Dressing Down


Indira.jpg Harson.jpg Warin.jpg Fiala.jpg

Date: 2010.12.22
Location: EW - Living Cavern
Synopsis: Freakishly early morning in the living caverns finds Indira meeting up with Harson Warin and trying to riddle out a problem while tending to an exhausted Fiala.
Rating: PG13
Logger: Indira

It's early. NOt just early, but bloody early. The first pastries of the day aren't even out yet, and the overnight stew is looking a little worse for wear, the accompanying bread somewhat stale. Warin is sitting at a very empty table with some hides, eating a bowl of the aforementioned stew and bread, with not only his customary fruit juice but also a more surprising mug of klah in front of him.

Early it might be for most, however not for the Headwoman. Not if the staccato clip of boot heels to floor as she enters the largely empty living caverns is anything to go by. If anything, she looks to be a woman on a mission. Stopping by the serving counters where a lass has fallen asleep perched on a stool with head resting on folded arms, she smacks her clipboard to the counter and summarily sets the poor girl to almost falling off her seating. “Late night, Ebania?” Smiiirk! Whether or not she has noticed Warin at his empty table, remains to be seen.

Harson is skulking around the kitchens this time of day. He's not very good at it though. Not only does his size make it counterintuitive, but he's clumsy as a young pup. Thus, he's being scolded out of the kitchens by the head cook who is flapping a towel his way and the last of her raspy voice following his stumble into the living cavern, ".your filthy hands out of the muffins!"

Warin is engrossed enough in his hides that he also starts as the clipboard hits the table. He's about to say something to Indira when he hears the cook's lament, and he glances over in the direction of the voice. Spying Harson, he appears completely unsurprised, and even smirks. Then he says "Ah, just the two people I was looking for. Headwoman, Harson here has pointed out that a young woman working here is wearing clothing which would reflect badly upon us, and I told him I would mention to you or your assistants to keep an eye out for her."

Fiala stumbles into the cavern, hands and face freshly-scrubbed, but her dress looking rather rumpled. It is the same one she wore while travelling to the weyr, patched and mended and shabby. It currently has a few damp patches on it, and the girl smells strongly of… stable. She rubs at her eyes and sits down at a table, bowing her head, perhaps just resting for a few moments.

Having that small window into the kitchens through the serving hatch, Indira catches Harson being herded out of her kitchens. Lips press together and a brow goes up, sloe eyes however carry a hint of amusement as he stumbles into the living cavern itself, “Lose something?” That comment coming from Warin has the Headwoman turning slowly about, her other brow joining the other as she sets him with a flat look, “Oh aye? And what…” turning from the steward back to the other young man, smirking slightly, “do you constitute as reflecting badly upon us….?” Leaving a pause for Harson to supply his name. Fiala’s entrance, given that the living cavern is all but deserted, is caught from the corner of her eye.

Harson gives a toss of his head towards the kitchen and though his cheeks are a nice rose color. The dark look is met by a: "You roll your eyes at me again and I'll roll that head across the floor… " from the head cook. The stare-off lasts a moment longer and the young man gives up, only to find Warin smirking at him. Likely not the best combination. Hari doesn't look nearly as amused and offers a belligerent flex of his shoulders and tops it with a cocky out-thrust chin until the assistant to the steward moves onto another conversation. Sadly, he finds himself pinned by Indira and his posture deflates and he shuffles to try to avoid direct contact with the Headwoman. "Eern-nojust looking f-forhuh?" A quick look down at himself and his clothes, a little adjustment, fussing with the edges of his tunic nervously, but as everything appears in order, he'll just toss out his name, "I'm H-Harrison, weaver apprentice."

Warin sobers up inexplicably, then says in a businesslike voice "He said that it seemed the Weyr can't take care of its own, and that he would not allow his sister to appear in public dressed like the young woman he was discussing." He glances over as Fiala stumbles in, but does not appear to recognize her as the topic of the conversation. He also appears to be filing away Harson's formal name, and a faint smile resurfaces at the Weaver's discomfort.

Fiala's head droops further, and she yawns widely. She jerks straight a few times, then slumps forwards, her head thumping on her arms, and on the table. She murmurs something unintelligible, then begins to snore softly.

That look coming off of Harson and directed to her head cook earns the young man a look from Indira. One which reads – Just try it and you’ll have me to deal with, sonny. Her attention remains on him for a moment longer, “Weaver apprentice Harson,” repeating the name as if trying to place him, “Visiting or…?” because he has yet to present himself officially to her. That dark gaze swings back onto Warin next as he elaborates, lips twitching as if she’d just tasted something bad in her mouth, “Did either of you,” voice dropped to a dangerous low of warning, “stop to think that whomever this young woman is that you seem so quick to station yourselves above, might not have the resources at her disposal that the two of you might have?” Yes, she’s taken note of Fiala’s position in relation to where they are and is keeping her voice low for the young girl’s benefit, (even if she does seem to be asleep) although there is a light frown at play for the girl having obviously not heeded her words and gotten herself clothing from the stores as told to do.

Harson's jaw works but his face is rather drained of color at the moment and he shyly refuses to meet Indira's gaze. That could be taken for disrespect, but the way his shoulders are sinking down, the fear response is pretty easy to read. For a moment he's silent, just chewing on his tongue to get it unstuck from the roof of his mouth. After a moment he clears his throat and shuffles his big feet, "I…ah…w-well, I have just recently arived from the h-h-h…hall…" Clearing his throat he shoots a dark look towards Warin for getting him into this pickle and then tries again. "I tried to t-talk to the girl about her dress. B-but she said she didn't deserve the clothes from the weyr store r-rooms. I just thought…someone could r-r-reasure her that she works for the weyr and the weyr should provide for her." The last spoken a little stronger, less stuttery.

Warin begins to say, "Your pardon, Headwoman. I was given to understand that all Weyr residents can requisition…" Then he hears Harson begin to speak and gives the young man his due. As Harson concludes, he simply says "Precisely. What he said."

Fiala coughs softly, and her hands twitch, tangling in her hair. A few stray bits of straw tumble from the tangle of red and onto the floor. She murmurs softly, an indistinct sound with little meaning. She shifts a littlethen begins to list sideways.

The dark blonde brow remains arched upward for a moment or two and then collects itself toward the other in a frown as Harson first displays fear and then stutters his way through an explanation of his own. With a brief roll of sloe eyes, "For Faranth's sake, I don't eat firestone for breakfast despite what rumors you might have heard." Those being in coupling the Headwoman to the whispered name of 'Dragon Lady' for the manner in which she's capable of taking someone to task. "Right. Score one point to you for at least trying to speak to the young woman in question." Attention snapping back to Warin as he then speaks up, "Your understanding is correct. Did it however cross your mind that the young woman might be either just visiting or…new to the Weyr entirely and thus unsure of herself and her rights here? A Weyr," she notes, "can be very overwhelming on first look, aye?" The cough coming from where Fiala had been snoozing catches the Headwoman's attention just in time to see her listing off to one side. "You two wait here," she gives the young men and quickly closes the distance. "Wake up, darlin'," this given in soft enough tone so as not to startle the poor girl right off of her seating entirely, despite how she'd snapped the serving girl awake just earlier.

Harson looks through his lashes at Indira with his chin tucked in at the moment and utters a few half formed words at the Headwoman's reassurances. RRrrrright., no firestone. Who is she kidding? His gaze falls away and he grinds his teeth a bit in silent frustration and doesn't attempt any more stuttered speech for the moment.

Warin also remains grimly silent, merely watching as the Headwoman shows a rare gentle side.

"Mmm? Fiala blinks, stirring slightly, then opening her eyes. "Uh… nuh… jus' little more…" She blinks dazedly, then lifts her head. "Wha— oh! Oh! I'm sorry! Fiala leaps to her feet, and half-falls anyway. She offers up an embarrassed, apologetic smile. "Sorry, ma'am. Just… tired."

Frowning down at Fiala as she mumbles and then starts to her feet, “Right, I think Max and I are going to have a word. In the meantime, you’re going to eat, bathe and go to bed.” Mama bear much? Turning head over shoulder she sets attention and words to Harson first as he’d just been in the kitchens, “Be a dear and head back into the kitchens and ask Cookie for a bowl of fresh chowder won’t you?” demeanor having done an about face with her fitting a smile onto the young man. Perhaps she is as ‘unhinged’ as some whisper her to be? Quickly adding in, “Tell her I sent you.” Just in case the shy lad finds himself on the wrong end of a rolling pin. She doesn’t wait to see if he complies, merely expecting him to do so. Warin is next as she gives a nod of head to where an ever present supply of fresh klah is kept brewing, “Would you be so kind as to get her a mug of klah, lots of milk and only a little sweetener.” Handing out orders left, right and centre she is. Although all done with a smile and quick efficiency of position.

Harson's jaw tightens at the order to fetch food. He gapes a moment at the Headwoman and just points towards the kitchen in a silent pantomime of : ::Didn't you just see me come out of there:: flap of long arms. A roll of his eyes and a huff of breath like an indignant bull he throws his chin out and goes stalking towards the kitchen. It would be terrifying if he actually knew his size and how to use it. There's the sound of muffled shouting from the cook and a pot clanking and an answering, muffled stuttering from Hari. In the end he does come back with the soup and a fresh scowl hardening on his youthful features.

Warin gets up and brings his mug of tepid klah over to the pot, warming it up and settling it aside before he pours about half a mugful for Fiala. He adds a spoon of sweetening and then enough milk to bring the mug full, and deposits his mug back on the table before taking the beastherder her mug. He returns to his table, his mouth twitching as if he wants to say something, but he holds his counsel for now.

Fiala blinks rapidly, and her lip trembles as if she is about to cry. "No… no, please, I…" She sags a little. "'Ere's some baby herdbeasts as need caring for; the mother died or some such. I dunno the whole story. But so I've been feeding the pair of them and they need looking after something awful. And so I've had to be up tonight. And last night." She sways a little, then sits down. "I think. I'm not sure what day it is. Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do aught wrong."

Indira is apparently unaffected by the 'indignant bull', merely setting the arm flapping Harson with a look that will brook no further arguments. And although she wears a faint smirk for the commotion his re-appearance in the kitchens causes, she does wince a little at the banged pot, hoping to Faranth he'd not been beaned with it. And so it is that when he returns with the requested bowl of soup, he's rewarded with a warm and approving smile for not only having carried out the task but having gone back into the 'tunnelsnake pit', to do so. "Thank you, Harson." Warin arriving with the mug of klah earns himself a similarly approving smile of warmth. However it slips off when he returns to his table once again, looking to be irked by something or another. She sets that aside for the time being, frowning heavily and even looking a little wary as Fiala looks about set to cry. Lips press together for the girl's explanation and she moves the bowl of soup and mug of klah before her, "You've done nothing wrong." She re-assures, "Does Max know you worked two night shifts in a row?" For usually the beast manager is very good about rotating his 'hands out. She'll wait a short moment for the girl's answer before nodding to the sustenance, "You get that in you, aye?" And then with a flicker of eyes to Harson, either inviting him to join her, or stay with Fiala, whichever he prefers, moves over to where Warin has retreated to.

Harson silently sets the bowl of soup down at Fiala's table while not looking directly at the girl. He lingers there at the table's edge to listen in on the exchange between girl and headwoman and his jaw works silently when no comment is made in regards to getting her some better clothing. Perhaps it's not the best time to add that to the weight the girl is carrying. When water-works appears to be in close proximity he backs up a step and hisses towards the headwoman, "D-do-don't make her cry…" Torn between following the headwoman or staying with the girl there isn't really a safe option so for the moment he stands there, trying to decide what to do.

Warin isn't so much aggrieved as wanting to explain himself, so when Indira approaches he says respectfully, "I was led to believe that she was a member of the Weyr, ma'am, which is why I wanted to bring it to your attention or to that of your assistants. I have a name for the young woman but I've not yet met her, and I didn't want to overstep my bounds in seeking her out."

At the hissed comment coming from Harson, Indira’s brows hike upward and it’s oddly enough an approving smirk that graces her lips rather than a frown, “The pup has teeth.” A hand reaches out as if to pat against his chest as she passes by, “Good for you!” No really. Good for him. She likes to see backbone in people. Coming up alongside where Warin is seated, the meticulously coiffured head of dark blonde hair tips to one side as he explains, “Never feel it out of the bounds of your duties to assist someone in need, Warin. Clothing, food, you should always feel at liberty to do so.” Of course, the assigning of dorms and issuing of knots, is another matter entirely. It’s just then that a dragonrider steps into the living caverns and heads straight over to the Headwoman, a bottle of wine in one hand and a message pouch in the other. Knowing immediately the source of at least the message pouch, she blinks and quickly clears her throat as she reaches for it. “This too ma’am,” the bottle held out as well. Blink. Silently Indira takes it, dismisses the rider and notes to Warin, “Come by my office later and we’ll talk more of this.“ A glance to the silent Harson and then she’s making a quick stop by Fiala, “Eat, bathe, bed.” Repeating those instructions firmly before she turns on heel and is gone out of the caverns as quickly as she can without raising suspicion. Hopefully.

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