~~*~~ 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.
People: Casiella Galina
Obvious Exits:
Out <O>

The rain outside is just enough to keep Vidyazath from claiming the skies for a leisurely flight, which likewise means Galina's ground-bound for the duration. The diminutive young woman has claimed a far corner of the library that seems to be 'hers' — otherwise unoccupied, the two other chairs in that little nook are claimed by an odd rainbow of beasts. Which is to say, two bronzes, a blue, and a green have claimed one chair while a lone brown has claimed the other and is glaring most balefully at the other four. Galina, in her overstuffed chair, is paying no heed to any of them, with a stack of books in front of her, a notebook in her lap, and another book opened on the stack. At her left is a small plate of something or another; at her right, a mug of something that's long-since stopped steaming.

Casiella has become bolder and bolder in her deeper exploration of Fort Weyr - this room had caught minimal attention earlier, enough to warrant a return visit for a closer look. Silently, almost in awe, Casi wanders the impressive halls created by towering shelves, delving deeper and deeper. She'll pause a moment here, a moment there, trailing a finger down the spine of one book before moving on to another, almost lost at where to start. As she impinges on Galina's little corner of sanity, she pauses for a moment longer - her last run-in with the odd young Weyrwoman obviously fresh in her mind, loathe to disturb the other woman's peacefulness.

Peaceful is a good word for it, though her expression is as unreadable as ever. Nor does Casiella have the option of going unnoticed for long; the brown's head snaps up and twists to stare pointedly at the other goldrider, his wings mantling slightly and his back starting to rise. He hisses, though this seems to be a common enough event that it just takes a sharply uttered, "Redwort, cease," for the beast to calm some. A page is flipped. Notes are made. And, at long last, the younger woman looks up and tilts her head to properly regard Casiella askance. Studying her, much like before, but with a gaze that's devoid of any hint of just what might be passing through that alien head of hers.

Casiella glances sideways at the brown, one eyebrow canting up a touch, before she turns her head to regard the Weyrwoman again. There's another pause as the two women regard each other, Casi turning each thought over slowly in her mind. "Galina. How is Vidyazath today?" Yes, Casi caught that Galina isn't too fond of her formal title. It's not too off, considering the twitchy look Casi gets when somebody refers to her as any form of "weyrwoman".

"Do not pay him any heed," is intoned as an explanation of the brown, though he remains all kinds of rankled and glaring. His tail thrashes, which only earns a lingering look from the ruddy bronze on the other chair. A warning look is given to both, wordless but no doubt accompanied by some mental command — or some pressure from the unseen gold — that suffices to calm them. "She is well enough," is Galina's ensuing answer, though her attention has already begun to drift down to her work again. No hidework today; it looks like … medical journals or other documentation.

Not much help from Galina, but Casi's come expecting that, to some degree. She drifts a little closer, still warily aware of the woman's personal space, and well in a range that beating a hasty retreat can be done with some tact and diplomacy. "I'm glad to hear that, and I'm grateful she seems to be taking to Calanth so readily." Pause. "Calanth likes her, you know. Says she's interesting to talk to." She flicks another glance at the brown, and his irritation elicits an upturn at the corners of her mouth. Not a real smile, just a bit of one. "He's fine. I'm an intruder, after all. He's just defending his space." Or maybe he's just cranky all the time. Casi can glare with the best of them, though, and the brown does get a moment of annoyed Look. After a moment, though, her attention drifts back to Galina, and her face sets, a little stubbornly. She doesn't want to irritate Galina, after all, maybe just try to get to know her a little better. "Those scones were excellent, by the way." Oh, yeah. Those. "I only got but a bite. Kythorn… That is, my other charge, stole the rest of mine. The boys asked me to give you their thanks."

The younger woman continues her note-taking, her silence lingering all the while that the other woman speaks. Perhaps there's just naught to be said; perhaps she's just that kind of patient. In either case, she remains quiet even after Casiella's done, her head remaining bent as she finishes putting something down in her thin, spidery script. To say she's methodical is an understatement. While she's seemingly oblivious to any glaring at Redwort, the brown is not … and he gapes his fang-filled maw at Casiella in a direct challenge, though he doesn't hiss at her. His wings flare, though, and that ruddy bronze snaps at him. "Vidyazath keeps unusual company," is a statement of fact, without any sense of implication. Her notebook is flipped to the next page. Bits of conversation are taken and considered, with her responding, if belatedly, to the last with a mild, "I see. I can make more, if you would like. This is suitable weather to enjoy them." And, as it turns out, that just /might/ be what she has on that plate next to her, albeit broken up.

Okay, so Casi might have been provoking the brown, but she turns to look at Galina again, almost sharply, as she puzzles out whether or not that might have been a compliment or insult. Still puzzling, she digests Galina's next statement, and it takes a few minutes before everything percolates quite right though Casi's brain. "You made those?" Blinkblink. "Oh. Wow. I didn't realize." She pauses again, back pedaling a bit. "I mean, I learned to cook in self-defense quite some time ago. But I can't make anything that…" Delicate? Tasty? Complicated? "Complicated. Mostly just grilled fish and wherry and vegetables. Where did you learn to cook like that?" And here, she glances at the medical books, and an eyebrow cants. "What…" Nosiness. "Er. If you don't mind me asking, what did you do before you Impressed?"

Her hand stops in mid-stroke, lips pressing firmly together for a moment. Unseen, her eyes haze over, only to clear within the next blink. "Disperse," is a familiar command to her fair and, while Redwort is reluctant, he joins the others as they blip *between*. One chair is indicated with a sweep of her hand, a wordless bid for the other to sit. And then it's back to writing while she listens, apparently indifferent to that puzzling, to the backpedaling, to all of it. "Ogren Hold is where I learned to bake," is finally issued, though the answer, as all of them do, comes only after a few seconds after it should have been given. "Agnessa felt it necessary to teach me; I felt inclined to learn." To the latter, however, there's only a faint twinge of wry humor as she notes, "Whether I do or do not mind, you have asked." Pause. "I am a Healer. A surgeon."

Casiella watches the fair disperse on command, and she's so startled by the unexpected invitation - or command - that she's obeying before she even realizes she'd started. As Galina drops each piece of information, Casiella can't quite seem to believe she hasn't been dismissed by the younger woman for her impertinence. She does pause to scan her mind for Ogren Hold, remembering just the faintest glimmer, and she nods. As some vestige of humor is relayed, Casi ducks her head apologetically, then tilts her head to regard the woman a long moment. "The people kind, I'm supposing." She pauses a moment, shifting to get comfortable, her legs canted beneath her in a manner that suggests she's used to tucking them underneath her when she sits in a big comfy chair like this, though her booted feet remain firmly on the floor. No point in soiling the upholstry. "I imagine your Seniorship has cut into the time you spend plying your craft," she muses, after a long pause. "Were you surprised when Vidyazath rose and made you a Leader?" It's a matter-of-fact question, asked with curiosity, not the intent to pry for gossip. "Cal and I… Never got to be in that position. There were several other Juniors in line before us, more senior Juniors who would have been more acceptable to the Weyr. Not that it matters, as Niva still holds her position." There's a bit of a nose rankle, there - not particularly for Galina's benefit, more of an unintentional reaction.

Yet, for her manner, there's no imperiousness; matter-of-fact and straightforward seems to be more her cup of tea. Of course, now that Casiella's closer, she might pick up on the scent of the tea in question — citrus-y and warm, with notes of clove and black tea. With a few more notes being jotted down, Galina answers with a flat, "Yes." Her notebook is soon closed after the ink dries and is set atop the topmost book after that, too, is closed. The pen is stacked atop the educational edifice and the young woman straightens, knees together and hands primly folded in her lap. A slow blink is give, her expression shifting just slightly to allow her mouth to pull to one side. "No more than candidacy or weyrlinghood," is intoned. "Regardless, the nature of Impression has impeded my education more fully than anything else. The color of her hide merely adds insult to injury." Matter-of-fact. Such an admission is then followed by her answer to the next question, which is reduced to a dull, "No." Surprise? Not the word she might attach to it, but no elaboration is given. The rest is simply heard and acknowledged, if only just barely with a tilt of her head.

Casiella glances aside, watching the very structured manner in which Galina organizes her books, and then sits. As Galina gets to the part about Vidyazath's color, Casi lets out a sharp bark of laughter which is quickly stiffled. "My apologies, Galina. You and Calanth would have been perfect for each other." Casi pauses, rolling her eyes as her focus drifts out, then back. "That is, I was quite focused on the color of her hide, and she was not. There were times during her Weyrlinghood she felt out of place because she was quite a bit bigger than her siblings, and not at all the same color as her green sisters." She pauses, tilting her head again, and watching Galina thoughtfully. "You, at least, have a focus - something to keep your days full outside of your duties to Vidyazath and the Weyr. I …" She pauses, looking thoughtful and troubled for a moment. She lets the thought rest a moment, though, tilting her head the other way. "I suppose you were the only young Junior, so it might not have been as much of a surprise as it would have been in a Weyr filled with gold riders." It's not at all intended as a slight, merely an observation.

"Vidyazath's lament was that all eyes were on her during the hatching. It troubles her, as much as myself, that the color of her hide prevented either of us from being in Simurgh." There's a pause, her mouth pressing flat, but nothing further is issued. Instead, Galina continues with, "It was a matter of odds. Kessa's need to step down was unexpected; Vidyazath's ambition was not." This is uttered with a slight rise-fall of narrow shoulders, though her posture remains more or less as rigid as ever. But she doesn't seem inclined to address the rest, leaving the notion of her having a focus to the wayside for now. Instead, she deigns to reach for her mug, clasping it in both hands and lifting it for a calculated sip.

Casiella pauses to reflect a moment on which wing Simurgh is, then realizes it, and nods. "I can imagine the crafting wing is where you'd prefer to be, with your Healing and all. Alas, a gold's responsibilites leave little time for active crafting." She's sympathetic to Galina's plight, but she sounds slightly… Longing? Perhaps it's the work she misses. She pauses a moment more, then shrugs. "I never really had a… Focus. Gold riding worked perfectly for me. It gave me a focus, it gave me something to do." She looks thoughtful for a long moment more. "I did spend some time with Aivas - I suppose you could say I took up researching as a hobby, for a while. Mostly to help me understand Calanth's nattering about cloud density and the whys and wherefores of wind movement." She glances aside at Galina, thoughtful again. "Calanth never had that … Ambition, I suppose. She never understood why I did, why I challenged Niva. At the time, I thought I was right. Over time, I saw *she* was." She gives a half-shrug, tucking herself further down into the chair, and not quite elaborating on who "she" might be. Perhaps the dragon, perhaps the Xanadu Senior. "Moving here to Fort then was the best thing we could have done. Elara and X'an… They were certainly something. I learned, and without fighting against Niva, I guess you could say I matured, some."

"Ideally, I would be filling the role of my former mentor." But that's left aside for the time being, with Galina taking another lingering sip of tea while Casiella continues to speak. She's silent for a long moment afterward, the cup being lowered to rest slightly in her lap, cushioned by both of her long-fingered hands. Her eyes, pale and strange as they are, are lifted in an effort to catch and hold the other goldrider's gaze. Everything seems to have been pulled apart, analyzed, digested, and documented — only to be reduced to two things: one observation and one question. "You have been to Fort Weyr with some regularity." Pause. "What is your intention?"

Casiella pauses, returning Galina's gaze evenly. Her green eyes are quiet, clouded. Almost troubled. She's hinted, interacted with the people, and explored. Her gaze goes distant for a moment, and then she sits a little straighter, looking resolute. "We… That is, Calanth and I. We would like to … Transfer here. To Fort Weyr." Obviously, but Casi looks suddenly nervous, each word measured and considered before it is uttered. "We understand that it is unusual for a Weyr to take a gold that might be…" She swallows, and breaks her gaze with Galina for a moment, "infertile, and who has not been in a Weyr for some time. But," and here, she looks up again. "We would like to be in a Weyr again. We have been in self-exile too long. We miss the Weyrlife. We miss the people." She pauses, letting it be for a moment, and dropping her gaze again to dust something imaginary off her pants.

"Of course." But whether for Casiella's words or something passed from Vidyazath, it's hard to tell — the girl's eyes cloud over for a beat or two just prior, clearing again as she blinks. The cup is emptied with a final drink, only to be set aside. Galina's hands fold again, residing in her lap as if they had never left. "We will give it consideration. Vidyazath keeps unusual company, as I said before; in this, I am no different." Wry, if faintly so. "However, we will be observing for now. Fort Weyr's history with Xanadu, as a whole, is unpleasant — your acceptance may not be received well." A moment passes and then she pushes to her feet, signaling the end of the impromptu meeting — or, more likely, at some urging of her lifemate.

Casiella swallows again, blinking at Galina owlishly for a long moment. She accepts Galina's statement with a nod, then a short noise that sounds almost like a scoff. "I cannot imagine Niva would still care, after all these Turns. She is not, really, the reason we left Xanadu. Though she is, truthfully, the reason we are unwilling to return. Kilaueth has not even contacted us since our return to the rest of Pern. Our presence here is unlikely to be noticed. If it would make a difference, we would happily contact Niva to explain our situation." But she bows her head respectfully to the younger woman. "Our offer stands. If you've any need of us, you will find us willing and able servants." Desperate, a bit? But Casi doesn't restrain the woman, understanding Galina's dismissal. She, however, remains seated, chin perched on her hand thoughtfully. "Clear skies," is murmured in parting, and the distance in her eyes reveals the private conversation between woman and gold.

[DTU/Project] Vidyazath senses that Calanth's mental colors are muted, respectful. « Mine appreciates the generosity of yours. I hope to keep company with you more often. »

While Galina gathers up the dishes, the blue firelizard before manifests just overhead. He drops neatly, gathering up the pen and notebook with a deftness that has clearly been well-trained. The rest of the books are left to remain — as they likely have for some days now, all things considered. "That will be unnecessary," is stated, with the younger woman slanting a look askance to Casiella. But, beyond that, there's naught to be said save for what might be a customary, "Be well," as she finally makes her ghost-quiet way from the corner and out to the hall. The blueling follows quickly, chirping around his mouthful of pen, trailing like a curious little shadow in and of itself. A few seconds later and both are out of sight if not out of mind.

[DTU/Project] Calanth senses that Vidyazath is distant, fog rolling across a salt-rimed shore. « Generosity isn't the word for it, » she notes, the fog roiling just a touch. « Fair- Fair is a better word. She would give the same consideration to any other rider that came to Fort Weyr in search of sanctuary. » The rest is simply touched on with a musing, « Well, it's not like I'm /that/ hard to find. Especially when it's raining. »

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.