Logs:Anamnesis
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| RL Date: 12 October, 2015 |
| Who: Alida |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: After over half a week of near-constant activity after his death, Alida finds a moment to consider R'hin from a different perspective. |
| Where: Alida's Rest and Relaxation Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Snow showers. |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions |
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| Ilicaeth's tack hung upon its proper pegs, the blue's slightly-itchy belly well-oiled, her own riding gear stored in its proper place, Alida found just enough physical energy left to re-stoke the hearth fire, make herself some tea, and flop down tiredly onto her couch. In time with her free hand's idle stokes of Pyrite's splayed, snoozing form, the woman found her unruly mind yet again returning to the circumstances of R'hin's untimely demise. She wasn't allowed (like just about everyone else) to get any closer to the tent than Crom's guard would allow her, even though one of them 'recognized' her as a former 'fellow,' let her pass somewhat close-by without giving Alida the same 'saber rattling' he and his compatriots did to so many others as they guarded the scene. Clear, hard green eyes analyzed every bit of information they could pick out at the scene, and keen ears took in whatever milling holders, crafters, other Weyrfolk were willing to venture about the accused murder(er), the bluerider even going so far as to track down some of the more 'believable' of the information she gleaned to the Monaco region (though she dared not show her presence at the southern-based Weyr, of course), the Greenfields region, and - of course -at High Reaches Weyr, itself. Ilicaeth applied himself to the task with fervor, as well, utilizing his far-flung friendships/warm acquaintances with many other dragons to listen in, share information, and even pick brains. They had 'ideas' and intense suppositions, but they weren't *facts*. But, without her former guard contacts, without full access to all the methods and minds of her 'craft,' Alida didn't have enough to make a fully informed decision, on her own... and it *irked* her. No; actually, it frustrated her, sometimes even *hurt* her, especially after knowing what her two friends were going through because of R'hin's death...what *she* was going through because of it. For, no matter they'd not been truly close, the smart-ass, former Wingleader of Savannah had touched the often inviolable bluerider in his own way, and she considered him a decent person with sound experience to share. And someone she still respected right down to her bones. Over and over, Alida's tired mind tried to process all the details about the crime in even the most fractionally-different ways, looking for some permutation that might've eluded her earlier...until she wound up with a small headache and a nearly empty mug. Even Pyrite had finally, irritably cheeped away her human's touch as too brisk to be comforting, after awhile. Sighing tiredly, darkly to herself - unable to perform even one more set of aggravating mental gymnastics over the crime - Alida suddenly found her thick brain flashing back to the conversation she and R'hin had had only a couple of months earlier, in his weyr. There'd nearly always been a reason behind his words, and he had been 'gracious' (a-ha-ha) to actually give her some at least semi-direct words of advice, then: "Even the anti social need someone now and then. To, you know, give them a reality check, remind them not to be a dick, etcetera." "R'hin believes that Alida is here for some other purpose she has yet to give herself the courage to address yet." He'd even frankly answered some of her pointed inquiries about his own past: "So, what'd the young R'hin do ta deal better with the anger, frustration...the 'system?'" "Fucked, a lot. Fucked up, more. Had people who were -- who could help me get my head straight." But the one Alida's quagmiring brain kept returning to again and again, as if it had been chiseled deep into the stone of her mind, were, "You're a guard," he'd spoken bluntly. "You haven't shaken that." Her instant, from the hip response had been, "Why would I *wanna* be anything other than a guard..." "Why would you, indeed," he'd agreed blithely. Only now, with her rational sense evading her out of near-exhaustion, and with her heart feeling just as much as her mind did, could Alida more fully understand where the 'ol man' had been coming from, and it made her tired green eyes blink open, stare at her mantlepiece. Why, indeed. Of *course* she'd always be a guard in enough respects. She was born and bred into it, indoctrinated and spoon-fed the mantra of that 'craft' since birth. She loved it deeply, for all its flaws and the terrible 'shortcomings' of too many of those that'd been her fellow guardsmen at Pars. It was in her very bones. But so were some other things, things she'd only 'recently' started to try and nurture again...things that meant just as much to the blonde, but had been relegated to the back burner, or even the scrap heap: Music, which her dam had encouraged, opened her up to even earlier than her sire had guarding. A glance over to her case-enclosed guitar - her *mother's* guitar - sent a strange pang through her heart, made Ilicaeth croon from his couch. Relationships... something she'd had a knack at building when very young, and had mostly abandoned as a teen after too many bad experiences with nepotism, corruption, and just shitty luck. And yes, some of those losses and pains *had* been her own fault, primarily. Even now, the thoughts of such made her wince. R'hin's own voice - a voice she sadly knew she'd forget over the Turns, just as she'd forgotten the exact sound of her mother's, father's voices, even the exact voices of those that had truly wronged her - proclaimed to her only in mind, now: "Even the anti social need someone now and then. To, you know, give them a reality check, remind them not to be a dick, etcetera... Ought to work on that..." "Yes..." the bluerider groaned out in a mix of sudden understanding, tiredness, and bullheaded irritation...the lattermost at the idea of having to shift her own stance on life. Lunging up bonelessly from the couch, the slightly-stooped blonde gritted her teeth, growled softly, and finally sighed out onto the warmer air of her weyr, " Up yers, ol' man. *If* I change, I do it at my own fucking pace." The departed bronzerider now properly snarled at for continuing to test and vex her - even in death - Alida shuffled slowly towards her bed - only suddenly remembering to snag her mug, lift it up on the air in a toast, and drink the rest of her cool tea down, the taste of its herbs disguising the hints of salty tears she was unwilling to shed. "Thanks, R'hin. Hope ya' rest easier than the rest uv' us." |
Comments
Jo (21:59, 12 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
I'm finding it interesting the different perspectives characters are taking away from all of this. This was definitely interesting insight about the Alida and R'hin dynamic!
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