Xanadu Weyr - Weyrleaders' Office
Office and retreat, this is the domain of Xanadu's Weyrleaders. The door is in the eastern wall, quite close to the southern end while the northern wall is dominated by big, expansive windows, framed by sumptuous deep blue drapes edged with a brilliant gold braid and tied back with a thick rope of braided gold and blue cord. In between, the eastern wall is covered floor to ceiling with shelves that house all sorts of records, manuals and supplies that are used on a day-to-day basis. The southern wall has the Weyrleader's desk — plain fellis wood, well polished and masculine. From behind his desk, the Weyrleader can look straight through the windows and out onto the main airspace of Xanadu. The western wall is where the Weyrwoman's desk resides: a lovely piece of furniture made of warm cherry wood. From her seat, a glance sideways gives her an equally good prospect out the window. There are a few other seats, some comfortably arranged around a low round table for small, informal meetings while there also some that can be drawn up to one of the desks.
On the south side of the door, the space is occupied by a low oblong table where refreshments can be set without someone needing to intrude. There is also an 'incoming' tray where incoming correspondence or similar items can be left.
Ka'el might've hired a stylist considering every time he's at work he's wearing something new, or at least something that he hadn't worn in his rider days. Or weyrling days. Or candidate days. Or apprentice days. It's as if he really is a businessman! Or at least an office man, considering his attire is always office appropriate. Today he's looking more summery, and the gradual shift of seasons probably has nothing to do with it. He's a guy. Guys don't pay attention to such things! Regardless, it's khaki trousers today and a pale yellow long sleeved collared shirt, top button left undone. As always, he's sans tie, though that fails to take away from the effect that he (or someone) is apparently going for: Youthful Professionalism. Instead of behind his desk he sits on top of it, legs draped over the edge and eyes immersed in a paper he's been needing to read since yesterday. He gnaws on the backside of a pen while lightly kicking the back of his booted foot against the front side of his desk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Alloy, the ever present firelizard, lounges in the Weyrleaders chair. Of course he belongs there!
Thea tends to dress a touch more casually in the summertime. Wait until the real heat kicks in! He may yet see her in a sleeveless, loose-fitting sun dress sort of outfit. Her hair is often worn down. Today, however she has up in a simple twist. She has been known to come in wearing leathers when Nova wing drills with Galaxy. Today is not that day. Today she's wearing a simple sweeping calf-length skirt of teal-colored cotton and a loose-fitting white blouse. She enters with something in her arms - a tome of some sort - from the archives down the hall, and flicks an amused look at her Weyrleader. Who knows the things that desk has seen? It's been turns since Vivian was the Weyrleader's secretary, but she remembers the rumors. Hence the smile and perhaps the question by way of greeting, "Did you chose a secretary yet Ka'el?" Asked as she crosses the room, leaving the door slightly ajar - and amazingly unlocked - to head for her desk.
The slow and rhythmic thunking of Ka'el's boot stops at Thea's arrival, hearing the door open. His eyes flit up from the scrawled words of his paper to consider her and the seemingly random question asked. He blinks once. "Secretary?" he lowers his paper down fully now, mulling over the term as if it was something said in a foreign language. "As in, someone to write out papers for me and remind me of meetings nd keep things organized?" Ah, so he is aware of the meaning of the word! And he probably read that in that manual somewhere, but the pages that spelled out his privileges and perks, necessary or otherwise, were merely skimmed over in favor of the meatier (scarier) stuff of weyr and wing management. "..Do you have one?" he asks with another owlish blink. Apparently, choosing a secretary had yet to cross his mind! He's still mulling over the 'choosing a Weyrsecond' reminder he was given over a month ago. That still hasn't happened! Alloy flicks his bronze tail, making a sort of groggy chirped noise but not bothering to relinquish his seat.
"Yes, secretary," Thea says with a smirky-smile as she rounds the corner of her desk (where her crossbow rests conveniently pointed towards the door beside a cleaning cloth - this might explain why that door has been left unlocked of late). The tome is set upon the polished surface of her desk with a gentle thunk - it's heavy! She opens the leatherbound cover and flips to a bookmarked place, opens a drawer and pulls out a fresh sheet of stationary with Weyr letterhead. Shep, as the brown oft is, draped across Thea's shoulders. He chirps a greeting to Alloy but doesn't attempt to leave his perch. "Noooo," she answers airily of a secretary. "I don't have a computer, either, but you can have one of those, too. If you want one."
"Oh." Huh. "I suppose … if I feel I need one, I can hire one." It's a tempting thought. A secretary is sort of like a sidekick, right? A personal assistant that'd help make things just a little easier? Not that things are extremely difficult now, but .. having somone else file papers would be nice. Or keeping record of future appointments and meetings. He's surely never had such a luxury before! Why pass it up now? Ka'el slides off his desk and stands, lightly brushing his hands against the thighs of his pants. "I've never used a computer before," he admits. "Don't see reason to start now, especially if you get along well enough without. But, can I have a music player? … I borrowed one from the steward for my weyr warming, and there were songs I liked…I was to ask him if there was a smaller version of what he had." His eyes flick to that heavy tome of hers, then to the door that's been left ajar with a vaguely curious look. "Do you wish for me to close that? .. Also, how is Marel?" Shep's chirped greeting is answered with a lethargic sounding chirp from Alloy who only slightly stirs in the seat as he does so. Lazy lizard!
"Yes, you know, someone to take notes for you when you're out inspecting the wings or supervising drills or meeting with the conclave." She hasn't yet told him about conclave, though it must surely be in that manual in his desk drawer! And can you see it? A secretary, like… Radar, following Colonel Henry around. A music player? Thea lifts her head from scanning the page, her absent reach for a pen aborted to eye him with faint confusion. "I'd imagine you can purchase whatever you like with your new salary, Ka'el," she says biting back a laugh. "Hm? The door? Nono, it's fine. I have another way to discourage unwanted visitors." She reaches to the crossbow and her fingers, languidly stroke the weapon. "Forgot how persuasive it can be," she says with an almost-purr. Her pen is retrieved, the tip touches the paper when the question comes of Marel. The pen doesn't move. "Marel." The stares at her paper, silent for a few ticks. Then she sighs, "She left the infirmary." Again.
"The conclave?" Sounds like a secret society, which he expects it isn't. Ka'el probably read it there in that manual, yes, but maybe he read too much in too short a time and bits and pieces of info leaked out of his ears due to an overstuffed head. It doesn't sound as if he remembers, anyway, and there's a questioning look to match. As for that music player, he notes that miffed look on her face. "I think you misunderstand. I meant…for here," he clarifies, giving a gesture to his desk with his hand. "I'm sure I can afford one,"He can afford a great many things now, "but I ask because as we share this space, I don't wish for my habits to annoy." Those habits that he can consciously choose not to do, anyway. Those other, personality-engraved ones? She's out of luck if any of those grate her nerves. He glances to the door again, half-wondering if a certain someone knows just wait fate awaits him here in the form of a crossbow. But news of Marel strip his mind of those thoughts, and he looks back at her with elevated brows. "Is she feeling well? Her wounds, have they healed?" He watches her a moment, trying to read her. Her silence. Her sigh. "She left against medical advice, didn't she?"
"A meeting of Weyrleaders, Lord Holders and major holders that takes place once each turn or when dire circumstances require joint decisions," she explains. Why there's a hint of unease in her ice-green eyes as she relates this fact goes unremarked upon. "The place of meeting rotates from turn to turn. Or takes place in Ierne." Her look regarding the player is merely perplexed. But uh… "Music in here?" Erk. "Sure, I guess so," she says slowly. "It's your office too, you know." She manages a weak smile. Please don't blast her with nerve-jarring music? She says nothing however, of anything that might restrict his choices. Perhaps she'll let him know if he grates? It's unlikely his personality will do so. Actions being less than diplomatic? She'll be on it! Though nicely, because that's Thea. "There's likely some in stores?" She doesn't know. "Or maybe those are in Ierne's shops. Ask Jethaniel." No, no Cyrus has no idea a foray into her office is likely to result in an unloaded crossbow leveled at him with the order to 'Get out' said in steely calm. That might make for an interesting interlude to boring paperwork. "Marel," Thea says with a great deal of concern in her voice, "is still in need of wound care, but had permission. She…" a sigh. "probably won't leave her cottage in the near future. I'm worried about her."
"I'll visit with her." Ka'el speaks of Marel first, his tone sounding resolved. There's obvious care there. A deep sort of feeling that he has reserved for her, and not even he knows why it has grown as it has. But regardless of reason, it has, and now Marel is in need. He can't think of a single time that she's let him down, always there even though he's never asked her to be. He'll be damned if he's not there for her in her time of need. He moves away from his desk now, crossing the space into Thea's territory. "Is there a … conclave to be had soon?" he asks with just a slight note of trepidation in his tone of voice. A meeting of Weyrleaders, Lord Holders, and… ugh. People who know what the hell they're doing, that's for sure. People who'll look at him and judge him and make assumptions and probably have bets already placed as to just how little he knows about anything. He can feel a prickling feeling on the back of his neck. Too bad he doesn't have that music player already. Some soothing music would do him good. (Or maybe something loud and obnoxious to drown out his worries??) He slows and stops a respectful distance from her desk.
"No, there's no conclave scheduled until well after turnover." She names a date absently, for her thoughts are still on Marel. The flick of green eyes towards him is grateful when he declares his intentions to visit her daughter. Yes, they were Weyrlings together, she's aware they are friends. Her pen has made a huge spot on her paper and as she drops her eyes to her desk, she notices it. The pen is set down, both hands lifted to rub at her face, press into her eyes. "She pushes me away," she murmurs very quietly, the tone shows how very troubled she is over this. She doesn't see Ka'el's approach or his pause at a distance. "If she'll see you, tell her I think Jethaniel's locks and the… device are sound ideas and will work." A rueful, almost bitter chuckle into her hands. "Won't stop her from worrying, but it might help her to worry less."
Well that's a relief. About the conclave, anyway. As for Marel… He can only sigh. What can he do about her pushing away her mother? Hell, he himself has done the same before to those who were at some point in his life close. What right does he have to tell her what to do with something so personal? And how credible is he, having done the same? For a moment, he says nothing, mulling over that and other things he's been meaning to bring up but has had little opportunity to. Perhaps a note will suffice where conversation has failed. He … gives her a questioning look at her request, brows furrowing in vague confusion. "Device?" He remembers her mentioning the locks, though word of a device has failed to reach him until now. "A device for what?"
She's not asking Ka'el to do anything about her relationship with Marel. The admission, made in a moment of weakness, is brushed away as she drops her hands from her face and stuffs her own pain back inside. Nevermind. Briskly, "Jethaniel wants to make her an anklet that she can use to trigger shocks to herself. It will be painful but harmless. And Isyriath will be delayed or discouraged from catching Seryth. He's going to write up a plan and diagram, I'm sure. And meet with both of us." She reaches for her drawer, she needs another sheet of paper.
"This was his idea, or hers?" asks Ka'el whose brows have furrowed by now. Shocks to herself? "Shards, what in the shell.." he murmurs beneath his breath, displeased into movement. He moves to pour a glass of water, though sets it down without drinking it, expression clouded. "This is what it's come to? Electrifying herself? If it's this desperate, transferring her is sounding better and better. That's madness" he says, leaning against that refreshment table that's lacking refreshments right now. Only water. He grips at the edge, his frown deepening. "What of Isyriath? What will that do to him, and in turn do to her? The shocks may be harmless.." he snorts, "shocks. Harmlesss. Says who? And for how long until she fries her mind? Jethaniel himself told us all that common things are nothin' to be toyed with before in his safety lesson. Who's to say there won't be lasting effects? Physical and mental."
The table shouldn't be void of refreshments or klah unless Thea's office visitors have helped themselves to all of it since they were delivered? That could conceivably have happened. "This was Jethaniel's solution but I'm to understand Marel welcomed it avidly," Thea says evenly, her hand still on her drawer while her eyes track his pacing to the table. "If she calms down and stops being so terrified he'll catch Seryth," the Weyrwoman says without any judgment for her daughter's state of mind, "I think things will mend between the two of them. Right now it's always on her mind. So it's on his; he cannot forget." For Ka'el's other questions, she can only shake her head. "I don't know. Perhaps talk to Jethaniel and the dragonhealers?"
Well maybe Ka'el's blind to the refreshments that are obviously there. He watches her with the furrowed brows of thought as she speaks, the rest of his thoughts going unvoiced this time. He moves away from the table now, refreshment laden or not, and moves back to his desk to grasp a pen which he slides into a pocket. "I'll talk to her," he says again, glancing to the window afterward. A sunny day. Probably warm outside. "I'm going for a walk," said with little fanfare. "I'll be back before long," he provides, in case she needs him for something while he's out. He dips his head in a fractional nod befoe he turns, striding towards that partially open door to head out.