Logs:Are You Cross?
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| RL Date: 13 September, 2015 |
| Who: H'vier, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Yesia finally confronts H'vier about why she's not in Iceberg. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 10, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Mielline/Mentions, T'mic/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Tiny bit backdated. |
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| Three months have done very good things to Yesia, in some ways. She laughs easier, snipes less, can be seen more often in company rather than not at all. Snowdrift has its rituals, and within them it seems the young greenbrier has found her own--but some things never change. Things like Aeaeth, who dozes in the middle of the lake while Yesia keeps her company after drills in spite of poor weather. She's zipped down and bundled up in jacket and knit hat, but not fidgeting impatiently for once even though it's drizzling relentlessly, and somewhere behind the clouds the sun threatens to set. Reisoth is a relatively clean eater, but he's still, much to his disappointment, not perfect. He angles in from the feeding grounds with blood on his muzzle to land in the shallows, and sure enough H'vier appears within a few minutes to check on the bronze's long-practiced handiwork of cleaning off his own face. Once he's done, Reisoth slides further into the water and his rider remains, hands in his pockets, standing away from the water and looking pensively at the wake trailing the bronze. Aeaeth lifts her head first; the arrival of another dragon is always worth a bit of her attention, though her apparent distaste for her aloof clutchsire is marked when she puts her head back on her paws, watching beyond him for... Yep, there's his rider. The green's little huff draws Yesia's attention, and it's telling that she ultimately greets H'vier with a quick salute and, "Wingleader." Whether it's at some warning from Reisoth or not, H'vier only glances at the young woman before he returns plainly, "Greenrider." His eyes linger on her despite his neutral greeting now that she has his attention. Meanwhile, Reisoth generally ignores Aeaeth's presence save for the slight pressure of his mind. Diaphanous color does not offer much protection from pressure, but Aeaeth does okay behind them anyways, and remains disconcertingly silent, for a dragon who trills piccolos constantly, without thinking about it. And Yesia stares back for a handful of moments, her head tipping off to the side slightly. She opens her mouth, then closes it and looks briefly troubled. "Are you mad at me?" Reisoth seems to have no interest in anything other than keeping her aware of him. He doesn't try to speak to her and might very well be trying to make her uncomfortable with his presence just to see what she does, even if not overtly so. "No," says H'vier simply. "Should I be?" "I don't know," Yesia says, uncomfortable, and turns her eyes back out to where Aeaeth has begun breathing into the water, low bubbles to indicate how totally unaffected she is by Reisoth. "You haven't been..." She sounds hesitant at first, but there is a big bubble from Aeaeth and Yesia shakes her head, the sway of her curls abbreviated by the way her hat is drawn down, and she turns to look back out at the water. Her voice isn't so small when she tries again. "I just wasn't sure, is all. You've been weird lately, and I'm in Snowdrift." "I hadn't been feeling very much like myself," H'vier will allow with a brief frown. He's moving then, making his way closer to the redhead, but he stops before he manages to truly invade her personal space. "I requested to tap you for Iceberg. It's not my fault you're in Snowdrift, gorgeous." "I could have helped, maybe," isn't the least bit suggestive. It might border on concern, for all the girl seems terribly self-involved. "Do you feel better, now? I...sort of missed talking to you.." The galling implication that they spent any huge amount of time talking notwithstanding, she seems earnest enough. She bites her lower lip for the rest, frowning. Her puffed sigh is relieved, as is, "Really? I thought you just changed your mind." "I wanted you to," says H'vier. There's something genuine about it that doesn't hint at his interest being purely physical. "But it's probably for the best that you didn't see me like that. I'm better now. More myself." Which, admittedly, may not be better for everyone else. "Are you satisfied with Snowdrift? Several of your clutchmates are there with you. That must be nice." "Oh," Yesia murmurs, rocking forward onto her toes with a gust of wind at her back. "I would have, you know. Come visit. Even if it was just to...not mess around. Or just to mess around. Or, whatever. Sorry." The greenrider can muster a smile for him though, since her estimation is he's better as himself, and if she relaxes very slightly it's only because he's said so. And that's even if her nose wrinkles slightly. "Snowdrift isn't terrible. Mielline is a good wingleader," by her estimation, "and I guess she must be an okay weyrleader too," since nothing is yet collapsed or on fire. "I hate Edyis and T'mic though. If you'd taken me, I would have been the only weyrling you got. That would have been nicer." H'vier makes a displeased sound at the mention of Mielline and weyrleader, but he refrains from commenting on it more than that. "That would've been nicer," he can agree with that. "And you're perfectly free to request a transfer to Iceberg if you wish. Or I could try. But they'd probably value your wishes over mine." They. "In either case, my weyr is always open to you, Yesia. I enjoy your company. For messing around or otherwise." It makes him smile for a moment. "You don't like her?" Yesia asks of Mielline, sounding surprised. "She's doing good, I think. I don't know as much as everyone else, we're still new, but...it's neat, having her acting for K'del." It doesn't take long, that indoctrination in wing; Yesia's clearly proud, on some level. Maybe it's just being a girl. "Maybe," is of Iceberg. She seems reluctant at first, like he might be mocking her, but she satisfies herself when she spots the smile. "When K'del gets back. I don't know I want to explain to Mielline why I'm asking." "I have no strong feelings about her, personally. But I don't support any woman as Weyrleader, acting or otherwise. It's not right." Especially not when he could have been chosen instead. And he clearly wasn't. "I think K'del is too scared someone else will do his job better than him to give it to anyone but a middle-aged woman." Because this is how H'vier thinks. Does Yesia still want to ask K'del about Iceberg? Yesia purses her lips, displeased. "If women can ride male dragons..." she ventures, cautiously, but shakes her head. "Just because she's a woman doesn't mean she doesn't know how things work. She can be just as capable as he is, even though she's a bluerider." She glances sidelong at him. "What would you do better?" "Of course she knows how things work." H'vier doesn't try to argue that. In fact, he won't try to argue any of it. "It doesn't matter what I'd do better. I'm not the Weyrleader and it's doubtful Reisoth will ever manage to change that. It doesn't mean I have to happy with the way things are." Because he's clearly not. "Are you gonna sit out here all evening? You're gonna get cold." Yesia is deliberately obtuse. Her eyes drift out to the water, landing not on her own lifemate whose head is fully submerged, watching whatever is going on below, but on Reisoth, who she narrows her eyes at. "He might. He's caught Niahvth before." And as for the weather? Her eyes turn towards the sun, tracking its gradual progress to setting. "I think she'll be done soon. She likes to stay until the sun is gone. It's why I got the hat." She grins, pointing at the thick knit. "One of the aunties made it for me." "And he chose not to chase her at all this time," H'vier informs Yesia with something tense in his voice despite the neutrality he's striving for. "What are you doing when she's done?" he asks, eager to talk about anything but his dragon's sex life, or lack thereof. "It looks good on you. But, I suppose, you make everything look good on you, don't you." "And maybe he will next time she rises." It's not such an unfair assessment, is it? Aeaeth lifts her head out of the water, letting it sluice past her headknobs and drip from her chin. "I do look good in almost anything," Yesia says, lacking that touch of immature arrogance that usually marks her preening, but she smoothes the thick purple knit down. It almost feels like habit. "We'll go home, I think. Sweep as much water off the ledge as we can, even though I don't even think she's sleeping on our ledge anymore." Yesia looks suspiciously at Aeaeth, who looks utterly innocent as she shakes her wings out and slides into the water to start drifting to the shore. "Perhaps," allows the bronzerider of his bronze, though he looks at the young green. "It sounds as though you're set, then," H'vier tilts his gaze toward the redhead with a brief, friendly sort of smile. "I hope your evening is more pleasant than the weather, Yesia." It sounds like a farewell, but he's not leaving yet. . It's almost like she is waiting for him to go, the way she stands there, but there's a coyness there, too. When he doesn't show signs of leaving, Yesia steps away just far enough to lay out Aeaeth's straps -- hot pink and horrifying, easily the most terrifying graduation gift of this past class -- she wonders blithely, "What are you doing?" H'vier eyes the straps that she's laying out without comment or judgment, but he does watch while she does it. "I'll go back to my weyr. Have a few drinks. Go over some wing reports. See if anyone is interested in joining me at some point." It should be noted, though, that he doesn't ask Yesia specifically about her interest, though the way he's watching her could hardly be considered disinterested. Aeaeth is long-suffering as she steps into her straps and crouches down for them to be buckled and fastened. It's a short trip, and getting colder as the sun hides; no point in drying now. "Since you're not cross with me," a smile twitches, "if you can't find anyone, you can call Aeaeth when you're done with your reports." Greens are glorious because they are small, and the straps are short work; short enough that she can turn back around and cover the distance in a few short steps, just less than an arm's length away. "You can show me again why I might like Iceberg." He looks from greenrider to green and back again once Yesia steps in his direction. Those words, if nothing else, will probably make sure that she's somewhat dominant in H'vier's thoughts all evening. Something makes him glance out toward the dark bulk of bronze still in the water. When he looks back at the girl, he says somewhat carefully, voice still telling, "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." He might not even be able to do wing reports if he's thinking about that, granted. "Miellene is pretty intense," Yesia carries on, like she's not a little too close. "I'd have to have a really really good reason if I was going to ask, at least if I don't wait for K'del." She knows. She has to know what she's doing. "Good night, H'vier. I'll see you later, maybe." When Yesia turns to go to Aeaeth it's abrupt, leaving the space to fill with cold air in her absence. Maybe that will help him out, because the green doesn't loiter, and is soon climbing up towards their ledge. |
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