Xanadu Weyr - Stables
The Stables of Xanadu Weyr are composed of one long building, lined with box and standing stalls that are kept thoroughly clean by the resident grooms and stablehands. Runners nicker and neigh at everyone who enters, save for the obstinate ones that just flicker their ears in indignant curiousity that they dare not make visible. The foremost stalls near the door to the Barn Yard are the grand box stalls which are home to the prized runners of Xanadu, as well as the most pregnant, those which are so far along that they require constant observation by the Herders, so as to ensure easy foaling.
However, the primary design of stall which lines the broad pathway that is covered in saw dust which is the main avenue of the Stables, is that of the Standing Stall. Many runners are in the standing stalls, with ropes strung across the front so as to keep the runners from leaving their designated containers. A few hay bales sit here and there along the avenue, some of which act as seats for the stablehands and grooms on their breaks, others as snacks for those runners who can reach out their necks far enough. Buckets and baskets of grooming supplies, brushes and combs, and the like also sit here and there, occassionally knocked over by a wayward hoof or inquiring muzzle.
A hot, humid afternoon is now shading into evening. Just about suppertime, and around the stables, various apprentices and stablehands are trying to finish up their chores so they can be free. Jarse has been tucked away in his office for a while, and now he emerges, a sour expression on his face as he surveys the stable. "That hay's not deep enough," he snaps to one apprentice cleaning, then stalks further along the stalls.
Idrissa had actually been done with her chores for the day rather early, she had a half day as that is how it played out it would seem. She is leading Red Feathers back towards his stall, the runner just recently getting a washing to get sand and sea salt off to prove the pair had been out for a ride near the beach it seems. The voice of Jarse is caught and she cringes as she catches sight of him, or well his back as he is in front of her some distance away and standing pretty much in front of her runner's stall. Great.
Down along the stable Jarse goes, his glare increasing with every stall he goes past. "You call that groomed?" he informs another of the apprentices. "Do it again." He stalks on, then glares disapprovingly at a stablehand until the poor fellow fumbles the bucket of water he's carrying and it spills across the floor. Jarse reaches the end of the stable, and casts his gaze back and forth before turning around. His gaze alights on the new arrival. "Idrissa!" he bellows, glaring at her. "My office. Now!" He storms back toward her and his office beyond.
Idrissa is able to at least make it to the right stall and trys to sneak inside it with her runner but then, she is caught! Of course she is. The girl quivers a moment and soon swallows; Red Feathers gives her a little nosing before he is off to chew on a pile of hay that is there. A soft sigh escaping her, the door is pulled closed and she soon moves towards where Jarse's office is. Once at the door she stays put. "Yes sir?" Is questioned with a unsure tone.
Jarse stalks on past to his office, and settles himself down in his chair. He stares at Idrissa for a long moment, then points a hand to the other chair. "Sit." He leans back in his seat, staring at her like he did that imperfect stall and improper runner. No, actually, the glare he gave to them seemed more charitable. Somebody appears to be in a Mood today.
Idrissa bites down upon her lip at this and promptly sits down when she is told to. As for him staring at her she is unable to look at him. Her head is lowered slightly, her eyes closed tightly even for a few moments as she has no clue what is or could be happening. What could he possible take from her /now/?
Jarse regards Idrissa for a long moment. A long, long moment of silence. Looking. Judging. He steeples his hands in front of him, regarding her down his nose and leaning back comfortably in his chair. "So. It's been a while, hasn't it?" No need for him to say since what. "Report."
Idrissa peers up at Jarse a few moments, a soft ah escaping her and she coughs. She was supposed to report to him? Well that was something she must have forgotten! "I… Well I've done all the stable hand work that you have required of me to do. I've managed to make four marks as well." So four more and that'll be eight!
Jarse still has that sour face, listening to Idrissa. After she's spoken, he says, "I see." He's silent again for a long moment, watching her. Giving her a chance to think twice, three times, maybe four, and then he leans forward in his chair, putting his elbows down on his desk and his face closer to hers - though there's still a desk between them, but this is a rather small office, isn't it? It is. "Four marks. Hmm." There's another a moment of silence, and then he smiles slightly, a tight-lipped, condescending little smirk. "Well, I suppose that's only to be expected. So tell me, Idrissa, what have you learned from this?"
Idrissa is use to the sour look from Jarse, he always has it after all. Perhaps someone could hit him on the back to make it disappear? Once he leans forward she moves back to the very back of her seat, attempting to play keep away in the small space. "Um, yes sir.. Four marks." The smile from Jarse makes her worry, when he smiles she's learned it is never a good thing. At the question she peers at him, bright green eyes un blinking as she wonders what she could possible answer. If she had a sharp tongue she would think of a few things indeed but none that cross her mind are one she would normally say. Her head lowers a touch more, gaze settling on the ground as she looks at a piece of hay. "I've learned not to talk back or question a journeyman. They are the teachers and I am the student." In truth the only thing she learned is how much she really doesn't like Jarse, and for Rissa to not like someone it has to take a lot to make that little list of hers.
Jarse waits for that answer, and the fingers of one hand begin to tap slowly against the desk softly. Just a little bit of motion, a touch of apparent impatience. But he's oh so gracious (or so the gesture is meant to convey). He'll wait for as long as it takes. He nods to Idrissa's answer, accepting it… oh, wait. "What else?"
Idrissa twitches slightly once that tapping on the desk starts, it's like a clock ticking during a test ever teasing that your taking too long. At the question she peers at Jarse. What else?…. What else could there possible be? The confused look is clearly seen across her face. "I don't think I understand. I've learned not to talk back sir. I thought that was well, the main part of this?"
So soft, the tapping of his fingers, and yet it manages to fill the silence. Jarse raises an eyebrow at Idrissa's response, then casts his eyes up to the heavens with a dramatic sigh. It's a plea for patience, except the slight curve of his lips as he lowers his gaze to Idrissa again is rather odd for that. "Halfway there," he says with a little shake of her head. Is he still talking about the marks? Maybe. "Beastcraft is about more than riding around on runners all day," Jarse says, speaking slowly and carefully and keeping his gaze on Idrissa. "You have some modicum of talent, but that's not a reason to get above yourself." His expression shades to stern. "In fact, that's all the more reason for you to ground yourself in the basics." Like mucking stalls. Jarse smiles in a way that's supposed to read as benevolent but looks more like condescending. "Now, what do you think of that?"
Idrissa just blinks while she watches Jarse a few moments. "Is that what you think I did, just ride runners all day?" The nights of staying up late with a colicing runners, helping with new foals, checking on the sick runners all the time and basically not leaving the stables until she was sure all the runners that she was working with was well taken care of. "I've never thought above myself, sir. I work with the runners because that is what I want to do, I stay up late at night caring for them because I want to and the only way to learn is by putting in the time and effort to do so." As for learning, she can't really recall anything useful that she has even learned from Jarse to this day. "I've done the work you have asked me to, I'm collecting the marks you have required of me, and by doing so I've lost weeks of lessons to try and prove to you that I am right for the position." There is a pause. "I'm sorry for raising my voice to you, how many times would you like me to say thissir?" When this is all said and done she is not at all sure where she managed to find all those words, and there is fear, plan as day seen across her face as she is unable to take any of them back. Along with the fear on her face there is tears resting at the corners of her eyes and she is doing everything she possible can do not cry at the moment.
Jarse's eyebrow rises a little at Idrissa's initial retort. Now then, what was that about respecting journeymen? He shakes his head slowly. "Temper, temper," he says in a smug tone, as if he's unaware of just how very punchable his face probably looks right now. Of course, if she did that… ooh, if she did that, he would have a wonderful excuse, now wouldn't he? He could deliver that paperwork with a black eye or bloody nose of explanation for why this apprentice is on the punishment roster. It would so be worth it. Sadly (and his lips do purse slightly as she apologizes again), it seems that's not to be. His gaze lingers on her face, and he leans back in his chair again. "Oh, yes. Your lessons." He considers a moment. "Very well. As I said, you do have some talent." He smiles, condescingly, and leans down to pull out a drawer and take a beastcraft apprentice's knot from it. "Here." He tosses it toward her. "Show me what you've learned."
Idrissa isn't one known for even having a temper, so hearing those words from Jarse makes her just stare at him as if he has two heads. A hand lifting to wipe at her eyes while she lowers her head looking rather beaten as she just waits for him to send her out of the stables at the moment and never to return. After speaking out like she did the thought of hitting anyone never even entered her mind, as if she could even bring herself to do such a thing. As the knot is tossed at her she cringes a moment and the knot smacks into her chest falling to the ground, where she eyes it a few moments before looking back to Jarse. "What's the catch?" Nope she doesn't trust him at all.
Jarse leans back again in his chair. "There isn't one," he says. "I've simply decided you get another chance. You've worked hard, made good progress toward your goals, and you've retained the passion that will help you made something of yourself, as well as truly proven your desire for this craft.." He spent so long thinking up that line. After every apprentice's data for the hours since A'dmar left, he tried a different version of it, a new iteration of how he was going to do this while still being able to give his benevolent (smug) smile. He didn't need to practice the smirk. That comes naturally. "Congratulations, apprentice Idrissa."
Idrissa bites her lip while she hears this, wait what? "Help me make something of myself?…" She was before he took her knot from her. There is a glower, or is that a glare while she just eyes Jarse a few moments. What to say, or well not say because anything else would for sure get her into trouble. She leans down to pick up the knot. "I have a request." An before he can even say what she goes on asking it. "I want to put in a request for a different Journeyman." There are other Journeman at the Weyr after all. She clings to that knot while saying this, let's see him try and take it from her now. "I'm willing to go to the BeastCraft Hall to ask for it." So either Jarse can go about working it out and she'll do it herself. Maybe she should have just went to the Hall and asked instead of bring it before Jarse.
Such a benevolent journeyman is Jarse. "It is the challenges in life which make us stronger," he intones, smiling. It was all a test, you see, and she passed! At least, according to him it was a test. According to him, retroactively. Close enough. His eyebrow twitches as she says she has a request, and when she actually makes it, there's that sour frown again. "Very well then," he says, and his tone sounds almost petulant. "I suppose you'll want Keziah and her caprines?" he asks, pausing a moment to let the words sink in. "Perhaps Jeniosa and her felines?" A small bit of that smirk has reasserted itself. "Or, if you're still stuck on runners, you could ask Anoryn. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable there. You might have a more… compatible mindset." He did not say 'because you're both female'. Just implied it. He continues, "Convince another journeyman to accept you, and I shall approve the transfer." Is he going to do the work of asking them? Shards no!
Idrissa this is the moment that she wishes Keziah did work with runners, though she doesn't. Still unknown to Jarse Rissa here knows stuff about the caprines as well, she is a jack of all trades when it comes to the hoofed beasts. "No I will stay with runners. There is Anoryn, Amelia, and Mackavol." Seems she has down her homework on whom to ask. "I wouldn't expect you to do the work. I'll be asking them myself." She doesn't want him to ask on her behave after all. All the looks he has been giving her has done nothing to stop her from coming to this conclusion it seems.
Jarse nods. "Do so," he says with a wave of his hand. The frown is beginning to creep back onto his features. "Until then, I expect to see you at lessons and doing standard apprentice chores." He doesn't bother with the smile anymore, his lips curving down further as he makes another abrupt flick of his hand. "Dismissed."
Idrissa doesn't even pay attention to the frown, she shifts upwards standing, her form quivers a moment. "Yes sir." Is said to the lessons and standard chores, along with being dismissed. She turns and is gone without a glance back, still gripping at her knot rather tightly as she goes.
Jarse sinks back into his chair with a petulant sigh. He stares across the room for a long moment, then shakes his head. "I don't care for this new Weyrleader at all," he murmurs, before sitting up again and pulling out the paperwork he'll have to hand in come morning. At least now he can write Idrissa's name as 'apprentice in good standing' without risk of getting caught perjuring himself. At least there's that. Still, his sour mood is back, and it lasts the whole night long.