Logs:Cheap Way Out
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 8 May, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, Yesia |
| Type: Log |
| What: This day, the day when Edyis and Yesia don't fight, must be a cold day in Igen. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 10, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Though overall pleasant, the temperature has dropped just below the freezing mark, enough to allow the lightest sprinkle of snow to fall from the skies. |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Keysi/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, Olrina/Mentions, Paz/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Not even an AU! |
    |
>---< Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr(#276RJs) >-------------------------------< The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- Edyis F 20 5'4" athletic, brown hair, brown eyes 2m Yesia F 17 5'5" hourglass, red hair, hazel eyes 0s Even in the fading light, and the cooling autumn temperatures Edyis and Akluseth are loathe to leave the shore of the lake. Tonight seems no exception even as Edyis hugs the loose sweater tighter about her small frame watching the brown as he plays in the waters. Soon there will be very little choice but to head back in but she seems to be stubbornly sticking it out. "No, no." Yesia's voice is clear on the cool, still evening air, carried even easier over the water as she gets closer. "I don't expect you to sleep itchy, not any more than I would sleep with my hair a nest. I just thought maybe oil would be fine, love." If Aeaeth's low grumble is any indication, it's not fine. The dragon appears ahead of Yesia for once, probably because Yesia's stalking, her jacket pulled tight around her in the quickly encroaching cold. There is no hesitation on the part of the little green, who barrels past the Edyis on shore with only a warning bugle and bright spots of itchy-brownblue in her « Excuse me! » for Akluseth. Shortly, the green is sloshing into the water, disappearing just beneath the surface. It's more than Edyis get from Yesia, at least Akluseth's greeting is a twist of warm water currents, easy and energetic as ever. « Itchy? » Comes sympathetic with the drift of the waves. Edyis can't help but smirk a little, hoping the expression is hidden by the fading light. A deep sigh escapes. "Winter will come too soon." She murmurs softly, not to Yesia but not ignoring her either. Perhaps she simply wants to watch the greenrider suffer through a last minute bath. Bubbles float to the top of the water from below, a preamble to Aeaeth popping out and spraying water everywhere she can, snorting it out of her nose. « Yes, » she says vehemently. « I thought I was going to die. » Drama queen she is, but the water has appeased her for now, and she floats languidly closer to her clutchsibling, sighing contentedly. "When it does, she won't get baths after the sun goes down," Yesia grumbles, too cold or too tired from the day to be directly bitter at Edyis just now. "I refuse." "There's a hot spring, few hours flight from here, but you can't get there without flying." Which might explain why Edyis isn't there at the moment soaking away the day's soreness. « I don't itch very often anymore, swimming helps, and oiling. » Akluseth shares as she circles lazily. "I can't believe I used to be able to pick him up and carry him around." "Well that doesn't do us any good," Yesia says, cutting a look to Edyis that lacks her unique and particular edge. She just looks...sleepy, right then. "I want to be able to fly," she almost whispers, watching Aeaeth in the water as the young green spreads her wings, practicing in the low-impact environment provided her. « The water helps. I dry out very fast. » A sigh, and her progression is very easily seen: it's more than a bath she wants, and the green beelines for a rock in the middle of the lake, one just her size. Edyis laughs despite herself. "Not much I know of that will do any us any good at the moment. There is no cure for weyrlinghood except time." Leaning against a boulder, dark eyes watching the brown and green, she asks after a long silence, "You came from Crom right? What possessed you to do something so crazy as stand for a clutch of eggs?" Genuinely curious, and no trace of mockery in her tone. Yesia makes a quiet 'mmm'ing sound in acknowledgement. "We have plenty of that," the girl says, but it's not a pleased observation. Edyis' question gets her gaze, wary and immediately closed. "You don't care," isn't a question. It's a challenge, or perhaps just a wall going up to protect her. "Blame all the stupid essays." Edyis murmurs with a dark chuckle still watching that brown in the water. "Don't know enough about you yet to care." She tosses back easily enough, and it's almost apologetic, and as close to an admission of being wrong as most people ever get from the prideful young woman. It may even cost her something, to judge from that distant expression. "You never bothered to try," Yesia counters, because it's the natural course things take with them, it is automatic and still so very sleepy. She lets that hang, even in the face of some sort of apology, just to make sure it lands where it should before, "Yes, I'm from Crom. And I came because I could. I didn't have a craft, and what girl wouldn't, with a gold egg on the sands?" "What incentive did I have to try?" She counters softly, and without any particular emotion. The mention of the golden egg causes her head to shake. "I never understood the appeal. It tends to be a rather boring set of responsibilities." The former scribe muses softly, "I feel badly for her though, all that running... but this suits her better I would wager. Even if she has a lot of growing up to do." She adds after a beat, "Even if we all have growing up to do." Aeaeth has clambered atop a rock, her eyes reflecting the moonlight even at that distance. She's staring at their riders, and is sharing some secret when she whispers Akluseth's mind, clearly a little confused, « Mine...does not like yours. » Which is to say, why are they talking? Even if they're not, right that moment, with Yesia staring out at her dragon with that pert little frown of hers, the one that is ever so common. "I was new," she says eventually, for incentive. "I was new and far from home and alone. And you were all...." Whatever they were is encompassed in a shrug. "How can you not? All the stories and tales, Moreta and Lessa, why wouldn't every girl think they wanted it? But," she adds at the same time Aeaeth whuffs with displeasure, "I wouldn't want that gold now, not for anything. Aeaeth is my best friend. I've never had anything like her. Or anyone. I don't regret it." Silver fishes dance in flashes of golden light filtered through restless waves. « Edyis. » He muses to the green, « She is not the easiest person to get along with, but she is the way she is. » Not one to offer up his rider's reasoning or secrets. As for the brownrider herself she sucks in a breath, "You say that as though it made you unique." It isn't biting or even cutting, more like a healer observing a patient for symptoms of a disease. "Why get to know a bunch of people who may or may not stay? Doesn't make any sense to get too attached only to say goodbye after a few months." But something in that, seems to encompass more than just candidacy. She smiles at the assertion. "That too is something I never quite understood. I hated Akluseth at first, but... it's like he knew he'd wear me down eventually. Seaweed brained brown." "That's a shitty way of thinking about it. And it's a shittier reason for treating people...." She's so very close to voicing the truth of things, but Yesia is not brave, not like that, and it doesn't look like it will make it out. It's a good thing Aeaeth is better, even if it's in private with her clutchmate. « Yesia too. I think...she wants to try though. » "It doesn't make anyone unique," Yesia continues. "You're not unique either. You're just another mean-spirited brownrider, too sensible," in big air quotes, "to realize how bad you are to people, because people put up with it." There's still no love lost, apparently. "With that logic, why should I have bothered to try and be nice to you? To any of you? You called me names and put mud on my bed, and stole my pillows and tried to turn Paz and Olrina, my only friends, against me." Her horrified expression might be lost in the darkness, but it's rich in her voice. It's almost accusing. "Hated? How could you?" "Maybe, everyone finds some way to cope." The brownrider reasons mildly. "No, I am not unique. Just one more bitter refugee." The assessment of herself equally bland. "Or perhaps I realize and I am just the sort of person who is terrible enough not to care?" It sounds more like playing advocate than a serious statement, but it might be difficult to tell with that distant expression trained on the brown and green. "So you were afraid, and new and so you acted out being terrible yourself because you were someplace new and scary." The observation bland, and without emotion. "Is that the shape of it?" The unspeakable happens. Yesia, looking quietly at Edyis, pulls her coat around her, takes a few mincing steps closer, and sits down there, crosslegged and with her hands stuck in the circle of her legs. "You're from a hold. You should understand how people think about weyrs. And...Crom has history. People are wary of this place." The short answer is yes, but it's not enough. "I didn't know what to expect, except stories. And I didn't want you to think I was just some stupid hold girl, scared of her own shadow. Not that it took Farideh long to start calling me that, regardless." Bitterness there. "I won't take it," she states plainly, without her usual fervor. "I don't have to." Edyis exhales softly pensive. "I can understand to an extent. I didn't exactly have the luxury of hostility as a defense when I first came here, but then I guess it was a different set of circumstances." Swallowing as though it was something she hadn't thought about in a long time. "I think I might have liked that Yesia better though, rather than the one who said every nasty thing that came to mind." The side of her mouth twitches downward faintly, but she allows herself to slip down the rock into a sitting position. Clearly thread is about ready to fall out of the clear starry sky. Yesia shakes her curls adamantly, her declaration firm. "That Yesia would get eaten alive. If it hadn't been for Paz, I would have gone straight home. And now I can't anymore." She catches her lower lip, considering, then says, "I've got my letter to ask to go to Igen written. You can run off and tell your friends, I'm sure they'll be delighted. Only one person wants me to stay here anyways, and I think she's just being nice because it's her job." She sounds dubious on that point, but she doesn't elaborate further. "You guys win." Edyis arches a brow at that. "That is a cheap way out." The former-scribe muses aloud. Ink-dark eyes focused on the red head now. "It's a way out," Yesia retorts at once. "Like I care what you think. I just thought you would want to tell them. Then they can talk about things that are at least true." Edyis snorts, "It's a cheap way out." She repeats. "But I suppose if you are that sort of person, you haven't changed much from when you first arrived." Pulling to her feet, "You have to be willing to fight for a place to make it home." Ambiguous words left open to interpretation, "If you run when things get difficult I guess this isn't that place for you." "Not that you'd notice," Yesia all but hisses. "You don't know me, remember? How would you know if I've changed?" She looks up at Edyis, almost seems like she might stand up just so the brownrider doesn't loom over her, but then opts to stare out at the lake instead. Aeaeth stirs on her rock with a sigh, slips into the water and makes steady progress for shore. "I don't see anything here worth fighting for. She's it," a point towards the green, "and she is where I am. I'd fight for her, if she asked, but not for any of you. This isn't my home. I've only ever felt like a stranger." Edyis laughs, but it isn't a mocking sort of laughter. No this is far warmer and more genuine, ink dark eyes glittering with amusement. The brown offers a warble to the green, even as he slinks out of the water after his rider. "You decided that all on your own Yesia. I'd wager though you'd have the same problems there as here." Her brow furrows faintly. "Take it from someone whose uprooted their life several times. It isn't always the place or the people that is the problem." A second rare admission perhaps of her own faults, or perhaps just an ambiguous jumble of words as she heads back in. Aeaeth's warble in return is soft, curtailed when she presses wetly against Yesia, pushing her head against the girl until they are a single silhouette, with the girl's arms wrapped the dragon as best she can. "Whatever," may or may not be heard, but it's easily a full (and cold, and wet) ten minutes before she rises herself and makes her way towards the barracks as well. God forbid she be seen with those two. |
Leave A Comment