Logs:Dun-Dun-DUN
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| RL Date: 2 August, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Iolene |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iolene makes a big confession. Brieli shares news of the other Weyrs an their opinions on High Reaches. |
| Where: Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 5, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions |
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| There's a little bit of a glazed look deep in Iolene's eyes, even as feigned interest tries to keep her countenance brighter as Maretta explains just how a /Weyr's/ storage system works. Every so often, Io looks like she might interject, but the overly confident assistant Headwoman (so intent on showing her new boss just why she's perfect for the big spot) waves past any would-be (and unvoiced) concerns, concluding with a very decisive; "And that's how it really work." Then, in possibly the most unpolitic maneuver of the day, she inquires, "How are you and Ysavaeth doing?" Which leaves Iolene with her own tight-smiled visage and a curt: "We're fine. Thank you for showing me the storagen caverns. I'll just stand here and absorb what I can and stop taking up so much of your valuable, productive time." It's only been a few months and Iolene's learned the art of deft emphasis. The newest goldriders have moved past the initial storerooms briefing in their training, but Brieli has still offered to be here - possibly to avoid her lectures, which are likely about as thrilling as the intricacies of the storerooms, or possibly to do exactly what she's said she'd do: help out Iolene, support her in these first shaky months. Backing her up in this case means listening, feigning her own rapt interest, telling Maretta she'd entirely forgotten the odd thing, thanks so much for the reminder, and so on. Once the assistant headwoman is done, and Iolene's offered her deft dismissal, her dark shadow will speak up as well, smooth and easy, "Yes, Maretta - thank you. I'm sure you have a lot to do, and going over this again cuts into your schedule." She must be a terribly busy woman, yes? With two goldriders, albeit one untrained and the other still a weyrling, to contend with, the assistant pauses, as if weighing her options to stand her ground. But these are people who will, irrelevant to rumors about how nuts the new Weyrwoman is, be her boss some day. She'll smile graciously and incline her head in deference and head to what other tasks she needs to oversee today. "A little- confident," remarks Iolene in the wake of Maretta's departure. Her continued voice is a little rueful, "I really need to hire a Headwoman before she starts staking claims in the office prematurely. But later-." The blonde woman looks about the vast stores with its shelves and its intricate organization system and purses her lips. "It's hard to imagine by the end of the Interval, this might all be empty." Not quite shaking her keys after the assistant, but fingering the ring she now has at her hip, on her belt, Brieli notes, "I suppose there's nothing wrong with confidence, but... she does seem to think she's the woman for the job." With a quirk of her lips, "You might want to send someone to see if she's moved anything in, just in case." At Iolene's last, she follows the blonde's gaze, her expression unreadable as she looks over the shelves. "It's our job to try to make sure that might not happen, yes? There's no reason it shouldn't last... but the question, I imagine, is how long it all keeps coming in. There must be Intervals where all went as it should." "The records seem fairly dire in those respects." Iolene says of Intervals that went as they should. "I wish there were a way to change something so that that won't happen. There are people who believe we need to keep training and behaving as if we were in a Pass situation, so the knowledge and drills don't get lost for when we need it. But it's a really awkward status quo. Where we're not doing anything of value to our coverage areas and yet expect to be fed and clothed." From the dubious tone the goldrider takes, it's clear she doesn't agree. "It's hard to believe there were nine other Intervals where no one tried to do something productive." Out of lack of anything better to do, Brieli moves over to one of the shelves, one with an assortment of door handles in a box on it, which she starts picking through idly. "It does seem ridiculous that no one ever considered anything else. Or that, if they did, no one higher up considered it a good enough idea to move it further along. But given that people seem to enjoy a purposeful blindness to the potential in change..." She glances over to Io with a wry near-smile, a shrug. "Perhaps it shouldn't be shocking. But that doesn't mean that we can't - I know Azaylia doesn't like the idea of getting something for nothing." The talk of change and the reaction of the people blanches Iolene's face. So instead of responding immediately, the lanky woman starts trailing a finger down a shelf, each area marked clearly what should be stored there. She stops at a shelf meant for lanterns, studying each of the standard ones before moving a few steps down to the more intricately carved ones. "These must be for when someone important visits," Io speculates aloud before exhaling. "I imagine that's why the Weyr agreed to transport hundreds of people out to an island to die. I can't imagine anyone would do it without some marks involved. No, I don't want to imagine that people would be that cruel purposefully. And I don't want this Weyr to become a thug for hire." That look on the Weyroman's face sobers Brieli - beyond where she is already, at least - her expression more serious, shading towards angry, her brown eyes dark and flinty. Directing all that at the door handles, tossing one back into the lot with a clatter, "It's always about marks, isn't it. Losing them, getting them. People live, die, are exiled over little more than marks in ledgers." Staring hard into the box, the anger is pushed back, down, and more calmly, apologetically, "I can believe it would be done for other reasons. Favors owed. Blackmail. Familiar ties. Sheer apathy. Lack of spine." That last is said derisively, then she glances over at Io, asks carefully, "Isn't that what we were with Boll?" "Boll?" Iolene either feigns obliviousness well, or- and there it is, that sudden recollection. "Boll. I don't know the specifics other than Fort made Boll very angry and Boll tried to leave Fort's protection. It wouldn't surprise me, though, from my brief meeting with one of their goldriders, that that's the standard tactic for diplomacy at Fort. Make everyone angry and bully beat them into staying. Though," the blonde leans against the shelves, arms folded over her chest, and those dark blue eyes of her studying Brieli's flinty anger with no small measure of curiosity, "It'd be nice to have Boll as a Hold that looks to us. Fresh citrus all the time would be wonderful." Her intonation lightens, and the study of Brieli takes on a more cajoling look. "You ok?" Still careful, "I haven't heard anything from them, but what I read was that we accepted money for services while Fort was having their issues with the Hold? Regardless of how they go about their business," And Brieli has a little eye-roll here for Iolene's description of Fortian diplomacy. "It does seem a little like a hired-thug arrangement. No matter how the records spin it." Iolene's study doesn't seem to be noticed, but she's usually oblivious, or pretending to be. Shifting her attention from the shelf to Io, trying to seem abashed, no big deal, "I just... K'del spoke to me the other day. About trying to change your mind, basically. Keep you on the path of tradition and righteousness, as it were. It bothers me. I know he cares about you, but at the same time..." Something in her expression is uncomfortable; she thinks it's wrong. "Fort," and Iolene has no delicacy here, even with the slight pause to collect her thoughts. "Fort promised to support K'del's bid to oust Tiriana and then reneged. I don't hold much by Fort's ability to play politics on any scale, big or small." But then there's a rueful twist to her lips that thins out slowly the longer Brieli speaks. "At the same time?" The repetition ends in a lilt, a questioning urge to finish her thought. "Really. So that's... all right." Brieli is thoughtful, dark eyes narrowed as she starts to fit pieces into place, build a landscape in her mind. Briefly amused, "It goes that way, doesn't it? One thing after another, little cuts that add up. And then..." Where we are now. Leaning against the shelf, the weyrling doesn't look like she wants to finish her thought, but she wrinkles her nose, goes ahead more gently than she might have a moment ago, "At the same time, I don't know if it's right to try to change someone. It's like... this has given you a purpose, and he wants to kill it so you can be... what he thinks you are. Not who you are." With a shake of her head, "I don't know anything. I'm sorry. It just bothered me. I didn't like it, he should talk to you, not... me of all people." The lean of Iolene's body sags a little, as the meaning of Brieli's words impact. She's quiet a very long time, her arms cradling around her body with the fingers latching onto the shelf behind her - as if that's all that's holding her up. There silence continues, though her lips part, as if to speak, but with that hesitation of not quite knowing what to say or maybe, more likely, how to say it. "Things-," begins the goldrider, her dark eyes glancing about the room and when not finding anyone, exhales again in an audible sigh, "Things have already changed and no one really realizes it. K'del, he doesn't know." Brieli looks really really sorry, as if she wishes she hasn't said all that, as if she'd like to take it back; but at the same time, there's a resignation - it's what she sees as the truth, and by that anger of hers, it's meant to protect Iolene in some way. Which might be why she looks so apologetic, why the usually undemonstrative goldrider moves to grip the blonde's shoulder, looking at her steadily to make sure she's okay. There's a little smile as Io speaks - she doesn't seem to pick up on the undercurrents - and she notes, "True enough? K'del sees what he wants, sometimes. I think." Iolene, to her credit, doesn't immediately burst into tears, but her body turns limp under Brieli's grip. And maybe she's moving in for a kiss, maybe new rumors will emerge of K'del not being the only one to enjoy same-sex sheet play. But there are quiet words, where her mouth barely moves; words uttered into Brieli's ears alone that even the flies on the wall won't be able to figure out. Brieli senses "Iolene's breath is warm and the words are so quiet, they could be very difficult to hear. But the phrase? It's so short. "Ysavaeth never rose." And then, the true dilemma, "There won't be any eggs."" Somehow, Brieli doesn't look too worried about Iolene kissing her, but she does look a little confused. Initially. Then, she just freezes at that whisper, her fingers tightening on Io's shoulder briefly, dark eyes gone wide. But that's all schooled away in no time; if the Weyrwoman had to say that to anyone, apparently the weyrling was a good pick. Over a cough, "Well. That's... an issue." Her look to Io is perhaps bewildered - how does this end? Iolene's look is as blank as Brieli's is bewildered. "I... I need help. I don't know." But the crypticness of those words will have to suffice for now as a noise outside this particular chamber shifts the goldrider's attention over. "I don't think K'del understands, or wants to understand how change could be better for the Weyr. Maybe not big changes all at once like I wanted, but something." It's a familiar mantra from Io, and thus innocent enough -- and definitely more innocent than where the whisper could lead. "Do- do you think what I'm wanting to do is wrong?" "I... I don't know what would help." Unless Brieli can produce a clutch from thin air, she's at a loss at the moment, but she's thinking; she has that look, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. That noise has the weyrling looking over as well suddenly, brushing curls back behind her ear to cover in case anyone comes around the corner. Voice still low, "I don't think... I don't know if he wants to understand. But it might be because he's frightened of what it might mean for the Weyr." That's offered up grudgingly, but; "Even so, it doesn't mean that new ideas are just some... stupid distraction. We need them to make sure..." She pauses, looks around the shelves. "They don't know what it's like to go hungry." Then, certain, surprised, "No, of course not. I never have. Now K'del has multiple reasons to dislike me." There's a little grin for that. "K'del is what he is. I love him for what he is and what he believes, but grams always made sure I knew that you don't have to agree with everyone to still like them." Iolene pushes herself of that shelf given the opportunity and walks to look over that box of door knobs. To the box; "They all believe so strongly in the dragons." Another throw away comment that doesn't segue with the conversation before or what comes next. "Knowing hunger and coldness and- do you-," the box of knobs gets one last look before Io's turning her head around so she can look past her shoulder at Brieli. "Sometimes, I see this anger in you and I'd like to flatter myself thinking it's about the situation I'm in, but-... are you really- is there anything I can do for you while I'm still Weyrwoman?" Over a sigh, "That is true. I'd just like to think that he were as accepting. I'd say something about being judgmental, but I don't think I can throw stones on that count." Brieli is wry; at least she can admit it. As for the dragons, with a shrug, "If you'd been raised with Harper lessons, you might be the same. There's not many who are raised to think anything of dragons but that they are perfect, brilliant, infallible. And while Iesaryth may be all these things..." A smirk. "I wonder." It takes her some time to answer, to meet Iolene's gaze; when she does, simply, "I think life hasn't been easy for either of us. And you've done so much already. I'd like..." A flush begins to show on her cheeks, despite best efforts. "I'd like everyone not to know what I do with my free time, but I'm not sure there's anything to be done about that anymore." "I think-," Iolene has to smile at the last and the flush that colors Brieli's cheeks. "Impressing Iesaryth made that part very difficult." She is, at least vague about what she may or may not know of Brieli's situation and the weyr she, herself, used to reside in. "I don't think that's anything I can do for you, or anyone can do other than simple discretion on your part, but not caring what other people think is freeing too. In its own way." A door knob is lifted, studied, and placed back down. It's an ugly affair that looks like a creepy face carved into the wood. "If my great grandmother were never exiled, I might have grown to be a lady holder. I don't know if we'd have ever met then and I wonder- ..." Iolene's smile deepens in a sadder way, "I wonder if we'd have even liked each other enough to manage polite conversation. Leova asked if I'd think of all these changes had I not been an exile's descendant." "I have to admit, that was not something I considered. This... loss of privacy. I might have, but." But, no. Brieli was apparently considering other things at the time. There's only so many angles that can be examined. With a bemused twist of lips, a shake of her head as she looks into the doorknob box again, "I usually don't. I don't know why this bothers me so much." With another little wrinkle of her nose, she tells Iolene, "There's so many little things like that. If my parents hadn't passed, would I have ever come here? I don't know. And maybe you might not have. But that's what makes your perspective valuable, in my mind. It's different." She considers for a time before offering her next; "Iesaryth spoke to Elaruth. She calls Hraedhyth 'the Exile's Daughter'. Somehow, I don't think she came up with that on her own." Iolene's face tightens at the mention of Elaruth and the words spared of that. "I. See." But further commentary on Fort or the Fortian Weyrleadership, that is silently rife in the twisted expression on Iolene's normally genial face, is suppressed. "How does Iesaryth feel about that designation? How- is she doing in general? Ysavaeth has been preoccupied with my plans and our ideas and I don't know if she's been as maternal this far from the hatchings." Trying to be positive, "Fianth at Southern seemed less concerned with the details of who was in charge as much as rumors. I'm not sure how the dragons spread things so far." Brieli shakes that little musing off with a toss of dark curls, obviously bothered by Iolene's expression. "But. I suppose it's not surprising. Iesaryth... told Hraedhyth not to tell her dam. Hraedhyth didn't seem to mind, but Iesaryth-- we discussed it all, after. She's fine; she's been trying to find out what she can here and there. Igen won't speak to her at all." This position will age you early if Iolene is any indication as that face, too youthful months ago, strains with tension for keeping her tongue now. "I can't see the Weyr Council agreeing to oust a second Weyrwoman so soon after Tiriana, but I wonder if it wouldn't be better for the Weyr if I stepped down." The downtrodden words are followed quickly by a different take though, the slender girl's back straightening quickly: "But then, who will push forth any kind of change? Or at least the talk of it? I feel like this is something Ysavaeth and I must do, and well, I'll follow my own advice and not care what people think. Freeing, right? Liberating." "No, Io." Brieli is quick enough about that, certain - though how long can she really go on for? They'll come up with something? Maybe? "If it's what you feel like you should do, then... you should. People will always be afraid, they'll always misunderstand. Please, believe me - I don't mean to tell you these things to discourage you. It's just... if we don't know what they think, we don't know how to counter it, yes? We only need to care enough to work against it." She sounds like she knows what she's talking about at least; offers another shoulder-pat, a squeeze. "I think it's liberating to know your path. Everything else falls away." "We." Iolene takes the word in, repeating it in a litany as if she's savoring it a little and finding some measure of comfort in it. "I like that. We. I wish K'del were part of that we but-," the goldrider's shrug seems to indicate just how much of a lost cause that's likely to be. "Will you think on my other problem as well? You and possibly Iesaryth? Cause what Ysavaeth wants to do doesn't sit well with me..." And yet the whole situation is about to become all the more desperate. With a sad little smile, "I don't know if he can be, but. Maybe there'll be the right moment." Brieli can't quite keep that thread of doubt out of her tone, unable to fully commit to the idea that K'del might react to this news in a way that would be helpful. With a short, forceful sigh, running a hand through her hair, she nods to Iolene, a little wide-eyed. "We'll see what we can find. We're working in the infirmary, Azaylia and I, maybe there's something that could go wrong..." She doesn't ask what Ysavaeth wants to do; she's not sure she wants to know. After a moment, "Should we get lunch? Do you want to hear about the party? If you haven't already?" "Lunch sounds lovely. And talk of the party would be a welcome distraction." Little does she know... Iolene eases herself away from the box of doorknobs and begins to walk out of the storage caverns. Her arm girlishly links itself around Brieli's. "The weavers have me for a fitting later for my dress for Devaki's wedding, and say I'm not allowed to lose any more weight so- maybe we can sneak in to cold storage later and eat some ice cream too." The silver linings to everything. Stress eating, table for one. "I have something on order. It's white. I wonder if that was a bad idea? I have this fear someone will run into me with a glass of wine." Brieli is happy to take Iolene's arm, and grins widely at the idea of ice cream - it's not like she couldn't stand to put on a little weight here and there herself. And over lunch and dessert later, she'll be kind enough to edit out K'del's grouchy presence and concentrate on the people and Azaylia's shift to outgoing party girl and the other weyrling's introduction to N'rov, and anything entertaining from the evening. Nothing stressful. Enough of that for today. |
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Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Thu, 02 Aug 2012 23:08:42 GMT.
*squeak* ._.
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