Logs:I'm Scared
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| RL Date: 7 June, 2011 |
| Who: Iolene, Tomaeran, Rhaelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Exiles contemplate this sudden, dramatic change in their lives. |
| Where: Candidate Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Rilka/Mentions |
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| It's late. It's been a long day. Iolene is super tired, and yet not sleeping. Instead, she's sitting by a rather roaring fire at the end of this new and not-so-exciting-place called the candidate barracks. It can't be that the initial thrill is wearing off, because Tom is still looking kind of smug about his new trousers, but still: he's equally awake, and striding, now, towards the fire (and Iolene). Dropping into a seat beside her, he reaches out his hand towards hers: "You okay?" "Mmm," is the guttural response from deep within her throat. Iolene doesn't look up from the mesmerizing flames, not for even a flickering second. "Are you?" "This place--" begins Tom, obviously struggling to really put it into words. "They have warm baths. They have--" He shakes his head; his expression suggests he really doesn't know what to think. Sometimes, nature's too hard to fight against and Iolene smiles a very tiny, morose little smile, but a smile nonetheless. "They're-," pause, "Civilized." Io's smile encourages one from Tom, too, though it's really more just a hint of amusement about the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, they are. Though I'm not really sure about this whole being-guarded thing. I'm no criminal." Rhaelyn has an escort at her side as she comes back in from her trip to the baths with a group of other women. Fresh and clean and in clean clothes. "I think I'll get lost without an escort, wonder if we can keep them." With the late hour, most people are in their beds and Rhaelyn's arrival stirs a few near the entrance. In the back, Tom's come upon Iolene who's sitting by a roaring fire with her arms wrapped about her thin legs and yet, "It's cold still somehow. They don't trust us; we don't trust them, do you?" Tomaeran shoots a glance at Rhaelyn, complete with a tight-lipped smile, but his answer is for Iolene. "Not entirely," he admits. "But I know that they eat well, and have hot baths, and nice clothes, and places to sleep that are softer than anything I've ever seen before." The important things in life. Rhaelyn rolls her eyes as a few people hush at her and she slips away from her group and heads for the fire. A wave of fingers to Tom and Iolene. Her opinion about this new place is kept close, or maybe she didn't hear what was asked. "Did you /feel/ the blankets? Not a thorn in any of them." Iolene's eyes close and her body rocks back and forth in front of the fire. She hasn't changed out of her island gear yet and is still going around barefoot. "Will you go back?" The question is for Tom and then for Rhaelyn as the other girl approaches them, dark eyes opening to spare each of them a look in turn. There's a twist in Tom's smile for Rhaelyn's remark, and a nod of agreement. Iolene's question turns his attention back towards the blonde-haired girl, though; his answer is firm. "No. I don't know if I want to stay at the weyr necessarily, but there /has/ to be a place here where we can all belong." Rhaelyn hedges the quesion with a little shrug. It's Tom's response though that has her grinning, "Set us up somewhere new?" "I'm not going back either," decides a purse-lipped Iolene. There's a resolute steadfastness in both the tenor of her voice and in her expression. "I can't." As for what Rhaelyn suggests, the blonde girl looks blank, as if this idea can't even compute. "New?" repeats Tom, giving Rhaelyn a quizzical glance for that, though his attention rather rapidly slinks back towards Iolene; he looks concerned. "I was thinking more-- some of us are Blooded, and that means we came from somewhere. Belong somewhere. We have each other, still." "What?" Rhaelyn asks of Iolene's look her way and points to the boy amoung them, "He is the one who said...Oh." She rolls her eyes as he explains what he means. "Wonder just how bad the storm will be." Rhaelyn's words bring back memories not distant enough and the recollection of just what might be happening to their home and Iolene can't help the liquid that rims her eyes. But she's not outright crying, not yet. Instead, it manifests in her wobbling, watery voice, spoken as her chin finds her knobbly knees to rest on: "I'm glad someone got Rilka off." Tomaeran intentionally keeps his voice light, evidently aiming to distract Iolene as best he can, even as he considers Rhaelyn through half-lidded eyes. "I wonder how they did it; grabbed her kicking and screaming or something? Though she's been quiet since she got here. I'm sure everything will be fine." Rhaelyn rubs a knuckle over the wound to her lip and actually looks guilty for bringing up Iolene's emotions. A quick averting of her eyes, looking for Rila? "I haven't heard her. Do you think -she- will like it here?" A swallow leads to a sigh, and then another attempt at a smile. "I told her I'd sleep with her tonight. I don't know if she really heard me." Iolene looks back over her shoulders to where Rilka might be, the rest of the barracks much darker than right by this fire. "Tom? Rhae?" Tomaeran's "No," is pretty clear on this subject, but he shrugs his shoulder in a way to suggest that there's not really much they can do about it. "What is it, Io?" Rhaelyn gives a single nod, as though to agree about Rilka. "Perhaps she will hear the seamonsters." A little shudder about that thought and a sickened look passes over her swiftly. Her attention perks at her name, "Hhmm Io?" It's a quiet, solitary statement that encompasses all of how Iolene feels, "I'm scared." But then she's getting to her feet, trying to smile at both of them and failing before walking away to where Rilka is, presumably. Tomaeran opens his mouth, obviously intending to say /something/ to Iolene - but words fail him; he shakes his head. "I think we're all a bit, uh, unsettled," he says, finally, turning his attention back to Rhaelyn as Iolene leaves. "There are a lot of people I can't imagine coping here." Rhaelyn lifts her chin, strong and confident, "You will be fine." As though her strong words can offer some fear-killer to aid the other girl. Quietly, with none of his customary arrogance, Tom murmurs, "We just have to stick together. Learn what we can, and then-- make use of it." The last is more intense; focused. "I think I am going to sleep, too." |
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