Laundry Delivered!

Western Weyr - Weyrleader's Office
This appears to be one of the spare private rooms, hastily reworked into an office space. Instead of the usual bed, clothespress, table and chairs, there's a filing cabinet, a floor lamp, and…a table and chairs. The table holds a smaller desk lamp, a personal computer with connection cables spilling down the back, a dispatch radio, plus a scattering of files, papers, and writing materials. Beside the workspace is a smaller endtable, seated upon which is a klah percolator and half a dozen mugs. None of the three chairs match each other, or the tables, but they seem to be solidly made and in good repair.
Piled up against one wall are half a dozen cartons, apparently also filled with files of some sort. The room is rather sparsely decorated, with only a scrap of faded carpet beneath the table and an embroidered wall hanging hung on the wall opposite the door, in bold copper and russet threads.

It's late in the day at Western. Past when most people eat dinner. Zi'on isn't to be found at his weyr, which is only a short hop from his office. In fact, no one is there. Not Zi'on, or his weyrmate Kiena. Both are still working, in fact. Zi'on is busy in his office catching up on the paperwork that he's missed out on during his meetings during the day. He's sitting at a large desk of dark wood pouring over such papers. His desk is neatly cluttered, there are stacks of papers everywhere but they're arranged in neat piles. He has his own system. Once things are complete he sends them off to the weyrwoman's office for filing anyways.

It was hard tracking down the weyrleader, very hard indeed. But sheer determination pushed her through until she managed to find someone that knew where the weyrleader was. This was how Naris found herslef entering the weyrleader's office, his now perfectly clean laundry held in her hands. She had been careful that nothing so much as touched it on her way there. After all, this was an important job. No matter how reluctantly she did it this was still the weyrleader's laundry and thus it must be handled carefully. When she enters the weyrleader's office she's wearing a simple dress with her thin black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Soon after steps in she pauses, giving a small curtsy and greeting him, "weyrleader Zi'on."

It's especially hard when Zi'on was out of the weyr for most of the day. The weyrleader tends to many of the interweyr relations. He also oversees the wings at Western, but handles much of that through his weyrsecond. At least he looks something more presentable sitting behind his desk fully awake than sipping klah in the caverns. "Ah, the lovely Naris. Thank you." He says, without looking up. A few moments later he moves the paper he's working on to the pile it belongs in and looks up. "Maybe I'll make you my permanent laundry fetcher. What do you think of that?"

It surprises her that he was able to tell who it was without even looking up. He must have quite the ear for voices, that or she was the only one to have reason to be in his office at this time. At his words about making her his permanent laundry fetcher she raises an eyesbrow. "The weyrleader's official laundry fetcher," she says to herself. "Well I guess there have been stranger titles. Anyway, where should I put this?"

Zi'on knew she wasn't Kiena or Enka, so that only leaves one other person it could be! Maybe he'd caught wind that she was looking for him and was expecting her? He chuckles. "Just leave it there. I'll have to bring it to my weyr when I'm finished. I hope you weren't rifling through my undies!" He gets up to look through the laundry. Really, he was mostly concerned about his leathers, and pulls them out to look at them. "How were the rest of your chores?"

Naris nods and carefully sets the laundry down, only to frown when he asks about her looking through his delicates. There is a confused look on her face when she turns to look at him. "Why would I be looking through your underwear?" Her voice was light and confused, not quite grasping why she would want to see a certain piece of someones clothes more than another. But she is soon distracted from this by the weyrleader asking how the rest of her chores went. The confusion is completely gone from her voice as she exclaims, "oh, they went great! I helped clean the stables again, helped cook, /and/ washed dishes. Combining that with getting your laundry I would say I did decently for the day, although I should still try to do better.

Zi'on laughs. "I dunno. Why -wouldn't- you want to look at my undies?" The bronzer carefully examines the stitching work on his leathers, and then slides the jacket on to ensure the fit is still good. Then he folds it up and puts it back. He peers at Naris. "You are the only person I've ever met that likes doing chores. Maybe you ought to talk to headwoman. She might need another assistant." He rubs his head a bit. "So what do you do for fun? And don't tell me chores are fun. I mean real fun."

Now he is asking why wouldn't she want to look at his underwear. She opens her mouth and very nearly begins to explain exactly why she doesn't want to look at his underwear only to realize that that might very well be a rhetorical question. In the end she frowns and does not answer, instead listening to him as he continues to speak. At his suggestion that she talk to the headwoman a grin crosses her face, in fact she's practically glowing. Then he goes and throws a flyball, asking what she does for fun and saying that she /can't/ say chores. Naris frowns at this, honestly struggling to come up with an answer. After a moment she responds, "well… Um, I guess I like to read records when I have the chance?"

It is a rhetorical question. Well, in the probably shouldn't be answered allowed sort of way. At least not to Zi'on. Making friends with the weyrleader wasn't all bad! Though Zi'on is afraid of the headwoman, so if Naris wants an introduction she'll have to get Enka to do it. He motions to a chair across from his desk, then moves around back to his own office chair. "What sorts of records? Flight records? Thread records? Birth records? You should look up my father sometime. He's got lots and lots of records."

Ah, now they're talking about something she can sink her teeth into. Much better than this mornings talk of flights. With a grin Naris sits down in the chair, making sure she was using proper posture and looked well put together. At his question she responds, "I like to read any type I can get my hands on. However, I particularly like records concerning hatchings, flights, and the older turns. You know, long ago, when thread still fell and what he consider horribly traditional was considered normal. The older the record the better it is in my head. After all, isn't there something amazing about learning about our ancestors?" She stopped briefly to take a deep breath and ask, "your father, eh? What's his name? If he has records I'd be very interested in meeting him."

Zi'on doesn't really hold on ceremony, so he won't notice if she has bad posture or not really. "Ah. Well, there are plenty of hatching records to be read. Lineage charts… rider charts.. The whole deal." There's a shrug from Zi'on. "I suppose it is. It's interesting to know Suldith's line, at least." He looks up at her. "My father's name is L'ton Shipton. His dragon's name is Dhonzayth. They lived here at Western for a long while, but they sired clutches all over. And my father had many many kids of his own."

Naris nods as he talks about the hatching records. Soon after he finishes talking she contributes, "I'm hoping to take some notes on the hatchlings and riders myself at the next hatching. In fact I might do that for all the hatchings I see from now on, no such thing as too many notes." She then tilted her head to the side slightly, clearly thinking about something. After a moment she comments, "Shipton, eh? I think I heard of that name before, and I'm almost certain I heard of Dhonzayth before. Probably because of the clutches. Anyway, it's rather rare for someone to have a second name, isn't it?"

Zi'on nods to Naris. "Some notes, eh? About the new hatchlings and the weyrlings? What's to note that isn't already captured in the records?" He's curious really. Other than who impressed to what colors he never really took much notice of the hatching. Unless he had a vested interest in whoever was standing. "Mm. Shipton. It's not uncommon for holders. Generally their second name is their hold name. I keep my father's so that people know. But most weyrfolk don't have a second name, it's true."

Naris is slightly surprised when he asks what there is to note that isn't captured in the records. After all, the answer was glaring them in the face. "Personality traits, of course! How the dragonets appear to behave before and after impressing, how the riders have behaved in the past and how they interact with their dragon. It could be rather useful when dealing with weyrling training, you would have some clue as to how who might react to what instead of going in blind." When he spoke of his last name Naris raised an eyebrow in interest, a little habit of hers. Her voice is calm and cool as she says, "Ah, I see. I've lived in Western my whole life, in fact my family can trace its roots all the way back to the first weyrfolk of Western. That's probably why I don't have a second name." After a moment she jokingly added, "Although I suppose I could use Western as my second name."

Zi'on laughs. "But a lot of people change after they impress. And the dragons on the sands don't have much personalities until they impress. At least I don't think they do. The Weyrlingmasters generally have interactions with the candidates. They're ultimately responsible for them. But still, if you want to take notes, go right ahead." He shrugs a bit. After thumbing through some papers he nods. "I was born at Ista. Then I moved to Telgar. And then I lived here. Except for a short standing at Ista, of course." He chuckles. "I suppose you could. It is sort of a second name for weyrfolk."

Naris shrugs and comments, "who knows, it might still be useful one day. Besides, it gives me something to do with my hands other than rub them together. And let me tell you, if there's anything to add to the silent and creepy effect it's someone sitting there madly rubbing their hands together." Interest is still showing on her face as he lists all the places he's lived. "Wow," she murmurs. "I've never left Western except to go to a couple gathers. Anyway, Naris Western it is then!"

Zi'on shrugs as well. "Maybe. At least it might provide fodder for someone looking to write a book about candidates and their dragons. There might be some correlation between certain types of people and certain types of dragons maybe." He looks up and raises an eyebrow at her. "You're weird. Weirder than I am. People will certainly think you're mad if you go around calling yourself with a second name like that. Also with the hand rubbing and the staring." He picks up a stack of papers and taps them on the desk to straighten them before putting them down into a pile. "Well, thanks for retrieving my laundry, Naris. I'll make sure to call you again in a few days when I have more." He chuckles. "I should get home though. If Kiena's been waiting for me she'll be grumpy."

Naris nods, not having thought about Zi'on's new idea until now. When he calls her weird she actually lets out a little laugh. She was called a great many things in her childhood, scrawny, weakling, pathetic. After all that being called weird really isn't that bad at all. With a grin she leans forward slightly and whispers, "wanna know a secret? All the best people are mad, or at least a little bit weird." When he thanks her for retrieving his laundry and says he should get some she nods and stands up before saying, "and I should probably go to bed, the earlier you go to sleep the earlier you can wake up after all. Good luck with your Kiena, if she's too upset just tell her you got confronted over your silent and creepy brooding." With that she stood up, gave a little curtsy, and began to exit the weyr.

Zi'on wasn't really concerned with how physically fit Naris was. She could handle his laundry! That was good enough for him. The weyrleader peers at her as she leans in towards him. He pokes at her nose. "Well don't go too mad on me. I don't want to have to strap you to a bed in the infirmary." He laughs. "If Kiena is mad I'll be doing -her- laundry for forever. And sleeping on the couch." He nods to her as she curtsies. "Goodnight, Naris."
As she walked out Naris raised a hand in the air and called, "night, weyrleader beard-man!" With that she walked out, heading back down to her room. As she walked down to her room she decided that, despite her first impression, Zi'on wasn't that bad after all.

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