Logs:Sibling Bonding and Button Pressing
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 8 December, 2013 |
| Who: Ghena, Knioth, G'laer, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ghena stages an intervention for G'laer, not in so many words. It doesn't go well. And then it goes worse. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 6, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Klohi/Mentions, Raleri/Mentions |
| |
| Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.
Teisyth did get the message. And in fact, faithfully relayed it. But, it's just that there are so many things between the barracks and the lake that can distract a young and obscenely curious dragon like Teisyth. Especially since things look so different in the dark with the way her bejeweled eyes work. Besides, everything is new and exciting now that she's big enough that G'laer can ride on her neck, which he's doing, rather than chance a twisted ankle or some such in the evening dim. But late though they are, they come. Teisyth's greeting to Knioth is a boisterous trumpet-honk, far too loud for the solitude of the lake shore at night, and a cheery, « Howdy, Knioth! » She draws up near where Ghena is settled, and G'laer shifts, carefully swinging down from the green's neck and to the ground. "Ghena." It's his usual warm greeting, of course, complete with lack of smile and simple acknowledgment. Ghena does not, to her credit, giggle at the look of her brother astride a third of the way grown dragon. She looks even sillier mounting and dismounting. "G'laer." She returns his taciturn greeting with her own, though there's a big grin. "So glad I could tear you away from, well whatever it is you do these days." Knioth rumbles quietly to the green, « Good evening Teisyth. » It's true that a human on anything less than a fully grown dragon does look a little odd, but even Teisyth's size isn't something obscenely small by comparison. Long gone are the days when G'laer could carry her about, now that she's taller than he at the shoulder and one and a half times his height in length. Ever-nearer are the days when they will fly together. Less than a month hence, says the buzz in the barracks! But credit where credit is due. 'Whatever it is he does these days' is met with a raise of a single brow. "Well, there are the tea parties and the fashion lessons and the--" His baritone is quite serious, even if the words simply cannot be. The reason for the joke is likely that his schedule is much the same as hers, even if he's not often found about in leisure time, except, of course, for study dates. "Well, clearly I've a busy social schedule to keep. What can I do for you?" Knioth's more sedate response doesn't seem to coax Teisyth into any similar behavior as she trots to the edge of the lake and then right in without any hesitation. « Sure is perdy tonight, » the warm air, the night sky, all of it together. Pretty. Ghena nods, "Yeah, I guess both of us ended up in leadership track, and I know you don't make as much time for leisure as you probably should. I guess this is the result of your tutoring evidenced." A breath, "You should make time for it you know. Relaxing, maybe both of us together should. Now that we aren't completely separated from the weyr at large that is." Knioth rumbles back to his little green sister, « The sky is a fire tonight. Tis true. » Ghena seems different than when they first began this journey through weyrling hood. As Knioth has filled out in muscle, so has she, no longer looking scrawny but wiry instead with lean muscle forming well under the extra physical work the pair has put in. "I'm kinda worried about you holding yourself separate from the rest of us." She admits at last. "Leadership is in the decisions you make and those that follow you. Silver Threads..." G'laer stops to consider, "Seems to me that it's more like an advanced studies course in dragonriding. More information available to you, sneak peeks at what Wingleader meetings are like, a little more access to those currently in leadership positions in the Weyr," He shrugs his shoulders. Maybe he's seeing it wrong, or maybe he's just taking away different lessons than the rest. "I can't do the things I do to relax here." He glances toward his lifemate, "Can't leave here to do them." It doesn't seem to bother him overly, though. "Did you have something particular in mind?" Of relaxing together. Of his keeping himself separate, he frowns, but doesn't speak on the subject. Ghena notices that he keeps silent on it, but if he doesn't want to talk, she can't force him. "Sneak peeks yes, but..." She frowns, Ghena was never good at the caring sister bit, it was always easier to whine and complain 'till she got what she wanted. Now - Knioth kept her too exhausted to really whine effectively. Frowning at the comments he makes for relaxing she shakes her head. "Up until you started tutoring me and we were weyrlings together we were as good as strangers - not that you didn't visit you've told me you had your reasons, I accept that now. I only mean that I don't even know what interests you anymore, and you never really share what you're thinking. The weyr isn't the guard. We have to be able to rely on each other and not just our own strengths you know?" Knioth was really starting to rub off on her. "Most of what I'm thinking isn't exactly--" G'laer starts and then has to stop to sort the right words, the exact right words, "-fit for public consumption." He settles on. "I'm a private person, Ghen. It's not easy for me to say a lot of things." He reaches up a hand and pushes it through his short-shorn locks, and briefly he looks frustrated, the expression flickering on and off his face so fast that an ill-timed blink would cause it to be missed. "It's hard for me. To relate to all of you." You, the other weyrlings. His hand falls to his side. "Think about it this way, for a moment. If you were a weyrling with Raleri," Their youngest sister, who's only five turns old, "How much would you be able to have in common with her without ending up patronizing or otherwise obnoxious?" "Comparing a 5 turn old with those closer to 16 turns is not really comparing redfruit to rindfruit G'laer." She remarks coolly. "Fit for public consumption or not, you can't be an island in a Weyr. Dragons are social creatures and the people who ride with them must also be so." The clipboard gets a cursory glance, "You belong here now, surely you feel that." Then again, perhaps this was why they limited impression age to 25, not because the dragons didn't care for older riders, but. perhaps because older riders couldn't adapt. She dismissed the thought. Couldn't he see that inability to adapt to younger riders might affect his placement in the future? Who could say. "I wish you would at least talk to me some more, not just about lessons - I may be obscenely young on your count but at least I'm family." Maybe that approach was better. "Ghena, I'm turning twenty-eight in less than a seven. We have twelve turns between us, and I've similar turn differences with almost everyone else in the class." G'laer states all of this matter-of-factly. "I'm not saying that it's always like you relating to Rali, but sometimes it is. I work with the weyrlings like I would with any of the trainees or new guard back at Crom. But it doesn't mean I'm going to cozy up with any of them. I don't do cozy." If he does, there's never been evidence of it. "And." There's more. "I can count my friends on one hand. I don't really do friendships either." So at least it doesn't seem to be anything personal toward the weyrlings on the whole. But that doesn't mean he's not trying, "What do you want me to talk to you about?" The bluerider runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. "Yeah no, this approach doesn't seem to be working at all." She calls out to Knioth. « Yes my squire. » He's up, in the air over the lake and then. Wings tucked. Yeah, unless there is running and his victims escape? Talk about water in your boots. If forcibly prying her brother's shell open wasn't going to work, she just had to resort to other less mature tactics. Briefly, G'laer's expression shows his own frustration. "What's not working about it? I'm asking you a question. If you can't tell me what you want me to talk to you about, I don't know what to talk to you about. It's stupid to expect me to know how to give you what you want when you don't even seem to know what that is." There's bite to his tone and annoyance. "Shells, you think with ten sisters I'd be better with women." Because clearly this whole wanting something and not being able to articulate what that is or not knowing what that is is a 'woman issue.' Ghena just rolls her eyes at him. He just doesn't have people skills, and it's not working. "If you have to ask me what to talk about, it defeats the whole purpose of trying to get to know each other again." A beat, two wing beats, then SPLASH! The blue hits the water sending a wave at the party. Ghena isn't able to avoid it, and is dripping wet with a half cocked grin. "Well if talk doesn't work I will resort to infantile methods." In the split second between the lack of wing beats and the splash, G'laer shifts so his back takes the brunt of the water. Situational awareness for the win! Still, he's wet. And not once in the whole thing is there even the faintest hint of a smile. "Infantile. Good choice of adjective." His expression is stern. "Remember when I said that it isn't always like relating to Raleri? Right now, you might as well be her." It's probably a testament to how weak their relationship is that he doesn't even bother to sound disappointed in her. It's just a flat delivery of the facts as he sees them. The conversation is effectively terminated on that note as G'laer doesn't wait for an answer, or for Teisyth as he turns and starts striding back toward the barracks. Ghena frowns, watching him turn. "You know, I remember a time when you weren't too old to play with your baby sisters." Knioth supplies the shared memory to Teisyth, one of a much much smaller Ghena (how she was so small Knioth cannot possibly conceive) being chased with her other siblings by a younger G'laer. And how the little ones who couldn't quite pronounce the mouthful of his name before impression called him Grr. She remains on her rock, and the blue stays in the water. Life wasn't all work, but if he'd forgotten that, well it was his problem and not hers. That evokes a reaction. An emotional one. When G'laer spins back and stalks toward his sister, his expression is suddenly one of dark fury and Teisyth is galloping out of the water, aiming for a spot that will position her between the siblings. "You are not a baby anymore, Ghena! That life is gone. You are a rider in training. You left your childhood behind on those sharding sands. This is not a game. Riding carries risk and responsibility, and the world needs good riders, not lazy, idiot girls who profess wanting to form stronger bonds and somehow think that childish pranks are the way to cultivate those. I don't need to grow younger, Ghena, you need to grow up. Grow up and deserve him." He points to the blue. Now, Teisyth's head is against his chest and pushing him back away from the still slow advance he was making on the smaller girl. Even Teisyth feels fear in this moment. Fear of the fury. Fear of what G'laer might do unchecked. Knioth in his infinite wisdom remains back, only closing on the group at a distance when the peasant seems keen to suggest that his rider does not deserve him. She was his choice of the first shells to crack, and the first four to impress. That was how worthy he felt she was, that he had determined (though Quinzenth and Lythronath did manage also escape around the same time.) That he would have his first. The low menacing rumble in his throat quiets, eyes whirring yellow and red. Ghena? She scrambles up to stand on the rock, though perhaps only Knioth can feel or express the rush of rage. Her expression is one of frozen detachment, no doubt learned from her brother. "I see. So you feel no one is your equal. You who barely managed to impress by the skin of your teeth. There is more to life as a rider than drills and responsibility. You haven't paid attention I suppose to notice that I've not been shirking even one." What had been a warm attempt at sibling affection, has certainly gone completely awry. "Not everyone has to leave every part of the childhood at the door G'laer. That's something that only the guard does to people." Knioth settling as his rider moves to mount, with surprising agility given her usual awkwardness. "Thank you for the lessons. It's been quite educational." "If that is what you take away from my behavior, then you really are an idiot." G'laer retorts, the flexation of his muscles showing that Teisyth's really having to put neck into it to keep him from resuming his advance. "Your attitude is going to get one of us killed if you keep it up. Collision in the sky, or sharing the wrong visual and betweening us into a mountain. There is not more to life as a rider than drills and responsibility. There is more to life, but as a rider, you need to conduct yourself as an adult." Because, you know, this seething, spittle-flying version of G'laer looks sooooo grown up. There's a vein pulsing visibly in his neck and others popped on his temples. If she wanted him to be warm-blooded, well, he's gone from cold to boiling with no stop in between. "If you want to be a disgrace to riderhood, then fine. But I'll have no part of your shenanigans and stupidity." Teisyth's eyes are whirling fast with her concern. Silently she reaches for help. In the meantime, her push becomes a shove and G'laer (because who can resist dragon-strength, no matter how strong?) falls back onto his back and the green hunkers down on top of him. He can't kill his sister if he's got a green dragon sitting on him. It's sound logic. Ghena doesn't stay to listen to the rants. Which is sad, because it may actually be a sign of her own maturity that she doesn't throw barbs back at her brother. "Come on Knioth, I promise he won't taste any good." « Peasant. » The blue snorts, though aimed more for retransmission than at poor Teisyth who probably has more sense than anyone at the moment. A few leaps and the pair is gone. |
Leave A Comment