[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

[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.

[queenofsalt]

Witty conversation and a stable of jokes at a man's expense aren't enough?

[It's hard to act offended that he doesn't expect her to have done any of her own work. Lessa doesn't sober much, but she does incline her head to indicate that she's not joking, not entirely.]

I've been playing chess with our inn warder. He's seen enough to wither the eyes, if you can believe that... but what he's said respectfully doesn't leave these four walls, so if you want to hear more you'll have cross the threshold and promise to keep a secret or two.

[selfimage]

You know you don't have to try to entice me with your stunning information mining prowess. You could simply tell me that you'll buy me dinner, and I'd be more inclined to join you.

[ there's a heave of a sigh. ]

Though I suppose if you want to tell me of old men, then I may need a few drinks to boot.

[queenofsalt]

[Lessa outright laughs.]

I'm sure there's a few left over bottles from the feast. Trust me, I'd do just about anything to get fresher leads, and you can be grateful that I've softened our keeper up enough to part with his reserves.

[selfimage]

Good. Then you have the go ahead to indulge me with some stunning imagery about the leathery texture of his skin, and just how soft and squishy he's managed to become.

I'll be grateful for it after dinner.

[queenofsalt]

To speak nothing of the hairs, but our host are tidier than the tired old eyes would have you think.

[This is too much, even for Lessa.]

You know where I'll be. Bring something to write with; we've a world to save and ideas that need generating that have nothing to do with squish factor.

[selfimage]

Aye aye.

[ HE'S BRINGING NOTHING. ]