Who Aignes, K'zre
What K'zre has a new Wing.
When Winter - Day 12 of Month 3 of Turn 2722
Where Haast Wing Lounge, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Haast Wing Lounge
As soon as one enters the Haast Lounge, the sight of the broad banner of Haast Wing draws the eye, a talon above Fort Weyr's crest, in striking black and browns. It hangs above an enormous hearth, which provides warmth and light, even in the coldest months, keeping the room cozy and adding a faint woodsy scent to the air. The walls are decorated with various tapestries and keepsakes from all across Pern, with a large, detailed map of the planet dominating one wall. Opposite it is a painted mural depicting Roc dragons, laden with cargo, flying in formation above a picturesque landscape. Another wall is taken up entirely by shelving, containing books, hides, and various trinkets. Behind a tapestry of the weyr bowl is a dumbwaiter with a bell that rings whenever a tray is delivered. A sturdy desk is tucked nearby in a corner, with a computer for those who chose to work, while various nooks with newly-installed electric bulbs provide steady light. There are glowbaskets as well, hanging from hooks on the ceiling, iluminating the rugs in Fort's colors that have been set out on the stone floor. The furniture in the room consists of comfortable chairs and couches, arranged in several small groupings, with low tables placed conveniently for drinks and plates of food.


That massive stack of paperwork on the desk certainly isn't getting any smaller, but after an undisclosed amount of time staring at reports, even Aignes needed a break. The weaver has wandered only as far to the closest bookshelf where she's pulled up a chair. Instead of sitting in it, she's apparently decided to climb and reach up to the top. She might not have any white gloves on, but she doesn't need the for her finger to come back with a trace of dust which gets a wrinkle of her nose. "Ugggghhhh… gross."

Ewwww, dust! K'zre would be just as horrified if (when?) he finds out. As it is, he's staring dubiously at the door and debating his options before mustering the courage to actually go /through/ it. Maybe because it's technically not "his" Wing lounge. Yet. But with a steadying breath and a determined set to his jaw, he strides on in. And promptly stops again, to stare at Aignes. "What… what are you doing?"

The other greenrider's question is met with a happy chirp of greeting from the tiny green firelizard trying to act as a paperweight. So Pin might not make the best doorbell, but Aignes doesn't fall off the chair as she quickly turns around and hides the dusty finger behind her back. "I'm uhhh…" she didn't really have a ready answer for that but before she can actually come up with an excuse, her brows furrow together. "What are you doing?" There's a quick glance around, but she doesn't spot any medical emergencies at the moment.

She might not be the best doorbell, but she's probably the cutest paperweight ever! Even if K'zre doesn't seem to appreciate that cuteness, busy as he is with eyeing Aignes like she might become a medical emergency. Heading for the chair, he slants a confused and slightly disapproving look up at the Haast wingsecond. "I came to talk to you, actually," he explains. "But you really should get down before you fall and break something."

"I'm not going to break something," Aignes is contrary as always, but regardless she does slowly and carefully get down from the chair. And as K'zre is there… she may also use his shoulder to do so if he doesn't recoil away. Once down, she tilt her head up at K'zre. "I'm guessing it's not because you need a weaver?"

K'zre will oblige in being a balancing point, and even reach out to make sure that chair stays nice and steady while Aignes climbs down from it. "You don't know that," he argues. "What if you lost your balance and toppled over backwards? You could easily break your wrist or your neck." But now she's on the ground again, so all is well. "No," he agrees, though he takes another moment to consider. "No, I don't need a weaver at this time. Though it wouldn't hurt to get a few things made…" But he stops before he gets sidetracked. "Actually… It's about reassignment. My reassignment."

The chair doesn't topple and neither does Aignes and so she just waves off the probably reasonable objections to chairs being used as ladders. "It was only like three feet high and anyways, I didn't. And if I had, looks like I would have conveniently had a healer right there." She shrugs. No harm, no foul. But as K'zre goes on, her eyes widen a bit at the mention of getting a few things made. "Ohh?" and then as he gets to his actual point an even larger "Ooooh? Finally coming to Haast?" It's not a crazy guess there considering the current location and parties.

If left to his own devices, Kez might just spend the afternoon debating the probability and danger factor around using chairs as ladders, even if they're only three feet tall. Thankfully, he's got other things to do and so lets it go. "Yes, although I don't know if 'finally' is an appropriate descriptor," he muses. "That would imply that moving into Haast was an inevitable eventuality which… while I am moving into Haast, I don't believe it was inevitable." Annnnnyways. "Yes. I'm moving to Haast and returning to Healing."

While the actual words 'I called it!' won't pass Aignes' lips, the smug smile on her face is a pretty much close second. "You spent how many years training as a healer? That's something pretty hard to completely give up." So while he might argue about the inevitablity… she can argue right back. "But we're always glad to have another healer. Did D'had give you a transition timeline? Is there a transition time? You have talked with your wingleader, right?" And now come all the questions!

"I never gave it up entirely," huffs K'zre, frowning. "I did healing as a Thunderbird wingrider." But it is not the same, and he won't pretend that it was. Still. There's a petulant little frown suspiciously like a pout, for Aignes's apparent glee over his transition. Hmph. "Yes, I informed him," he assures. "I set him a letter." Like a resignation letter? Sure. We'll go with that. "He knows. And… I don't know? I thought… well. It would just… happen. I finished out my Sweeps for the sevenday. And F'inn is aware," which, of course he is, but he's also Weyrsecond. "So it should be fine." Should be.

At least Aignes is gleeful and not all 'eww, no. Go back' although turning away perfectly good wingriders and healers would probably not keep her in a wingsecond seat for long. She blinks at the mention of a letter but since apparently both wingleader and Weyrsecond know, she shakes off any confusion about letters. "Well, it should be easy enough to fit you into the healer's roster. When was your last rest day?" Even as she keeps the questions coming, she's heading back to her desk and searching under the reports until she finds where that pen was buried.

It was a very formal letter to. D'had will undoubtedly be both confused and impressed. "Rest day?" That's probably a 'never', but K'zre gives it a moment of thought and decides, "About five days ago. But I'm fine," he assures. "Fit me in where I am needed." Sleep is for the weak! Following Aignes, he considers the stack of paperwork curiously (along with the adorable Pin) and waits patiently for the production of a pen. "I probably will need to order some things from you," he allows. "All of my old scrubs are from before I Impressed."

Aignes finds her pen which was apparently under Pin's tail. The firelizard lets out a little sigh as she lets her 'treasure' go and Aignes promptly ignores K'zre's assurance that he's fine as she jots down a quick schedule for the next seven that has not one but TWO rest days starting this very afternoon and she passes the sheet over to him. "You may be fine, but you do need to make some arrangements. Like finding some new scrubs. There may be some in an infirmary closet or the stores, but you'll probably want to get a fitting for some new ones anyways." Because really, who knows what sort of fluids have been on old scrubs?

K'zre accepts the paper and, while he might frown a bit, he won't question the schedule. "Yes," he agrees. "I suppose I do." Because even if they've been laundered, those old scrubs are likely moth eaten and musty, if they haven't been stolen for firelizard nests. "I'll look in the stores to see what I can find in the meanwhile." Even if they're mismatched or printed with flowers, K'zre will totes rock them. "They seem a simple design, I'd assume they're fairly easy to make?" That is, in fact, a question since K'zre has never endeavored to make anything other than a candidate robe (which was /beautiful/ but still. Mostly a sack with head and arm holes).

Just wait until at some point when Aignes realizes he hasn't taken a proper vacation in far too long and she schedules one for his 'mental health' despite not following the same schedule recommendations herself. It's bound to happen. She does nod for the simplicity. "They are, but if we're going to be making new ones for you, we might as well make ones for you. And not just ones that might be in your approximate size, right?" Or else she can probably find some tuber sacks hiding somewhere and a rope for a belt.

Horror! Not a vacation?! K'zre will deal with it when it comes, no doubt convinced to /take/ it by his fun-loving weyrmate (who could do with a vacation himself). For now, he'll suffer the indignity of two proper rest days and try not to sneak into the infirmary regardless. "Well, yes," he agrees, folding the schedule and tucking it into a pocket. "I simply meant that it shouldn't take to long to make. Right? Even with proper measurements." Not trying to rush or anything… but maybe he's trying to rush. "When should I do that? The measuring," he adds.

"Right. and it'll probably be an apprentice making them," Aignes will agree. And sorry not sorry, but those apprentices need some learning projects. At least they'll probably be some normal color like navy blue or dark green. The darker the better to hide possible stains, right? "You could get the measurements today. It won't take long, but otherwise no work…" She eyes K'zre as if trying to judge just how likely he might be to just head into the infirmary for 'just a little work' anyways.

"If we can," allows K'zre. "I would like to do that." Get the measurements. Does that count as work? Maybe. But while he might frown a bit, looking somewhat put out for it, he'll agree with a begrudging sigh. "No work," he repeats. At least, no infirmary work. Other work? No promises.

Even as the riders speak, Czarduinath's ribbons are reaching out to her sister, spinning images of a particular valley near Ruatha that might have the snow beginning to melt and is known for some wild runners and their foals to come running through with their adorably oversized legs. « Wonder how many of the babies they've had this turn? » Aignes will not let on if she had any part in that particular cruel trick to try and ensure no infirmary work, even as she nods. "You can just go on down to the weaver's workroom. I don't think they're too busy today. And then, try to relax!"

It's a trick that definitely works. Yasminath's glee is a nearly palpable, a squeal that zings through both Czarduinath's mind and K'zre's, and which has the greenrider wincing a bit. « THEY ARE SO CUUUUUUUUUUUTE!!!!! WE HAFTA GO NOW!! » A dirt look is shot towards Aignes, which says K'zre strongly suspects she had something to do with that. "Right," he decides, resisting the urge to glower (and kinda failing). "I'll do that now." He's halfway turned and taking a step forward before he seems to remember some of his manners again. "Ah… Thank you," he adds quickly. "Ma'am."

If it works, it works! Aignes might even get an echo of that squeal through Czarduinath, but she keeps up the not-so-innocent smile as she turns to the report on the top of the paperwork mountain. "Enjoy. And welcome to the wing, K'zre."


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