[Video; UN: lessaofpern] | Rallying the wings

[queenofsalt]

[Lessa has set her jaw as she looks into the projection of the network, grey eyes sparkling with unaffected warmth as she considers this strangely intuitive communication system. How like speaking to dragons it feels, and how strange.]

Good morning. I hope all of that merry-making last night didn't leave any of you completely indisposed, as I believe that we have a lot of work to tackle in the coming days.

I am Lessa of Pern. I am the senior Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr, Ruathan by blood, and rider to Golden Ramoth. Though it means little to those not from Pern, I can assure you that I have earned every last of those titles, and though I acknowledge that this team is a company of equals, I think we can all admit that if we want to find ourselves home sooner, we could stand to delegate and specialize to our strengths... not all of us want to retire to sandy beaches we know will decay into abandon!

I'd like to speak with those of you who are versed in ALASTAIR's values and practices, and those of you who have spoken with the Nalawi at length and have learned anything more than what we have been given prior to our arrival. Locations, traditions, values, any records that can be used to track the progress of this island's troubles... it could all be valuable.

[She affects to toss a lock of fine black hair from her face, thinking herself particularly clever for re-enacting the kind of proud-chested talk that her weyrmate has employed in the past.]

Please join me for a mug and a plate in the lower room of the inn. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person so that we can consider our options going forward together.

[Before she shuts her communication down, the proud, slight smile brightens suddenly with a kind of abandoned amusement, like she's come out of a spotlight on a stage... and that's because she has. Lessa has never been in a position where she could stand up and take singular charge before, and the thought that she might be able to now is a heady feeling. Watch her sit rigidly in the tavern of the Inn from the time the broadcast is over until the moment someone approaches; she's going to be on the edge of her seat expecting the outpouring of earnest team-members coming forward to hand her clues to go gallivanting off on.]

Comments

happybirthday @ text

[adoube]

'Golden Ramoth'............... is that a s h i p ?




[ ..........this is the most important thing. ]

(And voice from Lessa; she's not a text gal!)

[queenofsalt]

She's a dragon and a queen of dragons at that. Think golden wings, teeth, and opaline eyes as big as your head, and you'll have a tenth of her majesty.

[adoube]

'Dragon'...

Is the 'dragon' with you?

video, @konyx

[onblackwings]

What do your titles mean?

Excuse u

[queenofsalt]

[If that is not an attitudinous way to ask a question, Lessa doesn't know what is. She can feel the good old familiar seething coming on, but by now she's learned to put a cap on it... so Khisanth gets a politic smile.]

If I had a Harper to sing about the details you'd get a much better picture, but I shall have to try. Pern is a planet, under the Red Star; it is my home, and the place that I will return to eventually. Benden Weyr is a dragonhome dug into the sides of a dormant volcano, one of the last until just recently.

[She can't hide the sharp triumph she's feeling at that. It was her time-hopping milkshake that brought all the Weyrs to the yard after all! Her tone continues fiercely proud, now.]

Though I am the last of the line of Ruatha, I gave up my claim to that Hold, or fortress as most of you seem to call it, for a chance to bond Golden Ramoth, the queen of Benden Weyr.

[Khisanth, meet Ramoth. The focus of the network swings over to a peculiar looking golden dragon. No frills on this one; she's a sleek creature covered in hide instead of scales, with faceted, alien eyes and fierce eye-ridges, two prongs shorter than proper horns jutting back from behind her head. Currently, her eyes are swirling with greens and blues, unperturbed by the sudden screen-time. She blinks once into the device and then snuffs with minor indignation before turning to look in the other direction.]

video | un: sinclair

[anteil]

| Well, good morning to you, too. Gibberish titles aside, none of that sounded foreign to Helga. In fact, a lot of it reminds her of her time on Rourke's team. A company of equals, they were not exactly, though Rourke made a point of making her especially feel like it...

It had ended with her would-be-death, if ALASTAIR had not chosen to pick her up at exactly the right moment. So she's not sold. Gibberish isn't selling this to her, either. And there's another thing... |

How much experience do you have with missions like this?

| Straight to the point. She doesn't want to waste her own time, and she doesn't intend to waste anybody else's. |

[queenofsalt]

[If that question had come from, say, an overenthusiastic skeleton or even a curious and naive fire elemental, Lessa might have been more welcome to answer it in a straight-foward way. Coming from Helga, however, and across the network as opposed to face-to-face, Lessa is far less keen on being frank.

It doesn't help that on first impression, this blonde bombshell with a sneer in her voice bears a light resemblance to a person Lessa had thought of for years as something like That Other Woman.

But it's never been in her nature to sneer right back. Rather, fumes already stoking with sudden abandon, Lessa leans back carefully in her small seat and clasps her hands in her lap. She favours Helga with a business-like nod.]

I discovered the ability to travel between times and led a foray across centuries to save my people. I manage a Weyr compliment of three hundred and seventy-two dragons, their men, and the women who work in the Lower Caverns.

[It's impossible to keep her fury completely at bay, however.]

In herding stubborn fools, I have been taking lessons my entire life. I find that food helps. Would you care to join me?

[anteil]

Yes.

| She smirks and ends transmission.

It's no use denying it, her intention had been to provoke, if only just a little. The message hadn't been subtle: give me a shred of proof that you're capable, else I won't even bother coming down the stairs. Well, Helga got more out of it than just a shred. If the numbers aren't boasting, they could be called impressive – albeit her knowledge on whatever a Weyr is is severely limited. If it's similar to an army, she's impressed... But for all she knows, it might just be a village or nomad group of sorts. Perhaps a cross between the two? Either way, it takes some amount of leadership skill. The keyword, to Helga, is time. She doesn't have much experience with timelines, and what little she has comes courtesy of ALASTAIR. This seems to be true for most of the recruits she has spoken to so far, which directly leads to the conclusion that Lessa has, in fact, valuable experience to share. This isn't the time to muse on about dragons, but rest assured they're on her mind.

And yet, there's the temper. Privately, Helga enjoys that in other people, but on a professional level, she herself had been held to a higher standard, and while this was most likely a mercenary default she shouldn't hold other people to, over the years, she's come to appreciate it. To counter that: Lessa kept her dignity. Roused she might have been, but her anger was not a child's, and it hadn't seemed to take control... So far. One of these days, she'll have to push her luck.

Shortly after closing the feed, Helga deigns to leave her room to join Lessa at the suggested place. She's tall, beautiful, and in uniform - the jacket aside, it's too hot, even at this time of day - and she approaches the other woman with confidence. It's also immediately obvious that she's a fighter, in spite of her not carrying any weapons openly. It's in her built, her statue, and the way she moves. I|

Helga Sinclair. | She swallows her rank; there's a point where your superior attempts to kill you that kind of forces you to regroup. It takes some getting used to, and a little over a week has not been enough of that. It shouldn't strictly speaking be obvious, and given that her overall demeanour is part sultry, part reserved, there are other explanations for the tone available - mainly that odd combination. |

You are younger than you sounded.

| That's neither a compliment nor an insult. |

VOICE. UN: LOKI

[selfimage]

[ here's a voice that sounds familiar. ]

You know, this just makes it sound like you don't know anything. Why should anyone share?

[ and annoying. ]

[queenofsalt]

Why should they not? We are a team, after all, for better or worse.

[Oh, this one again. Lessa forces herself to be patient.]

I'm asking for you and others to join me so that we can share what we know. You never know, Loki of Asgard, the solution might just lie in a team of sweet-talking, light-footed dark and handsome young men to come calling on this Nalanni. Somebody has to make the lava flow again.

[The idea gives her cause to quirk a grin, at least.]

[selfimage]

[ there are no toes in your direct vicinity here, Lessa, not even metaphorical ones. ]

Ah, yes, it's not as if I haven't been in worse places—[ but that's amusing to him for other reasons. god of fire reasons. there were always burning Loki jokes to be had. ]—but that sounds far too hot for me.

Tell me you at least have something to bring to the table.

video; un: hawkeye

[strictdiscipline]

That's a lot of ground to cover. [Her voice is light but the glint in her eyes is serious.] Is there any one place you'd like to start?

[queenofsalt]

[Lessa taps the table in front of her.]

I want to start with getting to know who else here is willing to ask difficult questions and jump to hard work when the opportunity arises, because dancing and drinking and passing out will only get you so far.

[So maybe being dropped into the middle of a wild party after being briefed on a grave mission from a bored operative is grating on the Weyrwoman, but she's trying not to snap. In fact, she musters up the nerve to smile in as authentic a fashion as she can.]

Like I said, you can meet me at the central gathering room in the inn; the keeper is supplying a hearty breakfast and I've asked him to pull some tables together. I'd like to do this face to face.

[strictdiscipline]

They'll get you farther in life than will getting stepped out by mythical creatures dropping like weights from the sky.

[If there's a sharp edge to her voice, it's because she's been on edge for the past few months or so. After Anwick, after Chantes, after the atrocity of Oska-that-wasn't-really-Oska, Riza's more than ready for a bit of harmless singing and dancing.

But.

This woman has a point, and one she would be unwise to dismiss so early. So:]

I'll be there in ten minutes.

[And true to her word, she arrives some minutes later, ducking through the too-short door in a simple shirt and skirt, all the deerfolk could provide for the tropical weather of Nalawi. It doesn't take too long to spot and navigate to the appropriate table, though she doesn't immediately sit down.]

Lessa of Pern?

video;

[conqueress]

[ Senior Weyrwoman. Dany isn't certain what the titles mean (is Golden Ramoth some great horse, perhaps?), precisely, but she's curious enough about this bold, somewhat presumptuous woman to try her crystal for the first time. Cue a silver-haired young queen gazing into the feed, her eyes a strange shade of violet. ]

You are well-met, Lessa of Pern. [ Her voice is carefully pleasant, her face a neutral mask. She is holding court again. ] Such titles would only be claimed by a woman of great significance, I have no doubt. I would hear your strengths.

[ Delegation, Dany suspects. ]

Re: video;

[queenofsalt]

[Lessa's first impression is of a Lady Holder, with that kind of pleasant control--especially in the face of the other backwash she's been getting from grumpy teammates not interested in waking early.

She taps a finger against the table and considers Dany's face, feeling shrewdly pleased.]

Among the rest of us, I am still figuring out what particular strengths would suit. However, if you'd like to meet with me over breakfast, I'd be happy to make an exchange. May I have a name, or a title?

[If nothing else, she doesn't want to fail to acknowledge the well-spoken young woman.]

[conqueress]

[ Make an exchange. Her own shrewdness leads her to be skeptical. How many times has she bluffed, when she wished to secure armies? Ships? ]

Would that I could. [ The refusal is polite enough. She is accustomed to giving, not receiving invitations. Her pride dictates that she not come to anyone a beggar, and so she must first don the pearl crown and bring Drogon with her. ] Another time, perhaps. The morning is young still, and Drogon is trying to rob the sea of its fish.

[ Her gaze fixates on something beyond the view of the feed, then flickers back to Lessa. She will, however, gladly give what has already been given. ] My name is Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen. In my world, I am Queen of Meereen, and Mother of Dragons.

[ She has many more titles, but those are for Missandei to announce. ]

Text; username: Silk

[blacksilk]

[It was strange, having others announce themselves so readily.

Once he thought about it--no, it wasn't strange at all. Pride and self-assurance did plenty to give people a sense of security that wasn't necessary.]

I've taken down numerous notes, already.

Before I was brought here, I was fortunate enough to make it to the library to liberate its supplies of a notebook and pens.

(Consider Lessa's responses in voice; text ain't her thang!)

[queenofsalt]

[Lessa, unaware of potential danger from within the ranks, is more than happy to soak up some sense.]

Records, then! Oh, good. I don't suppose you've been speaking with the locals, have you? Come down to the Inn's main room if you have some time. We could stand to record what others have learned, don't you think?

Noted! Chrollo is in text until otherwise changed!

[blacksilk]

I support your suggestion.

I've spoken to a few locals and worked with them in rebuilding. They seem incredibly outgoing regarding their gifts and the goddess, herself. It hasn't been difficult to ge them to open up.

text, un:lancer

[riastraid]

[ So many words, so many titles, so much... business chatter. Lancer's got negative interest in being used as a data repository, but that's evened out by the chance to talk to a pretty lady lbr ]

dunno if i have anything worth sharing but company. mind if i stop by anyway?

(voice back; Lessa's not a text-queen~!)

[queenofsalt]

Of course. There's something like klah here to wake anybody up. I suppose I should warn you that Ramoth accompanies me. She doesn't tend to bite. Please, join me.

video | un; sieglindesullivan

[grunehexe]

Hoh... someone of a cooperative mind I have yet to meet! How nice to see in this place. Very well- I am not averse to discussing such things and imparting what knowledge I have garnered to those wishing to learn.

I shall make my way to you post haste.

[For all the formality of those words... that's definitely a child on the video feed, though- isn't it?]

(Sorry for the slow! Been a busy week!)

[queenofsalt]

[It sure as hell looks like one! Lessa, busy idly pushing some breakfast around her plate, is relieved to have some sort of reply.

She humours Sieglinde through her speech, smiling fondly at the disconnect between the young face and those business-like words. They remind her of when she was that age, to be completely honest.]

Before you hurry over, what is your name, girl?

No problem!

[grunehexe]

My name is Sieglinde Sullivan.

[There's a telltale purse of lips at the phrase "girl", but.]

And though my titles will mean as little to you as "weyrwoman" does to me, I am both the Green Witch and Lord of Wolfssclucht.