Logs:A Transfer to Tundra
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2015 |
| Who: K'zin, R'vel, K'del/ST |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin asks new Wingleader R'vel for a transfer to Tundra. |
| Where: Smith Workroom, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
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>---< Smith Workroom, High Reaches Weyr >------------------------------------<
Although the forge is outside in the bowl, the weyr smiths do have a
workroom of their own indoors, designed for projects of a smaller nature.
It's not as large as some of the other workrooms, but it does have the
advantage of two narrow, glassed-in windows built into the far wall,
providing light that is adequately supplemented by a series of glows
attached to the walls. Against the right-hand wall, a small pump and basin
provides water, and a single hearth warmth.
Long workbenches sit flush against the rest of the walls, wide enough to
provide a generous working space. Storage is provided in the form of long
racks and shelves above the benches, upon which a collection of tools and
equipment have been carefully sorted. Even while serving as Snowdrift's Wingsecond, R'vel could often be found at the Weyr's forge, or in the workroom; it's a place of comfort and familiarity for a man who never truly abandoned the craft of his youth. This morning, there's steady snow falling inside, but the workroom itself is cozy, even if those glassed-in windows do let in some of the chill. The newly-minted Wingleader stands at one of the benches, polishing up a new set of strap buckles with a careful, industrious hand. It should come as no surprise to find K'zin meandering into the workroom for here and the forge provide much the same comfort and familiarity for the boy apprenticed to Smithcraft within his Weyr, the boy now grown to bronzeriderhood. What might be surprising is that K'zin comes with no project today, instead his eyes scan for someone in particular. Upon finding R'vel, he heads toward him, hands moving to open his riding jacket as he approaches. "Wingleader R'vel," isn't a sudden greeting, but rather one timed to allow the other man to take in his presence before K'zin speaks. It is oddly formal for this setting, but then, "May I have a moment of your time?" seems also an oddly formal request. R'vel's not worn that new knot for long enough that this new title doesn't go without pleasure, his mouth curving contentedly into a smile as, setting that buckle down, he turns towards the approaching bronzerider. "K'zin," he says by way of answer, carefully wiping his hands down upon the solid, work-ready canvas of his trousers. "What can I help you with?" The furtive look K'zin briefly gives around the workroom is probably to assess the likelihood of spies who might report his next words to a certain temperamental redhead before he has a chance to present them himself: "I'd like to transfer into Tundra." Quinlys' presence must be lurking here, somehow, because that's R'vel's first question: "And what will the weyrlingmaster threaten me with if I accept that?" He does, at least, follow it up with, "Not that I'm not interested. Not that I can't see why you would be. But." "Probably nothing worse than she will threaten me with or have her-assistant-slash-my-girlfriend threaten me with," K'zin counters with an attempt at a convincing smile. Just in case that's not convincing enough, he adds, "I've enjoyed being an assistant weyrlingmaster. I have. And I know there's this double clutch and it's a lot of weyrlings," clearly this argument has been had, "but I-- I never wanted to stop being a Smith. When I Stood it was because I didn't want to leave my home, not because I wanted to leave my craft. This wing, this opportunity--" He trails off what's becoming a passionate and no doubt lengthy argument to conclude with, "I'd kick myself if I didn't ask and then do everything I could to get you to take me up." R'vel picks up that buckle again, turning it over in his hands (though this, surely, adds fingerprints to what had been so very smooth and perfect) as he listens to K'zin, expression too neutral to give away his feelings on the subject. "So you're choosing what you want over what might be best for the Weyr, at this particular moment." Those words hit K'zin like a hit to the gut. He has to take a moment to collect himself from that crestfallen look. It's a steadying breath later that he says, "In the end, I don't get to choose. I get to ask. That's the way of it for people. Riders, crafters, probably Holders too. I get to ask, and the powers that be get to decide where I serve best. I think that's Tundra." "Aye," agrees R'vel, without skipping a beat. He's never been an especially emotive man; he certainly isn't, now. "That's the truth of it. Look... K'zin. The Weyrleader... the Weyrleaders want this venture to succeed. They've got plans. I'd certainly not oppose having you on board, and I'll make the request. It's more that I can't promise anything; it'll be up to K'del, and maybe to Quinlys, I don't know. Poaching directly from the wings is easier." K'zin bobs his head after a pause. Taking all that in. "Yes, sir." There's a few rapid blinks and then the bronzerider is rocking back. "I'll leave you to your work then, sir." He nods to the buckle. Normally, he might stay to ask about the buckles or other projects underway, but now, beating the retreat is probably for himself. True to his word, R'vel does put in that request, and although Quinlys' fury may be audible halfway around the Weyr, it's the greenrider who gets his way. Exactly why that is... well, that remains to be seen. |
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