Winter is Coming?

Characters Alexa, Mathis
Synopsis Alexa pops up to Fort for a respite from the heat and runs into a rather frosty candidate.
Out-of-Character Date June 6, 2019

Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling -- a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.

Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

Mid-morning on a crisp Autumn day here at Fort Weyr finds one of it's candidates eating a late breakfast. Mathis sits at one of the tables, not so much by himself as paying no attention to those few around him, cutting a slice of redfruit free from the whole with a small knife and biting into it. His attention is in full upon the open book on ancient woodcarving techniques before him, chewing unhurriedly as soon as the slice disappears into his mouth.

Autumn in Fort comes with a crisp breeze and a riot of color; reds and oranges and golds, as if each tree were trying to outshine the other. Autumn in Igen comes with… Well. Nothing really. The days might get shorter, but there's nothing but sand for days and days. Unceasing sand. Which is maybe why Alexa has escaped up to the north, taking her queen to Fort to trade the golden dunes of sand for golden leaves instead. A large maple (or whatever Pern's equivalent) trapped and twirled within her fingers, the foreign weyrling comes striding into the living caverns like she owns the place. Or at least, like she's not at all shy about walking in and stealing a seat. And poor Mathis. Maybe it's the white knot on his shoulder, a token that seems to say 'I'm safe because I'm a candidate and therefore can't tell you to get lost', or maybe it's his preoccupation with that book (it certainly piques Alexa's interest until she sees what it's about). Whatever it is, she's quick to claim a seat at the poor boy's table, thunk her elbows upon the top of it, and assert herself with an amazingly informal, "Hey. You," that would definitely have R'sner scowling.

And there's Mathis, minding his own business, when someone he's never seen before plunks herself down and wastes no time in choosing who it was she'd like to focus on. Him, of all people. Hazel eyes lift from the pages of the book he'd been reading, brows along with them, and instantly his gaze darts to the knot on the weyrling's shoulder. Igen Weyrling it clearly stated, with a gold lifemate to boot. Somehow he manages not to sigh, sliding the feather he's using as a bookmark in between the pages of his book and he closes it, squaring out his shoulders, "Fort's duties to Igen and her queens," he replies in a very practiced way, "How may I be of service?"

He might have been minding his own business, but now Alexa is all up in it, nose wrinkling at the formality with which her greeting is returned. "Really? People actually say that stuff?" Huh. "Alright then. Igen's greetings to Fort and her queens," she returns, managing to sound almost serious about it. "Sounds weird," she decides, chin plunked into the palm of the hand whose elbow was recently plunked onto the table. "You could just say 'Hi'. It would probably suffice." As for how he may be of service? A one-shouldered shrug comes as green eyes briefly divert to the twirling of the leaf in her free hand. "I dunno. What can you do?"

"Hmmhmm," Mathis returns, "They really do." His tone is kept on the neutral side of polite, picking his redfruit back up and slicing off another thin section, apparently meant to savor eat and bite rather then gorge himself upon it. There might have at least smiled for the way that Alexa repeats his greeting in kind and then announces how weird it sounded, but instead there is a light lift and drop of his shoulders, "I'm a candidate and you're a…representative of sorts…from another weyr," is given in explanation, "So no, 'hi', would not have sufficed." Redfruit slice placed inside his mouth, he chews on it no less thoughtfully than he had before, leaning against the back of his chair as he looks Alexa over, then slides his eyes towards the leaf she twirls in her hand, "I can give you directions if you need to be somewhere specific, or carry your bags for you if you brought any."

"No. I'm a weyrling from another Weyr" she corrects, "And my name is Alexa." While there might be a huff of indignation, she refrains from sticking her tongue out at him. Because that would be the height of immature, and Alexa has probably(?) moved past that by now. "And frankly, that's dumb. If I greet you with 'Hey you', I'm pretty sure you're allowed to say 'hi' in return. It would be different," she allows, "if I'd issued a more formal greeting. But I didn't. I was exceedingly *in*formal, for exactly this reason." Tis a good thing Mathis is cutting those redfruit slices bit by bit, or Alexa would definitely steal one from him. Just to make a point. Even if it could incite an inter-Weyr conflict (which it probably wouldn't). Leaf-twirling comes to a halt when he answers her question however, and Alexa fixes Mathis with a deadpan look. "You'd… carry my bags?!" That is not the sound of swooning, but rather dumbfounded disbelief. "Yeah… not thanks. I don't have any bags. And I'm pretty sure I can manage this," she declares, wagging the leaf at him, "without assistance." But directions? A tip of her head and a twist of her body, and she considers the living caverns for a moment or two. "Alright. I suppose that'll work. Just point me in the very specific direction of the weyrlingmaster's office, and I'll leave you to your brooding and insufferable formality."

Mathis presses his lips together as Alexa argues with him, not reiterating his point as much as he really wanted to. Something, just something about this weyrling told him he'd be wasting his breath. Nor does he offer up his name, which fortunately is not emblazoned upon his person nor any of his preset possessions. Unlike his woodcarving set. "I apologize if I offended you," he says instead, in that very same infuriatingly neutral tone, decidedly not taking the bait as it were. Another slice of redfruit cut off and directed into the place it would do the most good, and he chews as Alexa looks at him like that. In response to her disbelief, he nods, as to indicate that he would in fact carry her bags for her if that is something she needed. An act that was both polite and helpful, as he had attempted to be. Hazel eyes back to the leaf as it's waggled at him, he says nothing, but the slow shift of his gaze back to her face and the long look he gives in return might suggest he'd considered it. Tipping his chin towards the bowl exit, "The Weyrlingmaster's office is back that way, ma'am. I do hope you enjoy your visit and clear skies." Eyebrows lift and drop to punctuate the statement, as well as another slice of redfruit carved off and slid into his mouth.

"Wow. Seriously, are all Fortian's so damn frosty?" She's got jokes now. And a grin that says clearly enough she's having way too much fun poking at the bear. Even if he doesn't bite back. "Ugh, no. Just… no," decides Alexa, disgust written all over her face as she shoves herself to standing. "I'll allow 'weyrwoman' once this knot comes off," she declares, flicking her weyrling insignia with her fingers, "or even 'miss', but don't you dare 'ma'am' me. I'm not even twenty!" And it just makes her feel downright old. Still, there's a smirk for the sentiment, which she returns with a sassy, "And same to you, grumpy," as she slaps on a sloppy salute. "Thanks for your assistance. And try to smile once in a while, or your face might get stuck like that." Leaf twirling once more between her fingers, she waltzes her way right back out the living caverns and into the bowl, as if she owns that, too.

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