Difference between revisions of "Logs:Mathletes"

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.

After dinner is a time often dedicated to more casual pursuits, with the average day's duties already done. Tonight, K'zin hasn't drawn the short straw that lands him on evening sweeps this snowy night, and is currently perusing the shelves in a section that most attracts the mathematically inclined, containing charts of various types, and volumes pertaining to the various smithly arts as well as others. His fingers trail the spines, brow furrowed as though no matter how many times he goes over the same shelf of books, the one he's searching for simply isn't jumping out to bite his nose.

"Fancy seeing you here!" says a voice that might be familiar. Ashe peers above the top of the books on the other side of the shelf, her grin visible to the wrinkles around her eyes. "Looking for a cozy night with derivatives and linear limits as well? And here, I thought I was the only one in this entire Weyr with such interesting pursuits."

K'zin shifts, ducking his head a little to get a better look at the eyes looking back at him. Unconsciously, his face mimics hers, the grin likewise blocked from sight but giving warmth to his deep brown gaze. "Well, well, well. If I'm not careful, I'll find where you sleep by tripping on you at the rate of run-ins that we're managing." The bronzerider's baritone bears good humor. He doesn't immediately seek to remove the barrier between them, but perhaps that's because of what he's just said; can't get slapped through a wall of books no matter how cheeky one elects to be! "Well, I'd imagine my interests have slightly more tangible applications. Can't say as I've ever heard of anyone touching a star before," the casual reference would seem to indicate that the once-smith has been doing his homework. But then, here he is in the records room, so perhaps that was already obvious.

"Can't say I've touched a star either," singsongs Ashe back, the grin's broadening deeply etching those eye wrinkles. Her pleasure manifests in a book being removed so her mouth is now visible, until the book next to it falls to create a triangle. "It sounds like you're a step closer to finding me where I sleep /without/ tripping on me. Not," teases the starcrafter with a tiny little shrug, "That that'd be such a hardship. So tell me what would a smith turned bronzerider need with higher mathematics?"

Her triangle is met with a rectangle of his own, as three books are removed by his broad grip and one let to fall all the way on its side to brace the ones on either side, the three in his hands set atop to complete the shape. They're going to be the scribe's favorite people tonight. But perhaps it's not so uncommon in a section for mathletes like them. K'zin's grin has shifted to a smile, though no less pleased. "There are only so many places a crafter can hide from one raised here," he admits, letting his lips press together and nearly purse in an expression of contained amusement. "What else would a smith turned bronzerider need higher mathematics for? I'm designing a new gizmo." Boys and their toys! "And what of you? Are you here tonight on a mission of business or pleasure? Or is it ever the twain together for you?" His tone has turned teasing in turn.

"I always need to study more." Ashe sounds earnest, if amused. "And I know my teachers wish I'd apply myself more. They say so as much every time I have a review period and ace my exams and still somehow fail a class because I skipped so many or forgot to do homework." She airquotes the forgot part of her sentence. "Honestly, if they didn't waste my time with all sorts of topics I already understand then I think we'd have a far more copacetic relationship as teacher-student." There's another shrug, this one diffident, but no less charming as she's suddenly sparing K'zin another bright smile. "Tell me about your gizmo and I'll tell you about my latest mathematical research."

K'zin shifts so that once more only his eyes and up can be seen, framed now by the books. "I would, but I'm afraid it's top secret until it's unveiling in another month or so." He sounds quite serious, "But I'll be glad to show you the blueprints after that, if you like." A single brow quirks upward. "And have you brought it to the attentions of your instructors that their methods..." He considers his word choice briefly under now furrowed brows, "...leave something to be desired?"

Ashe shrugs again. It's a night for shrugging! But maybe all her shrugging would make far more sense if they were standing in person and he could actually see the over large sweatshirt she's wearing. It's certainly giving the archivist on duty something to crane his neck to see. Another book is removed, but this time Ashe turns the book next to it slanted so it creates a teepee with one spine in the center. "Does it really matter? I pass my exams. I'm not aiming to be Master of the Hall or anything. I'd be happy to be a Journeyman for the rest of my life. I guess I think I can make it that far without caring."

"So long as you don't find somewhere you like better than going where the Hall tells you to go," K'zin agrees. "Journeymen make a nice living. Not as good as dragonriding for travel, but if you love your craft, and like to spend time in different places," he makes some sort of gesture that has his head tipping just a touch from side to side. He can see the big picture of it, obviously, having been a crafter once himself. "So why do you wear your hold knot instead of your craft? Is it that you enjoy being a mystery?" His tone is playful once more, rolling back onto his heels to bring his face back into the frame of the rectangle.

"Sometimes," confides Ashe in a suddenly lowered voice, "I don't wear any knot at all!" The horror! Delicately, the apprentice withdraws the spine keeping the two other books slanted, and watches as they fall against each other. Her breath catches, eyes widened, as if waiting for them to fall over, but they stay, balanced against each other's edge to create a tent for her to peer through. "I think people take what I say more seriously when they don't think of me or see me as an apprentice. It's not a big shocker. And being from Lewis Hold isn't a lie either."The three books she took are now hugged to her chest. "I joke, but I really do need to read through this material before my teaching session tomorrow morning. I like my ears as they are and not red because he keeps whacking me when I make a mistake. Good night, my records room luv-ah~."

K'zin's laughter as Ashe makes her departure earns him a stern shhh from the scribe on duty, but judging from his easy dismissal of it, it's hardly the first time he's been called out for some kind of bad behavior in the records room. Bronzeriders. Or maybe that should be apprentices!