Logs:Nontraditional Students
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| RL Date: 10 July, 2015 |
| Who: I'dro, Ka'ge |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ka'ge distracts I'dro from cramming for an exam, but so does everything else in the universe. |
| Where: Weyrling Classroom, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 3, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
This cavern could easily house up to sixty weyrlings at a time, with
desk-space provided in neat rows for academic lessons and classes taught
by both the weyrlingmasters themselves and the Weyr's posted Harpers.
Heavy tapestries line the walls, depicting wings of dragons fighting
Thread, perhaps to serve as a reminder of the ultimate task and skills
that must be passed down the generations. At the head of the room is a
sturdy desk for the instructor, beside which is a tall filing cabinet from
which writing materials can be claimed and distributed. A chalkboard has
been hung against the wall in full view of the rows of desks before it. At
the back of the room, there is also a sandtable and space for storing wax
tablets and important texts.
At first glance, it looks like a wooden screen has been set against the
wall in the last third of the room, but closer inspection reveals that
this heavy screen is set on small wheels and can be folded and drawn back
to reveal a hidden feature of the classroom. Not Blood, certainly, but I'dro's upbringing, Holder parents, not from the middle of nowhere--surely it must have gotten him more in the way of formal education than most people on Pern could hope to claim. He is not, perhaps, the most likely candidate to be hanging around in here relatively late in the evening, just before a history exam. If anybody should feel confident, shouldn't it be his sort? Heaven knows his skills can't possibly lie in things like tossing firestone sacks. But, still, here he is, while Nasmaeth sleeps. (Still, it must be said, not in her own wallow.) He might be making more progress if he were actually looking at the book he's got open instead of staring at the tapestry on the wall. The darkling Zymadiath doesn't sleep, but preceeds Ka'ge entering the room in the dragonet's predatory stalking crawl as if something were waiting, something beyond the sliding wall that he needs to take care. Ever watchful, vigilant as he is. Neither boy nor dragonet stop to consider who else is in the room until the teen has drawn back enough space for the bronze to pass through into the sunroom to watch the bowl cast in night through the windows. "Studying not your favorite past time?" The hooded boy speaks before he actually turns around to look at I'dro, "Or something more important on your mind?" The arrogant smile that claims is face is a rather weak one. Aren't they all just a bit tired? Just a bit. "Not ancient history, anyway." It might be noted that the book he's got only covers since the start of the Interval, but time is such a relative thing. I'dro flips through a few pages of it and lets out a sigh, slumping in his chair. "I'd rather do it now than later, but this is exactly the kind of tedium I thought I was getting to leave behind. He... really is getting to be huge, isn't he?" Still looking after where the bronze had gone. "Anyway, no offense, but I don't want to spend my days studying remedial history with a bunch of teenagers. That would just be adding insult to injury." Ka'ge picks a desk a couple of spaces away, sitting on the tabletop of it rather than the chair itself. He picks up a book abandoned nearby, though with the way he thumbs through the pages so dismissively, it's doubtful he actually picked up what subject matter it's on. "Just gotta do it once right?" He pulls his boots up onto the chair seat, resting his forearms over his knees "Remedial surely isn't that bad, just a little extra time together." It's not a positive way that's spun, a little sarcastic disgust in his tone. "Besides, you should leave the good majority of them in the dust, make 'em feel bad." The grin is a little more awake now. His gaze trails off towards where his bronze had gone briefly before sliding back to I'dro, "Maybe a bit bigger than Nasmaeth." There's a slight eye-roll there, at the end--okay, the bit before the stuff about Nasmaeth. "There's not much that's even vaguely dignified about proving that you know more than someone who's five or more Turns your junior," I'dro observes. "But I can't bring myself to care who was Weyrleader in what order. I just want to graduate into a wing and be told where to go and what to do and it's not like I could accidentally end up Weyrleader someday. You," gesturing at Ka'ge, "should be the one with this," stabbing the finger down on the page of the book. "Aren't you worried?" "Even if they brag about how much they know? You don't want to shove that in their face, even a little?" Ka'ge offers, his tone an innocent thing. As if anyone would, of course. "About what?" The grey-garbed teen breathes an indignant sort of brief laugh at the puncutation of that, "About being able to tell a weyrwoman a bedtime story about her dragon's great great grandmother?" Everything that could be insinuated from that, is, as he tosses the book back on the desk he'd taken it from with a not-so-subtle thump. "Can't have stupid wingriders. Might get confused at people talking historical nonsense and then might fly into something hard. Like a Weyr." Eyebrows lift just a little. It's a slightly appraising look... that slides into a more indulgent one. "It makes about as much sense for me to worry about know-it-all seventeen-Turn-olds as it does for someone who's seventeen to worry about somebody who's twelve." Okay, maybe maturity isn't precisely that linear, but it clearly makes I'dro feel better to think about it that way, and that's all that matters, isn't it? He finally slides his book closed. "There's more to being Weyrleader than sleeping with the Weyrwoman, I'm pretty sure. Bit odd, though, not having a real one just now. I probably should have tried to understand better how all that works during candidacy, but I knew--well, no. I didn't know I'd Impress, obviously. But if I did, I knew it'd be her." "No." Ka'ge agrees, a half-hearted and lopsided shrug given as he settles a chin on a gloved hand. "But it starts with that." Crude, perhaps, but unjustified? The topic as it slides into relevant notes gives a slight narrowing of his eyes, his expression no less amused, "He's causing more than one man's fair share of complaints so soon after getting the knot." A thoughtful pause, perhaps even a touch admiring? It's not without sarcasm if it is. "It'll be soon enough one of them will fly, you'll be too busy staring at our lovely faces until it does, I imagine. Who did care in candidacy? Most of this bunch were hoping to go home before the shells even cracked." A chuckle--okay, it's probably closer to a giggle than even I'dro would want to admit--is halfway covered by a hand. "Your face? No, thank you. Not that there aren't a few bronzeriders around here--" Ka'ge can be crude, his slimmer compatriot seems loathe to even finish that sentence in such company. "I would have been staying regardless. This way means a few rough months, but then a weyr of my own and no need to keep arranging for rides to go visit my mother. I keep telling myself that. Those are the important things in life." If you're reasonably shallow, anyway. "What's wrong with my face?" Ka'ge appears briefly, mockingly offended, maybe even hurt. But it lasts about as long as it takes to say it. "A weyr of your own, but still plenty of time stuck with us. You won't get away so easily." But that's said lightly, not with the effort one might expect of something that could be so suggestive. He may as well be talking about the weather. He slides off the desk in an easy motion, turning away from I'dro for a moment to skim over the collection of reading material set out for them. "Your family that important to you?" Thankfully, in that brief period, I'dro does not get so far as actually outlining the faults in Ka'ge's face, even though his mouth moves like it might just be starting to form a word. "You're much nicer to have around in smaller quantities," he says, without much indication of whether this is truth or mere platitude. "You want part of my free time at that point and you might have to earn it." But oh, yes, lightly. "I suppose they're as important as anyone's. My parents have their faults, but I like them. Or, I like my mother, and my father and I make polite small talk and the rest of the time he pretends my sister's husband is his only son. They're decent people. I never intended to cut them off, only--again, smaller quantities." "Glad you enjoy my small quantities." Charming, of course, but he moves on to the latter, "Seems everyone has a bit different feelings on parents." is a searching, prying sort of thing more than an offer on his own accord. Ka'ge eventually lets his gloved fingers stall on a collection of bound hides, and apparently what he came for since it drags it towards himself with a hooked finger and clutches it in not exactly the most respectful manner of a shared resource. History of another Weyr, it would seem. Not Fort. "I shouldn't be promoting your potential remedial studies, or you may just have to stare at my face longer." He tips the book to his forehead as if some mockery of the salute they're being trained to do. "Good luck with that." Smugness trails him as he turns his back, and moves in the direction the bronze dragonet had previously. Privileged upbringing or no, I'dro is apparently not enough of a snot to go lecturing anybody about the proper treatment of books, though he's a bit more gentle about his when he re-opens it and sets about flipping around regretfully trying to find the page he abandoned not very long ago. "Yes, go do whatever it is that you two go do, and stop being such a distraction," the slightly sour response to the smugness, but his renewed discipline is no doubt only going to last a few minutes. Hopefully he'll get in enough reading to make it worth it. |
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