[Open & shut] girls in STEM

[sprent]

WHO: Gela and Iona Baynrac, and guests!
WHAT: Catch-all (closed; one open)
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Many places and new office
NOTES: Chill for now, will update where needed

OUTSIDE THE OFFICE

"Damn—"

That’s the sound of your new head of Diplomacy dropping something out of the already precarious stack in her arms. A sheaf of scrap papers, held together by a good clip, has slithered out of place and is slinking down the stairs behind her as she stands, wavering, trying to decide if she should leave it there and come back — but somebody could slip! — only to have more bits and pieces tumble to the ground when she crouches to snatch for it. "Wait! Wait, stay—"

If somebody would like to give her a hand before everything ends up halfway down the central tower, that would be greatly appreciated.

INSIDE THE OFFICE

The office, the workspace, the living quarters tacked on — she's exploring this new domain, having stacked her things by the open door, ready to push them around to her liking. There is a bit of furniture in here and a small window, which she has opened, though the occasional, sharp sounds from the eyrie above will take some getting used to.

Something else Gela is not used to: having this much room to herself. She seems a little bewildered by this new privilege, welcoming anybody at the door by leaping to her feet and opening it for them, ushering them inside herself.

Don't mind the duck attempting to nest on the tail of a bolt of twill propped up in a corner. She was given a nice box and rejected it.

Comments

[sprent]

Oh, okay — Iona sits up straighter too, mimicking him. "Um," he starts.

Pauses. His little smile slips slightly.

"... I'm asking you, aren't I?"

[altusimperius]

"Asking me... what Riftwatch does?" Benedict arches an eyebrow in a playful, ironic look: girl why're you asking to join if you don't know what it is,

"do you... are you a fighter? Craftsman of some kind? Researcher?"

[sprent]

"Merchant," he says, lifting his chin. "And asking you what you think I should do, if you're the ones recruiting folk. Right?"

He's quite aware that, despite not wanting her to weigh in on the subject in any way, he is an extension of his sister's reputation. Better to be polite and on good terms with all these coworkers.

[altusimperius]

"Oh." Matching his chin-lift, Benedict's smile remains playful.

"You'd fit well into diplomacy, I imagine, if your mercantile experience involves talking to people. We'll also be needing a new quartermaster, I think."

He breaks his gaze, looking off for a brief moment, then back. "What sort of merchant?"

[sprent]

Iona makes a face.

"Eh," he says, wiggling a hand in the air. "Maybe not the same one as my sister, ae. She'll boss me around." More so than usual, obviously. He's only here to celebrate her odd promotion but he shouldn't have to then start working for her, she'll become insufferable—

Anyway, to answer the question. "Mostly textiles. Honestly, I'm no good at it."

[altusimperius]

There are several glimmers of recognition in Benedict's face: one at the mention of a sister, the other at textiles. The second is carefully set aside for now-- no need to invoke his father if someone else doesn't bring it up.

"Your sister?" he asks, cluelessly, and in that same moment the pieces click together. There's a resemblance.

"Gela!"

[sprent]

"Yes," Iona says, nearly laughing, "Sorry. I thought you all knew already — she chats."

And has told him about almost everybody here in turn and so he thought that might have been reciprocated but never mind. "My name's Iona," yo-nah. He brushes his hand off on his trouser leg before extending it to shake. "Good to meet you."

[altusimperius]

"Iona," Benedict repeats, gripping the newcomer's hand with a slightly self-conscious grin. Gela's brother. She would Find Out if anything happened, wouldn't she, not that that's on the table, but what if it were--

"Benedict," he replies, "are you here long?"

[sprent]

"Benedict," he says. There. Now they've met. "I'm here for a fortnight and then I'm back off again home, unfortunately, work won't allow any longer.

"Unless here becomes the work?" he adds, hastily. And grins.

[altusimperius]

“Aw.” A little disappointed tsk, but Benedict stays smiling.

“Do you want it to be? Because—“ he flushes lightly, but leans back, playing it cool, “—I mean, it can.”

[sprent]

"Yes," he says, and, "She won't let me. Gela. Work here, I mean, I'm — it's dumb to ask you and pretend I'm being serious." He blows air out of puffed cheeks and smiles again. The family resemblance is strong, through the smile.

"Sorry."

[altusimperius]

"Mean." Gela, of course. Benedict would absolutely never call her that if it weren't a joke, but Iona seems like he has a sense of humor.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, his smile persisting as he rests his chin on his hand, "but I won't pretend I'm not disappointed, either. Just visiting, then?"