Logs:Information Gathering
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, I'kris |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brieli and I'kris are both fans of gathering information. In different ways. |
| Where: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 13, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: It is a rare day of cloudless sunshine, though the temperatures are markedly colder. |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions |
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| Records Room, High Reaches Weyr Books. Scrolls. Bound hides. Maps. If it's a record pertaining to the Weyr, it's likely to be in this roughly oval room with its floor-to-ceiling cherrywood shelves, its multitude of slots for scrolls, and its wide drawers for materials that shouldn't be rolled up or folded. A scribe is usually on duty at the tall desk up front with its good view of the room, and is able to help visitors find what they're looking for via the big bound index on its rotating stand. Past the desk, several tables stand in neat rows for note-taking, each stocked with glowbaskets, scrap hide, paper and pencils. Additional lighting is provided by a many-armed wrought-iron light fixture, its glows gleaming through luxurious glass containers in fluted shapes instead of baskets. To one side of the room, a gap between two sets of shelves outlines where another set once stood, now replaced by a tapestry-covered aperture. Peeking behind the tapestry reveals another cavern, this one likewise full of shelves, but occupied by only a few boxes of older records and a somewhat musty air of disuse. As well, two narrow but solid doors are locked when the room is unattended and a discreet staircase provides direct access from the Weyrleaders' weyrs. The sun's shining, outside, and yesterday's snow is still looking pretty good - it's no wonder, then, that despite the bone-aching chill, much of the Weyr is out and enjoying themselves. Not so I'kris, who is making use of the relative emptiness of the records room to do some reading. The legs of his chair rock back off of the ground, but despite the apparent laziness of his pose, he seems genuinely intent on working through the enormous stack of ledgers and books surrounding him at his table. Brieli could be assumed to amongst those out enjoying themselves, for all she's visible initially in the records room - but apparently, she's been taking advantage of the lack of people herself, though without books or scrolls in arms, there's not much to indicate what precisely she's been doing. The only clue is dust that still clings to dark hair, fingers and clothes. She's quick enough about striding from the back of the room, but her clutchmate's presence demands some sort of response - she slows, all politeness, despite sharp gaze, "Are you finding things all right?" The guilt that flourishes in I'kris' expression the moment Brieli approaches can probably be put down to what he says, so hurriedly, a moment later: "Oh! Yes. It's not a problem for me to be in here, is it? Brieli." And then, after a beat's pause, "Or should I be calling you Junior Weyrwoman, now? I'm sorry." The legs of his chair hit the ground once more, and the book he's been holding so close to his face is closed with a thud, though he keeps holding it. It's only belatedly that he adds, "Shells. I didn't realise how dirty these records were... am I all dusty too?" Merely arching fine brows for that guilt, Brieli asks, "Would it be a problem for me to be in Monaco's records room? I wonder." Not that she's saying she has or hasn't been there, or if she considers I'kris' presence an issue. With a bit of a shrug, she offers dryly, "You were around for some of the most horribly embarrassing days of my life, I suppose you deserve some slack. But do show proper respect in the future." She's totally not serious, by the light in dark eyes, but it could be hard to tell. Brushing hand over her hair self-consciously, "Only some. You seem fine." "I'm sure Mirinda and Oriane would welcome you at any time," is I'kri's so-quick reply, verging on earnest in delivery. "I'm only trying to understand High Reaches better. We don't cover northern history in detail, down south, and it seemed... important." Given he uses firstnames for his own Weyrwomen, it's difficult to see in his expression whether he's taken Brieli's words at face-value or not; however he's read them, he doesn't seem inclined to keep that part of the conversation going. "You're not too dirty," he adds. "Don't worry." "It's nice that they are so welcoming. I don't often have the time to visit, but I do enjoy when I can." Brieli has a smile as quick as that reply, though - as with many things about her - it's still hard to read. As for I'kris and his research, "I did something similar when I first arrived. I didn't have the best grasp of history, myself. I hope you've had help, should you have needed it?" Though he's assured her of her lack of dirt, her fingers still comb through dark curls, even as she glances at the book in hand. "It gets everywhere, I find." The book in I'kris' hand is - true to his words - a treatise on High Reaches history, though it's an older one and probably well out of date. He sets it down, now, drumming his fingers upon the table's edge as he says, "Monaco never forgets her own. You'll always remember that, I hope. If you need anything. I'm - an ambassador of sorts, after all. It's my job to remind you. And form strong bonds between our two Weyrs." He seems serious about this task, enough so that he waves away any suggestion that he might need help and adds, only, "I hope she's not working you too hard. Your Weyrwoman." With a quirk of lips, "Do you think I need a reminder?" It's not an accusation, just curiosity - so far as Brieli's tone goes. Leaning on the table opposite I'kris, she raises her brows again, allowing herself a smile. "There's something to that, I suppose. You might as well have something to do, yes?" Folding her arms, tilting her head, "Have you heard anything about Iolene being a slave driver? I don't find most of my work difficult, only sometimes a bit... dull. It's to be expected. How is your ambassadorship going, then? Winning hearts and minds?" I'kris blushes so prettily when he's flustered, and it's made all the more (potentially) endearing by that quiet earnestness. "I wouldn't presume to say. My Father says I talk too much sometimes; he's probably right." The brownrider's hands still upon the edge of the table, as his head tips to one side to consider her. "Most of the Weyr seems to be enjoying the weather, but you're still working, and you indicated that you didn't have much-- I shouldn't presume. Again. I'm sorry. I'm trying." His expression sets. "I've never spent so much time away from home. It's hard, sometimes, to understand the culture." It's again difficult to tell how exactly Brieli is reacting to all this pretty blushing - she merely has a shrug for talking too much, teasing, "If no one did that, how might the rest of us find anything out?" Because asking is too direct? Too easy? With a wrinkle of her nose, "I don't like the snow very much, still. Even good winter weather seems cold to me. And... I keep myself busy as much as anything else. It keeps me out of trouble." It's a joke, one that fades into something near sympathy. "It can take... adjusting. Some places are easier than others, I'd imagine." This I'kris, the one not on his home turf, or with his own people to back him up, is less confident and composed than the one Brieli would have met in the past. "H'kon told me off for trying to get to know people by watching rather than asking. But I think people get suspicious, if you ask too much. outsiders, pushing in, you know?" His brows knit, and then his fingers do, too. "I don't like the cold, either. I try and stay out of it. Monaco is... nicer, in that sense. I'm looking forward to Rielsath taking to the sands. I suppose busy has benefits." With a wave of her hand, a purse of lips, "H'kon. I don't think he likes anything. I think he thinks it's like eavesdropping. Which isn't such a big deal either." In Brieli's opinion, anyway. "If people want to be suspicious, they will be. I'm honestly not sure that there's much to be done about it, if someone's made up their mind, yes?" She shrugs at I'kris again, diffident. "Monaco was nice, but it didn't do much for my hair, all things considered. And you can go and sit in there before she does, you know." Grinning, "I'd rather be busy than bored. That's never good." "We get along, mostly," says I'kris of that other brownrider, loyally. "He's been very helpful. I mean, I do see his point, but... eavesdropping can be useful, too. And sometimes people say and do things that they wouldn't tell you, maybe because they don't realise and maybe because they don't know how to say it. So." He seems thusly gratified by Brieli's reaction, and gives her a smile more genuine than some of his previous efforts. "I suppose I could go and sit there. It seems lonely, though, now. When there's no one to talk to. Then again--" A shrug of his shoulders. He's here, isn't he? And was doing fine before Brieli showed up. "I like being busy. I hope to be assigned to a proper wing, a wing with proper a proper, traditional drill schedule, when I return home. It bothers me, how idle some people seem." "Has he." It's less a question than a comment, something Brieli finds interesting enough to comment on. "And yes, I suppose that's a decent reason for eavesdropping." Not that, by her tone, she needs one, decent or otherwise. Returning that smile with a brief one of her own, "I've found that the stands tend to be ridiculously crowded in bad weather, but perhaps those were only times I was irritated enough to notice. I hope that people aren't too reticent to have a conversation." She might arch her brows a touch at I'kris and his choice of words, though she doesn't comment. "Perhaps they only seem idle. Iesaryth looks terribly lazy, but she's usually thinking. Speaking of which... I ought to get her up to get out for a bit. But do let us know if you need anything? It's the least we can do." She pushes out of her lean, seeming sincere enough about that at least. Again, I'kris has the grace to flush and look both awkward and apologetic, taking pains for his expression to indicate that he regrets his choice of words. Clearly, it can't have meant anything like what it came across as! "Of course. I'm-- sorry. Thank you. Have a pleasant afternoon... weyrwoman." Amused, "Brieli is fine." She doesn't have the grace - or the empathy - to look embarrassed, but then, she's not really at a disadvantage. Still, "I meant it. Don't take all this too seriously." Perhaps that's meant on a few levels, one of them ironic - but she doesn't clarify as she wiggles fingers in a little wave, and heads out to presumably dust herself off and be vague elsewhere. |
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