Who

Sadaiya, Teyaschianniarina

What

The guards need propaganda posters, Mirage needs a wingleader. Sadaiya provides both!

When

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

Where

Archives, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Archives

A grand room, lost to more pressing concerns, the Archives hold many treasures well past their prime, from instruments to examples of older flying gear and agenothree tanks. Faded and disused Records lean tiredly against their shelves, their bindings peeling and creating layers of dust on surfaces long left without maintenance. The floors are dirty, various footprints creating crisscrossing paths between rickety wooden chairs and drunkenly off-kilter tables. Columns rise upward to the ceiling, hung with glow-baskets scarcely tended and fast losing their strength. The hum of activity is duller, here in this forgotten space — few visit in search of historical facts.


It's a flurry of artistic industry in the Archives, as revealed by the unusually fresh and bright glows. Sadaiya herself is also illuminated, the glowlight shining off of the messy bun atop her head and revealing the long streaks of various colors of paints on her face. She's spread out at the largest table, bent and concentrating on what appears to be a series of posters, small paintbrush in hand, tongue sticking out between her teeth as she applies more color to her work.

Captains of industry, them: while the senior weyrwoman PAINTS with a PURPOSE, its all leathers-that-finally-fit and satisfied boot-heels on the stone as one of her wingriders makes her way in. Teya is sans-Rickety today, her tiny son safe and sound with the nannies; she is plus stacks of hides, neatly bound and ready to be archived away. It's the extra glows that CLUE HER IN to someone else being down here, and it's formality for affection's sake that has, "Weyrwoman," as her greeting. Along with the shuffle-shuffle-elbowwiggle of 'I am totally saluting but if I actually salute I will drop all my shiznit.'

Lifting her head, Sadaiya peeks up through a curtain of loose hair, squinting to see her wingmate's entrance. With a quick pursing of her lips, she blows the errant locks out of the way of her eyes, leaving her free to flash a grin at Teya. "At ease, brownrider," she says, somewhat whimsically. Straightening, her brush gets set in a handy holder, allowing the woman to raise her eyes above her head in a spine-popping stretch. "Mmmmrrrrf. How are you doing?"

ARMS NOT EYES
ARE YOU SURE
MAYBE
OKAY JUST CHECKING
MY FLAGELLA, HOWEVER? DON'T EVEN ASK ABOUT MY DEWLAP

Teya's grin is lopsided in return, and she moves in to annex a portion of one of the other tables — this one smaller than the one Sadaiya's using, with a re-finished top — for her bound hides. "I can see my feet again," she answers, face crinkling up under her freckles, "and I fit in my leathers again - mostly, anyway, I still kind of," she gestures crosswise across her chest, "but otherwise. You're working on something." It's not a question, although the lift of her eyebrows and slight crane of her neck to see indicate that it probably should be.

"You can hardly tell that you're newly back to single capacity!" Sadaiya says, giving Teya an approving once-over. "Plus you can control when your body does things now and wear clothes that aren't sad." The interest in her project has the Weyrwoman scootching back and gesturing much like Vanna White. "We're looking for more guard-types and since I've got so much extra down time," A dark frown flashes across her face, "I thought I'd make some recruitment posters." The lettering is even, if almost obscenely calligraphic, and are flanked by a pair of cartoonish figures. One is a guard outfitted woman giving the thumbs up. The other is a sobbing criminal in a stereotypical striped jumpsuit, his wrists held behind his back with a set of glitter-embellished handcuffs. "JOIN THE GUARDS!… that's all I have, because I can't really think of, like, a slogan that'll really make it pop." The 'pop' gets accompanied by a brief flick of jazzhands.

"We miss you," is honest, counterpoint to that dark frown, but Teya MOVES ALONG, because Sadaiya's pet project is near and dear to her heart. "It almost makes me wish I wasn't a rider," she says, then flicks a brief look upward and repeats, "almost," with a half-sized grin. "Because I loved the guard, and it did so much good for me, and — it's good, that you've got them letting in women. If I have any downtime, if any of them want extra training-" she makes the offer as she scoots in to actually look at the posters, then laughs in surprise. "Oh, that's quite — I like those. Um, you could do a," she strikes a pose, a very patriotic pose, if the Pernese had the right frame of reference, complete with finger-point and all, "The guard wants YOU."

Aww! Sadaiya's face softens, her smile gentle and affectionate, before she actually says, "Awww! Oh! Oh that's a good pose!" The enthusiasm totally gets the goldrider PUMPED, full to brimming with patriotism. Cue the eagles and fireworks and Hulk Hogan music and the destruction of the fourth wall. "Can you hold that for a second?" Bouncing slightly in her seat, Sadie reaches for a pencil and quickly sketches Teya's frame. It's not perfect, but we can call it 'stylized' since it's quite Good Enough by far, and she chatters as she runs her pencil over the poster's surface. "Yeah, I really miss flying fall, too. Can't imagine how much more exhilirating it'd be if I didn't have to use a flamethrower, not that I'd risk Jivayath's fertility. It's just REALLY hard to, well, winglead when I can't get a good idea of how the fall is falling. But, blah, it's for the best." Grouse.

Teyaschianniarina holds the pose, holds the pose, holds the pooooooose with all the patience of someone who, once upon a time, had to spend some very long guard shifts on one place for most of them. Once it's Good Enough, though, she ducks forward to actually LOOK at the result. "Maybe do the lettering on this one in — more blocky, instead of fancy? Make it SUPER easy to read." She chews on her bottom lip, then admits, "It was difficult, learning to switch between flaming," she mimes the reach and grab and pitch-at-dragonmouth, "and the flamethrower," this one Sadaiya should be more familiar with, the grab and sweep, "when I was pregnant, and didn't have the right range of motion for the first. I'm glad to be back to it - not," and she grins, just a little conspiratorial-sly, "that I won't miss the 'thrower, but a few months of practice versus several turns," she shrugs, all what-can-you-do.

"Yeah, yeah, that's way better. Just, y'know, hard not to show off the calligraphical skills I was forced to learn. Shouldn't be TOO hard to thicken the lines…" With a slight ticking noise, Sadaiya adds the final details to what's now a fairly convincing outline of Teya's SOUL TOUCHING pose and then sets her pencil aside. "Throwers are a huge pain. I can only imagine having to adjust only temporarily." Her voice is slow, thoughtful and vaguely distracted as she flicks a few bits off of her handiwork, erases a couple lines. "Even then, you're probably a fair sight better than I am. Those who can't, teach and all thaaat…" The poster is shifted slightly, as is the goldrider's head to get a good look from several angles. "Plus that whole natural talent thing."

Teyaschianniarina, SOUL TOUCHER. At least in propaganda posters. "I never learned the calligraphy," Teya admits, "but for anything less fancy, I'm readable from a hundred paces, at least." She shifts too, catching another angle of the poster, then nods consideringly. "If you can do the art, I can do the letters on more of them?" she offers, reaching out to touch the edge of one poster, thoughtful. "I think everyone should have to drill with the 'throwers, to get some practice in - you never know when someone's going to get pregnant, or injured enough that they can still fly but don't still have a full range of motion. It would be good to have that knowledge ahead of time, instead of," she sketches a gesture, vague, "having to scramble to learn during crunch time."

The loud scrape of wood on stone is punctuated by the sharp rapport of Sadaiya's chair being scooted, lifted, and dropped sideways. "Come on, pull up a seat. Plenty of brushes, plenty of room." With room for both ladies, the Weyrwoman gets down to the business of shoring up the new mascot's lines. Being bent over, her chatter's acoustics bounce oddly off of the table's surface. "Y'know, yeah, that's a good idea. There are a lot of teaching opportunities popping up, like Kyara's running some informal self defense classes with, well, the whole thiiiing." The last word gets drawled dramatically, and she tips her head up to display powerfully rolling eyes. "Ergo all the new guards. There are a lot of young ladies interested, and I'm hoping there can be more. Less aggression and all, in theory."

"She would have made a good guard," is Teya's assessment of Kyara, "or guard-rider, had she Impressed before we came forward to meet the Pass." She selects a brush, tucks it behind her ear, and grabs a pencil as well as a blank sheet so that she can start blocking out lettering before she paints. Smart Cookie Teya. "More diversity, at least - I don't know that all of the women who will be in the guard will be less aggressive," there's a brief cough, a sidelong look at Sadaiya, "considering some of the people we both know who have been guards in the past - but. The guard was going to be my next project once," she gestures, vague - but also broadly encompassing. "So I'm glad to see that there are actually changes being made."

Sadaiya is hardcore. No first drafts for her. She lives life on the edge, baby. "Well, you know, not as, um, prone to get all grabby hands with the other residents." Her lips press together to form a pale line that barely holds back her grumbles. "And of course, yeah, we can't just cut out an entire half of the population because they're not, Idunno, packing meat heat or whatever." Somehow, her face holds it's grim mask, and the nose-breathing hisses slightly. Backpedaling the topic a bit, she takes a breath, another, and makes her best attempt to un-knot her muscles. "Hey, there's always things to be taught, people to be given your particular brand of awesome backbone… wait." Setting her pencil down, Sadie pushes upright and threads her fingers together, eyes suddenly sharp with interest rather than irritation. "This is kind of left field, but I haven't been able to do the whole wingleading aspect of my job lately. Can I get a favor, maybe, and have you pick up the slack? You're talented at it already, anyway, and I'm not even up there to see what's what."

Teya is a perfectionist. Draft ALL the things. "That kind of aggression, yeah - less likely to have complains about unwanted grab-ass going unheard because the guards are the ones doing the glad-handing." She ducks her head when Sadaiya brings up her brand of backbone, pencil stilling on the page. "The guard gave me a lot of that," she admits, "taught me how to use - wait, what." This time Teya's attention is entirely focused on Sadaiya again, processing through the unexpected request. "Could I - yes," it's slow, a little drawn out, but then she repeats it again with more surety this time. "Yes, I could, if that's what you need me to do."

"Plus we're looking to keep our eyes on them in general a bit more. Between the new guards, the pair of eyes and ears we're training, and the bazaar workers, we should have more covered." With Teya's exclamation, Sadaiya looks up from her work and gives the brownrider a grin chock-full of relief. "You heard me. You're already experienced, plus you're not stapled to the ground. So long as you make sure to keep Tuli and myself apprised, it'd be SUCH a help if you could Winglead for a time. I mean, you're already loaded with ideas! Everyone wins!"

"Mirage is not exactly - well," Teya frowns, rubbing absently at the hip that got scored during her first experience with unpredictable falls. "We're mostly overflow, and the dragonhealers - who are good at their jobs, but cohesive coordination could be - key." This is Teya, talking herself UP to the job. "I haven't been a wingleader before," she reminds, but there's a still faintly staggered grin that follows it up, "but I will be leading in the air, and reporting to you and Tuli on the ground - anything that isn't directly during-Fall related, I'll run by you before I implement. And," she flushes, just a little bit underneath her freckles, "I hope it's only temporary. You're good in the air, Sadaiya."

Teya's correction earns a dismissive little flip of Sadaiya's hand. "I meant in general with commandish situations, if you were looking to be a guard and all that," she points out as she carefully shovels eraser niblets from the surface of the poster, looking up when the compliment hits to favor the newly-minted interim Wingleader with a 1000 watt smile. "You're far too kind and quite talented. I'm excited to see what you do with the wing and how you grow with it."

"I look forward to it," Teya admits, and there is growing enthusiasm in her smile. It's not all for her newly acquired rank, or appointed task, though: she pulls her potential-poster up as well, with its carefully blocked-in letters, and says, "What do you think? If we make some up to use as templates, we can get them out to be finished by - either some of our new recruits, or our Harpers. Get a little bit of fill-in the blank going on." She switches out her pencil for the paintbrush behind her ear, and reaches for a pot of paint.

The enthusiasm is contagious, and Sadaiya's face glows with vicarious glee. "Oooh, that's WAY better than the stuff I tried," she gushes, her voice thinning out in that peculiar squished way that happens as she leans across the table, stretching to grab her own bit of paint to use to finish the stylized propaganda-style poster. "You're right, though. We should probably make sure to get more of these rather than making them all by hand, even if we did make a TOTAL masterpiece. Once again, you're the best and I appreciate the help." The swishing brush of her hands across her lap gets stalled, and Sadaiya cocks her head to the side as if listening. "Hm. Sounds like the Hatching Ground's getting busyish. Not much longer until poor Tuli gets stuck there. It is the WORST, hand to heart, girl."

"I'm lucky that Ryglinath has no apparent interest in chasing," Teya admits after her own bit of head-cocking, and a sigh. "He's being a bit of a butthead right now, though — here, once we've got these started I'll head down for moral support." Totally not JUST to show off her new knot in public; she does have a prior claim to the junior Weyrwoman's affections, after all. "I'll let you know how it goes, 'cause knowing El she's not actually laying until the middle of the night." So they totally have time to finish their poster prototypes. Which is what Teya sets about actually doing.

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