Logs:Morning Politics
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| RL Date: 17 September, 2014 |
| Who: Lia, Edyis |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lia abandons the Boreal table and ends up speaking of similar topics with Edyis; namely that of Telgar's situation. |
| Where: Living Caverns |
| When: Day 2, Month 11, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Z'ian/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| It is an autumn morning, 10:46 of day 2, month 11, turn 35 of Interval 10. For a particular young scribe who may have gotten used to sunnier climates, the drop in temperature that comes with a High Reaches Autumn is likely to require some adjusting. At least the snow doesn't seem to be sticking to the ground yet, or require knocking layers of slush off her boots after a short time outside. It's with a still sleepy yawn, and wrapped in an old knit sweater that Edyis makes her way to the klah pot in the living caverns, filling a plate and claiming a seat at one of the open tables. Seated at the Boreal table, Lia holds court with a few of the wing's male riders, picking a slice of bacon off of one person's plate while filching a bit of breakfast potatoes off another. Her complexion clings to the remnants of southern sun in its fading tan, and the drawl prevalent in the south reflects in her interjections in the conversation: a heated discussion about what's going on at Telgar at the moment. "Politics," is her final thought, a one word invective that carries all other words in just the tone. To further punctuate her disdain for the subject, the lithe greenrider rises and makes her way to the breakfast buffets to gather her own plate and sit quite a ways away from her primary table, across from Edyis. "Men and their penchant for drama," says Lia, by way of self-invitation and introduction. Halfway through a meat roll, she can only smile - thankfully with her mouth firmly closed. It takes a few moments to wash it down with klah before she can finally speak. "Too bad things would probably be terribly boring without them. Or perhaps only somewhat boring, I'm Edyis. I don't think I've met you before." She offers politely. "Do they normally ruin breakfast with politics?" Using a fork, Lia cuts through her scrambled eggs and reaches across the table for a jar of syrup to pour over her food. "Sweet tooth," the greenrider says, unapologetically. Not that Edyis asked. As for the men, a backwards glance finds her wing, now with other women, not missing the lack of Lia's presence as they shoot back ideas and thoughts on the Telgar situation. "I don't find politics to ruin much of anything, but hearing U'zin go on and on about what he'd do if he were Weyrleader is a bit nauseating." The scribe isn't one to judge other's eating habits, especially since it would seem she's scarfing down hers now as quickly as possible so as to not be caught with her mouth full again. "Ah, one of those, I'd be willing to bet an eighth mark that he probably drown under the paperwork in the first week." Edyis replies grinning conspiratorially. Lia's smile is an even one, not quite full, but warm nonetheless. "Possibly. He's incredibly smart and I imagine, sometimes, he wishes he were on a bronze dragon if only for..." the young woman's voice trails off and a hand lifts into the air, as if by physical expression she might convey what she can't quite say. Failing, if for more politic reasons than not finding the right word, the dragonrider returns her hand to her fork and resumes making inroads in her eggs and sauteed vegetables. "You would think more Weyrleaders would just clean house upon gaining control. This shouldn't be anything new." It's actually the mention of cleaning house that causes the dark eyed girl to shiver. "I don't think I'm quite familiar enough with the situation in Telgar to understand what you mean." She admits ruefully, forgoing silverware entirely and picking apart another of the meat rolls on her plate. "What is going on in Telgar?" A pause, and then a glance at Edyis' shoulder seems to clear any surprise of the other woman's lack of knowledge of the situation. Lia churns her fork over the tops of her vegetables, and considers the scribe thoughtfully. "A new Weyrleader, unexpected in and of itself, with a Weyrwoman and majority of the Weyr who don't appear to be supporting him, and he's thrown the Weyr into disarray by changing all the wings up so to put all his loyalists into positions of power." Edyis ahs at the explanation. "There seems to have been a lot of that going on at foreign Weyrs lately. Does seem like a textbook move, even if it isn't always the smartest one." Frowning as she consumes the bits of meat roll she's pulling apart. "But I guess that can happen when leadership is decided by whichever male can outfly the queen." "Oh, I don't know," opines Lia of smartest or not. A fork full of egg waves in the air as she speaks further, "If your Weyr is about to incite into riots or full out rebellion, maybe the smartest move is to subjugate your people. Kill morale so that rebellion dies and then work at mending bridges. But, I ride green for a reason, right?" This smile fails to warm up, and the egg loses its appeal, apparently, as she sets the fork back down. "Tell me about your life. Mine seems to be politics even when I try to get away." That earns a laugh, "I don't know, I rather like your outlook. Definitely has merit!" Another drain of her mug is taken before she laughs. "I don't think I would do much better, I file and copy reports all day most days. Which is dreadfully boring as far as conversational matter goes, unless you want to know which wing leaders have abysmal handwriting. Or who got caught kissing between the shelves in the records room." "Ahhhhhh," the last of what Edyis says earns a bemused exhale, and another backwards glance at the table she vacated. The smile on her face now palely colors her cheeks as it widens, which then causes Lia to laugh lowly. "The carefree life of youths, no? I'm Lia, by the way," she finally introduces herself. "And those in the records room seem to know of all the Weyr gossip, even before it happens. Them and the laundry workers. So, tell me," the greenrider tips her head forward so some of her hair spills into her face, "What's it really like with K'del as Weyrleader again?" "Stable, so far as I've been able to tell. I know he has something of a history and the Fortian Weyrwomen don't seem to like him much, Ali excepted, but he really does what he thinks is best for the weyr as a whole." Edyis lifts her shoulders noncommittally, "He's had a lot to deal with, Savannah's unexpected return and then the situation in Tillek. I don't know that he's done any rearranging of the wings yet though, refused to when he was acting and it's been several months now since he's been official Weyrleader." "Has," Lia's voice is perhaps a little too nonchalant in her low drawl, "Anyone had much of any opinion on Z'ian's injury before he transferred down south?" She might be studying Edyis from behind a fringe of lashes, even as she keeps her actual gaze on the plate and her fork scooting together all the remnant food into one easily scoopable pile. "I'm sure they probably have, but that all happened well before I arrived at the weyr so I don't know too much about it, and I've not heard anyone bring it up recently." Frowning, as she processes the question more deeply, "Which when I think about it is probably more strange, Then again I've not heard a conversation about the Weyrleaders before K'del's most recent turn. Just thought people liked to move on, not get stuck in a particular moment." "It was a little strange, you know, how Z'ian got injured and how that brought K'del back into power." All not-so-light, but lightly spoken speculation comes to an end with an exhale as Lia finishes the last of her food. "Thanks for the conversation, politics aside. If you ever happen to find me between the records room shelves, I'd appreciate it if you just walked on by." There's a faint twinkle in the greenrider's eyes as she gets up. "Have a good day." And it seems her leaving isn't driven just by her lack of food, but by the fact that Boreal seems to all be up and on their way out too. Drills? Or wing duties? Or something. The scribe shrugs, though her brows remain furrowed. She smiles, "There's better places than the records room. It was nice to meet you Lia." Before returning to her own food mulling over that little speculation as she finishes her own meal. |
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