Logs:Accidents Happen (Way to go, Dee.)

Accidents Happen (Way to go, Dee.)
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RL Date: 13 September, 2015
Who: Dee, Ebeny, Besmernyth, Laurienth, Taeliyth, Tovriath, Vhaeryth, Wroth
Involves: Fort Weyr, Southern Weyr
Type: Log
What: On Ebeny and Laurienth's watch, Taeliyth and Dee have a little, totally non-catastrophic accident on their first jump between which lands them in Southern Weyr; some dragons are less than thrilled in different ways.
Where: Bowl, Fort Weyr and Southern Weyr
When: Day 21, Month 10, Turn 38 (Interval 10)

Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, Paislie/Mentions, Zennia/Mentions




Having already lost one weyrling to Between in recent months, it can be little surprise that the weyrlingstaff have not let the younger class' first jumps turn into a spectator sport, be it by their older classmates and other peers, or curious wingleaders and others of rank already with eyes on which weyrlings their want for their respective wings. Today, Laurienth is the more composed of Weyrlingmaster and green, and sits curled up, feline-like, a short way from where Ebeny stands and awaits the next candidates to test visualisation and Between skills, in quick succession if secure, and turned away if not. Dee's genuine commitment and effort to her studies, weyrling, goldrider, Fortian and otherwise, can't have gone unnoticed by those who have been teaching her. She's not perfect, of course, but she's devoted herself to every task set before her since Hattie took up the Weyrwoman's knot again. Approaching the visuals for betweening has been no different. With a month of practice on the home visualizations, Dee has reason to be confident but betweening is daunting enough a thing to engender caution too, and that much shows in her serious expression as Taeliyth and she make their approach to the Weyrlingmaster pair this morning. "Ma'am," is respectful greeting, and Taeliyth offers something similarly tempered in the cool brush of her mind meant to signal to Laurienth that she is present and prepared. Whether or not it's something she does to all the weyrlings, of her own volition or at her rider's insistence Laurienth is businesslike in her crisp demand of Taeliyth, her request for the image of, « Home. » It cannot be a coincidence that this is the same moment that Ebeny chooses to answer Dee with a bob of her head and, "Are you ready?" in what's a not so subtle attempt to distract her. "Making your first jump is inevitable, but if you're not of a mind to try today, you've got until the end of the seven. Some prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but that's not always best decision for everyone." The image is drawn to mind for Laurienth. For once, there's no trace of Taeliyth in the touch of her mind. The image has been scrubbed of the way Taeliyth might think of herself within the image and is simply the look of the Fortian bowl from a sufficient height for jumping in. Taeliyth does not hide that she pulls the image from Dee's mind as the one of the pair with the steadier and longer memory. It's part of what riders are forafter all. Dee's distraction is only a matter of splitting her focus, the nod coming just the slightest hint late as she calls the image for Taeliyth to take. "Yes, ma'am, we think so." Certainly, they're willing to yield to the Weyrlingmaster's superior experience in these matters though and Dee gives a curious look between gold and green. "We've practiced the visualizations a lot. Here, the Hold, and Fort Sea." Those they've been instructed to memorize. Taeliyth's mind briefly holds the sense that she's ready to whip any of those images from Dee's mind to offer to Laurienth if only she asks. (Somedragon's a little more confident (and eager) than her rider; try her is the unspoken dare.) When Laurienth accepts the image, her inspection of it is less about accuracy and more about clarity; she leaves the former to her rider and chooses not to pass comment (she never is terribly good at praise) on it, except to try and draw Taeliyth's attention to the section of the image in which the star stones sit, as the unchanging element of the construction. Ebeny lets her play her part without acknowledging what's going on, as if she doesn't know at all, until her unnecessarily rambling 'get out clause' reaches its end and she can take onboard both Dee's answer and Laurienth's approval without further ado or theatrics. "A single jump, from this end of the bowl to the other," she explains (repeats) just to be clear. "Don't get cocky and jump again, high on success. Caution is necessary, now more than ever." "Yes, ma'am," are two words that carry the weight of one who understands the pressure upon her. Dee's not just in a position where she needs to get this right, but she's in a position where she and Taeliyth need to get everything right. She looks to Taeliyth. The dragon's mood is lighter than her riders but still colored by her deeply rooted connection to this place and the awareness she holds for the protection the canopy of her Woods will one day offer the Weyr. One day. But that day isn't today. Today is about betweening and with Ebeny's leave, Dee moves to her dragon, pulling down her goggles and adjusting her well-worn gloves. A once-over is given to straps that have already been thoroughly checked this morning, buckles are carefully done once she's mounted. Once they're settled, Taeliyth communicates as much to Laurienth and waits for the signal to rise and to wing high into the bowl. Laurienth has barely moved, all this time, and now Ebeny slowly tracks her way back to her, to stand near and yet without touching, or without any open acknowledgement passing between them. For all that they outwardly appear to ignore each other, the lift of the greenrider's arm is in unison with the mental nudge that Laurienth delivers, each silent permission to take wing. It's not so long later, once the gold and her rider are in the air, that the Weyrlingmaster's lifemate demands, « Home, » again, no less gently than before, though there's the unspoken expectation that she expects the same standard as minutes ago. Taeliyth is very nearly bored. She doesn't have much effort to hide it either. It's not cockiness, so much as self-assurance. She shares the image again, clear enough to be Fort but an image that doesn't get so specific as to create unwanted trouble for the jumper. She manages, just barely, to be patient in awaiting Laurienth's direction to make the attempt. As one who has never been accomplished at censoring themselves, Laurienth doesn't manage to conceal the sense of a mental roll of her eyes, whether meant for Taeliyth or supposed to have been for her rider and shared inadvertently across the open channel. « Go, » is a low huff, not dismissive, for she continues to watch the spot in the sky that the young gold occupies, but plainly unimpressed by her impatience. It was known that the weyrlings would be making their first betweening attempts this month, but the exact whens of who weren't much commented upon. This morning has been treated like any other day. Taeliyth's slender form climbing above the bowl and finding a steady pocket of sky to hover in. It could continue to be any other morning save for the fact that in the heartbeat before the wheaten gold vanishes into the cold of between there's a flash of surprise followed by annoyance and just the tiniest hint of panic before commitment can be felt and then nothing. Nothing. For heartbeats. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... Too many for the expected reappearance on the other side of the bowl. Too many. (To Fort dragons from Taeliyth) To Fort dragons, Wroth notices that expanded time in an idle way. He doesn't panic. Really, he might not even care. There is not the nothing that would signal a fate that would cause concern. Evenso, he leans in and waits. To Fort dragons, Laurienth is never afraid, and so she bypasses that stage of matters completely and goes straight to an all-consuming fury that isn't directed at the vanished gold, but is an instinctive response to whatever has happened to her, to swallow down and banish anything that could resemble fear. Her screech of strings is accompanied by unladylike bellow of a roar and a single demand: « Taeliyth? » From his ledge, so very high on the bowl wall as to be nearly the rim, Besmernyth has watched the comings and goings of all the dragons - but most keenly that of the weyrlings. There is a noticable pique in his cool presence as the young gold climbs, and he retreats away as she goes, as not to be a distraction. There is a certainty to him, that she will be fine. One that wanes, at five, six, seven, eight. In a flash-freeze he withdraws, and his mind pulls from the weyr, seeks out beyond Wroth's tension and Laurienth's banshee shrieks. Wordless, his wolves run to the corners of his mind, slender snouts to the ground, to the sky with a certainty: she will not be gone. (To Fort dragons from Besmernyth) It's difficult for Tovriath to be completely at ease with the disappearance of the young queen. He's tense, pensive, as the smokey tendrils of his mind reach out for Taeliyth as if he could somehow draw her out of between himself. (To Fort dragons from Tovriath) Annoyance is paramount when Taeliyth's presence manifests in a way that signals she's still with this world. Panic? Only a smidge; mostly it's a shaking out that sees her getting her bearings, images flashing in quick succession - buildings sprawling, canopy, beaches, foreignness yet intense familiarity. « We're in Southern, » is her moment of revelation before she bends that annoyance on her rider. This isn't where they're supposed to be. Way to go, Dee. « Dee says it's the Weyr she was born in. Isyath-- » She breaks off as, no doubt, the young queen is juggling a lot of things at once. It's on Laurienth that she finally manages to focus, « Should we come home now? » There's something extra pissed about the word 'home'. A word that leaks the knowledge that she and her rider have different definitions for. (To Fort dragons from Taeliyth) It's Laurienth's rage that first alerts the napping Vhaeryth (oiled for what might have been the seventh time this sevenday): a quick glint waking, looking. And then, better. (To Fort dragons from Vhaeryth) To Fort dragons, Wroth flares up at Laurienth's shrieks, his own take on the situation amplified by his mate's anger. « They are alive » he assures all of the dragon's that have been 'listening'. « Foolish » That is meant for the gold's young rider. « She should be punished. » His logic is enhanced by a roll of thunder and the crackle of lightening. To Fort dragons, Laurienth is gone, followed after, less than a minute after that response, her rider without all gear in place and straps not all buckled securely, but they vanish so quickly that the time they spend in the air is looking to be minimal already. « No, » is meant for Taeliyth, yet inadvertently shared beyond her mental presence, single syllable snapped out, for it's all she seems capable of in the moment before they disappear. Besmernyth's wolves stop in their tracks, noses to the sky, and their skeletal forms quake with a relief he squashes - they all lie down in his snowy wasteland, their ears pricked to the conversation. « Yes, certainly, » comes his rolling response to Wroth's suggestion, and the unshakable feeling that he thinks the brown is equally as foolish, and the weyrlingmaster pair and the danger their straps impose as they, too, disappear. « For making a smaller mistake than the one their dam made. » But he's withdrawing, internalizing, now that they are safe. (To Fort dragons from Besmernyth) Southern. Tovriath focuses intensely on the gold, perhaps even somewhat territorially, but he withdraws some moments later from the collective of Fort Weyr. (To Fort dragons from Tovriath) The dismissive snort from Taeliyth answers Wroth's 'suggestion' and thunder. Her temper is already peaked by this experience and she's not feeling very patient with his thunder and lightning. Defensiveness is there as well as a sense that only Taeliyth gets to punish Taeliyth's rider (even if that's not really true). At least Taeliyth seems to heed Laurienth's instruction and more than that she has the presence of mind to at least distantly offer the Weyr the reassurance of her presence by way of the earthy scent of Woods in autumn and the sound of leaves as they flutter to the ground. (To Fort dragons from Taeliyth) Taeliyth circles slowly in the sky above Southern Weyr, using each wing beat as a measure to regain composure lost in the mistake. To Tovriath, Taeliyth's mind's focus splits at the intensity of Tovriath's and with only shades of temper still shaking the occasional leaf free of a branch, she reaches for him; what does Tovriath need? She's here. Alive. With a stupid, idiot rider, but alive. Fine. To Fort dragons, Wroth is dismissive as he fades from the awareness of the Weyr's dragons. Let the others fuss over it. She is safe. How the rest unfolds is not his problem. That feel of Laurienth and Ebeny's unpreparedness to follow was not forgotten and there is no trace of his usual crackle as he asks, « Are you safe? » Perhaps Laurienth's (Ebeny's) image for Southern is all that different from that which Taeliyth has ended up using, for she and her rider appear in the skies almost directly above the Weyr and on not so dissimilar a vector as the gold might have initially been on. « Land in the bowl, » she tells her, unable to find the manners to make it a request, while the Weyrlingmaster leans a little dangerously to try and get a decent look at Dee before either of them begin a descent. Just as Laurienth is never afraid, she always tells the truth. « Yes. » Is she safe? Are they okay? There's no sense of any belief that either matter in this moment, her answer for Wroth as inadvertently off-hand as her word for the gold was curt. (To Fort dragons from Laurienth) Taeliyth angles toward the landing field at Laurienth's direction, her movements all the more careful in the wake of this mistake. It's difficult to say what Dee's expression is given the riding gear, but she's not smiling for all that it's the first time she's seen home in far too many months. « Isyath says we are welcome here but Ali is busy just now, » busy in a way that seems to mean unavailable and uninterruptible. Taeliyth volunteers the information blandly; her emotions getting locked down much in the way they once did after a nightmare and subsequent leak of feeling to her Weyr. It's some long moments before Tovriath acknowledges the gold and there's some muted sense that he's distracted by his own rider's anxiety. « G'vri wants to know if she needs us. » If Dee needs them. Not Taeliyth. She clearly doesn't from their perspective. The bronze, regardless, seems somewhat more at ease knowing the young gold is safe. (To Taeliyth from Tovriath) Laurienth waits until she and Ebeny are sure that Taeliyth is heading for that square of land that serves much the same purpose as the patch of Fort's bowl that they've so recently left behind before she begins her own dive down towards the ground, her descent one that brings her a little too near to clipping the Weyrhall. She lands heavily, weight thrown forward in a manner that forces Ebeny to grip her straps, yet this doesn't prevent her from being thrown to one side, a motion that she pretends is simply her swinging to clamber down what straps are in place. "What happened?" the Weyrlingmaster asks, once her feet are on steady ground. She folds her arms so that she doesn't reach, either for Dee or for Taeliyth. Besmernyth sends only one sentry to Taeliyth: that black and blind bird, a fluttering of thinning feathers on the corner of her peripheries the way one wonders if they turned the oven on, or locked the door. It contrasts less starkly in her autumnal wood than it does the pristine backdrop of the mind that sent it, and hovers politely around a viable perch, niggling but not terribly insistant. It will not be a hard thing to banish, if she is so very taken by her current company - though there is a sense that it is not there for anything but comfort. Of sorts. (To Taeliyth from Besmernyth) Dee's hands work across the buckles that secure her safely into Taeliyth's straps, undoing them one by one before moving to dismount and face the Weyrlingmaster. As her helmet and goggles are removed, the signs of fatigue become apparent in Dee's expression. Sure, there was a slight darkness under her eyes before, the sort that isn't unusual for hard-working weyrlings not getting quite enough sleep, but in the wake of the brief panic shared by the gold pair, she looks exhausted. "I'm--" Not sure. Dee is trying to think but she has to close her eyes to do it. "We had the visualization of the bowl. Taeliyth said something about home, Laurienth said 'go' and we went, only somehow I was-- we were suddenly thinking of what here looks like from the sky." She bites her lower lip, not saying the one word that is so complex in the here and now: 'home.' It's some moments before Taeliyth has an answer for him; her presence is still there, but distracted. « Dee says he'd best wait until we find out if we're coming back now or not. Give Ebeny time to scold us and figure out what happened. » Since both seem inevitable, one of more interest to the young gold than the other. « Tell him she's okay. Nervous now because of where we ended up, but-- it was a good jump, » something in her seems sure of this, « just wrong. » Oopsie daisy. (To Tovriath from Taeliyth) The lack of contrast is only a seeming thing; perhaps this is the moment where Besmernyth becomes aware that Taeliyth's Wood, for all the life that is in it, her own vibrancy and darkness incarnate, there are no natural beasts here, no flutter of bird's wings, just the Wood and the secrets it hides behind bramble and branch. « We didn't make whatever mistake Mom did. » This much is said, needs to be said, as he already said, but now so has she. « It was just wrong. The wrong home. » She's annoyed with herself for depending so much on the image her rider held for her, but... nothing she can do about that now. (To Besmernyth from Taeliyth) "From her reaction, I'm going to take it that this wasn't deliberate, otherwise we might be having a very different conversation right now," Ebeny sighs out wearily, not so bright-eyed and healthy-looking right now herself, her features still blanched ghostly pale. "...And we'd best not go into the whys just yet, or at all with some people, otherwise I can see things getting even more complicated for you..." she murmurs. Behind her, Laurienth is making a very good effort to keep the facets of her gaze an angry shade of orange, yet paler shades and worried yellows keep creeping in. "Whatever the case, you can't go..." home, "back to Fort right now, and if either of you get it into your heads to attempt it, I'll have Isyath monitor you. It's not safe. Not... now." There's no argument from the bronze that her jump was a good one. It would be impressive, in fact, if she'd meant to do it. « Very well. If you, » where 'you' includes both Taeliyth and her rider, « have any need for us, let us know. We'll come. » (To Taeliyth from Tovriath) The bird settles, eventually. Three feathers fall away to land in her wood, and it doesn't seem to notice; it is, after all, simply a gateway for Besmernyth himself, and he is careful not to freeze anything that does not belong to him, lest he give her cause to turn her annoyance on him. He doesn't often tread lightly, and there is a touch of relief for her - her presence, her continued existance, her acceptance of his offered solace. « You did not. It is nothing to punish. You just...startled. » He brushes away her annoyance. « You will just be more careful next time. She will be too. » (To Taeliyth from Besmernyth) "No, ma'am," is very firm, "I didn't want to-- I haven't seen my parents since the hatching and--" There's a bit of a gulp there and the sudden threat of tears. Dee shuts her eyes against all those things that are only unknowingly related to the here and now. Taeliyth is the more observant of the two, and it is she who directs to Laurienth with a measure of authority that some people might complain she doesn't have a right to, « Is Ebeny well? » The annoyance has faded in Taeliyth's own eyes, the fear not even there when Laurienth came through, if indeed there was ever any. Taeliyth can be afraid, but it's got to be a good reason and a silly little (big) misjump might not have been reason enough. Dee bites her lower lip. "Not going back means I'll have to see them," it's more to herself than others. Indeed, they're probably fortunate that Dee's parents must be either away or otherwise engaged or the would surely be here by now. Even so, there are some Southerners beginning to gather at a respectable distance - some just to see, and others looking at Dee like they've got a more personal reason to be here. « I did not, » is denial that taps right into Taeliyth's annoyance - that feeling he's trying to brush away. She prickles, thorns growing among the brambles. « She just thought of home. And she's wrong. » Beat. Sniff. « The beaches are pretty, » is added grudgingly. But pretty beaches aren't the same as being home. Real home. Fort. (To Besmernyth from Taeliyth) « She's fine, » Laurienth declares, her response to Taeliyth's enquiry immediate and without a shred of doubt, her insistence fierce and unyielding. She watches Ebeny closely, as they both clock those gradually encroaching southerners, and it's not particularly clear whether it's the threat of tears from Dee or the appearance of an audience that launches the greenrider to take steps towards the weyrling, arms unknotting to finally let herself reach, her intent to touch arm or shoulder and begin guiding her charge towards the Weyrhall. "Come on," she murmurs. "Stand tall. You're a weyrwoman." Not yet, but. "This was meant, for all most of them know. For all most of them have to know. We'll get you some sweet tea or something stronger, then you can come back for Taeliyth's straps and we'll go and see if Ali is still occupied." To Taeliyth, Besmernyth's quick to correct, « Startled us, little one. Put away your claws. » And even so, « I don't care much for the sun, that way; it shines differently than in the mountains here, or even Benden. But perhaps it would not hurt you terribly to see it through her eyes, to understand it even. It is part of who you chose, after all. You cannot easily erase it. » To Tovriath, Taeliyth's sass surfaces briefly and then drowns under more serious feeling. « We will let you know. » "A trip home," Dee manages to only sound choked briefly, one hand rising to scrub across her face. Just fatigue, right? Not the threat of tears. At least the tears don't seem to materialize. "Ali," the young woman echoes, nodding, "I've never met her personally." It's a sidenote. The turn that she takes to orient herself toward the Weyrhall has her taking in a circling green, "... and my mother." Two daunting women, but there's no choice but to move forward, and so she does, step by step, seeming easier for the guiding hand on her shoulder. To Besmernyth, Taeliyth's riled temper doesn't seem inclined to back off on the thorns, but then, she's young. « Perhaps. » It's allowed with trepidation. « We're safe, » at any rate. « Just stupid. » She sighs. Stupid again. It's the worst. Her touch fades, the better to focus herself on the matters at hand as Dee prepares to take her next step as a one-day weyrwoman. To Taeliyth, Besmernyth chuckles, whuffing a sigh of breath that scatters snow her way. « Better luck, Taeliyth. When you return, I will bring you any beast you'd like. » And then the raven goes, not willing to overstay its welcome in this unfamiliar place when it has clearly been dismissed. "She's lovely." Or such is Ebeny's opinion of Ali, despite the fact that it might not immediately paint the most intimidating or respectful creature. "I'm sure she'll let you borrow or give you anything you need, if your family don't have any of your things anymore." Plainly, she doesn't like to assume at this point, or is incapable of thinking in straight enough lines to do so, though she manages to banish most of the tremors from her hands. "Everything will be fine." Or it will be if she and Laurienth have anything to do with it, even if it isn't 'their' Weyr in which to fuss about anything or anyone at all. Maybe there's something to be said for having trained said Weyr's goldriders... Surprise for Southern The morning of day 21, month 10 should've been just another day in Fort Weyr, but mid-morning Taeliyth and Dee, under the watchful eye of Ebeny and Laurienth, vanished into between high above the bowl, sending a ripple of concern through the Weyr when the gold pair didn't reappear on the other end of the bowl as they ought to have for their first attempt. It was quickly sorted out that Dee and Taeliyth had somehow ended up above Dee's native Southern Weyr and the Weyrlingmaster was quick to pursue. Fortian dragons paying attention would've felt Taeliyth's surprise and annoyance at finding herself in Southern which leads to the idea that it was a mistake, and yet those in Southern are acting like it was just a surprise visit by the young goldrider to finally get her affairs in order. What is known for sure is that Dee is spending a seven in Southern with Ali's blessing and daily visits by Ebeny and at least one of her assistants, bringing the important lessons to her (like visualizations home, for example).