Useful Experiences (Elixyvette is Searched)

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Rec Cavern
This large cavern is painted a pleasant shade of pale blue-green, with purple highlights along borders. The weyr's badge is featured in a twin tapestries hanging on either side of the entry. Directly inside the doors and to the right is an area with bookshelves and a long computer desk for the public computer. Several chairs line the desk so that people waiting for the computer may pursue other studies. To the left of the entrance is a sitting area with a chess set built into a table.
Along the wall to the left is a bar, set up against the storage closet. Tall metal chairs with bright purple and blue-green cushions line the bar; beside the bar is a pair of gambling machines. Prior to recent renovations, the bar was set up on the other side of the room in front of a huge mirror inset into the wall. Now that mirror is behind a slightly elevated stage featuring a piano recently built by the Harper Hall and transported to the islands. Several music stands and musician's chairs are stacked against the wall, for use when Harpers or weyrfolk desire to perform.
Along the wall opposite the entrance are dart boards, each with a set of couches and chairs nearby for relaxation between turns. And all throughout the room are sitting areas with similarly constructed couches and chairs, all featuring blue-green or purple fabric. Short, darkly stained wooden tables are centered inside each sitting area, for games, food, drinks, and whatever else weyrfolk need. Near the center of the room is a large, long table useable both for crafty pursuits or table tennis, and interspersed throughout the room are card tables with wooden, cushioned chairs.

Though there’s room enough in her quarters to teach one-to-one lessons or smaller groups, Elixyvette has opted to use the rec cavern for the work she’s presently going over with one of her apprentices. Sheets of music lie spread out over a small area of floor before the chair that she’s chosen to occupy in one of the sitting areas, each sheet accompanied by small images that seem to coincide with key and tempo changes, or particular notes out of the ordinary, and, while she watches, the blonde-haired apprentice sat at her feet arranges the images as it would seem best suits her, pinning them carefully to paper.

The sound of shuffling comes from the entranceway, though it’s followed with heavier sounding footfalls of someone making their way towards the rec room. R’en’s voice can be heard talking to someone along the way, though the conversation is muddied by distance and obstruction to really tell what it’s about. The sounds of speaking cease, and whomever he was speaking with slips off and he finishes making his way into the cavern itself. His pale gaze sweeps over the room, looking for familiar faces and lacking that – ones that seem friendly enough. Carrying a small stack of work, he walks over to the nearest table to put it down, not so loud as to cause too much disturbance before he suggests, “Tables are better for sorting, aren’t they?” He wonders, remaining standing near the table and looking down over the papers that are spread out. “For playing something or other?” Yeah, he’s real good with music, knows nothing at all.

“Not always,” Elixyvette easily replies, giving a nod to her apprentice to continue working while she supplies a response for the both of then. “Muscle memory and recalling more active situations than sitting at a table often works better for kinaesthetic learners. Especially if they’ve not had a terribly good experience being made to sit and copy and repeat.” Tilting her head, she watches the girl for a few moments, tracking her progress without interfering, before confirming, “Mari is working on learning a piece for her exams.” Then: “She has a little trouble processing her letters and notations, so she’s going to use images to help her commit it to memory.” Mari herself doesn’t appear to be concerned that she’s being spoken about, either content enough with the explanation or too focused on her task to notice.

Sitting on a floor, or sitting on a chair really doesn’t seem that different to me – but to each is own.” R’en agrees, though pulls out a chair for himself to sit on. He’s fairly tall, so it’s not difficult for him to see where they’re working even if his attention turns towards the papers he’s brought with him which have drawings of their own on them. Nothing boring like wing reports or the other like that one might expect of him to carry around, but fairly morbid drawings of the inner workings of human bodies. “What’s your name, then?” He asks, his gaze flicking between the paper he’s looking at and the pair – of which he knows one of their names. “I’m R’en, bronze Sindrieth’s.” Yep, seems he’s going to be interrupting the lesson a fair amount if nobody stops him.

Mari lifts another brief look to her teacher, dark eyes momentarily sliding to R’en, yet the work before her seems to require enough of her focus that that glance is all she can spare him before she’s choosing an image to place beneath a sequence of rapidly ascending notes. “Elixyvette,” the older of the two Harpers supplies, inclining her head a little to acknowledge R’en’s introduction. “Senior Journeyman.” She must assume of what is evident enough from the work going on. “Duties to your bronze,” is provided rather correctly and a touch too automatically, quite as if Elixyvette is ticking expected manners off of a list. “I specialise in law, but an apprentice’s curriculum runs to so much more than that, unless you wish to limit them.”

“I’m a Senior Journeyman too. But, Healer.” R’en answers, his voice low enough that it ought not disturb too terribly. “I know how the duties of an Apprentice are, at any rate, even if it’s not of the same field.” He muses, and slides his hand over the papers in his possession, tilting his head at some unknown conversation that might be taking place within his head. “Elixyvette. That’s a mouthful. Got a nickname? Lixy? Vette? Elix?” Yeah, he’ll just make them up himself, it seems, though which he prefers is hard to tell, they’re all spoken with the same tone. “I think your student can study without you hawking over her for a little bit. Come here for a minute?” He says, pointing at the chair across from him lest she think he’s becoming too uncouth.

There’s the slightest narrowing of amber eyes that could well be just plain flinching around the moment that R’en opts for ‘Lixy’, yet Elixyvette reacts little enough to the other options provided, to the extent that it’s difficult to tell whether she approves of or prefers any of them at all. She observes him with what is, for the most part, an unreadable expression, then darts another look to Mari and gets smoothly to her feet, in no hurry to comply with what she’s been asked. Wary, even. But still, she sits herself down in the designated chair, back straight and hands folded in her lap. “I was taught that I was given a name to be mine and if people can’t manage it, then I ought to accept their failings and anything they want to call me.” And not all of what they’ve wanted to call her can have been nice, from her dry tone. However, today she digs her heels in and insists, “Not Lixy.”

It’s almost as though R’en’d expected that reaction from the smile that crosses his face, almost a smirk – but not quite. He glances towards Mari, watching to see if she’s going to continue while Elixyvette actually gets up and takes the chair across from him even against her better judgement. The bronzerider seems relaxed though, comfortable in his chair and leaning back into it once she sits with her position all proper and fixed – while he’s leaning and slouching away. “Mmm. Right. My name was Airen before I Impressed, and some women get their names shortened once they do as well – do you think it’s because the dragons are failing and can’t manage names properly?” He arches a brow, curious, before adding, “Have you ever stood for a clutch of eggs?”

“I think that a dragon needs a rider and needs them to be theirs, and one way of ensuring that they know that from the start is to change their riders’ names.” It’s a theory presented very matter of fact, as though conclusions have been drawn from texts and data, instead of any true understanding or experience. “It’s a matter of survival, isn’t it?” she asks in turn, her words lacking in any change of key that might signal a true question, leaving it somewhat rhetorical. “I’ve been firmly entrenched in Holds and Halls since I became an apprentice. This is my first posting to any Weyr; the closest I’ve been to dragons unless in need of swift transport.” However limited that may make her life experience sound, she bears it as well as if she confessed to having travelled the world. “I witnessed a Hatching when I was an apprentice, when my Master thought it would be a useful experience.” But nothing more, it sounds like.

“It doesn’t always happen though, some with exceedingly complex names don’t get changed.” R’en says, though it’s not like he’s gone through any books to get information – just from some of his experiences and tongue twisting to try and say people’s names properly. However, he doesn’t seem inclined to keep pursuing that line of questioning any more than she does, dropping it altogether after he says that one thing. His gaze lingers on her for a few more moments, and he sighs, digging a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a knot that is clearly for a candidate from the white thread strung through it. “Would you like to stand for this current one? Sindrieth seems to think you’d be.. mm.” He pauses, trying to either think of the word himself, or be offered it. “That it might be good for you, and perhaps the other candidates.” He says, slipping the knot to the middle of the table between them like some kind of peace offering.

There’s that stare again, only, this time, it appears to be directed at some point on an imaginary horizon, rather than at R’en himself. A blink, then Elixyvette directs her gaze towards that knot, studying it as if she’s never seen one up-close before. In all likelihood, she hasn’t. “But I’m…” she starts to say in the moment before she gets control of herself and forces silence to define her response. Said silence lingers as she watches that knot, yet, unsurprisingly, it doesn’t reveal its secrets or provide her with an answer. “…Do I get to think about it?” she enquires, meaning to keep any emotion at all from her words. “There are… people I need to talk to.” Despite this request for a reprieve, her hands dart out of their own volition and hook fingers into the offered knot, claiming it before it might be taken away from her.

While she’s staring into the distance, R’en tries to make it a little less like he’s hawking over her for an immediate response. The knot is left where it lies, until she’s talking about thinking about it, and that there’s people that she needs to talk to. He doesn’t immediately reach for it, and by the time he thinks to – she’s already taken it from the tabletop. “Ah, of course. I had to do a similar kind of thing when I got asked, it’s fine.” He assures, and doesn’t request it from her once she’s claimed it. “A couple days, then either you return the knot or move into the barracks. Deal, Elixyvette?” See, he does know names, and is polite enough to use the full ones when requested. Some of the time.

“Thank you.” It sounds too mannered for genuine appreciation, something akin to autopilot possessing Elixyvette once more, though there remains a hint of something more than the need to provide the correct, expected response. Perhaps it’s conflict, for she doesn’t quite manage to look directly at R’en again, nor at the knot she’s claimed, yet the need for clarity demands that she agrees, “Deal,” her tone unchanged. “If you’ll… excuse me.” Even Mari will have to excuse her for a while, as she gets to her feet and walks straight past her apprentice in her effort to get to just about anywhere else as quickly as possible. At least, anywhere that she doesn’t have to maintain her ever-present neutrality. And, well, Mari is a good girl. She won’t speak of her interrupted lesson.

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