Logs:Productivity Derailed
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| RL Date: 9 July, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The gold weyrlings try to get some of that extra, silver-thread knot work done. It starts off well enough. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 3, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Braeden/Mentions |
| Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life. Once flying and ground drills are done and not-so-little dragons are packed off to the barracks, some weyrlings get free time. Not so for two tall dark weyrlings, now graced with white knots with silver to go along with the gold wound through them - they have more work, and what time better to get it done than in the hours before dinner? It's a time when workers have started to clean up for the day and prepare for the evening, a time that finds the nighthearth quiet - and a warm and cozy place with food and klah and wine to take over for a few hours. Holding a folder, Brieli is already shrugging off her coat as she strides in, but that red hat of hers - as usual - stays on. "Do you need a mug of something?" she asks over her shoulder, dumping everything on the table on her way past. Determined energy is a finite resource in the weyrling, evening descending upon a sluggish, sore Azaylia. Stacks of hide and a rare slip of parchment or two are lugged by her mittened hands, following Brieli into a familiar space. "Ah..." It takes a moment for her mind to start up again, hanging lips closing suddenly as she gives a tired smile. "That answers that. Guess I do." The table is fine, though she takes a step or two further, dropping her cargo with a nearly inaudible 'whump' on the floor. It isn't long before Azaylia's joining her notes, sprawling across the ground like Hraedhyth in her couch, taking a moment just to stretch in front of the hearth. So dignified. Looking sympathetic, Brieli pours out a mug, turning to offer it to Azaylia first - but she has to find her, looking around in confusion until her sharp gaze finds the other weyrling on the floor. With a quirk of her lips, she offers it down for when the stretching is done, noting, "It'll be harder to write there, if you're planning on it." There's no judgment in her tone, though - if that's where Azaylia's going to hang out, so be it. Glancing up towards the kitchens, only vaguely curious, "I wonder where they are with things. It's a bit... odd, checking up on them." Not that she won't, but. "I suppose there's not much crossover with the Herders yet." Azaylia will further channel her dragon in rolling around, though in reality she's squirming to get suddenly too-warm gloves and fur coat off. Folded and piled up neatly within her claimed space, she sits up on her knees in order to take the mug. "Thanks." Bright, if tired. Careful to set the klah down, she eases onto her stomach and tugs the pile of notes closer, "I don't really like it," An easy thing to admit, "I've never been in charge of folks older than me." Of which some of the kitchen staff undoubtedly are. Perhaps a bit behind, she tilts her head in Brieli's direction, "Why would they be? The Herders. For meat, I suppose?" She's trying. "Not at all." While getting her own mug, Brieli shrugs a touch. "I doubt anyone loves it. Well. There might be a few. I suppose there's a way to work with people less than over people, but in the end - they have to listen." It's not good or bad; it's just the way of things. Looking into her klah for a moment, she notes, "It's odd when you've worked with people, either helping out or otherwise. But it'll pass." She sounds more certain about that than she looks as she goes to take her seat, musing, "Well, there's meat. Knowing how many of what we have for the dragons and for the weyr. And dealing with the Crafters generally, I'd think - knowing names, making nice, so on." Azaylia is quiet, considering Brieli's words or possibly the suggested meal plans in front of her. The stylus is tugged from her ear where it was previously tucked, beginning to jot down variations in an attempt to balance variety with frugality. "I don't mind the helping part. Maybe it's... I don't know." She murmurs, between writing in that soft, simplistic script of hers. "I probably feel like I'm more important than I am." A breathless laugh, shaking her head at the possibility. "Oh, good point." The weyrling will lift her head and tilt it, poorly timed as she's not able to hide the wince as her friend continues. "I know the names of a lot of the Herders here, at High Reaches." She stresses the location faintly, otherwise unbothered, "But you should get to know them, too." Tossing her coat on the chair next to her as she opens her folder, Brieli looks a little bemused by Azaylia's words, blinking once. "Why do you think that? That you think you're more important than you are? It's not like you're unimportant. That's why we get the extra work." To prove how important they are, right? Because otherwise, this is all total BS. Sliding her own notes out and onto the table, she arches brows at the wince - what? - before; "If you'd help me with that, I'd appreciate it. I honestly haven't met that many of the Crafters here - more of the kitchen staff, the seamstresses. Some of the people we stood with." The end of a yawn is met with a desperate gulp of klah, though Azaylia has to tilt her head slightly back in order to do so. Wherry girl. "Mm. I feel like Hraedhyth thinks I'm the most important. I suppose that makes sense, she's my dragon, but it's..." Hard to explain. The flat end of the stylis harmlessly jabbing at her cheek in thought. "I'm used to being unimportant, I guess." Nothing sulky there, a simple fact that's tossed away with a pleasant enough curl to her lips and shrug. The arched brows may have been missed, instead she nods, "Sure. They might... well, I did leave to Stand and all." She brushes away the pessimistic thoughts and instead focuses on who Brieli knows. "You can introduce me to them, then. Like a trade." Of sorts. Thoughtfully, over her mug, "I'd have thought they'd all think that? Well, I suppose all dragons do, but all queens? But Iesaryth... She's so... You know." Brieli could likely only leave it at that to Azaylia, who would be keenly aware of the other gold's calm, fluid nature in comparison to the fiery one of her own. After a sip, starting to shuffle through her notes, she replies wryly, "Aren't we all. And do you really think they'd have an issue with you choosing to Stand? I can't--" She stops, expression shading a bit darker before, "Well, I guess you never know, but at a Weyr, they're likely used to it. And of course. You probably have met a couple already, doing chores." A pause before, a bit concerned, "What's keeping you up?" "It's not even about the Weyr." Azaylia tries again to explain the gold's opinion of her. "But you're probably right. Maybe it is normal, and Iesaryth's just the calm, rare one of the bunch." A fond smile for both of their bonds, who are hopefully not getting into too much trouble. Less talking, more note taking, she attempts to make up for lost time though it lasts all of a few studious minutes. "Maybe not." She answers simply, still distracted. "But I've found out just because someone's at the weyr doesn't mean that they agree with everything." Her hand stills, tilting onto her side to peek up at the other weyrling's table, "What do you mean?" Brieli is game to listen, if Azaylia is willing to explain; "What's it about, then? I'm just curious - I can tell she's definitely confident, but it's not easy to get all of it." With a mirror of her friend's own smile, if brief, she'll tug down her hat and get to work as well, though she has to agree with something close to a smirk, "That's true. I don't think anyone here agrees with one another on much of anything. Everything seems to have two sides." There's a moment where it seems like she could say more, but she'd rather follow up on the other weyrling. "You seem awfully tired - I was wondering if something was keeping you up." Azaylia makes idle scratches in the corner of her hide, something close to a star before she doodles a flower beneath it. This will take some thinking. "She's... confident is a good word. But it's like, not just about herself. But me, too. And maybe it's strange, to have her think- feel that we're the same." The stylis is abandoned in order to tug her mug closer, a pensive peer into the contents. "Like she knows stuff? Not the way Iesaryth does. And sometimes I trust Hraedhyth's judgement too much." A possible cause of that overabundance of self importance, if it could possibly exist within Azaylia. Brieli's concern has her draining the contents of her cup, perhaps perking up for the other weyrling's sake rather than her own. But there's a smile afterwards, "Oh, that. I ask for double loads of firestone during our laps." Physical exhaustion explained. "But sometimes I wake up early, or go to bed late so I can study more." Sleep deprivation is worn better when it's self inflicted, rather than Hraedhyth's doing. Careful, "It wouldn't be a terrible thing for you to think a little better of yourself. And knows, like thinks she's right?" Brieli picks up her mug again, amused as she notes, "Iesaryth does know things, but sometimes she just thinks she's right too. Hopefully, that won't get us grounded. Why do you think you trust her too much? She's not getting you in trouble." Though - is Hraedhyth? Azaylia gets the side-eye from her chair, though it comes with something of a grin. Perhaps surprised by the double loads, she doesn't stare over it or seem astounded; it does take a moment before, "Because you can already lift a fair amount? No wonder you're tired." Going to bed late or getting up early is more reasonable. "At least it's not stress, or bad dreams. "There, see?" Azaylia catches herself with a faint laugh, "Instead of saying that she thinks she's right, I just accept that she is." Not that there's much thinking involved, which could be part of the reason. "You know how Hrae is." A good chunk of the weyr does by now. "It's scary, how easy it is to agree with her sometimes. Even when she's being... unkind." Her head turns, and rather than the side-eye she gives Brieli the wide-eye. "Not that that happens a lot." As for the extra loads, her face falls into something more calm as her eyes turn to the hypothetical meal plans. "We only get to exercise a little bit. Sometimes it's not enough and I get antsy." Which is never a good thing, given her lifemate. There's a few tsks for her friend worrying over nothing, though the smile is grateful for the concern. It's startled clear off her face, "Ohyoudid?" A rushed whisper, sitting up on her knees once more, legs folded beneath her as she looks towards Brieli, expectant. With a slight smile, "It takes time, and I'm fortunate with Iesaryth. I know how Hraedhyth is - I think you just need some time to get used to her. That's what all this is." Brieli shrugs a little, cupping her mug with both hands. With an interested look, she asks, "Is she unkind? What does Hraedhyth have to be nasty about? Maybe protecting her Weyr from invading dragons?" Her tone is teasing at the last, I-know-something-you-might-not. That falls away in the face of 'a little bit', but she has perspective enough to remember this is in terms of Azaylia's former life, so she leaves it alone. "Is she less so now that they're all flying?" As for Iolene, that sobers her a touch; uncertain, "She sounds fine. But doesn't look well. She didn't look all that well... before, either. I-- I hope she's being taken care of." Something about her expression isn't quite dubious or angry, but odd. Azaylia looks shocked, "Oh, I meant... when she's angry. Hraedhyth is never unkind." Even with all her new, rigorous schooling, the herder girl isn't gifted with a remarkable vocabulary. Though Brieli's teasing helps to ease her out of the fear of badmouthing her own dragon, eyeing her as suspiciously as she can. Which isn't very much. "That... has come up." Halted, but more curious than anything. There's a nod, flying has helped though the new problems surfacing from such an ability is pushed aside for now. For Iolene. "I can't imagine that- I mean, I thought for sure she'd stay in bed longer. It's good to hear that she's out and about..?" Her voice trails, picking up on Brieli's expression and adding it to her own, dubious concern. "Right?" "Oh, right. I'm sorry, I was just wondering if there was something or someone she didn't like." Brieli offers up a slight, reassuring smile - trying to look even more so when Azaylia starts looking suspicious. Even if it's just Azaylia-suspicious. Quick to explain, "I just heard that she's quite protective of Iesaryth. It's sweet. Iesaryth doesn't entirely understand, but she doesn't take it poorly. She knows what it means." More talk of the other young goldrider seems to make her mug feel heavy; she lets it thunk against the wood of the table, just above her hidework. "Io said she was feeling a little stir crazy. I feel a little badly for not visiting, but it was hard to tell... Anyway. It's good that she's out and about," she confirms, definite about that. "Her turnday is soon, I'd like to get her something. And... maybe she'd like more visits when she's not out. Apparently, the Weyrleader has been away a bit, she might like company when he's not around." Azaylia will furrow her brows, not out of anger but concentration until there's a jolt of realization. "Oh! No, no. Hraedhyth likes everyone, so far." There are no names named, and while her dragon's protective streak is all encompassing there have been recent flares of it. "She likes Vhaeryth fine." Oh-so warm, happy for both Brieli and the fact that she managed to 'solve' the mystery. "Thinks he's a little wimpy, though. She's also protective of some of the others, but Iesaryth the most." And though it should have her smile widening, the expression diminishes faintly on Azaylia's face at the change in subject. "I understand that." Feeling stir crazy, if nothing else. There's a sudden, determined set to her lips as fists find her hips, "He's been away?" Oh has he, now? Amused by Hraedhyth's assessment, Brieli doesn't offer any third-hand information in return; it's likely just as well. "I'm not sure if Iesaryth is offended, or just wonders why she needs to be protected. But like I said, it's sweet." Not a word that sounds entirely right coming from the weyrling, but she sounds sincere enough about it, sliding her mug aside to start working on her notes - or trying to look like she is, anyway. The conversation really doesn't allow for it. Glancing up to Azaylia, she notes, "From what I gathered when I was at the bar, and speaking to him the other night, he's had to spend some little time at High Reaches Hold with the Lord." She doesn't look all that pleased herself - but by the purse of her lips, she doesn't seem to have expected much in the first place. "Maybe because she's is so nice?" Azaylia tries, despite having just said that her own dragon is not mean. "It feels like Hreadhyth never has her guard down. It's not that Iesaryth is weak or anything, but super nice people get their feelings hurt a lot easier than some." Yes, a good chunk of that goes flying over her own head, so focused is she on the other gold. Pins and needles begin in her legs, and the young woman stands only after grabbing her empty cup. Any excuse not to go back to work, right? "He was at the bar?" She parrots back, and if the woman sounds a touch annoyed than it's just the strain of her legs. Right? Azaylia makes it to the semi-warm klah pot, tipping it to fill her mug as Brieli fills her in. "Hha!" Comes the sudden squeak, not burning herself though she very obviously poured the warm liquid over her hands. Missing the mug almost entirely. Suddenly panicked, she drops cup and pot back onto the tray, nearby rag serving it's purpose as she lowers herself to mop up the floor. "The Hold?" Another squeak, "With the Lord?" Trying not to look too entertained with how the other goldrider misses her possible commonalities with Iesaryth, Brieli agrees, twirling a pencil pulled from the folder, "I suppose that's true. I do feel somewhat like that about a few people." Very few. Grandly, "Of course! Seeing the people, listening, managing the gossip, ensuring it's all going the proper way. All the things that leaders do, drink in hand, smile on their face." After a moment, she has to admit, more seriously, "He does seem to be taking it hard. For all that h--" There's the sound of a rant starting there, but she bites her lips - and then stares over at Azaylia pouring klah all over herself, dropping things, panicking. Jumping up, "Are you all right? Yes - why are you dropping -- What happened?" Azaylia whimpers a, "Fine!" Uninjured at least, just startled and embarrassed as her head droops lower than her shoulders, hiding her face as best she with the absence of her long hair. There's a distracted murmur, "Leaders do that?" before she fall silent again and tries to get a hold of her thoughts. It does no one any good to assume, especially when her better half is not known for being discreet. "Myhandslipped." Comes out in a rush of air, mopping at the floor long after the spill has been cleaned up. To all High Reaches dragons, Hraedhyth bursts forth, desperate and panicked, that protective surge overwhelming those she manages to reach. She lashes at nothing and everything, hunting for the cause of the distress echoed within the beating of her drums. « WHO IS SODOMY?! WHY DOES HE DISTRESS HER SO? » All too sudden there's a clamp of a muzzle, cutting her off in mid-growl, fire ending in a surprised sizzle. Whisper-quiet, there's a hint of a reprimand before the flames flare back to life, suddenly well behaved within their hearth. « Nevermind. » There will be no explanation, attempts futile given that the young gold doesn't quite understand any of it herself. Not entirely convinced on that 'fine', Brieli heads over to right the pitcher and try to clean off the tray, fine brows drawn together in concern. "Are you sure, Azaylia? I..." She sets everything, all dripping, on a counter off to the side - then freezes. It's impossible not to be in on Hraedhyth's panicked shouting, even if her friend managed to squelch it in seconds - first, there might be a moment or two in which she tries not to laugh; then, once sobered, she turns to look at the other weyrling, wide-eyed. For a moment. Then skeptical. Low-voiced, but practical, "All right, let's say that makes sense in one case, but even though--" She moves back over to where the klah's been spilled, asking, "Why do you think... ?" Azaylia is concentrating awfully hard to have squashed the beginning of Hraedhyth's mental rampage, and it shows. Face scrunched up, she breathes only after the gold has dismissed her words in the minds of her people. And then, it's a gasp of an exhale at the effort. A glance up to Brieli, catching those wide eyes, making it obvious that she's heard. "I..." Lips try to form words, though not a sound comes out, not even after wetting them with nervous rolls of her tongue. "It doesn't make sense." She tries to agree, laughter somewhat panicked, sounding almost unhinged. "I just... It doesn't, does it? So it's nothing." Rag is left on the floor as her steps are easy, cool, drawing her closer to her notes. Expression now more than concerned, especially with that laughter, Brieli isn't sure what to say for several long moments - possibly a first! Finally, she'll agree verbally, at least, "It's nothing. Why don't you... go talk to Hraedhyth? I can bring your things back after dinner." She even moves slowly, over to Azaylia to touch her shoulder lightly; steer her out rather than towards her work. "Get some rest." And if there's more to talk about, that can happen later. Azaylia will continue that slow progress towards her things, sometimes facing Brieli, sometimes turned away. Completely natural, not in any hurry... at least that's what she's trying to convey. It's no wonder she gives a start when Brieli reaches out and touches her shoulder, "Oh!" Another squeak. She hasn't been this high pitched since her arrival to the weyr, but the weyrling is easy enough to steer towards the exit. "O-oh, thanks. No, really. Thank you Brieli." Relief washes over her face, though she's not slow about her retreat, calling back, "I'll go check up on her." Hraedhyth, who is one very confused not-so-little gold. Iesaryth might be trying to help, but there's only so much she can figure out. This is beyond her. Brieli waves Azaylia away, a little wide-eyed in her wake, shaking her head. Where'd THAT come from? |
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