Logs:Potential Recruit
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| RL Date: 8 March, 2013 |
| Who: Vienne, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Z'ian hangs out on the rim, Vienne meets him. They talk brawl and potential. |
| Where: Southern Rim, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Clear, crisp. |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions |
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| Southern Rim of the Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#857RJ) Directly opposite the sharp spikes of the Reaches' characteristic spires lies the bowl's south rim, from above seeming pinched like a baker's pie crust to form this distinctive lip: a soft curve, several dragonlengths long but only four lengths wide before narrowing into impassable crags. It would have to be an apprentice effort, however, given how even the flatter area is riddled with cracks and hollows, dusted with glittery silicate quartz that is far more gritty than sweet. Though the view down into the bowl is commanding, the views beyond it can be absolutely breathtaking on clear days: eternally snow-capped mountains descending to high-altitude meadows and the dark brush of evergreens, and greener valleys beyond even those, with only glimpses here and there of human habitation. But the views come with a risk: the wind can blow hard and strong, and whether looking inward or outward, there is no protection from the precipitous chasms that fall away from these heights.
The last time Oswinth and Vienne were headed off somewhere and stopped to visit with someone on the peaks of the bowl, it didn't go so well. But this morning, as the blue wings up from his lowly little ledge and turns into a curve through the airspace while they discuss whether to stop or not, they seem to deam Tsanth and Z'ian to be decidely more welcoming. The blue misjudges his landing a little, closer than Tsanth might prefer when he's wrapped around his ride as he is. Oswinth rumbles something of an apology and Vienne rubs at his ridges comfortingly before se goes about hopping down. It's a pretty ginger process, landing mostly on her good foot and trying not to use the other one too much. The bruise that mars the side of her face is mostly covered with her hat and the artful hang of her hair. Tsanth is a cool character and not just because the temperature is low. He wraps his tail more tightly around Z'ian, but otherwise observes the pair as they arrive with a sort of casual curiousity. He accepts the rumbled apology and shifts so Oswinth can have the space he may require. Meanwhile, his rider has tracked the progress of the two all the down to their spot. He pushes his knit cap up on his head to check them out, lifting his thermos in greeting as she dismounts. His jaw sports a nice shiny bruise from K'del's wild fists the day before. Unfortunately he doesn't have a cool hat or hair to hide it with. "You make a habit out of visiting high up places when you're hurt?" That's his greeting, tossed over to her with an amused turn up of his lips. Once she's on the ground, Vienne favors her bum foot, but not so much that she's hopping on the other, through the snow, on top of a cliff. It's just a limp, and for Z'ian's wry greeting, she flashes him a wide cheeky smile. "I'm a daredevil," she claims with a laugh. She might not seem concerned, but Oswinth doesn't take his eyes off her. "You don't mind a visitor, do you? I know people usually end up here when they don't feel like dealing with everyone. But sometimes... I don't know. I think if people really wanted to be left alone, they could get a lot further away than this." Her eyes stick to his bruise. "Let me see," she tells him, tipping her head as he should to give the best display of his injury. "What's the deal with that, did you get stamped on? Tripped? I lost you in the bustle of everything. There one minute, gone the next." He sounds a touch apologetic on that point. "That's true. I hear the whole planet is full of people though, hard to really get away from them." Z'ian replies, his grin broad and wry. "So why bother going so far away when close to home will usually do?" To her question on minding company, he delivers a quick shake of his head. Tsanth unfurls his tail enough to politely allow Vienne into the inner sanctum of his personal space, if she wants it. And for that request, he tips his head in the appropriate fashion. But not before taking a sip from his thermos. He offers it out to her, "Hot klah, interested?" "Yeah," Vienne says, lips disappearing after that as she bites them between her teeth. Stamped on, tripped, all of the above. "It's not so bad. They just wrapped it up and told me to go easy on it." She hobbles in a little closer, careful around Tsanth's tail - she's mobile, but not nimble. "Someone's been lying to you," she tells him, letting her smile pull slyly as eyes his bruise. "The planet is mostly empty. You can go almost anywhere and have the whole place to yourself. You might need to get out of the Weyr more often. Do you know who got you?" Who hit him, that is. Her teasing smile is gone now, but she sighs out her gratitude for the klah, taking the thermos. "Oh, thank you." It's the kind of thanks people reserve for when someone gives them morning klah. It's a special thing. "And here you are on a cliff. You are quite the daredevil." Z'ian remarks, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. With the bluerider within their circle of influence, Tsanth wraps his tail around them both protectively. "You sure? Planet seems like it's got a lot of people. Maybe you're just good at avoiding them. I can't seem to get away." He's teasingly playful as he hands the thermos over and leans back into the bronze's warm side. "You're welcome. And just the guy I was trying to keep out of trouble. He started flailing his arms like a mad man and caught me right in my face." He's rueful for that and sighs, eyes drifting over the landscape once more. "What a mess." Vienne drinks deeply with the satisfied slump of a proper addict getting her first fix of the day. She hands the thermos back, but her grin is already shy again. "I've never been in a fight before," she can honestly say, her eyes darting to the side. "If I can call that 'being in a fight' anyway. Maybe I still can't." But she does lift a hand to press lightly at her temple, where her own bruising has spread from. Her gaze drifts out toward the bowl, the Weyr just waking up and the morning light streaming in. "It seems like it must really always be like this here. Just, one thing after another." A mess. "I think that was more like a brawl. I'm not sure I even understand how it all went wrong, all of a sudden there were just other people involved." Z'ian is slowly shaking his head and looking regretably towards that spreading bruise on her head. "I'm sorry that I wasn't fast enough to keep them apart. I thought maybe if he got it out of his mouth first but... That was a mistake." He sighs and accepts his thermos again, taking a long swallow from it. "It's been a rough... decade? I don't feel like it was like this when I first came here. At least the Reaches is never boring. Small consolation I'm sure." "Keeping them apart didn't seem to really be the problem," Vienne agrees. "It was everyone else; there were suddenly all these extra bodies and arms and elbows and shoving." Her brow starts to furrow, not looking back at Z'ian, but just keeping her gaze down across the bowl. "Not boring," she agrees with regret. "But I don't like to see people hurting." The small bluerider wraps her arms around herself, a stiff hug in her wool coat, and there's the sense that she isn't talking about the physical injuries any number of people might have sustained. "I might not know H'kon, but I find it hard to believe the things K'del has said." The draw of her breath is tense, as is its release. "Some of my wingmates think it's all a great turn of events." As some Taikrin supporters likely would. "No." Z'ian is shaking his head again, his hand running over his face. He's maybe more tired looking than usual. "If I'd just grabbed K'del and pulled him out of there right away, things would have been different. Now he's got that brawl on his record and who knows, Taikrin will probably use that as an excuse to stick him out watchriding at some minor hold." He exhales again before commenting with reluctance, "But maybe that wouldn't be for the worst right now." It's a moment before his eyes drag back over to Vienne and he takes another long swallow. "I do too. Personal opinion is that someone dropped that on his ledge either on accident or on purpose. We'll probably never know." He offers the thermos out to her again, "I imagine they would. How is Snowdrift treating you? We transferred some of mine over there recently." "I'm not sure that would be such a bad idea," Vienne says quietly with regard to solitary watchduty in bumfuck nowhere. She wets her lips, continuing her self-hug, her distant stare. "It seems implausible to think that, after all this time, if H'kon had that necklace for any purpose, he would have left it on his ledge, even by accident. But, K'del isn't himself." Her mouth grows small after that, as if she can lessen everything she's just said by making her lips disappear. It's only when Z'ian asks after Snowdrift directly that she turns to look at him again, her smile ready. "Oh, they're good to me. They were very helpful when I got here, they'd check on me if I was sitting alone, that kind of thing. I just... I know people think this Weyr is all divided up. That a given wing believes this or that. Sometimes it's difficult to listen to the way they talk." She clears her throat a little and, oh, why yes, she would love another mouthful of klah. "The only way I could imagine H'kon having left something like that out to be found on his ledge would be for him to drop it on accident. Which would mean he'd have to have been carrying it around. Which seems... not like H'kon. Implausible as you say." Z'ian hands that thermos off to her again then. "I tried to get some of that into his head yesterday, to get him to think. But he's just not there, he's too balled up in his own grief still. Maybe he's not the leader some us thought he could be in this or maybe he's not anymore. Or right now. I don't know." He tugs his jacket closer around him. "Boreal is still rather traditional, but changing. Hopefully for the better and the future." Cutting his teeth on his lower lip, he casts a glance her way before pulling his gaze to view ahead of them. "What's the chances of luring a woman that's happy with her wing away from it and into another?" Vienne doesn't seem at all quick to comment on the state of the former Weyrleader. She takes her mouthful of klah and then another, swallowing and letting its warmth fill her empty stomach. "He's lost," is all she says, whether she means right now or for always is hardly clear. Since Z'ian is busy with his jacket, Vienne keeps hold of the thermos, letting it hang from her fingers where he can readily reclaim it when he's ready. Her glance considers him, catching his and the way he looks ahead again. "I guess it depends on the woman," she begins, drawing the words out faintly to suggest she's not entirely unaware that he might be talking about her. "And how happy she really is." Which might sound somewhat dubious at the moment. "Though Snowdrift does allow for persuing things other than drills and sweeps." And the implication there might be: what can Boreal offer? "Yeah." That's all that Z'ian can say for the other bronzerider now too. But there's a lot in that one word, it's not dismissive. It's largely sad and maybe frustrated as well, the emotions are there however. Once he's readjusted his jacket properly he reaches out to steal the thermos from her, tipping it to his mouth and drinking down some of that warmth. It's offered to her again, perhaps unconscious of the back and forth that's started to develop. "Hmm." He begins, breathing out. "I think Boreal might persue something similar. Though not quite yet, it still has to undergo a cultural change. It'd be avantageous for the wing to recruit a woman that was forward thinking, that could bridge some gaps and was potentially ambitous herself? More people like that would see Boreal realize a greater potential, faster." His eyes flicker towards her. "A man can't do it alone." Vienne can hear the weight of that single word that has so many varied undertones and she settles into accepting the easy back and forth of the thermos, though her sips get smaller as the contents dwindle. She, however, happy to let her thoughts meander over wings instead of broken bronzeriders and their demented accusations. "Sometimes I'm surprised by how many wings -- here, back at Igen -- haven't really adapted to the Interval. I suppose that's..." She slides a wry little smile back at Z'ian. "Forward thinking." But there's something else in his words that has caught her attention, has her brows nipping inward with thought. "Ambitious?" she questions the label. "I never understood it either. I mean, I'm all for drills and sweeps because forgetting is you know, fatal for the future. But in the meantime." Z'ian shrugs his shoulders and keeps up with thermos swap in the meantime. "Potentially ambitious. You know, with ideas maybe for herself. Doesn't have to be, I don't know that I consider myself that. But maybe that's personal perception." His gaze wanders again and it seems like his mind does too, caught onto some stray thought. There' a quick shake of his head, "So do you want to join my wing and help make it less of a male chauvinistic pit or what? I'm not good at beating around the bush." It's now that he directs his eyes onto her fully again, flashing Vienne a quick smile. "Too upfront or?" His correction, adding that more ambiguous 'potentially' to the descriptor, has Vienne smiling again. "You mean a person could perceive ambition in a man's interest in ferreting out dissentors, seeing them stripped of their rank and taking it for himself? Or they could see a man trying to help his Weyr and ending up in a position he wasn't exactly looking for?" Her smile is so warm, teasing, that it's clear she doesn't actually mean him any insult by bandying about the things people could say, things he's no doubt heard from various sources. But for his more direct question, she shares a bright, toothy grin. "Maybe. I'm..." breathless. "Flattered that you'd ask me. No, it's not too upfront." She has a quick laugh there, a shake of her head. "There are things I like about Snowdrift, but feeling voiceless isn't one of them. Can I think about it?" "That's about it exactly." Z'ian returns that smile and laughs, handing her the thermos. There's not much left, so he must mean for her to finish it off. "If I was really that ambitious, I'd be disarmingly charismatic too. I'd spin a really impresssive line about coming to Boreal and helping be a force for the futu-" He cuts himself off there, whether naturally or artfully it's hard to tell. "Well, I guess I sort of did try and do that." His smile now is boyish, almost innocent but not quite there. "Of course. We won't be going anywhere and I know better than most how disconcerting an abrupt wing change can be, so." Vienne's eyebrows start to creep upward around the time he gets to the word 'disarmingly', all expectant skepticism written on her face. Oh really? And he's going to keep talking? She just waits, smiling with obvious patience until he cuts himself out. And for the boyish grin he finishes on, she lets out a light chuckle. "Yeah, something like that," she'll give him. The mention of abrupt wing changes spurs an even bigger smile and she shakes her head because, it's a mildly inappropriate joke at times like these, which makes it all the better. "Abrupt changes of any sort, really," she tacks on with a wry grin, just to make it worse. But it all fades away as she comes upon another thought: "Do you think Mielline would be upset with me for leaving?" Z'ian laughs on the exhale, perhaps not having realized he'd even made a funny joke. But he catches it then when does that tack on. It makes even a little more amusing for him. He rests his shoulders back into his dragon. The next takes him a moment and he falls into brief, thoughtful silence. But finally, "Mielline? Possibly. But I would like to think that she understands a person needs to make choices for themselves sometimes. If that puts your mind at ease any." "You'd think I'd be used to betraying people by now," Vienne sighs, a faint roll of her eyes for her own sorry joke, or maybe just her useless concern over her wingleader's reaction. She finally does lift the thermos to drain the last of the klah, a bit of a face made for the expected grit at the bottom. She works her mouth to chase it away and hands the thermos back for the last time. "I'll think about it," she tells Z'ian, twisting a grateful smile onto her lips, even if there's a bit of distraction still lingering in her eyes. "Thank you, though. For thinking of me." Meanwhile Oswinth wuffles quietly, pulling her attention and urging her to shift her weight, preparing to go. "I'm sorry about your face. I'm sorry I didn't..." Lift K'del over her head and carry him away? She just sighs. "I'm sorry it all went like it did. I'm glad you were there." Z'ian's eyes narrow a touch at her words, concern drawing his 'brows together thoughtfully. She's tipping the thermos back for the last of the klah and for this time around, the bronzerider doesn't question her on that score. He doesn't quite look suspicious, just curious. It's something that's probably mentally filed away for later on. He accepts the empty thermos and tucks it under his arm. "No problem. Thank you for thinking about it." As for his beautiful, beautiful face: "Eh, it'll clear up. He didn't break my jaw or anything. Be careful with that leg of yours, don't stress it." And for her last, "I'm sorry it went like that too. And I wasn't the only one trying to keep it from being a mess. I saw you too." But she's leaving and perhaps he really should get to doing his job or something. A little stiffly, he pushes off of his dragon to straighten up. For his curiosity that is not quiet suspicious, Vienne only smiles, an understanding sort of expression that doesn't really discourage questions but certainly isn't looking for them. Her movement away is stilted, a little careful given the snow and ice of the ledge, but Oswinth is attentive, watching her steps as if he has the ability to safeguard her footing with his mind alone. "For all the good it did," Vienne remarks on her own part in the brawl, another more pointed roll of her eyes. She makes an exasperated gesture to her foot, like it's just an unfortunate ball and chain, and hobbles her way to the blue's side. "I'll see you soon, Z'ian. Thanks for the klah. I feel more human already." And then she manages to get herself back on Oswinth's neck, to leave Z'ian and Tsanth to whatever their job entails today. Hopefully there will be less vomit than yesterday. |
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