Logs:Quinlys of the Oomph
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| RL Date: 20 December, 2013 |
| Who: Quinlys, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi has spoken to Ghena. Now she needs to talk to Quinlys. |
| Where: Diving Cliff, HIgh Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 8, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: G'laer/Mentions, Ghena/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| Month eight in High Reaches is still summer, but the days are already cooling down a little: winter is coming. For natives like Quinlys, though, summer is summer - and that means making most of the season while it lasts. It's probably not really warm enough for the bikini the bluerider is wearing, not really, but she's draped on a towel in the morning sun nonetheless, soaking up what sun she can, while she can. Eyes closed, she's not visibly paying attention to much, though Olveraeth is a visible enough figure down in the lake down below, and it's perfectly possible dragon and rider are communing behind all those sets of eyelids. Telavi certainly makes no pretense of hiding her approach, still in the light clothes she'd gone jogging with Ghena-- and later the other weyrlings-- in, though some time has passed since then; she all but bounces up the slippery stairs, after having all but skipped across the lake's shore, and makes it to the cliff top with bright eyes and pink cheeks. "Quinlys," she calls, and her voice is bright too, though she waits to enlighten her boss until she's made it to the towel with an eye towards occupying a corner of it. Work has tracked Quinlys down. So much for having a day off, Telavi. Perhaps Quinlys should interrupt the greenrider's next rest day. One lazy eyelid flickers; one blue eye opens, slowly, followed inexorably by the other in due course. The bluerider stirs herself, rolling her body out of that reclining position and into a configuration that leaves more room for another, though that seems to be all the welcome she's willing to provide. "Telavi," she answers, not-quite-mockingly. "Why are you interrupting my rest?" As long as Quinlys doesn't interrupt with work... Telavi, who's made herself quite at home by kneeling on that corner with her boots just on the far side of the cloth, now says, "Because I can't live without you," and flutters her long lashes before continuing, "telling me what to do about the Ghena situation, now that I have quizzed her mercilessly. Or something." Telavi. Quinlys is about to say something, laughingly, before the greenrider continues post-eyelash fluttering, and she has to stop herself. It's much less fun, too. "What do you think you ought to do?" she prompts, in that age-old way of hers, no doubt 'borrowed' from Meara: when in doubt, encourage people towards their own answer. "And catch me up on the results of your quizzing." "Ask you," says Telavi promptly, with a gleam in her eye that suggests she knows that technique. But for the rest, she's happy to oblige; her rundown describes her having run Ghena down and what she'd learned, not only the ex-wife but the children and that they're to be fostered in the Weyr and how supposedly Ghena idolized her brother and was upset because there's all this stuff that he didn't tell Ghena about, and so Knioth cannonballed and splashed him 'because that's a really great way to impress people and make them like you when you aren't both thirteen or ten or something,' and he called her a 'stupid child' 'because that's a great way to get along too,' and so on and so forth. In the end, "Anyway, so by the time we got back into running it seemed like she was feeling better at least, less 'oh woe I did wrong! make me run laps! he is a bad man but I did wrong! because I showed my emotions! and I will write him off!' and so on," and thus concludes Telavi's unspeakably biased summation, wild emphases and all. A furrow forms in Quinlys' brow at mention of the children, and it does not relax as Telavi continues: if anything, it deepens. She's probably amused with this particular retelling of events, but it shows only in hints about the corner of her presently-not-at-all-smug mouth. Finally: "Siblings. Remind me, next time, that we are not having any siblings in our class, okay? Between those sisters," in Hraedhyth's clutch, "and now these two... Never again." She lifts one leg, now, but only so that she can stretch out her toes and give them an experimental wiggle: something to keep them occupied while she thinks. "You should talk to G'laer again," she says. "It seems like Ghena has a better grip on the situation, now; maybe talking to him will help him understand her perspective, too." "No siblings," Telavi is all too happy to agree. "Do you think we'll Search outside the caverns this time? I wonder if we'll see fistfights over which sibling gets a turn... or maybe we could take bribes," this with a distinctly dimpled smile. Take that, Quinlys and all that thinking. But when Quinlys gets to it... "Maybe. I hope so. Is anyone in trouble? Or should they be? I mean, he's the wingleader and he got pretty pissy, but her getting her dragon to drench him was just stupid, and like you said... siblings. Any 'words of wisdom'?" and she even air quotes that with crooked fingers. Quinlys shakes her head in time to answer that first question of Telavi's, though after that her head stills so that she can tap one finger thoughtfully to her mouth-- and then giggle, smugness returned. "Bribes, definitely. It's the only fair way, really. Why should the oldest get all the luck? Especially if they take forever to Impress." Like, say, G'laer. "I... as long as they're both aware of the ways in which they reacted poorly, it doesn't seem like they should be in trouble, in my opinion. Sibling flights aren't our jurisdiction, except that it upset their dragons. It's not like they beat each other up." She pauses, giving the greenrider a terribly thoughtful glance. "You know me well enough, surely. What kind of 'wisdom' do you think I'd be inclined to give you?" Okay, no, not so thoughtful: there's that smile again. Telavi demurs, all hand-to-heart demure-eyed her? Know Quinlys? Never! "I couldn't possibly guess. Not when it comes to weyrlings. But if I were to follow your example... I might ask them questions. And more questions. And then more questions." Quinlys' grin, now, is positively wicked. "Me? Ask questions? Surely not." Her foot drops back to the towel, as the bluerider turns: she's tipped her head back up towards the sun, back mostly flat upon the ground. "Ask questions, yes. Get G'laer to tell you what he did that he shouldn't have, and how he thinks he should deal with the situation. Ask him how he thinks we feel about the whole situation; where we stand. That kind of thing. He's older than the others, so maybe it'll work less well... but maybe not. He's not as smart and grown up as he thinks he is, sometimes. Definitely not as good with people as he could be." "But," Telavi begins, "don't we know what he did that he shouldn't have? Why rub it in? Or is the point to get him to say it? I," she hesitates, looking out over the lake before her gaze can't help but be drawn back to Quinlys. "It's still a little intimidating, every now and again, not as good with people or no. And it seems strange to ask how he thinks 'we' feel when you and I and everyone might feel differently from each other, and why should he say how he thinks I feel when, well, I'm right here. There. You know what I mean." Quinlys turns her head so that she can look at Telavi again, listening to her words with an expression that falls between serious and laid-back. "The point is to make sure that he knows," she confirms. "Sure, people can always tell you what they think you want to know, but more often than not, in my experience anyway, forcing them to tell you makes them think about it. If they don't get it, you can tell them, of course, but... get them thinking. That's key. It's... hm. It's hard to get out of our own viewpoint sometimes: we see what we see, and not what anyone else does. So the point is to try and break them out of that." "Mmm." Telavi's fingertips rattle on her knee, quicker by far than the big message drums but coded all the same. "'Forcing,' that's the hard part. I mean, I don't know if I could, if it came to that. You know? Not that I want it to, and normally people like to be persuaded and that works well enough... How did you do it, when you were newer at this, did anyone up and say no, he wouldn't do thatever it was?" Quinlys', "Mmm," comes a few seconds after Telavi finishes, acknowledging what she's said in a rueful kind of way. "Yes, of course. And... you're right, it's not a technique that works with everyone. Or for everyone. Sometimes you do have to turn it to 'I feel' and 'you did this', and that's fine. It was difficult, my first clutch. Difficult during your clutch, too, when I was co-Weyrlingmaster for the first time. It's... there's no easy way to just teach you how to have authority. You have to work it out for yourself. Especially hard with someone like G'laer, too, I know. But I believe you can handle it. I'd take over, if I didn't." Even on her rest day! Telavi's acknowledging in her turn, but silently, a nod here and there; she's rueful too, come to that. "I wish there were an easier way. I like persuasion... but it would be a lot more fun-- well, not fun," but she doesn't take time to hunt down a different word and pin it up for Quinlys, "if I didn't have to. Not that I have a great ambition to literally knock people over with my pinky finger like Jo or Alida or G'laer for that matter, but sometimes it would be nice to have more... oomph." Also, "I'm glad you would take over if it came to that; I don't want you to have to." Not on her rest day! Or any other. Silent for a few moments, Quinlys finally stirs herself in order to say, "Sometimes, though, it's not about the oomph. You know? There's power in being... understanding, and not officious or forceful or whatever. The kinder, gentler approach. Sometimes." She gives her assistant a bright smile, and adds, "I'm glad you don't want me to. Frankly, I can't think of anything worse right now. But... if it comes to that. You're doing well, though. Don't doubt that." Telavi can't help but smile at Quinlys: Quinlys saying that. Quinlys of the Oomph. "Sometimes!" she can agree readily enough. "Call it choices, then. And... thank you." She toys with the edge of the towel, aligning it where it had gotten rumpled. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? You know, before I venture off," into the wilderness, or possibly a wher's den, "and abandon you to your lovely, lovely sunning." Quinlys' eyelids are already fluttering closed again: the sun may not be strong, but the call to worship it certainly is. "Choices. Yes, that works. You're welcome, Tela. Just... remember that he may be older than you are, but you've more experience at this rider business, and you're one of his bosses. You don't have to come on strong, you don't have to remind him of that, necessarily, but... remember it for yourself. And then go and abandon me. I'll sulk all day. Don't think I won't! In this... lovely sun." "Yes, ma'am." At least, Telavi will try to remember it, though she also teases before she goes-- mostly teases-- "Don't get yourself burned." When a sweet young thing shows up later with a nice icy drink for the weyrlingmaster, there won't be any pretense of its not being courtesy of Tela. This! This is what becoming Weyrlingmaster was all about. Minions. |
Comments
Edyis (Edyis (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 17 Jan 2014 12:15:04 GMT.
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XD The weyrlings should be more wary of you two. Yes, yes they should.
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