To Disappoint

Xanadu Weyr - Craft Complex
This large area has been painted a soft cream with dark orange trim used as an accent. It's separated into a variety of smaller sitting areas, couches and chairs organized into rings and squares, tables set where they can be used easily. Recessed electric lights in the ceiling provide a warm glow, and a row of angled skylights on the eastern wall above the entrance give some natural light when bleary crafters first emerge. There's often a cart with klah parked off to one side to help with waking up or finishing that important project - or simply to be enjoyed with comfortable seating and good company.
Along the southern edge, an open archway leads to a library of books and records. There's something for every craft, it seems, from tomes of caprine diseases, to Pernese history and law, to gemstone identification, to sheet music, to sea charts and herbal manuals. There's even a few works of fiction, though none of it seems very well organized. Whatever is sought, it's probably here… somewhere. A few desks for studying are tucked in amongst the shelves, each with a lamp to illuminate the reading material. Near that archway, a long table holds a row of computers. They're connected to databases all over Pern, and are available for general use except when the computercraft requires them.
To the north, a pair of double doors open onto a grand hall, the vaulted ceiling designed with acoustics in mind. This space is used for lectures and concerts, rows of benches set up to face the front. Along one wall, instruments hang free or on shelves for anyone with the appropriate skills to use. There are often harpers here, practicing their craft.
A pair of hallways lead back from the western wall, one going to the apprentice dorms and the the private quarters for the ranking crafters posted at the weyr. The other provides access to the various workshops.

Rinian is settled at one of the tables, papers strewn across it's surface, though none of them show enough to really figure out what she might be working on. She absently brushes some of her hair out of her way, though its not likely to remain that way long, and makes another notation on the sheet in front of her.

It's still raining outside, though the ominous distant thunder has subsided for the evening. Instead, the rains just soak the land and fill the sea, and clouds lay thick and dark overhead, hiding just how deep into the evening Rukbat has started to fall. It is not too late, based on the clocks that adorn the walls, not even yet meal time. A man dressed in too many layers for a Xanadu summer comes from the archway with a backdrop of books and records. The cloak's hood is down around his shoulders, the way the layers sit askew on his broad shoulders reveal some of the deep black tunic and its silver adornments beneath. His hair is still wait, sitting damp against his forehead, those strands long enough to sit over his starkly contrasting light blue eyes. Those crafters collected are scanned over as his arrogant, slow-intentioned strides take him through the complex, and all-so-fortunately for Rinian, he pauses before he passes by her. On roguish face does a mischievous and smug grin arise as his gaze studies over her, starting at her feet, up to her eyes. He has a knapsack over one shoulder, the straps held by his black-wrapped hand. "Rinian, wasn't it?" His honey'd-venom voice is low, heavily accented- even more noticeable when he speaks more quietly. "A… woodcrafter?"

Rinian is intent enough on her own work that she completely misses the inspection, or even that someone had drawn near. So when someone speaks close to her she looks up, a little startled. "Yes?" Her green eyes go wide as she remembers the pirate from the other night. Not that she'd call him that out loud, but she just can't help where her imagination takes her. And seriously…he's scary. "Ah..hello again." She rises from her seat so as not to be completely towered over, though its small improvement. "How may I help you?"

TO RESET BECAUSE I CAN. It is raining outside still. The worst of the day's storms have subsided to relent to just-rain and cloudcover that darkens this hour a bit before evening mealtime. Kaellian has paused beside Rinian who had been studying, working on whateveritis. More looming than simple pausing, of course, but regardless. The cocksure smile spreads a bit more until it touches the corners of his eyes, making little lines there. Making those kohl-touched edges narrow faintly. A chilly glint to the seablue there that has ever-deeper depths not all unlike the ocean themselves. "Do you happen to have a specialty, lass? Anything you particularly like working on?" There is obviously intent for asking this- though he never does anything without a reason. There's no reason to waste precious time. Might he actually have a project? Though, why to her than through more.. appropriate channels to order something? He adjusts the weight over his shoulder, shifting the rest of the folds of cloak laying 'cross him. "We didn't have much time to get to know one another last time. It was.. unfortunate."

Rinian has stood to face him, as sitting down was entirely too much looming. Though there is still is enough difference between them. She answers him honestly, and simply. "My specialty is carving, however I am trained in making a wide variety of items. It is important that we are able to fulfill the needs of wherever we may be posted." She keeps her expression polite, no matter the heeby-jeebies she may get from this particular man. But she by passes the polite 'get to know you' chatter. "Is there something you need crafted?"

D'lei has been here for a while, actually… it's just that he's been tucked into a high-backed chair in a corner, because he maybe fell asleep for a bit. Better in here than out in that rain, at least! But, now there's voices in the area, and so D'lei stirs, with a mmh and a lift of his head before he rubs a bit of the sleep from them. Good… evening, apparently. How time flies!

Nessalyn is engaging of that time-honored practice of walking and reading a book with a notebook atop it balanced on one arm. She's even attempting advanced levels by scribbling notes at the same time, a practice that makes the rhythm of her steps falter occasionally when her brain can't handle three things at once. She's paying zero attention to where she's going as she makes her way from her quarters to the more public study area, bumping into at least three people along the way without apology. People want an aggressive elbow in their sides, right? OF COURSE.

After her reply, Kaellian takes a step forward, decreasing the distance between them. Invading that bubble. Ultimately, it seems to be approval in that action of her answer- good job, she said what he wanted, hoped she'd say, and in the faint flicker at the edge of his lips. His head is tilted down in a way that's still inspecting her from beneath the shadows cast by his own features. "I happened to have a bit of a mishap, you see. The other night I happened to break something rather important to me," And the non-wrapped hand delves into an inobvious pocket of that cloak at his chest to bring out the focus of that project. Whatever it is, it's a bit bigger than palm-sized, in a wooden casing that's cracked across the top. But further examination of it ends when an aggressive elbow knocks it from his hand, and it goes skittering across the floor of the complex. Kaellian lets his arm fall as he turns to face that one. "Nessalyn. A pleasure. As always." Cue appropriate sarcasm, and a tip of his head and shoulders in a dramatic sort of mocking bow.

Rinian takes a step back, or at least tries to, when he moves closer, but her attempt to keep proper spacing backs her against her chair and stops her short. That she's uncomfortable with his proximity and inspection is obvious, but she strives to remain polite. Her gaze drops to the item in question as its produced, but she doesn't really get a good look before it skitters away. The look she gives Ness is something of a relief as she pulls his attention away from Rin. She slips around her chair and goes to retrieve the object.

There's a few moments in there where D'lei might consider drifting back asleep. Voices are only moderately disturbing… but then there's the clatter of wood, and that's enough to make him reach for the cane tucked in the side of the chair and lever himself - carefully - to his feet so he can turn and see just what's going on here. It's time for an inspection of his own, of both the situation… and who it is that's a part of it. His own expression projects affable curiosity with a slight smile and mild arch of brows, though there's a hint of discomfort that's echoed in the way he stands - and that cane. "Good thing it was already broken, hmm?" He's looking at Rinian as he speaks, with a bit more of a smile for them, and he steps forward as if to meet her at that object and satisfy his curiosity.

Nessalyn is already a few steps past Kaellian when her name registers in the back of her mind, and she tears her gaze away from her work to focus upon her surroundings. It takes another few seconds of staring impassively between Rinian and Boat Boy for her to put two and two together. "I'm impressed my aim is that good even when I'm not paying attention," she comments, her gaze following Rinian as the girl seems to chase after something. Her study materials are hugged to her chest, work temporarily paused as her curiosity needs to be sated. There's that strange skittering object, and also, "Why do you have a cane?"

At discomfort there is no alleviation of pressure, as if he is comfortable there. Or perhaps just comfortable making others uncomfortable. Same thing. Kaellian's glance shifts from Nessalyn to Rinian as she goes to fetch his compass. It's the sort that looks ancient. Carved in the sort of intricacy that isn't easily found on one side, and a slightly more simplified back casing. The former is depicted in a variety of intertwined seamonsters deep-set in a stressed dark wood, the latter simply the image of compass rose and fine border- cracked in two parts across the face. The compass itself is secured within, and may or may not be broken now too. THANKS NESS. He doesn't move to intervene when Rinian gets it, not yet. "Impressed that you're perhaps that lucky, aye. I believe it a bit of a stretch to consider it a talent." As D'lei approaches, kohl-rimmed eyes look him over, while the man of the sea straightens back to his height from that bow-of-sorts. It's not the cane that Kaellian's attention lingers on, but rather the other's expression in the wake of Ness's question. Waiting, patient, curious, that grin of his upon scruff-lined face faded a touch, but not gone. Not by a long shot.

Rinian gently picks up the case, but is distracted before she gets a good look at it by the approach of D'lei. Now that particular person gets a smile, and a concerned inquery. "Are you feeling better?" Her gaze slides down to the cane and she surpresses a wince at the hasty work and shoos thoughts away about how she'd like to improve it. The problem with distracting herself, is she chooses the object in her hands. Now…she is quite distracted. She turns the case over carefully, observing first the cracked side, and then to the more intricate side. She studies it closerly, running a light finger over the carvings.

"Because Rinian carved it for me," D'lei answers Nessalyn, and smiles brightly to her before turning his gaze back to the woodcrafter in question. "Thank you again, by the way." He doesn't seem to be paying much attention to Kaellian, though he's certainly moving such that the other man remains in his field of vision. "Improving, but not yet improved," he says with a wry smile. "You know how it goes, I'm sure… or else you're lucky." The smile broadens a bit as he looks back to Nessalyn… and Kaellian. "Putting things together can be rather more impressive than breaking them, after all. Wouldn't you say?"

YOU'RE WELCOME. Nessalyn is always happy to break things for people, be it purposefully or inadvertently. She shrugs one shoulder in answer to Kaellian, the smug edge of her smile suggesting that she knows something he doesn't. Blue eyes shift first to the cane with D'lei's answer, and then on to the carver in question. "Do you know what he did to himself?" she asks of the girl, already conclusing that she won't be getting a proper answer out of the Weyrleader. That, or she's just biding her time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike with the right question. "Some people say every act of destruction is actually an act of creation, so I'd argue I've never broken anything in my life."

For the most part, Kaellian doesn't bother to move. His free hand that had held his compass rests at his side, thumb hooked into his belt. His poise is as arrogant as the rest of him, in claim of that space that was once Rinian's, that little nook that had once served as a good working space now shadowed by this particular man. That attention hasn't left D'lei until his question, where a huff of a breath is vaguely amused, "Would depend, wouldn't it?" He adds after Nessalyn's contribution, letting his head tilt, his black-wrapped hand scratch 'neath earring'd ear with a tone that drawls lazily, "Some things make an absolutely spectacular display in their last moments." Attention shifts back to Rinian, stormy chill-touched seablues dropping to his compass that she traces over, then to her face- questions wait there, but to be held until an answer to Nessalyn comes first.

Aww yeah. The ladies are talking about D'lei! Admittedly, this is not what is usually meant by that, but it is nevertheless accurate. Technically speaking. "Honestly, you could have stopped after the, 'argue'," he notes to Nessalyn, and grins to her before he looks to Kaellian. "Mmh. Any particulars in mind?" he asks, a smile to go with the curious lift of his eyebrows. "All I've got are fireworks."

Somewhere in the back of her mind Rinian recognizes she's being spoken to, and drags her to focus her attention back to the people. Who said what takes a moment longer however. D'lei gets another smile and an honest, "Actually…I don't. Sorry." She glances over to Ness and shrugs as she carefully holds the case, "No, I don't know." Neither does she ask. She looks to Kaellian, then to D'lei with a slight nod of her head in Kaellian's direction, but that's it. "The case, a shame it is broken." She lets them debate destruction and creation, as the latter is all that interests her. "It can be repaired, but you will always be able to see where the crack occurred."

"Aye, mate. Many." Kaellian's dry sarcasm carries in the comfort of his false warmth, the hand at his belt rising a little to gesture palm-up at nothing in particular. The list is endless. "Although your techcrafter here probably has outdone me in displays of fire many times over." What more glory is there than enemy sails turning into a pyre of the night sky? Oh but that's a story for later, isn't it? One that has him smiling against the devilish lines of his face, disappointed only in the lack of information to be gathered about D'lei. However, at least his desire is being fulfilled. There's a clatter now, if the compass is tilted and turned, as if some metal piece of it is loosened on the inside. BUT THATS NOT WOODCRAFT so it's not the focus at the moment. "And you believe you can do it? Preferably without damaging the front of it." If it isn't already buffered by it's flight across the complex's floor. "How long might it take you?"

Rinian mms thoughtfully, "The front seems to be fine, though I don't know about its contents." She studies the case again. "Doing the repair itself wouldn't take an overly long time, but the glue would need to be properly cured." She looks back up to Kaellian, though draws no nearer him than she must. "Do you have a specific time you need it returned?"

D'lei's eyebrows arch slightly further to Kaellian, inquisitive for an answer that's merely assured instead of actually given. He follows it with a laugh, and a glance to Nessalyn. "Perhaps," he says, and returns his gaze to Kaellian. There's a slight flattening of the middle of his mouth as the corners curve up, a broadening of lips - if not smile - and a return of his eyebrows to their usual position. "I do try not to make assumptions about people, though. So really, I couldn't say one way or another." He extends his free hand out to the side in a gesture of equivocation that's notable for the fact that there isn't actually a shrug to go with it, despite the fact that a shrug would be the natural motion.

Nessalyn's first impulse is to blurt out that she's no one's techcrafter, thank you very much, she's her own woman. But she just manages to stop herself, lips pursed tight to keep the words from slipping out. It's there in her body language though, the way she tenses up just slightly and leans forward, ready for a fight. She has to swallow it all back down, allowing the conversation to drift back to compasses and repairs before she speaks again. "So, D'lei," she says conversationally, as though she's not about to try to invade his privacy. "What is the nature of your injury and exactly how did you acquire it?"

"The contents will be.. dealt with. The case is more important, love. If you might save the original, I would… very much appreciate it. You seem the sort to be… mmm.." His drawl becomes more pronounced, his accent making it difficult to separate some of those words curled in serpent's tongue, "Particular for details, aye? One to not get glue all over the bloody place and ruin the clasps and whatnot. One of my clumsy men could do that for me if so." And guess what, Rinian, it means you get to see him again soon when the job is all done~ "I set sail in a few days. Would that be adequate time, or need you longer?" He never stays long, this man more attune to, more loving of the waves than the beaches they crash upon. The tension wound into Ness is found as his glance passes by her in return to D'lei, a quiet chuckle breathed as no more than a huff of breath. That gaze is paused on her as if promoting it, not doubting it could come. But his words are to D'lei again, in reference to his comment on not making assumptions, "Is that for sake of caution, or for hope of better.. outcomes?"

Rinian frowns slightly as she tries to follow that drawl of his, and as she considers her work load. Still…if she shifts things around a bit, uses her free time, and risks the ire of a certain Journeyman… "I should be able to have it ready, though I would suggest you strive to not let it get wet." Apparently that she'll have to deal with him again hasn't truely processed, though its obvious. She looks at Ness in surprise as she out right asks, and then to D'lei to see how he might react.

"Need it be only one?" D'lei replies to Kaellian, his brows lifting slighting once more to go with his smile. "If you have the half-full glass and the half-empty glass…" Again that gesture that isn't a shrug but tries to imply one, and then he leaves it at that - for now, at least - as turns his gaze to Nessalyn as she addresses him. He doesn't seem put off in the slightest by her blunt inquiry, his smile entirely intact. "Unpleasant, which I believe should also go without saying," he replies to her. "As for the process… mmh. It was an act of creation, in a way."

"Why are you wandering around with half-full or empty glasses instead of finishing your damn drink? That's such a pointless saying." Nessalyn interjects with her opinion whether it's wanted or not, casting an unimpressed look between teh two men. The downward twist of her lips only deepens when D'lei dodges around her questions. She didn't truly expect any differently, but it still grates upon her. "Transparency in leadership is very important," she states solemnly, fixing him with a heavy stare for a moment before looking away. It seems entirely serious, save for the fact that this is Nessalyn, and it's unlikely that she cares in the slightest how Xanadu's leaders choose to conduct themselves. She just has too much amateur sleuth in her to walk away so easily. "What do you think caused it?" she asks of Rinian and Kaellian instead.

“Excellent." Kaellian's low tone is nearly a hum in that singular word. "That I can do, 'less she bring me her ire again." The sea, that is, but he doesn't bother to explain. It wouldn't be that wild of an accusation to say he means anything else, either. "Then I leave it to your care." He winks at her, that sly wolven way of predator's condescension mixed with that dark gentleman's grace. He teeters a fine line between the two, edges hazy and indistinct. "Not if you keep filling the glass as you should, Nessalyn. It would only be a shame to have the rum always gone." It had to be done. Then, D'lei. It's as if that response didn't really sit all that well, or didn't answer the deeper question. That grin fluctuates, dampens in the pleasure that existed there for the shear sake of the interaction that, on some backburner, had been pending and still is. "It should be." He answers, a callously nonchalant tilt of his head to one side as he considers, but lets it go for now. More entertained by what he perceives is granted to the conversation, "Is she really so wild there too?" It hardly matters if that’s an appropriate question or not, the man lacks those boundaries.

Rinian looks from one to the other of them, sure she's missed some conversation somewhere. "Half empty glasses? Do you all want something to drink?" She seems to completely miss the nuances of their conversation. It doesn't pertain to there and now, of the item in her hands or of work needed to be done. She looks extremly puzzled, to say the least, at least till she's winked at by the scary man. That flusters her and to cover it she returns to her inspection of the cracked face of the case. Something nice, obvious, and solid in her hands.

D'lei's smile increases as he listens to Nessa and Kaellian's replies about those glasses… then turns to a heh (and fleeting glimpse of ow) at Rinian's. "That is the problem with all these pretty words and sayings, isn't it?" he says to the woodcrafter. "People can talk circles at each other, and never know what anyone really means because it's all veiled in clever words and subtle allusions." His gaze shifts to Nessalyn as he adds, "Or bristling with arguments that take whatever side seems most contrary." He arm-shift-non-shrugs, then tilts his head to Kaellian's… suggestion. There's a moment when he simply regards the other man, then he opens his mouth to, in the most matter of fact of tones, say, "Yes."

"We're talking about the futility of optimism, Riri." Is that what they're talking about? Apparently it's what Nessalyn is talking about, as she states this with absolute certainty. "I am not contrary," she blurts out before she can even stop herself, because she just can't resist. She grits her teeth, sending a scowl D'lei's way for setting up that trap, whether it was intended or not. "She was telling me something about how there shouldn't always be blood in the bedroom? I don't think that's it, but," she makes a show of looking over D'lei, including checking over the view from behind because RISALI TOLD ME TO, GUYS, but she can't tell where the source of his injury is without further indication. "I don't think that's what happened."

"One would be a fool to turn down a drink, but it is all about the game." That's Kaellian's take on it, or at least what he'll give. What the man shrouded in black, adorned in silver and covered in a cape not suited for this weather expected was not a direct answer from the Weyrleader. There is a glint in those cold eyes, that winter's ocean, that dark depth ever-present right beneath the surface. Approval. Contemplation. Humor. For all the chill, there is indeed that amusement that he lives for. The entertainment brought by stories yet to be told at all or in full. That smile of his broadens, a chuckle risen deep in his chest. It never makes it to being a pleasant sound, no, for the way it stays quiet and low, breathy and restrained is ominous at best. Nessalyn's sleuthing is granted a risen brow, a slight shift in weight that has him resting that thumb on belt again. "Finding anything you like over there, Nessalyn." She is, at least, getting all the views.

Rinian lets her breath out in a sigh. These people. The crafters she's grown up with don't talk in such riddles and round about ways. She does disagree though on the bit that gets explained, "Optimism is hardly futile. That one," She gestures to Kaellian, "wouldn't have brought this to be fixed if he didn't have an optimistic outlook on it being repaired." She adds, "And you wouldn't bother with your tech if you didn't have a positive look on its outcome." She ignores talk about blood in bedrooms because that is information she doesn't need to have. Now, it takes a moment longer for her to latch on to…"Riri? What is Riri?" As only one of them spoke to the practical about a drink, she gently sets the case by her work on the table, and goes to the table to poor the pirate a cup of klah. No alcohol here. Or at least, none she's aware of.

D'lei smiles as he listens to the theories espoused about what it is that's actually going on here, then grins at Nessalyn's… obliging contrariness. "Quite," he agrees to some level of these nested messes of words, then gives an amiable nod about the (occasional, at least) lack of blood in the bedroom before standing there while she inspects him… and finds him lacking, at least when it comes to evidence supporting that particular theory. "Mmh," he says, and then takes a few steps to snag one of the recently-used chairs and take it for himself, cane placed across his knees. "I aim to disappoint."

"That one," Nessalyn jerks her thumb in Kaellian's direction, "is not optimistic, and it's foolish to think he is." Among other things. "Understanding the function of individual pieces and how they work as a whole, and designing a system around an existing understanding isn't optimism, it's knowledge. Hopefully you work with something more than optimism that you'll succeed." She shifts that book that's splayed open over her chest, pulling out the notebook and shutting both before tucking them under her arm. SO MUCH FOR GETTING WORK DONE. "Riri is your name." Or an approximation of it, which is better than some people get. When it comes to her opinion of what D'lei's body has to offer, Ness greets Kaellian's question with a shrug. "It's not terrible. I'm surprised Risali doesn't spend more time staring at this side." It's sort of a compliment. "Congratulations, Weyrleader, you're a massive success."

Don't worry, Rinian. Or Riri. That's good too. Kaellian will fix the problem of there being no alcohol in something once it gets to him. It's not subtle the way he watches the woodcrafter place his compass on the table. That flint-struck spark just beneath the surface in evidence of that possessiveness. It takes effort to not reach for it again to- To.. what? Keep it from sliding into another's pocket? It's a shame his crew… lost their last mate skilled in some inkling of woodcraft. Such a shame. Kaellian's good hand rises to his chest, splaying those ring'd fingers across it as if she'd wounded him, though that cocksure look on his face doesn't sell it. Not at all. "I haven't a clue what you mean. It's poor form to color the lass's thoughts before she can make her own choices, wouldn't you say. She and I have further business to do together." And that's stated exactly as he intends it. As if Ness hadn't already tried to warn the woodcrafter about him. And yet here he is, talking about her like she isn't right there. Oddly, he doesn't comment on the Weyrleader being a disappointment in bed, the man perhaps holding his tongue for once, though the way he licks the inside of his teeth says that he more than likely has something else to say about it.

Rinian decides to not argue about her name, at least for the moment. She considers setting the mug on the table near Kaellian, but decides that might be considered rude. So…she gets closer than she'd rather and offers it to him. To Ness she notes, "We'll just have to agree to disagree." She still thinks a positive outlook is needed to get things properly done. She completely misses the nested messes of words, or at least doesn't touch on them. She seems a rather simple person compared to these three.

“Thank you," D'lei says to Nessalyn as if entirely in earnest. He shifts a little, turning that cane as it rests across his lap, and while his eyes pass across Kaellian - and that expression - he says nothing about it. He does study the seaman for a few moments, watching his expression, then looks back to Rinian to… try to apply his own color to her thoughts? "I think you should trust your instincts," he says to her. So, maybe not. His expression is an earnest one, even if the tone is light. "They may not explain everything… but there are likely good reasons for why you feel what you do, even if you can't place what they are."

Nessalyn glances between Rinian and Kaellian, brows raised. "I think she already made her own choices. Right, Riri?" From an outsider's perspective, it certainly doesn't look as though Rinian is overly-eager to spend extra time in the ringed man's company. "Maybe you should try asking her if she wants to get on your boat." The faint smirk upon her lips remains as she turns to D'lei, meeting his thank you with a brief nod like it's all entirely serious. "Do we all get awards for participation, too?" Sarcasm sneaks in, distaste twisting her lips downward at the bronzerider's assessment of feelings and instincts.

When Kaellian accepts the mug from Rinian, it's with a bow towards her that brings his face much closer to hers. Oh, there's some space left, don't get too excited. But it's as if he must come that close just to say, in lower volume, "Thank you." And the self-proclaimed gentleman lingers there for a beat before straightening again, relieving much of the pressure he places. Satchel over shoulder is shifted to free his wrapped left hand that retrieves a flask from the folds of his attire at his chest. Deft fingers far too practiced at the task undo the top of it, and its amber-liquid contents is added to the warm beverage. This is all while D'lei is imparting wisdom, of course, the man of the sea taking his time in his task, in no evident hurry for any action, for- as he sees it- the world will wait for him. "Perhaps you should experience a night a'board for yourself so you can let her know just how good it is." No better recount that a personal one, afterall. "Some have bloody terrible sense about them. I suppose it's fine to tell them otherwise.. if they swim well."

Rinian is startled to have his face come closer to hers and is quick to back away as he takes the mug from her. "Boat? No..not I." Not that she doesn't like boats, quite the opposite but.. She nods her understanding to D'lei, and her agreement. She gathers her papers neatly, and then takes care with the broken case. "If I am going to get this done so it can cure in time, I had best get to it." She sort of forgets the polite good byes in her hurry to get off and to work. Back home it would get her a scolding. Perhaps it will here too, but later.

D'lei arches his brows at Nessalyn's disdain, then smiles. "If you want one." He changes which hand has the grip on the cane in order to reach into his pocket and draw out a small handful of change. He extracts some of the sixty-fourth marks that would otherwise have been collected by his children and saved up for candies. One, two, and- nope, never mind, Rinian is headed off in a hurry, so he just takes those two and sets them down on the table. "There you go." He turns his gaze to Kaellian, as he puts that change back into his pocket, and smiles. "Perhaps… but I don't board just any ship that sets down a plank."

The techcrafter looks faintly annoyed when Kaellian continues to get into Rinian's face, eyeing the pair with a tense set to her shoulders, and only relaxing slightly when the girl makes the practical choice. "I guess no one wants to get on your boat," she comments, repressed laughter undercutting her tone when D'lei replies to the invitation as well. Does Nessalyn need those sixty-fourth marks? Not particularly, but as soon as they hit the table her hand comes down to cover them both. She doesn't want them, but she'll be damned if she lets Kaellian have either of them. "This isn't quite what I was intending, but I'll take it." And save up for candies as well!

"And forego an adventure. To each their own." Whatever it might promise- that is left in dark and mystery, of bad choices and worse consequences. So, clearly the decision certain people might make. "He did claim that he aims to disappoint." Kaellian remarks, that rapscallion's grin unperturbed. Rinian's departure is watched, a readjustment of his posture something that is almost agitated but becomes no more than that. Then she's gone, and she would otherwise be out of thought if she didn't have something of his. Yet his attention returns regardless, watching the placement of the marks and Nessalyn's quick recovery of them. Brows are raised, humor further emerging from the seas of his eyes. Fingers curl back around that satchel heavied by something against his back, and he lifts that mug with the other as if to cheers them both. That works as a farewell, does it not? "Perhaps you can use that towards what you owe me." Because he has a bone to pick with her, still. Doesn't matter if he's currently wearing two relatively new looking boots. That's not the point~ Then he's sipping that spiked drink, his swagger taking him back down the complex and towards the rain-drenched outsides.

There's a pair of quirks of D'lei's lips for each of them, and then a nod. "So I did. Bear that in mind, as you consider who to invite and what to forego." He shifts that cane again, taking it off his knees and setting it down in front of him, then gives a nod to Kaellian to acknowledge and answer that mug-lift… though he's got nothing to say about the disposition of those marks, merely watching the sailor's back as he departs to the wild wets once more before turning his head to take a glance - with arched brow - back to Nessalyn.

"I make my own adventures." It's like choose your own adventure! Except it's real life. Nessalyn doesn't dive further into the topic of Kaellian's ship and her interest in joining him on it, as it's a topic she feels has already been thoroughly discussed. Instead, she pockets those sixty-fourth marks, pride curling her lips inan almost-smile. There's a flicker of suspicion for the man as he makes his departure, but there's no point in calling the man on what she thinks she might see. "I'm afraid it belongs to someone else now," she calls after his retreating back, her laughter echoing in the space as she watches him walk away. Good luck cashing in on that debt, Kaellian. "I stole his boot," she explains to D'lei as soon as the seaman is out of sight. "It's promised to Leirith."

"Makes sense," D'lei says to Nessalyn's explanation… though whether that means anything more than that it's something he can picture her doing, well, that's another question entirely. "If you get her a complete set, I'll make sure there's a prize for it." D'lei grins, then leans on both cane and table as he stands up, since they're convenient and such. "I'm off to the office. Don't wait up." Not that she would, or that he waits for an answer before heading down the hall. It's not like he's moving fast, she can just shout it at his back or something.

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