Logs:Sleepless
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| RL Date: 28 June, 2015 |
| Who: Ebeny, Ka'ge, Laurienth, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ebeny takes a moment with one of new weyrlings to address his restlessness and agitation. |
| Where: Weyrling Complex, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
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>---< Weyrling Complex, Fort Weyr(#262RAJs$) >-------------------------------<
A tall entryway, large enough that even a reasonably-sized gold could pass
through, boasts sturdy double doors that can be closed against the
elements, though they often stand open to allow easy entrance to weyrlings
and dragonets when a clutch is in residence. Beyond the door, the stone
floor has been buffed to an even, smooth texture that almost shines, easy
for cleaning and able to stand the test of boots and claws alike.
Immediately inside, along one wall are rows of hooks for jackets, straps,
and racks for boots, while the other wall boasts a chalkboard for
announcements and duty assignments.
It's a well-lit room, with glow-baskets aplenty, providing a brightness
that will allow little to escape detection. The main area serves as a hub
and a casual meeting place, with comfortable sofas lined up along the back
wall. In one corner sits a table, upon which is an array of flasks,
containing klah, water, and fruit juice, as well as a basket containing
leftover baked goods. Beside this, a smaller chalkboard bears the name of
the weyrling whose responsibility it is to liaise with the Kitchen for the
fortnight. To the left lies the entryway to the Weyrling Barracks, with
the entrance to the Classroom opening up to the right and the
Weyrlingmaster's Office room standing at the back of the cavern. The days and nights since Hatching have gone by with more than the expected challenges; not the least of which is Ka'ge having difficulty sleeping surrounded by others in the barracks. It would find him wakeful more than not and more exhausted than appropriate during the hours at which the weyrlingmaster and her assistants would check on them. Their injuries would make the typical feeding and oiling a greater process than necessary, making both frustrated in the stark lack of efficiency it would afford. It would be in this that Ka'ge could be found at this hour, sitting on the hard stone floor next to Zymadiath with an oil can nearby. The process seems half-done and paused, and the young man himself is leaning back on one hand as the dark little dragon stares up at him. The furrowed lines on Ka'ge's face and the intensity with which the bronze is focused gives some denotation of what is likely an arguement. Laurienth's presence cannot be said to be a gentle one, but she has been as careful with these new charges as she is with the other, older weyrlings, and if her tone is not soft, she is, at least, attentive. The dark, angular green moves in from the bowl before her rider, a head-tilted look given young bronze and weyrling, before she settles herself down in one corner of the first chamber to watch (them) and listen for any of the others in the tangle of young voices. Because Laurienth has seen, so has Ebeny, and the Weyrlingmaster greets, "Ka'ge," almost before she's set eyes on him. "I was thinking," and she does make it sound like an idle thing, rather than a thought-through move, "that you might like to sleep in the sunroom today? It's got rugs and blankets and comfy furniture..." Smokey shadow covered head tilts away from his lifemate, angleing towards the adult green. Curious eyes are all the more curious within the hues of their facets, lit as they are against their dark backdrop. Zymadiath's shadows writhe and curl as his mind's touch attempts to narrow to Laurienth alone, a testing thing, yet confident in and of itself. Ka'ge's bluegreen eyes, harsh in the moment, turn upwards as the weyrlingmaster approaches. There's a faint grin there, pocketing whatever had been upsetting the pair not seconds before their arrival. "We're allowed to sleep somewhere else?" The aspect of disbelief is more prominent than sarcasm, thankfully, his question given slowly as if it may be a trick or bribe. "We haven't finished.." A sigh heaves his chest, annoyance in the weight of it, "anything." Zymadiath's testing earns him a low thrum of strings from somewhere in the dark maze that is Laurienth's mind. She doesn't let him in and down those winding paths, yet she does let him grasp a sense of who she is, all those pathways twisting and the flashes of too-bright, neon-hued light here and there. Her rider reaches a halt a few feet from Ka'ge, and regards him with her head tilted in a similar fashion to the green's first glance. "For day. Night. I know they're not so clear for you now." Ebeny gingerly flexes her shoulders. "For long enough for you to actually get some sleep and see your way to being on a better footing tomorrow," she elaborates. "It's not a reward." The hatchling bronze's mind is no pleasant thing, that darkness undulating amidst depictions of would-be figures to nothing at all before any clarity could come of them, but his curiosity would be sated to remain on the outskirts of Laurienth's mind. The sensation of greeting there but shrouded as if far off somewhere in his dark night. Ka'ge lets his attention fall to the oil canister, the paddle in his hand dropping back into it. As if he thinks to be giving up on the task, Zymadiath is not so allowing of it. "I- we- need it." His correction is a half-hearted one, "Even if one night." How long had it been since he'd slept well? "Useless." The boy notes under his breath at the task at hand, coming off his back hand to lean forwards, folding his legs beneath him. "This is endless. I can't even get where he itches the most under the bandage. What's the point." "I'm sure you /don't/ want to make an impression," no pun intended, says the wry quirk of Ebeny's lips, "as someone who gives up before they've really begun, hmm? Be patient. With yourself, as well as him. This is all new." Oh so very carefully, she eases herself down onto the floor and sits there cross-legged, though her posture is otherwise hunched, weighted by something that could be pain. "Itching, in healing, is usually a good sign, I'm told. It's unfortunate for you that itching is also /itching/ right now. When they change the bandages each day, they'll make sure that the hide isn't cracking too." She extends a careful hand towards Zymadiath, inviting, yet not demanding. "Mine, his. I can't even tell." He says in regards to the itchiness of healing. Ka'ge is worn too far by the combined annoyance and neediness and, well, everything, to provide the weyrlingmaster with his usual cocky undertones. In fact he seems resigned to be at least partially honest with Ebeny. A hand rubs the back of his head, hooded as helps with his comfort in what remains of the 'normal'. "I don't think he'd let me quit. I'm just," Tired, but the word doesn't come. There's pressure from an unspoken source that seems bolstering to his expression, forcing a lighter touch there, a short shrug of one shoulder in a lopsided gesture. "We'll be fine." The forced conclusion to that. As distracted as he is, though who can fault one so newly Impressed for being so?, he still doesn't miss much. It's questioning, the look that follows, but Ka'ge's sense of sympathy lacks or is simply absent. He couldn't have forgotten about the landslide, not with all the snowballing it caused, but he shows no recognition in regards to it. Zymadiath's head tilts down from focusing on Laurienth to her rider's hand extended. He lowers himself to the ground, crawling, creeping only a step or two towards the offered gesture, but never in contact of it. "Yes," Ebeny agrees, "you will be. Things are going to be difficult - for everyone, not just you. You're not even at the end of your first sevenday yet. You can't be expected to know or understand everything instantly, even about each other. But you are expected to try." She doesn't reach any further towards the young bronze, though she wiggles her fingers just a little, her focus on his rider, as if she hasn't noticed Zymadiath's creeping progress at all. Ka'ge's questioning look, the Weyrlingmaster only answers perhaps for purely practical purposes. "I ended up beneath that landslide at that hold. Laurienth lost it completely, I'm told. We're not always our best selves, any of us. I survived. So will you." Ka'ge's studious watch of the weyrlingmaster grows a faint edge of humor, maybe more inappropriately placed than anything. "I can do difficult." A beat, "We." The correction comes from beyond him, of course. Zymadiath's talons click softly against the stone, an almost scuttling-like noise, leaving his night-shaded muzzle inches from the wiggling fingers in youthful curiosity alone. Overly heavy wings almost drag beside him in how low he crawls, but right before he may lift to touch the offered fingers, he withdraws himself. The crawling, slithering, stalking process taking him back towards the oil can and its paddle resting within. Ka'ge, meanwhile, is listening to her example, her experience. And to it, he seems to have little to add, "It'll get done." 'It' seems to encompass everything, even in it's offhanded almost aloof way. The follow up may even be a deflection as he adds, "Have you ever had someone fall behind?" Ebeny does not seem to take offense that no contact is made, no complete answer to her silent greeting given, and she only drops her hand slowly back into her lap. "Yes," she states, without any hint of judgement, nor placement of fault or blame on any of those in that situation, or herself. "They caught up. Sooner or later. One way or another. Do any of us really have any other choice, when one of them finds us?" Her muddy-green gaze travels from bronze to shadowy, scarred green as she speaks, and then, more abruptly, as if she must gather momentum to move, she shoves herself to her feet. "Finish this," accompanies a gesture to the oil, "then go to the sunroom and sleep." It's phrased like an order, and though her tone suggests advice, there's still a command there in the lower notes. The young man's hand reaches for the paddle- lazily, slowly, with reluctance to return to the work of it is still there despite this talk. "No." Is a cool agreement that Ka'ge makes, the low, tired grin stretching into what may want to be his characteristic smirk. He leaves it at that, too, as Zymadiath consents to turning to make more available the remaining dry, irritated hide along his hind legs and tail. He leans back on that one arm again, and there's a tipping of the paddle some inches too high, dripping the oil on the bronze as they were told day one not to do, but fortunately it wouldn't stay that way. The brush would come in its time. Lost in thought, too-long a moment passes before the growingly apathetic boy adds, "And thanks." For her offer, for her words or both, he wouldn't clarify but at least it goes said. As Laurienth rises to slip through to the barracks proper, Ebeny begins to move in another direction, towards her office. Only a nod acknowledges Ka'ge's thanks, and, just as she's about to disappear from sight, much like her green, she stops and turns to call over one shoulder, "Throw in a couple of 'ma'ams' next time, hmm? Best to cultivate the habit now..." She doesn't linger any longer than that, nor does she press the point. |
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