Difference between revisions of "Logs:Comparisons"

A bit later on in the afternoon, when the light in the bowl starts letting the shadows grow long, there's still a few people working away in the records room; the on-duty scribe and a few others, scattered here and there across the tables. It's not the best time to start working, but no rest for the wicked - here's Brieli, speak of the very devil, tall and dark, still dressed in leathers. She's quiet about her long-legged saunter past the front desk and into the room, if only so sharp dark gaze can dart between the tables to see what everyone's up to. If someone's trying to hide their work. As you do.

Nothing could hide the way someone's work has spread like a virus across a table and one shelf, nor disguise the absolute diligence in L'hai's gaze -- behind thin lenses -- attending it all. Currently risen from his supposed seat, he hovers at a nearby shelf, the tome he's selected drawn out from its slot and opened with the top resting against the furniture for what may've been a quick perusal and is now a deeper reading. The unfortunate scribe on-duty's occasional, but not very fervent, eyeing, suggests the new bronzerider has been at it before the afternoon faded. Hides are buried in maps on the table, though not in the unorganized pile that might be predicted; it's all ordered and rowed nicely -- perhaps even too nicely.

If anyone else is trying to get something shady done right now, it's their lucky day. Brieli is so not paying attention. She has something else to deal with at the moment. Dark eyes widen at the work that's spread out - whether it's the crazy neatness or the way it's spread or the sheer volume, it's hard to say. The look she gives the scribe over her shoulder is mostly to confirm that this is all serious before she sort of sidles her way along the far side of the table, looking it over. Not touching anything. Her tones easy and smooth for all they're bemused, "What is all this?"

Several seconds go by before L'hai lifts his head from the reading -- finishing the paragraph, or he merely processes the question slower. Blinking above spectacles that have slid somewhat down his nose from the reading stance, he chances a glance ahead of him around the shelf, then slightly behind, before that angled gaze falls on Brieli for a much more sober study than his appearance should allow. "Maps." As matter-of-fact as you like. He doesn't appear to be mocking her, but it's initially difficult to tell, since he does seem faintly bewildered she asked. "History, underneath. Wing reports." The book in his hands starts to slide forward and he takes it in a palm, letting it ease towards closing. "You need-- " he eyes over the display, "Room, then?"

Brieli is patient, for now; she folds her arms, she waits until he's done reading or processing or whatever it is that he's doing. Any study doesn't appear to bother her - in fact, it's as if she's unaware of it at all. As patiently as she'd waited, "I can see that. Maps of... Why maps?" One hand is loosed to make a turning, circling motion - more information please. Fine brows arching, likewise looking it all over, gaze lingering on a few items here and there, perhaps familiar; "Catching up? You're... new." There's a quirk of her lips at that, and she laughs quietly, shakes her head. "No. There's other tables. I was just curious. I'm Brieli." She leans across the table to offer her hand.

He blinks, twice. Then, "Ahh..." having eloquently lost the direct line of the conversation. L'hai recovers when he thumbs the glasses back into place and side-steps out from within the shelves. "Checking. Comparison, mostly-- Brieli, yes. Brieli. I'm L'hai, Brieli." Getting close enough, he slips his hand out to embrace hers, functional but short in his handshake. As he lets go, his fingers absently brush against his shirt. Though his gaze drops to the table, he maintains a polite speaking tone -- if somewhat distant, "Kolniveth has spoken to Iesaryth. And then, ah," his hand pauses in the air, then his finger goes for several loops, as if he were swirling time backwards, "Az... aylia and Hraedhyth before that." Satisfied, he looks up expectantly at her.

"Comparison. Oh. Between maps, yes? The ones that you're accustomed to?" Tilting her head to the side as she regards him, Brieli doesn't quite look amused, but her dark eyes are brightened as she shakes L'hai's hand in return, short and firm. "Well met." Straightening again, she might be noting all those little quirks with quick flickers of her gaze, but isn't overt about it. With a little purse of her lips, "Yes. Iesaryth seems to like him." Why that would be an issue, who knows, but more pleasantly, "Oh, Azaylia. Well. At least you've likely been welcomed properly then. She does that sort of thing. She's... thoughtful."

"And the, ah... the general-- quality. Of things." Though he remains vaguely sheepish to admit it, the scholar in L'hai bullies him right through that staggered sentence. Splaying his fingers over the maps may demonstrate them, or just be somewhere for him to rest his restless weight. "That's very open-minded of Iesaryth," he fair deadpans, which already sounds odd with what's been gathered of him -- but works, somehow, for it. Or the way he's looking down at her, like a professor with a grade. All of which dissolves neatly as he flusters lightly, "Thoughtful, yes. Fruits, and the like. A very charming skull. I'd hoped to talk to her more about it soon. Ah, don't believe I gave a vastly good first impression..." his head tilts, away from Brieli as he eyes dryly down again, "Then again-- " and his hands gesture with a couple of jerks at himself.

Now entirely entertained and not bothering to hide it, "Ah. Yes. Of 'things'. What things, and how are you finding them? In comparison. It's a rare perspective to have, I suppose we should take advantage." Brieli makes a good point, even if she might be partially screwing with L'hai; it is useful information. Leaning her hip against the table, arms folded again, she doesn't seem all that bothered by his restlessness; she seems accustomed to something like it. Though arching brows again, "Well, she is that, but... do you find that's unusual?" For the skull though, she has to laugh - enough to get a glare from the scribe for it, who gets flipped off behind his back for his trouble. "Hraedhyth. Skulls. They'll be buried in them some day." Glancing back his way sidelong, "Oh, she's likely fretting that she's done something wrong herself. I am positive that you both were perfectly lovely." Eye roll.

"Kolniveth didn't quite-- get on with our queen at Ista," L'hai reminisces, starting with dry amusement that cracks at the edges, revealing a subtler trend of unexpectedly deep pain in the twitch of his lip before-- twitch, gone. As he spares a glance up at Brieli, hands tapping at the table edge, he's fit for normal. His normal. "That sounds awfully uncomfortable," is allowed for the skull situation, his eyes lightly troubled as though he were contemplating this likelihood. A shoulder rolls back, framing him more equally towards the expanded maps on the desk. "I'm never lovely. Saw that." Fingers spread out from the edge to the first of the maps. "As to your initial question... ah. Fair. It's all very-- fair. Assortment, accuracy, and scale, all considered. Seem passingly up to date. Less in this-- " he gestures to one side of the maps, "area than I would expect," or just prefer, on a personal level, judging by his curling mouth, "Assuming some overlap, somewhere, that's made the artist lazy. Anyway, it's a prelude, really." He straightens, having started to lean over more enthusiastically, and smacks his lips.

"Really." Brieli finds that interesting, files that away for later, for all that she won't go poking into the cracks. Not yet. When L'hai spares that glance for her, she's simply pleasant interest. "I don't think Iesaryth has yet met a dragon she didn't get on with. Ysavaeth... perhaps not as much." Letting the whole skull thing pass - because who means that literally? - she shrugs a little, "Fine, argue. And I don't really care." She doesn't go hiding her eye-rolling. Even so, she'll look over the maps and listen - since she asked, she must actually have some little curiosity. With a smirk, "Fair. That's comforting. Even given... well. Assuming standards are high. And a prelude. Really. To what. Living here?"

"Good..." murmurs L'hai passingly, as to her lack of caring. Since he launches into his explanation soon after, it's fair forgotten. Especially when he pipes up, "What?" with a dangle of confusion when he has to fall out of his own head to try and perceive where hers is. "Oh, no..." Pausing to reach up and swipe his glasses off his nose, the skin pinched by them given an extra one by his fingers before they lower. "To visiting Fort's. It stands to reason that this is the most likely time that both Ista," he gestures out there, "and Reaches' will be, ah," then swirls a couple fingers at his own head, "recent, so-- reasonably-- lending to the whole, ah. Comparing... bit." There's a pause then, as he stands there, fist braced on his hip, he detours it out to point lowly at her, mutters, "... Brieli," then sits it back.

Brieli just looks at L'hai for a few moments, brows drawn together in brief concern. It passes for something closer to disbelief though, and she asks, lips curving into a wry smile, "Do you think they'll still let you into Fort's records with a High Reaches knot? I suppose you seem harmless enough, but were I paranoid--" Were she. "I'd think it some sort of scam. Good luck, though. Do let me know how it goes, I would love to know how it turns out." A pause before, "It's a fair theory. To borrow a word." She'll just ignore the whole pointing thing for now.

"Why would I try to scam my way into the records?" It seems -- remarkably, impossibly -- ridiculously sincere, in L'hai's honest tenor. Even his eyebrows join the cause, lightly, and discontentedly, furrowed. "Anyway, I don't know. My invitation was extended under-- well... circumstances. Ah-- unique circumstances, I should say. Everything's a circumstance-- well, that's not quite right, either, is it... Nevermind. Where was I-- the point is, I won't know unless I ask and I'd much prefer to ask while it's a good time. What's the worst they can say? 'As if we'd let you anywhere near our home, you gutless spy'? Not like I haven't heard that before." He sniffs, pauses. Sticks his tongue inside his bottom lip, creating a pensive bulge, as his eyes tip to the side, and so does his weight. "... Actually, it wasn't pleasant at all."

"Why wouldn't you? I mean, it's not as if there's likely anything that secret there. But why not? Maybe you want to see them. Change them. Who knows." Brieli just shakes her head slowly, sadly. Why are all these people so honest? Flashing a grin L'hai's way, as if she wouldn't - hadn't - actually thought to do such a thing, she nods a little. "Well, as you say, there's certainly no harm in asking. I don't know your circumstances, but I will assume they may be enough to overcome any issues. And I find expecting the worst makes everything a pleasant surprise." She unfolds her arms to pull a map her way, eye it as she notes, "Things like that are never pleasant, yet people are still quick to judge."

L'hai grimaces empathetically on change them, as if there were a bad lingering taste in his mouth. His raised hand brings a thumb to tap at the bottom of a lightly scarred lip. "Mmmm," is his only, hummed, response for a second. When he glances over, and she's smiling, he raises his eyebrows to forcibly dismiss the thought. It doesn't go quietly into that good-- afternoon; he's momentarily sobered with a weight more than his honesty might presume. He retains some of the somber note in order to mention blithely, "Oh, I always expect the worst. It's quite often the only thing I'm right on." Eyeing her claim of the map, he leans forward on a hip and finds a free, even-spaced, place to slip the tome that's been under his arm. "They are, aren't they. Very rarely do people surround themselves with the entire circumstance. But how could they; it would be too bothersome to their world view. I find facts infinitely more comforting."

Sliding the map back to where it was, being sure to put it back in its place, just so, Brieli murmurs, mostly to herself, "Heresy." It brings a trace of smile to her lips, and she looks up to tell L'hai, "If you're right too often, they call that prophecy. Be careful what you expect. Just in case." If her supposedly off-hand suggestions of records tampering and other such mayhem have bothered him, she's not seeming all that worried about it for now. Considering all of that, she looks across the table to regard the other rider for a moment before, "Comforting. That's interesting. I would say more useful. I've never been in a worse situation for having more information." Dropping her gaze to the table again, "I must be keeping you. My apologies."

L'hai's lips curl no more agreeably for the notion of heresy-- though it could as easily be run-off from his very practically phrased complaints. "I suppose 'expect' also suggests a certain amount of proactiveness for which I have never been accused." She need not be worried; she carries plenty enough to go around. Even so, he's drawn to near neutral during her study of him, merely rubbing his thumb across his jaw and uttering, "Hmm? Mmm," when he recognizes her new sentiment. "It's true, they're not mutually exclusive. Though, eh-- " head tipping towards her, he wags a finger, "I... -- have-- Though it's a-- well, it was my fault. You don't care. Don't apologize. I would've told you off." All mentioned in the same light, nearly flippant it's so matter-of-fact, tone. Finally, he forces himself to look back up. "It was good to have met you."

"Do you need to do that much to expect anything beyond imagine it into being?" Brieli shrugs again, long curls bouncing. She doesn't think so. "It's preferable to do something if it affects you, yes. That's a personal opinion." Pushing off the table with a little sigh, she straightens, expression shading into a grin. "On the contrary, I do care. You can tell me another time. But you have this--" She flicks long fingers over the work. "And I spent too long on delivery this afternoon." When L'hai will look up again, finally, she offers another brief, bright smile. "And you. Good luck at Fort." And then she'll go off into the shelves, presumably looking for something to do with her work. But who knows.