rhiscorath is watching along with Mayte who comes in with an extra box of books because you can't have enough books for enough bookshelves, right? setting the box on the ground, Mayte gives D'wane's work a critical eye; and it's not the results from his work-out routine. "You sure that's level?" Because who doesn't love a backseat carpenter. Mayte gives Rh'ysar a long, evaluating look and her comment following is only half addressed to D'wane: "You know you don't get to delegate this, right?" Eyebrows rise at the shorter bronzerider and Mayte subtly checks if he's holding anything resembling a hammer.

"That triangle thing," D'wane's just going to wavy hand his non-hammer wielding hand towards the other bronzerider's directions and the supplies closest to him. There is indeed a carpenter's square over there, since the woodsmiths were the ones to lay out all the supplies. Mayte's arrival is met with a bit of a grumble that is quickly broken off by a swig of beer. Right, now he can answer. "I'm building 'em. Unless you want to help hold things instead of Rh'ysar?" He's got hammers, nails, and beer! What else does one need to carpenter things?


It's hidden so you can't list it! Shhh!

Mayte is checking out Rh'ysar's hammer already? Slow down, woman. "You said square." The bronzerider's tone is flat as he pulls back whatever square-shaped thing he was originally planning to offer, and goes for the triangle instead. This is handed to D'wane with a faint disdain, as though its misleading name somehow offends him. "Weyrwoman." A respectful nod is given to Mayte, his expression almost amused as D'wane names his role as 'holding things'. "You might have bookshelves after this." Might. He's still unconvinced.

Mayte gives D'wane a flat look: "That would defeat the purpose of this exercise, wouldn't it?" The tone is sweet as Ardstelle's klah and speaking of which, a drudge comes in bearing a pot of klah and a couple of mugs. But drudges can do basic math and eyes Rh'ysar worriedly, leaving the tray of klah on the desk and dashes out. "Rh'ysar." Her lips pull to one side, twitching with amusement as she examines D'wane's work: "It's looking bookshelfey." Like this is the best description. "How did you get pulled into this?"

D'wane wrinkles his face up a bit as he tries to think of how to explain confusing nomenclature to the wildling man… "Yeah…. the triangle is a square cause it's used to make sure things are nice and square." He shrugs as the explanation isn't quite as insightful as he hoped he could come up with. "Blame the sharding smiths." It's their tools. And D'wane's probably already hit his thumb with the hammer at least four times today. But at least he has the triangle shaped square now to check all the squarey squareness and hammer away. The hammer is safer than engaging Mayte.

"There were threats." Rh'ysar answers in that expressionless tone which makes it almost impossible to tell whether he's making a joke or not. Sorry, D'wane, he's only here to make your life easier when it comes to handing off (stupidly named) tools. "Wouldn't a square be more efficient in making things… square?" It seems the man isn't going to budge on his distaste for the nomenclature. In general, he's inclined to think that the Smiths have altogether too many tools for a relatively simple job. "Can't you use your eyes for that?" Squaring things off, that is. After a moment, he adds, "I'll speak to the Smiths."

The drudge rushes back in with the third mug, which doesn't match the others but places it delicately next to them. Mayte takes the pot and pours all three mugs, handing one to Rh'ysar and the other sits in her hand as if she's waiting… waiting… for D'wane to be… Nope, she's drinking from it. "Threats?" Instead of offended, though, the goldrider sounds amused and as for using one's eyes, Mayte adds, "You would think. But Rhis needs to be properly…" a pause as Rhiscorath interjects something, so the rider corrects herself, "mathmatically sure. She wants it precise." The ways of Smiths are mysterious to anyone except another Smith. "Have you been at this long?" Innocently asked…

If Mayte had to deal with Rekitryth in her wing, she'd understand the threats! Really she would! D'wane's fine without the klah. He's got his beer. Right there. Safely outside of possibly being knocked down in the work process. There is a bit of a glare at Rh'ysar though, but he'll snort. "Yeah, go speak with the smiths. And like she said. Rhiscorath is particular. Don't want to have to do it all over again…" And cue the bang bang bang sound of some nails being driven home. And since it's almost my bedtime, magically… D'wane responds with "Long enough. Rhu, your side is good?" Ready to stand this baby up?

Rh'ysar has no explanation for said threats, merely an enigmatic smile and a brief nod. Rekitryth probably deserves any threats leveled in his direction… but his rider counterpart isn't quite so guilty of bad behavior. Klah is taken with a murmured thank you as he raises he mug to his lips to take a sip. He has every intention of telling the Smiths how lacking their naming abilities are. "I'll keep Rekitryth away from her." Particularly when she flies. That would be a disaster waiting to happen. Although he doesn't answer D'wane aloud, Rhu does set his mug aside to better reach out to brace the bookshelf to raise it into a standing position. With any luck, it won't collapse in on itself.

Mayte's eyebrows jump so briefly over the lip of her mug at D'wane but she's grinning too: "D'wane gets it." When the Weyrsecond asks Rh'ysar, Mayte steps back a little though the comment on his bronze earns the wingrider a curious look. The bookshelf is raised slowly and cautiously; Mayte croses her arms over her chest and watches; management fundamentals. When it's finally wiggled into place, D'wane gets a sharp look and Mayte steps forward to examine it… her lips purse… before they open and she announces: "Good. Now, get out of here!" The books, she'll take care of herself.

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