Logs:Leadership Potential
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| RL Date: 23 April, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin has a request... and some questions. |
| Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 8, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, C'wlin/Mentions, N'hax/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions |
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| Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr Made private by a thick, insulated door that blocks out most of the noise from the barracks beyond, the Weyrlingmaster's Office is a comfortable, quiet alcove. Instead of an imposing desk, much of the room is taken up by a large round table, with five chairs spaced around its edges. Beneath it is a square rug pieced together with twisted rags that stretches from wall to wall, just leaving room for the long bookshelves and filing cabinets. On the back wall, a tapestry of the Weyr's badge is hung, providing both insulation and decoration. In one corner sits a small green plant, growing strong despite the lack of sunlight in this windowless room. Beside it rests a tea cart, prepped and ready. This afternoon's ground drills finished a few minutes ago, though Quinlys wasn't in attendance: the weyrlingmasters tend to work on rotation. What that does mean is that while her colleagues are still dealing with the aftermath of lessons, the bluerider is in the office, sorting through a stack of reports with a deep furrow in her brow and a look of boredom and frustration set into her expression. She swings back on her chair, rocking it back and forth on two legs in an idle gesture that speaks rather a lot to her present thoughts. This part of weyrlingmastering? Sucks. While many weyrlings had questions for the weyrlingmasters on duty after drills, K'zin's part in today's events went smoothly and so it was that he slipped off as soon as the formation was released to find the one weyrlingmaster he was interested in speaking to. A purposeful knock is given on the thick door to the office as the weyrling waits without for permission to enter. Immediately following the sound of the knock on the door is the sound of the legs of Quinlys' chair hitting the floor-- slam. Hastily, and in a kind of muffled, strangled tone, the bluerider answers: "Come in?" Inside, the bluerider is waving her hand around in that way that some people do - as if the effort will reduce the pain of having (presumably) whacked it against the table by accident. She's wincing, too. The door is pushed open and K'zin slips inside, closing it behind him before turning to get a proper look at the bluerider. Brows rise as he takes in the sight of waving hand and wince. "Sorry," He feels the need to apologize, blinking at her, "Are you okay?" Clearly, this wasn't the reason he came, but it's the more pressing topic as a few steps bring him hesitantly toward the older woman, concern touching his face. "Fucking ouch," is Quinlys answer, for all that it doesn't really, properly, answer either remark. The hand wave continues for another few seconds, and then she grabs the injured hand with the other one and squeezes, as if this, too, will take away the sting. "No, no, I'm fine. Not your fault. My mother always did tell me not to rock on my chair-- you need something, K'zin?" "Alright then." K'zin's manner is awkward, apparently not entirely sure how he's supposed to respond. "I guess we all do things we're told not to from time to time." A good guess would be that K'zin was not the sole creator of that clever response. "Live and learn," He adds. From his back pocket, he pulls a small sheaf of rolled papers, offering them toward the woman. "Yes. I need something. I need help." Progress! He's asking for it! He's been-- shockingly and perhaps suspiciously perfect in his adherence to the rules and consistent nose-to-the-grindstone attitude. "They're my marks." He says of the papers. "I've tested out of my remedial classes. Which is going to leave us with free time, and-- well, we'd rather not have any. Would you give us extra work or lessons that would help us become better riders?" Quinlys apologises for the awkwardness she's generated with her expression, nose wrinkling, but it doesn't linger: she leans back, lazing in her chair (though at least all four legs are on the ground, now), with her forearms draped loosely over the table's edge, except when she reaches to take the roll of papers. They get unrolled, and examined with an idle glance; even as she's reading, she's waving K'zin into the direction of a seat. "Why the shells do you not want free time?" She glances up to peer at him over the roll of papers. Once the papers are handed over, K'zin moves to gracefully drop into a seat, leaning forward with elbows coming to rest on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. "Have you ever heard what the aunties say about idle hands? About how it's easiest for idle hands to find ill works?" It's an old adage, phrased differently in different parts of Pern, but a sentiment. "I'm finding it to be more true than not. With my punishment," And it's not the punishment he's protesting, "There's only so many places to go or things to do. I found it easy enough when my nose was stuffed into the books, and I'm not saying I won't still be reading a lot, but there's no defined goal for my studies anymore." Joined index fingers point toward the papers as an example of the type of goal he means. "I don't want to get myself in trouble because I'm bored." "It's been... nearly two months, since your punishment began?" Quinlys sets the papers down in front of her, turning her attention fully onto K'zin in a way that suggests she's studying him. "I'll admit, you've done pretty well so far - as far as I know, anyway - as far as your punishment goes." Her fingertips tap against the papers, generating a low, staccato noise that probably suggests she's giving the whole thing thought. "I'm sure you're not sitting here asking to be given a silver thread." "You don't get marks like those by sneaking off to break the rules when you should be studying." K'zin's response comes soberly, nodding again to his marks as evidence of what he's been doing with his time. "You're welcome to follow me around if that's not proof enough for you that I've been doing what I ought and none of what I naught." He puts his hands onto his knees then, sitting up straighter. "No, I'm not. I feel that would be reaching on my part. I do think, however, that we could all benefit from the leadership classes and think those of us who are interested, even without a silver thread, should be permitted to attend and learn. With the state of the Weyr, there's no saying who's going to end up with big responsibilities to fill. And..." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I really feel like I need to get better at motivating people." His palms rub across the patched knees of his trousers. "I tried to-- well, I tried to motivate N'ky the other day, and I think all I did was piss him off." He chews his lower lip, the memory clearly rattling him. "I told him to be a quitter if he wanted just because he didn't get a silver thread. That I'd like to have a quitter as a best friend and that Cai'd probably like to have a quitter as a lifemate." He shakes his head. "I was trying to-- get him to do the opposite. Get him to get mad or get him to get fired up or get him to make an effort again." No dice, his expression communicates with mild misery. Quinlys' mouth opens, as though she intends to interrupt K'zin partway through his speech, but evidently she thinks better: she closes it again, and instead continues to study him with narrowed eyes and a wrinkled brow. It grows more wrinkled still as he mentions N'ky, even to the point where she may even look concerned, but by the end, all she can do is sigh. "N'ky's a teenager," she points out, keeping her tone low. "And yes, I know you are too. But sometimes, when we're teenagers, we're our own worst enemies. Reverse psychology doesn't always work. I don't have a problem if you - or anyone else - wants to sit in on some of the extra classes. From the sidelines, mind. The ones in here, anyway. Not Wingleader meetings, and not some of the more specialised things... like with the Weyrwomen. But there's nothing stopping anyone from sitting in around the edges." "Alright," K'zin's reponse is after a thoughtful pause in which he worries his lower lip. "Sounds good. Alright for me to do the extra after-hours work? If they have any? Just for-- for practice. In case." He doesn't comment further on N'ky. He's said all he needs to say, and a nod shows that he's learned that reverse psychology doesn't always work. "Um." He says after rising, asking in a hesitant way, "I sort of-- have been getting lessons from Weyrwoman Azaylia in my free time. Like once every sevenday or two. To learn about the paperwork she does. I haven't been getting in the way. Is-- I didn't think that would be a problem... is it?" Since she's now said that he wouldn't be included in the specialized things with the Weyrwomen. "You can do whatever you like," says Quinlys, after a moment's pause. "Though no one will be looking it over or marking it or anything, okay? This is entirely your venture. If there's something you don't understand, you can ask one of your silverthreaded classmates, get them to help you out... if they're willing." She says all that, but it's obvious that her thoughts have already moved on to something else he's said; she's giving him a quizzical glance, head shaking after a moment. "Why the shells would you learn about Weyrwoman's work? Even if you became Weyrleader, the kind of stuff you'd be doing would be completely different. I mean, shells, if she's happy to teach you, that's fine, but it seems a bit redundant to me." "Alright." K'zin agrees again, "I'll do that, then." Then there's the matter of his learning, "She asked me the same question and said the same thing." His smile is thin, diplomatic. "Rasavyth and I figure that it doesn't hurt to understand how all aspects of the Weyr work, especially since Weyrwoman Aishani is so progressive in her views of how a Weyr should function. Never know what responsibilities will shift around in time. Why not come to understand the big picture? Who better to talk about the big picture than the people with the big responsibilities?" He remains standing, his hands relaxed at his sides. "Is that why none of the bronzeriders were chosen? The progressive changes happening in the Weyr? I mean, I know why I wasn't chosen. For Silver Threads. But I didn't think C'wlin or N'hax had done anything and N'hax seems an obvious choice what with him having been a Journeyman and all already." Quinlys' head shakes, mutely, as though she's still not convinced of K'zin's reasons, for all that she's not going to put a stop to it, either. Her expression abruptly shifts, however, as that last question gets asked, and she leans back, looking smugly inscrutable (somehow). "Do you think being a Journeyman makes a person a leader?" she wonders, tone deliberately idle. "We could train all of you, make the leadership program all just part of the standard curriculum... but some of you wouldn't cope with that. Would it be fair, adding all that extra work on top of everything, to a person who hasn't passed all their exams, who is having problems with their studies already? So we pick and choose. We've a lot of criteria, and some of it is definitely aptitude... and some of it is attitude. Maybe it looks random, to you. Maybe it looks political. Maybe it's neither of those." And maybe she's simply not going to explain. "In the craft, we were taught," K'zin begins slowly, "That you respect Journeymen because they have studied and achieved and been found sufficiently knowledgeable to move on to the next stage of the craft which includes learning the qualities of leadership and instruction that they will need to train apprentices and to progress further in the craft. So I do not think being a Journeyman makes a person a leader, but that it certainly is an indication that the potential is there." Beat. "And isn't that why people get silver threads? Because they're seen as having potential for leadership?" He cants his head slightly to the side, his tone so neutral that it might strike an odd chord. "What lack of potential does the Weyr see in N'hax that the Craft didn't in many more turns of acquaintance?" He doesn't press the case for bronzeriders in general since it seems obvious no answers are forthcoming, but he does press the case of an individual bronzerider, though it's delivered in the tone of one with scholarly interest, not as one with a real stake in the outcome. Quinlys' counter comes quickly. "Most Apprentices make Journeyman eventually," she says, calmly, almost the moment K'zin has finished speaking. "It's a natural progression: once you've built up your skills, you walk the tables. You can be competent, even brilliant, in your chosen craft, and not be a leader-- and not even have the potential to be a leader. Would you keep such a person as an Apprentice forever, simply because they're never going to successfully lead people? As I see it, it suits craft propaganda to talk about leadership in Journeyman. I could see the argument for Masters, maybe, but shells. My oldest brother is a Journeyman - a Starsmith. You ever meet Lyarel? I wouldn't follow him to the bar. Not all Journeymen teach. A lot should never teach." Beat. "Your mileage may vary, of course, but that's my experience of it." "Those with potential do it sooner. N'hax isn't so old." Therefore... K'zin shrugs though; it's enough to him to have raised the question. No need for too much too soon. "Some crafts do keep folks apprentices forever. They're not hurting for competent people so much as to promote people without cause." He gives a conceding nod, however, for the story of her oldest brother. "I'm not saying that it automatically qualifies him, just that you might think on giving him a harder look. My craft expected me to follow his advice, none of it-" What little he was ever given, "-led me wrong." He glances towards the door, "But that all's none of my business really," In so much as it is or isn't any of the weyrlings' business. "Permission to be excused, Weyrlingmaster?" Not Quinlys this time. He's 'showing proper respect' as is expected of him. Letter of the law and all that. "K'zin," says Quinlys, letting both of her hands sit flat upon the table. "Believe me, we've looked closely at all of you. There's a lot more to the whole matter than simply potential; do you trust us so little?" It's hard to tell if she's offended by this or not; for once, she's keeping a tight lid upon her emotions. For once. "Of course. I'm sure I'll see you soon. And-- you can consider your punishment complete, K'zin. Privileges resorted. No more watchers." Beat. Then, a smirk. "None from me, anyway." Her head drops: back to the paperwork. "Quin?" K'zin waits until she's all the way done speaking before softly saying her name, "It doesn't have to do with trust. It has to do with perspective. I just thought maybe I was seeing something as a fellow weyrling and a former apprentice in the same craft that it might've been harder for you to see in N'hax. I was just-- trying to look out for him." That whole smith bond thing. "I do trust you. And respect you. Wasn't learning that part of the point of my whole punishment? I got it." The point. His smile is small, but honest as shoulders shrug before he slips out the door. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 24 Apr 2013 05:46:22 GMT.
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Quinlys seems so much more... formidable(?) when she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeves. Definite scary WLM potential.
K'zin asked some interesting questions. Now to see if the punishment has really taught him anything.
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