Logs:Get A Dragon
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| RL Date: 23 June, 2011 |
| Who: Devaki, Rhaelyn, Iolene |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki and Iolene have an interlude that's interrupted by Rhaelyn. Rhaelyn has an idea to get a dragon, but no idea how to follow through. |
| Where: Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 1, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
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| Devaki is seated in one of the chairs over in the corner, the walking stick resting against the arm of the chair. His arms are resting along the arm rests, fingers dangling lanquidly over the side. His eyes are closed, breathing even, though the manner in which he sits -- back straight -- suggests that he doesn't sleep, though could easily be mistaken otherwise. On his lap, are a pile of well-used hides. The sound of girlish laughter precedes Iolene's arrival in the common room, just one of three golden-haired girls that cluster around a prettier blonde one. It's a sound that's not oft heard these days, Io's laughter, and it rings pleasantly in the cozily outfitted chamber. There are diamond glitters of what was once snow remnant in the girl's hair, and for once Iolene's donned on a pair of boots to protect her rather calloused feet. She's about to follow the posse of islanders back to their barracks, when seemingly sleep-ridden seated Dev in the corner captures the young girl's dark blue gaze. Bidding her friends a farewell, and garnering a few curious looks from them, the girl traipses over, snow-touched boots and all and leans forward a breadth away from where Dev's nose is. "Boo?" is a quiet interjection into the man's thoughts. Or dreams. The slight tip of head indicates Devaki's not unaware of the laughter and passersby, though he doesn't stir. Nor does he hear Iolene's approach -- the downside of so many excellent hunters on the island. Devaki's eyes snap open at that quiet word, body rigid for a beat before he recognizes Iolene and relaxes. "Scared me," he's not afraid to admit, smile twitching his lips. His eyes flicker past her briefly, then back to the girl in front of him, a gesture to the chair on his right invitation it seems, as pale eyes study her. "You seem... happy," he concludes, with a smile. "What've you girls been up to?" "Don't I always?" returns the girl, an arch element claiming her smile. It's a smile that stays unwavering in place until he mentions what she seems and then - then it falters, slipping about the edges uncertainly. Maybe she has no right to be happy, even for a moment, and those dark-shaded light eyes cast downwards briefly before lifting, muted smiles once more. "We had a snowball fight out in the bowl. It was-," so many choice words could be inserted here, and Iolene's mind visibly dances through all of them before settling on a diplomatic, "Nice to exert some energy," rather than, nice to get out of prison, nice to be doing something other than moping for change, nice to-... She has the nerve to perch on the very edge of his knees, all skin and bones now that the muscles of her occupation have fled her illness-ridden frame. "You look tired." Devaki's smile deepens as Iolene describes the snowball fight. He looks envious, if anything. "I'm glad. We should -- make ourselves happy. Because this place won't help us /be/ happy. We have to do it ourselves." There's a flicker of surprise in his gaze as she perches on his knees, though he doesn't look unhappy about it, certainly. "I am," he concedes, at her observation, "Tired. I don't know why. Tired all the time. Still getting over being sick, I guess." It certainly doesn't seem like he's bounced back quite as well as some of the others his age -- but he brushes over it with a dismissive wave of hand, "And how are you doing? With -- everything?" Iolene's shoulders draw in, part shrug, part reflexive hunch, and a slow rose climbs her neck to spot her winter pale cheeks. How she's doing is put on hold while a hand lifts to drift to his hair, resettling some of his curls. "You read too much. You think too much. Have you been outside much since-," does she really have to end that statement? "Dev," the name is mentioned lowly, her head tipping in to convey an air of confidence and secrets, "Tell me what's going on." Rhaelyn heads in from the classroom. Rhaelyn has arrived. Her words elicit low, chuckled amusement from Devaki. "I think too much, huh? Don't think anyone's ever accused me of that before -- not that it's probably not true, but I don't think it's a bad thing. Do you?" His head tips to better study Iolene's profile. There's something that passes in his expression but he's quick to hide it. "No, not since Turnover," his voice is remarkably even for all that. At her latter question, he hesitates, obviously uncertain as he watches her a beat, two -- and it stretches into silence. In one of the far corners of this cozily-furnished room, Dev is seated in an arm chair with Iolene perched at the very edge of his knees in what could seem intimate, but comes off more like a little girl, all skin and bones, bothering an older sibling. His silence becomes hers too, and the rose about her neck deepens, even a simple shake of her head unable to mitigate it's continued climb. Instead, Iolene looks back down at her own knees, suddenly a little less happy than when she came in bedecked in melting snow. A decision is made, while staring at her hands, and when she looks up she graces Dev with a wider smile, one that stretches up to her eyes and for all intents and purposes, appears genuine. Her arms reach out to give the man a hug, drawing him away from the armchair if he doesn't protest. "Everything'll be ok," is her velvet voice, infused with as much cheer as she can without sounding false. "You should come out with us sometime. The snow is much nicer when you're warmly ensconced in furs." The look Devaki gives Iolene is one of mixed reaction: something protective, and something amused, too. "Not yet," he disagrees, "But it will be." There's a hard kind of determination in his voice. "I'm following leads, Io. I don't know if there's anything -- maybe nothing. But I'll find something to prove our case irrefutably, so no one can deny us." His demeanor changes as he talks, something vibrant and intent in the way he gestures. Then, at her hug, he's surprised, though he returns it swiftly enough, hands wrapping around the girl's thin frame, laugh softening his voice, "The furs I'm fine with. I'm not that fond of shoes, yet," he admits, with a laugh, wiggling his bare feet as if to prove it. Rhaelyn comes quietly through the caverns with a trio of girls. She is quiet while the other girls chitter together over something they must have just witnessed. Coming upon Devaki and Iolene, the other girls glance back at Rhae when she slows, "I guess we'll see you later tonight? At the Oasis?" Big smiles from the others and a mild nod from the Rhaelyn. "Sure," She says it without much luster, her voice as distant as her expression. Without her friends, she wanders closer to the otheras, lifting a hand to wave. Iolene's admission of, "Me neither," in response to his remark on shoes is punctuated with her wriggling her feet out of her boots. They clunk with a satisfying clatter to the stone ground and her own legs lift so her toes wiggle visibly. But it's not her immediate response that dwells in the thoughts that furrow her brow, and shortly, after a silence that's only a few breaths, she considers aloud, "Elgin... Elgin said something the other day that worries me. I used to be scared. I'm not scared anymore, but- I worry. We used to be happier whe we had less." But further talk trails off as familiar voices at the entrance to the common room turns her head, and she spies out a Rhaelyn who's drifting closer. A split second is all she needs to slide off Devaki's knee, standing abruptly, and a trill of fingers wave to the other girl. Her, "Hey!" is an easy sort of call over. Devaki seems to consider that for a beat. "Maybe we were. And we will be again." He's frowning, though, more at Iolene's words than anything he's considering. "What did Elgin say that scared you?" His hands rest loosely around Iolene still, more as a way to steady her and make sure she doesn't fall as she kicks off her boots and wiggles her toes around, earning a low chuckle of response. Belatedly, he takes note of Rhaelyn's approach, and, with an easy manner that is normal for the islander, gestures towards a chair in wordless invitation. "Io was just trying to convince me I should go out and romp around in the snow." Rhaelyn's expression turns appologetic when Iolene gets up so quickly, "You don't have to. Get up I mean." Her smile comes around slowly, looking at the pair of them, hesitating on their moment of private conversation. "I don't mean to intrude." And while she doens't 'mean' to, her ears prickle up at Elgin's name, one eyebrow quicking up a fraction. "I think romping in the snow is a grand idea. So long as there are warming drinks afterwards. Right?" Iolene's flush renews at Rhaelyn's apology and the blonde girl is quick to lift her hands in denial. "No, it's all right, I was just being silly and Dev was-," a beat, "Being Dev." In spite of herself, Io casts a hesitant smile down, which then flickers up to encompass Rhaelyn as well. "Thinking too much and worrying himself sick." What Elgin said or did that left Io worried enough to speak up is left unsaid for both sets of curious ears and eyebrows, the once vivacious girl latching onto this new one fluidly, "I was telling him how much nicer snow is once you have a set of furs over your shoulders to keep out the cold. Dierna, Cora, Coda, and I played earlier once Rorkes let us free for the afternoon." Devaki's quick enough to let his hands drop away as Iolene stands, not looking in the least embarrassed or like Rhaelyn was interrupting. Iolene's description of him earns an indulgent chuckle, and he doesn't disagree, leaning back in his chair. "Nothing wrong with thinking too much," he repeats, despite the lack of effect the first time. There's a faint twitch from Devaki at the mention of drinks. "You should be careful with that. These people put stuff in their drinks that -- makes people do awkward things. We can't afford to lose our heads. Too much is at stake." "No more awkward than what people did when those dragons had sex up there." Rhaelyn notes with a sly smile, pointing skyward. As for the snow and playing in it, the girl asks, "Did you know they wrestle in it too? The men do anyway, we watched them. Not sure I'm going to try that, but I'd watch again." She falls quiet, realizing that she's talking of such childish things and sighs softly, "So, just what is at stake?" What's at stake? What does that matter? Iolene's dark eyes round as Rhaelyn speaks, oh so slyly of Turnover and dragons. "Elgin said something similar," though the far off voice would be a clear indication this memory has to be sought after, rather than what interested ears might have perked up earlier for. "That... the dragons had something to do with it?" Quizzically lilting in the end, despite the lack of an actual question, the thin islander looks to Rhaelyn for answers. The sly smile earns a tip of head from Devaki, as if considering the other islander for a moment. "Maybe not, but at least we have control over /this/." The talk of wrestling earns a confused shake of head. "Why would they do that? It's freezing," is all he says. At Rhaelyn's question of what is at stake, he looks surprised. "You have to ask?" Pointedly, he doesn't comment on the dragons, though the way he leans forward just a little indicates his interest in the answer, all the same, glance darting briefly to Iolene then settling on Rhaelyn. "I want to hear what your answer is." Pale eyes size Devaki up, thoughtful, "Do you think us acting our best will make them give us fine things? They aren't going to get rid of us. Or give us anything. We'll have to take what we want and deserve." She's comfortable enough saying it, but her words sound practiced almost. About the flight, Rhaelyn shakes her head, "I wasn't there. But Mara said that people were naked out by the lake and having sex. E'dre says that is what happens when the dragons mate." She shudders in disgust. "Greens have mated a lot before. No one did that then," points out Iolene. Indeed, greens rising are a weekly event. It's a tangent from Rhaelyn's original conversational intent, but it's the one that interests the young teenager the most. "Why would they-, I mean, in public?" Aghast that, the idea of naked bodies writhing outdoors by the lake induce a tightening about Iolene's hold-style island-bred upbringing. "That's just what E'dre said to me. Maybe he was meaning just the gold one." Rhaelyn lifts up her shoulders, frowning that she doesn't have the answer or perhaps that she was given misleading information. It's difficult to tell. "And anyway, my stomach feels sick when the green ones mate too." for what it's worth. "You should ask them why they did. They call 'us' the savages. Hmph." "No, I have no expectation of handouts. But if we act like idiots with no sense, no one will give our claims of Blood credit. And why should they?" Devaki says, with a shake of head. His eyes narrow briefly at Rhaelyn's words. "Yes, we have to take what we deserve. But we also have to be smart about it. And," he adds with a twitch of lips, "Subtle." He too, seems peterubed by the idea of naked people at the lake. "There are plenty of empty rooms -- surely they could have a little decency," he says with a wrinkle of nose. "Who calls us savages?" From where Iolene stands, she turns from Devaki to Rhaelyn and then back again, perpetually quizzical. "Apparently," the young woman remarks, attempting to infuse humor into the situation, "I haven't been talking to the right sorts of mainlanders." As for what's a stake? She might be deliberately ignoring that thread of conversation. The word 'subtle' makes Rhae smile, "Of course. " Safe with her own kind right? As for any rights they and their blood might have? Her lips compress and flex but she decides not to remark on it, not yet. Too many doubts draw lines between her brows. She says instead, "I have heard it whispered more than stated bold-faced to be honest." "To us? Certainly," Devaki reassures, "As other islanders are the few we /can/ trust. And for yourself? What is your answer?" he asks Rhaelyn. The lack of comment about Blood goes noted, and probably filed away for later, knowing the mindhealer. His mouth presses into a thin line, and all he says is, "Make note who whispers it, then. One day-- they will regret it." There's a definite thread of certainty in the young islander's voice. The previously mentioned worry score lines along Iolene's brow and her stance shifts, a step taken closer to the seat Dev's claimed, her hip finding the armrest to lean against as she half-sits. The turn of her frame aligns her behind the man, even though he's seated, shrinking small, and she looks up at Rhaelyn, disquieted. "I would hope that we could speak honestly to each other. Too many people too many secrets now." A brief pause pulls her lips down, a sharp contrast to the happy laughter that preceded her entrance into the common room. "There are kind people here too," begins the girl, thoughtful, "Just as there are-," the frown twitches once, the twice, into a would-be smile that never flourishes, "Not so kind people amongst us as well." "I think we will have to pry what is ours from their hands. Even if we had books filled with records and accounts like those dragon-hatching records, none of them will 'give' anything away. I want E'dre to fly me places. I want to see White Bluff. They won't even allow that. Isn't it strange?" Rhaelyn's smile has an edge to it but she tries to sigh it away, "I don't know....others amoung us feel our elders are not being honest with us. We need to get rid of those thoughts." "We need more than-- records," Devaki says, after a notable pause. "Even if we had them, they will accuse us of making it up. There will be evidence somewhere on this side. Somewhere. But it's been eighty Turns, so who knows if there's any trace left. It's just a matter of stumbling across the right record, or the right person, or-- something." He seems determined, either way. He tips his head up to look at Iolene, then admits, "I haven't met too many of the residents here, I'll admit. Van, I've gotten to know. And one of the healers." He doesn't look too pleased at Rhaelyn's comment about the sentiment towards their elders. "They're doing their best, but even they-- have never faced a situation like this. And I think they're just as split about what to do, which.. given they represent us, makes sense. I think some people just prefer to be told what to do rather than figure it out for themselves." Iolene's lips purse, quirking from side to side in thought and she piggybacks onto what Dev says. "I don't really get the idea they know what to do with us either. I don't think they've had experiences with finding people randomly out there. We were-," the girl's cheeks pale a touch and one of her slim hands reaches blindly for something, only to find Dev's shoulder to dig her nails into. "We were supposed to die. Or our ancestors were. This woman tried to explain dragons and pairings and how dragons fight Thread. We were never supposed to be born." Rhaelyn tracks the conversation until Iolene's remark goes from dragons and flights to the fact that they shouldn't have lived. "I...don't understand." She looks towards Devaki and then back to Iolene and her paleness, "Are you alright?" She sounds honestly concerned. "We survived Thread." Well mostly. "And we didn't need dragons," Devaki says, with an oddly determined expression. As Iolene digs her hands into his shoulder, he winces in reaction, but at the same time lifts up his other hand to press over hers in reassurance. "But we were, and we'll surprise them all, Io," he says, somehow making it a promise. His gaze tracks back to Rhaelyn, brow furrowing at her confusion, but then he asks again, "What's your plans then?" "I just meant...," trailing off again, a loud exhale shoots out of Iolene's pursed lips. "Elgin says he believes that the Weyr's lying to us and they knew exactly where we were and could've come to get us at any time. But, I think... those riders. They looked so surprised and shocked, and the Weyrleaders, they don't seem to know what to do with us that I can't believe they knew we were out there the whole time without the protection of dragons and just let so many of us die before rescuing us. It would be cruel. I don't think they're cruel." She looks up to Rhaelyn and then down to the hand digging into Dev's shoulder and his hand over hers reassuringly. The fingers release their grip and should Dev look, there'll be a look of mute apology. "I mean... I think some people are just grasping at straws and making all of us look stupid. /None of us are stupid/." The entire last is spoken fiercely even if the volume of her voice is low. Rhaelyn's head nods, "He really thinks that? He's ...he is the one who suggested out elders were lying to us too." Yeah, she doesn't mind outing that fact. "I think you're right Iolene. If they knew, these people, why would they change their minds all of the sudden?" An expression of discomfort passes through her as Devaki asks about her plans. "I am working out just how to make it work..." The girl admits, tone careful and even looking around to see who else might overhear before taking a step closer. "I am going to get a dragon. We should all get one. All of us exiles." Devaki leans back a bit, surprise clear in his features as he takes in Iolene's words. "Lying to us?" he echoes, slowly, "Well, I don't doubt they're not telling us the whole truth on some things. But I doubt they knew we were they all along, or why bother resucing us now? Why not just leave us there to die?" His head swivels around to Rhaelyn at her contribution. "So everyone's lying to us now?" And here Devaki can't help it: he just rolls his eyes. "I think Elgin's just being paranoid, personally. Anyway, even if the elders were keeping things from us, there would be a reason for it. To protect us. Just like they've always done." He's been known to have his disagreements with the elders, or their decisions, in the past, but he sounds pretty solidly behind them now. And then Rhaelyn speaks again, and he just stares at her, mutely. As her words disagree with Dev, so too does Iolene's body shift again, the torso turning away from the man, her legs finding the ground once more to brush her toes against idly. "If they know something, they should tell us. Elgin can't be the only one who's making up nonsense out of thin air. Not knowing when there's clearly something to know is more frustrating than being completely ignorant." The sixteen year girl's brow lifts at Rhaelyn's suggestion and she's just as mute as Devaki initially, but then blurts out, "How are you going to manage that?" Rhaelyn's hand moves to her chest and she assures, "I don't side with that idea mind you. I told him that he should talk with our elders and he said he believed these Weyr-leaders more than our leaders. I don't understand." When she staring begins, she draws a hand throug her hair and lifts her chin, meeting Devaki's eyes. After a long moment she encourages, "Just -think- about it. Strength. Power." But Iolene hits the nail on the head, the 'how'. "I'm...learning more about that now. Apparently, you convince one of the dragons you are worthy. You impress them somehow. And then they will let you be there whenn the eggs hatch. And you can get one." She's leaving out a lot of grey-area details. "I spoke with E'dre about it. His Wroth likes me he said. We can /do/ this." "Why would he trust the word of a stranger over someone who has looked after us all our lives?" Devaki's just plain confused about that particular part, shaking his head. And then he's back to Rhaelyn and her scheme. "Not all of them have power. Some of them are little more than couriers. What if you impress one of those greens? Then you'll have to have sex with strangers all the time." He's clearly unconvinced so far, but he's still listening, posture open. "Someone told me the dragons pick their partners," murmurs Iolene, not entirely convinced of the soundness of Rhaelyn's idea. "Why would a dragon pick any of us to partner with the-." It's a night of trailing off voices and Io blanches at Dev's explanation of what happens with green dragons. The hand reaches blindly again and while she had pivoted away from Devaki, now the girl slides down along the arm rest and tries to hide behind? Next to? Somewhere by Dev; the idea of sex with strangers all the time so unsettling. Rhaelyn rejects the opinion about the green with a slice of her hand, "No. Even those green ones have power. Fire! They can breath it." Her eyes glint eagerly, "And I wouldn't let my beast mate like that. It's just these people. They want to have sex with strangers. Just remember out at the lake? We have a choice, we will be different." And who is to say they won't be? "The dragons pick, but we will just have to make them want to pick -us-." "I don't know," Devaki says, dubiously still. "Personally I don't like the idea of whoever being in charge is the one that is the best at having sex. Seems like poor qualification for leadership, to me. Maybe /that/ is why we were stuck on our island for eighty Turns." He lets out a breath, glances at Iolene, and there's an apologetic look at the words which have obviously upset her. Back to Rhaelyn, though, "What are you going to do? Get your green to breathe fire at people until they obey you?" Even as he says it aloud, it sounds stupid. Speculation has never sat well with Iolene, not in all her years on the island and certainly not now. It's not fact. Or logic, and the young woman, finding herself practically in Devaki's lap out of disquieted emotions, turns to murmur something quietly into his ear before she's getting up slowly. "I'm going to ask someone who knows." An internal decision voiced aloud causes her to relax enough to even draw forth another of her smiles, though not quite so trademark as any time prior to being rescued. "Have a good night." You sense Iolene's voice is quiet and her breath is warm against his ear lobe, "We need to talk. But later." The revelations Rhaelyn brought with her along with what she herself has learned before, bring a sobriety to her words that haven't existed before. Rhaelyn's smile is amused, "You're right about that. Although it's even worse that it's the person with the beast that has the best sex that makes the leader, not even the leader being best at sex." The question makes her lips purse, "I'm sure that the weyr will listen more to someone with TWO voices. I think holds will be more willing to sit down and listen to dragon-folk than exiles. If we had dragons, we could make rules. Why couldn't we?" Her voice fades as Iolene mentions going to ask someone else and her jaw tightens, "I should have never said anything! I should have known!" If Devaki looks surprised at having the slight girl in his lap, he looks more surprised at whatever the Iolene murmurs to him. With a nod, he watches her stand, eyes lingering on her for a moment before fixing on Rhaelyn. "What's the harm in asking? It's natural for us to be curious about dragons -- I don't think they'll mind us asking. And it's not like they wouldn't /notice/ us on the sands anyway. There's only so much you could keep a plan like that secret." Rhaelyn stays tense though, "You're right. I guess." About not being able to keep it a secret. Still, she looks like she regrets opening her mouth and showing her hand. Her arms cross over her chest, her jaw settling into a stuborn set. It's not so set that she can't call, "Good Night." To Iolene though. |
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