Fort Weyr

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.

Rarely has Aignes ever been tentative as she steps foot into the Wing Lounge, but there is an exception to everything. The wingsecond hasn't been completely out of the loop of things for the past few sevens (don't tell F'inn about the paperwork she may have smuggled to work on), but the time to get back to work is rapidly approaching. The overachieving weaver may be a few days early as she sneaks into the empty lounge this evening, a sleeping bundle of infant in tow. After there's no surprises with the first few steps, her posture becomes a bit more confident as she flips through the documents on the desk with her free hand. "If I were H'lanin, where would I have put that…"

K'zre is not H'lanin, but he's definitely here. Stretched out on the couch, belly down with boots over the opposite arm in an uncharacteristically childish pose, he's peering over his own set of documents with squinty eyes and pursed lips. Apparently, they do not live up to his standards. The arrival of his very unexpected Wingsecond gets a jolt and a frown, squinty-eyes peering at Aignes over the back of the couch and watching with obvious judgement as she flips through documents. "I thought you weren't back yet." This is how K'zre greets people. Who needs a 'Hi. How're you?' when you can just cut right to the chase.

"I'm not," Aignes flippantly responds (contrary to whatever Kez's eyes might tell him) as she continues rummaging through that desk, a task made infinity harder by the sleeping possible time-bomb in her other arm. For right now however, Finnigan's only contribution is to turn his head and let out an itty bitty baby yawn. "Have you seen the full month's duty roster yet? Looks like only this seven's had been posted?" Is she judging their wingleader's record keeping? Every second of every day when she was out. That burning desire to manage everything can only be held back for so long.

"But you're here…" That definitely gets a frown. A quizzical sort that says 'but I can see you' and tries to figure out what she means by this madness. Giving it up, he pushes his papers aside and stands, stretches, and heads to the desk to peer over her shoulder and provide absolutely no assistance in finding the duty roster. "No," he adds, unhelpfully. "Should I have?" He's not terribly concerned. At least, not about the roster, or the schedule, or anything to do with the administration of the wing — Wingleader's shady recordkeeping or not. But he will side-eye the baby with a touch of concern. "Let me hold him?" At least he does pose it as a question, and not a demand. "So you can use both hands." And so Kez can cuddle the baby!

Aignes might still have most her attention on the desk in front of her, but that doesn't mean she won't temporarily raise her eyes enough to give K'zre a LOOK (tm). She means what she says about not being back while still being here. And asking work related questions on top of it. Once glaring is finished, she does try to re-order the papers back the way she found them. Definitely difficult with one hand, but the desk wasn't really tidy to begin with. There's a sigh for the question. "I mean… yes? Wouldn't you like more than three days notice if you were going to be scheduled to go study are Healer Hall instead of work a normal shift in the infirmary?" Planning is important, people. Even as she speaks, one of the papers goes fluttering off the desk to near her foot. With a bit of reluctance she carefully moves the sleeping baby's head from her should, ready to deposit in the healer's arm. "Be careful not to wake him." Like he needs that warning after all the times he's held Finnigan already.

K'zre considers this with a tip of his head, eyes slanting toward the pile of papers on the desk. "Am I being sent to Healer Hall to study?" Asking the important questions. "If I am, I need to tell F'inn. He'll want to know." But K'zre himself is not terribly concerned. And has apparently missed the point of that hypothetical (?) explanation. But he's quick to step in, cradling Finnigan against his chest with now-practiced motions, a flicker of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth as he looks down at the sleeping baby. "I won't." Wake him. Even his voice has gone all hushed and quiet, lest it rouse the beast. "He's so peaceful when he sleeps." And isn't bawling his head off for something.

"Not yet, but you could be. And that's why you would need to see the schedule in advance." On a normal day, perhaps Aignes would be raising her voice but considering the situation of sleeping baby she's sticking to a very forceful whisper. Arms now baby-free, she swoops down to pick up that run-away sheet and place it back with the other reports and just because she can't help herself, she picks up the pile and taps the edges so they're all smooth. Someone's definitely going to notice his desk was messed with, but at least it's for the better at least as far as organization goes. She really can't keep up the argument though when K'zre brings the conversation around to Finnigan and a smile crawls onto her face. "He does. He's probably exhausted. He was pretty fussy last night."

"But if I'm not… then it doesn't matter if I've seen it. I'll just be in the infirmary." K'zre has completely failed to see the point of Aignes's argument. He's not trying to be contrary. At least, he's not doing it to try and get a rise out of her. But clearly, the clarification and the point of her explanation has flown right over his head. And it's not landing anytime soon. At least he's got a really cute baby to distract him from it. He falls into that 'sleeping-baby-swing' motion without even thinking about it, rocking the snoozing Finnigan gently as Aignes goes about destroying the Wingleader's desk with organization. (Kez totes approves of this, by the way). "Fussy?" he echoes, glancing up with a flicker of concern. "He's not sick, is he? You could have brought him to the Infirmary. Or called me. I can come down at any moment…" No promise on his state of dress.

Aignes raises an eyebrow at K'zre and the point sailing right over his head. She can see it, even if he's completely blind and she just shakes her head a little in disappointment. There's more desk to be organized after all. That still half filled and very much abandoned klah mug is moved from desk over to a side-table closer to the hearth. Not perfect, but at least its liquidy contents are further away from any of the precious papers. On her way back towards the table, she will stop to get a little kiss to the back of Finnigan's head, careful to time it around that baby-sway the healer has going on. "He settled down, eventually. Or whenever I held him. And here I thought I was getting lucky with him almost sleeping through the night. You know I won't hesitate to call, right?" There has to have certainly been a few very panicked late night weyr-calls from the first-time mom already.

K'zre might have more concerns over there still being Klah in that abandoned mug, than he does about its proximity to paperwork. He eyes it on it's table, and chances are good he'll snag it on the way out, just to make sure no one accidentally drinks it. But right now, baby Fig takes priority, and he's going to steal all the cuddles he can while Aignes is busy doing Aignes-things. He'll at least slow down to allow baby-head-kisses. "Hmm," comes with only a little trepidation, though Kez will allow that sometimes all babies want are snuggles. "I know," he agrees after giving it a moment of actual thought. "But it bares repeating. I would come," and he has come, "at a moment's notice. And not just because he's… well. I just mean that… I would come if you asked me. Because you asked me." Because she's his friend. "I was reading," he adds, though he does keep his voice low, in deference to the sleeping child. "And he should start sleeping through the night in another month or two." Right?

"Because he's F'inn's son?" Aignes will fill in those blanks that the healer leaves. "And so your son too, in a way?" She'll at least focus on staring at the adorable little sleeping baby cheeks before straightening up again and clearing her throat. "Unless…" Unless he doesn't want a claim on little Fig, but she won't state that thought, instead nodding with the mention of reading. "Yes. Hopefully." Her own books may have been a bit more pessimistic including some example of babies that didn't sleep through the night for several more months.

"I just meant that… I would come even if it wasn't related to Finnigan." It took a moment, but K'zre's finally found the words to say what he's trying to say. Sort of. As for laying claim to little Fig there? The pause in sway might not be noticeable; just a little hitch in the rhythm before Kez is back at it with practiced ease. But Aignes's unstated thought will also go unanswered, dark eyes lingering on the baby for a moment or two longer. Probably because K'zre is not as good at filling in the blanks on unspoken sentences. "We could watch him, you know," he offers, peeking up from chubby cheeks to watch the other greenrider. "Through the night. So you could sleep…" A pause, and he wonders, "Does he still wake to eat, or just…" Because there are a lot of things Kez and F'inn can do, but breastfeeding a baby is definitely not one of them.

"Oh… uhhh… thank you?" Aignes turns attention the the hem of her shirt. It'd be a lot better of a distraction if it were actually frayed but no, it's as pristine as one would expect from the weaver. Her eyes narrow a little bit at the offer as she glances between K'zre and the baby, her own cheeks reddening just a little bit. "He uhhh… does. To eat still." Unless they have a wet nurse stashed away somewhere, some duties are still on Aignes even as she does her best to avoid the word breastfeeding. "But that doesn't mean you can't come help put him to bed? That way when he can sleep through the night, you're used to whatever routine? And he's used to you?"

K'zre is oblivious. And not just because Finnigan has the cutest chubby cheeks in the whole wide world. But perhaps it is for the best. Aignes can pick at non-existent strings while Kez coos over Finnigan while pretending he's not actually cooing (He totally is, though). A little nod of his head. A quiet 'ah' that is more expression than sound, for the feeding habits of the baby. But for the offer he stops, no longer swaying as he holds Finnigan against him, a fleeting smile just touching his lips. "That would be… yeah," he agrees. "I know F'inn would like that. It would be good. Then, he will get used to it, too." Fig. He means Fig this time. "So it won't be so weird, when he does sleep at our place."

"Tomorrow night then?" Aignes will just seize on that opportunity, while giving just a little bit of advance notice. All the cooing in the world can't help when nature calls though and poor Finnigan rouses up with a confused little wail. The very familiar odor that wafts up from his diaper should probably be clue enough. "I can get that. And we'll see you tomorrow." It's been scheduled, whether he actually agreed to it or not. And once the baby is handed over, she'll whisk off to take care of that diaper change. Peril of leaving her weyr without a diaper bag.