Logs:Paying The Price
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| RL Date: 30 May, 2015 |
| Who: R'van, Keysi, Farideh, Laine |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In the evening following Fort's hatching, High Reaches' weyrlings share their thoughts on the tragedy. |
| Where: Hot Springs, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Light snow. |
| OOC Notes: This is all I have of the log; if there's more, please add it in! |
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>---< Hot Springs, High Reaches Area (TP Room - HRW) >-----------------------<
Even further north than the Weyr itself, a short flight between crags and
over crevasses that even a wing-scarred veteran of Fall might undertake, a
cluster of clearings lies low in the shelter of hardy trees and ancient
stone. The outer two clearings might have been lost to more stubbly trees
Turns ago, if it weren't for the centre-most: a natural pool of warm,
softly bubbling water several dragonlengths across, with enough space for
perhaps a half-dozen people and their lifemates. Though the air is cold
all Turn round, and snowdrifts frequently whiten the ground, the
geothermal activity heats the mineral-scented water to such a consistently
comfortable heat that it becomes a refuge for those who don't wish to
travel further afield to wash their dragons.
Of the clearings that abut the spring, the nearest is only a few steps
away, though it's small enough that only a few dragons can lounge at once.
A steep trail descends to its substantially larger neighbor, a
gravel-strewn crescent with enough space to spread out and enjoy the crisp
air and the mountain range's admittedly spectacular views.
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Out
>----------------------------------------< 11D 12M 37T I10, winter night >---< Dusk. A gentle snowfall drifts down from a winter-dreary sky, though the air is is warm and humid in the hot springs clearing and flakes melt where they float into steam. A small group of weyrlings have made the short trek over crags, beyond the Weyr, and claimed the softly bubbling pool for themselves--their conversation somewhat muted, voices subdued, dampened by the heavy evening sky and news trickling through their number, from dragon-to-dragon, from weyrlings who attended the hatching at Fort. Among them, but separate, some distance from her peers, Laine has positioned herself against the pool's curve, her head resting against the edge and grey eyes staring up into the descending snow. For his part, Lifreyth, too, seems sobered--his bulk is plunged deep into the water, only his headknobs and lidded eyes visible through the floating steam. The small brown lands with overly-practiced agility, more apt of a blue dragon than his own tone of hide. Even for a young one. Perhaps it makes up for all the falling he did when he was restricted to the ground. Keysi slips from his neck ridges in not-yet quite so practiced effort and pauses, a hand on his shoulder as he settles at the pool's edge. Not much room for many dragons there may be at this upper pool, but he fits. He's small enough. Not that he'd admit it. His eyes are still laced with orange, the facets slowly whirling, watching Keysi with that severe intensity that she herself shares. They both seem tired, more tired than they have been. For her part, she's meshed into the leadership program ontop of the weyrling training with almost too-much ease given her nature. So this exhaustion is more than that. An old off-white tunic overlies her bathing suit. Whether she's just that modest or has more to hide, remains unclear as she sits on the ledge to put her feet in the water next to Laine. "Hey." Simple, effective. The mood -- Farideh's mood, anyway -- has been disquieted since returning from the Fort hatching, where more than a few of the weyrlings were witness to the green hatchling going between. It might have been surprising that she chose to venture from the Weyr to the hot springs, but then again, there's a serenity the clearing and its bubbly pool offers that the crowded Weyr can't. She's been in a small group comprised of a few of the green weyrlings, smiling here and there falsely, and not offering too much by way of conversation. On the tail end of some gossip-y, giggle fest, Farideh makes quiet apologies and shifts to the side, moving along the wall, staying low in the warm water so the much cooler air doesn't set her bare skin to goose-prickles. "Laine, Keysi," she says, quietly, resting her arms on the outer portion of the pool's edge, head pillowed on her forearms. Roszadyth is relaxing in the clearing, curled up like a giant feline. Vadevjiath lands heavily in the clearing, not long on the heels of his brethren; and he settles there in a crouch to let R'van slide down. They're pretty good at this by now, considering the head start they had on everyone else--wingleader's prerogative--but there's not really any joy in it tonight. Rafe's expression is furrowed in thoughtfulness as he removes and folds the bronze's straps, and Vadevjiath slides into the water first. "Heya. Keysi. Farideh." Laine's eyes lid heavily and she draws her arms across her chest, an unconscious imitation of her lifemate as he sinks lower into the water, weight and bulk shifting as Vadevjiath enters the pool. Giving space. Those grey eyes flicker open again, slowly, dark purplish bags vibrant against her fair skin. "You guys were there." It's almost a question. Almost. R'van's arrival is tracked only as a casual note; it's her lifemate that earns the weight of Laine's tired gaze. Neianth appears uninterested in getting into the springs' water, but eventually he settles down at least to lay where he landed a mere stride or two from the pool itself. Vadevjiath's landing is given a greeting rumble, but that is all. His focus is elsewhere. Keysi gives in to the warmth of the bubbling water as the steam rises just enough to dampen the rest of her skin and make her shiver from the chill above and the light yet unforgiving snow. She submerges to neck-deep, and sighs. The tunic rises slightly as it threatens to float while the rest of her sinks, but it's pulled down shortly enough. "Aye." Is given to Laine, a nod of greeting around the same time to Farideh and R'van. All in some sort of order. "It was.. unpleasant." Understatement. "Are you doing alright?" This, to Farideh specifically. Does Farideh notice their wingleader's arrival? She must, but she makes no pretense of saying hello, nothing more than casual observance. "Yes," she says, quietly, her eyes flicking to the side, to both Laine and Keysi. "We were and--" A sigh. "I am. It was-- unexpected. I thought-- I knew-- no, I thought, they always, found someone, anyone, but she just--" She shakes her head and curls her arms a little more protectively together. "I don't think I want to ever see anything like that again. It can't happen often-- right?" For once, even R'van is quiet, taking his time in getting in the water. When he does, he settles in near the trio of women with a sigh for the warm water. "Unlikely," he says, in answer to Farideh's last question. "Considering everyone seemed equally--" surprised? distraught? Fully submerged, Lifreyth may be forced to resurface eventually, but for now he's only a gauzy brown shadow under the rippling water. He's shielded his mindtouch, usually so light and open, from his clutchmates; what remains behind, dim but not wholly concealed, is frustration. His lifemate shrubs her face with her palms, a motion that turns into a rough tousle of her short hair. Laine swallows before she speaks. "They talked about it, before." Her eyes remain fixed on Lifreyth's immersed form, breaking away only to flick from Keysi to R'van to Farideh and back. "But I didn't think... Must've been awful. I can't imagine." "No." It's a definitive, but at least in agreement with R'van. That might be a first? "Back then.." Keysi trails off after Laine speaks as if not really wanting to finish her statement, though she would eventually. There's obvious self-blame in that, her usually level tone not-so-much with that as it dips with something like guilt. At least her expression remains unreadable. Her intense eyes drop to the water's surface, a scarred hand placed there just to feel the bubbles. "We did not have enough Candidates, but at least those few were the right Candidates. They did have enough Candidates, and they were not so lucky. Both times someone made a choice to limit Search." There's more angry than sad there, and it's evident by the dragon behind her more than her own expressionless expression. Scratching can be heard as white talons on blackened paws move over the rocky surface. Crouched sorrel beast never quite rises, more slides closer until his tan-touched nose can huff just behind her head. He lays his head there, almost touching but not quite. As everyone speaks in turn, Farideh becomes silent, simply listening, sheltering her expression from the rest with the wrap of her slender arms. It's Keysi that she focuses on, finally. "I wonder why. They-- we did because of the terms of the deal with Igen, but Fort--" Her brow furrows, and she shakes her head, heaving a world-weary sigh. Vadevjiath lurks on the surface with a dangerous sort of stillness to him as he watches the other dragons. His temper is heated as ever, only just restrained, while R'van seems mostly tired, his own disquiet redirected--sort of--into practicality. "Well. I expect they're paying the steep price for it now," he answers with a lift of his shoulders. But the idea still doesn't seem to sit well with him; Vadevjiath's anger is contagious, visible in the set of the rider's jaw. Water sheds off Laine's shoulders as she sits up straighter, lips pressing hard into a line of distaste as she quietly regards Keysi. "Didn't know they'd limited the candidates." She unfolds her arms, draping them across the pool's edge, and shakes her head with a cough that almost sounds like a bitter laugh. "Could've happened just as easily to any of the dragonets at ours." That scowl deepens. "Are they? Paying a price?" "Aye." Is Keysi's cautious reply to the weyrling wingleader. The orange-laced eyes behind her continue to slowly whirl. "I do not know. I've not kept tabs on their politics too closely." Is her answer to both Farideh and Laine. Her gaze shifts from one to the next in their small collective. "It could have. I thought it would, remember?" Keys lets her hands sink under the warm water, and lets her head ease back on the stone ledge to dip her released and unevenly cut hair. At least the months since she's sliced it off had given less obvious jagged lines to it. "They were upset, obviously. The junior weyrwoman- Lilah, if I recall?- she was trying to pull everyone from the galleries that she could. But some even turned away." "It wouldn't have mattered. It shouldn't've mattered. Dragons Impress to people in the stands all the time-- people who don't want to Impress, people who shouldn't Impress. There should have been more on the sands, more than the handpicked few and the people who came to gawk. Searched from the Fort coverage area, or any other area, really." Farideh's words carry fervor and conviction this time, her head lifting to slant a frustrated stare towards her peers. "That," she assures them, which she obviously has no right to do, "will never happen here, again." "Never," says R'van blandly, "is a very long time." It's his contribution to the conversation, his expression more brooding than anything else; he has that distracted, dragon-talk look in his eyes. "So a dragonet died because of-- of someone's political dick-waving. That's some fucking bullshit." There's a dark flicker behind Laine's eyes, once that's matched by a surge of resentment radiating off Lifreyth like steam as he breaks the surface of the pool, silent as a shadow. Laine leans her head back again, resting it on one arm as though the weight of holding it up were too much, and her thick brows knit over slitted eyes. She doesn't quite meet Farideh's gaze, an expression of reluctant agreement twisting her mouth at R'van's words. Keysi only listens to Farideh's fervor, quiet for the moment, but not relaxed despite her reclined position. Every muscle tense, her dragon tense. If only she could have- A snort from behind her cuts off her thoughts. And she refocuses on the group. "It's in your power." Pause, "Eventually." That follow up is slightly strained. They're all so young, yet. "Realistically, yes, but it only takes one person to put certain change in order. Someone aught to learn something from this." Irritation rising. She's not perfected her control. "Knowing 'never' is virtually impossible should not dissuade the effort." Grey eyes settle on R'van for that, though her voice remains.. barely.. calm. "It's not unusual," presumably the political dick-waving, "but this time it had unfortunate consequences." Farideh frowns, casting a baleful look at R'van. "Can't you ever have something positive to say? Something that doesn't make everyone want to throttle you?" She's saved the waste of more breath with Keysi's proclamation, and appears both impressed and startled by the brownrider's words. "No. It shouldn't, and I can't think of a reason it should ever be implemented, other than for political dick-waving. We didn't need to close our doors to Search outside of High Reaches' either. It was all just a-- just-- a tactic." "Effort, no. But promises? Assurances?" R'van's calm; in fact, having someone's barely contained anger focused on him him seems to make him more calm. The shake of his head dismisses the latter idea. There's a glance to Farideh, just for a moment; there that calm is boiling off, just a little, just for a moment. But though the tension's evident in his expression, he bites back the reply, at least. Jaw tight, Laine doesn't speak but grunts quietly as though exhausted by the effort of maintaining her outrage. There's a twitched, aborted motion from the hand closest to Farideh, a placating gesture beside the other girl's shoulder, before R'van's offers his level reply. "Don't-- she knows, R'van." Laine draws in a long, slow breath through her nose. "It's all well and good to implement changes and rules, but--" her eyes are closed, voice strained but steady, "--only that dragonet knows why she went between. Why no one there suited. Impossible to prevent. But worth trying to." "I was not innocent of it." Keysi says to Farideh on the note of High Reaches tactic. "I don't believe many of us were. I agreed to stand specifically after a quarrel with Quinlys regarding who should or shouldn't be allowed to stand. I took a side. I was wrong." It's a statement only, as if she long ago had already admitted that. "You can't lead on 'mights' and 'maybes'." Is her partial disagreement to R'van, though she's collected at that. He's not utterly wrong, but she's (still) hardpressed to fully agree with him. For Laine's words- the truths regardless of politics, Keys has even fewer, letting her gaze drop back to the water instead. There may be a small nod in there somewhere. An angry exit might be more dramatic if Farideh could actually stomp away and slam a door, so that everyone could hear it. As it stands, they're in a pool of water, so the only recourse she has is the dissatisfied sound she makes, before she turns and sloshes away, back to the gossiping greenriders on the other side. They, at least, don't seem to care about the political value of the day's earlier event, however unhappy they may be with the choice of riding leathers' a certain bluerider chose. "We don't have anything else, except 'should' and 'probably'," is R'van's answer to that. The lack of firm foundation doesn't seem to bother him at least. He watches after Farideh for a moment, lips pursed; but he lets her go in the end, in favor of a similar look at Laine. The cautionary note may be less than appreciated, but he'll not argue with anything else there. That deep breath? It's exhaled all at once, a sigh of-- frustration? Dismay? Laine passes her drained and narrow-eyed gaze over her (remaining) companions, and as she shrugs her fingers splay palms-out in the universal gesture of I'm out. Sides? Politics? Leadership? It's above Laine's paygrade (and presently that's nothing). "I don't envy her." Parting words, apparently. The brown-riding weyrling pushes herself deeper into the water and toward her lifemate. "So, we 'should' practice because it will 'probably' be good for us at some point. Doing nothing will 'probably' not be a problem, but we 'should' maybe-" Keysi is cut off as her eyes glaze, attention distancing itself from the group now one-less. "Fine." Not said to R'van, or Laine, or the departing, sloshing away Farideh. It started out well. Neianth stands, shaking himself, darkened pinions stretching to what length the area would allow. "I apologize." This, specifically said to R'van, is obviously forced, clipped and not by her own hand. The water swirls as she turns, palms on the ledge beyond the pools as she pulls herself up out of it. It's not so much Laine's departure of course that spurs her to brave the chilly hair, soaking wet and without a towel, but more the way her temper was slipping. The bland tunic clings to her, dripping, bathing suit obvious beneath but skin somewhat more protected from sight. "Not necessary," says R'van in answer; he doesn't pick the argument further. Maybe he's learning a little also. But when she gets up, he's moving, too: apparently it's time for each of them to retreat to their own quarters, such as they are. |
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