Logs:Similies, Metaphors and Analogies
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| RL Date: 11 February, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Vienne |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Vienne inadvertently destroys K'del's good mood. This happens a lot, lately. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Brieli/Mentions |
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| Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr Polished marble and granite surfaces, gleaming metalwork and pale woods characterize the vaulted fastness of the kitchen. Several large hearths gape red-mouthed against the outer wall of the cavern, their fires almost always stoked for the constant cooking the Weyr requires to feed its denizens. Sinks line the wall to one side of the hearths, providing ample space to wash large quantities of dishes, while to the other, cabinetry and a deep pantry provide storage space for items commonly needed on a day-to-day basis. The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day. The weather outside is frightful... but it's comfortably warm and cozy in the kitchen, and not even too busy given the halfway-between-lunch-and-dinner hour. K'del has chosen an out-of-the-way spot in one of the alcoves, where he leans over a scrap of hide with his pen, snacking intermittently on pieces of pastry from the plate set beside him. He looks thoughtful, but not too intense, despite whatever it is he's working on. There's isn't generally much call for Vienne to be in here, but today? Today she peeks into the kitchen with a basket of crumbs in hand, asking if there's any more bread around to tide the hungry stragglers over between lunch and dinner. A scruffy cook takes the basket without really giving her an answer and while she waits awkwardly to see if there's one forthcoming, she notices the bronzerider hiding out. It's a glance, and then another. And since the scruffy basket-stealer doesn't seem to be giving her the time of day, she waits to see if she can catch K'del's eye to offer him a light smile. Evidently, part of writing whatever K'del is writing means glancing up every now and then to search the room - for inspiration? For distraction? It's during one of those sweeps that his gaze catches upon Vienne and her smile; his answer is a twisted smile of his own, and a slight tilt of the head. He mouths something, too, something that could be 'Hello' but... could possibly be something else, too, if she's not especially proficient and lip-reading. Eh, it's easier to read lips when you're paying attention and, though she does see his smile, the bluerider takes one more check on the cook and so she misses those silently mouthed words. But she does decide, whether there's going to be bread or not, to intrude on K'del's kitchen hidey hole. She slips into the seat across from him, hands below the table with her shoulders rounded, posture stealing height she really didn't have to spare. After a quick glance at whatever it is he's writing -- just a cursory look to see if it's list or graph or letter form -- she smiles at him again, something quiet and hopeful in it. "Hey." With Vienne in his sights, K'del seems reluctant to drop his gaze back towards his writing (which just goes to show how very exciting it must be), so it's probably a good thing that the bluerider comes his way. "Hello," he says, repeating himself, perhaps, but at least this time the message will get across. It's a letter that he's been working on, and whatever it says, he makes no move to cover it or put it away: nothing too private and personal, then. "How're you doing, Vienne?" Just seeing that it's a letter seems to be enough information to sate Vienne's curiosity, since she doesn't bother peeking for any more details, whether he leaves it all out in the open or not. But she cants her head, her eyes studying K'del's face, a bemused smile her only answer. "How are you?" she asks, the inflection more in the nip of her eyebrows and the pinch of her mouth than in the weight she gives that word. "Are things any better?" Obviously there's been no great leadership revelation, so she must be referring to something a little more internal. Having the question sent straight back at him results in K'del's smile twitching ruefully; he spreads his hands flat upon the table, and executes a studiously casual shrug. "My keel is more even, my branches less overhung, my-- there ought to be something rider-y in those. Something about eggs, probably, only that encourages thoughts I'm not sure I want." His answer seems truthful, at least on a superficial level - and having made it, he leans back against the bench behind him, studying Vienne levelly. "Sometimes it feels like I've talked and talked and talked until there's nothing that could possibly be unsaid still... but there's always more." She grins, a bright flash of teeth for his rambling metaphors. "Maybe just that you're... flying smoothly," she supplies. It's ridery without referencing anything too... pregnant. "You do seem a little better, maybe." She's encouraged, encouraging, even if she's not entirely convinced. "I think sometimes that happens when there's something you want to say but you haven't said it yet. Or you don't really know what it is. Like sifting around a bowl of stew for the last piece of beef. It's in there somewhere, you just have to turn up a lot of potatoes and carrots to find it." She cocks a brow at him and smirks, a volley in this game of metaphors and analogies. Vienne doesn't really stand behind her own rambling, though; she let out a quick, self-deprecating laugh and then regards K'del with that same level regard. "Does it feel better to talk?" "Oh, that one's better," puts in K'del, approvingly. He draws his hands together, twining fingers around each other and then flexing, though his gaze remains loosely focused upon the bluerider. "Like stew-- sure, that's as good a way to put it as any. Yes." Smile twitching, he seems pleased with that new analogy, though he doesn't - immediately - have any more to offer. "Sometimes it does. Eventually, it just starts feeling too much, like..." Here we go, "Like a shirt that's been washed and worn too many times. Everyone's seen it, and it doesn't even look as good anymore." Vienne seems to like it, this game they've settled into and now her expression teases him for his version with the shirt. "Oh really?" she laughs easily. "Or just a shirt you've worn too many times without washing, and it's comfortable but perhaps not the way you want everyone to see you? Too many wrinkles." She scrunches up her nose, teasing him. But after that, she lets out an exhale and mimics his pose, sitting back in the seat, at ease. "It surprises me that remember my name. Just old training, I guess? I feel like I should be 'that girl who was freezing'." She's grinning, though, amused that it isn't the case, and she adds in, "I think it got me sick, actually." The freezing. Nose wrinkling, K'del attempts an expression of deep, wholehearted offense, though he can't help his laugh. "What do you take me for, a teenage boy who can't be bothered to do his own laundry?" More serious is his follow up, made as he reaches to pick up another piece of his otherwise abandoned pastry, letting it hover just in front of his mouth so that he can actually talk. "Think I'd feel a little uncomfortable, baring my soul to someone whose name I can't even remember. In retrospect, anyway. Besides - yeah, found it was a good skill to have, when I was Weyrleader. People like feeling important enough to be remembered. You're better now, I hope?" He must assume she is, given there's no audible concern in his voice, and, well, she doesn't look it. The pastry gets popped into his mouth; he chews, swallows. "Maybe," she says, for his soul-baring. "Or maybe you just wanted a nameless, faceless someone." Only when he gets to the part about people feeling important, she arches an eyebrow at him, her grin spreads wryly. "So you're in the habit of remembering peoples' names just to flatter them, is that it?" His pastry, however, reminder her of her own hunt for bread and her glance slides off across the kitchen, looking to see if that scruffy man has done anything useful, though at the moment he's face the stove with his back toward them and no bread in sight. K'del's question draws her attention back. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a cold. I felt gross and now there's just a little cough that catches me off guard sometimes." Though these things cannot possibly be the cause of the thoughtful expression slipping onto her face. She doesn't explain what is. "That is not entirely what I meant," says K'del, grinning despite himself; evidently, he's not too concerned about it being taken the wrong way. He follows Vienne's gaze towards the kitchen worker, but instead of asking, gives her a quick nod. "Good; I'm glad. Guess winter at High Reaches can do that to you-- such a change from hot, dry Igen, I guess." It's hard to tell if he notices the expression on her face, or registers it as anything more than idle thoughtfulness. Certainly, he's next remark doesn't seem deliberately focused towards it. "You feeling any more settled? Maybe it'll help when we start having Candidates around, particularly out-Weyr ones: you won't be one of the newest faces anymore." Vienne must like his grin, since it seems to fuel her own a little, but she doesn't have all that much to say about being sick or having candidates around the Weyr. Instead, she'll just address her settling in. "I am, I think. Being stuck in my weyr for a few days, I got to reflect a little bit on what it's like here, what it was like at Igen." Which does bring a certain emptiness to her smile. "I think it's becoming... home. Even with the snow," tacked on for humor. The humor is short-lived, though, a question formulating behind her eyes. "Can I ask you something?" she proposes, voice a little more quiet. It's K'del's turn to look thoughtful, as she explains, his blue-eyed gaze narrowing, but not in a suspicious way. He exhales, rather as though he's letting the breath out when he'd really rather be talking; afterwards, he sucks his cheeks in, and nods. His reaction to the humor is an idle smile, and one that fades quickly enough "Of course you can," he says. "What is it?" "You mentioned... talking to Azaylia," Vienne recalls, a hand slipping up onto the table, palm placed flat as if to illustrate it as her starting point. She doesn't ask after that event, however. What she wonders is, "Is she your... preference? In all of this?" She doesn't let her glance cast sideways to see if anyone is listening, so perhaps she's not terribly worried about that, but her voice does remain low, just in case the topic is not one K'del is eager to explore with an audience. K'del gives a hesitant nod of confirmation for the statement that begins Vienne's question, his head stilling afterwards as he presses his twined hands against the table, sucking in a breath. If he's worried about being overheard, he shows no sign of it, in his answer: his voice doesn't change. In the end, he speaks quite plainly. "Brieli and I don't especially get along," he says. "I've no doubt that she's a capable woman, but I don't especially trust her. There's more to her than meets the eye; pretty sure there's a lot we don't know about her motivations. Yes, Azaylia would be my preference. She's still got to grow into her leadership capacity, but the potential is there." "You aren't the first person I've heard... talk about her like that. Brieli." Vienne presses her lips between her teeth, her gaze lingering on the table between their hands. "I'm not sure I understand what the fear is. But, I can't really say I know anything about her. Not everyone pours their heart out to strangers." She flashes him a smile, teasing but warm. Adjacent to the topic: "So, when you imagine Azaylia growing into the position, who do you imagine is guiding her?" Off to the side, scruffy man tries to catch Vienne's attention, holding a fresh basket of bread up for her to see. This time, K'del can't return that smile, and instead bites his lip, looking - for a second - deeply troubled. Evidently he's able to shake off that concern, because by the time he opens his mouth again, he sounds quite even and unbothered. Equally, however, he doesn't remark on Brieli. "In an ideal world, won't deny that I'd like to be there," he admits, openly. "Be lying if I implied otherwise. Realistically, though? Not sure having one person to guide is necessarily the best plan, either. Prefer she took guidance from a lot of people with different opinions, people she knew she could trust. Imagine she could even learn from Brieli." Though he sounds a little less certain of that. "Well, sure," Vienne is quick to agree. "In a truly ideal world," as opposed to K'del's own personal version that puts himself in the big chair. "There would be all the right kinds of people to guide her, experts, wise men, optimistic, soft-hearted voices and cautious, hardened voices, representatives from every corner who would make sure she always has all the information she needs at her fingertips. Wouldn't it be nice." Her tone is dry there, perhaps even cool, because that's just not the world she sees around them now. It's only a second later that she softens again, aware of the trouble that tried to claim him, the uncertainty still hanging around the edges. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I just... I heard some things and I'm not sure who I should talk to." She lets her own concern leak through an apologetic smile, and she finally does look over at the bread man just in time to see the basket heading back out to the living cavern. Vienne's cool dryness makes K'del's expression twist, rueful and more than a little sad, though he acknowledges her point in the way he dips his head forward. "No," he says, abruptly, and quietly firm. "No, you can ask anything you like, bring up anything you like. Can't always promise an answer, but I don't mind things being raised. Rather think about them than not." One of his hands finally disentangles itself from the other, and lifts to run through his short-cropped curls, a gesture he barely seems to be aware of. "Far as I know, they're still communicating," he says, as though there could possibly be a reason why they wouldn't be. "So either of them would be fine, I think. I mean, I would listen, but I don't know if I have any say in anything - any voice." Which doesn't mean he's not curious, given the way his gaze lingers. Hopefully the bread won't disappear too fast out in the living cavern, though there's something in Vienne's posture that suggests it's calling to her, a readiness in the way she holds herself. But her gaze is back on K'del, caught and following the unconscious hand he runs through his hair. For all his insistence that she can say whatever she likes, for all that she must see the hints of curiosity in his face, the bluerider just regards him silently for a long moment, only half-seeing him. "I'd rather think about things than not, too," she muses distantly, clearly thinking about something right now. But her attention sharpens again, focusing on him, and she sounds a little sorry when she says, "I think one of them is going to have to come out on top, K'del." K'del's front teeth come to rest on his lip, worrying at the parched skin there. He's silent for longer than he needs to be - silent long after Vienne has finished speaking. "Yes," he agrees, almost more a sigh than a word. "It was easier, before the flights; easy to be joint leaders. But that can't be sustained, now, not with Turns until the next flight, and factions, and-- just have to hope that the right one wins." It seems to make him desperately sad, sending his gaze towards his hand on the table, the mostly empty plate. The other hand drops back to join them, fingertips resting atop the back of his hand. Vienne's hand joins, too. She reaches across the little table to lay her palm across K'del's hands, head tipped to the side as she looks up at him. "Hey. However it ends up, that's how it could have been anyway if the flights had been just a little different. Even if it's not the outcome you want, it won't be the end of the world." She gives his hand a little squeeze and smiles gently. "High Reaches will survive. You'll survive." The way she looks at him searches for something. Surprise shows on K'del's face when Vienne's hand joins his, but he doesn't pull away from her - and more to the point, he lifts his gaze back towards hers, nodding. "Yeah," he agrees. "Know that. Know that... whatever I think of Brieli, she's not out to destroy the Weyr, not really. Pretty sure if she becomes Weyrwoman I'll be transferring out, but... that's fine. Really, as long as it gets sorted out one way or another..." But he still seems sad about it, and probably rueful for the sadness: he knows. "It's all ridiculous, and I care too much." Well that news does seem to effect the bluerider, pinching her mouth, drawing her brow. But she's hardly in a position to comment on his life choices or throw stones at someone for transferring to get away from their troubles. Vienne pulls in a long, deep breath and withdraws her hand. "I'm sorry to hear that. Sorry that it would be so... irreparable. I didn't realize things were so bad between you." Now it's her turn to chew at her lip, to let her eyes drop away from K'del to allow him some privacy for all that sadness. Conscious of Vienne's reaction, K'del attempts to laugh, as if to try and ease away his own emotions, and make light of it all. "Can't unmake dough after you've put those ingredients together," he says, in an unofficially light tone. "Never going to have flour and water and yeast again. So - well, that's how it goes, I guess. I'll be fine, one way or another." His analogy doesn't make direct sense, but clearly his thoughts are moving in other directions. His hands lift from the table, disappearing beneath it to rest-- on his legs? Somewhere out of sight, anyway. "Anyway. Good luck with passing your information on, to... whomever." There a bit of tension in her jaw, something she'd like to say, but Vienne lets that impulse pass without a word, and shes shift to the edge of her seat, ready to leave the bronzerider to his letter and whatever else he needs to do. "I'm sorry." Because when she got to the table it was all even keel and smooth flying, and now she seems to be leaving him sad and distracted. "I hope it all works out for you." Something else shows up, some other comment visible on her face, but she gets to her feet without sharing that one either. "I'm sorry, too." That, at least, is genuine, even if the tight-lipped smile that K'del offers with it is a little forced. "Have a good one, Vienne. I'll-- no doubt see you around." It's hard to know if he's catching the nuances of her expression; even if he is, he makes no effort to probe for more information. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Similies, Metaphors and Analogies"Brieli (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 12 Feb 2013 04:28:46 GMT.
I feel like this should come with ominous sound cues...
Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 12 Feb 2013 04:46:00 GMT.
Pretty sure if she becomes Weyrwoman I'll be transferring out, but... that's fine.
Oh no you won't! D: Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 12 Feb 2013 05:04:04 GMT.
I'm with Brieli. This was oddly ominous. ._. Still, Vienne's becoming my new favorite opinion-getter. :D
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