Logs:Of Adjustments
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| RL Date: 10 December, 2006 |
| Who: B'yan, Charis, R'hin, Satiet, Shalyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| Where: Fishing Pond, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 2, Turn 10 (Interval 10) |
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| Your location's current time: 17:30 on day 26, month 2, Turn 60, of the Tenth Pass. It is a winter afternoon. You stride towards the fishing pond. Fishing Pond This little finger of the Weyr lake is entirely frozen over; however, drudges have made holes in the hard ice near edge by judicious use of ice picks. The forms of underwater rocks are muted by the ice. The natural land bridge which divides this pond from the main lake is buried under a thick covering of snow. The Weyr mountain walls loom above in the crisp, bitingly cold air. Contents: Jaireth B'yan(#8387PJce) Obvious exits: Lake Shore It's a late afternoon on the pond with some of the weyrlings out and about with their lifemates. Among those lounging is B'yan and Jaireth, the former busy finishing the last of the bronze's oiling with practiced ease. The two seem to be ignoring any nearby, though the muddy bronze seems to be interested in something back towards the bowl that his weyrling had to look pointedly at him. "You can trick the others later," he's heard to be drawling, slathering on the last patch before sitting back and pulling the oil bucket away. Out in the far edges of the frozen lake is an odd place to find a weyrling in the cold weather; perhaps it's for this reason that R'hin's sauntering here, hands in pockets, expression distracted. He's deep in thought, oblivious to the occupants at first, then the slight crunching of his boots in the snow eventually slow, furrow of brow denoting brief surprise as pale eyes flicker over the pair. It's the crunching of boots that gets Jaireth's attention first, the little bronze turning his head in the Weyrleader's direction as B'yan busies himself with the oil bucket. It's a slow pause before he turns back around and spots R'hin, the former itinerant halting his moment as his brow immediately furrows. With scrutiny, he drops what he was doing and steps over near Jaireth, letting his trademark smirk leak through the guarded expression before flicking some half-motivated salute in his direction. "Haven't seen you about since the hatching," he drawls, the tone cordial at most as he openly studies the other. Charis wanders over from the lake shore. Charis has arrived. The salute - or half salute as the case may be - receives an absent nod, rather than any equivalent response. R'hin's lips curl, blandness in his tone as he notes, "I've been rather busy. I'm afraid you're not the most important thing in my life, weyrling." Pale eyes shift towards Jaireth, the bronze receiving a nod of his own. He takes a few steps closer before halting, a concession - albeit perhaps a reluctant one - to a conversation. B'yan's lips twitch almost mockingly when he hears his title, leaning against the muddy bronze as he folds his arms across his chest. "Hm," he seems to concede dryly, continuing to regard the Weyrleader. "I might not be the most important thing, Weyrleader-" and the title is a light sneer at best, "-but you do realize, as have I, that now it seems we are... stuck with each other," and the brief glance to Jaireth is a casual one. "What a predicament. Surely you have words for me? Or is it best that we try to avoid each other for the next coming turns?" R'hin gives the faintest tip of head, as if B'yan's done something interesting all of a sudden. "No," he disagrees, "-You- are stuck with the -Weyr-." His hand lifts and gestures back over his shoulder. "That is an adjustment you, and Jaireth, will need to make. But, you have time, and I am in no hurry to force such things upon you. Some," a faint curl of lip here, and it's difficult to tell if it's amusement or derision - or perhaps even sympathy, "Find the adjustment difficult." Charis comes strolling along past the lake over the path to the pond, Qeteth's following closely behind her, warbling and crooning his most recent find. She pulls her jacket a little closer around herself, mumbling a response to her lifemate. She spots the bronze weyrling and the Weyrleader, giving them both a salute, "Good day sir, B'yan" "You -are- the Weyr, as far as I'm concerned," B'yan drawls, almost dismissing R'hin's statement with a sniff. "As for the Weyr in general, perhaps it's more that they are stuck with -me- than the other way around. Considering the distrust I've been given during my stay, I'm sure that is not a good thing. I know this for a fact from the self-esteemed Weyrlingmaster." He turns then, noting Charis' arrival with faint curl of lips and nod. "Afternoon, Charis," he drawls in a lighter tone than he's been using before he turns back to R'hin. With a low chuckle, "You and Satiet seem to think I'll easily give in," he notes in amusement. "You can guess which direction that I stand as far as adjustments go." R'hin's hand returns to his pocket, comfortable within the thick leathers of his flying jacket. The new arrival earns a steady gaze, and an easy smile of greeting as he nods in acknowledgement of the salute. "Afternoon." Qeteth, too, receives a nod from the Weyrleader, along with an careful, critical gaze. A twitch of lips is evidenced as his attention shifts back towards B'yan, "Then, perhaps you must make your adjustment to me." A shift of shoulders is given, as the bronzerider adds with cool disdain, "You seem to be making a lot of judgements about what I wish of you, B'yan. I hate to disappoint you, but I -have- no expectations of you. I do not assume you will easily give in. I understand that you have impressed a bronze, but that does not mean the world now revolves around you and yours. If you wish to use me as your personal punching bag, if that would make you feel better, perhaps we can arrange for a specific time...?" He half turns towards Charis, lifting a hand as if inviting her closer. "How fares Qeteth? He has grown quite fast," he says, approvingly. Qeteth waddles over from the lake shore. Qeteth has arrived. Qeteth unfurls his wings a bit to the Weyrleader, warbling a greeting of his own to him and then turns his attention to his bronze brother. Charis looks between both men, furrowing her brows a bit as she takes in the conversation at hand. She sighs softly, her face twitching, not sure how to respond at first. When a question is posed at her she offers a salute and comes over to R'hin, "Yes Qeteth 'as grown fast. Faster than I thought 'e would sir." The blue wuffles and sniffs the man curiously. The only reaction B'yan has for R'hin's words is a careful raise of his brow. "I wasn't speaking about Impressions," he drawls coolly. "As always, you misread when it comes to me." Pulling his coat closer about him, "Adjustment to you, hm? The offer for a personal punching bag is tempting, though," he muses wryly as he absently rubs at his chin. Jaireth, after having given R'hin his study, and then Charis, turns over to Qeteth with his full attention. The bronze weyrling also studies the blue before giving Charis a grin. "Is he still playing around with that rock with Kaylith?" he asks in amusement. "Jaireth was trying to con Kaylith out of hers a couple of sevendays ago." A low chortle of delight comes from R'hin at B'yan's response. "-I- misread? Oh, ho. You seek to set yourself up as the joker, do you? Don't let me get in your way." His hands are held aloft as if in surrender. The Weyrleader's pale eyes glitter with amusement as eyes track towards Qeteth, "It will start to taper off in a few months, as will their hunger. Though that's a lot easier once they start hunting themselves." He doesn't seem particular given to comment on the discussion of rocks, attention more on the dragons than their lifemates for a short time. Charis glances between the two men again, arching a brow up at both of their stubborn natures and dislike for each other. She doesn't have words for the Weyrleader at the moment, instead addressing the ex-rogue, "Yes, it seems dat Qeteth still likes 'is own rock, but its more fun for 'im when 'e plays with Kaylith. They seem ta 'ave a pretty good system down. I can't wait ta see them play Dasmareth and Corineth." She snorts softly at the thought of the small dragons trying to take on the larger ones in a game they invented. She does nod at R'hin, "Well it will be good when 'e can 'unt for 'imself. At least I don't 'ave ta cut meat anymore." B'yan sends a thin look at R'hin, hazel eyes narrowing slightly, "You misread if you think I would want special treatment just because of the dragon that chose me," he returns evenly with a curt nod. "I was speaking of the fact that I won't be able to leave here as freely as I use to, hence the 'stuck' comment." Beat. "Among other things." The former itinerant notices Charis' look between the men and flashes her a harmless grin when she answers. "Qeteth better be careful with his rock, then," he drawls, waving a gesture towards the muddy bronze. "He likes to con, I'm learning. I heard about the game, though. Think it's best I and Jaireth stay clear of Rilsa and her own for a little while," he adds wryly. He flicks a glance back to the Weyrleader during his languid remarks, listening to his words about the dragonets but not responding. A faint exhale of breath, and R'hin turns to Charis with an apologetic smile. "Forgive me a moment, but I suspect this is a thing better done now than later." His hands clasp behind his back, level gaze settling on B'yan, giving the weyrling his full attention. "You say you do not wish special treatment, yet you seem to strive hard for-- I don't know, some sort of validation from me?" His hands spread briefly, as if guessing, and making it obvious. "You wish my words, B'yan? Then you shall have them. You are one of mine, now, one of the Weyr's. Like it or not, I accept my riders-- with all their brilliance-- and all their foibles." There's a faint emphasis on the last. "You have the support, the protection and the backing of the Weyr, which believe me is no small thing. I hope you do not spurn it, but I fear you will chose otherwise. And that is your right." Charis nods her head politely to the Weyrlingmaster, taking a small step back, glancing at B'yan with a small sigh for him. She lifts the scarf that hangs about her next over her face against the cold air, pushing her hands back into her pockets. Qeteth studies the bronze dragon, warbling to him moving over to the frozen pond to tap on it with a claw getting that frozen sound he likes. The young woman, makes a small gesture to the blue, trying to not listen too much to the conversation, or lecture? B'yan keeps his arms folded, eyes widening slightly when R'hin focuses his words and attention on him. Perhaps the words rankle him by the clenching of those hands, his chin lifting slightly when something said seems to hit him. "Validation?" he echoes coldly. "Is that what you really think?" What's heard next only furthers his frown, the faint emphasis not going lost on the bronze weyrling. It is on impulse that he blurts, "Why you-", his anger apparent before bringing himself up short. With no further words and a heavily guarded expression, he looks to the pond, stalling his words as Jaireth ventures beyond him now to study the frozen pond with Qeteth. R'hin's steady, even gaze remains on B'yan at his reaction, and his self-censoring, too. "Please, feel free to continue," he invites, deadly serious, radiating patience. Charis takes another step away from the pair, walking over to the bronze dragon to smile at him. "'ello there Jaireth. You should try da pond with Qeteth." She glances over her shoulder, still able to hear what is being said by the men closeby. B'yan's has his eyes on Jaireth mostly, jaw tightening visibly as he gives a low sigh. R'hin's words doesn't get his gaze, though it almost seems immediate that he glances at Charis. Slowly shaking his head, "Why?" he drawls low, coldly in the Weyrleader's direction before finally looks at him. "So you can demean me at will? It's obvious you and I will never see eye to eye, so I'll make this easy." He turns from the pond, from Charis and the dragonets to face R'hin. "I don't like you. Impressing hasn't changed anything, so you can pretend to sweep things all you want, Weyrleader. I haven't forgotten. Just so you know." Beat. "As to the adjusting.." he hesitates, the guarded expression lingering on his face, "...it will be hard, but I know how to survive. I'll do what is necessary." Jaireth looks to Charis first, then ventures further with Qeteth curiously. It's brief that he looks back at his rider before he lowers his head and sniffs at the frozen lake suspiciously. R'hin's gaze shifts briefly towards Charis, though it returns soon enough to B'yan with a slight shake of his head. "You misapprehend me. I do not seek to demean you. You seem to be striving very hard to be angry at me, to make me someone you can hate. Perhaps because you wish to blame me. Perhaps you feel guilt, or doubt over what has happened. Perhaps you do not sleep so well at night, and you think of many things once Jaireth's asleep, when it's safer. When he can't hear." His voice has, oddly, softened somewhat, and there's a hint of familiarity in the words, almost as if he's speaking from personal experience. "I don't care if you like me. Faranth, get in the massive queue, if that's how you feel--" his hand flings towards the Weyr with a dark chuckle, "--but remember, that you are a part of the Weyr. I will go to the mat for you against -anyone- out there, regardless of my personal feelings for you." Charis looks back at the blue who has decided that he doesn't want to venture onto the pond right now. The dragon looks at the men, querying his likemate about their tones then heads towards the bowl, warbling and rumbling as he goes. The weyrling sighs softly, saluting R'hin even though she's not sure that his conversation will permit. She also nods to B'yan as well before following after Qeteth. B'yan lifts his chin with a derisive sniff, "You and I do not have an easy history," he drawls evenly, "and yet you think my anger is...misplaced, maybe?" and he cuts a hand across himself in a negative gesture. "You speak of blame, of guilt and doubt," and his eyes cut briefly to the muddy bronze. He doesn't agree or disagree with his words either. "You don't know my life. You never did," and some of the anger ebbs, though his hazel eyes narrow. "There... are those..." he halts, the words low as his gaze wavers away. It's as though he realizes his guard's going down, for his jaw tightens again, "It doesn't matter. It's mine to deal with," and he looks at the Weyrleader once again. "It interests me that you'd be quick to stand for me regardless of your -true- feelings for me. It is about loyalty with me. It is not as easy as you think." He half-turns to catch Charis' nod, and he returns her nod, seeming apologetic by his demeanor as he watches her and Qeteth leave closely. Charis heads back to the lake shore. Charis has left. Qeteth heads back to the lake shore. Qeteth has left. The other weyrling's departure earns an even tip of head in response to the salute, before R'hin offers a thin-lipped smile to B'yan. "I never claimed we didn't. Yet -you- put yourself in this situation," he points out, evenly. "As for your life, and your past, -you- brought it up, not me. What's done is done, though should it affect the Weyr, it becomes the Weyr's business." He waits a beat, not a trace of triumph or gloating in his voice, just cold, hard fact: "High Reaches Weyr is -mine-. If you doubt it, ask your brother." The mention of loyalty earns a glittering of pale eyes, barely concealed amusement. "-I- do not strive to win your loyalty, B'yan. I've not forgotten our history, either. But I will protect me and mine, by whatever means is required." Shalyn strolls over from the lake shore. Shalyn has arrived. B'yan keeps his eyes after Charis' departure, the words getting a faint smirk. "Only to remind you of where I currently stand," is his response, lips quirking. It's the latter words, the ones including his brother, that gets him to regard R'hin evenly. "It's also just so you know where I'm coming from," he drawls evenly as the bronze returns to his side. "Yes, the Weyr is yours," he adds dryly, rubbing at his chin idly. "Kam has told me of your words. But does this mean you own -me- in the process?" With Charis gone, he adds "Kam's been missing of late, but he'll turn up soon enough. I'm sure he already knows of the new position I'm in. Seeing as how he has lost his diplomat, I do wonder what his reaction is going to be." Hands folding at his last comment, "I suppose we will protect our own, then," he drawls, lips thinning, "but as I've always said, and I'm sure Kam has as well... our business never had anything to do with the Weyr." Shalyn wanders over to the frozen pond carrying a satchel around her shoulders, "Oh... sorry. Hope I'm not interrupting anything?" she asks the weyrleader and weyrling. There's a pleased glitter in R'hin's eyes as B'yan affirms the Weyr is his, as if content with the verbal acknowledgement. "Own you?" He pauses a moment, as if relishing the thought, before reluctantly letting it go. "No. But there are expectations, as with anything. The benefits are many, not the least amongst them--" his hand lifts and gestures towards Jaireth. A faint curl of lips follows, and he observes, "We shall see, when he shows up. By his own words, his hands are tied." Shalyn's arrival earns a curt nod from the Weyrleader, neither welcoming nor dismissing. "Good afternoon, Shalyn." Shalyn smiles, "Afternoon sir. I hope you and Jos are doing well?" she asks as she sits down on a bench and pulls off her boots. B'yan notes the pleased look from the Weyrleader and doesn't seem to approve of it by the brief narrowing of his eyes. Thought you said that you -had- no expectations of me," he drawls a bit coolly, leaning against Jaireth easily. "As for benefits..." and he raises a brow to that, "...I guess we shall see. It's good that you don't think you do...own me, that is," he adds with a smirk. "I'll be trouble enough as it is than to let me go through weyrlinghood thinking such a horrendous thing." The words about his brother gets a tip of his head, seeming to concede the point, "His hands maybe tied in ways," he drawls, "but that was before all this. As you say, we'll see." Shalyn's arrival does not go amiss to the bronze weyrling, giving her a dark scrutiny before flicking a belated salute to her, cool and brisk with no greeting. "Quite well," R'hin answers Shalyn easily. "I'll let Jos know you asked." B'yan's comment earns a twist of lips. "Well, you are -expected- to work, just as any member of the Weyr is. That, is not a personal expectation. It's simply a fact of life. I'd heard you might have troubles with this..?" His head tilts, gazing thoughtfully at the weyrling, as if giving him opportunity to explain, or not as he wishes. Shalyn since B'yan barely, and almost rudely, acknowledges her presence she just returns his salute before pulling out her ice skates from the satchel. Pulling them onto her feet she tightly laces them up before securely tying them up. "Please do, and mention that I've been meaning to drop in for another of our visits but with the baby I've been exceptionally busy lately." she smiles as she responds to R'hin's polite offer. "I'll say work is expected. I just finished a day of sweeps and I'm stiff and sore from sitting astride Oenoneth all day, that's why I'm here now to work out some of the stiffness." she says as she finishes putting on the other skate. Satiet strides over from the lake shore. Satiet has arrived. B'yan blinks a bit, taken aback by the Weyrleader before a smirk starts to spread across his face. "Ah," he touches the words smoothly. "Tell me you're not speaking of that whole 'shirking' thing," he drawls with a flick of a hand. "Some of the tasks were better off being done by those that wanted to is all," is his casual explanation. "I'm sure you got the full report from others you speak with." He doesn't respond to Shalyn's words, only giving her a measuring look as she agrees with the Weyrleader. "I'm sure she's understanding. She doesn't get enough time to spend with her own child as it is. I keep telling her she needs to take more with him, but--" R'hin exhales slowly, as if it's a lost cause, before his brow furrows in sudden thought. "Well, perhaps -you- can talk to her, as a mother as well." He suggests, head tipped as he regards Shalyn. Hands clasp behind his back as pale gaze shifts towards B'yan, twitch of lips evidenced. "No. They were done by those who felt they ought to pay for what the Weyr gave them in return: food, shelter, protection, and a chance to Impress a dragon. I would consider that small trade, regardless of the menial nature of the task. Or, did you simply consider it beneath you?" Shalyn glides out onto the ice in a wide arc, she smiles at the suggestion, "I'll do that, I have a bottle of Benden white I've been saving for just such an occasion. Thanks!" Silently now she begins to do figure eights on the ice, forward for one half, gliding backwards for the other. She smiles and waves to the junior queen as she also arrives at the pond. A vigorous jog about the lake seems to be winding down into a more leisurely trot as she approaches the fishing pond, the bobble of her ponytail swaying slower in time with the rhythmic pacing of her steps. Entirely comfortable with winter's lingering chill, despite the shorts and sleeveless she's donned, Satiet's head tilts, her steps slowing even further as the assemble at the pond captures her attention - it's hard for it not to: small area, lots of people - until finally, she halts at the fringe, heavily breathing and mopping her forehead with the back of her hand. B'yan sighs, flicking something off his shoulder absently in the pause before he levels a look to both greenrider and Weyrleader. "Save for the one that squealed to the wrong person in his brief moment of frustration, I didn't see anyone else complaining," he returns with indifference. "I wasn't thinking about what was beneath me or not. I was thinking free time by delegating tasks. It got done either way." Looking to the pond after Shalyn, "I told Josilina that maybe there should be a balance erected in the tasks. You know, have some tasks based on dragonriding along with those others. Some of the candidates have never been to the Weyr until they were Searched, and I'm sure they weren't expecting to be changing glows and whatnot all the time." He catches Satiet's arrival, his smirk growing as he says no more. Shalyn giggles, "Oh! His bronze can't even fly yet and he thinks he can delegate tasks and offer advice to the Weyrwoman! I'll bet 10 marks he's not even Flurry's wingleader either." she punctuates the observation by doing a double jump and gliding backwards in a wide circle, arms spread wide one leg raised in a graceful pose. "Excellent," R'hin agrees enthusiastically to Shalyn. "Although do try not to get her -too- drunk, hm?" Wry tone accompanies the words, pale eyes tracking the greenrider until movement elsewhere garners his attention, settling on the woman jogging towards them. Eyes linger on the goldrider even as he answers B'yan, "There were chores based on dragonriding duties, which you'd have known if you'd actually taken part in them. Firestone sacking and breaking, mending - riders must mend their own straps. It would be difficult to assign many of a rider's other duties to candidates, since they are made difficult without a dragon, however." Shalyn's comment earns a look, but the Weyrleader's expression is even, and he says nothing. Shalyn knows when not to press any more issues and keeps mum as she continues her routine on the ice, although when she attempts a triple she falls onto the ice. When she slides to a stop she recovers, brushes herself off and starts again. Silent as she gauges the conversation, Satiet begins to cool down from her jog, simple arm twists and stretches allowing her to remain standing straight and watching the trio before her. "I imagine it doesn't take much for Josilina to get drunk. Or half-pint for that matter," the goldrider notes, voice cool. "Good evening, sir. Weyrling." Each person in turn gets a nod along with an extension of a greeting, though the greenrider's is more belated as the fall causes a slender brow to quirk oddly. "And the jumping bean." Shalyn grins as she brushes off some more ice shavings as she skates closer to her friend, "Hey Sat. Never improve yourself if you don't practice and learn from your mistakes eh? I'll get the triple eventually. Jos usually limits herself to a single glass... leaving me with most of the bottle so yea doesn't take much to get me sauced." she swings wide before tucking herself in and entering a rapid spin, when she emerges she stays upright albeit a bit wobbly. B'yan looks pointedly at Shalyn and her comment, boldness in his stance along with his smirk turning cool. "I did the ones worth doing," is all he drawls, hazel eyes staying on the greenrider as he addresses R'hin. To his explanation, he flicks his attention back to the Weyrleader, "Perhaps," is what he answers with. "You can't atleast blame me for shirking the meal preparation," he notes wryly with a half-shrug. "Let me near anything to do with cooking and the Weyr won't be eating for the day. Perhaps I was simply saving you from such trajedies." With Satiet now coming up, the bronze weyrling flicks off a half-hearted salute, "Weyrwoman," is all he drawls to her in greeting, tone wry. "A fact that disappoints the connoisseur in me," R'hin observes dryly on the heels of Satiet's words, smile tugging the corners of his lips up as pale eyes very obviously drift over the goldrider's form. "I'd thought you usually take your constitutional earlier in the day." It's an observation that, perhaps, isn't expectant of an answer, given he continues, "Ah! Remind me to gift the Weyrwoman with more bottles of wine, in that case." He is, perhaps, being facetious, light tones accompanied by a grin. B'yan's comment earns a sidelong, speculative look, "And yet you now lack a complete understanding of the many, various duties that are undertaken to support you -and- Jaireth, now. Menial, yes, but none of them unnecessary." "I did tell him he should find it in himself to grow up." Satiet remarks on the heels of R'hin's observation of B'yan. As languid as her movements are, graceful shifts of her arm stretched one way or the other, her voice is sweetly tempered, suspiciously void of sarcasm. "Like how splendidly you grew up, dear Weyrleader." A beat allows her pale eyes to drift across Shalyn, managing just a dry smirk for the greenrider's movements. As for her constitutionals and the time of day they occur, an absent: "I run when it pleases me, in the morning but also when I have time. You should consider jogging sometime, the paunch around your belly is getting insufferable." Shalyn chuckles, "Or perhaps take up ice danceing... I could use a strong competent graceful partner." she grins as she winks at both Sat and R'hin. "Perhaps all three of us could share a glass sometime R'hin. Think you convince her to come to Shipfish island sometime?" "You think I lack, do you?" B'yan drawls at R'hin in a light tone. With a snort, "Next to Jaireth thinking he can do whatever he wants because I'll always be around to clean it up, I've been managing just as fine as the rest of the weyrlings," he adds in defense. Satiet's words get a thin grin, studying the goldrider in the lingering pause. "Well then," he drawls, shifting his lean against the silently observing bronze, "you can mark up my errant ways for just being uncivillized. I mean, I do have such upstanding role models here, after all," he adds in sarcasm before flashing a sweet grin. The stretches do not go unobserved, R'hin not particularly bothering to hide his interest. Satiet's comment of him earns a slight narrowing of eyes, though tone is bland enough as he retorts, "I had a wonderfully -supportive- environment in which to do so." The goldrider's latter comment, however, earns a glittering of eyes, speculative: "You can see through clothing now, or--" a curl of lips follows, "--you have joined those graceful, tittering women who seem to have excellent timing when I attend the bathing caverns?" A musing look is given Shalyn, "You'd be much better than I at convincing her to leave the Weyr, I suspect." The Weyrleader's brows twitch upwards at B'yan's comment. "You've far better than you deserve. Do you think," his gaze shifts towards Satiet musingly, "We could convince S'din to come back simply for this one? I'm sure he'd appreciate his own -personal- Weyrlingmaster." Shalyn grins, "I think even S'din would enjoy the challenge sir. Although I'daur might feel slighted. Tough call, but I'll support you." The look that cuts across to B'yan is quick, but rather to the point as her cool eyes balance out her saccharine expression: the sweet curve of her smile, the arch lift of her brows. "S'din is a far different taskmaster than I'daur, fitted perhaps to breaking even the worst of us." Satiet eases her shoulders back, rolling one at a time before standing with her weight to one side and a hand held loosely to her hip, while a hair tousle sends her gaze over R'hin in deliberately ignorance to rest on the skating greenrider. "Either I see through clothing or your paunch is becoming that visible. Have you been slipping the notches on your belt lately, sir?" B'yan gives the group a forcefully cheerful smile, waving the suggestions away with a hand. "Although that would be -too- kind of you to place such a privelege on me," he drawls, the dramati mocking apparent, "and from what I hear, S'din and I would be at odds more than is necessary, I think I'm fine at where I'm at." Dropping the act with a cool shift of his shoulders, "The Weyrlingmaster and I have been... decent, so far. But I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless," he adds dryly, looking from one to the other speculatively. He gives a light snort before pursing his lips, looking out over the frozen lake. "Oh, I doubt I'daur would feel slighted. I'd explain the... entire situation... to him." R'hin says, blandly, eyes lifting upwards as if to contain sudden expression. His arms lift up and away from his body, invitingly, as he says, "Perhaps you would like to see for yourself, weyrwoman? If, as you say, my paunch is quite considerable, I would have a difficult time seeing how many notches I'd- acquired." B'yan's comments earn a thoughtful look and, perhaps, interest despite the mocking form his words take. Shalyn thinks, "Perhaps you should. This one strikes me as the kind who might not return from his first trip between. Since he already seems to think that he knows it all already." she says in all seriousness, not a hint of mocking or anything derogatory is in her tone. Satiet's laughter in response is dry, a flippant wave of her hand negating R'hin's kind request. Instead, the slight woman turns, her ponytail bobbling again with the movement and focuses her pale gaze on B'yan. "Ah, but perhaps you require that kind of head butting." A thought evokes an even dryer smirk, sarcasm imprinted in the dimple on her cheek, and a narrowing of her eyes onto the more novice of riders. "To realize your current place in life, weyrling. Some children require beatings when they're younger, others don't." Clearly, with a dismissive downcast turn of her eyes, B'yan doesn't fall into the latter category in Satiet's view. "R'hin," a softness envelopes the suddenly throaty way the Weyrleader's name is spoken, "If I could have a moment of your time later, a glass to share and some conversation." Perhaps it's something that Shalyn says gets B'yan's eyes to narrow, seeming to bite back the snide retort that was coming to his lips when he hears Satiet's own words. "You assume I don't know, weyrwoman?" he delivers evenly to her with a raised brow. "I am reminded everyday, but you and I have already discussed this." Even in the way she speaks the Weyrleader's name, the bronze weyrling looks away and walks over to the oil bucket sitting by the rock, his back to all of them to mask some of his quelling anger. "I'daur is an excellent teacher," R'hin says of Shalyn's comments, the words mild, but fairly obviously a rebuke. His arms drop back to his side, considering look given to Satiet, before he accepts her request with considerable aplomb, though perhaps negated somewhat by the pleased glitter of pale eyes. "Consider me at your service, weyrwoman." Shalyn bites her lip, "Oh no disrespect intended sir. I'm sure he is or you wouldn't have appointed him weyrling master." she observes B'yan's actions, "Um, Sat... I think you might have... come... closer to home than you think." she says substituting one work for another. She ceases her antics and tricks and just glides in lazy circles over the icy surface. There's a flicker of bafflement as Satiet turns to regard Shalyn, though R'hin's pleased glitter is noticed in the process. His elicits satisfaction in the pale eyes and the glossy pony tail twitches in cadence with her movements. "Closer to home?" "No, indeed," R'hin agrees mildly, before he, too, bestows a puzzled look upon the greenrider at her comments. He's pointedly not looking in B'yan's direction - either he's pointedly ignoring the weyrling, or giving him a moment's space. Jaireth seems to be fixing everyone with looks as B'yan picks up the oil bucket and sets it on the ground. Turning to Shalyn, "You're wrong," he drawls when Satiet picks up on her words, though it's apparent that something has soured his mood further than before. He gives R'hin a guarded look as he moves back to Jaireth, moving his carrysack to the side. Shalyn glances to Oenoneth for a moment... Oenoneth bespoke R'hin and Satiet with « She says she thinks that the mentioning of striking of youth was close to home about the young one. » Shalyn looks up, "Thank you love." before turning to B'yan, she ceases her skating, "Was I? Really?" she looks earnest, "Then please... what has you so upset?" she asks seriously. A sharp look fixes on Oenoneth and then Shalyn, and a grimace sets Satiet's lips thin. Her response, cool and distant begins the goldrider's departure from the trio: "I disagree. Perhaps you should observe teenagers more often, greenrider to discover what truly ails our young bronze weyrling." While she's quick to turn away from Oenoneth and her rider, the weyrling in question garners a lingering look, dry eyes giving way to a faint spark of recognition and a slow smile that curves crooked across her lips. Her words, however, are to R'hin. "I'll have a glass ready for you later, sir," before she's off again, trotting leisurely towards her ledge, though not without one last backwards glance to B'yan. There's a faint intake of breath accompanied by a stiffening of shoulders on the Weyrleader's part for a moment, a brow twitching upwards. R'hin's grimace is briefly visible at Shalyn's query of B'yan, though he holds his tongue, hands clasping behind his back. "Weyrwoman," is all he murmurs to Satiet, a nod given to her as she takes her leave, pale eyes lingering on the woman as she departs. Slinging the carrysack over his shoulder, "I'd be careful where you're slinging the word 'teenager'," he drawls to Satiet instead, his cool gaze lingering on her with a hint of a challenge. He catches the backwards look and watches her leave as he picks up the oil bucket. Back to R'hin and Shalyn, "You don't want to know," is his continually cool answer as he keeps his back to the departing weyrwoman. "Trust me." Shalyn glides a little closer, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't expect an answer B'yan. And it might help if you share it with someone. I'm willing to listen... please." Although R'hin remains, his attention seems to almost be more on Shalyn than B'yan, faint furrow of brow near invisible. B'yan fixes Shalyn with a look, suspicion coloring his eyes as he steps away from the group. "You claim I'll more likely die going Between earlier, and now you want to be the beacon of trust?" He gives her a derisive snort, his tone mocking as he looks her over. "That's not how I operate. You can try such tactics on those more susceptible to opening up." Beat. "Ma'am." To the point, the soured bronze weyrling flicks a glance to R'hin, bemusement in his eyes before he nods to Jaireth, turns, and starts heading back to the bowl with the muddy bronze in tow. B'yan heads back to the lake shore. B'yan has left. Jaireth heads back to the lake shore. Jaireth has left. Shalyn starts to slowly circle again, "Not at all. One was a projection of a possible future if you continue on this self destructive path. The other is an offer to help avoid that future by takeing a different path. But I can only offer a friendly hand, you're the one that has to accept it." She kicks off. A ringing sound drifts across the lake: it's R'hin, clapping. "Congratulations, greenrider. You've guaranteed he will never seek your counsel again. Though if it was intentional, then you've done well, indeed." The Weyrleader's tone is dry. Shalyn does a double skate stop sending ice shaving into the crisp evening air, "What?" she looks honestly befudled. "Nevermind," R'hin dismisses it with a slow exhale of breath, crunching a few steps along the shore before halting a little closer to where Shalyn's stopped on the ice. "You said you were going to see Jos? Could you--" he hesitates, uncertain, briefly, "--just see how she's doing. She's seemed awfully busy of late." Shalyn closes the distance between the two, "Yes me an Jos often visit, not as frequently as we used to but we're friends. And for some reason I feel a need to visit someone who's rational." she blinks, "Is there something, specific, you're concerned about?" R'hin runs a hand through his hair, frowning briefly. "I don't know. I'm just worried that maybe she doesn't spend enough time with R'sel, and their child. R'sel wasn't exactly pleased about Leiventh catching Lhiannonth, and I respect him, that's all." He hesitates, "Don't-- don't say anything to Jos about my concerns. I just want to make sure she's okay, not bother her with further things." Shalyn nods, "Of course I wouldn't. Girl talk is girl talk. But I'll make sure she's okay," she shrugs, "or try to help, if I can, if she's not." "Thank you," R'hin says, with a grateful tip of his head. "I'd best get inside, since I've been out here for a while. Enjoy your skating," he adds, with a finger of fingers towards the lake, faint smile evidenced. Shalyn smiles, "I will, and I was serious about wanting a skating partner." she waves. "Clear skies sir." "I'm afraid my time is rarely my own. Even in winter." R'hin smiles expansively, "But, I shall keep an eye out for likely candidates for you. Good afternoon, Shalyn." Hands tucked into his pockets, he strolls towards the bowl. You return to the lake shore. |
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