Logs:Problem Solved
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, Valenros |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Valenros has a problem. Aishani solves it, and gains a fan. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 1, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jyani/Mentions |
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| Nighttime has settled over the Weyr, a hush having settled in the lower caverns. Most weyrfolk are safely tucked away in their beds, though there are those who either have jobs yet to complete or who have had sleep forsake them. Fire crackles in the hearths in the kitchen, the pops and hisses drifting into the larger cavern, mingling with the whispers. Shadows have taken over, someone has let the glows dim. Valenros is busy pacing in one corner of the cavern, his dark head down, his hands clasped behind his back. He looks suspicious indeed, all by himself, murmuring under his breath in a fevered kind of way. Those few still here are giving him the side eye, keeping a safe distance. One never knows what monsters lurk in the dark. Not a stranger to the quieter hours of the Weyr, Aishani comes from the kitchens on quiet soft-soled boots that she doesn't likely wear out into the slush, and a bag over one shoulder, bulky, but likewise soundless. The dim state of the cavern doesn't seem to bother her; if someone's mean to refresh the glows, apparently it's not till morning. She takes a moment at the bottom of the steps to sweep the room with her dark, sharp gaze, lingering here and here. It falls on Valenros - how could she miss him really - and since he's not really out of her way, she angles her path toward him, only asking lowly, once he's in earshot, "Problem?" That seems to work for her greeting as well. "Problem?" comes the surprised greeting, snapping the holder out of whatever daydream he was in, his mouth hanging somewhat agape until he realizes where he is and with whom. Valenros pushes a hand through his hair so roughly that it sticks up in the front, lending him a further disheveled look. "I.. ah.. no.. I don't think.." But his answer peters to a whisper at the end, his brow furrowing deeply. "What are you.. that.." Disjointed thoughts and all, he gestures lamely to the bag she carries over her shoulder, his eyes looking particular large and wide in the dim lighting; maybe he looks a little anxious too. Arching fine brows, Aishani tilts her head to the side to listen patiently as Valenros fails to finish a sentence; at the very least, she has the grace not to look as entertained as she might be. "You normally have conversations with yourself in public," she surmises then, though with a tone that's mildly questioning - she'd rather not believe that. As for his barely vocalized question, her bag: "Working." As if that should explain the time of night, why she carries her own bags, all of it. Squinting a little in the dim light, "Are you sure you're quite well?" "I didn't realize I was." Valenros looks back at Aishani without shame, without understanding of any other meaning she might behind her words, completely oblivious. "Do ..Weyrwomen normally.. uh.. do that sort of thing in the middle of the night?" Carry bags through the caverns, obviously, duh. "Don't you.. have something to.. do that for you? A maid?" He looks kind of concerned on her part, as she may be on his. "I can.. help, if you need it.." It's a weak offer, but he looks like he means it, giving her a mos earnest expression; or it could be her question. "I'm fine. Just.. unsettling news.. is all." There's a long moment where the goldrider seems to consider her words before she settles on, "It is a good thing of which to be aware." Aishani shifts her bag a little after that, giving a easy little shrug. "I do," she answers, unconcerned about what other weyrwomen might do. "But there's certainly those who might say I'm not a proper weyrwoman." An eyeroll. "And I do have an assistant. My cousin. But haven't you ever been told that there's some things you can't delegate?" She arches brows the younger man's way again, but sobers soon after, giving a nod. "Ah. Yes. Well, then. That's unfortunate." That's about as far as things go in terms of comfort. Valenros pulls his sweater a little closer around himself. "Some things.. carrying heavy bags around at night? That doesn't seem.." Fill in the blank - proper, seemly, on-the-up-and-up - because he certainly doesn't. "Really, if you need help, I can hold.. that." There's that offer again, though he makes no move to actually take the bag in question, or even to make a move closer to Aishani. "Unfortunate.. doesn't begin to.. cover it." More silence on his end, seems he isn't into being comforted either - at least, not from her anyway. "I'm fine, honestly. It's hardly the heaviest thing I lift in a day." Aishani's faint smile is meant to be reassuring, might come off as a bit patronizing. "And I like it at night. Less people talking." A slender hand makes a talky-face, mimes constant yapping with a long-suffering expression. What her excursions do or don't seem like doesn't seem to bother her, especially as she adds, "But I do like to eavesdrop." Given her words are inadequate, it might be reasonable that she aims a questioning look at Valenros. Well? The silence stretches on. Silence is a nice companion, except when you're attempting to have a conversation. Valenros shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a hand reaching to rub the back of his head. He looks from Aishani's bag back to the woman herself. "Are you someone I would ask about.. about.." It's a brief struggle as he tries to come to terms with his next words, a shift from awkward to embarrassed, but he finally forces out a strangle, "..a job, within.. ah, this Weyr?" Color creeps into his cheeks, burning bright even in the dark of the ill-lit cavern. Silence doesn't seem to bother Aishani, really. She can wait, like she has all night. Or perhaps having someone carrying on a conversation in one's head makes silence a little less eternal. Maybe she and Iesaryth are discussing the weather, or other dragons, or Valenros himself - whatever the answer, she's patient again, but has manners enough to ignore that strangled tone and flush. She won't mock him, no. Just make things difficult. "Yes. One of the someones. What can you do?" There's no judgment there to her question, just a request for facts. The answer catches him off guard - despite having asked the question preceding the answer. "I don't.. I'm not sure." Valenros looks suddenly defeated, like a little canine puppy that's reprimanded for its curiosity. "I've always been good with numbers. I can read, I can write. I can," another fumble, "lift things too?" Like bags that Weyrwomen carry around in the middle of the night. "I never learned a craft or trade. I can't cook or hunt. I doubt I'm any good with kids." Now that they've covered all of what he /can't/ do, he looks to Aishani for a hint of what use his few skills could equal up to. Not discouraged by his defeat, Aishani instead nods to each of those responses, as if filing them away for later reference. In fact, the sum total leave her faintly... pensive. She regards Valenros for a long moment, as if trying to assess him by just... staring at him, but whatever she sees has her making a decision, apparently. "Right," she says. "You can work in the records room for now, see how it suits." Him, or the scribes? Either way: "Go speak to Giorda in the morning, she's the headwoman. She'll give you a schedule." A pause, then; "Your name. Where are you from? Are you running from something?" Just in case. A smile finally appears on his face. "That would be perfect. I can do that. Thank you.. very much, m'lady." Valenros bows his head, as in deep gratitude, and breathes a content sigh. "My name is Valenros, of Winter.. formerly of Winter Ridge Hold." He rushes through his reply, then grimaces and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. "No.. not really.. kind of.. I was told.. ah, not to go home." There it is, the elephant in the room - or, the large, egg-laden dragon in the room. "So not running, per say." Forced, pushed, abandoned, they're all acceptable though. "Aishani, Iesaryth's." Though he's figured that out, the weyrwoman goes through the motions anyway. She doesn't bother to correct the title either. His answer seems to be along the lines of what was expected; she nods once, offering in what's meant to be sympathy, "It is not uncommon here, to be... estranged from one's family. Not in the least." So Valenros isn't alone? Misery loves company? She considers him again, then adds, "My assistant, my cousin - for various reasons, she knows next to nothing about Holds. If you'd be willing to explain what it's like to grow up there, I'd be grateful. It's... necessary to know at this point." "Nice to meet you." Valenros gives another nod, sharp and quick. "It's.. something, I guess, I should have expected." He doesn't give much more detail than that, and hastily gets to her second suggestion. "I would, of course. I know plenty. You can give me dates and times, if she agrees, and I'll be sure to be there, wherever you need me, to give her as much information as I know." Why it's necessary - well, that's for her to know and him.. not to know. Now she has a smile - though brief, it's wide and lovely while it lasts. "So helpful," Aishani tells Valenros, obviously pleased. "That's so kind of you, really. I'll tell Jyani not to be a pain. She has a bit of a smart mouth." Wonder where that could have come from. Though she doesn't go so far as to touch him, she assures him, "The Weyr takes care of its own. If they'll put up with me, you have nothing to worry about." Now smirking, "If you'll excuse me, I should get my boots and..." She lifts her bag. Do something with it. Valenros is looking at Aishani like she's the Masterharper herself, with admiration and appreciated and a bunch of other mixed emotions that crowd his young face. "Yeah.. yeah.. sounds great. Please, just, let me know, I'm here.. I'll be here.. I'll go find, Giorda? Yeah, her." He lifts a hand in a goodbye wave, nodding to the bag now that she mentions it again. "Don't let me stop you. Pleasure.. I'll see you around.. Aishani," the last, him testing her name on his lips, like it's a fine wine that deserves appreciation. Apparently, she's gotten herself a fan. |
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