Logs:A Decision
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| RL Date: 6 August, 2016 |
| Who: Alysce, Quint |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Alysce finally makes a decision, though the manner in which she conveys it isn't well received. |
| Where: Quint's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 6, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: T'zur/Mentions |
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| Afternoon classes consisted of a very excitable bunch of children on a field trip to Nabol Hold for an in-person history lesson -- both the Journeymen and the riders accompanying the group seem relieved when the children are back in the care of their nannies and families. Quint's taking it easy, as a result, and while normally hanging out in the crafter's lounge, tonight he's lounging on his bed, back against the wall, strumming on the gitar. His shirt's partway unbuttoned at the collar, practically messy for the normally pristine harper. There is a knock on Quint's door, but it certainly isn't enough of a warning before Alysce is spilling in through the door. She is still clad in only her red swimsuit, her skin darker than the last time the Journeyman saw her, which was certainly a much better use of her time than trips to Nabol. Whatever her intent, there is a moment when this intimate picture stops her short, but she quickly spills out before Quint can interrupt, "I was just searched, by a bronzerider." It's one thing to have your apprentice bust into your room at night; it's quite another when she's wearing hardly anything and sprouting a surprise at you. Quint stares at Alysce levelly for a moment. "Did the bronzerider prevent you putting on clothes, or did you simply lose your common sense, apprentice?" his use of her title is deliberate, as he sets his gitar carefully aside on the bed before standing. Surprise flickers across Alysce's expression in turn, followed quickly by a sharp annoyance as she questions dryly, "Seriously, Quint? Are you seriously going to do that right now?" She remains at the door, fingers wrapped around the knob and only tightening now as she stares down her Journeyman in return. Clasping his hands behind his back, Quint regards Alysce with only a slight flicker of expression -- frustration, perhaps -- before it's gone. "You are standing in my private quarters, and were presumably witnessed by others wearing very little while rushing in to doing so. I feel like right now utilizing your title is more than appropriate, don't you?" Alysce's lips press into a tight line, her dark eyes narrowing on Quint with her own frustration more openly on display. Perhaps that's what spurs her to say flatly, "Well, apprentice isn't my title now, is it? Candidate would be more appropriate." "That's your decision then... candidate?" Quint lilts the title, head tipping to one side. His expression is deliberately neutral, the sort of posture he adopts when generally when dealing with negotiations, frustrating children, and Lord Holders alike. "That's my decision, Quint," answers Alysce with a sharper tone, her gaze sweeping over Quint before she turns on her heel to leave his room. At least she doesn't slam the door behind her? All she gets in reward for her look is Quint's neutral expression, a steeled posture, and a silent nod by way of non-verbal response. |
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