Participants:
| Date: | July 23, 2010 |
|---|---|
| Location: | Landing: AIVAS Complex, Green Classroom |
| Synopsis: | Three women approach the Master Smith. He deals with each one. |
| Rating: | PG (Because the Smith Master has a mouth) |
| Logger: | Jarvys |
Clearly uncomfortable in this room (or, to come to think, most rooms in this complex), Smith Master Jarvys sits at one of the high tables, working on a piece. It's a tiara, and the shape is laid out in the silver. He affixes a small ruby to a square of silver with tongs, his normal 'near viewer' in front of his dominant eye. He is silent, as is the whole room, except for the occasional chirrup-snort of a gold firelizard resting on a nearby table asleep.
Nenienne peeks into the room tentatively. Seeing the Master at work, she slips in as silently as possible and walks up to the bench, staying far enough back that she doesn't loom, but close enough so she can watch in rapt appreciation for the art.
Atsya enters in behind the taller young woman, quiet though she doesn't seem to be trying to be, save for the whisking of her skirt as she walks.
Curiosity is what seems to drive Cheusia, or, perhaps she's stalking Atsya, who is following Neni. It's a gaggle of girls/women. There's a look around the classroom, curious, thoughtful, with grey eyes exploring and then finally settling on the Smith Master.
Jarvys drops his tool when the door opens, and barks. "What?" He hasn't looked up yet. When he does, after raising the viewer from his eyes, he gazes down his nose at the three women. "Well. What do we have here? A … blue rider, my journeyman, and … a healer. What juxtaposition of circumstances merits such … esteemed company?" Sarcasm. Free for all listeners, right here. "Journeyman, report." It's a command, and he eyes the young woman. She entered first, so she gets priority.
Nenienne straightens up and says crisply "Master Jarvys, I'm Neni, recently posted to Eastern Weyr. I'm here due to an odd circumstance — I've been searched. Here is the Weyr's official letter of such." She hands over a note prepared by weyrwoman Randi, attesting to the fact.
Atsya remains quietly in the background, watching the exchange without yet participating.
Cheusia looks to Nenienne, perhaps surprised, or the name is startling her to stare at the Master with much more intensity. Lips press into a thin line for a moment before she relaxes and offers soft 'congrats' to the Journeyman.
"Yes, yes, yes. I was there when you were posted." Jarvys stands, stretching a little, and walks around the table, and takes the note. "Weyrwoman Randi? I was slightly disappointed that her gold didn't rise first. She's the kind of woman you want leading a Weyr." This is spoken softly, and more to himself than to the women in the room. "She says you have been searched by a bluerider. I'm assuming this — " He gestures toward Atsya, and continues. "This is said bluerider, is it?" His eyes narrow at the presence of a female blueruder, but if the Weyrs want her, more power to them. "Healer, do you need to examine her for me to make this decision, or do you have something else on your mind?" His eyebrows lift as he returns the stare is returned, and her features are taken in. "Silver crackdust, girl. You look as if you'd seen Thread at work or something." His voice carries the bark it did earlier. "Sit." He gestures to a chair near Cheusia. "I won't have any of the Healers falling down near me. I'd never hear the end of it."
Nenienne nods to the Master, keeping her voice neutral and somewhat hushed. "Atsya, Zhiyth's rider." Upon hearing the admonition to Cheusia, Neni turns and sees her friend. With a worried expression she says "Che, are you all right?"
Atsya smiles politely and gives a nod of her head. She debates for the briefest of moment of telling him it was Zhiyth, who is still quite proud of himself and sunning outside who had found her, but decides it isn't really relevant enough to interrupt for. The concern about the healer gets her attention though, pulling it from the craftmaster as she gives her a once-over.
"Moral support." Is the first thing that pops out of Che's mouth, eyes focusing still upon the Smith Master, unwavering, determined even if her features are pale and her form is tense. The command to sit is met with a blind sort of obedience before her gaze is finally drawn away from the man. "Fine… Sorry, Neni." And then, she turns her gaze forward. "So, Master Jarvys… What have you been up to for the last twenty-four Turns?"
"What kind of a fool question is that, girl?" Jarvys asks, before returning his attention to the other Smith. "You want this?" He's not a complete ass. Well, yes, he is. But he does know the rules, and can follow them when it suits him. "If you want this, then, yes, go on then. If you don't Impress, you can either pick up that knot again and stay there, or you can continue to try your luck with those — those at the Weyr." His smile informs them that he changed what he was going to say at the last minute. "It is your choice. We'll be short without you, but I won't have you whining all your life that you didn't get to go play with the flying brigade because of your Master." He scowls, and gazes over to Atsya. "I hear you're not up fighting yet. Why not?"
Nenienne had been quite tense without, perhaps, even realising it. When Jarvys gives his answer she takes a deep breath and then an exhale, and as she exhales she relaxes significantly. "Yes, sir. I would like to try, and I just needed to know the Hall would still be open to me after the hatchings."
Atsya regards the mastersmith somewhat placidly, though something sparks deep in her eyes. "We are shorthanded for the same reason you are, smith. Because moving men and supplies hundreds of miles to a new location is never easy. And we didn't have the benefit of premade cots." She gives a small smile as if to say "what can you do?"
"A perfectly serious question that I am genuinely curious about." Che returns, "because my mother was so determined not to utter a single thing about you besides a name and that's all I ever got. So indulge me." Though she shuts her mouth completely so not to interrupt Neni or their talk since it is more important. Atysa is given a very brief look for his words to her, nodding at the response of the rider before eyes move forward to the Smith Master.
"However, you do have the benefit of instantaneous transportation and the collective minds of the dragons all across the planet, yes?" Which should make it easier, shouldn't it? At least in Jarvys' mind. However, he cuts his words off, realizing he's attempting to argue logically with a woman. "Well, then, you may. I suppose that will require me to watch the damn thing." The hatching, that is. "Your mother? Without a name, girl, I don't know your mother from Moreta. I know several women." In other words, if this is what he thinks it is, he needs to know exactly which one. "As to what I have been doing? I've been slaving my ass off, gaining my Mastery and dealing with incompetent apprentices and journeymen — with the rare exception of one or two bright stars — for a good portion of that time."
Nenienne is obviously choosing her words very carefully, and she annunciates slightly more formally than usual, to those who know her. "Thank you, Master. I believe the Weyr will issue you an invitation should you wish to attend either hatching."
Atsya doesn't look much more joyful than the woman she brought with her from the Weyr, and some heat can be seen beneath the serene visage. She holds a breath and lets it out, reminded of petty customers around the weaver halls. Instead she merely gives another shrug.
"Usien." Is supplied for a name. Cheusia keeps her gaze forward, unwavering. "I see. Thank you for the honest answer." She mulls over the answer quietly, her eyes finding Neni with a smile for the other Journeyman with a brief look to the dragonrider as she doesn't respond again and a sympathetic smile is offered in return.
"Usien." He does have to take a moment to think, but when he has done for a few moments, his entire focus is on the young healer. He moves gracefully over toward her, and walks around her as though he's assessing a runner, or perhaps a gem. "And your name?" This hasn't been said, yet, except for her nickname, and Jarvys wants to know. "I can camke no promises as to expectations." That's as much of an acknowlegment as the woman will get at this point.
Nenienne glances at Atsya and mouths "Should we get going?" She indicates the charming father-daughter reunion going on.
Atsya watches the exchange between the masterminer and the healer, a little curious, but not really wanting to stay longer than necessary. "I think that would be wise," she replies as she spins on a booted toe and starts for the door.
Cheusia's eyes follow Jarvys as he moves over, sitting straighter as he walks around her. Her attention stays forward, not turning to follow his movements. "Cheusia. I have no expectations of you. I was told nothing about you but I never tried to imagine you. My step-father was not a doting father, either. My brother is more loved than I. I was sent to the Hall as soon as he could be rid of me." The departing Nenienne and Atsya are noted with a brief glance and a wave.
Nenienne removes three redfruits from the shoulder bag she's been clutching the whole time and quietly places them on the desk, then follows Atsya out, perhaps less tentatively than before.
"Comport yourself well, Journeyman. You do still reflect on your Craft." Jarvys gives his farewell to Neni, a curt nod to Atsya, and returns his attention to Cheusia. "Just so we're clear." His child. This is different. "How did you do on your exams?" He doesn't specify which, but one might assume he means the Journeyman exams. "Is your mother well?" To her story, he does listen, though his expression tightens. "I will not coddle you. However, if there is something I can do to make your … situation less unbearable, some small thing, I shall consider it."
"Perfectly clear." Che turns her gaze fully to him, grey eyes searching his face for a moment. "I did perfectly, my mentor was an understanding man who let me explore the Craft as I pleased and I excelled quickly." Which, may border on some sort of arrogance from the hint in her tone. "Mother is lovely. She's enjoying her life with her husband and my brother." His final statement earns a shrug, "my expectations for a father do not include coddling. I was merely curious about you… If I do require something to ease my situation in the Weyr, I will consider asking. Thank you for your offer."
"Very well. Oh." Jarvys remembers something, and moves over to where the little gold firelizard is snoozing peacefully. "This is Jahra. I named her after my mother. Your granddam." Yes, it's odd, but it's Jarvys. "She was a greenrider. I don't remember much about her. My father was a Weaver Master. Vyssal. You might have heard of him. I have no siblings." He gives his quick recitation rather tonelessly, as though reciting a list of tools and ingredients. It is her right to know. "I have no siblings." He strokes the gold's neckridges, causing her to chirrup more happily. "If I wish to send you something, I will normally do it through Jahra here. She is quite skilled at such things." The barest hint of a smile crosses his face, showing a bit of the rake that he was when he met her mother. "Just be aware."
Cheusia pauses at the oh, watching as he moves to the gold firelizard and pushing up from the seat to better see her. The names are murmured softly under her breathe for memorization purposes while listening to him explain. "Yes. Master Vyssal…" But no further indication of knowing more about the Weaver. "I understand. She doesn't appear to be something I would miss." That smile of his is eyed, briefly and then she searches his face again. "I appreciate the honesty. And that you are not trying to shove things at me to get me to leave."
Jarvys snorts. "Why would I give you anything if I wanted you to leave?" That doesn't make sense to him. "Besides, you seem to have a few brains inside your skull." This is praise indeed from the acerbic man. "What is your specialty?" He lets Jahra return to her sommulent state, and moves back over to his work, lowering his eyepiece again. "I'll work as we talk. This needs finished." He is a busy man, after all.
Cheusia shrugs, "it makes no sense to me, I have heard of men shoving things off to children to be rid of them. Farms, cotholds…." Purely example as she rolls her shoulders. "I do have a brain and I make use of it. My specialty is in surgery." She steps to the side, her attention moving to his work. "Of course. I'll not get in the way of your work."
Jarvys drops his tweezers again, and looks up, irritated. gazing at her through his near-viewer. Then, realizing his error, he flips it up just enough to see her. "Surgery?" Really. This might be a sticking point. "Hmmph." He falls silent, returning to his work while he thinks. When the next gem is set, he clears his throat. "Well, I suppose as long as you don't muck around while your inside a body." He shudders, clearly not pleased with even the thought of surgery. "Of course you make use of your brain." She's his kid, and she scored perfectly. "That much is patently obvious. Though your choice of …" Well, he's being gracious for Jarvys, really.
Cheusia doesn't smile at the drop of his tweezers, "yes." She responds to his question, remaining in silence as he thinks and sets the gem. "I wouldn't mess around inside someone's body. It is like your work, precise. You must be accurate, quick, but you must do it correctly so that you save the life rather than lose it." Her arms fold patiently behind her back and she shrugs. "My choice is merely what I am best at. I am, however, capable of all other areas other than dragonhealing."
Jarvys gives another "hmmph," this one less disgruntled than the last. He remains quiet for the precision work for a few minutes, then he takes the viewer off his head, resheaths the tweezers in his wristband, and rolls his neck. "That has to set for a candlemark or so before I can do anything more. Have you eaten recently?" Look. He's attempting to be parental. "I am headed to eat, and you may join me if you like."
Cheusia says nothing more at the hmmph, taking it to express the need to think in silence. When the work if finished and he lifts the viewers her attention turns fully towards him. "I'm a little curious as to who requested such a thing. It seems more like a Lady Holder's trinket. I haven't eaten recently, no." She smiles and inclines her head. "After you."
"It is a Turnday gift for a senior Weyrwoman." That's all he'll say, and he'll stride through the door, out to eat with his daughter for the first time.