Logs:Strings Attached
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| RL Date: 1 May, 2013 |
| Who: C'wlin, D'kan |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The month's leadership changeover. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 9, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy. |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, N'hax/Mentions |
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| 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.
D'kan doesn't have to wait long. C'wlin's arrival comes on the heels of that small sip, the pale hair damp around his scalp as if just coming from a bath or a swim in the lake. Perfectly attired, perfectly groomed, the boy could be a walking poster child for harper perfection. "D'kan," light tenor greets, hesitation briefly enacted when espying the mug but rather than go back, the bronzerider continues forward. There might be klah-envy. "Hey," D'kan replies quietly while sitting up properly. Perhaps the klah-envy will be lessened as the brownrider sets the mug aside again. "Thanks for meeting with me. Know it's early. Just figured we could get the business end of things done before the day ramps up." He smiles briefly at C'wlin, then picks up the stack of hides in front of him, which is then held out for the bronzerider. "Congratulations, new wingleader. You've earned some new hidework." Lip curls slightly, a sardonic cast set to entitled, spoilt-boy features. "Lucky me," C'wlin murmurs, taking the hides from D'kan. For his clutchmate, the expression eases to something more amiable. "Was it difficult to herd the felines that are our clutchmates?" Brow quirks while fingers rifle through the hides, glancing at the exposed top lines of whatever's written. "See, this is what wingseconds are for," he might be joking, "for the hidework." Delegate, delegate, delegate! "Some of them," D'kan answers quite honestly, though it's followed by a quiet laugh. "It's all in there, actually. My notes. Well... observations, mostly. Just thought I may as well pass them on, for what they're worth." He leans back in the chair and picks up the mug of klah again to take another sip. "I know the weyrlingmasters will probably run through stuff with you and N'hax, if they haven't already, but figured..." D'kan trails off, then shrugs before giving the haughty one another smile. "Felt like a month wasted if I didn't pass stuff on. You're right about wingseconds, though in the end, the benefits and the drawbacks end up on your shoulders, not his." "Oh, I'm grateful," lest D'kan doubt, for C'wlin does like to be informed, nimble fingers rifling through the hides. "I'm sure. One rises and falls on the shoulders of one's subordinates -- but, well, I guess we'll see what happens now, eh?" He lifts his gaze, humor causing a glint to icy eyes. "I'm sure we'll be spoken to," now the bronzerider takes a seat, balancing the hides upon crossed legs. Back to klah-envy. "But it's only for, what, a month? And then it goes to the next poor sucker." Cue the snicker, since he is -- currently -- the poor sucker. "Pretty much," D'kan agrees as he moves the pastry plate to his lap. "It's a little weird... hard to take it seriously. At the same time, folks are watching you. Watching us. People who matter. Or who will." He rolls one shoulder in a half shrug and sets the mug aside so he can focus on the pastry. "It's interesting, too, knowing the terms of your leadership. Doesn't work that way after weyrlinghood, does it?" "Who cares if they're watching?" C'wlin's gaze lands, direct. "What are they going to do? Take away our dragons?" A slight smirk curls up the corner of his mouth, a sly, sly look coming over sharp features. "It's weyrlinghood. If we survive knowing how to care for our dragons, ensure we're safe to fly, and won't burn down the weyr with firestone, what happens now has little affect on what happens in the future." Beat. "Or, rather, I should say what we choose to make of ourselves in this time has a lot to say about the future. Potentially. Just look at Bri--" Sorry, Aishani, Brieli still hops to the top of the tongue! "--Aishani. Look at how far she's come and her roots were not exactly kosher. So, eh, not really worried about it." Oh how the Athimeroth's penchant for anarchy has infiltrated C'wlin. "Hey, for a month I just might eat a better breakfast. I sure hope you took advantage of that. Rank's got it's perks, anyway." "This, coming from the boy who would be Masterharper?" D'kan asks in a drawling, amused voice as he tears off a piece of pastry and pops it in his mouth. A moment later, bite gone, he looks away from the nighthearth for a moment. "You think the other wingleaders, the real ones, aren't already watching, talking about who's bringing which weyrling into their wings? Think that wing assignment won't matter someday? Coast? Go for it." He returns his attention to his breakfast. "Sure, nothing's permanent. Except the dragons. But even there..." D'kan trails off again, then glances at C'wlin. "Well, as long as there aren't any unfortunate accidents, they're permanent, I guess. All the more reason to pay attention." "I would have been masterharper," C'wlin comments, though his tone lacks the heated conviction it once did. Athimeroth's changes already wrought for a boy whose destiny was more than mere harper. "I don't aspire nor desire rank, D'kan. I would have more than rank." That mysterious comment is left unexplained. "Well, for now, anyway." C'wlin would be king of all High Reaches if he could; a permanence that Weyrleader just doesn't give! "C'mon. I've a hankering for Klah, and I want to hear what the others have been up to." That's right, it's time for bromance bro-gossips. Hopping up, the young rider strides towards the kitchens. D'kan's totally following, right?? He is indeed. D'kan's soft laugh is of nothing but amusement, having gotten used to both Ceawlin before impression, and the C'wlin after. "Rank does come with quite a few strings attached, doesn't it?" he asks as he gets to his feet. He grabs his plate and mug and starts to follow the other rider. "Makes me wonder sometimes if maybe Azaylia isn't the smarter of the two weyrwomen." It's said with a quick grin, soon followed by a raised mug at one of the other early-riser weyrlings. The one-time and new-time wingleaders continue their discussion, their words soon fading. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Strings Attached"Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 02 May 2013 00:01:55 GMT.
Ha! It seems like Athimeroth has really sunk his claws into C'wlin. Curiouser and curiouser~
I'm partly sad to see D'kan have to give up the title of weyrling wingleader. It seems like he was really good at it! ^-^ I'm interested to see what both do with their newly gained/lost responsibilities.
Ceawlin (Ceawlin (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 02 May 2013 04:02:33 GMT.
D'kan is!! Part of the reason why C'wlin gravitates to him -- he's just got this air about him!
I really, really need to do a vignette! Especially after missing that week/week and a half to go home.
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