Logs:Tools For Success
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| RL Date: 10 December, 2015 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Lys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lys asks a favor of Jocelyn, who gives her wingleader a vote of confidence. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 7, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions |
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| Having the wingleader packet show up on one's cot makes for an interesting day, to be sure. Oddly, Lys kept a cool self-possession through the challenges of the day as the weyrlings became acquainted with what will be expected of them in the coming month, almost like the packet wasn't unexpected. Then again, they all have to step up at some point, somehow, right? Why not her, now. The extra run around the lake after duties' end was, ostensibly, for relaxation, the pace slow and regular. When Lys and her running partner make it to the narrow land bridge that separates the main lake from the smallish pond, Lys slows to a stop, "I need a favor," she starts as she sinks into a lunge. Having maintained a neutrally respectful distance during drills and other segments of the day where Lys is clearly wearing the wingleader hat, Jocelyn is content to go on that extra run around the lake afterward in an amiable enough silence, even if her expression remains that of one who has much more on her mind at present than the task at hand. Eyebrows lift on the heels of the blonde's request while the older weyrling also takes the opportunity to stretch during their pause. "And what would that be?" she prompts expectantly, tone shading a touch wry for her addition of, "Wingleader." "Still going to tease me when I assign you extra stairs runs in the hatching cavern?" Lys asks with an imperious arch of brows, and then grins, purposefully ruining any chance of coming off the least bit serious. The next, however, is serious, "I'd like to use your weyr. The front part of it anyway, until I'm settled into mine. It's going to be tough for me, this month, keeping up with wingleading, with silver threads, with regular training-- It's a lot at once and you know there's not enough space for that in the barracks, not where people won't mess with my stuff." However inadvertently. "No, ma'am, " deadpans Jocelyn, seguing easily enough into the more serious turn their conversation takes. She straightens from her stretch with a little shake, pale eyes considering her fellow trainee as her feet shift back and forth in place. "I don't spend as much time in that portion of the weyr as I do the back, " she says after some moments pass, "so you certainly wouldn't be in my way if you wanted to use that space for working up until dinnertime on most days. Consider it yours to borrow in the afternoons." "That's what I thought, weyrling," Lys replies tartly, looking convincingly sour before she grins again. "Thank you. I'll be out by dinner," except if she accidentally loses track of time or falls asleep. Then Jocelyn might have to throw her out, forcibly. "I know you have a lot on your plate right now," she goes on, thoughtful, perhaps even a little nervous, "but could we study together some evenings, for silver thread stuff?" It's a good thing there are some older, if cozier chairs tucked into that front cavern - just in case. Jocelyn's chin dips into a small nod for Lys's thank-you, brow furrowing a moment for this second request. It relaxes soon after, followed by a terse, "Yes, " that's perhaps softened by her subsequent, "We can. It's quite a lot of material to take in on its own." More so with additional lessons atop those. "You seem to be holding up alright, unless you're simply doing a top-notch job at hiding some struggles." "Holding up," Lys tastes the phrase as she switches from one stretch into another. "I'm managing, but it's taking all my waking hours and I'm not getting enough sleep as is." Are any of them? Have any of them since the start of all of this? "I'm worried, Joce," is wholly serious. "It's a lot. I know you have a lot, too, but in the end, you'll still be a weyrwoman. I could lose my silver thread if I can't keep it all together. I didn't know I'd care, but I do." "I'd be surprised if anyone's resting well, " says Jocelyn simply, shifting into a series of small lunges in place, one at a time. There's a long, measuring look for the greenrider as she silently listens to her concerns, gray eyes flicking momentarily to her own shoulderknot before returning to her companion. "Lya." They might almost be foreign syllables, now, but the redhead's usage of Lys's former name must be a purposeful one, given what follows. "Don't underestimate your own strength of will. Even if you did manage to lose your thread, look at what you've already learned since we started our advanced classes. You already have a permanent leg up when it comes to the classmates who aren't going through the extra lectures with us. That won't change." It's a logical-sounding, matter-of-fact delivery. Her former name does draw Lys' attention, with great focus. It catches her off-guard, disarms her after so many months of being so completely Lys. She looks troubled, "That's sort of just the point, Joce. Lya would never have wanted this, would never have tried. But I've seen how much I have to gain, that's why I'm working as hard as I am. Because crazily enough, it matters to me. Now I've seen what I have to lose and I don't want to lose it." There's a brief pause before she adds, "But I'm not stupid. I'm not going to get through this month without help." "No? I seem to recall that Lya once asked me what it was like to be a steward of the weyr as a whole, rather than the hairdresser of one woman." Of course it matters, attests the way Jocelyn's arms fold across her chest, the way she regards her classmate. "You're not stupid, " she agrees stoutly, head tilting in the direction of the weyr proper, "or you would have spent far more time in a role which you've clearly outgrown." A positive use of her bluntness isn't a very frequent occurrence - which is perhaps why, somewhere in the background, Aidavanth quietly shares her approval with Evyth for her own rider's force of will that's bent on attempting to bolster their mutual friend. As for help, well. "We'll get through it. We have all of the resources we need: our heads, dragons and teachers who are supposed to support us in constructive ways." "She had no idea," Lys tells Jocelyn with an enigmatic smile. "We'll do our best," she agrees. "Your help means a lot to me." And in that moment, that admission, there's the evidence in her eyes that Lys is not nearly so confident as she pretends. This new role is a new opportunity for the bossy, bitchy bits of Lys to have constructive outlet, but as ever, it's more bark than bite and here that's a hindrance not a help. "Ready to go back?" She asks as she glances back the route they came. "I'd like to get set up before tomorrow, if you wouldn't mind my staying a little past dinner tonight?" Jocelyn's expression turns approving. Perhaps it's the admission that's as much verbal as in the other's eyes that elicits the somewhat brusque, "You're welcome." If the look in her eyes is anything to go by, it's genuine no matter how gruff it may sound. Beastly could take barking lessons from them both. "Let's go, " she replies, nodding. "I don't mind." She's of little conversation on the way back, and keeps mostly out of Lys's way while the other gets situated in that outermost room, interrupting only to offer the usage of the bath and to distribute some fresher glows from her study to the front table. If there's one thing Lys is good at, it's being unobtrusive. The thing is, leading is not the sort of activity where that's compatible. She does try to keep her things fairly contained. It takes a few days of Lys appearing at odd times of the mornings to trade papers before she starts to find a groove and figures out which paperwork she needs to have with her in the barracks and which can stay for afternoon work at Jocelyn's. In those first days, there's no accidental sleepovers but... there's so many more days in the month to go! |
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