Who

R'zel, Ryott, Treista, Ulrika

What

Treista has a special project for Ulrika and Ryott, and R'zel somehow gets pulled into the whole thing.

When

-- On Pern --
It is 6:31 AM where you are.
It is before dawn of the twenty-second day of the seventh month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Southern:
It is the eighty-second day of Winter and 37 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the winter rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.


Where

Southern Weyr, Living Caverns

OOC Date 21 Mar 2019 04:00

 

r-zel_default.jpg ryott_default.jpg treista_default.jpg ulrika_default.jpg

"And R'zel, since you so kindly offered up your love for records sifting, would you mind keeping an eye on these two? I have a couple of things I must attend to before I can park here."


living_caverns.jpg

Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in a naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophobia. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about, candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next to the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the Weyr's youngest. The rich blue of the Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


The weather in Southern since the intense fall that took Va'os out has been nothing less than aquatic. It's been raining non-stop since after the fall, a boon they would have liked sooner in Southern, perhaps Va'os would not have been injured. As it is though, he was, and a death later in the night didn't help things. It's got everyone on edge, including Southern's most Jr Weyrwoman, who sits now at the head table by herself trying to read and wolf down a late breakfast. The fact that her hair is plastered to her head is an indicator that she hasn't been here long, and probably won't be here long.

It's a stressful time to be sure, a sobering reminder to the Candidates, too, of the likely fate they'll face if they do Impress. It's caused a bit of mumbling and whispering in the oldest of their number, too, with the younger ones still insistent that such a thing would never happen to them. All the same, there's a somber air about things, and Ulrika is not unaffected. Her day starts with early morning exercises, with another dose scheduled later when Ocelot runs their PT and drills. But, she needs to eat something, even if her stomach says otherwise, and she finds herself in the living caverns, scrounging up a light meal that's heavy on protein. She's just as wet, soaked through to the braided bun, and when she spots Treista, she offers the Weyrwoman a salute and a low-called, "Morning, Weyrwoman." But she'll not delay long; the other woman looks busy and she's not about to intrude on her personal time.

With the Hatching creeping closer by the day, Ryott has been harder and harder to find. Oh, she'll be at her chores and PT, and do the bare minimum necessary to squeak by with only a few disapproving looks. But other than that, the girl is usually gone before anyone wakes in the morning, and returns with seconds to spare before lights out. At this moment, the igenite creeps from the Kitchens, looking quite dry actually, and meanders toward the klah table. She takes no notice of those around her, her focus cast entirely inwards as she spoons an obscene amount of sweetener into the dark, bitter beverage. Her fair of blues and gold, follow after her, all finding perches nearby to quietly roost until breakfast is offered.

Treista drops the hide she'd been reading and rubs at her eyes, just about when Ulrika swings by with her greeting. "Good Morning Candidate." SHe responds, running both hands through her hair and leaning back in her chair after. A headache is cropping up and she pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes falling closed. Normally, she would try to scrape up a conversation, or would be down in the lower tables with the rest of the weyrfolk, but today it's nice to have her own space. Time for thinking and reflection are a good thing, and the reports are still buzzing around in her head. So much to do… It's moments before she looks around again to spot Ulrika. When next the guard looks over she'll find Treista wiggling a finger at her. C'mere. Ryott's entry, for now, remains unnoticed, though Treista does note movement from the side of the room. It happens all the time, it's a mess hall, can't expect anything else.

And she's just about to sit when she spots that movement from the head table. Ulrika pauses, plate on the table and seat claimed but not sat in. There's a slight tilt of her head in wordless inquiry, but it's really just confirmation that she seeks. Once given - or presumed, at any rate - she takes up her plate and approaches Treista. "Ma'am? Do you need me to get you anything?" It's impossible to ignore the Weyrwoman's state, but she also - perhaps wisely - doesn't call undue attention to it. Ryott, on the other hand, isn't spotted immediately; but the place is big and busy and her concerns are elsewhere at the moment.

Thank Faranth for busy Living Caverns, Ryott keeps just enough of her wits about her to find an empty chair, maybe the one that Ulrika was just about to claim herself. Plopping herself into it, the girl leans back in her chair, the front legs lifting slightly off the ground, and braces her mug of klah between her hands, held just below her lips. Her dark gaze is still miles away, as she stares at the empty table in front of her, but seems completely unphased by the somber attitude swirling around her as she takes sporatic sips from her steaming drink.

Time for Treista to use candidates as they should be used! She's not looking for get to know each other feels today, the somber and stressed mood of the weyr is more attention grabbing than her curiosity today. "Once you're done with your meal, I would like you to make a run to the archives for me. I want threadfall reports and flight charts for the last four quarters and a list of the groundcrews currently assigned. Then I would have your help in sorting through them and seeing if we might avoid happenstances like what occured during fall yesterday. Do eat first, however." She waves at an empty seat at the table right in front of the head table. Then, looking around again, she spots Ryott this time. "Oh and catch your fellow candidate over there for me would you? Send her this way. That will be all for the moment thank you."

And when it comes to being utilitarian, Ulrika is definitely at the top of the list. The orders are given and met with a curt, professional, "Yes, Ma'am, understood," along with a dip of her head in lieu of a salute. She turns on a heel and ventures over to Ryott's table, with a tip of her head in Treista's direction. "Weyrwoman Treista wants to speak with you," is offered in matter-of-fact delivery before she returns to the indicated seat at the table in front of the head table. She doesn't hesitate, though; she's always been a quick eater by nature and, with some help from a flamboyant blue, she's able to get her relatively small meal down in a few minutes. The blue firelizard is dismissed and, somehow, replaced with a polka-dotted bronze who takes the scraps for his meal, only to flutter off a few moments later to do Faranth-knows-what.

Huh? Ryott has to blink a few times at Ulrika to catch what the much taller candidate is relaying to her. But when it does sink in, her gaze takes on a decidedly stormy quality as her thick brows drop lower over them. But She still has to play the part, and that means rising when summoned and ambling, with klah mug still in hand, towards the junior weyrwoman. Once at the high table, she switches her mug to one hand and manages a passable salute with the other. "Yes Ma'am?" she asks stone-faced, before taking another thoughtful sip of her beverage.

Treista , having dismissed Ulrika for the moment, and hoping she makes that run to the archives as soon as she's done, moves her full attention over to Ryott, who gets the full bore of her steely blue gaze. "I have a task for you as well, Ulrika will need help bringing back the records I asked for. And I shall need help sifting through them, so I want both of you on that as soon as you get back here. I will have other matters to attend to soon and won't be able to stay the duration. I'm trusting you both with important work. But, I want to know that you'll be here when I return?" Don't think all of Ryott's sluething has been unnoticed, some of it certainly has.

R'zel enters the living cavern, his leathers wet from the rain outside. He is a man on a mission, and his target is - klah! He has a smiling word with one of the women serving, who reaches behind the serving table and produces a particularly large mug with an interesting blue and green glaze. Once he has that, filled, hot and steaming, he looks round for somewhere to sit, and spots Treista talking to the candidates. Smiling, he walks across and nods a greeting to all. "Good morning!" Then he tells Treista, "Verokanth's just heading for the Sands. If Yorprith wants, he can hunt for her in a bit."

She is dutiful, above all else, and Ulrika's definitely gone as soon as her meal's finished and her dirty plate deposited with the rest of the dirty dishes. No point in making another Candidate have to work harder than they have to, after all. Don't mind her; she'll be gone for a little bit to explore the archives and get the requested files.

Keeping her features to somewhere between neutral and bored, Ryott listens to the task that the weyrwoman has for her. She definitely has to fight her urge to roll her eyes when assigned alongside Ulrika…again. She could not escape the guard-candidate and her entirely too eager to please self it seemed no matter what she did. But in response all Treista will get are curt nods of her head, and maybe a slightly noticeable tenseness to the girl's shoulders when the older woman calls her out on her frequent disapearing acts. "Of course I will Ma'am, until the job is done." Her flat tone isn't very reassuring, but there is a note of being resigned to her fate in there as well, so maybe there is hope. Then she sees Ulrika taking her leave out of the corner of her eye, and so Ryott follows after, at her own pace, and still nursing that cup of klah the whole way to the archives.

Treista keeps eye contact with ryott while she speaks and while the girl seemingly becomes resigned to her task, and then she watches her out of the corners of her eyes as she leaves. Only then is poor R'zel looked at and acknowledged, but she had to be sure. R'zel's good mood is refreshing, considering the somber note to the morning, what with Va'os being injured and a death during the night, and it pulls a smile from Treista herself, who has been mostly scowls this morning. "I'm sure Yorprith would be eternally grateful." She answers in response. She picks up her klah mug then to take a sip and is greeted with bitter and cold. There's a pinched look to her face when she moves to dump the drink, which had essentially turned to tar, and refresh it. "How's morale in the wings this morning?"

That takes the smile from R'zel's face. "It's not a good day, especially after what happened in the night." Dragons keening, as another pair succumb to Thread's assaults. He wraps his fingers round that large mug. "Everyone's tired, and so many wings have injuries. I gave Ocelot a morning off drill; I don't want to over-fly the dragons today. We'll do something gentle later on to keep us all focused. But I was in the Infirmary earlier; our injured rider's going to make it, so that's good news." He actually looks rather tired.

Treista nods, and there goes the happy. Dammit Treista, just bringing the mood down everywhere this morning. Sighing heavily, the woman dumps a fair amound of sweetener into her mug and moves back to the head table where the morning's reports are then stacked into a neat pile. "Everyone is more than tired, but I hear you. Perhaps you should have given them the whole day. I know it's important to keep sharp, but I think the wings need a day to recouperate."

The adventure in the archives isn't terrible. For her part, Ulrika is pretty quick about finding the records in question. It's entirely possible that, by the time Ryott joins her, the majority of the files have been found (with help from the archivists on duty, of course), but any help the other Candidate can provide is appreciated, as ever. For as much as the Igenite seems to despise working with the former guard, the blonde Candidate is - at the very least - civil and neutral. The stacks are evenly divided and, taking her stack, Ulrika eventually returns to the living caverns. R'zel is spotted upon her return and there's a firm nod and a "Morning, Sir," in lieu of a salute - for obvious reasons. And then it's back to Treista, the files offered up with, "Where would you like us to work on these?"

R'zel steps back as the candidates arrive, to give them space and avoid any risk from his klah. He's got enough harper left in him to treat documents with respect! "Good morning! It looks as if you've got a research project there." He eyes the deposited hides curiously. "Are those Fall records? Do you mind if I ask what you're looking for? I can't resist that sort of digging in the records." Which is true: he's fond of tabulating obscure facts.

Treista nods. "Aye they do have a research project. Looking up and tracking the thread patterns and how our wings can better fill the gaps or meneauver to manage them better." Treista looks at the stacks of hides with a keen eye and nods. "And R'zel, since you so kindly offered up your love for records sifting, would you mind keeping an eye on these two? I have a couple of things I must attend to before I can park here." And she's more telling than asking, but she'll wait for the Wingleader's response before leaving, so as not to be rude.

There's a ghost of a smile for R'zel at his curiosity, though Ulrika remains silent while Treista explains. She sets the hidework down and starts to sort it, indicating which stacks are which so Ryott can do the same and keep everything straight. At the bottom of her stack is even a separate pile of blank hides to do the tabulations and notes on. "It's not easy stuff to make sense of at first," she admits. "Any help would be appreciated, Sir." There's a flicked look to Ryott, too, to see how she's faring with all of that, but she's quick to return to the task that's immediately at hand. She's no Harper and it shows, but she can read, even if the particulars of what she's looking at aren't entirely obvious to the untrained. When Treista leaves, though, there's a nod in her direction and a "Be well, Weyrwoman."

Ryott is following along at least somewhat dutifully, or the closest thing the pint-sized misanthrope can must in any case. She may not be quite so careful with the hides as she puts them down with Ulrika's, her arms just giving out at one point and dropping the stack onto the table with a loud thud. To get the feeling back into her arms, she shakes her useless arms against her sides, giving the Ocelot Wingleader a polite bob of her head. A salute will have to wait until she can lift her arms again. When the junior weyrwoman makes her departure, the Igenite girl tries to get the measure of R'zel, someone she has yet to meet officially although she's seen him around.

"Actually, I've got some analyses of my own, that I did a turn or so ago," R'zel says, frowning slightly in thought. "But a fresh set of eyes and brains is always useful, and maybe I can explain anything in the records that the candidates don't understand. Clear skies, weyrwoman." When Treista has gone, he turns to the two candidates. "So what have you been asked to look for? Fall density, wind speed and direction, other weather, formations used, casualties, burrows….?" He halts the list of possible factors and outcomes there, looking from one candidate to the other, his eyes settling on Ryott. "Oh, and I know Ulrika, but please do tell me who you are."

That revelation draws a glance askance from Ulrika, but she answers the litany of questions with, "She asked specifically for the reports and flight charts and groundcrew lists, but the instructions were… unclear past that. She just wanted us to find some means of avoiding or planning for similar incidents, I believe. Perhaps the weather charts might have been helpful as well…" she trails off after catching that suggestion, though some of the charts surely have that information on them. But more detailed information couldn't hurt. While he turns his attention to Ryott, she continues, trying to piece together and organize some of the charts in a way that makes some kind of sense. "If you already have analyses, Sir, that would probably help a lot. It would give us something to work from."

The charts and reports may as well be written in a comepletely different language as far as Ryott's concerned, her head tilting curiously to one side and then the other as if the change in perspective might help. Sadly, it does not. "I was just told to help her," Ryott admits dryly as she points in Ulrika's direction, having missed the part of the conversation where Treista had laid out what she wanted done. But then she realizes the bronzerider is asking for her name, so she lifts a hand to salute him with only a mild shakiness remaining in her arm, "Ryott, Sir." she answers him succintly.

R'zel nods slowly as Ulrika explains, then returns Ryott's salute before looking back to the guard-candidate. She seems to be the one who got the briefing, after all. "So when you say, 'similar incidents,' similar to what? Is there a specific question that you're trying to answer? If you're looking at groundcrew, I don't have anything on that, but if it's events in the air, I could bring down the tables I've done about formations and so on. They're not totally up to day, but still." He grins at Ryott. "I'm sure there'll be plenty to do for both of you."

"My apologies, Sir. She said similar to what happened yesterday. I'm presuming in the air, Sir." Ulrika's expression darkens a little, but she shakes it off a moment later. Whatever thought crossed the guard-Candidate's mind, it isn't worthy of mention in the moment. Instead: "If it's not too much trouble, Sir, would you mind getting those? I think, once we see what you have, that we can make better sense of all of this. And, maybe, we can update your analyses as well." It's an awfully optimistic 'we', to be fair; though she might glance at Ryott throughout, it's always in the way of one that expects the other Candidate to be gone in the blink of an eye. All the same, she'll continue to do what she can with what's there - until the task is done or Treista returns or curfew arrives, whichever happens first.

Oh Ryott will stick around. She told the weyrwoman she wouldn't be here when she returned, and the Igenite girl honestly doesn't want to deal with the epic lecture she is sure Treista would treat her to, so staying she will be. Hovering just close enough to be almost annoying and offering her own flavor of borderline non-helpful advice as she tries to makes heads or tails of what's being asked of them. But there will be actual effort…not a whole lot, but some. And when the junior weyrwoman returns, she will most definitely find Ryott still there.

"I think there were some burrows, too, and ground crew won't affect what happens in the air," R'zel says, obviously not convinced. "But yes, I can get them. It may not be immediately, though; they're in my weyr and Verokanth's on the Sands. I'll have to see if I can pry him away from Yorprith and the eggs for a few minutes, or find a weyrling on elevator duty. He's taking his paternal duties very seriously." With a grin, he adds, "I'll back as soon as I can!" Taking his klah mug with him, he heads towards the door.

Add a New Comment