Logs:Crafterly Repercussions
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| RL Date: 27 August, 2015 |
| Who: Faryn, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Beastcraft Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del's been hearing things about the herder-craft. Faryn is/was a herder... even if K'del doesn't know her name. |
| Where: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 8, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Hanson/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions |
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| It's not that the records room is ever particularly busy - nobody gets to throw parties, after all - but it's especially quiet this afternoon. Most people, probably, are finding reasons to be outside as summer begins to wane, but Faryn is not amongst them just now. There is an unattended stack of books on one of the tables, blank papers, a pen, and the ex-herder is a distance away in one of the aisles, perusing the tomes there carefully, searching for something specific if the intensity of her gaze is any indication. Waning summer or no waning summer, there's no rest for the wicked-- or the fancily knotted-- and so K'del, alas, is another of those stuck indoors. He pads down the stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex, more casually than formally dressed, with a stack of tomes in his arms that are dutifully dropped off at the recordkeeper's desk. Despite soft-soled shoes, the quiet of the records room means it's easy enough to hear him coming... especially as he turns a corner and finds himself, quite by accident, not far from Faryn. "Oh!" he says. And then: "Hello." There have been padding footsteps at intervals most of her time here, so Faryn is perhaps more taken off guard by the fact that she's addressed than the fact that there is another poor soul stuck in the stacks. With her finger resting on the spine of a book to keep her place in her search, she flicks her eyes to the source then, in kind, "Good afternoon, Weyrleader." And a smile, very quickly flashed. And that might be it; she turns dutifully back to her task, walking her index and middle fingers across the tomes, like her hand is a tiny person. Sadly, K'del is not done with Faryn. Although... "It's--" Clearly, he doesn't remember her name, and gives up on that to add, "You're a herder, aren't you? Been hearing interesting things out of their Hall, of late." The query seems to be genuinely interested and innocent; as he comments, K'del's gaze flicks from the former herder to the shelves, then back again. If he's going to be a bother, at least she's found what she was looking for. It's higher than she is tall, and she stands on tip-toes to hook the very tip of her finger on it, tilt it down and drag it down into her hands, all blessedly without incident. "I was," she acknowledges, evenly, thumbing the cover absently. "Not anymore. If you have a question for them, I'm sorry I can't answer it." K'del leans up and forward, as if intending to reach in above Faryn's head and help her out, but she gets the the volume she's after before he does, and he relents, drawing back again. Blue eyes focus back upon the young woman, his expression visibly perturbed. "No questions for them," he says, evenly enough. "Are they really charging you for your education, though?" Faryn's confusion commits itself abruptly to her features: brows knitting, eyes narrowing, the corners of her mouth turning down into a tiny frown. She stops fussing that book to look at him more directly. "Those interesting things," she notes, vexed. "I don't know, sir. I haven't heard they are. Unless you have something that says otherwise," and she's dubious for that, "I'd like to err on the side of no." That vexation certainly doesn't slip past K'del, and nor does her answer; his expression tightens, though the unhappiness is not, plainly, directed at Faryn, but at the situation. "Official word," he says, then, as if relating something that she couldn't possibly know, "is that the Beastcraft will no longer allow their apprentices to Stand. Unofficial word is that some apprentices have attempted to resign their apprenticeship as a result, and have been billed for training, room, and board as a result." He lets that hang for a moment. "Seems like you might've got off lucky, then." There's a moment of stoicism that Faryn maintains very well through the beginning of his explanation, the official parts, which she apparently is fully aware of. It's the unofficial part that makes her jaw go taut, the little frown growing slightly larger and a little flare of anger in her eyes, sparked to life by his assessment of the situation, and her position in particular. "You haven't really met me, I don't think. I'm not lucky. That explains...they're never going to talk to me again. I'll keep my marks and be the person that...Hanson can't do that, can she? Coerce them like that?" She looks angry enough to spit, glaring first at K'del and then at his knot, like either will be a balm. "It's like she never had a dream in her life." K'del half lifts one hand as if to say 'easy, easy' as his expression darkens and turns... well, more serious, but certainly not accusatory. "Unfortunately," he says, with a sigh that suggests he's not altogether thrilled with the craft's actions himself, "They can. She can. And there's nothing," his irritation and annoyance are audible, in this, "we can do about it, except offer a place for those who've left the craft. Not like we can pay people's debts off for them, no matter how much we'll need what candidates we can get." Beat. "I'm sorry. For raising it." Faryn's easy, but there is something about the injustice of it that means even his silent gentling doesn't really calm wherever her mind has gone. His apology is waved away, with the rest of his unsatisfactory explanation and a rejecting shake of the head. "No, it's not your fault. It's mine." Which, maybe, explains why she's still annoyed. "That wasn't the point, when I left. I just wasn't...a lot of things. Smart, apparently, is one of them." K'del lets out a breath, the exhale whistling through his teeth as one hand braces itself against the nearest bookcase. "You couldn't have known she'd react like that," he points out, then. "It's not like you did it to make a point, right?" RIGHT FARYN? "You did it because you wanted to leave, for whatever reason. Apprentices have always had that option. Shells, we've Searched Journeymen before, on occasion, and even that has been fine. Unfortunately, like holds, crafts are remembering that they don't need us quite so much, in the Interval." It's hard to discount reason when she hears it, and Faryn begins flicking the book against the inside of her wrist, but she's letting that scowl soften into something more manageable, so it's a start. "No," is for both of his first, "I suppose not. I'm surprised she didn't send me a bill. Maybe it just got lost in between and she'll just come to collect one day, the terrible hag." She bites the inside of her cheek, brings her gaze to his. "I'm sorry. This wasn't what I intended. I just thought - helping Farideh seemed more important, in the moment." Meeting her gaze squarely, K'del allows the right corner of his mouth to twist up slightly-- not a smile, but perhaps distantly related to one. "You don't need to apologise," he says. "It's a mess, but... had it not been you, it could just as easily have been someone else. Farideh..." His thoughts on High Reaches' youngest goldrider go unvoiced, then, because abruptly, he changes course. "What you should do, now, is start thinking about how the Weyr might make Search a positive for the crafts. Can we change the PR, make it in their benefit... or, at least, not to their detriment. Reckon Search may need to be something that gets addressed directly in our contracts with the crafts, going forward. That's Farideh and Irianke's bailiwick, not mine, but..." Beat. "Think on it. Make it a project." "A project," Faryn echoes, one eyebrow going up. "PR. Sir --" she starts, then clamps down on whatever it is she was going to say in favor of, "I'll see what I can do, but I cant promise anything. The Beastcraft isn't known for it's PR; you can probably tell." K'del's crooked smile acknowledges that last point, but it's the rest he's quick to reassure Faryn on. "Nothing official," he promises. "And nothing binding. But you were a crafter for how many turns? Just... give it some thought. See what other people think. The worst that can happen is you can't think of anything, and that's fine too." He releases the shelf he's been leaning upon, straightening. "And in the meantime, be the best helper you can be, for Farideh. She needs it." The jut of his chin is confirm and, perhaps, a farewell: he looks about to turn and disappear again, though he's not gone yet. Faryn doesn't have the muster in her for a smile, not really. What she gives him in return is a press of her lips into a thin, humourless line. "A long time. And I still never pegged Hanson for this. I'll try," again, with a little shake of the head as she cuts a look past him to her table and abandoned books. "I don't know what I can do to calm her black little soul," so, yea, still angry, "but I'll think about it. And I'll help Farideh," is very sincere. "You don't have to convince me. I may need the marks." Now would probably be the time for K'del to say something honest and genuine and personal... but it does rather seem as though he's not actually sure of Faryn's name, and perhaps that's why he settles for another rueful nod, another rueful smile. "I believe you," he says. "It'll blow over, though, I promise. One way or another. Good luck--" Faryn. Then he begins to leave. Is it clear he doesn't know her name? Probably, but Faryn seems quite content to keep it that way right now. He can get the name of the wayward ex-herder who has stuck a thorn in his side from someone else. A grunt suffices as thanks, and she lets him get a few steps away before she exits the aisle herself, that book in hand, all to settle in going through them, however distractedly. |
Comments
Alida (23:15, 27 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
Iiiiiinteresting. >.>
Varied (07:52, 28 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
Projects for everyone!
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