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Moons in the Morning

 
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Lirssa Sarengrave
Ancient Wyrm
Ancient Wyrm


Joined: 29 Jul 2007
Posts: 735
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Jobs: Performer
Can Be Found: Rhydin
38982.98 Silver Crowns

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PostPosted: Mon Nov 14, 2016 2:46 pm    Post subject: Moons in the Morning Reply with quote

Lirssa walked the railing of the stair landing. It was early morning at Get Bent studio in the RhyDin Center for Circus Arts. None of the students or staff had arrived. She was not providing a poor role model at the moment as she paced that railing, feeling the cool metal cross the bottoms of her bare feet with each casual stride.

The dark brown dye of her hair, temporary in nature, was already starting to fade. Her true ginger hinted its revival like autumn leaves in the undergrowth. Much like Lirssa was struggling to revive her life with half of it missing.

True, she had been overwhelmed by Canaan’s edict that she would be the youth director and an instructor at the studio, but she also had not hesitated or demurred or questioned. With Moxie gone, this new employment was a windfall. Sure, she had known of the studio before she was gone, but it had been something she would help with as much as Canaan needed. Now, she needed it.

But more than that, Canaan continuing to work for his dreams despite the outrageous setback he had encountered -- which still irked Lirssa to no end on his behalf -- was another splash of good in the container of her soul, lifting her spirits. A lift that was countered by a draining every time she allowed herself to think of her ship and not being able to fly again.

So, she rose very early that morning, much to Aric’s protestations that she should take it slow and not be so eager to return to her hectic schedule. Lirssa supposed he thought that without her ship, there wouldn’t be such ghastly early wakings. She did not point out to him that he fell back asleep before she was out the door. It was their routine. What they did. He grumbled. She laughed. He slept. She left.

Two moons were determined to get their full run even as dawn paled the sky, dimming their power. Lirssa walked to RhyDin Center for Circus Arts, chin tucked down into the raspberry scarf, enjoying the crisp morning. At the staff door, she looked at the key in her hand as the grin took a twist into anxious anticipation, unlocked the door, and took care of the security requirements -- secular and mystical.

The building, with its volume, punctuated all her steps as she toured the hallways and rooms once more. Like other areas of performance, she wanted to get familiar with the building entirely. Staff room, Canaan’s office, the connecting hallways between the rooms, the windows, doors, and at last her office.

Dropping her satchel, glad she had left the gift from Mr Mason and Doc Eva behind on her last trip, she stepped over to her desk. The bracelet Mrs Koy had given her years ago dangled at her wrist as fingers traced over folders neatly labeled for their contents: schedules, costs, students, employees, purchase orders, and customer feedback. This was her responsibility.

And the enormity of that drove spikes down her back, steeling herself to the challenge and determining not to fail her mentor. That meant jumping in with both feet. When did she ever do less than?

But she was not ready to sit at a desk yet. She needed to think and that meant movement. Instinct took her to the landing railing just outside her office to pace. It was there Ken and Katelyn, brother and sister, found her.

Perhaps not the best impression she could have made upon first meeting. Certainly not incredibly professional. On the other hand, they should just get used to her eccentricities now. With a smile, she hopped down from the rail and offered her hand out to Kate and then Ken. “I’m Lirssa. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, boss,” Ken chuckled.

“Just Lirssa,” she laughed softly in kind, “or Lir, or hey you. Sorta not terribly formal, but buck stops with me, right? Or, I suppose Canaan, but I’d rather he not have to deal with this side of things. I’m sure you’ve noticed that kids make him...well, let’s just say -- hey, do you know who Captain Picard is?”

The blank looks she got answered that, and still she went right ahead with the analogy. “Right, we should have a showing, but he was in charge of this killer awesome ship -- it’s from the flicker shows and, err, television -- and while he was super smart and charming, he was just pants with kids. So, he had his Number One, that’d be Riker, be the one dealing with the kids on his ship. This is Canaan’s ship, he’s the captain, and I’m his Number One.”

Kate giggled, whether it was at Lirssa’s deluge of words or the comparison was unknown, but nodded. “Works for me. Got a chance to see what classes you want to take over?”

They all walked into Lirssa’s office where Kate pulled out a bottle of grape juice from her duffle bag to set on Lirssa’s desk. With Lirssa’s brows up, green eyes wide in dismay, Kate just shrugged. “We asked around.”

“Wanted you to feel like you’d been here from the start,” Ken added.

“Thank you,” Lirssa said, both touched and a little guilty that she had not done the same. Rushing past her embarrassment, she finally answered Kate. “Nothing this first week. I want to look over what is already in place, see how the students interact with the instructors, and see where I can fit in. I plan on taking up one of the adult classes, too. Also want to see if any more advertising needs to happen and maybe some joint endeavors, like with the theater groups and schools.”

Kate and Ken had their turn to look dismayed, though they were grinning. Evidently the ideas, even in their formative stages, didn’t alarm them. As they headed back down the stairs, Ken called over his shoulder, “We’re going to put our gear away, and then meet back here to go over today’s routine?”

Taking up the bottle of juice, Lirssa lifted it with another nod of thanks and confirmation of the plan as the pair walked from the studio.

Lirssa looked out over the studio and whispered. “Course set. Engage.”
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Cirque du Soliel contortionist -- skills similar to Lirssa's

"Anyone can handle a bad girl. It's the good girls men should be warned against." - David Niven
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