Logs:Dragonrider Families
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| RL Date: 6 July, 2015 |
| Who: K'del, T'mic |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: T'mic has some questions. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 3, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions |
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| The skidmarks are still there, from where Jorrth ran and shoulder-checked the herdbeasts being stampeded his way by Cadejoth; the first was doled out to the bronze, a sign of respect, perhaps, as much as a keenness to knock another one over. It's the second that the blue has now, dragged a ways off, where he eats and converses with Cadejoth, perfectly content and at ease in the light snowfall. T'mic's long since joined K'del along the fence; it's near impossible to do otherwise, considering the dragons' partnership. He shrugs, and dusts another little bit of snow off a fencepost with the worn index finger of his glove. "...but I think I'm done sleeping now. Caught up. Starting to almost feel bored, but in a nice way?" "Hah," says K'del, leaning forward to press both arms flat upon the fence, his body hunched toward it and against the breeze and the snow carried with it. "Think I remember that feeling; not sure. Distant memory, really." Still, he turns his head to give T'mic a glance, smile in place despite his words. "You're nearly there, now. Get this month out of the way, and then you're all seniors, and it's less learning and more practicing, and that's different altogether. How's it feel?" "Been a while, huh?" It's good-natured, but T'mic still looks a little bit thoughtful, when he slants a glance over to his weyrleader. He directs a huff of air up toward his eyebrows, where a snowflake has settled. It's not entirely effective, but that flake does consider melting. "It's... not as weird as I thought it would be? I was almost starting to like the learning thing, but I guess that probably won't really stop. Not with him around." Jorrth is accorded a chin-nod. "I was dreading it before. When he was still real little. Now, though? Only some of it's strange." K'del's, "Mmm," is cheerfully thoughtful. "Gets like that, I think. Normal, really. You get used to things being a certain way, and there's something scary about-- but it stops being so. Because you're prepared, probably. There's always going to be some strangeness, but less and less. You've still a few months before you need to worry about wings, in any case, and after that... well, it all just becomes normal. You'll be a dragonrider, straight up." "That was the part that was freaking me out, before," admits T'mic. "I know I should've figured it all out in candidacy and stuff, but like... I just didn't want any dragons to die." A moment's silence after that; T'mic didn't attend that Fort hatching, and yet. "It's just... the plan was wife and kids, you know? The rest sort of happened." Whatever snow has since collected on that post is now squished by the elbow he uses to lean, as he turns to face K'del more squarely. "Can I ask you something?" This, now, turns K'del's expression rather more serious, those pale blue eyes turned directly to meet T'mic's in turn. "Of course," he says, without missing a beat. "Go on." Probably, "You're holdbred, right?" isn't actually the question. It's preamble; it's something of which T'mic is almost certain. "'Cause lots of people talk about you going off to Southern, for your weyrmate and stuff. Does it work? A family like that?" A nod confirms that yes, K'del is holdbred, for all that it's an unnecessary confirmation. It's the rest of the question that-- even if it surely can't be unexpected given everything that has come before-- has him turning his gaze away, exhaling lengthily before he can answer. "Yes," he says. "But-- it's more complicated than that, too. Feel guilty, being away from them, sometimes. A lot of the time. Easier, if you all live in the same Weyr. Even if they're fostered-- kids in sky weyrs is a bad idea, generally." Hesitantly, he glances back. "You can make it work. It's not as easy as it'd be, if you weren't a rider, but you can do it, if it's what you want." T'mic's brow has knit, while K'del was looking away, and his mouth has pulled off to the side, not fully buying it. "Can you, though? If you've got no time for them... and you've got your dragon, and everyone's just like having sex with each other all the time and everything?" K'del lifts one hand from the fence, using it, now, to tick points off on his fingers. "My situation's a little more complicated than most, given the positions Ali and I hold, and the fact that we live across the planet and in completely different timezones," is point number one. "Dragon's part of the family, really. You have a different kind of relationship with them, and... it can complicate things, but it doesn't prevent them. Not saying the sex thing can't be difficult for some couples, either, but most manage; flight sex is different." Point two. Point three. A pause. A sigh. "Wouldn't trade my family for anything. 'Hard' doesn't mean 'not worth doing.'" T'mic turns again to face out toward the pens, both elbows on the fence, now, and hands, too. He slides a foot back. And his forehead hits his forearms. "It sounds complicated." His neck cranes a bit, so that, instead of his forehead, his chin is braced on his arms. "And Jorrth's not even chasing yet. And I don't even know about kids anymore. Faranth, it's like you don't change at all, just the world you're trying to have does." "Complicated?" repeats K'del. "Sure. It's complicated. But-- it's not something you need to rush into immediately, right?" He leans back down towards the fence, rolling his shoulders back as he watches the dragons; silent, temporarily. Then, "Guess it's not really something you can plan out in advance. Depends on the person in question, what they want. For me... always knew I wanted kids. Didn't matter how complicated it was, or how much I struggled-- struggle-- with not having as much time for them as I'd like." T'mic looks back over to the bronzerider, and shakes his head. "It's not even... I'm not asking 'cause I want to go find a girl and keep her up in our place or anything. I just... was thinking. About how it's all like the exact opposite of what it was. Like, we managed not to get kicked out of Silver Thread, even at the end, when we were leading, and now we've almost got like a plan for where to go, but then all this other stuff keeps on trying to happen, and it's all the stuff that you grew up knowing was important, and about like... family duty and love and respect and stuff. And it's all different here." That big head gets a shake, reminiscent of the same motion in his dragon. Maybe even learned. "For most people, seems like, anyway." K'del's nod acknowledges everything T'mic has to say, though he's slower to actually speak for himself. "Yeah," is what he says, finally. "It is. Shells... I have more kids than I have fingers on one hand, and only the youngest three have the same mother. It's-- it's what you make it. What you decide to make it. And that's an adjustment. But if you want a traditional family? It's not impossible." "Wow," is all T'mic can think to say to that. And then, "Yeah." And then it's his turn to be quiet for a while. Until he can't help but laugh, and shake his head, and push himself up from the fence. "Sorry. I just... this is like the only thing I can't really bounce off of Jorrth. He understands everything else better than me, but this?" The bluerider makes an 'over the head' motion. Jorrth, he licks at one of the bones of his tackle-kill. "Really? Might change when he starts chasing, but-- well, maybe not, either. Cadejoth, he only really gets it because he's had long-term mates. Queens. Pretty sure he got it better when I was chasing anyone that moved, just like him." That was a long time ago, his expression implies, his cheeks pinker than the wind and cold ought to encourage. "Plenty of weyrfolk understand that better than a weyrmating, too. Lot of people don't much like my family-at-Southern bit." "Yeah," agrees T'mic. "Even I've heard those people." There's the slightest hint of a tease in there, and he goes so far as to push an elbow at K'del's side, rank forgotten in the moment. "Weyr's a lot different than the hold ever was. Gonna be strange, being able to go back there soon. Be all... weyrling T'mic and blue Jorrth." Which of course is said with a deeper pitch and great importance in his voice. K'del's too wry about that particular issue to pick up the tease immediately, though T'mic's elbow does, in the end, draw a smile-- he even laughs. "Right?" But the rest... "They'll think you're pretty impressive, I bet. Kids I grew up with did, anyway, and then I was going out of my way to prove I was still me. It's something, anyway. But strange, too; it's not home anymore. Never can be." "Guess my little brother does already," T'mic says. "What I hear, anyway." Then, a firm shake of his head. "Nah. I mean, here's home, now, but I got a big family back at Benden. It's always gonna be home too." And there's something in that which has him pushing off the fence, and taking a few steps back. Or maybe it's that Jorrth has finished his meal. K'del nods, but there's something else there; something he's not sharing. Perhaps it'll be different, for T'mic. "Hope it's everything you want it to be," he says, sincerely. "Hope the rest of weyrlinghood is, too. See you around, T'mic." A bob of the head, then. "Bye, K'del," answers T'mic, the vast difference in rank still, apparently, forgotten. And for now, K'del won't call him on it. Win! |
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