Fall was over the Weyr today and it was a somber affair, but Igen resolution tempered injuries and made it a textbook fight. Feeling too isolated in his weyr and away from the bounty of maps and past records, Arroyo's wingsecond usually adapts the archives into his 'office'. The archivists don't seem to mind the brownrider, he's not usually a firecracker in a glass factory, so much so Rev's all but part of the furniture. Fingers buried in the hair as he supports his head, he directs an intense stare to the report he's both reading and editing for his own observations. All in all, it seems quite… boring.

Fall was over the Weyr today, which meant Tyzana had plenty of time to get her duties out of the way, since they were all stuck inside anyway. So now she's got free time and she's going to use it…getting a book? Yeah, that's right. Since she's finally got reading down, she spends a lot of time in the archives, so all the archivists know her by sight now and ignore her completely - she's always very conscientious about putting things where they belong, after all. Th'bek is noted, but not disturbed as she makes her way to one of the shelves, replacing the book in her hand and then perusing for another. Which is not boring at all, because BOOKS! Or whatever it is the Pernese read. Silence reigns as she slowly moves amongst the shelves, searching out her next selection.

Due to their time in the archives, it's no surprise an overlap of common ground occurs. Th'bek knows Tyzana's face as a reoccuring theme, and has smiled distantly, but with honesty, on more than one instance. It's been a while since he's done it, too much of himself channeled into rider evaluations. A blunt thumbnail has been pressing repeatedly into the softer parts of that same hand while he works, still energies unspent. He hasn't cleaned up much since Fall, changed into a different clothing set, but still carrying a trace of firestone and evaporated sweat. He reaches for a glass, discovers it empty, remembers he knew it was, and lets his gaze further out to play. There's the girl. "You come hear often." Instantly clearing his throat after, a line of interest, not criticism.

Yep, Th'bek's as familiar a sight in the archives as Granildi, the old retired archivist who spends her days refiling the same seven papers over and over again (yeah, senility's a bitch). Basically, he's part of the scenery. So when the scenery actually addresses her with something other than one of those vague smiles, it does surprise Tyzana a bit. She pauses in the act of taking down a tome, blinking at him. "Who, me?" Then, as if suddenly realizing that of course he means her, since there's no one else here except archivists, she nods. "Yeah. I do. I like to read." And she's got a lot of Turns of doing so to make up for. "You do too. You're always bent over something at that table." Gaze goes to his shoulder, the knot resting there. "Wingsecond-type stuff?" It's a guess, really.

Th'bek throws his eyes open a little more, letting the light in as well as Tyzana's comment. "Don't think to confuse 'like' with 'must'. I mean, the written word is valuable but I never was very book smart, not like some. It's a good trait to have." For a girl, but he neither says it nor infers it. Th'bek's voice is kept low and it is stamped every bit in Igen dialect. "Yes," leaning back into the chair not with abandon, but a conditioned decline. "Rider evalutions, about thirty." Arroyo's entirety. It shouldn't take long but he is prone to being methodical and hasn't the turns of experience of being adept at it. "What sorts do you read?"

A little smile plays over Tyzana's face "Actually, I meant that you're hear often, not that you like to read. You've never looked enthused about what you were reading, really." A finger pushes the tome back into place and then she turns, moving a bit closer to his table and his spread-out reports, a tiny wrinkle of commiseration appearing. "I can see why, if it's as boring as it sounds. Rider evaluations, huh? Doesn't sound nearly as interesting as the stuff I read." She waves a hand at the shelves behind her "I read a lot of things. Histories, mostly, but sometimes I like a good uh….story." Bodice ripper, she's just too embarrassed to say it - as the slight flush would suggest. "I'm Tyzana."

"Really, I look that resentful?" He looks at Tyzana with due diligence. "I attribute it to my 'studying' face looks too close to my 'ill-tempered' one." Most anyone who knows the native knows he's not easily prone to wrath. Th'bek draws in a breath, a quiet version within these walls, and lets it go, chest and tunic contracting. "What I dread most are their frequency, the task isn't really a burden." Tavuqth says something gutty and his rider laughs aloud. "I'm Th'bek, Tavuqth and I ride with Arroyo, good to know your name. What is it you do besides read?"

"Not resentful, exactly, just…not like you're all that excited." Tyzana qualifies, then gives a little laugh. "Maybe you need to practice more, so they're not so close." This a suggestion as she pulls out a chair, settles into it - seems she can find interest in a chat as much as reading the written word. "I totally understand, though. I hate the days I'm on sheet duty. Do you know how boring it is to wash sheet after sheet after sheet?" Talk about stultifying "No excitement whatsoever. Well met, Th'bek. I suppose I should call you sir, being a wingsecond and all, and me just a lowly laundress." She doesn't seem to mind being so, however, judging by the cheerful way she describes herself "That's basically what I do. Laundry, read, eat." She's a girl of many interests, obviously "Sometimes I go visit the Zingari. And I like to go to the bazaar and look at all the interesting things." Isn't she a bundle of fun?

Th'bek tips his head in Tyzana's favor when his hidework style is described. "Maybe one day they'll install a mirror in here and I'll refine my ways." And maybe, too, the Red Star will implode. He draws himself up better as the girl sits, and this entails a flex on his legs inward under his chair. "I don't really need your respect until you fall into Arroyo, so Rev is just fine— I used to be Threvobek." He makes a pencil nick by N'faar's name so he can return to him later. "I don't know anyone who doesn't appreciate clean sheets, so I'll thank you on all our behalfs." Behalves. Whatever the plural really is. "Do you come from very far?"

"Rev. I like that. You can call me 'Zana if you like." Tyzana pulls her lets up, heels on the edge of the chair and arms wrapping her calves as she regards Th'bek with a steady gray gaze. She herself seems inclined to solemnity, with little flashes of amusement here and there and the occasional faint smile, a good match for the brownrider's own even keel emotion-wise. "And you're welcome. Now you can appreciate them even more, knowing I slave over them in utter boredom. I much prefer washing clothes. Especially the difficult fabrics." Because those take total attention and careful care. "Or mending. I ply a mean needle." One of those brief smiles flash, head tilting "Keroon's where I'm from." And that's all he gets of that. "You? Weyr bred, or brought by search?" She's learning the lingo, too, it seems.

The wizened archivist is making an ugly face in their vicinity, but in fairness the wax-like pliability of his face almost always looks like that. Th'bek looks down at his work as if that is the key to looking industrious and thereby freedom from dark looks. He is less excited about fabrics and clothes washing, but basic courtesy and tact prevent him from looking pained. "Candidates will come looking to you for robe help, no doubt." Where was she three turns ago! "Neither, well not quite. I was brought to the Weyr as just a squalling thing, sevendays under my belt maybe. Otherwise a Weyrbrat in every function." His grin subtracts turns despite squint lines already in place.

That wizened archivist doesn't scare Tyzana - he always looks cranky. And it isn't as if they're talking loud, anyway. So he can suck it. She just ignores him, though a brief amusement crosses her face at Th'bek's attempt at studiousness. "I'll be happy to help them. I love sewing." Because in her little world, that's about as exciting as it gets. Mention of his origins at the Weyr bring a surprisingly wistful expression to her face, though it disappears quickly "Your family moved here when you were a baby, then? Or do you come from the traveling folk, like F'in?"

Famous last words, Tyzana. The youthful masses will someday swarm to her. "And maybe you'll get something good out of the help." A prince some days, a scoundrel the next. Picking an easier rider to describe means working in a few concise notations. "I was told my mother was a trader, so maybe there's a line where F'in and I are related." It's pure kismet. "Tavuqth and his Rhakanth are clutch brothers and we consider ourselves the same, blood or no blood. So, you know him?" His good-nature is now prying, comparatively, wondering how far the bronzerider has 'outreached' so likely he can gore him with it later as good friends do.

"Something good out of it? Well, I suppose." But Tyzana sounds kind of doubtful "Likely I'll just get sore fingers." Because that's a thing, when you sew for a long time. Head shake comes, a little smile as well, as he further explains his origins "Seems everyone's related to F'in one way or another. At least everyone I meet. He's been a good friend to me, since I came to the Weyr." And if she'd like it to be more? Likely will never happen "He treats me just like a sister, even though he's already got one. You know Onari, too? She's not a rider." Tyzana - the master of evasion.

"Friend, yes, he's a lord among us." At an initial glance Th'bek might seem mocking but there's a core of an honest opinion. "I know of Onari, yes," at one time even was sweet on her turns prior. "The Reika are good people, a credit to have at the Weyr." Hands neaten the hidework in preparation for transportation. "These'll have to wait- about time to prep for night drills," standing, he assumes six feet, and nimbly lifts the chair in. "Sounds like you got a good lot in life so far, Tyzana," declining at this time to use the nickname. "Enjoy the peace and quiet." Knuckles rap the table in a knock of departure, and the brownrider turns the left corner.

"I like the Reika a lot. The aunties always try to feed me up." Because Tyzana is eternally skinny, for all she eats. As he stands, she smiles "It was nice finally talking to you, Rev, after all this time. Don't know why we didn't before." Except Tyzana's shy, so would never initiate it. A slight frown at the mention of a 'good life', but all she does is nod "It is now….." This murmured quietly as she raises a hand at his departure, before getting up and moving back toward the shelves, easily slipping back into her previous activity.