Logs:Nothing Personal
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| RL Date: 21 September, 2015 |
| Who: Faryn, Hanson |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Beastcraft Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: Faryn finally gets a meeting with the Masterherder. It doesn't go as well as she probably hoped. |
| Where: Runner Stables, Beastcraft Hall |
| When: Day 20, Month 11, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Too nice for an argument. |
| Storyteller: Rose/ST |
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| Just after lunch is when the meeting was scheduled for. It's still scheduled for then, just when Faryn arrives at the Hall looking for Hanson, she's left seated in the waiting area outside the Craftmaster's office. If she notices the note pinned to the door quickly, then that's more time to meet, if she notices it slower well eventually someone will be kind enough to point it out to her: [ Find me in the runners stables. Weather's too nice to be indoors. ] And indeed, the weather is nice for late autumn turning into winter. There's a crispness in the air that speaks of cinnamon apples, warm drinks by the fire, toes dug into fur blankets, and snow just around the corner. The path to the stables is worn and should be well known to Faryn. Just outside in the warm up pen, a brunette, Hanson presumably, is walking around a runner with a little girl of about five atop it. The Masterherder is laughing, her breath smoky in the chilled air. Faryn's not particularly known for her patience, and her anxious energy is barely repressed while she waits, jigging a knee as her only outlet for the pacing she clearly prefers - and then succumbs to, drawing to her feet after several minutes, approaching the door with a fist balled for a quick knock that never comes. She leaves the note after skimming it twice, puffing a low breath and turning out down the path to the stables with an automation of familiarity despite her years from the Hall. The temptation to meander the path is there, but that is one she doesn't succumb to. She slows her purposeful pace only when she arrives, her hands slipped into her pockets and her eyes on the Masterherder with a measured expression. For all her impatience before, her interruption comes politely: "Masterherder Hanson?" A hand lifts, asking for a moment more time, the other of Hanson's hands leading the reins of the bay the little girl, presumably her daughter, sits atop. One more loop, the mother-daughter chatter both adorable and repetitious, and Hanson finally hands control of the mare to a stablehand. A few more minutes are given to watching her daughter disappear into the stables with the teenager and then she turns, some remnants of the child-induced good cheer remaining on her face. "So," the voice is clear, wry without intention, and directed, much like her brown gaze, at Faryn. "What can I do you for." It's a question without the lilt of one. Faryn defers to the gesture without argument, just her own low puff of a sigh. Her hands slip into her pockets while she waits, the smile that touches the corners of her mouth automatic. There are some things that transcend anger, though it's notable the smile is for the girl. It dims considerably for the craftmaster to something pleasant and neutral. "I just --" she starts, then shakes her head. "Thank you for seeing me. I know you're plenty busy. I just..." should have rehearsed something. "I wondered if I could ask you some questions about the weyr. Not the weyr. About the craft, and why you've barred the weyrs from Search. I don't understand." One of Hanson's more expressive eyebrows arch, knowing in that high arc, and by the time the question actually hits the Masterherder's entire face is a contorted mask of deliberately composited mixed emotions. That one brow arch, the twist of her mouth in the other direction, her nose trembling. Finally, Hanson's right hand comes up to rest on her right shoulder and she looks back at the expansive warm up pen, the entirety of the Hall really. "That's quite a pair you have attached to you. Are you sure you don't have a penis attached to them?" "Yes, ma'am." Faryn's voice is tight, her eyes flicking to Hanson's knot and then back to her face again. "I'm quite sure someone would have noticed and made complaint." If they're being crude, Faryn can at least throw a ma'am into it. More to the point, "Half the apprentices at High Reaches think it's my fault they're stuck." "It isn't." What might have been a question is a flat statement, nothing good in Hanson's voice now, though, to be fair, there's nothing bad inherent in it either. She just isn't being pleasant for the sake of pleasantries now. It's not even neutral. It's just her. "Curious timing." It's an undertone, murmured with a bitterness that may get taken on the crips breeze, at least in part. Faryn straightens, squaring her shoulders and frowning at Hanson, and when she pitches her voice to be heard properly it is carefully politic -- at least as politic as she can manage. "The weyr's my home, now. I never meant to cause you trouble, if I did. It just seemed...." She doesn't say what. Rash maybe. Overreactive. Cruel. "You were the catalyst. But if they feel stuck that is their own choice to feel as such." Hanson looks to Faryn coolly. "You can tell them as much. Joining a craft is not a ticket towards some other dream. Especially when it's so blatant. I have no problem with Weyrs or Search or people feeling duty bound to honor being Searched but, resident, I do take issue when people join a craft without the good faith to put in the effort to see it through." The shake of Faryn's head is brisk and forceful: no. "If they can't afford to leave, ma'am, it's coercion. Not a choice." The line of Faryn's jaw goes hard, ticking with the gritting of her molars at the older woman's implication. "It wasn't a ticket to anything, ma'am. That's why I left. Ten turns wasn't a long con I was running to test things. I didn't join it as a placeholder, or any desire to leave. I loved it, for a very long time. And then I saw something I wanted more, even if it fails. Was this always enough for you?" "But the fact other people see it as a placeholder is the problem now. The craft spends resources and time to train people who we see potential in to grow, flourish, and yes, ultimately be productive." Hanson shoves her bare hands into the fur-lined pockets of her jacket. "You never seemed the type to go to bat for others. Always focused only on your own desires and needs without thought for repercussion. What changed, Faryn?" The pause is about long enough for a dragon to between: one, two, three. "I grew up, ma'am. And then I made a decision for myself anyways, and I screwed everyone because it was a slight to you." "You seem to think this was personal, Faryn, when leadership is anything but personal. I wish you the best in growing up in the future and realize that not everything is a decision out to get you. You'll get further in life if you," Hanson's smile is sardonic, "Grow up. The watchrider can take you anywhere you wish." Faryn's hands ball into fists and she rocks forward as the words hit home, but she stays herself just in time. "You're terribly convincing," she says, carefully controlling the measure of her voice. "Before I go, ma'am, would you let them Stand if a dragon chose them to? If I'm relaying messages, perhaps clarity would make things easier for everyone." Hanson looks for a moment at Faryn, then steps away without answering. There's regret of a type in her eyes, and a slight shake of her head. The patronizing condescension of a woman who has been at this political game far longer than Faryn has. The scoff will meet Hanson's back, then, as will Faryn's bitten, "Thank you for taking the time, Masterherder." It's training, and her voice doesn't match the sentiment at all, but she doesn't linger beyond the obvious dismissal. She's stuffed her hands back into that fine flight jacket of hers and turned to make her way back up the path, not tarrying any more than she did to get here. She may be moving even faster, in fact, to find her ride out. |
Comments
Jo (18:19, 22 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
This was very insightful. I love a character that comes along with challenges another like this!
Edyis (22:04, 22 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
This was good. So very good. <3
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