Logs:Candidate Evanthe
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| RL Date: 27 June, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, Evanthe |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Evanthe has a request. She's surprised how easily Aishani grants it. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 2, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: The snowfall is light and intermittent throughout the day until it tapers off completely into a frigid night. The ground is damp, though very little sticks. |
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| Snow won't stop anyone at the Reaches from hitting the bar, so it's a busy, crowded night in the Snowasis tonight, tables packed with card games and parties and groups of anxious wide-eyed candidates, just recently dragged in to the Weyr and sticking together out of a need for familiarity. Aishani isn't trying to commandeer a table to herself tonight, though it's not as if she hasn't been known to do so -- instead she lingers over a drink at the bar, sitting on a tall stool with legs crossed, one boot swinging idly, as if bored. But when conversations come near, her sharp gaze flickers their way briefly. Evanthe is in that ever uncomfortable position of alone-yet-not, crammed in to table with a great many other people who are all largely talking to each other, while she darkly nurses a cup of tea and shoots occasional glances towards the bar. It may be towards the bartender, who steadfastly refuses to serve her alcohol, or checking for available seats - it may even be towards Aishani herself. Whatever the reason for her restlessness, the moment a seat opens at the bar, Ev has lurched to her feet and elbowed her way past a cluster of half-drunk riders in order to get there before anyone else... and, conveniently, it's right beside the weyrwoman. The girl boosts herself up on the barstool, hollers for another at the overworked barkeep, and then mutters some too-soft, presumably respectful greeting to Aishani. Aishani isn't with anyone, by the looks of things; she shares a quiet word with the barkeep now and again, nods down the bar, aims a wave across the room, but she's not drawn anywhere, nor does anyone other her. This is her spot, her regular routine. Even the drunken riders give her a wide berth if they can, one hapless bluerider rushing off chastened after bumping into her lightly and getting a narrowed glare. Evanthe's appearance isn't a surprise -- someone needs to sit -- but she glances over at the younger woman to lift her glass in greeting. After a sip, "How are you?" "Good. Good. I'm good," Evanthe says, a little uncertainly, eyes flicking up to the weyromwan's face. "How 'bout you? How is... things? The weyr, and stuff?" Her mug is topped off with a pot of something steaming, and she draws it in close and immediately begins to fidget it. Just a little fingertapping here, a twist there, a handle wiggling there - and, besides, absently chewing on the thumbnail of her other hand. She's full of blatant, obnoxiously nervous energy this evening, despite her nice, hot, soothing beverage. What the goldrider is drinking is not hot, just dark liquid in a short glass, a cube or two of ice melting in it. Aishani takes another sip before setting it down to lean on the bar, watching Evanthe. "Not bad," she'll allow, "Though it's getting crowded around here. And Iesaryth's past due, and possibly sleeping more. So. That could be interesting." Her tone is dry, however, for some reason. Gaze flickering around to take in all of the fidgeting, "Are you sure you're all right? You seem..." Jumpy. Evanthe nods politely. Really, it's far too obvious that it's an automated diplomatic response, and that the girl's attention is entirely too distracted to listen to what the goldrider is saying. Just nod on along. She's got the cup halfway lifted to her mouth when Aishani's last words register, and she stops. The tea is eyed, then set down firmly enough to slop a little over the side as Ev turns a intent look at Aishani. "This is /stupid/," she informs the woman, with plain digust. Still, she hesitates a few minutes, staring at the goldrider before elaborating on just /what/ is stupid. It takes some mustering, see. "I want to stand." There, she said it, and straightens up a little in her chair. "On the... with the... you know." /That/. Not quite concerned, but definitely a bit confused as the blonde speaks, Aishani retrieves her glass, just in case she needs fortification. In fact, she'll take a drink anyway, just in case. But then, it's nothing so difficult or horrifying -- her expression clears as she straightens. "Anyone who lives here and wants to stand is welcome to," she says, offering a slight smile. "It's that easy. If you're sure... It can be... an adjustment." Displeased with her choice of words, she still leaves it there. Evanthe shifts a little on her chair, expectation plain on her face as the goldrider speaks... expectation that is clearly not met, as she remains perched on the edge of her chair, tension still present in her posture, and just... stares for a moment. "Just like that?" she says, with disbelief. "Seriously, just like that? I thought there'd be... a test, or an interview... an aptitude thing." Which would explain her hesitation, surely. Now her face is slightly flushed as she sits back on her chair, and the first traces of an uncertain smile on her mouth. "Really? That's it. I... yes, I'm sure. I'm definitely sure. I mean, mostly I'm sure of the /weyr/. But it seems like... a way, you know? A path. A place. If I impress, which if not, it'll at least traumatize my mother into leaving me be awhile." She pauses to reclaim her cup. "Sorry, I'm rambling." With an easy little shrug, unbothered by rambling, Aishani notes, "There are a few advantages to growing up at a Weyr. One is to have as many chances as you like on the sands. Some try until they're too old. Some only try a few times before it's too difficult for them." She manages to say the last without too much snide judgment. As she finishes her drink and signals for a refill, "I suppose some people might ask you why you want to stand or something of the like, but I think it all amounts to the same thing. Looking for something else." Turning back to Evanthe, seriously, "You'll have a place here, impress or not. Just... sharing your mind with someone else is not easy. It's the only thing I'd want you to bear in mind." "Never considered it before getting here... well, didn't even consider it then, but I guess it kinda... grew on me," Evanthe says thoughtfully. All the nervous tension has eased out of her body, and she slumps back into the chair with a far easier attitude, mug balanced against her chest for easy sippage. "Yeah. Something else," she repeats in a murmur. "That's the damn truth." The offered caution is nodded at, not dismissively or distractedly as before, but with appropriate solemnity. "I get that. Spoken to a couple of riders that don't seem totally... at ease. Or happy. Which is intimidating, to be sure, but... I guess on this side of it, not knowing how it actually is, it sounds appealing. You always have someone, but... you always have someone." She ponders that, head tilted to one side for a moment, then her eyes drift back to Aishani with interest. "So. If I'm sure. What do I do? To be a..." She gestures, towards the clusters of new candidates that have flooded the Snowasis. Lips quirking into a wry smile, "It was not a profession that was considered in my family." Aishani shakes her head a little, glossy curls bouncing, as she reclaims her refilled glass and takes a short sip. Glancing toward Evanthe again, looking her over, she agrees, "If you're looking for a dragon to solve everything... no, it won't. It won't change who you are. But it can make you better. In a sense." Her gaze goes distant briefly, and she smirks. "In many senses, actually." She sets her drink down, nodding once briskly. "If you're sure... and that never means you can't change your mind either-- you would go present yourself to Giorda or one of her assistant tomorrow, and move yourself into the candidate barracks. They'll add you to the chore rotation." Like she said, that easy. Following the gesture toward the candidates filling the bar with her gaze, "I hope none of them snore." "Nor mine," Evanthe says with her own note of wryness, understating the sitation so drastically as to be laughable. As for the rest, she listens. More or less calm now, basking in the glow of having achieved her goal so /simply/, she's more than willing to listen to the woman's sage comments. "It /won't/ fix my life? Well, damn, forget /that/ then," she says with a faint snort. "Really, though...I know it won't. I don't know /what/ it will do, but I want the else and I haven't stopped thinking about it since Madilla suggested it. Met her the other night, and she just mentioned it in passing, and it... it stuck. It /resonated/. That sounds dumb, but..." She shrugs to finish that sentence and finishes off her tea in a single, long swallow. "Giorda. Right. That I can do." And she follows the gesture to the candidates with a skeptical look. "Some of 'em are gonna. Just based on odds." She pushes her empty mug away, back towards the barkeep's side, and makes to stand - eager, perhaps, to go find said headwoman if possible despite the late hour. She pauses, though, to look over at Aishani again - and with a nod, she says, "Thank you, weyrwoman. Didn't think I could go ask one of the others, but I'd talked to you a couple of times, and... you seemed decent. So thank you. For all this." "Madilla." Aishani has to smile at Evanthe's mention of her, nodding a little. "She's a smart woman. The Weyrhealer hears it all, I think. But why not ask, why not take the opportunity? There's no sense in waiting for it out of some need to be chosen. The only dragon that chose me was mine." That's the important one, really. She shakes her head at 'dumb', adding quietly, "It just sounds like something you have to do." Though there's a bark of a laugh at 'decent', straightening as the blonde slips from her seat. "That's me, ask around," she says, with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Raising her glass, she's sincere enough in her next, though: "Good luck, candidate Evanthe. If not this clutch... well. Wait a few months." If anything, Evanthe's appreciation for this whole exchange only deepends with Aishani's implication that she too had not actually been searched - Ev nods, a quirk of a smile on her mouth. She doesn't comment though, on that or the sarcasm heavy response to her comment. Whatever it means, she sticks with her opinion, and just looks inordinately pleased to hear herself called candidate. "A title, at last," she says, with amusement. "I'll do that, weyrwoman. Thank you again, and good night." And with that, and new purpose (at least until she realizes that candidacy will be much and more of what she was already doing /before/), she picks her way through the crowded bar towards the cold night beyond. |
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