Making Repairs

Xanadu Weyr - Store Room
The storerooms here are carved into the stone, stretching back deep underground. There is, after all, little need for natural light here; a series of electric lights are more than sufficient to illuminate smoothly cut walls and the assortment of supplies kept until they are needed once more.
For some of the things here, that time will be long in coming. Broken furniture and torn clothing awaits the opportunity for someone to repair it - or else the kindling and rag piles. Other items are more immediately useful; gently worn clothing and boots are neatly arranged in rows and on racks, especially in the quickly outgrown children's sizes, and an assortment of furniture and small appliances in functional condition await new homes.
A series of side rooms connected to the kitchen are the larder which feeds the Weyr through the winter. Sacks of grain lean against barrels of salted meat and wheels of hard cheeses stacked high. Refrigeration and dragonflight make for a more flexible winter diet, but it still takes a great deal of food to provide for this many people. The food is a tempting target for tunnelsnakes, and the occasional scuttle can be heard in the otherwise quiet depths of these caves.
Much of the stores are easily accessed, requiring only the appropriate permissions to be borrowed from. These supplies are, after all, here for the good of the Weyr and the people living here. A few rooms - those containing particularly valuable or dangerous items - are kept locked.

Early evening at Xanadu, most of the Weyr's population have or are making they're way to the caverns for a meal and drink, or a conversation with friends. Not Kera, she grabbed a quick bite on her way to the storeroom. She's got an idea in her head and now she just needs to find the materials she needs to do it. So that's why she's climbed up to the second row, perched between boxes with her feet dangling over the the empty air. Several boxes are under her on the floor, perhaps dropped down to make room for the apprentice. Right now, the only thing that can be see of he is her feet because she's burrowed in between the boxes, several look to have the covers pried off when they were searched through and dropped back into place haphazardly. "OH come on." the little apprentice healer mutters from somewhere behind the boxes. "Why mark it at tanned hide strips if there is now sharding strips in there." PLOP Another box is dropped down to give Kera more room to wiggle around.

Evening! That means it's past work hours and Darsce is off the clock! Yay! She leaves the boring note-reading (Did Ocelara REALLY have to include each and every detail of her activities in them?) and skips to the Steward's office. Well, boo. Where's he gotten off to? He mentioned something to those stardudes about a meeting, so maybe he's busy with that. Lesigh. She touched up the fake nails (she had them done at Ierne while hers grow out again) while flipping through pages of headwoman notations today, so now what to do, what to do? Oh! Storeroom inspection! That's on her to-do list. So she heads there without a clue as to exactly what she's supposed to be inspecting FOR. Maybe just to familiarize herself with what Xanadu stock in here? She heads down the first row. Boxes. Check. Looks up. Feet. Check. Wait, what? "Um hello?" To those feet.

The nature of reality is such that the perception of it does not always match the actuality. Kera has just discovered this fact in the form of the missing strips. She has also discovered that past performance is not an indicator of future gains. If this were a fact-finding trip, she might count it a success! Unfortunately, it is not. Disappointment can also be an educational experience. It appears, in fact, to be a somewhat common one. Jethaniel himself… has had his first extraordinarily educational meeting with the starcrafters, and is taking a break before the next informative experience. In theory, he should take the opportunity for dinner. In practice, he has a meatroll - which, technically speaking, is prohibited here for risk of attracting tunnelsnakes and other pests - and he's eating it as he goes back between the boxes to check on a materials list to see what might be applicable to certain starcraft projects. This is not his job. He should be asking the headwoman or a junior weyrwoman about this. However… he has not.

Kera shifts around so she can pull a box closer to her, a small bundle of brown firelizard is perched on the shelf above his little healer pet and peers down and under his perch, Minimur gives a little chitter, making Kera pause and tilt her head up to peer at her lizardy friend. "Are you laughing at me?" Another chitter from the young brown and Kera snorts. "Better not be, else you won't get those treats I got ya." That seems to calm the young brown as she resumes her search. Rifling aound a likely box, she pulls out something closer to what she is looking for, that is until the voice catches her attention. Very slowly, she pulls her feet towards her and they slowly slip out of sight from below. Kera goes still moment, as if she thinks no one has spotted her. A few seconds later, she wiggling around again and then her head appears and she peers down to the voice. Well of coarse it would be the Headwoman, who else would it be when she's making a huge mess. Wiggling fingers down to the woman, "Hello, 'evening ma'am."

Jethaniel hasn't asked her, has he? Tsk! It would be the perfect learning opportunity. Not that Darsce would be much help at this stage in the game. She'd likely delay his task anyway. What? Learning opportunities work both ways! It's dark back there in the recesses of this huge cavern and there's several dusty couches to… There's a startled, "Yeep!" from Darsce as the another box is pushed over the edge. She's got GREAT reflexes and manages to dodge it, wincing at the crash the wooden carton makes as it hits the pile. She's slowly backing down the aisle, unaware that the Steward is in here too, while watching the wriggling feet disappear. Ma'am? Who's she- Oh. "Hello." Little finger flutter.

It would have been an excellent learning opportunity. Jethaniel could also have explained politics, in the sense that when one has caused problems for a group, it may be politic to attempt to do something they like so they don't bring complaints. And yet, he hasn't - though it appears his intentions to avoid bringing this to the headwoman are being rather effectively thwarted by encountering her. It is, however, the crash that initially draws his attention. It is more effective than voices in that regard, and his gaze looks up and over Darsce to encounter a stack of boxes and a certain apprentice. He frowns, turning down that aisle, and it's not until shortly before his course would intersect with that of Darsce that he notices her. He stops moving, and reaches out his fingers toward her shoulder in an attempt to provide an early warning system in conjunction with a vocal response. "Ah." It's not a very good warning, probably because he's not sure whether to greet Darsce or ask the apprentice what she's doing.

Kera peers down from her little perch, as the Headwoman greets her. Noticing the mess she's made…OH this day gets better and better. The Steward himself is now on the scene. "I didn't know anyone else was in here… thanks for the warning…" this over her shoulder to the little brown perched above her. Looking back down. "G'evening sir. I gonna straighten all up when I'm done." Scooching back out of sight, she wiggle around so that she's in a seated position and peering back down again. "Um, since I'm up here, does anyone need anything?" She gestures to either side of her as her gaze scans the end labels she can see.

Oh those pesky starcrafters being all disgruntled and stuff! Darsce has a lot to learn about soothing ruffled feathers. She's never exactly done it and so Jethaniel is wise to have saved himself the headache of telling her how to do it. Well, future headache, because DURING the telling, she'd be smiling sweetly and gazing adoringly at him while nodding, but taking in… not a whole lot. She eyes the wreckage on the floor underneath Kera. The apprentice might anticipate a reprimand. "Don't call me Ma'am," she says instead, still backing up. Because there's a crazy girl throwing boxes around up there. A hand touches her shoulder and she recoils. "AHH!" Did I mention that she has great reflexes? She's now facing the Steward, having done so in one leap-twirl…kinda thingie. Iceblue eyes find Jethaniel. Speechless. Hello, this is my first day at work. I now have one white hair. Thanks a lot. Kera's question draws her dazed attention back over her shoulder. "Uh… what's up there? To find." Not that she'll remember, but, that IS why she's in here. "And what are you looking for?" That's to Jethaniel, because she'll help him find it when she's less rattled.

Jethaniel's hand jerks back as Darsce jumps, and he lowers his head with an abashed expression as he returns her gaze. Her motion was indeed quite graceful; under other circumstances, he would appreciate it. Under these, however… "I am sorry," he murmurs quietly for her ears, then lifts head, gaze, and voice to reach Kera. "…and what, precisely, was your plan regarding items damaged in the course of your investigations?" Jethaniel asks the disappearing apprentice… though in the moment while Kera is obscured, and as such does not have a view of her surroundings, Jethaniel's gaze lowers to Darsce once again, though he does not find any words to say before he once more looks to Kera as she speaks and demonstrates that he is once more observed. "Ah. Copper wiring, glass polish, and hydraulic fluid, among other things," he answers Darsce's question, then looks back to her. "It… would be useful for the starcrafters." Which, while it explains why he's the one looking for it, may not do so in a way which she comprehends.

Kera leans out a little further, after getting a sturdy hold on the shelf above her and peers along the labels in response to the Headwoman's question. "Some have lengths and scraps of material of differant colors, and hide squares." Too bad she's looking for longer strips. Jethaniel's question draws a frown to her features as she peers back down to the boxes. Damage? What damage? "There's nothin in them boxes that will break sir, those are all tunics and socks." Getting a good hold on the shelf suports, Kera starts climbing back down, pausing to give a soft little whistle before hopping down to a clear spot on the floor. Minimur churls softly before fluttering down to land on her shoulder. "I don't think I damaged anything sir." Peering between the two, the young healer gives a polite dip to the headwoman. "M'name's Kera." Not recalling speaking with the woman before, might as well let the woman know who's name she will be writing up reports on.

Darsce's breathing slows as Jethaniel speaks and a suggestive smile sneaks across her mouth, "Oh please, you can sneak up on me anytime." Then she might faint and he can catch her! The question of damaged items has her blanching. "That's something I have to uh, deal with, isn't it?" she whispers in an aside to him. She moves back towards the DMZ warily and begins to gingerly pick through the wreckage. "Sweaters." At least they aren't broken. "Belts…" She peers upwards, "Don't drop a carton on me, please." Oh will you look at that? "Tunics and socks." This is boring stuff. There's an eyetic over at Jethaniel's list recital and there's no asking him WHY he's looking for starcrafter's things, nope, not from her. Instead, "We have that stuff in here?" Who knew? "Ocelara ordered things for the Weyr, right?" That's directed over to Jethaniel. "I need to order some pretty lacy underthings and a storeroom for the Observatory." She'll get right on that. The healer apprentice gets an overly-patient smile, a very sweet one (beware of those), she drawls, "Hello Kera. I'm Darsce. Can you build wooden crates? Cos we'll need some new ones." Duh. She's being overly-obvious now.

"As you wish," Jethaniel replies to Darsce, returning her smile. As for her question… "Partially. You are secondarily responsible for the stores; primary responsibility lies with the junior weyrwomen." Except in situations where the primary and secondary are reversed. It's complicated. He follows her as she heads back to the drop zone, though he does not, himself, move to investigate any of the boxes. They appear unlikely to contain what he requires. "We may," he says to Darsce. "I am uncertain." Which is why he came to look! Personal experience is superior to theory. He'd have asked the juniors, but he's currently conducting careful information management regarding how news of the starcraft incident arrives to that part of the administration. As for the ordering… "Partially." It's complicated? "She provided requisitions, which are processed by the Steward," he smiles, "and ultimately approved by the Weyrwoman." Darsce's comments to Kera make him nod, and he frowns to the apprentice as he adds, "While the contents may be unlikely to be damaged by percussive force, the boxes themselves may." Just in case the headwoman wasn't obvious enough. "Furthermore, items are not always filed where they are intended to be. I do not advise relying on supposition in the future." He does not, however, make any notes for a report. This might mean he's letting it slide, or it might just mean he thinks he'll remember her name when he gets back to his desk.

Kera's gaze flicker back and forth between the duo, by the expression on her face, she's getting lost in the duties of Weyr hierarchy. With a little shake of her head, she crouches down next to the boxes, looking them over after "I've never done it before, but I guess I could if I have to." Poking and shifting one or two of the boxes, she frowns up to Jethaneil. "I checked them each even though they are labeled, was nothing but clothes." Gesturing to the box nearest her as she reaches into her waist pouch and ulls out her small notebook "Maybe a few taps on the joining points, and it's good as new." Scribbing down a couple of words in a halting manner, as if she wasn't sure how to spell them, she lists a brow at the Steward before depositing her notebook in her waist pouch. Minimur churls a soft greeting before winging his way up and over the shelves. Kera's gaze follows the young lizard as he bails. Typical.

Partially works for Darsce! It's like poetic license, right? She will make it her personal mission to (attempt to) liven these dull stores up! Oooh and processed by the Steward! Better and better! Lingerie list, coming right up! With pictures, so he'll understand what she's ordering. Does she get to boss people around too? Darsce could get into this. She almost wriggles as the thought occurs to her. "So tomorrow," she tells Kera cheerfully, "after your infirmary duties, please report to the woodcraft shop and make…" her pink-lacquered fingers make a swift count of the shattered and cracked cartons, "…three cartons. You may salvage the wood from these if the boards are usable. We can make, uhm…" Brightly, "Birdhouses with the rest. Or have a bonfire." Pfft! One or the other. There's a glance to Jethaniel, questioning, 'Right?' She in turn is lost in Kera's how-to make boxes. Yeah, she knows nothing about that.

Jethaniel will pay very careful attention to whatever Darsce asks of him. The format of such requests is left entirely to her discretion. That is, however, not his concern at present, and so he frowns to Kera's responses, but then Darsce begins to speak, and he turns his head to listen to what she says and pay careful attention. As he does, a smile slowly grows to replace that frown. That will be quite suitable, and her questioning look receives a nod of confirmation from the smiling Steward. There is, in fact, nothing he feels impelled to add.

Kera blinks at Darsce's punishment and peers back down to the boxes. Figuring it's probably best not pointing out she didn't actually break anything, the apprentice sighs and nods. She stacks one box onto another "Yes ma'am, I'll go get started on that." So much for the present she was gonna make. If she had found what she needed. But she didn't, so she won't. Grabbing up the two boxes she stack "I'll just get these moved out of the aisle and out of your way ma'am." A quick little headnod to both. "Sir." and then she scurrying off muttering as she rounds the corner "…should never come out of the complex."

Maybe this assigned position won't be SO bad after all. Making lists, sending notes that will wind up on Jethaniel's desk. This might be quite the interesting way to… work. She smiles back at Kera serenely, having no idea that she's not in agreement with her assessment of the cartons. Is it always this easy with people? Huh. Where's the fun in that? "Seeya," she says casually to Kera, though there's a peer after her at that disgruntled mutter. Her conclusion: "She needs a social life." She will see to it! She has this cute baby brother! Well now, they're alone and the Steward has a list. She kicks the piled mess of clothes to one side of the aisle to be dealt with later and sashays over to Jethaniel. Slipping her arm through his, she gives him a melting smile because he's so sweet to do errands for the starcrafters, "You're too nice to those guys. Let's go find your stuff." Is it anywhere near those couches in the back?

Jethaniel nods to Kera at the parting salutation, but makes no other comment. When one is in a position of authority, telling someone what to do is simple. Convincing them that your position is justified instead of arbitrary tends to present a harder challenge. Once the apprentice is gone, Jethaniel returns his gaze to Darsce, his head tilting slightly at her comment. A social life? …what's that? Perhaps Darsce will explain it to him. He smiles to her as she comes over, and leans in to touch his lips softly to her cheek. "Not precisely," he says as he begins to lead her back through the stores. "I have denied many of their requests, and am making an attempt to keep them sufficiently satisfied that they do not escalate those requests." His smile fades to a more serious expression. "I would prefer to explain the telescope incident to Thea myself." Instead of having it used as leverage.

Darsce is attuned to Jethaniel's facial expressions, so catches… puzzlement? "You know," One hand flitters expressively, "go out. On dates. Or with friends. Play. Do fun things besides sit and study all the time." She should be noting the labels on the shelves but she's watching him closely, iceblue eyes alight with curiosity as she walks with him. "What do you like to do to relax after work? Or for fun on your days off? Like… with your friends and stuff?" Hmm, so he's keeping greed and manipulation at bay, this she understands from prior experience in her line of work. Models oft get prodded to do more than asked for up front. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "They'd better be nice to you!" His next words draw her thoughts away from the potential of Jethaniel-abuse by starcrafters with a blink. Incident? There was one? Her eyes dart back and forth a few times, her brows knit. "The… button-push thing, right?" That's all she can come up with. She shrugs, "I wouldn't dream of telling her!"

"Perhaps she has one," Jethaniel replies on the matter of social lives and Kera. "She certainly seems to engage in a variety of activities." Only some of which end up with her name in official reports. She is, however, not someone with whom Jethaniel overly concerns himself. Darsce, on the other hand… has asked him a question. "I enjoy music," he tells her with a smile. "Poetry. The constraints of verse and meter make interesting patterns." Wasn't he looking for something? He's forgotten it, for the moment, instead looking at Darsce. "I read about interesting research, and work on small projects." There's really no mention of friends in there, though surely some must exist. Jethaniel lowers his head slightly at those narrowed eyes, as if to hide his smile for Darsce's defensiveness - though given the difference in their heights, it doesn't work very well. "Nice is not a requirement." Nor an option the starcrafters are likely to exercise. The smile drifts away once again, and he nods. "Yes. The telescope requires re-calibration. It may take several weeks."

Of Kera, "Maybe," Darsce says idly, her mind is much more engaged with the man beside her. "Yeah?" she says of music. "Do you ever go to concerts at the Harper Hall? We could go together." She tilts her head, considering the poetry, blue eyes taking on a hue more akin to crystalline arctic waters than ice, alight with interest. "I love poetry!" It's art, after all. "Can you write it?" She's strolling along the row with him, assuming he knows where glass polish and copper wire are kept, so she's no help, really. Research doesn't quuuuite get a grimace but heh, he'd probably lose her there. Instead she offers, "Hey if you ever need an assistant for one of those projects…" She's offering to be Egore? Ha! She bristles though at his meek acceptance to being 'mistreated'. "It is by me. Even if you weren't Steward, they should." Huff! Grrr. She'll get 'em! His smile disappears like the sun in her world and she stops walking as his words register. Recalibration is… not good, she's pretty sure. And several weeks?! "Oh, Jethaniel, I'm sorry." She knew this would happen if she remained. She drops her head, both dismayed and at a loss about how to fix - or prevent problems for him.

"Occasionally," Jethaniel says of those concerts at the Harper Hall. More often, he takes advantage of a technological solution and listens to previously recorded music. If, however, Darsce is offering to accompany him… he smiles. "I would enjoy that." Her appreciation of poetry makes his head tilt further toward her, watching her expression as his smile grows in response before he glances away. "I… have attempted it," he admits. "I have not been satisfied with the attempts." And, as such, they have never been seen by eyes other than his own. The offer of her assistance in his projects draws another smile, but… "Perhaps. I will consider if there is a suitable one to interest you." Ideally, one where she's not going to electrocute someone if she gets bored at the wrong moment… but he expects his technological hobbies - as they have been demoted by his promotion to Steward - are not ones likely to be shared. He's used to that. Just like he's used to occasional impoliteness, though he agrees, "They should, indeed." Darsce is correct, but should is not the same as do. As she stops, he does as well, turning to face her. "I know," he says softly. His arm slips from hers, but he reaches for her hand instead. "I am resolving the situation." His hand seeks to draw hers upward, his head to lower and brush his lips to the back of it.

Darsce would give much to see his poetry attempts says the soft smile meant to be, well, not quite wheedling, but certainly encouraging. "Art," says she pertly, "is subjective. What you dismiss might be another's bliss. But I know there is no critic as harsh as the self." But she moves on to other topics, not pressing to be allowed to assist him with his projects because, heh, she is rather a disaster waiting to happen most times, isn't she? She does, however note, "Sometimes chemicals do very interesting things." Besides blow up. So she might be interested enough not to get bored? But she would definitely be a possibly liability. Living on the edge, for the win? His arm slips from hers and she watches as her hand is lifted, his lips brush the back of it. He's so gallant! In spite of the wince over his trouble, her lower lip caught in her teeth, she half-smiles at that. "I know… but you shouldn't have to. I should pay for it; I can." She has a savings. Of course, she has no idea how many marks it would take.

Perhaps it's the very subject that makes Jethaniel hesitant to share his attempts at poetry, but he nods. "I may be wrong," he says with a smile. "I am not an artist." Despite his attempts, easily dismissed by him as unworthy. Most of those pages have long since been thrown away, but some are merely tucked out of view, hidden away in his books until such a time as he may yet revisit them. As for chemicals… oh, that nearly makes him laugh. "Indeed so." Perhaps an investigation behind the science of perfume? But theory and practice both will have to wait for another time, because there are more pressing concerns. Jethaniel keeps her hand held, his gaze lingering on it. Her face is merely glanced to, for the unhappy expression there is not one he wishes his eyes to rest on for long. "Monetarily speaking…" he trails off, considering for a moment on facts and figures. "I can take it from the headwoman salary." Easier to take something not yet given than accept something already earned - or at least, he finds it so. "An adjustment scaled over a term…" technical language, though not for technology, and his fingers squeeze hers softly. "I do not have to. I could permit the situation to be resolved directly." By angry starcrafters. "I do not wish to see that resolution."

Darsce just smiles. He may not be an artist, but he IS art; she's seen him in that kilt. Legs, very nice! She doesn't voice that, however. Chemicals, though. "I once saw a magician pour two clear liquids together, count to three and the whole beaker instantly turned yellow all in one shot. HE said it was magic, but I think he lied." And knowing her, she told him so. The unhappy expression of hers flickers to that half-smile and then back to attentive contrition and something else - a businesswoman's comprehension: she understands scaled adjustments and term payments. "That's fine," she says, quite a bit of relief in her voice. She doesn't need the salary badly. Or at all, really, though she certainly will have no trouble finding uses for it. She listens to his explanation with a growing softening to her expression. Aww! He's just gone into the stratosphere in her estimation, if indeed, it's possible for him to rise any higher. "I…see." She's learning from him a little bit of grace, even if she still uses it selectively. A breath is taken before she says sincerely, "Thank you, Jethan-" aaand she has to swallow the urge to cry all sudden, so his name is abbreviated.

"Hardly magic," Jethaniel says. "A simple chemical reaction-" and if she likes, he can demonstrate that and a variety of others, complete with explanations of exactly what chemical properties are responsible for each one… another time. For now, Jethaniel nods to her agreement with relief of his own, his eyes lingering more on her face. Changing numbers in a ledger… that, he can do, though accounting is also not magical. Fortunately, even if Jethaniel passes through the stratosphere, he's still got a mesosphere to travel through - at least if he doesn't freeze or fall back again to burn like a meteor or crash into the ground… or whatever the non-metaphorical versions of those might be. He smiles, hesitant, at her comprehension, and then her gratitude makes his smile grow less hesitant - but only for a moment. His fingers squeeze against hers, and he lifts that hand to brush his lips to it once more, then rest it against his cheek softly, his eyes closing. "I should play a song for you." Not that he's a musician - any more than he's an artist - but his technology will suffice to the purpose. He rests his head there for a moment, and then his eyes open again. "I have another meeting tonight." A small pause. "With the starcrafters." Another pause, and then he smiles slightly. "I will do whatever I can for you, Darsce. But… please be careful?" There are some problems even he can't fix - and even the ones he can are sometimes difficult to resolve. This one will soon take him away, to a night-time meeting likely to be both long and contentious… and he doesn't even have the supplies he was hoping would help placate those starcrafters. Nevertheless, Jethaniel is glad he went to the stores.

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