Fort Weyr

Fort Weyr - Library Archives
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort. Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex. As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.

A wealth of information in here, but is Emiel finding what he wants of it with any kind of speed? No, apparently not. He's uncharacteristically alone for a mid-afternoon. To be hanging about in the main caverns with the baby, that would be normal, but also usually not exactly the sort of thing that screams approchability. On the other hand, at this point he's been poking around the stacks for at least half an hour, occasionally sighing heavily. Even when he does actually take a title down, it gets a few moments of flipping through, then immediately put back. If he stayed within the area of a single subject, it might be reasonable to think he's looking for something particular, but the selection so far has ranged from early history of the Weyr to something on some fairly recent Hold and Craft trade patterns.

Alexa is no stranger to lazy afternoons in the library, though perhaps 'lazy' is a bit misleading. Can one really be lazy if they speed-read? Perhaps it depends on the subject. While she has a stack of things that look vaguely 'work like' at her table (or at the very least, contain stacks of records and large volumes with ridiculously long titles faded away until squinting is required to read them) it is, instead, a novel that she's got her nose stuck into. And it must be engrossing, because she hasn't put it down for a while now. It's the sighing that does it. Each one, however far apart they might come, is met with a squint of her eyes over the edge of her book, green gaze cast around to find the perpetrator, only to result in a pinched expression and renewed reading. Until she's shoving a marker in her book and closing it with perhaps a *bit* more force than necessary, standing and declaring, "Can I help you find something?" in a voice that tries to sound helpful and… totally fails.

Emiel is not that tall, really. Not compared to an awful lot of people. But he is more than tall enough for it to look slightly out of place that he shrinks back from a woman considerably smaller than he is. "Sorry. I'm…" What are you doing, Emiel? "Sorry." Apologizing, apparently, voice still low. "Was only thinking of finding something to read to pass the time until dinner." Casual reading: definitely a good description of the books he was looking through. Or, no, exactly the opposite of that. "I'll try to be quieter. The floors in here are very noisy in these shoes." Very normal shoes, not even heavy-soled boots, but it doesn't seem to occur that anything else could be the problem.

Undoubtedly Alexa has had her fair share of unusual reactions to her presence — something about the shiny knot seems to make it so — but perhaps she's not quite accustomed to having people shrink back from her because it definitely has her taken aback. It might be comical, that moment between sassy-question and sudden uncertainty. Almost a 'wow, what? That worked?' coupled with 'oh crap, I did something' that has her stumbling for a worthy reply. "Yeah, well… Maybe don't wear shoes." Great. Good job. A++ on the comeback Alexa. Particularly when a comeback was not at all necessary. A moment later and there's a scrunched-up nose and a sigh and a look that's a bit contrite, and some paper shuffling that is wholly unnecessary. "Well… I… could help you find something?" She's… kinda trying? At least this time it sounds almost genuine rather than sarcastic. She does even better with the next, "What sort of stories do you enjoy?" that is actually curious in tone.

Look, Emiel even looks down at his feet, brow furrowed, as though the shoes coming off is an actual possibility; if she hadn't gone on, he might have actually gotten that far. Or at least just fled. Now, he's stuck glancing back at the shelves most recently perused. "I was, uh." A pause. "Trying to find something that seemed serious. Before dinner." A smile is managed, incredibly sheepish. "I don't ordinarily read… serious. Just something that might reflect better. Create some sort of impression that I am… a grown adult. My parents keep acting like I'm just a bored teenager."

There's a good chance Alexa would have stopped him before any shoes actually came off. That it does not come to that is probably for the best (she's terrible at apologies, and would have stumbled all over it and probably ruined it entirely). But books? Books she knows! "Hmm," comes as she rises from her table, squinty-eyes now set on a face that looks contemplative rather than snarky. "A serious book… So. Is this something you actually want to read, or just… waving around to show how super serious and grown up you are? Never mind." She dismisses the question with a literal handwave before waltzing around the table and heading for the stacks. "Let's see… The Impact of Dragons on a Post-Thread Economy is not exactly riveting, but probably fits the bill. Though I'll say that the author is somewhat ridiculous and does not adequately support his claims. So… maybe not. Uhm. There's the classic 'Genealogies of the Great Holds' which is kind of interesting when you start seeing just how closely they're related in the past." A peek at Emiel, perhaps to see if either suggestion has landed. "You could also… you know. Just read what you like to read and to Between with their opinion on it. Why do you need to prove you're an adult, anyway?"

The array of faces that Emiel is making for these suggestions do not convey exactly that he is enthusiastically interested in the offered reading material, even if they all fall short of outright disgust. "Well, they don't take me seriously enough in general. I used to read a lot more but it was mostly… lighter sorts of novels." Cagey, this description. Emiel finally wanders back over to glance at the shelves, like they're going to reveal something instantly more engaging. They don't. "But I got picked on by my cousins over those and I just… I want to be the sort of person who reads serious books. I'm not an idiot or anything." Like she was about to suggest this was possible.

It is entirely possible that Alexa was thinking exactly that. But she's at least nice enough not to voice it. It is less about those lighter novels Emiel enjoys, and more about the fact that, "Pretending to be someone you're not, isn't exactly a grown-up adult thing to do." Ask her how she knows. But she won't suggest any more 'super serious books', happy to shove the dusty Genealogies back into it's place and traipse after Emiel like solving his problem is her new occupation. "I prefer a good adventure story, myself," she admits. "And sometimes those fluffy romance books aren't too bad." But those are not Super Serious Adult Books and so, she won't pull any from the shelf. A bit of nose-scrunching, and she leans against a shelf and squints a once-over at Emiel. "I know you didn't ask for my opinion," but she's gonna give it anyway, "But I think you're way too focused on what they think. Just like… I dunno. Live your own life. Do your own thing! Read the books you want to read and be happy. You could even go and do something just for yourself, if you wanted." Apparently, she is now trying her hand at life coaching. Success yet to be determined.

A hard swallow for the notion of pretending not being a particularly adult activity, but Emiel doesn't argue the point, though he looks wistfully in the direction of the more accessible fiction for a moment. "I don't think I really have a thing. I just have… well, I have my niece." It seems to take him longer to summon up some other examples. "And a job I'm not terrible at. And a lot of people don't even have that, so I feel like I'm doing pretty good?" He looks back at Alexa, face worried like he's expecting some kind of yay or nay on this from her, too.

No one will ever accuse Alexa of having a poker face. The 'are you serious' look that lands on Emiel might be rude, but it doesn't seem to stop her. "Okaaaaay," she drawls, as if this is a particularly difficult equation to solve. Really, it's not. "Okay so… Niece. That's cool. I have kids. They're awesome. Adorable. I love them. I also love other things." She may not list those other things, but she has them. "A job you're not terrible at is good too but… do you like it?" Also, not waiting for an answer. Moving right along with, "Well even if you do, you can still do other things, too. Look. Uhm—" and here comes the part where Alexa realizes she has no idea who he is, because they never managed to do the introduction thing. Squint. Cough. Moving right along. "I have another idea." At least she doesn't claim that it's a better idea. "And maybe it's not your thing, but you could still do it for a little while at least. And who knows? Might help you find yourself. There's a clutch on the sands. And… maybe you could be a candidate? I mean, I know you could be, but do you want to be?" She might be terrible at this. She might know she's terrible at it, too. But that won't stop her. "I could make it happen."

"Emiel," is filled in at roughly the appropriate moment, when there's a useful pause. It's not like it needs to go the other way, right? One of them is Somebody, here. Emiel looks like he might shrink away from this particular suggestion, too, once it's made, but he manages to stay where he is and push his bangs back from his forehead instead. They fall pretty much back into place immediately. Practically in his eyes, untrimmed as the rest of his hair is. "It's what everybody wants to be when they grow up, isn't it?" Except that it does not sound like this is true of Emiel, which makes it more odd that the next thing he tacks on is, "I should. I know I should. I… might as well."

Maybe she's Somebody now, but maybe it's still weird that others know her name without meeting her. Either way, there's an answering, "I'm Alexa," followed with, "Well met, Emiel," that might be a little haphazardly thrown in among all the questions of books and life Things and candidate questions. "Not everyone," she shrugs. "Probably most, though. "And while she may not be the most perceptive around, even she can't miss that hesitation. "Wow. Super convincing. I can feel the enthusiasm." Sarcastic, but still. There's a pause and a frown and, after a thought, a more serious, "You don't have to do it. But, you know. Maybe it's something to do. And if it's not for you…" shrug. "No one says you have to stay a candidate." She's trying so hard to sell it, clearly. "But uhm. I do need a more… uh… let's call it 'confident' answer. Just so I'm not misunderstanding… are you saying yes?"

"Oh, no. No. I mean—no, the answer I mean to give is yes." Is that confusing yet? Emiel is trying, stumbling over it as he goes. Maybe that last bit is clear enough. "I don't think this is how I pictured it, is all. But I don't really know how I did picture it." The smile there, it's closer to a proper smile, if still nervous, but this warrants nervous! Nervous is totally normal! For once. "A change. It'll be a change. Right?"

"Oh." That takes Alexa aback, looking almost chastised for a moment. "I guess… you probably pictured it with a dragon and… maybe not me." But it's fine. She might have stumbled there herself for a moment, but she's gonna just shrug it off. Literally. With a shrug. But the smile she can do; returning that almost-proper-smile with something full and confident, if not overly empathetic. "That's the spirit! A change! And change is great!" She might be over selling it at this point. "Okay. So. Next step is getting whatever you need to situate… situated. And moving into the barracks. And… probably telling whoever you report to that you're a candidate now, so they can't work you as hard— or at all. You can tell them not to work you at all." A moment of thought and then another shrug. "The rest I think can be sorted out by the Headwoman or Weyrlingmaster. Uhm. Yup. And if you have any questions, just ask them!" Because apparently, she's not the one to answer them… "Oh, and maybe… pick out a book to take with you. One that you like." Final words of wisdom from the weyrwoman.

"You're fine. Great. It's really okay." Emiel has already made at least one transition, from being the one needing the reassuring to offering it. Maybe that one isn't as big a change. After that, a deep breath. "Sure. I can… I can do that. I can… oh, the baby. But we'll… we'll work something out." Nineteen is still young in a lot of ways, including planning before making big decisions, maybe. He's struggling, but his face doesn't fall completely. "I can get it sorted. Thank you. I won't take up more of your time." But Emiel will stop, on the way out, to snag a novel from among the romances, as long as it doesn't look like she's looking too closely.