Who

L'xan, Rielle

What

Rielle decides to check on the Weyrleader and ends up with a new knot for her trouble.

When

It is evening of the twenty-fifth day of the seventh month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Council Room, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 30 Jul 2017 06:00

 

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"So, according to this you've got something against K'vvan?"


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Council Room

Spacious, this room is cut from the same scale as the living caverns: vast and given to inspiring awe for those who enter. The floor is tiled in a shining cross-hatch of dark and light, an ironic chessboard setting for the looming and overlarge council table. Weathered it is, long and rectangular, with a matching sideboard twice again as long as it is. This is a room for meetings, for work, for decisions: such is evident by the hearth in the corner, and the always-fresh pot of klah.


The rain may have retreated but that doesn't mean that the hidework has. Especially for the guy with the big fancy knot. This evening finds L'xan settled at the head of the table, close to the hearth with a klah at his elbow and a whole stack of hides containing information that only he can act upon. Such is the super glamourous life of the Southern Weyrleader. With an exasperated sigh he pushes away the latest missive and massages the bridge of his nose while sipping from his mug.

It isn't often at all that Rielle finds herself in the War Room, but every now and then, both K'vvan and D'wane have too much going on to come grab a necessary hide or folio or whatever from the place. And because she's apparently someone trustworthy, she gets voluntold to go grab it every now and again. So there the teal-eyed brownrider is, perusing a shelf full of books with a LOT of annoyingly thin spines when she hears the exasperated sigh coming from the Council Room. Since it seems like there's only one person in there, she cautiously pokes her head in to spy L'xan. The Southern Weyrleader isn't a man she's spoken to much beyond a "good morning/afternoon/evening, sir," or "yes/no sir", staying generally off the radar among the many other wingriders…save for when her lifemate draws attention to them both. It happens sometimes. Regardless, lack of familiarity doesn't entail a lack of friendliness. "Anything I can get you, sir?" she asks, lips quirked in a sympathetically tilted smile. The amount of work a Weyrleader has is likely something she'll never have to endure, but she's certainly been in similar situations in times past.

"You could return to me my wasted youth and good cheer…" L'xan has apparently become rather used to hearing voices making offers he can't refuse. "Of course if that is too hard, a dozen nubile young ladies…" Wait the voice is female. "Scratch that! And not a word to my weyrmate." Because Selaine may be but small, but she is fierce. "Mostly I wish for the ability to unexplode a volcano." There is a hearty sigh for that. In otherwords, this is L'xan's long winded way of saying 'He's good'. "Anything I can help you with…?" He returns the favor with a curious tilt of one eyebrow. He should know everyone's name… but he doesn't :(

Gently angled brows lift in rueful amusement above the blue-green eyes that peer around the edge of the door. Then next has her biting her tongue to stifle a laugh, though she can't quite contain a soft snort. "My lips are sealed, sir," she assures L'xan as she comes into full-bodied view, hands clasped at her back. She hasn't met Selaine yet so wouldn't know who to tell anyway…but she'd probably like her. Mention of the volcano has her otherwise good-natured expression falling into a subtle frown. "Pern will do what it will and drag us right along with it. No special perks, even for Weyrleaders," she notes with chagrin. At the trailed-off prompt, Rielle snaps off a salute - a quick one, since she's sensing there's not a ton of formality needed or wanted at the moment. "Rielle, sir. Brown Obhaeroth's, with Ocelot. I was just looking for a folio for my wingleader, so no, I'm fine. Just thought I'd check and make sure someone wasn't about to put a fist through the table in here, that's all."

L'xan frowns almost immediately after hearing her name and the name of her lifemate… "Rielle… Rielle…Rielle… Hang on a moment. I think I've just…" And there his thick hands go for a rummage through the stacks of hide before him. "I just read your name. Surprisingly, on something K'vvan wrote…" Shuffleshuffleshuffle rummagerummagerummage. "I'm not really built to accept that. The whole 'You can't stop nature.'" Of course it helps to be Blooded, tall and well built to develop that kind of mindset. But he continues to rummage, his frown that of someone struggling to remember, rather than someone who remembers too well. "Come in! Sit! I may be a while."

Well, that certainly has Rielle pausing still a moment. Teal eyes widen a fraction as she considers why in the world she might be mentioned in something that's gotten in front of the Weyrleader's eyes, other than a wing report. "Oh?" She's not going to ask if she or Obhaeroth have done something wrong, since she can't for the life of her think of what that could have been. Obe's usual antics are harmless enough, after all. "Well," she says to the topic of nature as she finally processes being invited to sit and does so, "the trouble is we're part of nature, so it's a bit like fighting fire with fire. We can't stop it, but we can use it." How they might use the eruption isn't something she's really pondered lately, being occupied with plenty herself that doesn't directly involve it…but she might think of something, given a reason. "Just a principle that's stuck with me as a Healer."

L'xan pauses in his rummaging to blink at Rielle. Blinkblink. Blinkblink. "According to some of those refugees… I started it." He admits in a near whisper. "The volcano… everything." A hand disengages from the search to indicate the jungle at large. "By that logic I should be able to stop it too." He was never a healer, or anything productive beyond his life as a rider. Anyway eventually he finds the hide he was looking for, and he starts to skim. With a snort he observes: "You can picture exactly where that greenrider would swear if it wasn't an offical report." But the contents will remain mysteriously mysterious for a little while longer as he gives the brownrider an appraising going over.

Rielle stares at the Weyrleader after that bit of news, brows furled. "That's…insane. Bloody shells, some of the logic I hear coming out of the people who've been running amok in the jungles is enough to give me a seven's worth of migraines." It might be a bit harsh, putting it that way, but she's incensed on L'xan's behalf. "I understand they're afraid and angry and such, but…Faranth." Then L'xan has found his paper and she finds herself quietly waiting, a brow lifting again at the Weyrleader's words. "Aye," she says with a chuckle, "though I have to say, if you can tell where he'd swear and I'm mentioned in it, I'm not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing." She presently finds herself being scrutinized, long enough that there ends up being a smidge of impatience mixed in with her curiosity, a questioning little tilt of her head given as she returns L'xan's gaze.

L'xan has his own brand of jack-assery, which he is indulging in right now. It's certainly more entertaining than any of the hides he has before him. Well maybe the one in his hands is the exception. "So, according to this you've got something against K'vvan?" The question is light, even as his own light eyes returns that return gaze, serious despite the lightness of his tone. "Or am I completely misinterpretting your continual refusal to take on the role of his wingsecond?" There is a purpose! Halleujah! "Could it be you're holding out for something more?" His tone grows sly for a moment before he snorts. "I will warn you, they'll start thinking the sun shines out of your ass… or you can cause volcanoes or other madness… that is if that's what you want." L'xan shrugs, he's just a simple boy, look at the way he's casually crossing his ankles on that other chair.

Rielle abruptly straightens, looking for a moment as though someone just dropped ice down the back of her tunic. "What?" Then a couple of things process in short order, and she sits forward, eyes snapping with an odd mixture of amusement and irritation - something only a few people can manage to stir up in her, with K'vvan being one of them. "First of all, he's never actually asked me. Or shoved the knot at me and said 'take it', which I hear he's done on occasion. I've had nothing to actually refuse. Secondly, is that really what he said in there?" She has a suspicion. "As for rank, I haven't been holding out for anything, but I'm not opposed to the idea. I wing-led as a weyrling and was an assistant weyrlingmaster briefly, so I'm comfortable going wherever I'm needed and confident in what Obhaeroth and I can do." She sits back a bit, slender shoulders hitching in a small shrug. "If K'vvan needs another wingsecond, all he needs to do is say so."

"I should probably make a note to talk to him…" But L'xan does nothing of the sort, and will probably forget by the time this interview is over. "What do you know of the wing Serval?" Eventually he'll tie this all together, but for the moment it amuses him to fling seemingly random questions at this latest fan of his. (He's a bronze rider, he knows he is awesome! It cannot be denied.)

The fact that L'xan doesn't actually make a note amuses Rielle further, aside from adding to her suspicion that not all in that missive is what it seems. Maybe she'll never know. She doesn't care; it may give her something to tease K'vvan with later. As for L'xan and his awesomeness…Rielle hasn't decided yet. But he has asked her a question that seems out of left field at first glance. "Serval? Lower flight, always seems to be spoken well of. I have some friends there. Away from Thread, I'd heard they'd taken up the task of procuring rare and quality supplies for the Crafters, especially things more readily found up North than down here. And…they've been without official leadership for a while." A brow lifts again, the connection to the previous conversation becoming clear.

Nooo~! L'xan is being clever! Don't ruin it for him. "Yes. And even the unofficial leadership is abandoning ship…so to speak. Apparently she's found herself a lovely Fortian weyrmate." He sighs, he's a big sucker for that star-crossed lovers thing. "So I was kind of hoping you did have a thing against K'vvan, so I could just shove you in there and wash my hands of it." He lets forth a big gusty sigh. "But, alas. I'm going to have to ask or something aren't I?" Rielle is such a kill-joy. There is a little more rummaging through that monsterous pile of hides that he has before he pulls out what looks suspiciously like a pre-prepared Wingleader knot, complete with the amethyst and silver of Serval. "Rielle, rider of brown Obhaeroth would you do me the honor of…" He shakes his head. "Would you consider trying your hand at Wingleader for Serval. It's time they had a proper leader, and K'vvan really doesn't need any more people doing his work for him." Oh he see's what K'vv does there.

Of course K'vvan sending her to find that one folio at this EXACT moment isn't suspicious AT ALL.

Rielle, being a bit of a romantic herself, chuckles softly at the first bit of news. She shakes her head ruefully over the matter of K'vvan. "He's my friend aside from being my wingleader anyway. Somehow. And yes, you're going to have to. Or you could order me. Since you are my Weyrleader and all." She watches L'xan rummage, her heart starting to speed a bit even though she's certain she knows what's coming. And then, there it is…though the Weyrleader's initial phrasing has her biting the inside of her cheek, teal eyes glinting mirthfully. Clearing her throat a bit, she gives an inclination of her head and takes the knot, laying it across her palm and running her fingers over it once. "I won't consider, I'll do," she answers. "Thank you for trusting me with them, sir. We'll serve the Weyr well." And even though she still has a good amount of humor hanging around her expression, she means each word. Somewhere outside, Obhaeroth is being a lot less formal about all this. Probably over the lower bowl.

L'xan clearly is no stranger to twining the serious and not-so-serious together. "Good. I need someone who isn't completely crazy in those tedious meetings." There is M'noq… but it's complicated. "If you find anyone suitable for wingsecond let me know. Although from what I've heard there's a fair few dragon healers in the wing, so the duties are interesting." Above and beyond the whole 'find the best things' schtick. "If you've got any questions…I'd offer to help, but before my dragon got me into this mess, I just followed orders. Talk to K'vvan or M'noq or one of your other wingleaders." Advice he can give! "If you need someone to take the burden for a moment. I am findable for you." Of course he makes this very serious offer to all the wingleaders. He's got broad shoulders, and burden enough not to notice a little more. "Leadership has it's rewards… but it also comes with a price." That is something he's learned since he came to Southern Weyr.

"If I wind up completely crazy, I'll make sure you never know it, sir," Rielle quips with a wink. And then comes the things she'll need to get squared away in short order - wingsecond, a wing meeting, PT and drill schedule revamps if needed, etc. Faranth is she glad Zariel isn't a baby anymore…though she's definitely going to have to figure her schedule again in order to spend as much time as she currently does with her daughter. "Aye. I'm seeing that well and clear already," she says of leadership having a price, but she clearly isn't upset by it. She just has a lot to consider now. "I'll remember to talk if I need to. Thank you, sir." She stays sitting for the moment, taking a spell to trade out the knots on her shoulder before looking back to L'xan. "Is there anything else?"

"Oh plenty!" L'xan quips back. "We need to stop a volcano that has already changed the face of the jungle… find homes for a million refugees…Accost a Lord Warder with little to no evidence… And those twelve nubile ladies sound more attractive by the moment. Don't tell my weyrmate." He lists off his impossible tasks on those large fingers of his. "But for tonight, get some rest - celebrate if that's your thing. I'm going to go find my weyrmate to ask how she'd feel about living with eleven other ladies." Well part of that last is true, even as the bronzerider stands and gives his lazy salute. "Dismissed Wingleader Rielle."

Rielle huffs out a rueful sigh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Aye, well, one step at a time on all that," she says, fitting L'xan with a wry look for his last. "Better you tell her than me, o'course," she drawls. Selaine might assume she's one of those ladies or something. Rielle just DOESN'T KNOW. Standing after L'xan, she offers her own salute in turn. "Clear skies, Weyrleader," she counters, and strides back out that ever-fateful door. Maybe she will celebrate - at the Kitten, or with her daughter, or maybe she'll pay Va'os a visit. She'll decide as she walks. Right now, it's time to confer with her beloved brown.

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