Logs:Appropriate Conversation
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| RL Date: 10 January, 2016 |
| Who: Catling, D'vro, Dahlia, Colsoth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two riders and a new resident explore what's appropriate in polite conversation in a Weyr. |
| Where: Lake Shore, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 10, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Blume/Mentions, Druala/Mentions, Kh'tyr/Mentions |
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>---< Lake Shore, Fort Weyr >------------------------------------------------<
The lake's shore is a broad crescent of golden-hued sand, stretching from
the southwest wall near the feeding grounds and around to the southeast
where the sand gives way to soil and leaf detritus from a cluster of hardy
mountain trees. Where the lake deepens, clear blue water darkens to murky
teal, hiding stony depths. Dragons often sun here and riders use the lake
for dragonwashing in the warmer seasons, while all of the Weyr's denizens
may enjoy walks and picnics among the large, smooth boulders that
interrupt the smooth flow of sand. Many of the Weyr's children also play
at skipping stones with the wide variety of rocks available along the
water's edge.
Although the clouds are patchy with glimpses of sky in the early morning,
they turn gray but rainless around the time the sun comes up. The overcast
weather, with a hint of humidity, carries throughout the day with early
evening winds starting to break up the cloud-layer.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Catling F 15 4'10" waiflike, copper hair, green eyes 10s
D'vro M 35 6' strong, brown hair, blue-green eyes 5s
Dahlia F 19 5'9" sturdy, dk. brown hair, hazel eyes 0s Autumn in Fort is growing deeper with every passing day. Though snow is, as yet, infrequent and doesn't last and more often it's grey dreary days with rain. Grey days without rain, like today, seem a good enough treat amid the rest to see some people outdoors. Lunchtime brings more faces to the lake shore. While the water grows chilly, the shore itself is still pleasant, and of course, as Taeliyth is demonstrating, the water is not yet too cold for those with thick hides. Dahlia stands on the shore, her long brown sweater and saggy grey-green hat keeping the worst of the nippy day from bothering her as she watches the queen in the water, a curious sort of smile on her lips. Colsoth has been finishing off his catch from the feeding grounds for the last little while. That no doubt made D'vro's lunch particularly interesting, but now he's out of the caverns and nearly to the lake shore, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "She looks in good spirits," the bronzerider says when he gets near enough to Dahlia to be heard with a slight raise of his deep voice. Catling walks along the shore, humming softly to herself. She is carrying a basket with her, swinging it lightly to and fro. She is wearing a rather oversized wool sweater, but it is thick and warm and large enough to serve the girl as a coat. She pauses a respectful distance from the dragonriders and curtsies, then moves a little closer, looking for a place to sit. "More or less. I keep looking to see if I can see any change yet, but she looks the same as always," is answer made to the approaching bronzerider, whose voice is so familiar to the weyrwoman that Dahlia doesn't need to look to identify him. "How are you-" the question begins as she does look to D'vro and catches Catling's curtsey in her periphery, her look briefly perplexed as she finishes, "-settling in, Dav?" Her hazel gaze shifts toward the younger girl again and she lifts her voice to ask with no small curiosity, "Excuse me, did someone tell you you ought to curtsey to--?" She doesn't seem to know whether to fill in 'gold-' or 'dragonriders' to finish the question so she leaves it. "You see her in much more detail than anyone else every day. It might be more difficult for you to notice when there're changes." D'vro is matter of fact about it, but it might be his way of also trying to be comforting. The girl catches his attention for a moment, but he seems to dismiss her after the curtsey when she goes looking for somewhere to sit. "I'm settling in. I like having a proper wing again." It's not until Dahlia questions the girl that D'vro returns his blue-green gaze to her, curious. The girl straightens, looking up, flustered. "I... ermm... my mother. Curtsey your Lord Holder, any Lords Holder, and the dragonriders, because you're my betters." Catling looks down at the basket, rubbing her hands together. "If I've erred, I'm terribly sorry. There's so very much to learn, and I am not.... terribly intelligent." "I do," Dahlia admits to D'vro with a smile. "I trust you can see the obvious differences in me from when I was quite small?" She lifts her brows, tone edged with comfortable teasing. There's a smile in her eyes for his answer but Catling has earned the better part of the young rider's attention now, that perplexed look returning. "I'm-- I'm sorry, I don't really understand that." She glances to Dav as if hoping he might be of help. "It's true that there's rank and structure in a Weyr and you ought to treat those with rank with the respect they've earned," or what's due them, but Dahlia doesn't say it like that, "but there's no need to curtsey. If you were a weyrling, you'd salute, but you're not," she must know them all by face and name. Meanwhile, Taeliyth enjoys the water. « Are you coming to join me? » is pointed inquiry. Forgotten is the flight, but not the eggs, not Leczuth, though perhaps now she can't as readily recall why she enjoys his company. She likes Colsoth though, she enjoys his company, she knows that and just now she seems lacking in companionship. Will he oblige? (To Colsoth from Taeliyth) Smile from the goldrider or not, D'vro starts to explain, "I've never seen you as often as you see--" Then something else seems to occur to him, "You're not pregnant, are you?" His attention is slightly torn between Dahlia and Catling. He says a moment later to the former, "Sorry, never mind. That's none of my business," to the former. And then to the latter, "What's your relationship to the Weyr, girl? Do you work here?" He could ask her name but, for the moment, he doesn't. "I guess it's a hold-bred thing," muses Catling. "Or maybe just my mother. Well. Stepmother." She blinks briefly, biting her lip, then shrugs. She looks over at D'vro and rubs at the back of her neck. "I'm a... resident. I'm still figuring out my place. Today I've been piecing hide and fur hats together. It's not too much different from harnesses, so I'm actually not half-bad at it." Just finishing up the last of his meal, Colsoth isn't surprised by the queen's question. He welcomes it, interested in her enjoyment. What else does she enjoy? He'll find out! « I will. Just a moment. » (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) Shock registers in Dahlia's face and she visibly pales when the bronzerider asks that-- well, for anyone else to ask it would certainly be highly inappropriate. It quite steals the goldrider's attention from Catling for the moment it takes her to blink at the older man. It probably isn't his business and she'd be well within her rights to reply cryptically, but instead it's a plain and definite, "No. I'm not. I meant-- Nevermind." Now the young woman is blushing and Catling is a welcome distraction as she puts on a professional expression. "Probably a holdbred thing," she offers with a politic smile. "I'm afraid I'm not very good with understanding 'hold things.' I grew up in a Weyr and scarcely saw a proper Hold my whole life before Fort." One can't really call most of the Southern holds proper given their wild setting, after all. "If you find you do well with it, you might ask Headwoman Blume to place you as an assistant for the tanners. If you can manage the smell." Tanning leather isn't a pretty piece of work, but very necessary. "I'm weyrwoman Dahlia," she introduces herself. "This is Wingleader D'vro," she gestures to the bronzerider, and then out to the water, "That's my lifemate, Taeliyth. What's your name?" For all that there's not even a handful of turns between herself and the resident, Dahlia's demeanor is now quite adult. It's an interesting question and sunlight filters through the branches of her inner Wood, offering glimpses of what might reside within. « I don't enjoy waiting, » that's not something Taeliyth does enjoy, but if you eliminate the things that she doesn't like, that should leave that which she does or hasn't thought of, right? It's something. (To Colsoth from Taeliyth) From near the feeding grounds, a bronze glides toward the water. He doesn't bother landing on the shore first, just skims toward the deeper end until he's submerged. He'll eventually end up closer to Taeliyth, but with less blood on his face and feet. D'vro doesn't pursue his questioning of Dahlia, instead studying the girl with an expression that might be considered a thoughtful frown. "Whatever you Holders do in your Holds, you're weyrfolk now. If you stop to curtsey every dragonrider you happen upon, you'll never get anything done. That's not an efficient use of anyone's time, whether they're off duty or on. Your contribution to the day to day running of the Weyr is respect enough for most of us." Once he's closer to his queen, Colsoth draws in what light of hers that he can, exploring what she allows without offering too much of himself. « But you're very good at it. It's an important skill to have, and you seem to have already mastered it. » (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) « So is flattery and you seem to have that well-practiced, » Taeliyth quips back with no small amount of suspicion. « Does that work on the Southern golds? » He might have to try harder with the Fortian one. Neverminding that many of the Southern golds were Fortian golds at the start. (To Colsoth from Taeliyth) To Taeliyth, Colsoth distances himself somewhat from her suspicion. That's not what he's trying to get out of her. Though that's probably never what the suspicious are trying to provoke. « Would it matter if it did? Would you be impressed? Jealous? » He's curious, that's all. "The smell's not bad. I mean... all right, it's bad, but I've smelled worse." Catling smiles shyly. "I'm weyrfolk now. I'm weyrfolk now. I'm learning, really I am. But I've only been here a month and... well... it's nothing like the stories Druala told." She tilts her head, then laughs softly, half-embarrassed. "For one thing, I'm still... ermm... well." She flushes pink and ducks her head. « No. Why should it matter to me what the Southern queens like? I enjoy honesty. Intelligence. Arguably, it's intelligent to flatter when needed, » certainly, she does it herself. Taeliyth considers the bronze as he joins her. « What do you enjoy, Colsoth? » (To Colsoth from Taeliyth) Dahlia's eyes go from Catling to D'vro, her look a little guarded, a little confused. It's asking of Dav with a lift of brows if he understands what Catling's trailed off about before she looks back to the young woman and simply asks, "You're still...?" Then a glance to D'vro, "Did you know it takes roughly three residents for every one dragonrider to keep things running smoothly?" Interesting weyrwoman tidbit for the day: the more you know. To Taeliyth, Colsoth considers the question for a short while, and the rest of what she's said, before he decides, « I enjoy that you enjoy the qualities that you do. » « Which tells me exactly nothing about what you really enjoy. Are you always so evasive, Colsoth? » Taeliyth seems to enjoy saying his name, so that can be added to the list of things she enjoys. Figuring things out is apparently another. (To Colsoth from Taeliyth) "Still... ah... I...." Catling licks her lips. "Still.... erm.... innocent." She chuckles softly. "The assistant Weyrlingmaster warned me and kept me safe." She runs a hand through her hair. "He's very ni-- hem. He's helped me a lot." She changes what she was going to say mid-sentence, then sets down her basket. « Often, yes. » At least Colsoth is honestly evasive? « Would you prefer that I wasn't? Would you rather I simply gave you everything you asked for, Taeliyth? » The bronze sounds amused that he asks the questions, but just as interested in her answers. (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) "Mm," is all the answer D'vro gives Dahlia for her tidbit. It's probably meant to be affirmative, but he seems somewhat more interested in in Catling's answer, furrowed brows and all. "Innocent," he repeats. "What does that mean? That you've never killed someone? Caused harm to another. Have you been accused of some crime?" His face is quite serious. To Colsoth, Taeliyth considers, « I don't like dragons who waste my time. » However. « I prefer dragons work with me. Allies. » Friends is trickier. « Can you do that best with candor or evasiveness? » It, too, is a genuine question. Dahlia doesn't seem to really follow the younger woman's words either, brows drawing down in a perplexed look. Her hazel gaze slips to D'vro as he questions, her expression echoing the inquiries made by the wingleader, equally serious in her regard. « It depends on what we're working toward. » That's his candid answer. « I enjoy many things. Eating. Flying. Swimming. Getting to know my queen and my Weyr. Making sure D'vro finds enjoyment outside of work. » The last probably takes up a good portion of his time. (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) %r"No. That.... well." Catling shakes her head. "Well. According to my stepmother I've done plenty of harm. Brought the plague home. So. It's why I'm here, at any rate. But see.... there are.... stories. About.... what goes on during.... flights. And so... see." D'vro doesn't seem sure he fully understands. He glances at Dahlia, even, before saying simply, "You're innocent of sex? And that's a problem somehow?" He looks at the weyrwoman again, frowning now, trying to figure this out and not entirely happy with his failure. This is apparently something she's more equipped to handle even if he has as many turns as he does on her, so he'll defer to the young woman. Dahlia is no holdbred girl, and yet her expression suggests she can't really believe what she's hearing. Brown lashes flutter as she blinks rapidly at the young woman. Perhaps it will soothe D'vro to find that Dahlia, who's quite good with people, by and large, seems just as baffled. She doesn't initially seem to know how to respond and settles on, "I'm not sure I understand." And another glance is shot to D'vro, uncertain herself. "I'm just digging the hole deeper, aren't I." Catling sighs. "My stepmother told me that all you riders have.... sex.... all the time... with.... anything that moves, practically. Well. She didn't say it like that. But. I mean, I didn't believe her.... but then, she said that's how my father got me, so... I mean, it was kind of scary coming here. And you all are so.... nice, even the ones of you that pretend to be not-nice." To Colsoth, Taeliyth seems more satisfied with this sort of answer, really, so if that's anything to judge by, she enjoys straight answers when she can get them. « Good to know. Is it a challenge? That last? » By way of equal return she offers, « I like to watch. I ask Dahlia to draw things so I can remember better, but she's not very good. » A disappointment to the queen, but one can't have everything. « I like talking to dragons, but not the stupid ones. Flying and swimming are well enough. I like taking care of my Weyr, knowing those within it. » This now includes Colsoth, of course. "I would suggest," offers D'vro as kindly as he can manage, which still sounds a bit too polite, "that you shed your preconceived notions of the Weyr and the people who live here. It's quite clear that neither Dahlia nor I are currently engaged in intercourse. And if you're still innocent, as you say, your stepmother's hypothesis has been quiet thoroughly disproved. Are there any other stories you'd like us to address before you put this nonsense behind you?" Dahlia reaches a hand in the wake of D'vro's words to touch his forearm, lightly and briefly, a forestalling motion lest he say more just now. It seems she's had a moment to gather herself from her surprise while he's spoken. Still, where to begin? The weyrwoman takes a step toward Catling, but only one, not a threatening move, just reducing the distance between them. "What's your name?" To Taeliyth, Colsoth doesn't have to think about it for more than a moment, « It's a challenge at times. But I enjoy that, too. » He listens to the rest, curious and attentive. He wants to know everything that she's willing to share about herself. « Knowing those in your care is an important skill. I enjoy getting to know my wing. It keeps us close, encourages camaraderie and trust, makes us work better together. » "Catling." The girl clears her throat. "Just Catling. And I know, sir, that you're not. That's what I was saying. That I'm still learning and that so much isn't anything like what I was told. And not anything like what I feared. And.... not much like what I'm used to either. So.... I'm not... used to.... any.... I should just shut my mouth and go, shouldn't I, ma'am?" D'vro says nothing more to either girl or goldrider, content to let the latter take the lead. But he stays where he is, watching Catling with a distant sort of curiosity. "Catling," is quiet at first, an attempt for forestall, perhaps even not heard over the young woman's voice. "Much of what you know about the Weyr is probably not true. I gather that the holdbred have many ideas that are less than correct." Dahlia's choosing her words carefully, keeping her tone gentle. "However, in a Weyr, as I suspect anywhere else on Pern, one's sexual habits and experience is personal business. The only time that's not true is flights because one can't deny the knowledge of what happens for the riders of the dragons who are mating." She pauses briefly, considering, "It's more than awkward to be confronted with a conversational topic so intimate when we didn't even know your name." It's perhaps a blunt explanation, but not unkind. Quickly, she asks, "What kinds of things would you normally talk to a stranger about where you came from?" To Colsoth, Taeliyth's curiosity was bound to come, in turn, « What kinds of things work for him? » There's a sense that it's not only Taeliyth's interest that makes her ask, but Dahlia's too. « She'd like to do nice things for him, but she doesn't really know him, not that way, not the way they relate here. So far, all she's come up with is mixing up some seeds in a box and asking him to sort them for her. » Because that's apparently how Dahlia thinks D'vro has fun: mindless organization. « I'm pleased that you're leading a wing, Colsoth. You seem well-suited. » "I wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, and I hardly ever did." Catling shakes her head. "And I'm terribly sorry. Really I am. Weather, usually. Or whatever errand I was doing for my father. That's pretty much it. And I didn't *mean* to bring it up. I just.... have so many things going through my head that I.... blurt out the stupidest ones, I guess. Sorry Weyrwoman, sir." She curtseys again, then stops herself, and then looks down at the ground. "But it's nice to know that you take the time to correct me so that I don't act wholly like an idiot again." She looks up apologetically. "The... ah... weather's not bad today." The bronzerider maintains his silence for now, looking toward the water where his lifemate is conversing with Dahlia's, rubbing one taloned foot against the other. When he looks back to the pair, it's to say, "No apologies are necessary. At least not in my case." He wouldn't deign to speak for Fort's youngest weyrwoman. "Education is the only cure for ignorance." He probably doesn't mean for that to be harsh, but social graces aren't exactly D'vro's strongest suit. Dahlia's lashes flutter again in a rapid blink as she listens to the younger woman's response. After D'vro's own input which earns him a thoughtful look, she answers for herself, "It's-- well, it's no matter what it was," it's water under the bridge now. Perhaps because of D'vro's opinion on education that she goes on, "If you're speaking to riders, those are good topics. You might ask them about their dragon, their wing, their duties," she offers some topics. "The plague was difficult here, so if you're going to use your personal experiences you should be aware that some may have deeply emotional reactions." It's obvious she's trying to teach. She looks to D'vro with lifted brows. "D'vro," she addresses, "how are you finding the cooler weather? I needed two two sweaters every day for my first winter here." She finally picks up the thread of conversation the younger woman offered, before adding as an aside to Catling, "If you ask where we're from, we'll tell you we're from Southern Weyr where the weather is very different, among other things." She tries a smile that means to be encouraging, "and Wingleader D'vro is a recent transplant." "The plague was difficult at home, too," answers Catling, shuddering. "So...." But then she brightens. "Southern Weyr? What is the weather like? What is it all like?" She tilts her head, then twists her fingers into her hair. "Fort Hold and Fort Weyr are the farthest I've ever been from home. And even that... is so... different. I mean, if you don't mind saying. Or... I'm sorry, maybe... Oh. Ma'am. That was your dragon. Pardon me. Congratulations." That takes a bit longer to think about. « He enjoys going for walks. A glass of wine after he's finished with his work. He enjoys reading on various topics. I try to encourage him to spend more off duty time with other people, but that's more challenging. Now that we have our wing again, there's a possible choice of riders at the ready if he can't manage anyone else. » Colsoth pauses, thinking a moment longer because none of those might be very helpful to Taeliyth's rider. So he moves on to what might be more important than that, « Thank you, Taeliyth. Your approval is very appreciated. » (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) D'vro frowns at Dahlia's questioning initially, he more than likely wasn't expecting to be part of additional lessons, but his face smooths as she continues. "I don't mind it very much now, but I'm already dreading when it gets cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground. I may need to have a new flight jacket made." To Catling, "Southern's weather is warmer. Quite mild." The rest he seems less sure how to respond to. Dahlia's lips tighten slightly, as Catling mentions the plague, but she manages a gentle, "Many taken ill?" with only a small twitch. "And thank you." For the congratulations, "Though I had very little to do with it," a glance goes out to the gold in the water. She looks to D'vro and lifts her brows in a 'well, you were the one who said...' sort of look, it smoothing to one of mild appreciation when he lends his assistance. "I highly recommend it, D'vro. I've had to have the weavers pad my jacket for winter as it was made in the Southern style. They have an ingenious way with buttons to make the lining removable for summer." It's all pleasant, appropriate conversation. Once more Catling tilts her head one way and then the other, then finally nods and bends down to pluck a hat out of the basket. It's fleece-lined and fur-rimmed, round and six-paneled, and looks sturdy and warm. "I was given scrap pieces to see that I could make things proper," she says quietly. "And in different sizes. Pieced this together. It's pretty big.... I mean, for me. If you'd like it, sir, I made it winter-warm. It's not, you know, fine enough for a wingleader, but it'll keep out the cold...." She swallows hard, looking at Dahlia. "Yes. Many became ill." She looks towards the lake and the dragons. "But that was then. This.... is mercifully... not-then." "A removable lining would be useful," D'vro admits. "I'll speak with the weavers about that." To the girl, the bronzerider offers a brief smile, saying, "That's really not necessary, but the offer is very appreciated. Thank you, Catling. If you'll excuse us, though, the weyrwoman and I have some business to attend. If you don't mind, Dahlia, I have some questions about my wingriders that you might be able to help me with." He gestures, indicating that he'd really prefer to do that somewhere more private. "No, it's not then," Dahlia agrees with a tight smile. Her hazel gaze is drawn by the bronzerider and back to the young woman. "If you'll excuse us, Catling. Have a good rest of your day," it's offered with polite warmth before the gold in the water is moving onto shore some distance away to take flight even as her rider moves to walk with the bronzerider to discuss matters of business. To Colsoth, Taeliyth contemplates the list. « That helps us, thank you. » Then, simply, « Let's fly! » even as she moves to take off. Only after does the thought occur to her, « Dahlia enjoys his company. She would welcome him from time to time when you think he needs company. » There's something wry about that, but warm. Then her focus is clear: flight! Flying is something Colsoth can get behind. He follows the young queen into the sky without hesitation, a rush of him, his presence, in her wake. He doesn't voice it, but he'll certainly urge D'vro Dahlia's way when the man needs it. Quite happy to, in fact. (To Taeliyth from Colsoth) |
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