A Visit From Number Two

Western Weyr - Shipton-Irondell Hotel
This king sized weyr has plenty of space for humans and dragons alike. The floors have been worn smooth and mostly level while the walls remain more rough and uneven all in mottled shades of gray. The roomy dragon couch has been covered in a layer of padding and then furs.The arched opening from the ledge lets in light and when the tropical sun is at rest or hidden in the clouds baskets of glows chase away the darkness from their perches in sconce-like baskets around the weyr interior. A long bar provides a place to eat and is set with four tall barstools, set in front of a wall of cabinetry and a long counter for storage and simple meal preparation. A hewn firepit inhabits one wall and a plaid sofa and chair are set before it on a brick red rug, centered for conversation with a low coffee table and side tables. The living area is kept fairly neat.
The exception to the clean living area is the table in the living room. Zi'on apparently is using it as a work table for some sort of electronics project. It looks like it might be a computer monitor or some other viewing display. There are wires and nuts and bolts laying around, also a soldering gun and a voltmeter.
A smaller arch leads to a short hallway with a bedroom on one end and a washroom on the other. The bedroom is complete with a dresser, bedside tables and a large bed with a mirrored wardrobe reflecting light from glow baskets set around the room. It's very lived-in, there is clothing and random junk all over the place. The washroom is spacious and one corner is taken up by a deep tub and opposite that a shower large enough for at least two.

Mid-morning, and when Ila'den hadn't /seen/ Zi'on show up at the office, the Weyrsecond had begun to /worry/. Sure, it would have been an easy enough task to have Teimyrth check in on him through Suldith, but where was the fun in that? THERE IS NO FUN IN IT. Hence why, before Ila'den has even finished his first report of the day, he's knocking at Zi'on's door. Literally. Then, whether or not he is invited /inside/, the bronzerider is shouldering his way inside. And there, just there, is Zi, pastry-covered manfur and all, doing exactly what Ila'den wants to do every morning: nothing. "There you are," he says, and then he's moving to sit on the couch right beside Zi'on, stretching out his limbs as he leans backwards with a yawn. "We should have a pajama day in the office some day, you know. Then you could just do this there."

Worry? That Zi'on's been murdered by pirates and then left dying on a beach somewhere next to his dead dragon? HARDLY. True it would be less fun. Also Suldith is snoozing on his ledge with a big mental DO NOT DISTURB sign up. "Eh?" Is Zi'on's answer to the door knocking. Probably one of the cleaning drudges or someone to pick up his laundry. "Laundry is in the bedroom." He says, not looking up and just pointing. Zi'on is -working-. He's just working in his undies sitting on the couch. He jumps a bit as Ila'den sits down. "Ila'den, what are you doing here? Also, why would I have a pj day at the office when I can just sit here and have one? Anyways, now that you're here we should discuss promotions and Rou'x's return."

"I am not your maid," Ila'den says, around laughter. "Do your own damn laundry." Not that he does /his/. That's what a weyrmate is for, after all! Still, there's a lazy roll of his head so that those grey eyes can fix on Zi, and then he's smiling that roguish smile. "Because then /I/ could go to the office in my pajamas, and fall asleep at my desk much more comfortably." But then the Weyrleader is going to business, and Ila'den's arms come across his chest as he heaves a bit of a sigh. "Aye, right right. Already been trouble since that one's come back, but let's talk Rou'x and promotions. What are you thinkin', boss?"

Zi'on peers at Ila. "I don't do my own laundry. I don't have time for that and neither does Kiena. I have some weyrbrat come and fetch it and then bring it back. I pay them." Zi'on takes a bite of his pastry. "You could stay at home and do that, too. Then I don't have to look at that creepy mole you have on your back." That's right! Business! There will be no kissings or gropings today. "S'rorn needs a new wingsecond, and he's put Ir'e up on the chopping block. All in favor?" Ila's the only one there, but still he didn't know how Ila'den felt about Ir'e. If he even knew the man.

Paying weyrbrats for laundry running. The idea has Ila'den laughing again, and when Zi'on mentions a mole, the Weyrsecond leans in close with a smile. "You've been paying a lot of attention to my back, I see. Did that kiss of yours put ideas into your head, friend? Sorry, but I'm happily taken." And just to be a creeper, because that's what Ila'den does /best/, he reaches out to 'helpfully' brush away some of those crumbs from Zi'on's manfur. Oh yes, that just happened. Ila is grinning like a madman when he settles back in his seat, and agrees to the promotion of Ir'e around some laughter. "S'rorn spends the most time with them, so I'll trust his judgement, and from what I can tell of Ir'e, he seems up to the task. Tell me your thoughts on Rou'x, though. Must more interested in that."

Zi'on leans back and shoves Ila'den away. "No. It's just gigantic and hideous. Like the rest of you." Zi'on smacks Ila'den's hand away from himself and then brushes the rest of the crumbs away. He gives Ila'den the eyes. EYES. No it did not just happen. "Well, S'rorn is the most level-headed person around. And Ir'e is responsible and patient. Patient enough to put up with that smart assed weyrmate of his. So let's fast track that so S'rorn doesn't have to wait for help." Zi'on shrugs to Ila'den. "Obviously we can't have her in a leadership position. She is too unstable. Put her in as a rider, make sure she doesn't end up with any sort of responsibilities until we can be sure she's calmed down."

Ila'den is MANHANDLED, and all the shoving, and leaning, and EYEBALLING has the bronzerider in /tears/ from laughter. It's probably highly inappropriate, being that they are supposed to be talking business, but Ila simply can't help it. Zi's reacts to his closeness are just to priceless, and encouraging as hell. "Okay," he says, around a breath, indulging in one more chuckle before getting back on track. "I haven't had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting his weyrmate, though I've heard stories about him. You want me to give him the promotion, or do you want S'rorn to do it?" There's pause, grey eyes peeking open to look over at Zi, and then he dissolves into laughter all over again. He's hopeless, really. Really /hopeless/. Finally he regains a bit more of his composure, and he's sitting up a little straighter. "You're right, she's way too unstable for any higher positions, and too unstable to be out on the field just yet. I agree that we should just keep her in exercises, and if we're pressed for additional hands, we can give her smaller tasks that she can't possibly screw up. How long do we want to keep her grounded, though?"

Zi'on does not find this funny! He gives Ila'den an annoyed growl. "Forget it. I'm making Ir'e my new weyrsecond. You can join the herd and bother whoever your new boss ends up being." Zi'on gives Ila'den a droll look. "Just invite him to the office and we'll give it to him. I don't think S'rorn has the time right now. His weyrmate is a jerk, and from what I can tell a waste of space. I'm not really sure what he does around the weyr. That's why I intend to search him at the next clutch. But I think he has a fear of dragons." There's more grunting as Ila'den starts laughing again. "Would you be quiet please? We'll never get anything done with you acting like a jackass." he sighs and ponders. "I don't think there's reason to keep her grounded anymore. Put her back into search and rescue, put her back on drills. And maybe a daytime sweep with plenty of other riders over a fairly safe area. Like the weyr itself. And we'll go from there."

Why does Zi'on even try? The threat to demote him has Ila'den leaning sideways and draping an arm over Zi'on, smiling as though he's just turned into the Cheshire Cat. "You would miss me too much," he says, and he doesn't bother moving away, unless Zi'on forces him to do so. In which case, he will happily lean back into his spot, and laugh all the more for being called a jackass. He does not, however, comment any further on the abuse. "I'll invite him tomorrow, and I'll invite his weyrmate too, just to see that look on your face and give him a chance at revenge before you subject him to a search." There's a pause, a roll of his shoulders, and then the bronzerider is actually going a little somber as the talk turns back to Rou'x, and he sighs. "You're the boss, Zi'on, I just still don't feel like she's ready yet. I heard there was a confrontation between her and Ir'e, and I heard there was a confrontation between her and Naris, and Naris was lucky enough to have Ir'e's weyrmate there to stop things from getting any worse. Even doing sweeps with plenty of riders- what is she going to do if any of them /say/ anything? We can threaten them until we're blue in the face, but people talk, and she's a fighter."

Zi'on rolls his eyes, but doesn't push Ila'den further by shoving him again. He might end up with a kiss or Ila'den's hand down his boxers or something. "What? Don't invite his weyrmate, that doesn't even make sense. To GET searched. For candidacy. There aren't any eggs on the sands you idiot." Zi'on furrows his brow at Ila'den. "If you already know her punishment why are you asking me? She has to be reintegrated sometime. Ir'e isn't in her wing so they don't have to interact. And Naris is somewhat disrespectful anyways. Just make it clear to her that any further infractions will have her deknotted completely and she'll be starting over at a new weyr. Tell her there will be zero tolerance. And tell the wingleaders to tell their riders to keep their mouths shut or they'll be joining her. We have bigger fish to fry and I'm tired of some of these riders acting like weyrbrats on the job." While Zi'on sits around in his underwear covered in pastry flakes. "If they have problems, they can take it up with you." He grins. "So what happened in these confrontations?"

"What? Zi'on, sometimes I wonder if you listen to yourself when you talk." Ila'den lets out a long-suffering sigh, and then says, "Fine. No weyrmates, but you are taking half the fun out of giving Ir'e a promotion. And I wasn't /asking/ you, it was a rhetorical question. I'm not worried about what's going to happen to Rou'x, I'm worried about what's going to happen to the other riders, and I /just said/ we can threaten them but not everybody is going to listen." Grey eyes fix on the 'leader, and then he's tilting his head to the side, smile turning mischievous as he says, "Well, I heard that Ir'e threatened to throw Rou'x out of the weyr himself, with or without your permission, if she doesn't bring his children home. And Naris heard from the rumor mill about Rou'x's incident, and said a little too much. She went across a table to threaten her, and Rhabel pulled her off, and Naris turned tail and ran. But I don't know the finer details. I wasn't there in person, just getting it secondhand from others who were. How have you not heard about these already?"

"That's sometimes I wonder if you listen to yourself when you talk, sir!" Zi'on pokes Ila'den in the chest on the 'sir'. And then a few more times for fun. "How is having his weyrmate there fun? I can't stand him and if I weren't weyrleader I'd be giving him a pre-cleaning latrine swirly every time we bumped into each other." Zi'on frowns. "They're entitled to their own opinions, and I don't care what they talk about as long as its amongst themselves." Zi'on sighs. "Well, we can address those issues before we give Ir'e the knot. I know he's upset, but he doesn't have the authority to do that. Plus you win more flies with sweetener. If he wants Rou'x to come around he'd be better off presenting her with reasons for him to get his way." Zi'on peers at Ila'den. "You know I've been out of the weyr for meetings. I don't have time to catch up with the sewing circle, that's why I have you. Also Enka. I haven't talked to Enka in a while. Nor have I been spending much time in the caverns. Anyways, I think Naris needs a little something to teach her respect for the riders here. Maybe scare her a little…" He ponders. "Maybe we ought to throw her in the jail or something overnight."

Ila'den fends Zi'on's poking hand away with a couple of bats, and it has him shifting his body /away/ from Zi while he laughs. "Maybe it's not fun for you, Zi, but if it makes you miserable, then it makes /me/ happy." The talk of riders and opinions has Ila shaking his head, and he's saying, "I'm not trying to stifle their opinions, I'm trying to stifle it becoming our problem with a fight breaks out. Or, more accurately put, /my/ problem." Yes, those eyes fix Zi with a /look/, and then he's matching sighs. "Aye, let them deal with their own problems, Zi. I don't think it's either of our places to get involved. What they do with their kids is going to be on their own time, not on mine, and if being in separate wings isn't good enough for them, then we'll force /them/ into jail overnight until they figure something out." But there's more laughter, and Ila'den's looking deviant, "On what grounds are you going to throw her in jail overnight for, Zi'on? We can't just go being tyrants because it's hilarious." Which Ila'den does on a daily basis. To everybody.

Zi'on gives Ila'den a face that looks like bcwfdog.jpg and finishes up his pastry. "Go get me another pastry. Make sure it has cream in it. Seriously I would rather have Rhabel be my weyrsecond right now, I am hating you that much." Zi'on grunts. "Just throw her out then. Problem solved. But every day you keep her grounded makes her more unhappy and more prone to fighting. And makes the riders think less of her. But do whatever you think is right, since you'll be the one cleaning up the mess." Zi'on shrugs. "It'll just be friendly advice. Except the part about telling Ir'e he can't do that." Zi'on chuckles. "We could sell tickets to that fight." Zi'on flips over a page on his clipboard. "Oh I don't know. Accuse her of stealing something or conspirating with pirates. Just say she stole some of my laundry. My underwear. You don't even really have to throw her in, just make her think you're going to. Bring some of the search riders with you and some guards."

OH, that face. It has the opposite effect. Ila'den dissolves into more laughter. The talk of Rhabel being Weyrsecond, even, has Ila perking right up. "/Fantastic/. So then you /do/ want me to invite him to Ir'e promotion? It'll be a double promotion, and I still get to see your face. And then your face for the rest of forever, when you're stuck dealing with him like you have to deal with me." Except Rhabel might be more /logical/, given that he isn't prone to trouble and mischief. Ila'den shakes his head, and then gets to his feet, doing exactly as Zi'on's ordered and returning with another of those cream-filled pastries. "I don't want to throw her out, don't be ridiculous. If you think it's best for her to be in the air, then she'll go. I trust you more than I trust myself." Mostly because Ila'den has his /own/ mental issues. "Aye, aye. We'll get tickets arranged for the fight, and bring in some income, but do you /seriously/ want me to scare Naris? Last time I did that, my nose paid for it dearly." Still, he's slowly, slowly smiling more and more until. "Getting tossed in jail for stealing the Weyrleader's underwear. /Brilliant/. Zi, I'm going to go now. I have to find some guards and fill them in. Unless you needed anything else?"

Wait, Ila'den has mental issues? WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED. "No, I don't. I'm serious, I don't want him there. Ir'e can tell him on his own time. I don't have time for someone's opinions who doesn't know anything about running a weyr, being a rider, or even dragons. Don't tell Ir'e what it's for when you summon him. Tell him I called for you and that's it." Zi'on tears the pastry in half and offers the side with less cream to Ila. "All I want is for things to be back to normal. It's high time the gold started rising, and I don't want a bunch of unhappy riders around when they do. I'd like to make sure the wings are fully staffed and that there's little to worry about in case you or I need to egg-sit." He laughs. "Yes, well. Bring some guards. No, that's all. I'll be in the office in just a bit, once I've finished breakfast. Or lunch, or whatever hour meal this is and I've had a bath." Since Ila'den's been TOUCHING him in PLACES.

ILA'DEN COOTIES ARE THE BEST. Zi'on gives him the least creamy-half, and it earns the Weyrleader a dark look, though Ila'den takes it regardless. "Aye, aye, /sir/. I will get your little arrangements all figured out and settled in" But since there's nothing else to do, Ila'den pops that pastry into his mouth, smiles around it, and throws the younger bronzerider a salute. Just like that, he's hurrying out the door to find some guards, because broken knuckles is not enough payback for what Naris did to his FACE.

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