Logs:Of Visions of the Future
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| RL Date: 27 November, 2006 |
| Who: M'wen, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 12, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 14:17 on day 28, month 12, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a winter afternoon. You climb up some steps into the Lighthouse. Lighthouse Deck-HRH(#2520RJa) This is the beautiful LightHouse Deck. It is located on the westernmost point of the Hold. From here, the sea can be seen as far as the eye can see in every direction. Boats are milling around far below, working their way around the rocks and crags which litter the bay path. This seems like a very good place to sit and relax with your friends. The air here is calm and refreshing, and smells lightly of saltwater. You can feel cool drafts from the water below. The deep greeny-blue coloured water below you sparkles warmly under the sun's glare. The only safe way off the deck is back down the stairs to the Cove. Obvious exits: Cove M'wen climbs up the steps to the Deck. M'wen has arrived. It's a cold winter's afternoon - not a particularly busy time for the lighthouse deck, and that's undoubtedly the reason R'hin prefers to come here. He's secured his usual table towards the back, a bottle of wine already opened and half a glass consumed. One of the holder girls is currently standing by his table, but the Weyrleader's curt coolness is enough to dissuade her, and she storms off in a huff, to the pleased glitter of R'hin's eyes. Still wearing his fur trimmed riding jacket, M'wen strides up from the steps, eyes scanning the few patrons risking the cold weather for someone in particular. His gaze gravitates towards a familiar table with a familiar person occupying it, slowly weaving through the other tables in that direction. Reaching his destination, the brownrider hooks a chair with his foot, sitting down across from the Weyrleader with no wait for an invitation. With a brief nod, his greeting escapes as only, "Things are well?" A dry, low-throated laugh is the Weyrleader's immediate answer to the brownrider's query. "You could at least ease into things, wise man," R'hin chastises, though the words are without heat of any sort; he leans forward to pour a second glass for M'wen - the glass that the holder girl undoubtedly so recently took as invitation. "Tell me first, how are the weyrlings?" Taking the offered glass with a nod of thanks, M'wen gives it a twirl, thoughts looking to be elsewhere. Takin a small sip, he gives a small grin to the question. "They are as good as can be expected. They are all adapting well to the idea of sharing a mind with their lifemates and so far, the trouble-causers haven't yet...well..." He pauses, "caused trouble. I think if nothing else, their dragons are keeping them good, though for how long I can not guess." He takes another sip and looks to the Weyrleader, "I answered your question, now you mine?" "Mm." If anything, R'hin seems vaguely surprised, perhaps a little troubled by M'wen's assessment. "And none have seemed... troubled, by their new lot in life?" If the brownrider didn't know him well enough, it might seem an idle question, but little the bronzerider does is in any way off-hand. He tips his glass towards M'wen in salute, before taking a gulp. "I find my thoughts straying too often to the future, wise man. It weighs on me. I forget... -people-." He grimaces, unhappily. "Bayan seems to be the only one who can find something to complain about," M'wen replies, tone suggesting it was already implied. "Were you thinking of any of them in particular? I could talk to them...I'd like to think they trust me." He places the glass on the table with a faint clink, twirling the glass with thumb and forefinger. "What part of it weighs on you? And who, if anyone in particular, do you forget?" His concern is genuine, leaning over the table to listen to the bronzerider's concerns. "It's not always easy to tell," R'hin begins, though the twitch of lips suggests that the mention of the bronze weyrling is hardly a surprise. It is the latter query, however, that is given the gravity of his attention, gaze straying past his friend, towards the ocean view. "I think too often, of how someone can be useful to me, to us, to the Weyr. What part they will play when we change everything. I forget--" he breaks off, a faint grimace following, bespeaking unease. "I left Kali - that sweet little girl she once was - sobbing on the floor of her weyr. Because I wanted her to -see-, so badly. I wanted her to see, what she is, and what she needs to become, and it frustrates me that she can't. That -all- of them, can't see what we -see-!" The intent words are punctuated by a sharp slap of his palm against the table. "As opposed to," M'wen begins, eyes unfocused as he gazes past the Weyrleader in thought, "thinking of how they can't help anyone but themselves or...? There -is- a limit of where people become less people and more things to take advantage of, and I don't want to see you cross that threshold, but seeing the potential usefulness in anyone can only help us, don't you think?" His gaze drops to the table at the example, a troubled look crossing the brownriders face, "I do not think it is your fault to try to better others, despite the fact your methods sound to leave something to be desired." He pauses ti turn his gaze up to the sky, "No matter the idea, there will always be some who won't agree and -nothing- will come of forcing the ideas on those who don't want to hear them." The faint smile R'hin offers is anything but amused: "I fear I may already have crossed that line, my friend," he murmurs, quietly. A hollow laugh punctuates M'wen's mention of his methods, though he doesn't disagree with the assessment. It fades after a moment, and the Weyrleader turns his glass this way and that. "I know. I just... I want them to see what I see, so badly, that I forget. I forget to be a -person-." M'wen's expression is not one R'hin is comfortable seeing, and he exhales slowly. "I can see how your...persuasion can be counter-productive at some of these times," M'wen notes, seeming to attempt to lighten the mood. "Then what are you when your convincing them, if not a person? Some may have the exact same opinion that change will cause nothing but trouble and advocate for it with the same vehemence. What would one do with these pressures from all sides?" He gives a shrug as his answer to the questions, waiting for ones from R'hin. A twitch of lips is all that is evidenced from R'hin, but it fades fairly swiftly under the question that follows. "I don't know what I am. That's what scares me," he confesses, running a hand through his hair. "You could ask Kali. I'm almost afraid what she'd say, but I think she'd be more receptive to seeing you than me, right now." He shakes his head every so slightly, taking another gulp from his glass, reaching for the bottle to refill both his and M'wen's glasses. "I'm glad you're staying close to the weyrlings. You and Maja. I don't think I can afford to, not right now." For once, the brownrider seems lost for words. "Ask Kali what you are? I don't really know how to ask that, and...I really can't think of how I'd answer that in her shoes." M'wen accepts the refilled glass and stares into the liquid within, swirling it slowly, "I just want them to be the best you know? There's so much potential in this group and I know I can look after them..." He looks to the Weyrleader, "But you must at least show them your presence, even occasionally. It's hard to trust one you cannot see." With a low laugh, R'hin responds, "Perhaps it's for the best, that neither of us know." Whatever happened, it's clear he didn't like what he was. He gives a slow nod of concession to M'wen's advice, but adds, "I don't want to scare them away before I've a chance to get my ideas across. I see-- potential, too. I spoke with Felix, and Leiventh with her blue. She was a smith, before she Impressed. We can't waste talents like hers. We can't afford to." His thoughts are never far from the future, he says, and he demonstrates it clearly, speculative. "I asked her, about what the smiths do with flamethrowers during Interval. She said, they're important, they can't be forgotten - so they maintain them, go around to the Weyrs and Holds and train up people to look after them. Just like - she said! - just like dragons. They can't be put away, they're too important. But they can be put aside for a time." "I have not...gauged the reaction to the idea of change with any candidates thus far," M'wen says, an almost apologetic expression on his face, "Though I always find what others think dragonriders are to do in the interval. Some say to just prepare for when thread comes again, and some seem to think change is neccesary. It is good to know that thos who will be the most important in just a few turns will be sympathetic to your cause." He listens intently to the story about Felix, only acknowledging it with a small smile and curt nod. "We have time for that yet," R'hin says, of the weyrlings, "They have too many thoughts in their heads right now. They need to adjust, first. Acknowledge the shifting of their loyalties, their priorities. You remember how chaotic it was?" It's part query, part remembrance, the bronzerider offering his first genuine smile of the evening. "We didn't get along all that well in those days. Much has changed. -We've- changed." "Indeed I do," is the only acknowledgment of the comment, M'wen mirroring the smile of memory. "They are shifting well, all traces of doubt in their abilities by some seem almost gone. Those I know well have all seemed to fully embrace their new found dragonhood." He gives a low chuckle at the last comment, "I must say I agree. Though hopefully the change was for the better?" "I hope so," R'hin says, a shadow of his earlier unease creeping in, albeit briefly. M'wen's mention of those he 'knows well' earns a twitch of brows, intrigued. "And our newest goldrider?" he inquires, archly. "Our newest goldrider," M'wen confirms, seeming to imply her as fitting in with the group of those he 'knows well'. "I Think she finally realizes that she deserved the gold and it wasn't all a big mistake having her stand the sands, or so I've gathered. Though now, oddly enough, she seems to be avoiding me...though I am -pretty- sure it is not as malicious as it sounds." "It's probably for the best," R'hin says, not unkindly; his voice is quiet, sympathetic. "She has a lot to deal with, right now, and given you two were close... she undoubtedly needs time to readjust. It's a relief, though, to know she does well enough." One less thing for him to be concerned about, it seems, musingly gulping down the rest of his glass. M'wen only stares into his glass with a distant look across his face, "Yeah...your probably right, I'd like her to be able to redecide the course and direction of her life instead of just feeling embarassed talking about it all so early." He takes a sip of the drink and looks across at R'hin, "Do you not think those not from the weyr will be most likely to embrace change, as they have never known the weyr as mired in its traditions?" "I don't know. Perhaps," R'hin allows, thoughtful. "Harper's tales travel everywhere, however. You know - 'dragons must fly, when Thread is in the sky'? But there's nothing in the tune about what dragons do when Thread -doesn't- fly." A dismissive wave of his hand is given. "Perhaps it is time to consider enlisting the Harper's thoughts on such things." M'wen slowly stands to his feet, sliding the now empty glass across the table to the bronzerider. "Perhaps you can find a harper to make a new song? 'When threadfall is done, dragons retreat to the sun' or something?" His little ditty is accompanied with a faint laugh, as the brownrider looks off towards the steps down. "I assume I a being missed by the weyrlings, you don't mind If I go attend to my charges?" The little ditty earns a laugh, too, from the bronzerider. "Why, M'wen, I'd no idea you'd a harper talent to you." R'hin grins, tipping his glass in silent salute towards the brownrider. He does, at least, seem a little more cheered, despite M'wen's departure, "But of course. Nothing is more important, right now. Thank you, wise man. Your counsel, as always, is welcomed." The glass is shifted to his other hand to offer a salute to the assistant weyrlingmaster. The salute is sharply returned, a small grin on the brownriders face, having ended the meeting on a good note. "Maybe I should be the dragonharper?" M'wen suggests, a twinkle of jest in his eyes. "I shall attend them well, and they will be the best that they can be." "I'm afraid I've other plans for you, wise man," R'hin says, with a smile, pale eyes tracking the brownrider's departure. |
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