| Characters | R'sner, S'las |
| Synopsis | S'las has a dilemma. R'sner might be the solution. |
| Out-of-Character Date | June 15, 2018 |
Igen Weyr - S'las's Office
It's an office.
Early mornings are always a way of life for Igen's Weyrlingmaster. Even before Rukbat's rays has a chance to offer a faint glow over the horizon, the bluerider is up and about, getting his day started. Klah is brewed and somewhere around the organized chaos that is his office space is a spot to place the newly refilled cup. S'las stacks one stack of paperwork atop another, and another, then places it on a shelf. Constantly moving, things are organized in some unknown method, cleaning a reasonable amount of room on the rather large and imposing mahogany desk sitting in the center of his personal quarters. Once cleared, knuckles are cracked, and the man pulls forward three very specific files. One, he peers at, shaking his head. The previous Weyrlingmaster has since recovered from her injury but has since moved on to something 'lighter' for the foreseeable future. The other two Assistants, though… The first folder is opened up, and he begins reading the records brief. How long the person has been in the position, their annual reviews, any disciplinary, any awards or accolades. With each page, S'las just frowns deeper and deeper, shaking his head. "This person is free to go back to their original wing. They need to work on discipline before they can enforce it." As much as one would love to give a Weyrling indefinite punishments, such things can't be meted out without the review and permission of the Weyrlingmaster. There is a chain of command for a reason. The folder is closed and placed in his outbox, then the other is pulled closer with a heavy sigh. Not much promising, either. "I need a fresh start this go around." S'las twists around in his seat, peering at the top of his shelves at across the top of the brilliantly colored tapestries covering his walls. Each one vibrantly depicting each weyr in detailed glory. The gold firelizard he was seeking? Perched comfortably on Half Moon Bay's. A tiny smirk forms at the corner of his mouth, and the man peers down at the Weyrling files with a look that could only be described as sinister. Chessy, summon Toith and her rider to our weyr for 'professional business.' The odds of R'sner being around is pretty damn high, anyway. Might as well take advantage!
Early mornings are probably a way of life for most Weyrlingmasters. Even foreign, technically-on-vacation Weyrlingmasters. It is at least a /lazy/ morning, since there are no weyrlings to teach, or wings to drill with, or packages to be flown about. Apparently, vacationing is darn boring when the person you'd like to shake up with is currently occupied being a weyrling. So while the summons is somewhat surprising, and there might be a healthy dose of apprehension for it, Res accepts none the less. Toith is called back from her spot on the rim, and employed for the transport from their ledge to Chessy's. 'Professional' business means he's shown up in flight leathers, looking every bit the dragonrider that he is, despite the threat of Igen sunshine making such a thing uncomfortable later. Toith settles down, R'sner dismounts, and with only a moment of apprenhension he's settling his expression into something stern and typically stoic and heading in to meet his doom. Or, at least, S'las. "Hello?"
S'las pauses from his reading and his eyes slowly peer upwards to the entrance of his quarters, schooling the grin on his face to something a little bit more… innocent. He pushes himself up from his seat, quickly moving to a fairly new cushioned arm chair and he devests it of more paperwork before pulling it over to an appropriate location before his desk. "C'mon in and have a seat, R'sner. I've… Weyrlinghood matters to discuss with you. Nothing bad, I assure you." Well, perhaps it's a matter of perspective but the bluerider is just going to pick up his mug, taking a sip while leaving the statement hanging for a bit. After the mug is carefully placed back down, he takes a seat once more with fingers interwoven amongst each other and S'las takes in a deep breath. "As you can see, we have an interesting combination of weyrlings to dragons. Every cycle, in every weyr has them, but this case is rather…" He lifts his hands, turning them both in circles in time with the gears in his head while finding the words. "Lacking in the appropriate amount of mentors and role models. After taking back the role of Weyrlingmaster, I began to review my staff and found their roles were best suited out of Allspice and back into their respective wings. Sometimes there's skills rider's possess that outweigh others, and the stronger needs to be made priority. As of now, I'm terminating the position of one Assistant and the other is going to go through strict retraining to see if he's retainable. D'ru and his brown Cormiath might just need some refining. That leaves me short the appropriate number of staff I need to run this batch effectively." S'las takes up his mug once more, taking a sip while he watches the greenrider. Hopefully he hasn't figured it out and makes an attempt to flee.
Innocent. R'sner knows all about those 'fake innocent' looks, and this one is probably no different. There's skepticism in his eyes, a frown at his lips, and a hesitation in his steps before he moves forward and settles at the edge of that offered chair. "Alright," comes in a tone that says he is not convinced. A furrow of dark brows, and the lines at his mouth deepen as he frowns in consideration of S'las' words. It's that twist of his hand, the declaration of 'lacking mentors' that as the greenrider settling back and folding his arms across his chest, leather jacket creaking with the motion. A unconsciously defensive move, though he simply means to get comfortable. He's listening, though. That out to be apparent enough in the focus of his gaze and the little hints of expression; a dry twitch to the corner of his mouth, or the faint flick of an eyebrow that might suggest bit-back sarcasm. He hears him out, a dip of his chin signifying silent acknowledgement of the position S'las has found himself in. Short staffed. And here he is, a weyrlingmaster with a recently graduated bunch and nothing to occupy his day. Dots were definitely connected, but R'sner hasn't fled yet. "You know I'm involved with Na— N'sir," because that? That might just be a bit of an interesting challenge if he's meant to teach him.
"Oh, Believe me, I know. Undoubtedly. However, I also trust in your ability to follow the rules, to show discretion and to maintain a professional relationship throughout the duration of this Weyrlinghood." Which is true, S'las knows how much of a no-fun hard ass R'sner is, and he's just what he needs to keep this lot in check! "There's a benefit to having someone you know leading you, the level of trust is there so if issues arise, there's no hesitation to aire out those grievances. As for anything that requires grading for N'sir, it will fall to me exclusively to prevent conflicts of interest. You'll be able to be present and assist, but I'll do his evaluations." Seems fair, right? S'las sits back in his seat, taking his mug and just relaxing. R'sner isn't on the chopping block, here. Though, the bluerider waits patiently to see if there's anything else Res might have concerns about. "I apologize for suddenly dropping this in front of you on your vacation, all I can do is request but it's entirely up to you if you're up for it. We can wait til the end of your vacation or you can start now." Solstice cheeps from her perch, fluttering her wings and she swoops down in a glide, moving from Half Moon's tapestry to Igen's bright sunset colors. The cross breeze feels better here!
Fair, as well as welcome. There's a faint bit of relief at the knowledge that R'sner will not be responsible for passing or failing N'sir in anything. But it is the whole of the offer that the greenrider is considering, quietly weighing the decision and perhaps inquiring to Toith how she might feel on the matter. A flick of a glance for Solstice in her relocation, and the symbolism of it is not lost on him. A smirk, for that at least. Of course there is only one answer he can give, even after that weighty pause. "Vacations do not suite me," he decides, honest enough. Time off does /not/ suite R'sner. At least not at present. "However, before I say yes officially… I'd like to ask N'sir his thoughts on the matter. It seems… well. I won't be the only one having to maintain a 'professional' relationship," he notes. And really, the weyrlings are going through quite a bit of changes already; Res would rather not add to that stress. "Provided he agrees," which of course, he will, "I'll do it."
S'las finishes the contents of his mug and he places it down, pulling open a squeaky drawer with a wince. "So much for dramatic effect," he mutters, pulling out a small satchel wrapped in tissue paper. "Hang on to this, Assistant Weyrlingmaster. Should N'sir agree to the arrangement, you can hit the ground running if you choose. If not, well, just return it to me at your leisure." A freshly made knot appropriate to the position granted. "Fortunately for us, these changes went into effect not far into the cycle so the young dragons should have ample time to get accustomed to Toith as an authority figure."
If R'sner looks a bit twitching at that 'assistant' part of the title, he masks it well enough. A drop of his gaze, and then a lean forward to acquire the shiny-new knot meant to grace his shoulder. "Toith will convey our reply," because that is the polite thing to say. "You'll have an official answer by tonight." The knot gets tucked within a pocket of his leather jacket, and he moves as though to stand — hands pressed to the arms of the chair, balance shifted — before pausing to inquire, "I apologize in advance, if I overstep," because he's used to being incharge, and old habits die hard. "In that regard, are there expectations or limitations of this position that I should be aware of?"
"None." S'las pushes himself up to his feet, moving around the desk to be on R'sner's side. "R'sner. As far as the weyrlings and the weyr at large is concerned, you're my assistant and you get all of your guidance from me. As far as I am concerned, you're MY EQUAL. I trust in your judgement to leave you largely unattended in terms of teaching style. Everyone responds and learns differently, so having everyone on the same plan isn't going to benefit the weyrlings any. If I have any issues, I'll speak with you here behind closed doors and work out anything that needs it. Expectations? Train, train, train. Limitations? Within the limits of weyr law." Short, sweet, and to the point.
A press of fingers to his mouth, elbow pressed to the leather-clad arm of the chair he sits in as R'sner listens. A shallow nod and a lift of his gaze from where it had settled somewhat distantly on the desk. "Alright," comes with the sort of finality of one accepting their fate. But that seems to be all he has to say on the matter, completing the motions to rise with the shift of his weight and a push up from the chair. "Then, if that is all…?" and there's a question in the lift of his eyebrows and the inflection of his tone. "If a conflict arises," he adds, a shadow passing over his expression before he's schooled it back to something appropriately professional, "I'll let you know."
"R'sner. Conflict resolution and resiliency is a big part of being a Weyrlingmaster. I cannot stress this enough, that issues can't be left to linger and fester into something that causes prolonged unnecessary harm. It goes both ways. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too." S'las isn't privy to the emotional goings on of R'sner, N'sir, or any of the weyrlings under his care. He only knows what he can catch and what Chessylith can provide. He does motion with a tilt of his head towards his ledge, letting both men have a chance at a breath of fresh morning air.
"I don't anticipate a conflict," explains the greenrider, moving at a conversational pace toward the indicated ledge. "But I have never before instructed a weyrling that I had been romantically involved with. I have no intention of putting N'sir, or any of the weyrlings, in harm's way. If I feel as though…" a pause, a press of his lips as he considers what it is he meant to imply with that previous statement. "I simply meant that I would let you know if it became more than I felt I could handle. If I felt I was no longer being objective."
"That's fair," S'las says, casually, placing his hands in his pockets as he glances out at the brightening skies. "There's a ton of work that goes into this, we both know it. It's not as though you can redirect your attentions to other aspects should you need an opportunity to regroup, compose yourself. Say the word, and I'll give you desk work any time you need to get away from things. I'm not one to hold hostages, R'sner. If you absolutely feel as if you cannot continue, I'll release you."
"Thank you," and it is a heartfelt thanks, indeed, coming from the greenrider. Pessimistic though he may be, he does honestly state that, "It should be fine." And he believes it, too. Toith is poised on the ledge, having returned from a short jaunt down to visit those very weyrlings that had been the topic of discussion. It is her appearance, as well as the lightening of the sky that heralds the true start of the day, that has R'sner turning to thank S'las a final time before departing. "You will have your answer before the end of the day."
