Silence in the Library

Half Moon Bay Weyr - [TP] Library
A haven for all seeking a moment's peace, the library is tranquil, quiet, comfortable, a space to escape the chaotic bustle of weyr life. Half Moon colors prevail here, unsubtle but tasteful and eked out by dark, polished wood, flickers of white fabric, and a dazzling array of chandeliers. Rows of false stained glass windows line the room's far wall, giving the room an open, airy feel without risking climate damage to books, scrolls, and hides, of which the weyr has plenty. Rows upon rows of recessed shelves climb one upon the other along the left wall, reaching towards a high ceiling and accessible only by book ladders that have been cleverly angled to allow use of them all simultaneously.
Smaller free-standing bookcases crawl through the rest of the space, some low-slung and tucked up against bannisters and raised platforms, others standing freely back to back to best make use of the space given. Chairs and couches are woven betwixt and between, sometimes standalone, sometimes accompanied by endstands or low-slung tables, plush rugs breaking up the polished grey tile of the floor. Most furnishings are of a dark purple or teal, accented by ebony woodwork and white and gold pillows.
One corner has been dedicated to more serious studies, circular tables and wooden chairs clustered about one another, rigidity and quiet camaraderie meant to encourage focus rather than comfort. A mobile server tucked against this wall features a small pot of klah, hot water for tea, and finger-foods to keep minds stimulated, all carefully watched over by the librarian, whose desk looms nearby. The other corner features two computers, neither terribly fast or efficient in the way of such public things, but available for free use for those in need nonetheless.


With the rainy season upon it, the Weyr is chaos. It's been raining fitfully all day, just enough to keep the top layer of soil muddy and slippery, not helped by the winds that seem to spring up out of nowhere. People have been wandering into the infirmary all day scraped up, but does Citayzleat care? NOPE. No, she really does not. On a rare free pair of days, Cita is on her second day, and is in the exact same spot she's been settled in since yesterday. The library is clearly somewhere somebody goes for a free day, right? Having appropriated one of the more comfortable sets of couches, the healer's things are sprawled — neatly — in a vague crater around her. Only being the librarian's pet (and occasional shift-taker) could garner such latitude for messes, and leave it to Cita to have managed it. Burrowed beneath a soft blanket and guarded by a quartet of firelizards, the apprentice has a giant mug of Klah in one hand, and a relatively small textbook balanced on a knee with the other. She's got a nest of brightly-colored pillows, and the whole corner to herself — either by the beady glares she shoots at anybody approaching, or politeness, it's not clear. Probably the glares.

Cita isn't the only one with cred to burn with the librarian, it would seem. Perhaps it's his natural charm (not), or the fact that he reorganized the entire place as part of his extended-weyrlinghood-punishment a fortnight before (more likely), but R'hyn's entrance into the library doesn't result in quite as much lip-pressing and talk-if-you-dare glaring as it ordinarily might. His quiet greeting of "Miss Estani, you're looking as lovely as ever," is received with a prim harrumph, but that might — MIGHT— be a teeny tiny fraction of a smile. Or a grimace. It's hard to tell. Regardless, she takes the books he hands over from the depths of a satchel, ignoring R'hyn's crinkle-eyed grin and wink as he moves off into the rows of bookshelves to seek new material. He's in there a long time, pulling titles off the shelf to skim through pages, taking them sparingly after much pondering. His last stop is at a low-slung shelf full of reference materials, seizing upon the largest volume there - an absolutely enormous dictionary - before heading towards the nearest seating. It's entirely possible he hasn't seen Citayzleat; glares are totally ignored or missed altogether, the bronzerider dropping heavily onto a bit of couch outside her crater of organized chaos, dictionary peeled open down the middle and a book thumbed open to page one. His own firelizard entourage descends from the nowhere of between, the blue and brown to investigate treats in the corner, the green to settle on his person with a quiet hiss. Then, and only then, does he glance up at the preoccupied Healer, carefully and pointedly stretching long legs out just shy of her halo before offering a cheeky, "Still mad at me?"

A quiet harrumph greets the intruder from the pile of blankets and books that might be Cita; either his greeting to the librarian or maybe just his presence, one, gets a narrow-eyed look from the resident blanket monster. Still. She's busy, and dives back into devouring the book with the single-minded devotion of any student on a deadline. Pausing to take a draw on the Klah, Cita sets the book down and leans forward to scribble in a notebook, eyebrows creasing down. The firelizards are more attentive, at least — the brown and bronze flit off to join the treat-exploring pair, chattering obnoxiously. Tansy shrills primly, tail lashing from her position atop the nearest bookshelf, staring down at the trespassing rider imperiously. RUDE. In all fairness, Citayzleat is ignoring them too, chewing on the abused end of her pen absently as she resumes reading. Read, scribble, read, scribble. Eventually, she sets the book down on the sofa and turns a new page, starting a detailed sketch of what looks like a human heart, split halfwise. Primly, the healer lifts her notebook as the rider invades (okay, NEARLY invades) her space, settling it back down only once he's finished shifting around obnoxiously. Or you know, normally. Cue dramatic sigh. "Only if you keep moving my sofa." She grumbles, one side of her mouth hitching up in a fleeting grin before she tamps it right back down into Serious Face. "If Estani likes you better than me, though…" PEN JAB. The implication: the next one's for your jugular? Girl needs to get out more often.

R'hyn takes that grin and runs with it, however fleeting. "Who, me? I'm not moving, you're moving." It might be eagerness, or it might be him being an asshole, but he shifts and wiggles again, if only to scootch himself closer to her proximity. Or. You know. As close as he can get considering the studious halo. In he leans, and he at least tries at seriousness, elbow propping on one knee, chin resting on hand so he can peer at the beginnings of her sketch. Cue comedic face-squish. "As if you aren't dangerous enough, now you're learning how to cut hearts in two?," he asks, tone dry and droll at once. "Those people at the Hall have no sense." Blue-grey eyes light up for her jabbed threat, shining with the sort of glee that indicates she's proving him right with that threat of violence against his person, but he gives a firm shake of his head regardless. "No way. She wouldn't stop singing your phrases when I was in here helping with the reorganization project. If I ever hear the phrase 'If only you were more like that Citayzleat girl' again, I might go mad." It takes a moment, but eventually he sobers, as though the blanket and the nest of work has finally sunk in, brow furrowing slowly, mouth setting in that way it has when he's about to chide her. "Cita. How long have you been here?"

The look Cita throws in the bronzerider's direction is very 'you've lost your damn mind', but apparently she has actually managed sleep at some point recently, since she doesn't. Actually. Stab any part of him. "Yeah, I'm moving." She shifts with the sofa, ragdoll to prove a point, Klah lifted daintily so it doesn't spill. "Because your ass is moving the couch." POINTED GLARE. The glare says 'murder', but the comfy pillows shoved feet-ly in his direction say 'not really', or possibly 'false sense of security'. Hard to tell with pillows. Re-settling the klah and her sketch, the healer rolls her eyes, even going so far as to move her damn head in time with the gesture, emphasizing her exasperation. "Yes. That's part of our training: heart-breaking. We only use it when we really have to, though." She drawls, eyebrows lifting mock-haughtily. With great power comes great responsibility. WOE. Aster, the only firelizard who's not deserted his person, slinks out from behind a half-squashed pillow with a chatter of irritation at R'hyn, as Cita adds a scrawled tag on one of the atriums. "Well," Cita sniffs, lips twitching again. "I can't help it if I'm her favorite." HAIR TOSS. "You just haven't discovered the secret to her heart." Toss toss toss. The haughty act freezes a little for the next, but the apprentice manages to keep it up, flicking invisible dust off of her blanket. "Since yesterday. This is more comfortable than my cot." She shrugs, grins. "Enjoying drills in this rain?"

Well, if she's going to be dramatic about it, so is R'hyn. He wiggles more to prove a point, making a fantastic show about settling his butt just right in the couch cushion, offering up little mutters and huffs and pushes of the couch backing as though it were the furniture's doing. He only pauses for that POINTED GLARE, and only then to reel his chin back from his hand, fingers pressing to his chest with a scandalized, "Me?! Citayzleat, I know you aren't calling my ass fat." Tongue-flick, a sun-bright flash of a grin, and then the pillows are claimed in a completely ungraceful flop because goddamnit, R'hyn, this is why we can't have nice things. Shoulders shift, his body rolls so he can prop himself up on his side on the pillows and occupy a positively indecent amount of space with his big body, chin tilting up and back at the be-blanketed Healer. Snort. "I should hope so. Distinctly uncomfortable-seeming, heart-rending. I'm sure it's interesting, getting to see inside at someone's…" Eyes squint, picking words off her page. "… Left atrium, but it seems a bit fatal." Twinkle, a further flick of his tongue down at Aster, and more quiet hissing from Zula's perch on the edge of the couch. At least R'hyn's shifting has ceased for now, dictionary shifted into the curve of his body, book abandoned and resting on its pages so he can snort playfully at the Healer's hair tossing. "The secret to her heart is that you can cut it in half and name all of its bits, isn't it?" But it's a distracted reply - he's waiting for her tells, and seems gratified when they come, lips tugging to one side somewhat ruefully. "Don't try to change the subject. Yesterday, Cita? It's a wonder Estani doesn't charge you a residency fee. Still going after that Journeyman's knot?," is asked without mentioning at all that she'd wanted it done by turn's end - a date now come and gone. He doesn't have much tact, our R'hyn, but he has enough for that. A beat, and then: "Anything I can do to help?" Finally he comes back around to her question. "Honestly? Yes. Anything is better than the shit Valigath had me doing the last month and a half. Being soaked to the bone and flying is preferable over being soaked to the bone and grounded while tilling the gardens again because the first time didn't pass muster."

Cita, half-engrossed back in the detailed diagram in the little book, nearly spills klah on herself. That's what she gets for letting her attention wander? "I'm gonna stick my foot up your skinny —" Estani drifts into range, and the healer clams up, expression switching instantly to a bright smile for the librarian. "Do you need help, ma'am?" She asks, politely, and only tosses a pillow at R'hyn's head when the old woman goes back to her task with a shake of her head, back turned on them. Muttering under her breath about idiots and men, Cita twists to set the life-giving drink on the end table, then twists back around to shove her feet down the couch and behind the rider. He can make himself useful, if he's gonna be a pain in the ass. The book is further away, flat on her legs, but she can still see it. "We generally use people who are already dead to do that." Cita drawls, eyebrows raised, amused in spite of herself. "You want to tag along tomorrow? I'm going to the 'hall to practice. There's fresh, not just pickled, Telj says." A beat, and she huffs, longsuffering. "That's the secret to everybody's heart, Heryn." DUH. Jeez, man. Keep up, here. Aster sidles behind another pillow, muttering, as his human tucks the blanket comfortably around her shoulders and completely ignores the worry. "Yes. I am." She swallows, staring at her knees for a long moment, then visibly shakes the mood off, snorting indelicately. "I've gotten behind on my actual studies. Can't make more time, so I'll use what I've got." Blanketed shoulders hitch in a shrug. "You can not tell Telj where I am 'til tomorrow morning." At which point she'll return to work, presumably? Well, it's helpful, anyways. Valigath's punishments merit an overly-dramatic shudder, face squashing up. "That dragon is terrible. Tilling the gardens? We have gardeners for that. Plenty of them. Or 'brats. Could have made you study historical wing formations, or sack 'stone. Shells." A few beats, probably contemplating appropriate punishments for JACKASSERY, before Cita huffs, smiling a reluctant smile. "I bet Xermi's loving it. How's he getting along with your wingmates?"

R'hyn, too, turns up the cheek for Estani's appearance, letting Cita offer suck-uppery while he merely beams, expression somewhat on the feral side of innocent, mocking faces he'd been making at the Healer only seconds before washed away — until her back is turned. Then he blows a colorful raspberry at the woman, 'oof'ing quietly when her pillow collides with his face. "Pfeh!," is his initial intelligent response, but in the end it's merely commandeered, stuffed under his arm to further prop him aloft, humming cheerfully under his breath for her muttering and feet-shoving. He bears that in silence (knowing that he is ultimately in the wrong, and therefore deserving of being made a foot-warmer), leaning forward a bit until she can get comfortable before pressing his back in over her legs. "Do you? Are you sure you don't just pluck 'em still beating out of people's chests?," R'hyn asks, sotto voce, blue-grey eyes lit with mirth as they rove over her person. "I dunno. You never seemed the type to wait to me." Cringing just in case there are more pillows, the bronzerider issues a quiet laugh, brow lifting incredulously, mouth opening— and then the wind goes out of his sails, mood dimming as he shakes his head. "Nah. Seen enough dead people lately. But thanks for the offer anyways." His own gaze goes askance, and the moment of silence becomes a shared one, R'hyn quick to seize on the subject change when it comes. "You could make more time - or, rather, we could make more time for you, but I can only imagine what Valigath would do if we got caught. Maybe she'd skip punishment and go straight to setting us on fire this time." He nods amiably, fingers miming a locking motion over his lips, key tossed over the back of the couch with a flourish, her location safe with him. "Oh, we did that too. We did all of it. Good news is, I'm best friends with all the drudges now." And then there's Xermiltoth, and R'hyn's eyes roll ceilingwards. "Loving is a mild term. He's back to yelling into everyone's brains again in excitement, so. Well. And then poorly. And then well again." Such is his life.

Cita has quiet dignity even for all the potential for pelting R'hyn with more of her pillows — which she seems to have gathered from all 'round, given the sheer number of them. "Only when they really piss us off." The healer tries bravado and mostly gets it; she only sounds a LITTLE batshit crazy. "You're right. I really hate waiting." Her face splits in a toothy grin that ramps up the crazy a little, but then she reaches to grab her Klah, and it fades a little. She just needs more Klah, okay. The momentary quiet drops the smile, sympathy settling in briefly, but returns in a crooked slant after a moment. It takes several beats of silence for the healer to find the words, and in the end, dark humor wins out. "Me too. Maybe you'll get used to it. I did, after a while. You just have to ignore it when they talk back." She hunches a shoulder, something like a shrug, but settles more comfortably into her pile. The potential for Timing It gets a slightly more sparkly look — strictly academic obviously. They'd never do anything crazy like that. "Shells," Quiet awe at the thought of the senior gold's sheer rage at such a transgression. "That'd probably be too quick. It's probably best not to dwell on it too much." Really. "Would be nice, though. I could use an extra year." The apprentice sighs wistfully, then snorts, shaking her head ruefully. "It's a waste. You've both got too much potential for that." …a compliment? Faranth's toenails. "At least you're at it now. Aw, they'll get used to it. He's just got a personality. I bet he'll fit in just fine once they get used to him!" Cita nods stoutly, canting her chin up. BECAUSE SHE SAYS SO, IS WHY. "I bet having an in with the drudges can come in handy."

R'hyn can't help the sharp, staccato laughter that escapes him for Cita's batshit bravado - he cuts the noise off as quickly as he can, dissolving into shoulder-shaking huffs of amusement through his nose, but the damage has been done, and he can only wait for the Estani hammer to fall or not as it will. For now, he twinkles up at the Healer, lips twisted off in a sideways grin. "I suppose I should thank all my lucky stars that you chose to spare me, then," he drawls, all brightness and smiles until he isn't anymore. He takes up the mantle of dark humor himself, snorting quietly and shooting her a side-eyed Look. "Maybe I will come with you then. Something something exposure, something something clinical knowledge being comforting, et cetera." There's another snort for them talking back, but then they're on to timing it, and his potential demise at the hands of Valigath, and he has to issue an agreeing, "You're right. Maybe she'll make us between into a glass case and remain there for all time as an example." It's still said in good humor, though - for all the queen's supposed terror, he still retains his cheek. And then he's being complimented, and frankly the man is a little gobsmacked. Maybe a little too gobsmacked. Aw, hell, maybe he's being an ass again, because he smiles great big and leaaans so he can rest his head on the nearest part of Citayzleat's person, the better to tilt his head sideways and bat his eyes at her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you just said something nice about me." Totally calling her on it, too. Dick. At least it fades fast, smugness exchanged for nodding. "They will. He's dedicated enough that they forgive him already. It's only a matter of time. As for the drudges, you've no idea. Did you know there's an old tunnel that goes right out the back of the mountain?" He didn't as evidenced by the explosive hand gesture he makes at his temple. Mind blown. The gesture is short-lived though, hands jerking back down to push him up when Estani's form can be espied moving back towards them through the shelves. "Whoops, time to go," R'hyn sing-songs because he ain't gonna lose his star student status first, ain't no way. So he grabs his books, heaves himself up and over the back of the couch, makes like a tree and leafs Cita there to deal with the backlash like an asshole. Are you surprised? Thought not. Byeeee, Citaaaa!


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