Logs:Open Opportunities
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| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: R'hin, Keysi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Morning assignments are handed out, the new recruit is held back briefly |
| Where: Homestead Built For Two Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Light rain, chilly autumn morning |
| Mentions: A'gon/Mentions, Bristia/Mentions |
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>---< Homestead Built For Two Weyr, High Reaches Weyr >----------------------< The passageway leads between the two couches, the walls narrowing in until it's nothing but a corridor with darkness at the far end. A doorway leads off in each direction, the two rooms almost identical as far as size and shape are concerned: roughly oval, with aged tapestries covering raw stone almost the entire way around the room. They're easily large enough to house living quarters and bedroom each: to have both to one person would be pure luxury. Both rooms have doors with locks, as though occupants of this double weyr live together, but desire absolute privacy nonetheless. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- Keysi F 18 5'7" athletic, brown hair, grey eyes 0s R'hin M 54 6'1 lean, sandy hair, pale blue eyes 2m ----------------------------------< Exits >--------------------------------- Keysi's been part of Savannah wing for just over a month now; long enough to know the routine. Most days, it starts with a mid-morning (rarely early morning) meeting in the double weyr shared by R'hin and Bristia. Most of the time, it's regular assignments, if you can call, 'visit Crom Hold and make a friend with the kitchen staff there', or 'find someone at High Reaches Hold prone to gossip' assignments. Sometimes it's less specific than that, and sometimes, either R'hin or Bristia will ask one or two people to stay back for their assignments. Keysi's been paired with more experienced Savannah riders until now -- a different one nearly every couple of days, enough that she's at least passing familiar with all her new wingmates. Today, when the Wingleader gives out assignments, Keysi isn't given one, at least, not before the wing start to disperse and disappear, in singles or in pairs. R'hin's leaning against the back of his couch, arms folded, watching the others file out. Keysi, for as much as she in this past month has been working on that thing called a smile when associating with people of the visited holds and pursuing assignments with the intensity she puts into everything, is far from relinquishing all of her rings of comfort. One of those is standing in the same place for each meeting, her riding helmet poised in the crook of her arm, her expression even, untelling, as serious as ever. But when the wingriders begin to leave, given their locations and orders associated with them, there's a blink that unsettles that stoney exterior. She looks over her shoulder at one rider she'd been with the day prior, and then eventually to R'hin. Expression is no different, but she does take a couple of steps forward to decrease the distance between herself and her, now Wingleader. "S-" The formality catches in the first syllable, and there' may be the twitch of a hint of a grin in a private thought, "R'hin." the question that should follow hangs in the air unsaid. R'hin's brows go up, caught by the unfinished formality, sliding into a brief, low-throated chuckle at her self-correction. He doesn't say anything immediately, as others stream out, the last being A'gon, who is haranguing Bristia to play in tonight's poker game so he can wing back 'what she stole from him' last week. Once the silence of the pair of green's wings have faded, the Wingleader turns his full attention towards Keysi. "So," he says, expectantly. Expectant of what, isn't clear, but he seems to think she should know. A small crease of her forehead illicits a sign of mild confusion that escapes her. Keysi narrows her eyes a degree enough to be noticed as she studies him, searching his expression first for the unspoken expectation. For a moment, her storm-grey gaze breaks from him to look out the entranceway of the weyr now empty of wingriders. The reeling internalized thoughts seem to be reigned in with a shake of her head and a return of her attention, "So, do I like it? Do I appreciate the opportunity?" Her tone, while controlled, has a lightness to it that isn't far from causing a smile as she tests for possible completions. "It's not what I expected." That comes too easily, as if it's been said before. "But I didn't have expectations, not when I didn't end up in Snowdrift with most of the others." She trails off at that, not yet circling back to the rest. The spread of R'hin's hands seem to suggest that either interpretation of his unvoiced question is just as appropriate. That or he's being contrarily R'hin. He seems to consider her answer for a long time, folding arms across his chest, exhaling a breath. "Snowdrift would've been ok for you. But not apt," he says with a solemn certainty. He glances towards the ledge, then back to her, that solemnity lingering in pale gaze: "When you -- when you feel comfortable, we can talk about what you really want. How the wing can help you get it." "Neianth is very appreciative of what you've given us." Whatever amusement was there is set aside, and when R'hin glance away, she does as well. "The opportunity, I mean. I don't know if I'm doing...well with these assignments." The pause may well have been more the distraction as his last comment since she becomes uneasy, uncertain for a moment, her fingers readjusting on the inside lip of her flight helmet, the gear as a whole being adjusted in her grasp. "Aren't I supposed to first be helping you? My position as a rider in your wing. These assignments aren't typical assignments. We must be helping with something. Anything of mine would be second to it." There's a question in there somewhere, more asked by the look she gives him than anything. "No one's complained to me... yet," R'hin clarifies, with a low-throated laugh. "So you must be doing well enough -- believe me, no one tends to hold back." He unfolds crossed arms long enough to tug a hand through his hair. "Mm. You've been listening to those harper tales again, haven't you? Ought to know better," he says with a brief cluck of his tongue, despite the twitch of lips that follow. "One doesn't necessarily negate the other. Occasionally -- sometimes the two overlap, and I'm all about taking the the coincidences as conveniences. Think on this thought: there are places in our past that haunt us. Places we feel we can't step any longer, for the ghosts of the past, or the present, or the future. But now," he spreads his hands anew, "You have wingmates, who can visit those places for you. Ask the questions you cannot. Learn what you want. Help you. What we do -- for the Weyr, information to help them -- we can just as readily do for our own." "I.. don't doubt that." Keysi notes in regards to the wingriders giving their opinions, "Yes, Harper tales." A faint grin betrays her at that, though it's hard to say whether it's him or herself that she's amused with, "Traditions, formalities." Her free hand lifts as if to dismiss them, but it's half-hearted, given that previous comfort she'd hid behind in them. The hand returns to hold the other side of her helmet as she brings it in front of herself to slowly rotate between her hands. She watches it instead of R'hin now, her grin dissolved into the seriousness of the thoughts that had been simmering just below the surface of before, "Not for me." She says with some volume of resolution. "There are places I need to go, but I needed what you've given me so far. My knowledge before was from the hides. That gossip I heard the other day-" There's a sudden mild lightening of her face, "I guess I never paid that much attention before. I can see that there's a lot that can be done, but I can't ask anything of them yet." "You can ask it of me," R'hin says, immediately. "And better sooner than later, because--" he grimaces, though the gesture is brief enough, and mutated in a snort of amusement soon after, "My generosity may not last, fickle creature that I am." Pushes up, now, drawing himself straight. "Think on it. Today, however..." he holds up two hands, the first, "Nabol," the second, "High Reaches?" and then: "I've heard rumors of some sort of deal between the two. I'd like to let K'del know exactly what it is, in case it bodes well for us. Your choice." "The problem is exactly that." Keysi seems to find her baring finally as she makes the statement, and she doesn't mean his fickleness. "I don't know yet." The rotating of the helmet pauses between her palms with a bit of pressure placed on it and she studies R'hin with her intense watch, "I wouldn't know what to ask of your generosity. Or to take advantage of more of it." The latter being lighter, almost amused. As minimally as she shares through expression, there's a sort of rollar coaster to it now. A lot has happened in a month for her, even if outwardly she's just as focused and shielded as she was- if maybe with the addition of volunteering in darts without all too much prompting. The resolution is reigned back, and with clear difficulty she pulls something straight to offer him, "The last I heard from the traders I care about, they were in route from Lemos to Bitra, but that was well over a turn ago. Before I Impressed even. It's nothing but stale information." The pressure on her helmet increases and then relents as R'hin offers her a choice. "By myself?" Is in clarification, not doubt of ability. But whether there's explanation or not, there's a nod of her head that could've been, perhaps would've been, a bow or salute prior to a month ago, "Nabol." R'hin seems to react most genuinely to the lighter comment about taking advantage of his generosity, earning a low-throated chuckle. "Well, I appreciate the honesty, for all that. And," he twitches a shoulder, "I won't pretend it's easy to know one's own mind. Still," his hands lower, pushing into the pockets of his pants, "Should you miss the... opportunity... to take advantage of mine, don't forget you have wingmates now." His brows go up at the mention of traders. "What's the family name? Easy enough to learn -- the Beowins trade with Lemos -- if they don't know the name, it'll be a simple matter to find out." Her request for clarification earns a stern frown that is, clearly, put on. "Only if you think you're capable of wearing your big girl pants, now. Divide and conquer, I say." When she claims Nabol, he exhales a sharp sigh. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Always High Reaches Hold with me," he bemoans, rolling his eyes. "Very well. Have Neianth let Leiventh know if you need anything. And," with a sudden grin, "Make sure you're back in time for the poker game. I bet Bristia's going to crush A'gon under her tiny little feet, and that isn't something you're going to want to miss." Keysi's brow raises slightly if briefly, though his chuckle seems to award a more earnest grin to crease her face that lingers. "It was Lasthun but I'm not sure they'd have kept to that name after I left." She doesn't sound entirely convinced with her own words, but doesn't let it hang. Rather, she seems more interested in his reaction to her decision. Eyes narrow curiously, her look bemused as she's caught off-guard with both the notion of big-girl pants and his preference, "Always?" One hand keeps the helmet as she lets the weight of it swing down and rest at her leg, the other hand lifts to raise in a somewhat dismissive wave. "I'll keep that in mind." Not that it seems to change hers. "He-" There's an odd pause, her grin spreading until it's already lightened her stormy eyes, "Will." But there's a shake of her head at the last, starting to turn for the weyr's exit already, "I've already put my vote on A'gon." "I'll let you know," R'hin replies, on the subject of the trading family, as if finding out is merely a formality. With a tip of head, the Wingleader concedes, "Maybe not always. But enough. One can only stand so much ex-exiles in their lives before all that talk of the sea starts to make one feel just as crazy as they are." He starts to step towards the exit in her wake, and visibly falters. Fortunately with her ahead of him it's probably not immediately noticeable; his hand snakes out to the nearest wall for balance, as he says, "My jacket--" as his excuse for turning back towards the inner weyr, with the parting advice: "I wouldn't put marks on that." The small sorrell-crowned dragon lands on the ledge mere moments before Keysi could step out onto it. The motion behind her is almost missed, though there's a hesitancy in one step; just one. One enough that allows the excuse to appear to be accepted. "Maybe not," She continues on the game, apparently having found enough enjoyment of it that it actually keeps her interest. "Or maybe so. I've got a good feeling about him tonight." The last noted as she climbs the straps into Neianth's neck ridges. The small brown considers R'hin before turning to face out into the bowl's sky. A'dragonback, the light of her face doesn't fade until physically covered. Neianth propels himself with force, wingbeats swift and keen until enough elevation prepares them safety for the sudden disappearance Between. |
Comments
Alida (02:58, 2 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
I enjoy seeing these two interact. :)
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