Logs:Jocelyn's Assistant
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| RL Date: 13 March, 2016 |
| Who: Jaine, Jocelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jocelyn interviews herself an assistant. |
| Where: Headwoman's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 4, Turn 40 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jounine/Mentions |
| Storyteller: K'del/ST |
| The headwoman's office is rather empty this afternoon, and quiet save for the barely-there sounds that filter in from the hallway outside. At the large table generally used by Jounine's assistants, the water pitcher appears recently refreshed, condensation beading up to roll slowly down the glass as the minutes tick by, moving past the time when Jocelyn is supposed to arrive to meet with Jaine of Keroon. There's a red-haired woman who's been present for the past fifteen minutes, however, discreetly replenishing glowbaskets before settling at the table to scribble at something on a clipboard. Eventually, her blue-gray eyes lift to the cavern's other occupant, expression unreadable. "You look like you're waiting for someone. Can I help?" Although Jaine entered the office with the confidence of one who has spent time in here before, she seems less sure of herself in the wake of that, offering only a nod of acknowledgement to the red-head as she sits, hands folded in her lap, staring resolutely at the ground. As she's addressed, Jaine lifts dark eyes hesitantly, studying her interlocutor with cautious interest. "I'm to be interviewed by the Junior Weyrwoman," she explains, after moistening her lips with her tounge. "I'm to meet with her here. I'm," she smiles, self-effacing, "a little nervous about it. But I'm sure she'll be along directly." "Nervous, " the knotless woman at the table repeats, setting down her pen after a moment to better study Jaine. "Interviews do tend to have that effect on people, don't they? I suppose you're going to speak with her about the assistant position. She's been in talks with a few of the other lower caverns girls this seven, but no one can determine if she's partial to any of them just yet. The expectation seems to be that she'll choose from within the weyr, given that she used to be one of our headwoman's assistants - and as she's hardly reputed for her patience, she'll no doubt select one from the bunch soon enough. Which department did you say you were from, again?" At mention of these other girls, Jaine leans forward slightly, her interest piqued. Still, she doesn't ask about them outright, instead re-folding her hands and saying, "I'm not from the Weyr. I'm visiting from Keroon, which... may mean I have no chance at all, but I shouldn't think you'd interview someone you have no intention of hiring... would you? Hypothetical you, I mean. Though," she allows, then, settling back in her chair, "She could have agreed to interview me as a favour, and still have no intention... but my Aunt does say she's honorable." There's an acknowledging sort of sound from the redhead's general direction, even as she returns her attention to her clipboard briefly, making a mark somewhere in a margin. "It's hardly an uncommon thing, interviewing extra people, although I imagine she'd find that to be a waste of her time. Weyrwomen have full schedules - particularly here, now, with our senior weyrwoman on leave. Take a look, " and the neatly dressed woman pushes to her feet, crossing to show Jaine a lengthy agenda painstakingly marked out on the top sheet of what she's been working on. "The girls who have been rotating through lately to help tidy her weyr when she isn't present have to know when they won't be disturbing her. This is a typical day's outline, start to finish, although there's never a guarantee that things won't change halfway through as priorities shift. And I thought that my schedule as an assistant was full, " says the supposed assistant. Either Jaine is a very quick reader, or she gives the page she's shown only a cursory glance (though the quick movements of her eyes suggests she is looking), because it takes only a few seconds for her to nod and to say, "I can see that. Of course, in cotholds like the one I'm from we may not have schedules, but the work doesn't stop." She's regained some of her confidence, falling short of boastfulness in her tone and instead suggesting matter-of-fact consideration. "And while that work is on a smaller scale, it's still the difference between eating and not; it's still important, don't you think? I'll have a cothold of my own, one day. I'm not afraid to work." "Any actions, any decision-making that affect lives are important, " comes the resolute reply, "and that deserves respect, regardless of one's circumstances. Not everyone sees it that way, I've gathered, but I've never been one for going along with popular opinions." Gray eyes appraise Jaine for a moment before their owner retreats again to the table, reaching to pour a glass of water. "One thing I'd imagine the work at that cothold of yours doesn't include is the ability to maintain confidentiality and exercise discretion with good judgment. This isn't like working with your friends or your family. These women are political figures, whether they wanted their positions or not, and their assistants no doubt become privy to potentially sensitive information that shouldn't be shared with anyone. Nor should their personal lives be exposed to all and sundry - not that I care to know about who's sleeping with whom, but that's the sort of thing that some people find too easy to talk about." Jaine lifts her own gaze, those dark eyes tracking this so-called assistant back to the table. "I half begin to think you're pre-interviewing me," is said with a low chuckle; it's not accusatory. "At least I'm not nervous anymore. I think..." She pauses, hesitating over her words as if she's giving serious consideration to which ones she uses. "That's true, those are not things I've needed to deal with at home. Gossip, I've found, is a way of life to many. But... I believe I can be trusted. I've no interest in my life being discussed by others; why would I let it be so for someone I worked for? They would, by definition, have my loyalty, and be my very first priority." The redhead permits herself a little smile before walking to offer Jaine the water glass, pulling out a chair nearby so that she can sit within a more conversational distance. "Good, " she says approvingly for the nerves that have been displaced by their exchange, listening to the rest silently. Her look afterward is assessing, but it concludes with a quick nod. "Your aunt speaks well of you, Jaine, " she says at last, despite the lack of initial introduction, "and I see after meeting you that she has very good reason to do so." A hand extends politely for the shaking, pale gaze open, if frank. "I'm Jocelyn. Now. What questions do you have for me?" Jaine accepts the glass. She accepts it, and has it halfway to her mouth before-- before. She may be well-spoken, a thoughtful, considered girl in many respects, but Jaine is still a teenage girl, and there's no small amount of very teenage pique expressed across her features as this new information seeks in. What may, perhaps, matter more is the way in which she squares her shoulders, and resumes her sip. It's only once she has taken that, and swallowed it, that she offers her hand in reply, shaking unhesitatingly. "It would be unbecoming, I think, for me to ask why you tricked me, weyrwoman. And in any case, I think I can guess the answer. I'd like to know what your priorities are, in an assistant." "It is fascinating, " Jocelyn says almost nonchalantly, "how people are more willing to speak freely when they perceive that they aren't being weighed as much - or at least, not by the person they were told to expect." Knowingly, "If you were able to guess that, then I think you already know what my priorities are in an assistant. I'd like someone who's sharp-minded, discreet, able to keep up with the minutiae I might be forced to de-prioritize in favor of doing my job to the best of my ability - a little bit of tidying, some errand running, keeping up with my schedule if it changes while I'm in a meeting. It isn't important to me if you can style hair and hang dresses; if the formalities weren't required, I can assure you I'd dispense with them faster than going between. This job comes with some exposure to high-level, political figures and unfortunately, " a wry curve of a smile, "the events that tend to accompany them. I like what I've seen thus far of your values, your presentation, the way you handle yourself. I'm getting the impression that you wouldn't lose your head completely amidst all of that, but do correct me if I'm wrong. About anything." That, too, is apparently important. There's a glint in Jaine's dark eyes; amusement, yes, but also something more akin to approval and quick-witted consideration. "I can do all of that," is determinedly sure; she nods, first once, and then a second time, more quickly. "I've helped with my little sister's hair for turns, but that's probably not the same as a formal hairdresser... but if it helps, as little as you like it, I can do it." She straightens again, looking just a little more like her aunt as she does so: she may smile more, but she has some of that determined poise, too. "You know that I'm going to be married in a few turns. That I can only be here until then." "I usually have an easier time of it if the person working on my hair has a general sense of how little fuss I'd prefer to have made with it, " Jocelyn admits, the set of her shoulders relaxing a fraction. "I know that it's a temporary gig for most people, but especially so in your case, yes. I also know that you've expressed a preference for using that time between now and then to, how did your aunt put it, 'see more of the world.' If you worked for me, you'd certainly see as much of Pern as I can expose you to, both on paper and otherwise." Almost as an afterthought, "You can read, write, work basic arithmetic?" Jaine seems satisfied, her stance shifting ever so much. She presses her hands flat in her lap, then lifts one to smooth away an invisible piece of lint upon her impeccably clean and tidy (but far from stylish) holder-style skirt. "I successfully completed all of my harper lessons," has-- no, not chiding in it, nor offense, but something. Still, she's still pleased. "I'd like this job very much, weyrwoman." "Not everyone has done so with your success, " Jocelyn says by way of both explanation and not-quite apology, chin dipping in acknowledgment of that last. "You might start by using my name, " she suggests with a pinch to the bridge of her nose, "and I should show you where we'll do much of our work. Aidavanth will take an interest in meeting you, too, as you would be spending considerable time in her home, as well." She rises, then, palms wiping carefully down the sides of her fitted slacks. "After we take our little tour, I want you to take some time to think carefully about accepting the role and allow your family the same. Your aunt is here, which will undoubtedly make an adjustment easier, but you've my word that you would have my protection, too. A weyr is very different from what you're used to." "Jocelyn," says Jaine, without hesitation-- not quite a blurt, but still quick. Her pleasure is obvious, but her desire to be professional and adult about it even moreso; she rises, acknowledging the rest of what the goldrider has to say with a firm nod of her own. "I will give it serious thought," she promises. "I won't rush into anything." But for now? She's ready-- eager, even!-- to see more of the Weyr, of where she might work, and the queen she might, indirectly, serve. "Excellent, " and Jocelyn wastes no time in leading Jaine from the headwoman's office, glossing over major parts of the inner caverns the girl's in all likelihood seen, but points out major hallmarks on their way to the bowl. It's a cloudy, overcast sort of day where the breeze promises rain but doesn't quite deliver. There's the entrance to the galleries and the hatching grounds, and then it's up to the weyrleader complex, pointing out the location of the council chambers, the weyrleaders' weyrs, and finally, hers. While the bubbles in the caldera wall that make up her weyr are large enough to hold several of the larger dragons at once, the furnishings are spartan, neat and minimal in the outer area. And Aidavanth, who lands on her ledge moments after their arrival, comes inside to better dip her nose down toward this new visitor with a low vocalization that sounds warm, eyes awash in blue-green-blue. "There's a study back there, which I usually work in, and my actual quarters, but this space is primarily for guests. And it would be yours to use, as well, if you wanted somewhere more private to write your letters home than a table in the living cavern that isn't Jounine's office." As they walk, Jaine does have the occasional question, but otherwise seems content to watch and listen with keen and undistracted interest. She's obviously delighted by Aidavanth, dropping to a gracious bob of a curtsey in greeting-- along with a verbal, "It's lovely to meet you, Aidavanth!" The weyr, too, holds considerable interest, for, "I've not been inside one of these before. It's a little different to the rest of the Weyr, but I suppose that makes sense. It's a good space, Jocelyn." Clearly, she'd be delighted to work in here. Jocelyn and Aidavanth both seem pleased by Jaine's delight, and the former favors the girl from Keroon with a genuine, if small smile. "I'm glad it meets with your approval, and I hope you'll find it a comfortable place in which to work. For now, I've a meeting to prepare for - and I imagine you'll want to tell your aunt before anyone else does that the job is yours if you decide to take it. If you accept, it might be a topic of interest in the hallways for a time, but I expect your competence will be of an appropriate level to dispel that quickly." So straight, so tall: Jaine is the very picture of contented, determined competence in the wake of that offer. "I will have to talk it over with my family," she tells Jocelyn. "But I will have an answer for you quickly, I promise. Thank you, Jocelyn. I appreciate your trust in me very much. I will live up to your expectations." She'll have her answer-- an unconditional affirmative-- within a few days, and be back at the Weyr with her belongings a few days after that; if she has reservations about the Weyr, those she's unlikely to express, and nor do they seem to impede her efforts. |
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