Must Get Out [Darya]

[Ruby]

"I request a transfer."

Elisabeta placed both hands on Darya's desk, looming as much as her small frame would allow. She had finally tracked down one of these nonsensical 'council members' - the Weyrwoman had told her to see them, but the three they had right now seemed endlessly tied up in meetings and secret councils and whatever else they did. It seemed like a lot of arguing and not a lot of decisions to Elisabeta. Regardless, she'd finally managed to get one alone, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately? That remained to be seen) it was the only woman. There would be no sleeping her way out of Selenitas here, not that that would have worked with the child-healer either.

Darya. An interesting choice for council, no doubt, but Blueriders were supposed to be Wingriders, maybe Weyrlingmasters or Candidatemasters when they got old. They weren't suited to leadership, just like women were not suited to leadership. It looked like doom to Elisabeta, and she said as much. "To Fort, if it please the council. I'll likely be gutted as a traitor if you send me back to Benden, but even that would be preferable to whatever insanity you have all become involved in. Council leadership? It does not work in war, you'll find that out soon enough. I would rather take my chances with R'anatar, as mediocre as those chances might be."

Straightening up, she crossed her arms, the fingers of one hand reaching down to brush the hilt of the dagger at her waist. "I'll swear silence, I'll have Rakmaninoth report on their movements, whatever you desire. Cut out my tongue if you wish, just grant me my transfer. I refuse to be second to a long-haired Bluerider who hasn't the faintest idea how to handle Candidates; I refuse to be ruled over by some set of rogue misfits." She could have added a 'no offense' there, but she did intend offense. So.

This was going well and all, or at least as well as Elisabeta could have hoped, but she had overlooked something important: Sunshine. The mandyr, sensing his' distress, flattened himself and squeezed in under the door, dashing for Elisabeta's pantleg so he could scurry up to her shoulder, singing loudly the whole way. Elisabeta very nearly facepalmed.

[Kisha-Ra]

Darya consider the woman standing over her with a kind of detached calm, true one hand was out of view under the desk with the fingers brushing the hilt of her long dagger, but the left hand was in view, with the bluerider’s chin propped on it as she regarded this older woman with faint curiosity. Nor was that the least of the scrutiny Elisabeta was enduring, though it was doubtful that the other four pairs of eyes in the room belonged to anything the greenrider would consider a threat, except maybe Vrae who was drowsing on his perch anyway.

‘Well I have to say here,’ Darya’s voice sounded considered but mildly curious, ’That it seems the whole of what you’re telling me is that you wish to transfer to Fort Weyr, where you may well be killed on sight, because you think the idea of having a council is stupid.’ Darya left out all the implied insults in the greenrider’s statements, such as that everyone here was a bunch of insane rogue misfits, and looked up to meet the woman’s grey eyes. ‘Did I miss any important point there? Because frankly, that does not seem to be the best thought out plan I’ve heard today.’ Darya nobly refrained from using the term the council right back at the other woman, nor did she mention that today’s best plan so far was from Imp, and was a ploy to get more food from the kitchens and present it to his mate.

The salamandyr that squeezed under the door was something of a surprise, not because he got under the door, even Imp could manage that if he tried, but because he, as the creature ascended to Elisabeta’s shoulder Darya could see it was a brown, was singing. Loudly. To judge by the way Imp perked up the moment he heard the brown salamandyr, and the cheerful chirp the bronze offered as greeting, this was one of Imp and Harmony’s offspring. Small world. Or at least one with a great deal of small noisy lizards in it. Luckily Sweetling didn’t seem inclined to come out and play, instead lurking in Darya’s shirt with her head peeping out the collar and commenting softly Sing he to she. as if Darya couldn’t hear that for herself.

[Requiem]

Seems there is a very noisome Rakmaninoth's in your office, CrytkeeperMine. Yes, I can hear her from here, S'rei agreed dryly. He strode into the office he shared with the other two Council members - an office that was conspicuously being rearranged to accomodate what looked like two more people - with a tray laden with food. Just in time to catch the last of Darya's comments. (She hadn't been practically screaming, after all.) The bronzerider couldn't resist a chuckle. "No, I'd say not."

He placed the tray down on Darya's desk and perched on the edge of it. "I'd ask how you're doing today, Elisabeta, but I think you've made that clear already. Help yourself," he added, gesturing to the tray of foodstuffs. Of course Darya already knew she was welcome to them; he'd gone out to get lunch for them both, after all. E'rro was in the infirmary, as usual...though it looked like they might have to ask him to come out for a few minutes if this continued.

"In Benden gutted as a traitor. In Fort tortured. Unless they still call it interrogation? If you think that's better than staying here..." S'rei shrugged slightly. "Only way I see you getting into Fort unscathed is coming with information they want, and if I know Fort, the moment you show them something interesting they'll go digging for more. You'd probably be better off with Benden. If your main problem here is giving up authority to M'kai, then perhaps you'd prefer to be on one of the wings. I'd be willing - glad, even - to take you. I imagine E'rro would jump at the chance, as well."

[Ruby]

Humph. Apparently the best way to get the Council to hear your case was to accost them in their offices without an appointment. Not just Darya, but now the giant one was here, too. At least he was a Bronzerider, even if he'd given up any right to the title when he'd given up control of the Weyr. Luckily, when the little green salamandyr poked her head out of Darya's shirt, Sunshine stopped his song, hissed, frilled, and retreated, so by the time S'rei finished speaking the three humans no longer had to ignore a loud Brown creature. Elisabeta figured it added a touch of credence to her... plea?

The bronzerider's laugh got an absolutely evil glare from the Greenrider, and she snapped, "This is no laughing matter; I would appreciate it if you would keep your mirth in check until I leave, thank you." Her tone could have frozen hot klah; he might find it amusing, but this was Elisabeta's life he was laughing at. She did not appreciate it.

Once he got down to business, though, Elisabeta was momentarily lost. Who should she be addressing, here, and who should she be ignoring? An up-jumped Bluerider who had risen above her place, but who was a woman and might have sympathy for Elisabeta because of it? Or a Bronzerider, the kind of man Elisabeta would normally be perfectly happy to defer to, who had apparently removed his balls... for what? To ensure his place in the hierarchy even when his dragon couldn't catch anymore, even if it meant giving up some power? Coward. She couldn't decide who she despised more, so she settled for standing at attention and staring into the middle distance between them, shooting significant glances towards one or the other as she addressed them.

"I believe a council is a death sentence," the Greenrider replied, half snippy, half resolved, "And that the Candidatemaster is an irresponsible fool who will do more harm than good. If you choose to put your faith in him, and in some mess of a council, that is your prerogative; I prefer to die on my own terms, and give myself the best possible chance of survival. I am on a Wing, or I was under H'nes. Ja'kin's wing. You don't even have wings, you are all too busy arguing about who goes where. I understand that you want to keep your precious little hidey hole safe, so I am prepared to tell them that I abandoned Benden with the Wastelanders, invaded Selenitas, and was out on search when the earthquake happened. When I returned, I felt that my advanced age made me unfit for the sort of hard living the Selenitans were forced to after the destruction of their weyr, and requested a transfer. I will report on the Wastelanders, especially those that have expired, and on Benden before my abandonment. I will claim to have had little to do with Selenitans of any variety, which is true enough, and that my last contact with Selenitans occurred in the rubble of your old Weyr. You can trust that I will do this...

"Or you can deny me my transfer, and I will leave anyway, and then I will spill every one of your secrets that I know. I can be a peace offering to Fort, a transfer in good faith, a gesture to establish trust, or I can do everything in my power to ensure that you rot in your monster-infested mountain. Your choice."

[Requiem]

So...that was how she was going to play it, was it? He'd already stopped chuckling, but that didn't keep the ever-so-slight upturn to the corner of his mouth from manifesting. Smirk, half-smile, microexpression...hard to say. His eyes still held some amusement in them, though it wasn't the warm kind. No. A smart person would have noted that expression and proceeded with caution. A smart person, considering her past, would have remembered where this bronzerider came from, and who else had feared him enough never to dare try to touch him. A smart person...well, there were few enough of those around Selenitas. Why should Elisabeta be any different?

The attitude wasn't changing much. S'rei pushed off the desk, slipping hands into his pockets and sauntering almost lazily back toward the door as Elisabeta went on and on with this story she thought she'd charm the Fortians with. As if they didn't hate Benden riders with a blinding passion after nearly two decades of fighting. As if they'd ever taken a man's word over what they could learn themselves with a few tried and true methods of 'persuasion.' Only a fool would think she could pick and choose what she'd tell and what she'd keep to herself. Only a fool. Selenitas had been brought down by fools enough already.

He leaned against the door - the only door - his stance entirely relaxed and hands still casually occupying his pockets, watching her through eyes half-lidded in what might have been mistaken as a sleepy fashion. Oh. And now that was truly funny. S'rei's lips split into a broad grin. Apparently their only options were to trust her, a Wastelander who'd come with the others (and was probably put up to it by Fort anyway, an unwitting pawn in a much bigger game to destabilize Benden) who had killed the then Weyrleader's family including his very young twins, or for her to go to Fort and reveal everything. Only two options. Could have fooled him.

Gently, almost as if talking to a young child, he responded...after letting the silence draw on for nearly half a minute... "For future reference, when trying to win someone's trust, being insulting and arrogant while threatening them is not the smartest way to go about it." There was something distinctly disturbing about his smile now. "So let me ask you just one question: if our situations were reversed, and I was a threat to everyone who you were responsible for and/or cared about not to mention you yourself, what would you do with me?" Without apparently moving a single muscle, the man seemed to completely occupy the doorway.