The Scene: The Main Ballroom of Harper Hall
Jueann smiles to Liesana and to Leyte as she survyes the Ballroom. Seeing Poirot, her smile turns to a frown and a deep sigh. "One moment "master" Poirot." She puts a slight emphasis on his title.
Liesana is in the ballroom this fine Istan day, but Liesana isn't noticeable at first glance, seated on one of the stone benches near a corner and quietly going over some lesson notes. At the unusual tone from Jueann, the youngest of the Masters pricks up her ears and melts into the shadows a little more to observe and not draw attention to herself.
Poirot stops his forward momentum and turns with a smile that is more a smirk under his immaculate mustache. "Why Jueann," he purposefully leaves off her title, "What may I do to help you?" His tone implies that she must need help in the simplest of things and he is obviously the best qualified to help her.
Kirsyn walks in.
Jueann sighs deeply, "I would prefer you address me as Craftmaster Jueann as we need to talk and You can cut the charm. I've received several reports from *my* apprentices about your conduct here and I want an explanation."
Poirot stands facing Jueann and straightens (if that's possible) his back more as she speaks. His smile doesn't waver. "And why must I answer to complaints from apprentices?" his head tilts just a fraction of an inch, the only scowl is in his tone. "Any apprentice will cite you many wrongs done by their superiors. I do not take such things seriously. Neither should you. Good day," he turns to leave and go about his business.
Jueann frowns, clenching her fist, "I've ordered Leyte and her drudges to pack your things, and I've written the weyr to send a bronze rider. You are out of here."
Liesana peeks around the edge of the staircase blocking her view of the proceedings, a look of unholy delight settling in her eyes as it sounds as though Poirot is finally being dealt with. The young master continues to hold her ground, here for support, but apparently thinking Jueann is doing splendidly on her own.
Kirsyn should have brought popcorn. Looks like Poirot's going to be told off, and by Jueann, no less. Kirsyn couldn't just...not come. The harper apprentice flounces in, and waggles a few fingers towards Liesana, before hanging around the entrance, hoping to see the show.
Poirot stops mid-step, his face a mask of confined fury that changes to calm as he inhales and exhales before turning to face Jueann again. His mustache twitches in annoyance before he speaks "I think I have misheard you?" he still refuses to use her name if she demands that title with it. "/I/ am being removed? I who am most competent and knowledgeable am being removed because some ill mannered, sensitive, outspoken, ill trained," he pauses and you can hear the capital letter when he continues, "Apprentices complained when I have tried to give them my attention and correct their behaviors and lack of learning?"
Jueann sighs, running her hand through her hair, "Giving them.... " she snorts, calling on her turns of handling unruly, under age tyrants, pulls her up, "You heard me. While I am still Craft master here and *YOU* will address me as Craftmaster, I hold sway. You are being recalled. I want you gone."
Liesana gives Kirsyn an absent nod and beckons her mentee to join her on her bench, lifting a finger to her lips to call for silence. No need to interrupt and give Poirot a chance to regroup, after all.
For a moment one hand clenches and unclenches, as if Poirot might be on the verge of losing control, but it is not to be. Master Poirot steps back one step and all but clicks his heels together, the epitome of gentlemanly behavior as he gives Master Jueann a small bow. "I see," he says quite calmly, that smile back on his face. "And I will, of course, be allowed to mentor that most charming Christatha and bring her with me?"
Jueann frowns, "No! You may not! You came alone, you leave alone. And I suggest you look to your laurels Poirot. From the reports several of my harpers plus mine, you may not be a master for long."
Poirot bristles; there is no other word for it. "I find it inconceivable that you would coerce that lovely child to stay here in this..." he searches for a word and find one "Stifling place when I can show her true learning!"
Jueann bristles, "First you say I don't run this Hall to your satisfaction and now you are calling it stifling. Which is it? Ista is a bit relaxed and we do produce some amazing Harpers. You, sir, are the fine example of a hidebound harper."
Poirot take a step toward Jueann, fire in his eyes. "Craftmaster," the word drips venom, "Jueann, I will have a thing or two to say about how this hall is run /when/ I finally leave here." His tone, if not his words, says he'll be leaving when he pleases, not at Jueann's pleasure. "Relaxed? Yes! The apprentices are unruly and so are their teachers. Stifling? Yes! When one does have an intelligent thought or opinion, it seems you don't want to hear it. You don't seem to know as much as even your own mind."
Jueann's flash with anger. "With all due respect, Master Poirot. I find I like my Hall just the way it is. My Harpers are more free thinking than Fort Hall's."
Qovin walks down the curving staircase from the balcony hallway.
Qovin steps down from the balcony with a new pad of paper and pencil, not having touched either, and notices the masters. He blinks as they yell, and whips out the pad of paper. 'This should make a good drawing..' he thinks, as he draws them in mid shout. of course, it comes out like they are just normally talking...he needs to learn a bit more. for now, this is good.
Liesana continues to watch, biding her time in case she's needed, but stilling herself from tossing in a few choice comments of her own. As much as she'd like to help, this is the Crafthead's battle, and she daren't interfere. For now.
Kirsyn watches, as well, from peeking in through the entrance, eyes flicking back and forth from Jueann to Poirot as the debate continues. "Wonder what will be the outcome of all this," is murmured to herself, as a hand rises upwards to give Shandi a quick scratch.
Poirot suddenly changes. His shoulders relax and he even chuckles as he reaches out a hand to pat Jueann condenscendingly on her shoulders. "My dear Craftmaster, you seem overwrought. I'm sure you will see that you are mistaken and I am correct once you have had time to think with your mind and not with your feminine emotions."
Without much thought except that she is a female and highly emotional, Jueann's hand swings out and *SLAP!* The sound echos throughout the Ballroom. "You are dismissed. Master Poirot. I want you gone by the end of the sevenday."
Qovin blinks at the slap, and starts to change the drawing.. as he draws, he notices kirsyn and liesana, and adds them into a corner of the drawing.. He sighs at it, and wishes he had more to add, so he starts to add the tapestry and other little details.
Poirot's cheek turns red. Poirot's face turns red. Poirot turns red all over. Angry and barely keeping himself from slapping Master Jueann back, if the clenching and unclenching of his fists mean anything, Poirot inhales and exhales slowly. His eyes squint slightly as he glowers into the Istan Craftmaster's eyes. "As I said," he says through clenched teeth, "Mind, not emotion. This is not over." He moves around Jueann and back out of the room with measured, unhurried steps.
Poirot walks to the Great Hall.
>From the corner of the room inhabited by Liesana and Kirsyn, a pair of masterly hands begins clapping, slow and measure as Liesana stands up. "Well done, Jueann! I knew you had it in you!" she calls over, looking distinctly happy with things.
Jueann"s hands clench and unclench as she mutters dark thoughts under her breathe, watching the the Fortian master stalk off. It is then that she notices the witnesses. Oh shards! Turning she notices Liesana and Qovin and then Kirsyn. Oh shards! Now what?
Qovin blinks at Jueann this time, and tries to hide the drawing, but fails. he can't find a spot to hide it in, so he just keeps his hand on it. he stands, and tries to sneak over to the stairs.
Jueann sighs at Qovin, "I hope that picture is posted in the Archives to be graded Qovin." She goes to sit by Liesana and Kirsyn. "I hope I was forceful enough."
Kirsyn gives a whoop for Jueann, from where she is near Lies, a grin fixated on her features. Kirsyn does so love to see a bad man smacked down. Especially a bad, /bad/ man smacked down by a woman. Neh? A flurry of nods are sent towards Jue, as well, in agreement with Liesana's statement.
Liesana's grin ought to be reassuring, along with the general air of approval from the rest of the room. "Didn't I tell you she could handle herself, Kirsy?" asks Liesana of her mentee happily. "He's out on his arse now."
Qovin sighs, and stops. he turns around, and stands there. he looks down, and looks at the picture of jueann Slapping Poirot..Qov doesn't know /why/ she slapped him, and he has no real knowledge about poirot besides the fellow's name and that he's a fort master.. "It will master jueann" is muttered, as he thinks he's in /deep/ trouble.
Jueann is feeling very sick to her stomach at the moment. She really really hates confrontations and sighs, "I could use something." Looking up at Qovin, giving him a slight smile, "I bet by the day's done, several people will come up to you wanting copies made." Leaning back, she closes her eyes. "I still think we'll see more trouble from him before he leaves."
Kirsyn wrinkles her nose at Liesana. "And what an unattractive arse it was." Kirsyn's the type to notice such things, of course, seeing as...she's Kirsyn. Which should sum everything up nicely. "You /did/. And surprise! You're right again," is tacked on, Kirsyn sticking her tongue out at her mentor. At the end, a thoughtful look's given towards Jueann.
Jueann sighs as she stands up, a little shakily, "I...I think I need to go take care of a few things. If you'll excuse me?"
Qovin stands back, and lets jueanna past him. he then walks over to Kirsyn and Liesana, and says "Do you think I drew this well?" before he sits down quietly to let them see it.
Kirsyn gives a quick glance towards Qovin's drawing, and gives a nod. "Very good," is noted towards the fellow apprentice. "But I have to catch a ride with Lies back to smith. See you another time, perhaps?" is noted in his direction absentmindedly, as she hurries to catch up with her mentor.
*** Disconnected ***
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