Difference between revisions of "Logs:Awkward in the Storerooms"

It's a beautiful day, all warm and pleasantly breezy - the sort where those who are working indoors can hardly be blamed for seeking ways to accomplish their tasks outside. Mid-afternoon nonetheless finds the stores not unoccupied; Jocelyn, hair clipped neatly out of her face, finishes her three-hour tour of the storage caverns by assessing the progress of one of Jounine's assistants who is supervising the reorganization of the section assigned to home furnishings. With a pencil tucked behind her ear and her much-marked clipboard clasped beneath an arm, she observes the workers silently from the nearest entrance, hands stuffed into her pants' pockets.

The day may be pleasant, but there are a surprising number of goldriders still inside on such a day. It's the jangle of Farideh's keys that might give her away-- she's twirling the ones on her ring-- as she walks with purpose down the hall from the kitchen, one of the other assistant headwomen in tow. They don't talk, that junior and that assistant, but they move in sync with each other towards their pre-set destination. And it might seem as though the young goldrider doesn't notice Jocelyn standing there in the entryway, except she abruptly stops, still staring forward, still rattling those keys. "Jocelyn, good afternoon," she says, before her head swivels towards the other woman.

The headwoman Jocelyn's watching glances briefly toward the entry as she navigates around the half-handful of assistants currently under her purview, eyebrows lifting in silent, polite acknowledgment of the weyrwomen before resuming going down her checklist. The rattle of Farideh's tell-tale heart - sorry, keys - causes the redhead's chin to lift before she turns to face the younger goldrider, features arranging into an even expression. "Farideh, " she returns politely enough, pale eyes flicking to regard her companion before likewise greeting her former colleague. "You're in this section today, too?" The little purse of her lips all but broadcasts her suspicions; did Irianke intend for them to collide in the course of their duties this particular day? Still, she takes a step aside to give the two enough room for passage, should their destination also involve upholstered furniture and rugs.

The assistant behind Farideh is staring very intently at her own pile of hides and disheveled papers, instead of between the two weyrwomen; she's not even pretending to acknowledge the tension in the hallway. After hazel eyes flick to and fro, taking in the other woman's companions, they lift to meet pale ones. "No. We're passing through. It seems as though you've got this handled," except the tone of her voice is a bit ambiguous about what handled means. "It's hardly a job for the two of us."

Jaine has been in and out of the storerooms a few times this afternoon, the course of her duties setting her up to interrupt Jocelyn on occasion-- but only as is absolutely required. That she arrives now, clutching a clipboard of her own, probably won't help with the tension, and it is a tension that she is absolutely and immediately aware of. Her steps falter, gaze sliding from Farideh to Jocelyn and then back again.

"You're right; it isn't, " says Jocelyn without sharpness, partially turning back toward the cavern to note that the crew inside is about halfway done with their section. When her attention returns to those just outside of this particular department, the now-weary look on her face turns expectant once she catches sight of Jaine, one hand pulling out of a pocket to beckon the girl over. To the others, "If you're going to dry goods or cold storage, mind the floor. There was a spill there earlier as we were passing through. It shouldn't pose an issue, " but in case it does, let the record state that she made an attempt to warn her coworker.

Poor, poor Jaine, upon whom Farideh's gaze falls next. "Janise, isn't it?" she asks, blatantly remaining where she is, despite prior statements to be 'walking through'. "How are you liking High Reaches?" It's surprisingly polite given the relative mood.

Jaine, deer in the headlights, pauses. She's caught, now, between Jocelyn's beckoning and Farideh's questioning, and though the latter certainly is polite, there's evident dismay in the young woman's expression. "Jaine," she corrects, apologetically, that Keroonian lilt audible in her pronounciation of the name. "Very much, ma'am. I'm very happy here." Something in her stiffened posture suggests she's just itching to move again, but she stands still all the same.

The set of Jocelyn's shoulders stiffens a little as Farideh keeps talking. And as Jaine goes still, the redhead, for whom indecision is rarely acceptable, clears her throat and looks - not at Jaine, no, but Farideh as she crosses to stand next to her assistant. "You were right to tell me early on that there's value in having a good assistant." Courteous though her remark is, it ends on a pointed note: Leave the girl alone and let her do her job, says her stance, before she spares an expectant glance in the direction of Jaine's clipboard.

Innocent, curious questions turn to something else, something equally as indiscernible as she regards the other goldrider's defense of her assistant. Farideh doesn't hit the smile that lifts the corners of her lips. "That's very interesting," is all she says, and, with a backwards glance at the headwoman still not-looking at any of them, she sets back off on her way to whatever destination she's headed to. "Goodbye, Jocelyn. Jaine," she tosses behind. Let's be honest-- she's probably terrorizing children or the aunties.

Jocelyn's lips press thin and don't lift into a smile as she dips her chin briefly while Farideh sails off to wherever she's headed. "Goodbye, Farideh, " is more a mutter along the lines of 'good riddance' once the brunette's no longer in sight. There's a slow, careful exhale some moments afterward before the older goldrider finally turns to give Jaine her full attention. "Hopefully that's the last unnecessary interruption of the afternoon, " she says briskly, but blue-gray eyes study dark ones briefly before their owner continues. "You have something for me?"

It's not that Jaine holds her breath, but the whoosh of breath that she exhales matches Jocelyn's inadvertantly following the younger goldrider's departure. Dark eyes track back to Jocelyn, showing just a hint of apology that she does not echo with her words. Instead, she crosses towards the weyrwoman, largely ignoring the headwoman and those others at work-- she offers, with outstretched hand, the clipboard. "I just need your signature," she explains. "I don't mean to interrupt."

"Hmm." It's a thoughtful noise that Jocelyn makes as she takes the proffered clipboard, scanning the sheet on top quickly with a little frown before using the attached pen to affix her sharp signature into the appropriate blank. Mildly, as she passes the clipboard back, "Jaine. For what I hope is the last time, you can stop apologizing for doing your job. You'll know if you're truly interrupting." There's a wry curve to her mouth, unbidden; an astute assistant would, by now, notice the relative frequency of Lys's visits - and the equally frequent dismissals for the evening that come with most of those.

Holdbred though she is, Jaine does not blush-- though surely she's well aware of what those visits must entail. "I'll try," she promises, for what is probably the umpteenth time, as she accepts the return of the clipboard. "Weyrwoman Faride-- that is, I didn't mean to interrupt that, beyond anything else."

The shake of Jocelyn's head is at once acknowledging and dismissive. "You didn't, " she repeats again, "interrupt. In fact, " and she pulls her pencil from behind her ear to make one last check on her own clipboard before gesturing for Jaine to follow her out of the storerooms, "your timing wasn't half-bad." It's a five-star review from the queenrider, who favors her assistant with a little nod before resuming her purposeful stride down the corridor. "Now. What's next?" Perhaps the inquiry is there to help underscore how much she values Jaine's assistance; it's a rare day when she doesn't know what is, indeed, next.

There's a little upwards twitch of Jaine's mouth, as if she's amused, and even pleased, by this summation of events. What's next? She knows as well as Jocelyn does, and is happy to make quiet comment as she leads the way from the storerooms.