Divale, R'xim


R'xim has plans for Divale and… she accepts.



Guardhouse, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 13 Nov 2017 05:00




What was once nigh-obsolete has been wrought anew in understated radiance: Igen Weyr's guardhouse has always been a weathered thing, but now the two-storied building shines with a little more gloss than the dilapidation of yore. Gutted and refit with a brighter interior, new wood lends itself to a staircase upward to the guard quarters and to long, functionally-assertive desks that sweep behind the main focus of the room. Determinedly upright, the entrance desk allows the one on shift full sight of the room, and requires all comers to submit in lowered-height submission against the glory of the rough-shined skybroom.

A few months seems like an eternity when it comes to managing wing duties and administrative tasks while short staffed. R’xim is currently seated at his desk in the office he shares with the guard captain and is staring at a mountain of hidework that’s piled up since Naomi stepped down. Eala has done a tremendous job keeping her half of the workload up to date while he… hasn’t really contributed much at all. Reports have back up, meetings have been rescheduled. He loathes the tedious filing that needs to be done. However, there is an end in sight and she’s about to walk through that door at any given moment.

And if that ‘she’ had any idea what she was about to walk into? Well, isn’t it all just their lucky day that she doesn’t! Divale’s arrival to the Guardhouse is nothing but routine. Her shift is finished and she returns with her Guard partner to see through the rest of affairs. Which, unfortunately, means another report for R’xim — a small mercy may be that it’s verbal? Pausing at the threshold to ‘knock’, Divale will wait on his answer before stepping inside. “A moment, sir?”

R’xim is pulled back to reality when a familiar voice breaks the silence in his office. His eyes lift to see Divale standing in the entryway and he clears his throat, straightening a bit in his chair as he does. “Yes, come in.” A hand reaches to collect a few hides strewn about the wooden surface of the desk while his other reaches for a stylus. “I was about to send for you.”

“If this is about Whekel,” Divale murmurs with a faint grimace of distaste. Obviously she’d have little love for one of Igen’s many regular drunks and no-goods who routinely are collected up. “It’s already been taken care of.” Her head tilts a bit, towards the brig. “In his usual cell to sleep it off.” No doubt dragged here with the help of the Guard she was paired with tonight. Still, an invitation is an invitation and she will step into the space that R’xim calls his office. Now the piled reports and hidework are given a cursory glance, but her focus is more on him than anything else. Suspicious, if not downright wary — their conversations generally have a bad habit of going south very fast after all. “Unless,” she ventures carefully. “… this is about something else?”

Ah, yes. Igen has many frequent visitors to the brig and most of Parhelion is on a first name basis with them. “Whekel can fuck off.” R’xim grumbles under his breath while continuing to search for one specific hide on the desk. “Oscar can, too. I brought him in yesterday afternoon.” He then glances over at Divale, “I hope you put them in separate cells.” The last thing the guards need is a brawl and he’s too busy looking for this damn hide to break anything up at the moment. “This is about a new assignment that I have for you.”

Brows lift for the rather surly, if not wholly unsurprising, reply and Divale’s mouth quirks in the faintest of smirks. “As much as I’d enjoy seeing them take each other down… Yes, they are separated. Farthest cells from each other.” And likely not even aware they have other cellmates with them. If there’s to be a shouting quarrel later, both R’xim and Divale will be long gone. For now, she settles herself in one of the empty chairs and as he cuts straight to the chase, she’ll give him her full attention. “And what would that be?” she remarks in a slightly dry tone, before belatedly correcting it with a quick: “Sir.” Likely her mind is already thinking it’s merely her resuming her duties with the Guards training with the canines.

“Good.” R’xim grumbles yet again while he paws around for— aha! There’s the hide that he’s been searching for within the mess upon the desk. He takes a moment to eye it over, reading the text for anything that he might’ve left out after Eala scribed a copy for him. “You will no longer train with the canine unit after this day as I am giving you a new knot.” A promotion, in fact. Naomi’s former knot is then removed from a drawer, placed upon the desk, and slid over a few hides toward Divale. “Wingsecond.” Now he looks at the brownrider as he retracts his hand from the knot sitting in front of her and waits for a reaction, good or bad.

For a brief moment, Divale’s expression darkens like falling shadow at the words ‘new knot’. Again, her mind jumps to conclusions that it’s an entirely new knot — as in she’s been removed from Parhelion, as was nearly the case not so long ago. Temptation rises to protest, a subtle shift of tension in her posture that was never fully relaxed to begin with. Instead R’xim is setting that Wingsecond knot down on the desk. Leaning back slightly, Divale stares at the knot, then up to R’xim, with the same neutral but dubious look. Seriously? It’s not a bad reaction (yet), though the idea of simply rising and laughing her way out of the place does flicker across her mind. She licks at her lips, while trying to rapidly reorganize her thoughts. “Why me?” It’s an honest question and not full out rejection. She simply wants to know; and maybe suspects there’s a catch here. “There are better riders who’ve served under you for Turns.”

“Why not?” R’xim counters with a slightly narrowed brow. He stares at Divale sitting across from him and leans back in his chair for a moment, considering her reaction. Truthfully, he does have a reason for promoting her. Call it punishment. Payback. Loosening the grudge he’s been carrying just a tad. No matter what it’s defined as, keeping Divale under a closer watch will help him keep an eye on both she and Eala at the same time. “All of the extra assignments and duties haven’t been just to keep you busy and out of my hair.” Once upon a time, the tasks were meant to train. To groom. He leans forward as if to grab the knot from the desk. “But, if you’re not interested…”

Divale can think of many reasons to counter back to R’xim’s challenge and almost voices a few before (wisely?) shutting her mouth. Brows furrow and her eyes narrow briefly as she continues to stare at him; uncertain for sure but that can be chalked up for various reasons too. His explanation brings a slight ease of the tension in her posture and her expression begins to slip back to that neutral mask. Only when he leans forwards does she emulate the motion, reaching out to deftly slide the knot away and avoiding an awkward collision of their hands by being a mere fraction of a second faster. “Never said I wasn’t,” she murmurs dryly, finally breaking her gaze to glance down at the woven knot in her hands. “Just a bit… surprised.” Understatement. Clearly there’s more at work inside that head of hers, but she’s guarding her words.

R’xim smirks as Divale reaches out to snatch the knot before he can get to it, which leaves him slightly relieved that she actually wants to work as his wingsecond. He straightens and slides the hide that he was previously searching for in front of him to sign in a moment. “I’m glad to hear it.” There is truth in those words, even if it is masked by a smug tone. “There will be a few more changes to your schedule. If you choose to pin that knot on your shoulder, you will no longer hold the rank of a dragonhealer and you, as I previously stated, will no longer train with the canine unit. Instead,” he glances over at Divale to gauge her reaction. “You’ll have administrative duties that you’ll share with Eala. You’ll also lead PT whenever I am unable to.” But, wait! There’s more~ “And should anything happen to me during Threadfall, Eala will take over as acting wingleader.” Just like he told Naomi when she was moving up as wingsecond. “Do you accept?”

Divale continues to weave the knot through her fingers in a slow, contemplative manner. Her brows remain furrowed and her gaze downturned while R’xim speaks. She’s not ignoring him, rather letting his continued words absorb into her already churning thoughts. There’s a slow, quiet inhale and she looks up, her usual vague smirk back in play upon her features. “It isn’t as though I cannot return to dragonhealing if I wish to, someday.” So that comes as no surprise that her priorities will change; question is, is she ready to shoulder (ha ha) all this responsibility? She scoffs, “Good.” On Eala taking charge should R’xim fall in the line of duty. And? “Yes. I accept.”

“Excellent.” R’xim says while signing his name to the hide. “Then I will personally submit this document to the Weyrleader right now.” Rising from his seat, Rix slips the hide into a folder and then motions to the messy side of the desk. “Your first official assignment is to organize these hides.” A beat, “Your second is to assume the role as head investigator to the current case involving whatever illness is plaguing the infirmary. I expect daily progress reports to be on my organized desk every morning.” He’s certainly not going to deal with all the vomit surrounding said mysterious random plague, nor is he going to keep a tidy desk. The assignment is probably another form of ‘punishment’ for his newly minted wingsecond anyway. R’xim carries the folder with him as he walks toward the doorway and ticks a salute at the brownrider while passing by. “Welcome to the ranks, Divale.” The tone? Smug. His smirk? Even more so as he exits the guard house.

Divale’s gaze settles on those hides and she’ll bite back a long suffering sigh. Of course he’d start her off with the dull work! By the end of it, she may be tempted to toss some into the hearth fire and claim it was an accident… Is R’xim sure he’s made the right choice? His second order is met with a shadowed look and her mouth pressed into a thinner line. “Understood.” Though even as Wingsecond, her investigating can only go so far; not that she isn’t afraid to toe a few lines and push a few boundaries but she is cautious all the same. This will take considerable adjustment, as she’s on a different playing field now. As for the Infirmary? It’s not like she hasn’t seen or handled worse. “Thank you.” Dry, dry, dry delivery and maybe an implied rude gesture (she’s thinking it!) but there’s a hint of a smile there too. Maybe they won’t end up at each other's throats? Folk can start their wagering! Once R’xim is gone, Divale will set to work but not before she slips the new Wingsecond knot into place. Much later, the ramifications of what she’s done will have time to settle and gnaw at her thoughts.

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