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Paintings And Masks

Location: North Weyr
Time: Afternoon on Day 27, Month 13, Turn 3
Players: Miniyal, Roa, Jashin
Scene: Miniyal has been instructed to bring a present to the new mom by her mom. Jashin proves himself useful in ways unpredicted.



As far as infants go, Jashin is probably a good one for a beginner. There hasn't been a lot of screaming (relatively) coming from the North Weyr since he showed up a few days ago, and though the weyrwoman has been scarce, word seems to be that she's doing well. Just this afternoon, Roa's a bit underdressed to be anywhere but home in loose, baggy breeches so worn they've faded from black to grey, a warm button-down shirt that, from the way the cuffs are rolled and rolled, was probably Ashwin's once, and her hair in a simple braid that falls down her back. On her feet, heavy socks. The fire crackles in the hearth and Tialith drowses on her couch as Roa walks a slow circle between the couches and the bed, the lump that used to be protruding from her belly now cradled up against her shoulder, instead.

A nice domestic scene such as what goes on in the weyr cannot be allowed to continue uninterrupted. That would make things much too normal. So, there comes upon the door a quiet knocking from the other side. Not too loud as if the person doing the knocking does not wish to bother anyone who might be sleeping. Miniyal shuffles her feet and once she's knocked switches a small something, flat and wrapped in plain hide, from one hand to the other.

The weyrwoman's head lifts a little, her thoughts snapping back from wherever they wandered. She takes a few steps towards the door and then pauses to glance down at the baby. She smirks, head shaking. "What they'll when I open the door like this..." she informs him but a few more steps take Roa to the door, and that's precisely what she does.

When the door opens the various fidgeting stops and Miniyal looks from mother to baby and then clears her throat. "Is this a bad time?" There are whole new reasons for it to be a bad time so the question asked makes perfect sense. Not just because it's the same question she asks in some variation or the other every time she shows up at the door. "Umm. My parents asked me to bring this by." The hand holding the package lifts a bit. See? Something.

The weyrwoman blinks in mild surprise but she shakes her head as Jay twitches one foot at the sound of this new voice. "If it was a bad time, you probably would have heard it through the door." Jashin's other foot kicks and, though there's not a whole lot of motion options available when one is under a sevenday old, he still manages to make himself look restless. Roa steps back and turns the baby around so grey-blue eyes can study the woman in the doorway, rather than the weyr behind his mother's back. He settles, limp again, to simply and openly stare up at Miniyal. "Please come in," Roa says. "Don't mind the audience."

"Oh. It's fine. They can't even focus more than a little bit away from their face at that age." As if, otherwise, the audience might have been an issue. Well, it is Miniyal so it just might have. "They were going to bring it by themselves, but apparently have been caught up doing something or other. And they have never minded pressing me into service. Congratulations, by the way. To you and Ashwin." Offered after she has stepped inside and turned to close the door behind her. Easier to juggle what she has to close a door after all.

"An inch beyond their nose," Roa agrees. "I don't think he read the hides. Would you like to set that down somewhere? Do you want anything to drink?" She moves towards the seat area, though she has to do it backwards so that Jay can keep on staring.

Miniyal's head shakes as she holds up the package. "Corin paints. I am not sure if you knew that? Anyway, she painted this. I don't know what it is. So, umm, if it's horrid or anything I had nothing to do with it." It is always best to point those things out in advance. "I can just set it, umm. Wherever you want it."

Roa cants her haad to the side. "I didn't know that she painted. I...hrm..." She glances down at the baby keeping her arms full and then at the package that needs opening. "I don't suppose you want to...?" She looks from the baby over to Miniyal, brows arched high in question.

For a brief second there is nearly a smile on Miniyal's face. But it's gone so quickly it was quite possibly not there. She moves over to the couch to set the painting down. It's only about a foot across and the same height. "She usually only points it out to men. As a way to get them to allow her to paint them. Quite often with no shirt on." Eyes rolling she unties the twine that holds the wrapping in place. "Still. Even at her age. It's so wrong." She pauses in the unwrapping to blink and look up and over at the new mother. "How are you doing?" As if she has just recalled one should ask something like that.

"I see where you get your resourcefulnes from," Roa says with a small half-smile, "if not the inclination to paint men shirtless. If that's a portrait of Ashwin, I'm not sure if I'm going to laugh or be extremely curious as to how Corin managed it." Jashin may only see fuzzy shapes, but those shapes are doing something and making noises that he's never encountered before. His little mouth is open, jaw slack in awe of all that crinkling and crackling as the twine comes off. "I'm all right, thanks. Sort of dazed, maybe. How're you?"

"I do not think she would find it proper to send such a thing as congratulations on the birth of a son." And Corin is all about proper. Which is why Miniyal is, of course. Proper. Dignified. All that. "Well, it will wear off I imagine. Bit by bit. The dazed part. Or so they say. I am- I don't know." Shrugging she finishes unwrapping and turns the painting so it might be seen by the new mom first. Rather than a portrait it is a landscape showing the waterfall and lake outside the Weyr.

The weyrwoman takes a moment to study that painting and then she laughs and then winces. Ow. "Please give your parents my thanks. It's a beautiful painting. One of my favorite places around the weyr." She takes a few steps closer, easing herself into a sit so that Jay can stare his fill at the colors and shapes on display in Corin's work. "What don't you know?" Roa asks, looking up and over at Miniyal.

The hide that wrapped the painting is carefully folded up and the twine then folded up and tied loosely around it to create a small bundle. "How I am. I do not know. But anyway, it's not important. You have managed to find a convenient excuse to not attend the turn's end festivities I see." Miniyal stuffs the hand not holding the hide into her pocket. "Oh. I will. I mean, be sure to pass your thanks along. They will be pleased you like it."

Leaning back carefully against the arm of the couch, Roa smiles faintly. "That's a step up, at least," she offers quietly. One hand splays carefully against her son's side then moves up to smooth a bit of his hair back, though that hair's far to short and fine to need any smoothing. "He might as well make himself useful," she agrees, "I suppose it's on your shoulders to make sure everyone has a good time."

"Oh, no. I'm sure Sinopa will do a fine job doing that. I'm not going to attend." Miniyal shakes her head at the thought. "Besides, I'm not even sure I'd be allowed. Anyway, that's her sort of thing. Being social and all. It's not like anyone will know anyway. Everyone will be wearing masks." Blinking once she peers at the quiet baby. "They say the less trouble they are when young the more they will be the older they get. There's some sort of inverse behavior theory or something."

"Do they?" Roa asks, glancing down at the infant who stretches one hand open and closes it tight again. "Makes me wonder if you were very good as a baby or very difficult. I suppose he's storing it all so he can point out what I did wrong, later." She lifts her head, canting it to the side. "I would have thought you'd be interested in attending a masked ball."

Her head shakes as Miniyal shrugs her shoulders. "Well, it is just a theory. And, I do not know. I believe my parents think I have always been difficult. But, any addition to their marriage would have been difficult so I am not sure I believe them. I never meant to cause trouble." Yea, those words. Always a comfort. "I do not see why it would hold my interest any more than any other sort of gathering. There is no one- there is no reason to go. I have always preferred to not attend functions."

"Because the masks give you a sort of freedom, and everyone's a bit more willing to be themselves, with masks on. You won't be treated with any more or less courtesy than anybody else, and people of all ranks and stations are presumed to be equal if only for the night. An interesting study, if nothing else." Roa glances down as Jashin yawns, his staring at the picture and Miniyal taking on a decidedly heavy-lidded aspect. "Your father seemed to be very proud of you, the last time we spoke," she notes softly.

"Navan doesn't ever really know what he thinks of me. A lot of it depends on what Corin is saying at the time." Miniyal glances again at what appears to be a sleepy looking baby. "I should go. I imagine you don't get much rest except when he is resting. I don't want to interfere." Or stick around and say entirely the wrong thing. Which has to be coming up. "I used to be good. At being in a crowd alone. I'm just- I'm not sure how to do it anymore. I wasn't supposed to have to. Not so soon."

"I'm sorry about that," is Roa's feeble offering. She scoots forward, standing with another wince as heavy eyes become closed eyes and Jashin's 'off switch' somehow gets flicked. "Thank you for stopping in and for the painting. You should come back again sometime soon. I mean, if you want."

Pulling her free hand from her pocket Miniyal nods her head. "I'll. . .Yea. I might come by. Have a good day, ma'am." With nothing else to say she crosses the room to the door and leaves. Maybe she just doesn't think arguing in front of a baby is proper. Whatever the case, there's nothing offered as she opens the door and disappears.

After her guest slips out, the weyrwoman heads over the the bassinet near the bed. The baby is set down in the former, and Roa eases back down into the latter. "Well," she murmurs to Jay's unconscious little form, "if you notice anything I've been missing with her all this time, could you point it out?" But Jay has nothing to offer other than small, shallow breaths and the occasional twitch of his fingers.

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