Check list (J'fel)

[Invisible]

The half-way mark was right here and H’gar truly felt like he was at his wits end. He had bronzeriders not acting like they were, blueriders who were acting like asses, and two girls on green who were handfuls in their own ways. If he didn’t know his hair was part of what drew in the ladies he would have pulled it out by now. Instead he had asked Baristath to request a meeting with J’fel through Jordeth.

He’d left the weyrlings doing drills with his staff and made his way to J’fel’s weyr. There were ideas he wanted to run by the weyrleader. It felt weird going to the boy with his ideas, but he didn’t want to implement something new without some input before introducing it to his staff and charges. Baristath remained to watch the drills because H’gar thought it best to see what was going on at all times.

The old man made his way across the bowl and to the entrance to the weyrleader’s weyr for their appointed meeting. At first he’d thought to bring notes, but it seemed so…earnest. So instead he’d just gone over everything until it was in his head. This had to work. If this didn’t work he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last. Maybe if he’d done this before. Ah, well. He reached the door and knocked then waited in the hall.

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel had beers waiting for this meeting. Two of them graced the low table he'd added to his weyr's decor, between the two high-backed, thickly upholstered chairs that had come with the weyr when he moved in. Both had the wires up and stoppers pulled, but neither had been poured, and for this occasion glasses did stand by for pouring. But J'fel was himself just now bothering to tuck the drape back about a foot so a little of the chill outside air could come in and mix with the heat from the fire that crackled in the hearth. And, perhaps, to freshen the place.

"Come on in," he told the door, turning from the ledge and the dragon's chamber just inside to return to the part of the weyr that was his own. A light, cold breeze swirled in behind him and around him, lent speed by the beat of Jordeth's wings as the bronze came to a landing upon the ledge outside. Eavesdropper, thought J'fel, with affection.

[Invisible]

At the call H’gar stepped inside with an easy smile in place. If nothing else it would be refreshing to get away for a bit. Talk to someone he wasn’t having to tell what to do. “Thank you for seeing me, sir,” he said once fully inside. On H’gar the sir always seemed sincere. He was old school and respected the knot even if it was weird to have it on the shoulder of one so much younger than him.

“I hope I won’t take up too much of your time.” His eyes alighted on the beer and his grin reappeared. Here was a meeting he could get into it looked like. While he waited to be invited to sit he studied the young man who’d given him the knot.

[Omnia Munda]

"Any time, H'gar." And maybe J'fel really meant it, too. The weyr could not be said to be in disarray, yet there was a demeanor about the man who lived here and the carefulness with which pillows had been placed and furniture straightened that suggested it had not been used for so formal or businesslike a purpose as meeting with the weyrlingmaster as little as, say, half an hour ago. No matter: J'fel was airy, gracious, seemingly honestly glad to have the chance to connect with the weyrlingmaster. He gestured at the chairs, the beers, the little table. "Have a seat, have a pour," he said. "I've got the drape open - thought it was getting stuffy in here. But if you think it's cold just say so and I'll give the fire a good poke."

The boy weyrleader grinned, then retreated toward the chairs, bending to scoop up a beer and a glass so as to pour for himself while waiting on his guest to choose a seat. "How's Baristath? Someone wants to know."

[Invisible]

With the invitation given H’gar moved to the table. He looked at the bottle before deciding to go ahead and pour. After all some beers were better left in the bottle, but this one seemed otherwise. “I do appreciate the beverage, sir,” he said with a chuckle. As he poured and got himself settled he ran over, again, what it was he was here for. What he needed to say. How to do it without coming across like a complete loser.

“Appreciate the cool, sir. It’s not going to bother me this close to the fire. Even my old bones aren’t quite so old yet.” He laughed again before taking a drink of the beer in his glass. “Damn fine brew,” he says. “And Baristath is doing well. He wanted to tag along, but I like him to watch the drills. Lets the weyrlings know I’ll know if they disrespect the staff I have with them.” There was something in his tone, some trouble unsaid when he talked about the weyrlings.

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel had no idea whether this was a beer better left in the bottle. He'd not yet drunk it from a glass, and for him this was more than adequate excuse for the glasses to be provided. As it was, the process of pouring had already bought a necessary nicety: the time in which his guest chose a seat.

"Lets them know Baristath's as much in charge as you are, too," agreed J'fel, now sinking into the seat not preferred by the other man's position. He heard the trouble, and answered it this way, casually, leaning forward to put his bottle down on the table and leaning back for a sip of his beer. He mulled it a little before swallowing, then took the bait, blue gaze upcast and solemn from beneath the flare of long lashes. "That a big hassle, with this group?"

[Invisible]

“Not sure I’d have taken the knot if I’d known what this bunch was going to do,” H’gar said quite honestly. “One or two I could handle, but it seems there’s hardly a one in this group who seems to take a thing seriously. And there's K'mar who takes everything seriously.” His head shook before he had himself another drink from his glass.

“Baristath mostly does ok with the younglings, sir. Ain’t the problem as much as their riders.” The weyrlingmaster leaned back in his chair and looked levelly at the weyrleader. “By now they should have listened and learned to what I’ve been trying to teach em. Maybe I ain’t done a good enough job, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let that lot go the way they are now. I’ll keep em til they’re old as me.”

If it had not meant being potentially stuck with them that long he'd have entertained the notion seriously. "So, I've been trying to come up with something to snap em into line."

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel snorted softly, and just as softly said, "Let me worry about K'mar," but it was more wry than forceful and hardly meant to stop the weyrlingmaster from concerning himself with even the oddball brownrider. The smile left his lips quickly, chased off by another sip of beer, and the weyrleader listened some more.

Except Ez'ki, thought J'fel, to 'By now they should have learned and listened...' but then J'fel thought again. Lay the blame at his parents' feet if you like, he reminded himself, but you had no parents and here you are. His expression became, upon these thoughts, more grim. What concerned him most was the notion that it wasn't just that one bluerider, Salina's pet.

So he bent an elbow across his knee, leaning forward. "And you've got something," he guessed, "and it's something you figure the weyrleader should sign off on." Before he could control it, a brow arched - so J'fel let it stay that way. It was hard, playing at being a man's man.

[Invisible]

“My main concern with K’mar is what the others might be doing to the lad.” H’gar was old enough even K’mar was a lad to him. “He’s so damned earnest even I want to shake him sometimes. But I’d take more of him if it got me fewer of some of the others.” He didn’t want to mention names, but he wondered if it was his job to do so. After all J’fel was weyrleader.

“Hate to say it, sir, but it seems like those drawn to our new weyrwoman seem to be the worst of it. Like she’s going to shield them from their own bad habits.” It bothered him. Salina may just be a child, but she was a weyrwoman. If she was going to attract those sorts of people now…Well, thank Faranth there was a good chance Aderes wouldn’t keep her around. Not that he’d even really think that too hard just in case. A young weyrleader was ok with a strong weyrwoman, but..Well, it was a scary thought so he moved on.

“Ain’t been done before is all and is likely to cause trouble,” he said after a long drink from his glass leaving it half gone. “Want to bring in a nice big board to track em all on. Give em marks in different areas and not give em marks if they’re not meeting standards of mine.” He watched J’fel now to see what he thought. “Them that thinks they’re better than the others? Will soon learn they have to put up or someone’ll make them shut up. And they don’t meet standards they can forget graduating with the others. Might not hurt to get the wingleaders involved. Let them know they’re free to come by and check out how things are going.”

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel shrugged. He could not make more K'mars - nor would he. He had been witness, peer in fact, to some of what the weyrling had gone through before he was even a weyrling. What he'd gone through to become a weyrling. J'fel didn't know the half of it and even so he had no desire to field a wing - or a weyr - full of K'mars.

He didn't need a weyr full of Ez'kis, either, though. "Of course she'll shield them," said J'fel, "so long as she doesn't know it makes her weaker. Aderes was meant to talk to her months ago."

He was speaking out of turn - and, he realized, very close to expressing malcontent with the Weyrwoman, which he could not do. Jordeth's reminder was sharp and silent on that count, a twitch of awareness that was almost painfully present in the young weyrleader's temple. He refocused, listened to the weyrlingmaster, and spoke again only when it was time.

But he did smile a little before then. "I like it," he said through that small smile, and sipped beer before saying more. "It's a bit - like littles at the harper's knee, having lessons in letters and numbers. But they'll see one another's figures, too. Only real risk is that it might make those who see no hope of success behave even more badly to get even..." Though a thought about that was forming in the back of his mind.

Related: "But I hesitate to let the wingleaders start making up their minds this early, H'gar." J'fel leaned back in his chair again, shifting elbow from his knee to the chair's arm. He swirled his beer and watched the foam form runners on the walls of the glass. "Do I really want them banging down my door - or yours, for that matter - trying to ensure they're given the best picks?"

The weyrleader was smiling again.

[Invisible]

“So I tell the weyrlings that they’ll be coming by, sir. Don’t mean I have to let them come by this early,” H’gar said with a grin. “Besides, sir, what good wingleader isn’t already trying to find out what they need to know?” He’d seen one or two lurking about or sending wingseconds with ridiculous errands to the barracks or back and forth across the bowl at drills. Half a turn until graduation or not there was always speculation.

There was the problem with the worst only getting more so, but no solution was perfect. “It’s a risk, sure, sir, but I got to weigh that risk against the benefits. Those that let it make em worse, well…” He trailed off and then shrugged. “There’s always weyrs looking for a trade. Maybe they need to know that too. Acting all cocky right now like nothing’s going to hurt em.”

[Omnia Munda]

A low murmur, thoughtful and wordless, purred in J'fel's mouth, behind closed lips. He was smiling still, but less so, and had stopped watching his beer in favor of watching the weyrlingmaster. Upon the word 'cocky' he drew a thick breath, the smile gone entirely rueful. "I won't make Telgar the Weyr that can't control its own riders. Remind them they can be transferred at my leisure, but between you and me, a rider I can't put into my own wings will do us no honor in anyone else's wings, either."

The weyrleader's grin was gone, but the sparkle in his dark eyes was not; it was almost mean, now. "Between you and me," he repeated, lower, "if we have a failed pair out of this class, there's a residential watchpost at the mines waiting for him. Or her." An afterthought, that. "Lord Crom would love to see us bend so low, and what better duty for an unfit rider? Only have them back at the weyr a couple times a turn to report and be reviewed. I'm game."

"As for the wingleaders - trying to find out and being given leave to ask are different," J'fel noted, his tone noncommittal - the idea was still being mulled. "Would you let them in to see this checklist of yours?"

[Invisible]

Transferring riders out was a suggestion that H’gar seems to have just made as a suggestion. He couldn’t be sure what the boy weyrleader might consider after all. Best to offer any thing he could think of in case it was something he liked. “Doin’ my best, sir, to make em behave, sir. Don’t want it to be an issue at all. Just worried maybe I won’t be able to.” He couldn’t help but feel if he’d had more practice maybe he could have handled this group better. Clearly trying to be nice at the beginning was a bad idea.

“Residential watchpost at the mines,” H’gar repeated with a slow grin. “Yea, I could see that as punishment. Something to hold back on mentioning until closer to graduation. See if a final scare might push some of em into doing their duty. Ridiculous a rider not doing his duty. Makes you wonder just how bad it is at the holds these kids coming in not knowing a damned thing about behaving proper.”

The troublemakers tended to be hold or hall bred after all. A disgrace they let things fall so far during an interval. Dragonriders deserved respect no matter what. Time would come soon enough they’d be needed in the skies as more than just messengers. “As for wingleaders, sir. I think I might make it known to the weyrlings they would see it. Might not invite them to do so for another month. Give the younglings time to turn around. Those that don’t with the knowledge their future is at stake? Well, those are the ones who might be living by the mine. Think it’s just gonna be handed to em no matter what. Like just because they impress they’re guaranteed the same as everyone else even if they don’t work.”

[Omnia Munda]

"Post it in the barracks, then," said J'fel, though he didn't have any reason to believe Baristath's rider would have thought to post it anywhere else. "The board. In a couple months' time the wingleaders'd be free to poke their heads into the barracks anyway - by then any weyrling inclined to make better of himself," beat, "or herself," beat, "will have had a chance."

J'fel took a swig of his beer, signalling a pause to think. "If it becomes necessary, H'gar, we can even take a select group for a visit. But that's months ahead of us. I think your board of marks will be enough, for now - and let's hope it's enough forever."

He set the bottle down, and offered the other man his hand that they might seal this plan with a handshake.

[Invisible]

It would have to work H’gar told himself. Because he was running out of options. When the weyrleader gave his approval of the idea he nodded and allowed himself to grin. Maybe it would work. After all the weyrleader thought it might and he was of an age with the younglings. “I hope the board does it, sir,” he agreed before leaning forward to take the hand and shake on it. “I thank you for your time, sir,” he said as he rose from his chair.