Logs:Hanging In There

From NorCon MUSH
Hanging In There
"I expect it's hard for quite a few; our dragons ain't exactly known for their sweet and even tempers."
RL Date: 24 November, 2012
Who: Taikrin, Azaylia
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: Taikrin and Azaylia talk over bits of fried food, and check up on each other.
Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 30 (Interval 10)
Weather: A light rainfall patters on and off throughout the day, making everything slick and gray and muddy.
Mentions: Brieli/Mentions, B'sil/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions


Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr


Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.

Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.

An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.


The rain has stopped, hopefully for the day, which means that it's now a 'fine spring evening' by High Reaches definitions. And while the crowds are mostly indoors, there are definitely a few hardier souls who are enjoying dinner or drinks outdoors. Someone's set up a brazier of flame, to provide heat and light and also smoke to drive away those creeping spring insects. Taikrin's secured a table, along with a beer and a plate of some little fried things that she's nibbling on in a desultry manner while she waits.

Fire. It's a beacon to some of those insects, before they end up choking on the smoke. It also works well on weyrwomen, or at least one in particular. Azaylia is drawn to the fire, steps hesitant but curious as she nears with a stack of hides and books held against her chest. Brown eyes catch the blaze, staring into it long enough to seemed mesmerized by the flames. Her hair is up in a single bun rather than the two, dress long, boring, but thankfully a shade of blue. It seems the smokey gray sack she was so fond of has gone mysteriously missing. Distracted, eyes flicking from brazier to the few souls out there, she moves towards a table and looks to claim it without realizing Taikrin is there at first. "Oh." A gasp, when she does notice the brownrider. "I'm sorry. You don't mind?" Some confidence in the answer, given that she doesn't wait for an answer before sitting.

"Hey, weyrwoman. No problem." It's always 'weyrwoman' or 'weyrwoman Azaylia' nowadays, even if Taikrin generally has a crooked smile to go along with it. "Pull up a seat. Help yourself-- they ain't half bad, if you don't mind the grease." Evidently Taikrin does not, as she pops one of the fried bits -- mixed meat and veggies and fungus -- into her mouth. "You on your own tonigh?" It's a question with more than one answer, judging from how Taikrin's gaze flicks off into the darkness.

Azaylia gives a tolerant, though weary little exhale at the title. "Thank you. And no, I'm not hungry." She hasn't been for some time, judging from the sharp lines in her face. The continuation of her excercises has her figure rangy rather than sturdy, something that will hopefully change when everything has been dealt with. Hides, papers, a small book, are all piled carefully onto the table in front of her. "Uhm." A blink, a glance out into the darkness, "I think so?" Her hands are folded in her lap, giving Taikrin a small smile. "How are you and Szadath?"

"Y'sure? Plenty to spare." But Taikrin doesn't push the issue further, though her own pace of nibbling turns glacial. "Mm." No judgment on how unattended Azaylia might be, but rather: "Doing alright. Had a green couple of days ago, so he's settled himself some." It's the sort of boasting gossip that Azaylia might have grown used to hearing around the Glacier table some evenings. "Better, anyways. It wears on him, though, not being able to do anything. And you? How're you and Hraedhyth hanging in there?"

Azaylia looks startled for only a moment. It's true, she has had enough time to become accostomed to such boasting. "Whatever helps... I suppose." Not that she looks uncomfortable- envious, if anything. Concern for the brown has her head tilting, looking over at Taikrin with that tired gaze. "What is there for him to do? Or is it because there isn't anything to do that he's upset?" Poor thing. The junior takes her time in answering, thinking the question over a touch longer than necessary. "Better. Hraedhyth is... better, too." Not subtle, not withdrawn, and not subdued, but... perhaps there's more of an effort to keep a balance between fire and water? Or the gold could simply share in her rider's exhaustion.

"There is and there isn't anything, for him. I expect it's hard for quite a few; our dragons ain't exactly known for their sweet and even tempers. He's having a hard time forgetting about Svissath, and why he's still here." Taikrin's gaze lingers off into the darkness. This time she must find what she was looking for, because she gives an almost imperceptable nod and turns back to Azaylia. "I reckon he might be better when it's all over and done with, this messy business. So he can finally forget. Reckon it'll be that way for most of 'em."

"Hraedhyth isn't overly fond of Svissath, either." Azaylia sounds almost relieved as she says it, knowing her wingmate will be able to understand. "Not that anyone can blame the dragon..." She can't go on. The grayed out shadow of a brown is a subject too painful to dwell on, at least for the junior. Taikrin's nod goes unnoticed, as have the weyrwoman's 'guards' this night. She's used to them by now. "Do you think that's fair? I mean... Not that I want Hraedhyth to remember all the awful things that upset her." Her eyes drop down to her lap, looking troubled, "But what if it's something you know your dragon would want to remember? That really, really hurt them? Is it fair to try and help them forget, then?"

"It ain't a matter of try and help, is it? Praise Faranth they got memories like they do. I mean, what dragon wants to remember threadscore? If it's real important to 'em, they find a way of hanging onto it." Taikrin leans forward, pitching her voice lower. It's possible she means to be soothing, though it's not a tenor that comes readily to the brownrider. "Ain't no benefit to anyone to remember pain like that. Even them. Especially them. Know what I mean?"

Azaylia sinks in her seat, not terribly obvious as she slumps forward to catch the brownrider's words. "M'not talking about Thread." Though she is grateful for the lack of it, with a dragon such as Hraedhyth. Closing her eyes, she gives a gentle nod at Taikrin's attempt, "I know." It's hard to tell what the junior will be stubborn about, and this is a subject she has trouble letting go. " And it's... what's best for the Weyr." Gathering herself, the young woman places her hands on the table. "And if Szadath is looking for something to do, he could always join Hraedhyth during her morning flights. It's a little like, uhm, guard duty." She says with traces of embarrassment.

"Know you ain't. Principle's the same, though." And if Azaylia can be mulish about letting go, well. Taikrin can be mulish about this: "Best for the Weyr when they're both well-quit of us. Reckon they'll all be a lot better settled, then." She gesticulates with what looks like a piece of fried onion, adding, "Doing patrols with Hraedhyth might do to keep him occupied, though. He don't seem like he's going to be doing much cozying with Aralath this go-round, more the pity." A pause for a sip of beer, and then her crooked grin re-appears. "He likes guard-duty. Comes natural for them, yeah? Fighting-bred creatures and all that they are?"

Azaylia watches the bit of fried onion with just a hint of amusement on her face. "Things will get better." Seems to be everyone's mantra, one that the goldrider is happy to adopt. "It gets her out of her wallow." Which, while not extremely difficult to do is sometimes rare on certain days. "I just had to make sure she wasn't marking her territory when she first began..." Said with a bit more smile in her voice, though her lips remain only faintly curled. "You can even tell him he's protecting Hraedhyth for me, if it'll help. Uhm... just don't have him bragging about it to her." Or anyone, if he wants to keep his tail in tact. With a soft laugh at the mental image, she braves Taikrin's plate for an oily bit of something.

Taikrin says, "Nah. He's perfectly content to be patrolling with her. As much as he seems to think you all need protecting, he ain't a whit concerned for the queens themselves." Taikrin laughs in response and shoves the plate a bit closer for Azaylia's perusal. "Though I reckon if you ain't careful, it'll turn into a race around the spires and then a tussle at fifty dragonlengths. Still, be good for him to forget, for a little while. Been doing everything I can to help him." She pauses, then grows momentarily serious to add, "I mean it, though. Anything you need done to help things along, I'm your rider. I just want to see it all over and done.""

Azaylia finally picks something and gives it an experimental nibble. "A little racing and wrestling would do them some good." She agrees, the fried food disappearing rather quickly. "Though if it gets too heated, I'll remind them to move to the ground." In the hopes that it won't utterly spoil the dragons' fun. Fingers are searching for another mouthful when Taikrin insists, the junior freezing at the change in her tone. With a steady voice, she nods, "Thank you. Things will be moving forward soon. That's all I can say." Wanting to give her wingmate some form of comfort.

It seems enough to mollify Taikrin for the time being. She settles back in her seat, content to surrender the food to Azaylia and instead nurse her beer. "Glad to hear it. It's been a hard couple of months for you lot, and with your dragons only, what-- one and a half? Or is it two turns already? Seems like it's barely been any time at all since they were such scrawny little things."

Azaylia only has to think about it for a moment, "Hraedhyth isn't quite two turns." Several months off, in fact. "And Iesaryth younger than that, though she's wonderful in these sorts of situations." As unfortunate as they may be. The junior is almost oblivious at having taken over the brownrider's plate, eating with remnants of that once infamous hunger. "It's been hard for the whole weyr. I-" She pauses in her munching to glance back up at Taikrin. "How are the weyrfolk? I mean, you haven't heard... anything really awful about how we're doing things?" Complaints about how long it's taken- that's to be expected.

"Don't know as how I'm really the one you ought to be asking about when it comes to the weyrfolk. Us riders are simple folk, especially those of us with males." Leave it to Taikrin to speak confidently on behalf of all brownriders in the Weyr. "Seems to me you all are doing the best you can with what you got. Ain't neither of you had much training, and the more's the pity. But you got B'sil now, and he's an alright sort for a bronzerider. In another turn, maybe we'll have someone else again, and then we'll see."

Azaylia actually gives a soft giggle at that generalization, "Just thought you might have heard things." Greasy fingers are rubbed together, then ducked under the table to brush against the hem of her dress. "B'sil is... nice." Just, nice. "Helpful." But what else is there to say about the acting Weyrleader? Not much, as she continues, "Maybe Rielsath will be like Ysavaeth, so Brieli and I can stay juniors." Judging from her odd little smile, she's not convinced that's going to happen anytime soon. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"Could be," Taikrin responds, a little indulgently. It doesn't really seem like she believes it, either. "Reckon it'll probably be one of you two, though, what with Lujayn just having eggs on the sands and all. But you got time, yet. And, you know, maybe it'll be Brieli?" The brownrider sounds all casually curious, for all that she's looking pretty intently at Azaylia. "Or would you rather--" And, of course, just as she's getting into the juicy questions the woman -- greenrider, of course -- that she was waiting for shows up full of bluster and noise, to seat herself right down at the table with her fancy fruity drink and reams of gossip. Poor Taikrin.

Just when Azaylia's features begin to shift at the question, the greenrider swoops in. It startles any answer Taikrin may be able to gather right off the junior's face. She welcomes the other rider, falling back into her usual quiet, though polite, mannerisms. Before long the goldrider will gather up her things and excuse herself, attempting a smile for Taikrin before heading back to her weyr. Poor Taikrin indeed.



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