Logs:From The Sidelines
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| RL Date: 27 June, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys keeps Brieli and Iesaryth company while the other dragons glide. |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 2, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake. At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space. 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. There's gliding practice, this afternoon, and even the smallest and daintiest of the greens from Ysavaeth and Cadejoth's clutch are involved. Meara's leading the session, with most of the staff on hand to supervise; so far, it seems to be going without incident. While Iesaryth is not yet ready to be joining the class, it's been encouraged that she and her rider observe when they have the time-- and perhaps that's why Quinlys is standing off to one side of the group, involved except to provide 'company'. It must be said that it is sheer torture for Iesaryth to merely observe and not to just fly like the others already - it's in every lean line of her antiqued form, tense and agitated, wings rustling. Maybe that's another reason for Quinlys to be there as well. Brieli doesn't seem to have any issues restraining her dragon, but it does seem to be distracting her a little - less focused than is usual for the tall weyrling, it's possible there's a running argument going on in the background. A bemittened hand goes to her forehead as one of the tiny greens glides effortlessly, and she snaps, speaking aloud. "Because she's not as heavy as you, don't be deliberately stupid!" For Quinlys, there's an apologetic glance. "Sorry." "Oh, no, don't apologise." Quinlys has probably been observing the silent interplay between dragon and rider for as long as they've been out here, even if most of her attention is ostensibly on the gliders. "I'd be frustrated, too. Poor Iesaryth." The bluerider has not had much occasion to talk to Brieli in any personal way, of late, but her expression now is warm enough and without obvious lingering awkwardness. "Get her to give her wings a stretch, maybe? Those exercises. It help help keep her occupied, and the stronger they are... it really won't be too much longer before it's her turn to join in, I'm sure of it." Iesaryth huffs at the accusation of stupidity - deliberate or otherwise - and takes a few steps forward, reluctantly stretching her wings in the ways they're supposed to, but it's obvious she doesn't want to. "I... I feel like it's only so long before she just - goes and does something," Brieli confesses uneasily, unsettled at the idea or ratting her dragon out, or both. With a glance Quinlys' way, dark eyes concerned, "I don't want her to hurt herself. And I tell her that, but it doesn't seem to help much. It's - she knows how, but doesn't seem to get that her body can't yet. I hope it won't be like this... for everything." Quinlys sucks in a thoughtful, considering breath, meeting Brieli's glance with a square one of her own. "If we need to, we'll have Rielsath or Ysavaeth compel her to stay on the ground," she offers, though there's a note of uncertainty to it; she's still learning the ropes of this job. Her hands dig themselves deeper into the pockets of her coat, fingers curling up around themselves in the process, visible from outside. "I was going to say," she admits, wryly, "that it would be easier once she was gliding, because at least she'd have something, but I guess that's not really true. Once the pair of you are flying properly, maybe, because after that it's all just practice. There shouldn't be any need' too keep you back after that, I don't think. Not really." At that, Brieli looks entirely uncertain - in fact, dubious. "We can try," she says, in tones that makes it obvious she's a little wary about pitting golds in a battle of wills. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that - and I sincerely doubt that she'll mention it if she does anything." Shaking her head a little as she turns back to watch the others, offering Iesaryth an encouraging smile as she keeps working at her wings, "I thought not, once they're all in the air? Betweening is all mental, she's certainly sharp enough there. It's just waiting that's bothering her." Shoving her own hands in her pockets, quirking a wry grin, "The days seem to go quickly enough for me." "An injury now could keep her on the ground for a lot longer," warns Quinlys, but in a tone - and with an expression - that suggests she's well aware this is not exactly news. "I hope it doesn't come to that, either. Anyway. It's not so long. She's only a few sevens behind, and she's looking good with those exercises." The red-head shifts her shoulders, withdrawing one hand from her pocket so that she can wipe some of the snow the wind is pushing around off of her woollen hat. "They went fast for me, too; I remember that. I bet we'll have her quite contentedly in the air by the time Lady Issedi gets married." Wearily, "I know." Brieli doesn't seem to fault Quinlys for saying it; she's just likely tired of saying it herself. Looking at Iesaryth with a critical eye, she then tilts her head to watch the other weyrlings gliding, and agrees, "She doesn't seem all that much smaller, to me. It should be all right." For gliding. Flying might be a whole other matter. Shifting from foot to foot in the snow so her feet don't freeze, she has a shade of a smile for the wedding. "Azaylia will be pleased - she's been hoping we'd be able to go I wouldn't mind myself. It's interesting. I'm sure we'll be interesting as well." There's a wry note to her words, twist to her smile. "Ysavaeth's children. And the one from the South." Quinlys' expression is sympathetic, and the pink in her cheeks? It could just as easily be attributed to the winter wind. Giving Iesaryth an appraising glance, she adds, "I suspect she'll be larger than Hraedhyth, eventually - at least a little. If only patience were easier." Her attention slides back towards Brieli, then, giving the weyrling an unreadable expression before, carefully, "I rather suspect you will be, yes. We'll have to make sure you've all something decent to wear, even if it's just from stores. At very worst, you should be able to get a ride with someone else, but-- I think it should be fine. It's still a few months." "Patience is the very hardest thing in the world," Brieli says, perhaps a bit distracted, distant as she too turns her gaze back to the gold, who huffs a little again, like - now? Even though Iesaryth is well aware that minutes are not going to make a difference. That assessment surprises the weyrling a touch, as she blinks over at Quinlys, bemused. "Really? I'd never have thought. Hraedhyth is so..." Hraedhyth. She only lifts brows questioningly for the young weyrlingmaster's expression - what? - before, "I think we should be fine. Well. Azaylia and I. We found a few things, on Turnover, but they'll need working on. I could spend a little, I suppose. Depends. Do you have much in the way of gather wear?" "Hraedhyth is larger than life, but... I don't know. Gut feeling, maybe. Watch me be totally wrong in a few months; what do I know?" Quinlys seem cautious about defending her prediction too far, but it hasn't, at least, stripped the smile from her expression. "High Reaches' goldriders will all be under scrutiny, until the next queen rises, that's all. I have a gather dress, though it's the one I had when I Impressed so it probably needs replacing by now. I can't-- my guess is that the weyr will make sure you've something suitable, the pair of you, even if it comes out of your stipend later, once you're graduated and have marks to spare." 'You lucky things' is the unspoken implication, albeit one largely formed in jest. With a shrug, "I'll take it? I know less than you do; they made me anxious before. Some of them still do, a little - but she's meant to be as big as they get, so I suppose I'll get over it soon enough." Brieli is kind of entertained by the irony. As for scrutiny, "I know. I don't want to say 'fresh meat' to Azaylia, but in my darker moments, that's what I imagine, sometime around graduation. Maybe already. Who knows." She's still entertained, but it does now have a blacker shade, as she flashes a grin Quinlys' way. "You should get something new," she suggests easily - though the guess has her blinking again. "Oh. Well. We did find some decent things. I don't know if it'll be necessary, but if it has to happen..." "... you won't say no?" Quinlys is amused by that, pressing the corners of her mouth into a quirked grin. "They'll make sure you're presentable, at least. The real shopping trips can happen later. Maybe I will get something new." The thought of it has her lifting up onto her toes, hovering there for a few seconds before she drops back to feet flat on the ground. "'Fresh meat' is kind of it, yeah. It sucks, but--" What're you going to do? "Anyway, yeah. Pressure. If it gets too much, you talk to one of the Weyrlingmasters, or to Lujayn or Iolene or something. With luck Rielsath'll rise soon, and that'll distract things." "You should! And I might not, but Azaylia might feel badly for it. She doesn't think we're doing much to earm our keep at the moment. I've assured her this will change." Brieli glances over to Quinlys for confirmation on that, adding, "With Lujayn no doubt needing help, as Io wasn't 'trained'? What does that mean anyway? What would she teach her that Meara or Lujayn couldn't?" She won't speak Tiriana's name, for reasons unknown. Kicking some snow at her feet, "Soon. Or she'll wait and it'll be a tossup, like they're saying. It's not bothering me very much at the moment. I just don't fancy the idea of being a target for every would-be weyrleader. Rielsath rising soon would be better. For a lot of reasons." Quinlys' confirmation comes in a firm nod that precedes her reply to Brieli's remarks. Partway through, she turns her gaze off towards the gliding weyrlings, thoughtful, but still clearly listening. "Tiriana refused to let Iolene be trained," she explained. "We helped her, some. I know Lujayn gave her some secret training. But-- it should probably change, now. It's important. Perhaps the three of you might learn together," she muses, turning her gaze back on Brieli. "I don't understand the half of it, but you'll definitely be pulling your weight, in time. It'd bother me." She explains that in her follow-up, adding, "I mean, people looking at me as a pathway to power. Not knowing if a person was interested in me for me. Shells, now I'm making it sound awful. I'm sure it'll be long sorted out before they're ready to rise. That's still turns and turns away." With a glance back to the bluerider, "She still says she's not really a weyrwoman. She and Azaylia, the two of them..." Brieli shakes her head a little in frustration, but it's not really borne of annoyance; she explains, "I don't like how they speak about themselves sometimes. It's... It doesn't help. Themselves, or their position. But I'd like that. I think that would be a good thing." She doesn't say whether it might be good for Io, or for all of them - maybe both. As for the last, the men, she wrinkles her nose, kicking up a little mound of snow. "People are already thinking of it, Quinlys. Talking about it. Talking to me about it. Already. It is what it is, but it's happening." Concern etches itself into Quinlys' expression as she listens; her nod is an unhappy one. "I hope we can work on that," she says, quietly. "Iolene tried to give me Ysavaeth, when we first Impressed. It would've been easier, if Tiriana hadn't been so-- but she was. And so now we've got to fix that, and help Azaylia, too." There's something resolute in her tone as she says that, though it fades into weariness as she adds: "That's just screwed up. I'm sorry. Not-- I mean, not that I think it's my fault or anything. But I am sorry that it's happening. You ought to be able to get through weyrlinghood at least, in peace." "Oh. Oh dear." That's all Brieli has for that, looking a bit disquieted - perhaps that fits a few pieces together to form a larger picture. With a frown, careful, "I am somewhat glad that she was gone so soon after I arrived." Somewhat. Nodding to Quinlys, she seems to be on the same page, though she'll note, "I think Hreadhyth is helping Azaylia, though. She's a little different, sometimes. Less..." She draws up her shoulders, hunching in on herself. Dropping the pose with a resigned little smile, "I don't know. I don't know if that was an excuse to talk to me or the reason for talking to me. -- That's the problem. May as well get used to it." "She was--" Quinlys' low breath makes her seem uncomfortable, somehow: she's once again staring at the gliding weyrlings, giving them her attention in lieu of Brieli. "She had strong opinions. I hope, without her, the four of you can learn to work together. With each other, not without." There's no direct reply to Brieli's assessment of Azaylia, excluding that faint, thoughtful nod, but the last-- "I suppose so. It seems dismal, though. Unfair. But at least you have all the more reason to buy pretty dresses." It's not really a realistic answer to it, and the glance the bluerider aims back at Brieli, now, seems well and truly aware of it. "I have 'strong opinions'. She had a man killed, and wasn't a teenager when she did it," says Brieli flatly. She's not looking at Quinlys either, instead at Iesaryth, who is pretty much done with these stupid exercises already. The weyrling's opinion delivered, she's quick enough to move on. "I think we can. I don't see any reason why we couldn't. And... Everything's unfair. It's unfair to Iesaryth that she can't glide with the others. But - not everyone knows about what's happening here. We just think it's the center of the universe. Perhaps there's hope after all. And yes, pretty dresses might help. Perhaps it can be an official outing." With a grin, she nods to the gold. "I think she's about done with this for today - can I take her in before she gets too grouchy?" That reference has Quinlys shooting a glance back at Brieli, wariness suddenly visible in her expression - or perhaps it's just consternation? Biting her lip, she nods, confirming most of the rest of what the weyrling has to say without audibly answering it. "Of course," she agrees. "Take her in, cosset her a bit. The rest of them won't be too far behind you, I suspect. Look after yourself, okay?" Pausing a moment at the bluerider's glance, Brieli just nods in return and flashes a smile. "You too. Thanks - and don't freeze out here. I'll make sure the fires are going." And she collects the visibly irritated dragon, both tramping through the snow and back to the barracks. |
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