Logs:AU - Wanted
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| RL Date: 27 July, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: An exercise in the importance of approach and timing. What might have happened instead. |
| Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, month 5, turn 35 |
| Weather: A layer of patchy clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today. |
| Mentions: Jadzia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: AU! Back-dated. Many thanks to Quinlys for being willing to re-play and then being flexible to let the original stand. |
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| Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl. A layer of patchy clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
G'laer has never been one of Quinlys' favorite people. Not even after he, so touchingly, gave her a treasured keepsake of their shared childhood experiences. Now, Quinlys sees him several times a seven in the professional setting of the weyrling area, where Teisyth struggles to contain herself, and G'laer grows ever quieter; some might even say broodier, though he follows instructions quite well. She had a break from him for a seven while he was ill, but now he seems largely recovered. He approaches the Weyrlingmaster's table with a pair of steaming mugs. They're both off duty, so his greeting is more casual than it might otherwise be, "Is this seat taken?" One of the empty ones at her table. "I brought klah," in case that sweetens the offer. Those dark red lashes flutter open again, blue eyes lifting up towards the interloper who has - so very rudely - disrupted her afternoon. Rude or no, her expression is resigned rather than annoyed; she gestures vaguely towards the empty chair, drawing her foot down off of the surface of the table and towards the ground. "Free as a bird," she says. "What do you want?" The words aren't as clipped as they could be: she has agreed to his presence, so clearly she'll hear him out. The greenrider places both mugs on the table, sliding one toward her as he seats himself across the way. "I'm struggling." It's put simply. His eyes dart briefly toward the bowl where Teisyth is settled not far from the stairs. "We're struggling." He corrects. "With our jobs." Both of them. "We're not sure how to fix it. You're my boss," one of them, "so I was hoping you might help." It's delivered very candidly, though without much emotion. Immediately, there's something mournful in Quinlys' expression; there goes her afternoon off. But her lips purse together, and she reaches out to take that mug, never mind the beer she's also got there. She draws in a long, deep breath, exhales, and finally nods. "Talk to me," she says. "Tell me what's going on." It's one of her teacher tricks: make the subject do as much of the talking as possible. It takes G'laer a moment. He must've thought about what he would say before approaching her, but maybe now his words seem not quite right, and he does like to use the right words to say what he means. "I thought we had things to offer as an assistant, but it feels like the challenges that we face as a pairing outweigh what we bring to the table to the point that it might be better if we weren't at the table at all. I didn't ask for the job to become an annoyance to you and your people. I asked for the job because I want to do it well." It's a start. He can also add, "It's also pretty difficult to manage duties with Alpine and duties in the barracks without running myself ragged." As evidenced by his illness. "And backing off on duties in the barracks doesn't make much sense since that's the job I want to do, but I likewise can't slack on my duties with Alpine." Which makes it complicated, see? Quinlys is silent for a few long seconds after G'laer's words; her brows knit. "I'm trying," she says, after a moment, "To work this all through. Which isn't to say that I'm not aware of the situation. Or that something needs to change. But," she twirls a strand of red hair around her finger, then shakes it free. "You're right that the challenges between you and Teisyth are a potential concern. What would you do, if you were in my position?" "That would depend on if I wanted to keep us." If he were in her position. "If I didn't want to, I'd cut us loose; save everyone time and headaches. If I wanted to keep us, I'd work with us, and maybe even cut us a little slack. Or at least her." G'laer's eyes turn to his lifemate; his sweet, too-innocent lifemate. "She means well." This comes quietly, almost tenderly, and an even softer sigh after before any expression is hidden behind the rim of his klah mug. Quinlys lifts that klah mug to her mouth, now, blowing on the contents in a distracted kind of way. "She means well," she agrees, finally. "But I also have to think about the weyrlings - about their well-being. She needs to not rile them up; especially while they're so very young." She licks her lips, then drags her teeth over the skin. "I'm not unwilling to work with you, with both of you," she continues. "But you need to work with me, too." G'laer is silent some long moments. "Quinlys, if you don't want to work with me, then we're wasting our time. I'm not an easy man to get along with under the best of circumstances, and failing is not the best of circumstances." It's more honesty, without any kind of sweetening. "I want to work with you. If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked for a job working under you. I want us to get better; but the answer isn't just sending her away, but if you don't actively want us to be successful, I can't see us really being successful. We're only half the equation for a fulfilling working relationship." Silently, Quinlys bristles. "If I wasn't willing to work with you," she repeats, "I wouldn't have given you a trial. And if you really do want to work with me, you need to stop implying that I am sabotaging you. Because I'm not cool with that; this situation we're in is not all my fault." Her voice is low, but firm rather than angry. "I don't set people up to fail. And I don't risk my weyrlings with people I don't think can do the job." "Hang on." Hold up. Woah. "I'm not implying any of that." A frown has snuck its way onto G'laer's lips. "I'm saying there's a difference between being willing and wanting to. And that I realize Teisyth and I together represent a variety of challenges and that it's going to take effort on both our parts. And by that, I mean I'm going to be asking you to take time out of your already weyrling-filled schedule to work with us to improve, so if you don't want to work with us, I don't think it's going to work because I don't think we can get there on our own; we've been trying since we graduated and have made very little headway." Quinlys, her hackles already roused, gives G'laer a dubious glance, though she lets her shoulders drop back to a more normal level: she's trying to cool her temper. "Look," she says, finally. "I'm willing to-- all right. Let's give this a trial. You can join my team, though you'll still be on a wingrider's stipend while you're in training. And you will be in training. And I want you to find an outside mentor; I'll do what I can, but my weyrlings have to come first. But if we don't see improvement, we'll have to review this. It can't go on indefinitely." G'laer's return look is not dubious. Not even a little, but it's not as guarded as it usually is. It might even seem human. "That sounds reasonable. Do you have any recommendations for who might be a suitable mentor?" Obviously since weyrlings get mentors, Quinlys probably knows more wise and helpful people than he does off the top of his head. "I can give you a list," says Quinlys, finally, after just a beat or two longer than may be polite. She sets down the klah mug, idly rubbing at her shoulder (which is faintly blue; it's colder than she's pretending it is, out here). "It'll be up to them whether they're willing to take you on, of course, but... someone will be willing to, I'm sure." She hesitates, regarding G'laer thoughtfully for a moment. "Don't fuck this up. I'm the one who ends up getting egg on her face when my assistants fuck up." "Thank you." G'laer responds politely in contrast, not pressing the point, but surely it would be better if he had a Quinlys-sanctioned mentor than just someone he chooses? If he were more polite, he'd offer her his coat; but they're not as friendly as he and Telavi, yet. "I have a decent track record with not fucking things up, at least professionally. And I am trying." In case this needs to be said aloud. He did make himself sick trying to do it well after all. "There's one other thing." Quinlys is distracted from that main point but that last comment: that one other thing. "What?" she prompts. "What is it?" "Back in Crom, I was Jadzia's indirect superior." It's matter-of-fact. "I let Teisyth Search her because she will make a damn fine rider." G'laer doesn't swear often, so that he does now marks the strength of his conviction. "I had her removed from the guard because she has a problem with authority and in the man's world of the Crom guard, that would've gotten her raped, beaten, or worse before too long, and I didn't want that for her." He pauses briefly, "I'm told that was selfish and not my right, but it's done now. I just thought you should know that we have a history." Quinlys's lip curls slightly; she's had enough run-ins with Jadzia, now that they are subordinate and superior, that clearly she can believe all of this. That said, she's equally clearly disapproving of G'laer's actions over the now-brownrider and the guard. "She has a problem with authority, and so isn't suitable for the Crom guard, but that's a-ok for a High Reaches dragonrider?" Pause. "Don't answer that. It hardly matters now, does it? But. That means you should stay away from her, as much as possible. Don't make things worse; she's got enough problems without having run-ins with you." G'laer has an answer, oh yes he does. But Quinlys is his boss, so when she says 'don't answer that,' he doesn't. Instead, he answers her instruction. "I think everyone would prefer that. I don't intend to create issues for her. Especially now. I know what it is to have a weyrling dragon." They all do. He takes a long draw from his klah mug before rising. "By your leave?" Not that he fancies she'd want him to stay on. Quinlys's nod is slow and silent, and followed quickly by an idle wave of her hand: he's dismissed. She has an afternoon off to rescue. |
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