Logs:Avoiding Negativity
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 13 May, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia's brooding over nastiness; Madilla listens, and is helpful. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 10, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions |
  |
| Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr A passageway hewn into the rock and heavily patched with cement leads a short distance in to the bowl wall, with a door on either side. Lit by regularly spaced glows, the white-washed walls have been covered over by colorful tapestries, wall hangings and pieces of art made from metal and wood. To the left of the entranceway, just a single step inside, a spiral staircase opens out of the wall, leading upwards through the stone. Further down, a doorway opens to either side of the corridor, while at the far end, there is a hewn-stone staircase leading up to the residential quarters, wreathed by two final doors to private quarters and the bathing room. 'The door leading to the east opens into an expansive room that seems to provide both general working space - with long, bare benches and chairs - and a cozy lounge complete with over-stuffed sofas and a few fuzzy armchairs. Three tall windows are carved into the stone, and offer air and light when the heavy wooden shutters are left open, though the lounge area has to make do mostly with glows. A hearth at the back of the room provides both heat and basic cooking facilities. The white-washed walls are bedecked with decoration - from quilts, to tapestries, to wooden carvings and metal sculptures. The western door leads into another passage, off of which the main workrooms have been built. The loading dock is at the northern end, leading back out into the bowl, with the rest of the rooms leading deeper and deeper into the wall.
Madilla enters the lounge in stockinged feet, and with her hair in a braid down her back rather than her usual updo; she looks as though she's already half ready for bed, and most likely as though she's just put a certain pair of children /to/ bed. Padding towards the lounge area, she busies herself with the hearth - hot water, tea leaves, a mug - in a way that uses up must of her attention. When she does turn, however, there's no surprise in her expression, and she greets Azaylia with characteristic quiet warmth: "Good evening. You look-- deep thoughts?" Azaylia takes even longer to recognize Madilla at first, staring at her with those widened doe eyes. And then, "Oh, no. Yes. Uhm." Klah mug is brought up as an excuse to gather her wits, only realizing a second too late that she's sipping at nothing. How long has that been empty? "Good evening." The beastcrafter finally smiles, and that recognition sinks in just a bit more. "How's Lily?" Face is flushed with warmth, telling of how long she's been in front of the fire. But then there's a bit of raw pink to the tops of her cheeks, eyes slightly puffy themselves. "A-and how're you too, Madilla?" She remembers to tack on. That confusion of answers draws a furrow to Madilla's brow, but she holds off remark on it initially and answers, instead, "I'm well, and so is Lily. She's looking forward to a decent snowfall so that there can be snowballs, but I think she may be waiting a little while yet." Pouring her tea into a mug, she has to turn her back again, but it's only for a moment or two: then, she gathers herself into a nearby chair and turns her attention more firmly onto the Apprentice. "Is everything well, Azaylia?" "Oh, well... she's tougher than I am." Azaylia admits with no shame, "Playing in the snow and all. But I'm so glad to hear that she's well. And you, too." Her second hand makes an appearance, finger choosing to slowly trace the rim of her mug. She comes across a bit of klah residue, not easily wiped away so she takes her nail to it, scratching idly. Madilla's question coaxes her gaze upwards, taking a moment to find the Journeyman in her newly claimed seat. "I'm just..." Confidence required for a lie falters at the second word, "No. No it's not." The Herder doesn't want to force Madilla to work for the information, "I never knew trouble... could make people so nasty." Madilla's "Nor me," refers to the snow and a prompt shiver that's clearly designed for emphasis. But if she intended more of a remark to it, she puts that on hold in order to regard Azaylia levelly and with concern at the rest of what she has to say. "It's awful, isn't it? When people... react in unpleasant ways to things. I'm sorry, Azaylia, that it is impacting you at all. Is there... anything I could do to help?" She's genuine about the offer, and about her own unhappiness at whatever it is that's going on; her expression if faintly maternal. "I can't see how I could possibly avoid it." Hopeless and accepting of that fact, Azaylia leans into the chair and closes her eyes. Lips tremble, inhale meant to steel herself though it sounds suspiciously like a sniffle. "Everyone's different, and that's always been fine. But now I'm... I've heard the nicest people say the most terrible things. About the Weyr, about the Queens and the exiles." Voice drops into a tender whisper. "..about K'del." Eyes flutter open, a touch wider than they usually are as she looks towards Madilla. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to gossip." The offer is considered, better late than never as she smiles weakly. "Even if you could, I couldn't bother you like that." Though Azaylia clearly appreciates it, extending her own warmth towards the older woman. Madilla's "Oh," is almost more of an exhale than it is an actual statement, and her tone is rich with the sadness of it. Mouth drawing in unhappily, she watches Azaylia silently for several more seconds before she can come up with anything more to say. "I hate it," she agrees. "I've never understood why people can't make the effort to get along, and to be nice to each other. I don't think it really counts as gossip, in any case. I wish there were something I could do... it's all so ridiculous. Do you know, there are crafters here convinced the weyr isn't taking good enough care of us? They want their workspaces cleaned more often, they want better cooking facilities and people to do the cooking, they want-- they just want. It's never enough." Azaylia is perhaps too quick to nod after Madilla's words. There's a slump to her once tense shoulders, eyes lidded once again as her relief is announced with a quiet groan. "It feels... so good to hear you say those things." Words likely plucked from the Apprentice's own thoughts. The tension is quick to return, young woman sitting up straighter at the Journeyman's reveal. "What?" Words are even quieter, with double the intensity. "I was amazed when I first got here!" Passion remains, though her voice still doesn't gain any volume, "That... that the Weyr could take care of their people, their d-dragons and still give us crafters such a lovely..." One hand leaves her mug in the custody of the other in order to motion to the Complex, hopefully making up for her sudden loss of words. It seems to please Madilla, that Azaylia is soothed by her words, despite the short-livedness of that respite. Before answering the rest, she turns her attention to her tea, blowing softly on the hot liquid in a reflective kind of way. "I know," she says, simply. "These facilities-- there are few places one could be posted that would have better, in my opinion. We're very lucky. Simply put, many people are just never happy with what they've got. It makes me miserable, too." And so she sounds sympathetic all over again, adding, "There's nothing we can do but be loyal and honest and stay away from the-- negativity. That's what I teach my children, at any rate." Azaylia hangs on Madilla's words in such a way that may reminisce of the Healer's own children during story time. Actively seeking comfort, subconsciously gaining knowledge. "I feel lucky." She echoes, losing that fire from earlier but not the honesty. The young woman shifts, blanket writhing for as long as it takes for her to abandon one armrest for the other, the one closer to the other crafter. "You think that's important?" A moment before she reiterates, "That... that we should stay away from negativity?" Such innocent optimism, as if it's that easy. "Like, avoid someone you know is nasty instead of nice?" Or someplace? And in return, Madilla's expression is much the same as it would be with her children: quietly maternal. "I'm glad you do," she says, gently. "So do I." The question draws a longer pause, consideration painting itself into her expression and leaving her with a deep breath, and then, finally, a low exhale. "I don't know if it's really as easy as that, in the end, but - yes. It's what I try to do. Of course, we can't avoid everyone like that, not always; sometimes we have no choice. But we can choose to avoid it in ourselves, and to not engage with it." "I'll try." It's a quiet promise, and that optimism persists in the smallest of smiles. "I know that things aren't always easy." Azaylia peeks out from the shelter of her own naivete just long enough to look Madilla in the eye. "But now I... I guess I feel like I can do something about it." Her gaze drops to the empty mug, realizing that the longer the residue sits the harder it will be to clean. Long limbs blossom from under the blanket, hand catching the wooly thing before it all crumples on the ground. She stands, words halted by a squeaking stretch before the Apprentice slumps. A sigh. "Thank you, Madilla. I don't know how you did- but you helped." Smile is a touch brighter than it has been, appreciation made obvious. "I should wash this, then go to bed." It's what a well behaved Apprentice would do, after all. "Enjoy your tea." Madilla gives Azaylia a fond, pleased smile. "You're welcome, Azaylia. I'm not sure what I did to help either, but if it did help, then I'm glad. I remember-- I suppose I was younger than you are, but I do remember how difficult it could get. I'm always happy to listen, if you need me to." Both hands wrap around her mug, now, and she inhales deeply for a moment before adding: "Sleep well." |
Leave A Comment