Logs:Hypothetically an Underling
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| RL Date: 27 March, 2015 |
| Who: K'zin, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin has a preliminary meeting with his new boss. |
| Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 5, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, J'vain/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'qui/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Zadkiel/Mentions |
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>---< Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr >---------------------------< Made private by a thick, insulated door that blocks out most of the noise from the barracks beyond, the weyrlingmaster's office is a comfortable, quiet alcove. Instead of an imposing desk, much of the room is taken up by a large round table, with five chairs spaced around its edges. Beneath it is a square rug pieced together from twisted rags that stretches from wall to wall, just barely leaving room for the long bookcases and filing cabinets. On the back wall, a geometric tapestry and blue and black is hung, providing both insulation and decoration. It's another cool, damp spring afternoon - but at least it's not presently raining. The door to Quinlys' office has been left open, leaving the bluerider a view out into the training cavern that she's not presently making the most of; instead, she's actually working for once, bent down over a stack of notes in a way that certainly appears diligent. An empty plate rests just to the left of her elbow, a mug further to the center of the table; by the looks of it, she's been here for some time. If there's one thing that K'zin learned as a not-an-assistant assistant during the last clutch's training it's to never arrive without food. He brings a plate from the kitchen and perhaps the smell of the roasted vegetables and mashed tubers or his bootfalls are the first thing to tip off the Weyrlingmaster to her company. He knocks on the door frame when he arrives, "Boss?" It's true: the way to Quinlys' heart is pretty much always through her stomach, whether it be via food or alcohol, and the smell of that food is definitely enough to draw her out of her reverie as K'zin approaches. She blinks a couple of times, as if to clear her head, then fixes those blue eyes of her onto the bronzerider; appraising. "Am I your boss?" she wonders, tartly, although there's a gesture with her left hand that clearly indicates that he should come on in, regardless. "F'manis has relinquished his claim on me," K'zin's tone is apologetic. "So I'm yours if you'll still have me. I brought you food," he adds quickly, lest she think it's not for her and he moves to trade the empty dishes for the clean ones, setting the empty ones aside elsewhere. It might be mistaken for mothering if K'zin were even a little bit maternal (and not so obviously Very Manly). Quinlys lets out a little huff of displeasure that is nonetheless ameliorated by both the food and the news. Her eyebrows raise as K'zin replaces her dishes, but she's quick to pick up a fork, and then, after a pause-- "Well, we should drink to that, shouldn't we? Better late than never. There's a crate, out in the training cavern." The purse of her mouth suggests she's not wholly thrilled about that, and yet... "I could be mistaken, but I think heavy lifting is in my job description here. Though I could use a review of the details of the rest." K'zin has a grin for her before he vanishes back the way he came. Probably, he thought he was expected to bring the whole crate, but seeing as it's open already, he brings only a bottle. "Fancy," he remarks upon his return. "Corkscrew?" 'Heavy lifting' draws a pause from Quinlys, but then a smirk, too; in either case, she's busy filling her mouth with food. When K'zin returns, she's still chewing, but she waves her hand towards the filing cabinet, indicating - vaguely - the bottom drawer. That's the one where she keeps her whiskey bottle; there are also some glasses and a corkscrew, all prepared. "I have no idea who we owe that beneficence to, and frankly, I don't trust it... but good wine is good wine," she says, as she swallows. K'zin didn't find the corkscrew too fast once it was confirmed that that's still where she keeps it did he? Hopefully not. He and Tela have never had drinks unbeknownst to Quinlys. Never. In any case, the bottle gets opened in short order after that and he produces the glasses, placing them out. "Are we supposed to let this stuff breathe?" He asks, no connoisseur himself, evidently. "Want me to ask around?" He offers. "Lotta people seem to want to talk to me these days. Check and see how my nose healed." (Quite nicely!) Luckily for K'zin, Quinlys is more interested in her food than timing corkscrew location; anyway, as long as private drinks haven't involved other private activities... well. "Would you? Your first official duty as my assistant. Aside from this, I mean." As for breathing? She shrugs. "I never could taste the difference," she admits. "Just pour." He pours. Clearly, whoever sent it was should've just done half-way decent whiskey and saved their marks. K'zin slides a glass to the Weyrlingmaster before taking his and seating himself. "Yeah," of course he would. "You should probably tell me how I'm supposed to be behaving. I've already got three apology letters I don't know how to write, and I don't need to end up adding one to you over all this Igen mess." Quinlys accepts the glass, wrapping her fingers around it as she lifts her gaze from her food in order to consider K'zin. "Can't you just be... I don't know, vague? 'I apologise for my actions and will endeavour to do better in future' or whatever?" She admits, a moment later, "Pretty sure I'm in trouble, too, if it helps. But apology letters are definitely not my style." She pauses, sipping from her glass before adding, "Anyway, I mean, theoretically, you're supposed to be a role model for these weyrlings, demonstrating appropriate behaviours and blah blah blah." "I don't know," K'zin hedges thoughtfully, "I'm pretty sure K'del is pretty pissed with me. He was pissed at me before that, and then that, so I feel like I should at least give it a real go. And I tried when I wrote the one to the Fortians over Elaruth's closed flight, so it's not like he doesn't know when I'm not trying." Darn his good behavior then! "I'm also not sure I like the idea that I might actually be apologizing from Searching Zadkiel from Igen." He adds, sipping after. "What're you in trouble for?" The bronzerider can't resist asking, curious gaze finding her over the edge of his glass. "He'll probably be more pissed if you delay forever," points out Quinlys, though it's a little hypocritical of her; it's not as though apologies are her strong suit. Leaning back, now, her plate abandoned so that she can focus on the wine, she adds, "My family staged a whole intervention thing, warning me that I'll probably get fired if I don't toe the line. Just because N'qui caught me telling people they shouldn't Stand for the clutch." They're being so unfair. K'zin's brows leap and it puckers his forehead intensely, "An intervention, really?" The brunette shakes his head. "Same old N'qui, I guess. Tattletale then, tattletale now." He offers Quinlys supportive smile despite the humor in his tone. "That's true, about K'del, but I'm supposed to be doing these 'conflict resolution and emotional intelligence' classes with H'vier and one of the harpers, but our schedules haven't meshed up yet, so I think I can put it off until they start, at least, so I can have more, you know, emotional maturity or whatever, when I apologize." That's good, right? K'zin sips on his glass. "I'd like to talk to Irianke about it is what I'd like to do, before writing anything down." He frowns. "I'm not sure it'd go well though, might just make everyone more pissed without trying." It must be said that he has a knack for that at times. Quinlys makes a face: exactly. Same old N'qui. "Seriously? Ugh." Quinlys' opinion of this particular punishment is pretty apparent, especially when she rolls her eyes, but she manages - this time - not to go on a tirade. Irianke, too, does not exactly earn her approval; "I'd tread carefully with her," she adds. She glances at her wine, giving it a moody glance. "You know? Just... don't argue too much. Expects respect, from what I hear." K'zin gives a nod, "She met me at an awkward time. Before the flight." He makes a face, but doesn't seem inclined to elaborate. "I'll try not to piss anyone else off or anyone off worse if that's your official unofficial position, but I don't like the idea of sending any of our pairs away, especially if we're not offered the option of Searching from Igen." At least he's honest, but Quinlys might already have guessed as much from his previous behavior. Quinlys uses her free hand to scrub at her face, sighing. "I hate it, you know? Hate it. I don't want to send anyone off. I don't like this decision, and I don't care who knows it. But," and this is the tricky bit, "I don't want to lose my job. So I will shut up and do what I have to." If she can manage it. "But it doesn't mean I'll like Irianke any better, or have any respect for our Weyrleaders." She takes a relatively angry drink from her glass; it's probably a good thing she doesn't know where the wine came from. "So," K'zin take it all in, what she has to say and thinks, "If I were to behave in a way that was questionable, but not outright challenging of the people who could make you take my knot away, you'd see I was appropriately punished?" A pause, as Quinlys works through this train of logic. "Yes," she says, finally. "Just like I've gone out of my way to publicly offer people the opportunity of Search." Even if she hasn't been enthusiastic about it. "But..." Punishments vary. "Oh, I'm sure you can get creative with your public punishments. Telavi probably would have great ideas," K'zin points out with a grin. "I'm not saying I'm going to, of course. This is all... hypothetical." That's safe, right? "So what else can I do for you, boss? Is it mostly going to be shadowing in the beginning? The basics?" Quinlys's smug smirk is back, if only briefly; creative punishments are certainly a possibility. But then she's glancing back at her wine, and then, setting the glass down upon the table. She cracks her knuckles. "Shadowing, yes. Telavi and J'vain and I will give you some training in the next few weeks, which will help. Beyond that... you learn as you go. A lot of it, especially early on, is giving advice. Helping out. Suggestions. That kind of thing. The actual lessons come later, and we won't expect you to lead them to begin with." K'zin gives a bob of his head. "I've been doing reading in the records. The resources for weyrlingmasters." Probably before he was given the knot. there's a brief pause before he squares his shoulders and looks directly at the redhead. "I just want you to know, I really appreciate this opportunity. I'm going to do my best not to fuck it up. Or suck." He's 100% serious. Oh, that seriousness. Quinlys is helpless in the face of it - helpless to do anything but laugh, merrily. "Oh, K'zin," she says, sounding almost-- almost-- fond as she does so. "You're adorable. I know you will. Now drink up, and then got lost. I've things to do, and we don't have a team meeting until tomorrow." Quinlys can't say he was disobedient - not just now, anyway. K'zin downs the wine like it was whiskey, popping onto his feet immediately after. "Yes, ma'am!" Of course, it can't be all serious since he winks at her, but he's gone before she can get creative with a punishment for that. |
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