Logs:Justice Done
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| RL Date: 20 November, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Taikrin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: When Brieli and Iesaryth return from Monaco after speaking to Oriane, they find Szadath and Taikrin both have opinions about how murder should be dealt with. |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 4, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: I'kris/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: <OOC> Taikrin says, "Warm and fuzzy in a scary kind of way." |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north. Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. A break in the rain, wonder of wonders, has brought a few tentative weyrfolk poking their heads outdoors. Taikrin and Szadath are among those; for all they're not on any sort of official guard rotation, they're lingering all the same around the weyrleader's complex. Szadath has, as usual, puffed himself up to statuesque proportions just in case anyone is watching. His head is down, though, low enough to put it on level with Taikrin as she paces back and forth. The pair are talking animatedly, or at least the brownrider is, as she gestures sharply and speaks more sharply still. "-- do something!" A break in the rain is good news for Iesaryth, despite the skies above tides becoming as dark as the skies above the Reaches. Though she's not as loud as some dragons around here, she does bugle a greeting as she appears, winging down to the bowl swiftly, a sunny spot in a dismal day. She lands near Szadath, since the brown is near where she lives and all, whirling blue gaze curious. « Is there something wrong? » Brieli takes her time in dismounting, but her expression is easily apparent, as dark as the clouds. Whatever she was doing, she's not all that happy about it. Something in Szadath darkens as that stormcloud passes overhead; the perpetual sparks of crimson in his eyes return, and his muscles harden yet further. « No. We're fine. Planning. » He abandons his rider in favor of Iesaryth, so he can look her over carefully. « You are okay? They didn't do anything to you? » Unspoken: anxiety, protectiveness, jealousy. Our queen. Taikrin, meanwhile, puts her ranting on hold mid-pace so she can turn and watch the pair descend. Then, blandly, she calls: "Clear skies, Weyrwoman?" Iesaryth likes planning, likes plans; so does her rider. Beneath salt waters, fish-thoughts are quick and bright now, a school of them. « What do you plan? And what could they do? » The gold seems fine, looks fine, despite her lack of concern for the dragons or people where she's been, where she was shelled. Her rider is adjusting her red scarf as she heads over Taikrin's way, returning wryly, "They've been clearer." There's a squint at the sky, as if she actually meant that. "How are you two?" Szadath has never, ever been one for subtlety, or for beating around the bush. Thus: « Svissath has to go. We will be ready for when you tell us to make him go. » His wings mantle despite himself, an instinctive display seen more than a few times on the mating grounds. "Doing alright, us. Wish we could do more, but-- well. We live to serve." She pops a crooked grin at that last. "All well with you? Ain't nobody giving you all trouble, I hope." Iesaryth finds the whole thing terribly sad, but she agrees, « He will. Soon. » She doesn't really know when, or what 'soon' means in draconic terms, but she offers what she knows. Brieli glances up at Szadath, fine brows arching - but she says nothing about the brown's display, just shrugging at Taikrin. "There's not much to do, but your help has been appreciated. At least we're... sure." Fairly sure. Mostly sure. With a quirk of her lips, "Not more trouble than expected. We were at Monaco to... reach an understanding, I suppose. Which I think we did, for better or worse." "Good, so he won't be lingering long." Taikrin's manner remains casual and easy, just as Szadath can't help the ripple of anger that passes through his stocky frame. "Like I said, we're here to help. Don't want you all dirtying your hands, and-- it ought to be one of us. We understand." The brown at first hunkers into himself, and then reaches out subconsciously for Iesaryth's steadying influence. « Soon. » He takes it as a promise, one that soothes the iced currents of violence that run deep through his being. "Not longer than necessary. I'd rather arrange something that works for everyone, but... it depends." Brieli looks at Taikrin for a beat after she speaks, brows drawing together. Careful, "Anyone who ends up in this sort of position, situation - it's impossible not to get your hands dirty. Even if people might pretend like they don't." She's concerned briefly, as is Iesaryth when she senses those cold currents, quick to steady the brown - she won't say it's not Svissath's fault, but faint sympathy is there. He is her clutchmate. "There's dirty and then there's dirty," Taikrin allows, though she makes a gesture of feigned helplessness. "Sure you know what I'm meaning." Szadath flickers and twitches with emotions that are not entirely his own-- Iesaryth can feel so far, and then no farther. The current of iced rage is soothed, but then flows ever-renewed. "Don't know as how I'll feel safer about you all while he's still loose, though." Her gaze instinctively tracks up and across the bowl, towards a particular set of ledges. "Never know when one like that's gonna go off again." With a purse of her lips, Brieli looks at the brownrider, then up at the star stones, sigh heavy. "It can't be that way. There's a lot of reasons it can't be that way, but the primary one is it never stops. I won't have more blood on my hands, real or metaphorical, and just because I don't do something, or do nothing to prevent it... that hardly matters. It's still on me. And there's not just one person affected here." Shifting her attention to Szadath, then to Taikrin, "I can see that. But I don't expect he'd have a reason to. Unless someone did the same things Iolene did, and he were free to wander." Iesaryth is there and helpful, supportive... and curious. This is not something Taikrin was expecting to hear: she jolts in time with Szadath, though she manages to regain her bland equinamity a moment later. "Y'can't really-- that is-- he did it once. He can't be trusted. Next time what if he goes off about goldriders who're holdbred? Or-- I ain't sayin' it's gotta be cruel, but surely--" Her accent thickens as she struggles to express the concepts that bounce unspoken between herself and Szadath. His expression is cleaner, simpler, and subvocal: dangerous. Bad. Out. OUT. The dark girl lifts a hand to her face, scrubbing her eyes with her fingers, expression pained. "We have to talk about it. We're going to figure something else. But I won't be--" Brieli pauses, drops her hand to her side, weary. "What will people say then? And how do you live with that ... that hole there, that they all feel? He isn't living with it. That's not life." Maybe it would be better the other way then? That flickers in her expression before, "I don't know that it's that simple. But. We're going to talk about it." At least B'sil is likely on Taikrin's side? Iesaryth is in agreement - he will go, but who knows how? "They say it was justice done, that we look out for our own. It's our job to protect, yeah? Dragonriders and all? Roundabout where I come from, reckon they'd see it as a fair job to look after our own." Spots of color have appeared in Taikrin's cheeks, despite -- or perhaps due to -- her efforts at keeping her voice level and reasonable. "'Course, it ain't my place to be telling you what to do, Weyrwoman. Only here to offer what I know." The effort to back off costs her but it's Szadath who pays, with his hunkering down and twitching wings. He fairly hums with his need to go and do something, be away, fly and fight. "Justice done if it's done as justice. People would only call it so if it's done... obviously?" Brieli has that for Taikrin, quiet and calm. "You're not the only person that has said this, and honestly, I don't know what the others will say. Ideally, we work out something that doesn't ruin relations... more, and that everyone can live with. But. You have a point. Know that it's certainly considered." She sounds sincere - very likely is sincere about that, for all that she looks displeased with the idea. And Iesaryth can fly, if Szadath wants to; she likes to skim the mountaintops, let the snow tumble down as she flies past. "We won't just let it go." Taikrin scuffs a hand through her short-shorn hair and huffs a deep breath before marshalling her response. "Know you got all our interests at heart. Just-- know that some of us got yours, too. You got turns and turns of running us around t'look forward to, like. Our weyrwoman." As Szadath bunches muscles and launches himself into the air in a violent expression of power, Taikrin is free to add carefully as she turns to track his flight through the bowl sky, "She reminds him of Iovniath, you know. A little. The way he responds to her." Iesaryth will be a little slow about following, as lazy as she is from time to time, but she eventually gets into the air, sunlight wings spread wide against the night. As for Brieli, she considers Taikrin, considers her words for a long moment. The implications don't quite make her shudder, but she's momentarily struck by them. Turns. What she is now. Immediately, jumping on something to respond to, "I'm not going anywhere. They don't get to decide that, decide anything." The last makes the goldrider blink, a few times. "I hope that's good for him. Helpful." The comparison has her seeming a bit off-balance, but she still can manage a smile - one that looks somehow more real than her usual. "I appreciate it, Taikrin. Though I should go... write some of this down, from Monaco, before I forget and miss something for Azaylia." No mention of Lujayn. "Let me know if you want to have a drink, another time. And she'll fly until she decides she's bored." "Yeah, okay, no problem. Another time. Later this seven, maybe." Ostensibly Taikrin's still watching Szadath's tight circling and dips that keep him in-pace with Iesaryth, though she's got Brieli pegged out the corner of her eye. "What I'm here for. You need anything doing, you or Weyrwoman Azaylia, you just let me know. We'll take care of it for you. S'how a Weyr and her riders work, yeah?" "Yes." Brieli's still unsettled, but she offers Taikrin another flash of a smile before avoiding puddles on her way to the Weyrleader complex, shoving hands in her pockets as she does. "Clear skies," she calls over her shoulder. Not with the way the clouds are threatening, but maybe tomorrow. |
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