Logs:The Right Path
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| RL Date: 23 June, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Faryn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh has a job for Faryn. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Lycinea/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions |
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| It would be likely that someone who chooses to stay at High Reaches would adapt better to the cold than Faryn has. That she's not a fan is no secret, and that she bundles up and seeks out warmth wherever and whenever she can find it isn't either. On days like this, overcast skies and low, settled cold amidst the fog, most of the weyrfolk seem to agree with her course of action. Which is why she's actually not in the Nighthearth, or the living caverns, or even the Snowasis. The greenhouse is the place people overlook in its consistent temperance. Maybe it's the muggy contrast to the outside that does it, or the earthy smell of it compared with the atmospheric smell that follows the storms. Regardless, Faryn knows where to go, and doesn't seem to mind the differences; she's settled inside on one of the benches, her legs stretched out on it so she can occupy it fully. She's got a deck of cards in her hands, and is moving them through her fingers in false cuts with a smooth adroitness while she gazes up through the skylight, at the grey clouds above. The combination of warm, humid interior and earth-scented air is enough to draw one grumpy, dissatisfied goldrider from her lair. Farieh slips into the greenhouse without sound and pulls off the knitted cap on her head, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket. She ambles down the path, looking lost in her own world; her brow furrowed, her eyes grazing the various plants and flowers without actually seeing them. "Faryn," is a greeting, mingled with surprise, when she spots the other girl elegantly stretched across the bench and comes to a stop in the aisle. "Did you-- want privacy?" Faryn's finger slips and she almost loses half the deck at the sound of her name, her gaze turning sharply from the task at hand to the source of sound, even as her fingers adjust so that the cards don't fall, though they jut out awkwardly. "Oh," she says, sounding fairly pleased to see her, "Farideh. No. Well. Yes, sort of. More privacy than anywhere else, at least." She rearranges the cards as she sits up properly, setting the deck beside her. "Did you?" When Faryn moves her feet, Farideh takes it upon herself to take a seat on the other side of the bench, sliding her hands down her legs and over her knees. "It doesn't matter." Her feet slide out next, her legs stretching in front of her. "Privacy is for holders and old people," she adds, wryly, and slants the other girl a look out of the corner of her eyes. "How have you been? It's been-- a while. You're probably laughing on the inside now, glad of it that you didn't Impress. No lessons for you, early morning wakeup calls, or awkward mating flight lectures from Quinlys." Faryn seems a little surprised, taking the deck back just so there is plenty of space without risk of them falling through the slats as she says, "It's for all people. You'll go crazy, without a little privacy now and then." Her words are gently probing, but not quite inquiry; it wouldn't be rude to not answer the context. The same doesn't stand for Farideh's more direct question, and Faryn's answer is meandering. "I'm good. Again. Finally. For the most part. You're never one-hundred-percent, I don't think. There's always niggling, but." A shrug to dismiss it. "I wouldn't say I'm laughing inside," the herder corrects, her hands moving again -- cutting once, twice, until she's got an intricate little fan between her thumb and each of her fingertips. "Though the fact that more than one of you thinks I should be is telling." Farideh watches Faryn deftly shuffle the cards, her own hands sliding snuggly between her legs and the bench slats. "Do you think you'll stand again? I know you were-- undecided to stand this last time." She looks up at the herder again, studying her face. "It's harder than I thought it would be. No one likes to wake up early, and the exercises have gotten easier. I look forward to them most days. It's the rest-- the lessons, the studying, the extra duties." Her shoulders lift and fall. "But you get the dragons, which--we're learning about mating flights now, so it's not as grand as it once seemed." "I think you see why I was undecided," Faryn says softly. There's a fanning sound as the cards are bent just so, to fold into one another. It makes for an interesting, if brief, effect. "My mum, she - shit, I don't know if I've ever seen anyone so unhappy in their life, and now you and everyone with your little horror stories about how it's hard, how it's a mess? Before this, it was the only thing you could imagine to do, and now it's maybe too much?" Her chuckle is throaty and without mirth. "They get you by springing it on you, don't they? It's a limited offer, a chance with a short window, and if you take too long thinking, you miss out. Or, you spend not enough time thinking, and you're -- well." She gestures a little to encompass Farideh. "Seems you all hm have been trying to find the grandness for a while. Long before I left, even. Are the mating flights just the final straw?" A shrug says the question is mostly rhetorical, and her tone says she's not being judgemental. And notably, she hasn't answered the question posed to her. "In all fairness," Farideh begins, "everyone seems to level out to grow into it. A lot of people couldn't think of doing anything else. I'm sure we'll all adjust." She pulls her feet in again, crossing them under the bench. "Mating flights are hardly, but it's another aspect. It's not enough with all of this, there's the added that. I'm sure some of them are looking forward to the freedom of flights, but I think you can imagine why it's not-- I'd rather not think about." Pursing her lips, she turns her face to investigate one of the overgrown vines hanging nearby the bench. "One day, we'll all look back on this time, and laugh. Do you want to be one of the people who laugh or one of the people who regret that they didn't, I guess." "Won't she rise less? Than, say, a green?" Faryn's maybe looking for some consolation there, even if Farideh just said she didn't want to think about it. At least she refrained from saying anything terribly rude. "It's...eh." Faryn doesn't seem to really like what that aspect might entail either, and let's it alone for, "I already decided to Stand," she offers, wry. "But the point is it took me almost a turn to inform that decision. And it's still driven by -- that green at Fort? And wanting to feel a part of things, the way you are." With a definite movement the card is a deck again, and this time put away into the leather pouch that was crafted for them. "I'll only have one more chance, anyways. I'd regret it, if I left. But at least you'll all have forged the path for me. Maybe it'll be easier, knowing how easy it's not." "No, Roszadyth won't rise as often, but you know that goldflights are a lot worse, especially the next one," holds some significance, some gloom-and-doom rolled up in pretty words. "Those are good reasons, but it probably makes it better if you do it for you, if you know what you're getting yourself into." Farideh turns her head back in time to watch Faryn picks up her cards. "You watched your mother, you've watched us -- you have more of a head start than the rest of us." "So many bronzeriders," is said with such awed darkness that it's worth double-checking if she's serious. Not that it will be easy, because she's still smirking a little. "It is for me, Farideh. It's for my peace of mind and my sanity and...making sure I've tried the paths. It's who I am, to think about...the repercussions of my actions. Who they effect, how people will feel about them, how that will make me feel." Faryn stares at a crack on the ground between her boots, head bobbing a little bit as she thinks. "I'm not trying to say...it's just. It seems like the people who were the most independent are the most dissatisfied now. They have the most, what did you say? Leveling out? Leveling out to do. How can you be independent and self-sufficient when you're entire duties are to others?" A small sigh escapes Farideh's parted lips as she leans back, shoulders pressing into the back of the bench. "I don't have any of the answers, Faryn. If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly exceling. I've been grounded twice and I haven't even graduated. I've pissed off another Weyr's weyrwoman. I've made multiple public mishaps. Anyone who is stupid enough to want me wearing that Weyrwoman's knot only wants it so an Igen weyrwoman doesn't have it." Her mouth slants ruefully. "All I know is that most people become well-adjusted over time, otherwise we'd have a Weyr full of pissed off riders instead of drunk, ill-mannered ones, and there's no sense in trying to hash out every tiny detail of the plan. If I hadn't Impressed, where would I have been? Washing socks? Married and pregnant? Living in the lap of luxury? There's no telling and the same goes for you -- you have to make a decision, regardless. For better or for worse. I'm trying to understand that it isn't a finite thing, these feelings." Faryn is silent in the wake of that, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, looking at Farideh with what might be some brand of sympathy. "You made my point," she says, dryly. "You can't be. It's working across purposes. You can be independent, but you can't be independent enough to satisfy yourself." She huffs, a sigh, or maybe a laugh that doesn't get the momentum it needs. "I'm not trying to predict the future. I've made my decision, and I know why I'm doing it. It's just different than yours was. If it fails, well..." She shrugs once, shakes her head. "There are other paths." That makes two of them falling into silence, with Farideh heaving another whispery sigh after a time. "What are your other options? The Hall? Tending to the runners here?" she asks, curiously. "The Hall," allows Faryn. "The weyr, if they can find use of me, if I leave the hall. Preferably not with the runners or the herds, but needs must. There's this holding I visited that - well. They might have a position, depending on things. Or Bitra or Keroon. If I'm going to go all selfish and independent, might as well be completely irresponsible too." "If that's your rationality, you might as well get irresponsible friends with the status and means to lead you into a frivolous lifestyle," Farideh says, humor imbuing her voice. "Brunch at Bitra and gambling after, a masquerade at Keroon, and ending your night with your feet in the sand of the southern continent. Not everyone can handle it, but if you're really looking to go all out--" Her lips curve into a smile, and then she tips her head towards Faryn. "Nothing with the runners or herd here? What would you do? Fill my spot at the pools, washing the Weyr's dirty sheets?" "Do you have references?" Faryn wants to know, faux-earnest. "It sounds like a day I could get on board with, though. You had me at brunch, because brunch means I've slept in past dawn." She doesn't sound like the waking up is the hardest part. "I don't know," she admits. "I could stay in the stables, but that doesn't make a change. I'd leave, if I had to. You're thinking too far ahead." "Am I really? You're here now, and you could start now, setting yourself up for the right path and the right lifestyle," Farideh replies, emphasizing her words not just with tone, but with minute expression changes, from widening eyes to rounded lips. "Wouldn't that be a novel idea?" It seems like such an obvious solution that Faryn's cheeks turn a little red to have not thought of it. Maybe there are just too many things to think about; something had to fall through the cracks. Her smile slow. "I'm sorry." She's not. "Are you making a suggestion?" The sidelong look Farideh gives Faryn is anything but obtuse. "You ought to give it some thought," she starts. "One of these days, I might be looking for an assistant. One of these days, I might need someone who's more focused than I am and ten times as responsible, to help me get through this-- everything. It wouldn't be a bad start, until you can get wings of your own, and we could do all of that and more, besides the-actual work." Her lips twitch a few times, but she seems to be serious, watching Faryn for her reaction. "It's something more than the runners' keeper, until--" Faryn's smile is slow across her lips, her eyes slightly wary, like she's waiting for Farideh to shout gotcha! When she doesn't, the herder takes a slow breath, exhales it through her nose, her brow wrinkling while she considers the situation. She takes issue with the wording -- "If, not when," is the correction there -- but otherwise seems to be mulling over it seriously, not entirely displeased with what's being proposed. "That," she says eventually, "could work. Just until there's another clutch. Or someone slightly less insane comes along to offer me better." The barb is a light tease. "If you think it would work." "Just until there's another clutch," Farideh affirms with a sharp nod of her head. "I would need someone I could trust and someone who wouldn't be scared to-- tell me how it is. Sharp, speaks her mind but only when it's appropriate. I already have enough problems keeping my mouth closed. I don't need to worry about someone else's." She pauses, lips pursing, before she continues. "Someone who would be easy to talk and whose company I would enjoy-- whether that's meetings with Irianke all day, or partying our way through the continent. Honestly, I'd thought I didn't want one. Irianke has Lycinea, or had, and the other weyrwomen before us had them too. It's always seemed like such a pain, to have someone following you around, but I've come to the realization recently that I shouldn't-- can't-- be left to my own devices." "You'll be able to be left to your devices, eventually," Faryn says, "but you shouldn't have to do it alone. It's not been fair from the start, not with everything here being so...precarious." A slight shrug, and a smile for the rest. "You won't believe it, but I've gotten a taste for gathers. You wouldn't have sold me on this without the promise of parties. But," she leans back again, resting against the back of the bench. "I'd be happy to do it. Just stop pointing out all my virtues, you'll embarrass me." "Eventually," Farideh breathes. "I feel like that won't be for another twenty turns at least. How can anyone be expected to just know and perform everything perfectly? Duties, relationships, all of it." She makes a face and shakes her head, rubbing her hands over her arms, as though the pervasive cold from outside has somehow made its way in. "Shall I extol your failings, then?" she quips back, not curbing the smile that comes easily to her face. "You'll have the best of all the worlds-- the work, the easily accessible luxuries, the connections, but none of the actual responsibility. Lucky you." "I'm sorry it's been hard on you. I should have - I think I knew, but everything still seemed so unfair." It'll hae to suffice as the apology she's needed to dole out since they Impressed. "Oh, Faranth, don't do that either. I've been dwelling on them for months." She glance up at the skylight again, like the sun might have peeked through, but it's still dreary up there. "Lucky," she repeats, amused. "I keep hearing that. It must have to do with where you're standing. And where I'm standing, keeping track of you and working through your faux pas is responsibility enough." Still wholly teasing, still mostly gentle, but ultimately true. "You'll get there," she repeats, "and it won't take twenty turns." Faryn stands then, stuffing her cards in her pocket. "You tell me when, Farideh. And if you need anything in the meantime, you know where to find me." "You don't have to apologize to me-- yet." Farideh's mouth curves into another smile, her eyes lifting when Faryn rises. "Babysitting the runners, I know, I know," waving her hand dismissively. "I'll let you know when it's time, but it's approaching. Start practicing your face in the mirror, brush up on your geography, and make sure your handwriting is legible." Then, she moves her hand in a shooing motion. "Oh, yes, ma'am," is accompanied with a silly little bow and a roll of the eyes. "Don't do anything foolish, in the meanwhile. Enjoy your privacy." Faryn turns on her heel to go, after that, and doesn't look back on her way out the door. |
Comments
Alida (23:44, 23 June 2015 (MDT)) said...
I enjoy seeing how Faryn performs her new duties...and how these two will react to the realities of such. ^^
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