Logs:Niahvth's Fail Eggs
| |
|---|
| RL Date: 7 October, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, Irianke |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edyis and Irianke discuss the Weyr and the future. |
| Where: Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 13, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| |
| It's early in the evening, but the draw of eggs on the sands as much as a respite from the formidable Reachian weather has drawn at least one of the weyr's residents. Edyis sits quietly, pencil scratching away at one of the more comfortable sections of seating. Occasionally glancing up to look at the eggs or those tending them, or even those who come and go from the galleries. There's a set of tallies on one section of the page, with several marks in various columns. Niahvth shares her sands quite placably with her daughter, though less her daughter's choice in mate. Thankfully, Lythronath is not present at the moment, which means the senior queen of High Reaches is the epitome of chill. Irianke is found more often than not in the galleries, working on work and keeping an eye on the sands, but given how she's dressed for Igen weather more than Reachian weather as she walks in, it could be merely a question of enjoying the heat here versus what's out there. She stands at the entrance and glances down at the sands before looking up into the seating and climbs towards where the dignitaries usually sit, those comfortably cushioned seats, and seats herself next to the Snowdrift rider wordlessly. "So very polite of both of them to clutch during one of the few times of the year this place isn't sweltering." Edyis states as she hears someone settle into the seat next to her. She finishes the line she was working on before dark eyes lift, and with a muted surprise note the formerly Igenite woman. "Weyrwoman." Something of a more proper salute snapped off after a moment. "Hello, Edyis. Making numbers?" asks Irianke, her own salute less sharp, but such is the way rank works sometimes. "How does it look so far? What do the books add up to? Which clutch does what when and how?" She doesn't sound like she knows much about egg gambling at all with the way she's rattling of nonsensical questions. She knows it too, a lopsided smile curved at first Edyis and then the eggs on the sands. "I'm surprised Ros went up so early." Edyis laughs, "Tallying gossip actually. I'm afraid to bet on this bunch. Twenty-eight. Roszadayth's are closer to what counts have been in the past, but Niahvth's Fifteen, and after that flight." The brownrider's pencil taps against the page, "No telling what's inside those shells." Irianke's head lifts herself tall, a chin jerk and a funny, eye scrunched look passed onto the top of Edyis's head, something in between disbelief and what the eff. "I'm sure the gossip would be enlightening," says the goldrider, far more evenly than her fleeting look, which is now gone in favor of a brief smile. Edyis scrunches her nose with a shoulder lift, "Not particularly." She says of the gossip, "Few comments about how Roszadaeth's might be a little... well given which bronze caught." It is almost appologetic that grimace, "Mutterings about their not being enough candidates this time, or worse." She shivers then. "Its a good thing, that she had such a strong clutch this time right? A sign of her vitality?" And not of possible impending doom. "Why," asks Irianke, "Do people think there aren't enough candidates?" The goldrider steeples her fingers together and glances down at the sands again, her chin bobbling as if counting, then looks back sidelong at the brownrider. "Niahvth is Niahvth. I don't even pretend to understand the dragonhealing aspects of it. Leova likely knows more than I do." Her mouth and nose tip twitches at that. Edyis shrugs, "Possibly because of Tillek's," a pause, "Is it polite to accuse Ladies of hissy fits?" Edyis wonders, and at the sidelong look, Edyis just seems uncertain, as though trying to calculate possible outcomes perhaps. "She's a marvel," Edyis smiles, " I suppose if we understood everything about them it would take out some of the mystery and appeal of riding wouldn't it?" "There are other Holds, people in the Weyr. And High Reaches Hold, Crom, and Nabol don't seem inclined to take Tillek's decision to heart." Irianke remarks, and then adds, "Yet. And that's an eventuality that K'del and I are working to prepare the Weyr for, whether it happens in our lifetime or our children's. Nine Intervals before ours and every last one of them shows that people will forget." "Nabol remembers," And there's a strange sort of pride in the words, or perhaps more akin to admiration. It fades rapidly enough, "Still feels like it's a decade too soon to see that kind of response, but then I'm no diplomat, and only an amateur historian. It's probably flawed perception on my part." Another easy shrug, "Farideh mentioned..." She stops and seems to think better of something, "Internal search as being the preference." "Internal Search is not the preference. It is what we may be left with unless we decide to steal children, which," Irianke slants Edyis a dry look, "I am sure would ingratiate the Weyrs to the Holds even more." "Plenty of cotholds that wind up with daughters when they wanted strapping young sons." Edyis suggests with a slant of her mouth that may or may not suggest humor. "Doesn't the weyr foster out?" She asks then curiously. "The holds are probably harder than the Halls, if only because of the culture shock involved." But this too seems like an unfinished thought. "Why would the Weyr foster out?" asks Irianke, her brow suddenly puckered in confusion. "Plenty of cotholds that wind up with daughters when they wanted strapping young sons." Edyis suggests with a slant of her mouth that may or may not suggest humor. "Problems above my paygrade." She says with a shrug, closing the notebook. "It would still be kidnapping if they were taken when their fathers," the not so subtle emphasis is hard to miss, "Prefer them not to be." Irianke looks at Edyis. "You're holdbred, are you not? Have you cleaved to Weyr life so much you've forgotten Holds do not think like Weyrs and Weyrs are not generally welcome in many of the more hidebound areas of Pern. The further we get from Thread, the less people remember and you, yourself, was born after the Pass and even after the Comet Pass, no? Gratitude is not something most people remember for decades to come." "Ah yes, because the life of a broodmare is what every good holder girl should aspire to." Maybe it's that emphasis on fathers that adds the faintest roughness to the thought. "I haven't forgotten." She says after some silence. "I am just hopeful that there is some way to combat it on all sides." Her eyes close briefly and then open again. "It's up to people like you and K'del to actually change things, folks like me can only dream of possibilities." "People will think how they will and kidnapping their daughters or their effeminate sons won't change their views." Irianke studies Edyis again and shakes her head. "You have such untraditional ideas for someone who grew up in what I can only imagine was a traditional environment and seem to think just because you believe so the world should fall in line. If only." The last carries some measure of regret as well as a sigh that has the Weyrwoman looking at the sands again. "So people are betting that Niahvth's eggs will fail, eh?" "It was a joke." Edyis says with a quiet breath out. And as Irianke continues, she remains quiet, and there seems some internal debate. It's Irianke's question that manages to draw something else out "I'm sure some do, can't say I count myself amongst them though. For all I know it could be fifteen bronzes or five queens out there. Too broad a number to start betting on." And with that it seems the brownrider is getting to her feet, albeit there's a tiredness to the movements. "I'm told, during a Pass, a queen could lay fifty eggs, sometimes more, sometimes." Irianke looks at her fingers, only looking back up when Edyis moves to stand. "Twenty-eight eggs isn't ideal right now, and I wouldn't be heartbroken if some didn't make it, even if..." The Weyrwoman's voice trails off as she looks down upon her now sleeping soulmate. "Fifteen is a lot for the length of her flight and the Interval we're in now," she admits now that Edyis seems about to leave. "Have a good rest of your evening." Edyis freezes a little at the confession, dark eyes moving to the gold in question. For a moment it looks as though she might speak, or try to say something remotely comforting. Instead, she shakes her head, "Dragons know what the weyr needs." Which serves as her farewell along with a sharp salute. |
Comments
Faryn (08:37, 13 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
The possibility that Niahvth's hatching party will be a funeral with cake is kind of at the back of my mind all the time. I think Faryn's betting ledger is notoriously light this round.
Leave A Comment