First Resort


Max.jpg W'red.jpg Olira.jpg

Date: 2010.11.02
Location: EW - Weyrlingmaster's Office
Synopsis: Arriving back at EW, Max goes to W’red and asks him to hide Kelarad’s cousin amongst the weyrlings.
Rating: PG13
Logger: Max

W’red is sitting in the plush chair behind the large desk, a pile of hides to his right another larger pile to his left, in front of him is yet another hide this one it appears he is writing on or about to write on, in his left hand is a glass, filled with what appears to be whiskey, although there is no whiskey container of any sort in sight. A long sigh of frustration escapes his lips as if he is trying to think of something that just seems to be escaping his thoughts for now.

Recently arrived back at the Weyr, almost literally straight off the dragon, Max makes his way across a bowl slowly starting to come to life as Rukbat’s rays probe further across the sky. At his side, a redhead (not the redhead he might usually be seen with either) who offers him a tentative smile for something said to her, face otherwise devoid of expression. Entering the barracks without so much as a by-your-leave for the weyrlings milling about readying themselves for the day ahead, he narrows a look at one or two dragonets that look about to set bite his butt, reaching for Olira’s hand as she hesitates and almost bolts in the opposite direction, to drag her along with him, “Ain’t gonna eat you, darlin’.” You sure about that, mister? His attention sweeping over those up and about, and appearing not to find whatever it is he’s looking, the beast manager heads straight for the Weyrlingmaster’s office, raps on the door and then is smacked square in the head by none other than a turnip! “What the fu…!” – “Jays! Sorry Max, he says it slipped…?” L’ron setting a dubious look to the blue who is now stalking closer, after his turnip, but the redhead apparently doesn’t know that and all but tries to climb up Max. “W’red!” he calls trying to keep the girl from totally freaking out as Balkrith stalks ever closer, “Open up, man!”

W'red leans back in the chair his left hand with the glass moving to his forehead and rolling it back and forth as if this will help him think, in the background he can hear the Weyrlings have stirred and some perhaps already out for breakfast, training starts in a short while and the run with the Weyrlings may well clear his head. He places the glass down on the desk and is about to get to his feet, when he hears distinct voices, L'ron and that turnip crazy blue, seem to be at it again, the knock on the door seems to have happened at the same time and W'red is about to yell through the door at L'ron, to control the turnip head, he hears a familiar voice on the other side, a faint smile creases his face as he shouts back, while settling back in the chair, "Come in, it's open just make sure that turnip brained dragonet stays out of the doorway."

As if it’s not enough what the poor woman has been through now there’s a dragon looking set to start eating her from the feet first. White faced Olira slides in behind Max putting him between herself and the oncoming blue. “Balkrith!” L’ron barks out in a voice far deeper and stronger than the beast manager has ever likely heard him use before. The edge of smile fits into his weary expression, hand reaching behind him for the door handle, “Boy grew some lungs.” Sounding impressed more than annoyed and with a swift kick of boot the beast manager sends the turnip spinning and skittering across the barracks floor with the blue bounding after it. The door’s open but a crack and the redhead slips into the safety of W’red’s office and then draws up short, back to the wall when she claps eyes on the big brownrider seated behind that imposing desk. Her chin goes up, shoulders square and she’s fitting him with an uncompromising look. Closing the door after him as he too steps into the room, Max sends a slight grin over to Eastern’s new Weyrlingmaster, “Heard about that one and the turnips.” As has probably half of the Weyr by now.

Sitting watching with a slightly bemused look on his face the brownrider doesn't move as the slip of a girl slides into his office followed by Max. W'red nods at the beastmaster, but doesn't make a move to get up as it seems the young girl might bolt if he makes any sudden move at all, instead his hand reaches for the glass abandoned earlier on his desk, he lifts it slowly to his lips and takes a sip, the fruity liquid slips down his throat easily as should juices drunk at this time of the morning. "That blue is still going to be the death of someone, he doesn't seem to realize he is getting bigger and the turnip chasing is becoming a problem, sooner or later he is going to bound over someone or bound into the wrong dragon and then there'll be bigger trouble than I need." Large shoulders lift and fall in a shrug, "anyway that's my problem now." Placing both elbows on the desk and leaning forward a little, W'red scans over the jittery girl and then over to Max, "So what brings you into the barracks at this early hour? Whatever it is you'll have to keep it short and sweet, I have a training run shortly and whipping this lot back into some sort of routine is proving a little more difficult than I first thought, so running with them at least ensures they all do it."

Now that she has a door between herself and the dragonets beyond, a transformation occurs with Olira going from the perception of the small and skittish young girl that had slipped into the office, to the worldly wise young woman she is as she draws up to her full height, a hardened countenance in place with just the hollowness in her eyes seeming out of place. She remains however, silent. Max casts another glance behind him, the edge of amusement trickling onto his face for the blue causing havoc beyond and then re-settling the carrysack over his shoulder turns his focus back onto W’red, “I’ll try to make this as quick as possible then.” Taking a few steps forward he halts just off to the brownrider’s left, “I need your help, W’red.” Dark eyes flicker over to where the redhead has taken up position, “She needs to disappear for a while, no questions asked,” tone and expression turned grim. And then with a jut of jaw down to the piles of paperwork strewn across the desk, “Figured you could do with an assistant to help out with all the more uhh…mundane tasks attached to your job, aye?”

W'red notes the change in the girl's demeanor, now that the door is closed and the Weyrlings and dragonets are beyond it. Getting to his feet he offers Max his hand in greeting, rising to his full height, which dwarfs a lot of people and gives him an edge in most situations whether needed or not. "Quick and thorough, something I learnt from a close friend." The brownrider remains standing now leaning forward slightly and leaning both hands on his desk, eyebrows raised slightly, at the mention of needing his help, he nods his head towards the girl, "She needs to disappear? Well from her reaction to the dragonets perhaps here is not the place?" His eyes briefly drop down to scan over the piles of hides, he is still old school and prefers the hides as that was how he was taught, then back to focus on the young man. W'red talks as if the girl isn't even in the room, "No questions asked is perhaps a little much to ask of someone so new to the weyr, newly appointed into a position of authority." The brownrider straightens up folding his arms across his chest, a deep frown creasing his forehead, "And what do I get out of this, besides someone to do the mundane tasks I don't like doing anyway?" A brief glance is thrown over towards the young woman, blue eyes scanning quickly over her form and a smirk forming in the corners of his mouth.

The hand offered in greeting is met with a firm clasp of his own, Max standing his ground, not seeming the least bit intimated by the taller and bigger built brownrider. Heck, he’d just stared down Tillek’s renegade crime lord. The very same man he’d swindled and then ducked and dived quite successfully up until having willingly exposed himself. A corner of his mouth curls up into an approving line for the quick and thorough comment from W’red, “Clever friend,” he gives, attention briefly following the Weyrlingmaster’s to where Olira is giving them both the nine yard stare. Lips press together and the beast manager nods through a sigh, “Aye, she’s…had some trouble. Needs safe haven to get her feet under her again.” And then a wry expression stretches out on the matter of her initial reaction to the dragonets beyond, “Exactly why here is the place. Ain’t no one gonna bother her with them about.” Stepping in closer toward the older man, his tone drops, keeping the next part of the conversation between the two of them just a hint of dark amusement for the comment made over positions of authority, “You wanted to the point, I gave you to the point. You want longer explanations then come find me down the beast caverns.” Realizing he’s asking a lot of a man so new to the Weyr, the beast manager offers the following forward, “What you get out of this is the satisfaction of affording a woman that has been violated somewhere to feel safe again, something to do to keep her from dwelling on it. I’m putting her with you because something tells me I can trust you.” Not to mention that puts Olira in close contact with Ahnika who has in some part, had a taste of what the poor woman is probably going through. With a slightly pointed lift of brow, “However, if you feel that’s not enough incentive of its own accord…” his regard turning probing, “then there’s a bottle of whiskey in it for you for each seven she’s with us.” All put in such a tone as to suggest he’s testing the measure of the humanity of the man before him.

Arms still folded across his chest, W'red listens eyes holding firm on Max, nodding slowly the smirk fades quickly and is replaced by the previous frown. "She has had trouble or she is trouble," the question is asked, but not waiting for an answer W'red continues, "A safe haven this may be but it is also not a place for idle hangers on, and if she is afraid of dragonets, then she ain't going to be much help to me other than to shovel hides around. Longer explanations are not needed, I just need to know who she is, who she is hiding from, how long she intends to hide."Stopping for a brief moment, he takes another look over at the young woman, "trusting me is one thing, leaving me with the responsibility is another." Unfolding his arms he reaches for the drink on the table, takes a sip watching the young beast manager’s face carefully, "If you level with me on what is going on here, give me reason to believe this is not going to become -my- problem, then I'll go along." The brownrider makes a gesture with his arm broadly waving across from one side of the room to the other, "this is now my domain, between Tavaith and myself no one will get in here or for that fact out of here if we don't want them to, but," there always has to be a but, "if this in anyway affects the Weyrlings or dragonets, I will drop her off at the beast caverns faster than you can blink." This is said in the deep baritone voice that indicates that there will be no compromise on this point. "These young ones are my first priority, and their wellbeing and safety comes first. I will help you…and her," he nods towards the young woman, "note my restrictions carefully though, so if there are things I need to know, then you had better keep me informed." The brownrider sits down in his chair again lifts his feet up onto the desk. "For now she can stay, I'll find her a cot and settle her in, after morning exercise." W'red focuses on the younger man, "Then you need to fill me in -if- there are things I -need- to know, whether in person or via a message, I really don't care but if by tomorrow this time I am not up to speed you will have her back in your rooms, we clear?" One eyebrow lifts in query.

Max's expression closes a little at the opening question, "She ain't trouble." Not directly and not that he knows of any way. Tired from not having gotten much sleep the night before, and not more than a little strung out from his recent meeting with Olira's cousin, the beast manager struggles to hold onto his temper, going quiet for a moment as he schools it back under control. Evenly stated, "And I need to know that I can trust you with the type of knowledge that could very well end up getting her and anyone else close to her dead if it fell into the wrong hands." Lips press into a thin line, and a sigh exhales as he palms a hand over his face and glances back at the redhead, "Look, there's trouble coming in the north, she's closely associated to a brother of mine," letting it sound like familial ties, "and can't be up there when it goes down. As far as anyone else, aside from you and I is concerned, she's just visiting here for a bit. There.will be a full cover story in place by tomorrow's end." If he's even the slightest bit ticked off by the brownrider trying to pull rank on him, he doesn't show it, save for the determined set of jaw and hard light in his eyes as he states in a low tone, "And Southern is mine." This to the responsibility and duties held under the topic of domains. That having been said he gives a curt nod of understanding on Olira being shipped down to the beast caverns should her presence be the cause of too much trouble for W'red, "Fair enough. I understand, what I ask is a lot. So whenever you feel her being here might run the risk of openly endangering the weyrlings, you be sure to let me know and I'll put her somewhere else." The wellbeing of the weyrlings just as much his concern considering his tie to a certain green pair. Dark eyes holding steadily to the Weyrlingmaster's blue the next words come sincerely given, "Thank you."

W'red nods, his head slowly, "Seems to me you are biting off more than you can chew at the moment, but if all you want me to do is a bit of babysitting then that's fine by me," the brownrider looks up at Max from his prone position feet still on the desk. "Trouble brewing in the North, let the Northerners take care of it, give me enough information and I'll have a few dragonriders go to wherever the trouble is and squash it before it becomes anything." A smile creases the riders face at the young man's claim on the Southern continent, "Southern belongs to the ones that protect it and look out for the best interests of the continent, but if it makes you feel better to think that it belongs to you then so be it." W'red isn't interested in the politics that go with who owns what and how they believe they own it, dropping his feet to the floor and sitting upright once again. "No one can get to her if she is in my care of that I can assure you, I just wanted to see if you were using me as a last resort, and not your first port of call. If anything goes down I can have close to a wing of riders here before you can say 'between' I still have a few friends around that would watch my back anywhere anytime just as I would theirs." W'red reaches for the now nearly empty juice glass and downs what was left, "you set up the background story as you like, if anyone questions anything, all they'll get from me is a blank stare and perhaps a grunt or two, I can be or act as I like, my history lets me get away with more than most folks would allow." Again a broad grin settles on the brownriders face, the thanks is waved away by a large hand.

A roughly amused snort greets W’red’s first with Max not denying it. Male ego of course, prevents him from agreeing however. That snort flows into a dark chuckle, “Don’t rightly give a wherry’s butt what happens in the north so long as it stays off of Southern.” Amusement lingers when the brownrider questions his words of claim made to the continent but he says nothing of it merely pointing out that the following, “Got trustworthy enough intel to suggest it could flow over down our way.” And then curiosity colors his expression and the Weyrlingmaster is set with a long look, “You and I should talk about those dragonriders you got up there. Like that T’bin chap? Useful.” He states an approving expression in place for those the big brownrider has at his back and still loyal to him. Arms fold across his chest, following the movements of the older man, sincerity in his tone, “First resort, W’red.” Low laughter appears for the ‘blank stare’ comment before putting a hesitant look first to Olira looking for all intents and purposes like she’s trying to lip read in order to figure out what’s going on between the men, and then his attention settles back onto W’red, “There is…one other thing…Ahnika needs to be allowed access to her as she has…” hesitating to say more than necessary on the matter and finally settling with, “an understanding of how to possibly reach out to the woman.” A frown flickering across his features for the green weyrling ever having been put in that position in the first place. “She’ll also be the one to talk to with regards to her,” Olira’s, “cover story.” Not expanding but providing enough hint that the green weyrling was apprised and aware of the situation at hand.

W'red chuckles, "Well if you don't care about what happens in the North give me the details and I'll have a few riders go and irritate the trouble doers, perhaps enough to put a stop to the trouble before it begins, most of the 'walkers' don't enjoy dragons and riders being involved in their business unless by prior arrangement." Walkers is the terms used by W'red's old wing for anyone not aboard a dragon, derogatory maybe but he certainly doesn't care and he doesn't bother to explain either if Max is as clever as he seems he'll figure it out quickly enough. "We can talk about them some time certainly, all riders are true to their Weyrs firstly but a few marks here and there bends their loyalties long enough if required, personally I have some closer that would do most anything for me without reward, T'bin being but one of them, but that is the way it works most anywhere." The brownrider notes the furtive look thrown the way of the girl, but doesn't take much notice, if she knows what is going on or not doesn't matter much, she will do as told, or W'red would allow the dragonets free access to her. This thought in his head he grins broadly again, "Mmmmm, Ahnika," the grin wavers briefly, "now that one is certainly a handful from the little I've seen, her and I are due for a little talk anyhow." W'red looks up at Max, "I'll decide who has access to the girl, remember -you- are leaving her in -my- care, if after my little chat with Ahnika she seems the most likely one to 'sit' this one then I'll allow it, or perhaps I should let the turnip head look out for her, he's more harmless than one of those irritating turnips of his blue."

Still somewhat amused himself, Max holds up his hands in warding gesture, "Much as I appreciate the offer, I'd prefer to walk into the peace gathering without a price on my head," or at least a bigger one than he might have earned himself by that time. A faint smirk touches onto his stubbled face at the term used and he nods, "Aye, but often you riders tend to scare the targets away before we've gotten the info we need out of them. Although…" and here his tone turns musing, "the hot stink of dragon breath down a man's neck should be quite the motivator to pulling intel out of him." He wouldn't!? Would he? Probably. Approving, "I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Weyrlingmaster." Well unless of course a certain green weyrling becomes an issue of stickiness between them. Talk of Ahnika being a handful, that draws a crooked grin and a faint nod of assent, "Aye, that she can be," seeming rather approving of this, "but," and there is always a but, "she's been through something similar herself, W'red. She knows what this woman's likely going through and can offer support on a level you or I can't simply because we're male. She's here to heal, aye?" and there's no denying the earnestness for this being the most important part of it all to the younger beast manager. "But I think I can leave that decision in your hands. Just give it some thought, aye?" Not about to question the brownrider's authority or jurisdiction over his charges. A softly amused snort greets comment on L'ron and his blue, "Kid's changed a lot since that blue got into his head," a fond note for the younger blue weyrling, former employer and daydreamer of note!

W'red's brow lifts and he leans back in the chair again making himself a little more comfortable, outside he can hear the weyrlings leaving the barracks for their morning exercise, they can carry on without him for a while, this is more interesting and he can't ignore a good challenge, "Peace gathering? It really sounds like you have taken on something that may be way bigger than you are, but it's your funeral. Dragonriders know how to be subtle is the need arises, we are not all buffoons that go charging into situations and cause havoc, and anyway who would know that you arranged it or sent them?" The brownrider laughs lightly, "Riders are a different breed, it could be the continuous having two voices in one brain thing, or it could just be simply how we are and that is why the dragons picked us out in the first place, some are non committal types that never have any fun other than fighting thread, others of us enjoy both sides of the mark, the risk factor plays a big part." Adrenalin junkies it seems, "After my chat with her I'll see if she is still so keen to be involved, but be that as it may, what about your mother our wily headwoman can surely play the role that as you say us -men- don't understand." He nods though and with a smile, agrees, "I'll use the little common sense I have and deal with the situation as I see fit and suitable, by the way what is her name or have you not given her one yet?" The comments on the blue rider taken note of but not commented on any further, the blue and his rider where W'red's problem not anyone else's, much to his distaste, as he detested turnips.

The brownrider's brows go up, and Max's pull down into a frown, dark eyes resting on the older man for a moment before he utters a low spoken, "Aye." He knows it but having never been one to back down from a challenge one can bet he won't be backing down from this one either. Lips quirk around a dry smile, "And then you get your dragons that can't keep a thing to themselves and broadcast what one's had for breakfast to the entire Weyr." Yeah, he's weyrbred enough to know to be wary of the draconic gossip chain. For a hearbeat a shadow enters the beast manager's eyes on riders being a different breed and why it is dragons choose who they do, but it's gone almost before it's really there. There is but a brief tightening of his jaw when the Weyrlingmaster looks to try and cut Ahnika out of the picture but to his credit, the younger man says nothing choosing rather to touch on the topic of his mother, "Ah Indira…I'd prefer she stay out of it until I've had a chance…" to figure out how to tell the woman without her tearing him a new one? Clearing his throat, "To get things put into place first." He decides to end with. Dark eyes flicker back over to Olira who by this time, has gotten thoroughly bored and is now making an idle inspection of her fingernails, "She ain't got one yet. Ahni…ka," almost slipping up and using the familiar nickname, "will give her one." Stubborn on that matter it would appear. But he leaves it there and takes a step back from the desk, announcing in normal talking voice, "Your help in this matter is highly appreciated, Weyrlingmaster and won't be forgotten, but I best get back to the beast caverns and see what other disasters have befallen them in my absence." Wryly given as he tips two fingers to his temple in a lazy gesture of farewell and then moves over to where the redhead has taken up post at the door. In low tone to her, "You can trust him, darlin'. But remember what I said, keep your nose clean and your head down, or I drop you in Vaput's lap myself." That causing the woman to send a pale glare the beast manager's way, and then he's gone back to whatever else is in need of his attention and leaving the two to get acquainted as the brownrider catches up with his weyrlings.

Closing Credit Music: Tears For Fears - Shout

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