Logs:Wingleader Tactics
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| RL Date: 20 May, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin needs some advice; Quinlys provides it, in a round-about way. |
| Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 11, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Sh'mel/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| Weyrlingmaster's Office Made private by a thick, insulated door that blocks out most of the noise from the barracks beyond, the Weyrlingmaster's Office is a comfortable, quiet alcove. Instead of an imposing desk, much of the room is taken up by a large round table, with five chairs spaced around its edges. Beneath it is a square rug pieced together with twisted rags that stretches from wall to wall, just leaving room for the long bookshelves and filing cabinets. On the back wall, a tapestry of the Weyr's badge is hung, providing both insulation and decoration. In one corner sits a small green plant, growing strong despite the lack of sunlight in this windowless room. Beside it rests a tea cart, prepped and ready. The seven is off to a bumpy start. Sh'mel isn't a leader, and K'zin is trying not to overstep. It's a recipe for mistakes and frustration. This morning found K'zin hitting his limit. Careful not to show it, of course, (for what kind of 'second would he be if he tore his 'leader a new one in front of the wing?), lunchtime brings a brisk and purposeful knocking on Quinlys' door, the door opening to reveal a stony-faced K'zin when bid to enter. Quinlys must have been anticipating a meeting along these lines, because after the door opens there's no surprise in her expression at the identity of her visitor. She was lounging back in her chair, but now she straightens, letting both feet sit flat, her palms equally flat upon the surface of the round table. "K'zin," she says. "Come on in, sit down. I think Meara left cookies." None for Quinlys: she has to work too hard to try and keep her figure. K'zin's movements are decisive as he crosses to sit in the chair beside Quinlys, instead of across from. He turns the thing to face the Weyrlingmaster before plopping down in it. Cookies are, for the moment, ignored as elbows go to his knees and his hands clasp in front of him. He takes in a slow breath that is released with just as much control. His fingers flex together, tight as are his lips, pressed to one another. It's like he's taking the moment to order all the words that are running rampant in his mouth so only the 'appropriate' ones are released when he finally opens his jaw slightly to say, "I need help, Quin." His eyes flick from his hands up to the woman's face. "Sh'mel..." He doesn't seem to know the next words, or maybe whatever words are lined up next in his mouth aren't appropriate for it snaps shut, and he just gives her a half-helpless, half-reproachful look. Turning her body so that she can face him, there's a definite shift in Quinlys' stance and expression as she gets a better look at the weyrling - and, perhaps, comes to grips with the depth of his present predicament. She waits, patient and silent, for him to get out the words he needs to. That's the moment when she nods, finally, just a halfway incline that isn't immediately followed by words. Then, "Sh'mel is not half the leader you could be," she agrees, her voice placid, in a way, except for the bits that are apologetic. Apologetic, but not wholly apologetic. She's certainly not ashamed. "Are, even. He's out of his depth. He knows it, you know it, I think everyone knows it. But you're not, even if you feel like it right now." "I don't feel like it. That's part of the problem." K'zin answers with a sigh then, some of the tension slipping away from his jaw. She'll listen to him, at least, he now knows. "I know what needs to be done. I've been paying attention. To everything. To all the others who've come before us, and to everything you and Meara and even I'zech have told us. I just don't know how to-- I don't know what Sh'mel needs. He doesn't want my advice even if he needs it, and I don't want to be the jerk that makes him look incompetent in front of his wing. To be a leader in more than name requires respect and if I'm bossing him around in front of everyone, he's not going to get it." Neverminding that Sh'mel's doing a fair job at not getting it anyway. "How do I get him what he needs without compromising his position and image? It'd be one thing if he were open to listening to me, but he keeps shutting me down when I try. In private, I mean." Again he looks to her: to the teacher, who put him in this predicament. Silently, the question is asked: what do I do? Given Quinlys' expression, she knows all too well the difficult task that's been assigned to K'zin (and no doubt Sh'mel, too, but clearly she's less concerned about the greenrider, right now). "You're right," she says, evenly. "You can't undermine him in front of your Wing; that's a terrible way to handle things, and absolutely poor leadership. You can't let him flounder, because that's bad for the wing, and bad for him." She ticks these things off her fingers, one after another. "You can't yell at him in private, because he's not going to listen to that; he has his pride. What would you do if this were a real life Wing situation? If Flurry were a fighting wing?" Why yes, Quinlys has long since adopted the practice of giving as few outright 'answers' and 'solutions' as she can. Even if, right now, it looks like she's itching to say something more. "I would go to a wiser, more experienced rider for advice." K'zin answers, his tone turning dry, edged with humor to try to take some of the tension out of the conversations, He shifts, sitting up in his chair and then stretching his arms up over his head before settling them on the arms of the chair. "I don't know, Quin. I guess the first step is to get him to trust me. To get him to see that our fates are tied together and our best chance is to work together. But I don't feel like that'll go over well in any case. Pride is a-- hard thing to deal with, Ras says. Tayabeth's easier than Sh'mel. She's not proud that way. She likes Rasavyth. And that helps too. But Sh'mel-- I feel like if I just tell him how things are, it might work, but it might also just make things worse between us and they already aren't great, even though I'm trying." The dryness of K'zin's tone makes Quinlys smirk, but only for a moment. "Would you go to the Weyrleader?" she prompts. "The person who, presumably, appointed this Wingleader of yours, or at least has the power to un-appoint them? Or would you seek out someone uninvolved in the situation first?" The way she's nodding suggests she's still considering the rest of what he has to say - she may even be approving of it, though that's less certain. In either case, she seems to intend to wait until he answers her question before saying anything more. There's a rueful sigh for that question; she wins. "No. Weyrleader's got more important things to think about and presumably had a good reason for appointing that person." The bronzerider reaches up to push his fingers through his hair, obviously thinking deep on the matter. "I'd probably seek out someone who'd once been a Wingleader or wingsecond a long time ago but not anymore. Wouldn't do to spread rumors of badly led wings among other active wingleaders who have to work with the wingleader in question. And wouldn't do to have Weyr business getting outside the Weyr if it doesn't have to either, but it'd be good to go to someone who had nothing to gain by stirring up trouble based on what I might tell them." It's safe to bet sizable markpieces that Rasavyth had something to do with this politically-savvy response. Quinlys leans back in her chair, now, listening with her head tipped just slightly to one side. "Good," she says. "That seems reasonable. Of course, if a problem got bad enough, you would be within your rights to talk to the Weyrleader. Maybe he or she hasn't realised how problematic things are. Weyrleaders get pretty busy. Sometimes they just don't see things. Of course," and she smirks again, "You have to be careful how you approach things if you do that, too. You don't want to imply that they made a mistake." She hesitates, giving K'zin a lingering glance. "Were you sitting in when we talked about dealing with difficult situations, in the silver thread classes?" "Right. No one likes to be wrong, or to have it suggested they are." K'zin nods, the phrase he delivers not sounding like he's telling Quinlys (for surely she already knows), but repeating some lesson that he might've gotten from Silver Threads, but more likely from one of the many books Rasavyth's insisted he consume. "I don't think I was there for that. It doesn't sound familiar." There's a pause where his eyes briefly scan the air in front of him as though he's reading a book, or perhaps cross-referencing an index, then a firmer shake of his head. "No. We weren't. What'd we miss that I can use now?" It's an impressive little gesture, that scanning the air one, and it leaves a thoughtful little smile on Quin's face, one that she doesn't seek to elaborate on. "I should've remembered that," she says, in a way that could be apologetic, if she let it (she doesn't; no apologies, no weakness). "If I were you, Waki," she continues, "I'd try and manipulate him more subtly. The key is to make sure he thinks all the ideas are his, and that you're just agreeing with him. Lead him to things. It takes a little work to perfect it, but once you get your head around how to... that's what I'd do." K'zin looks a little uncomfortable at Quinlys' suggestion. He swallows hard and then leans forward, voice dropping as though it will help hide from his omniscient (when it comes to K'zin) lifemate. "Rasavyth suggested that. He says it works for Tayabeth. But it feels-- I don't know... wrong? Isn't it wrong to manipulate people that way even if it's for the greater good? Or does the safety of my wing, my Weyr, my home trump the wrongness?" From the way he words it, this is a further-reaching question than just the matter of Sh'mel. "Maybe it just feels wrong because I've never done it before. Never needed or wanted to." He chews his lower lip, worrying at it as he worries. Worrywart Waki. Will he ever learn to stop? At least he's worrying about the right things now, things like morals and ethics, instead of girls. "Do I like the idea of manipulating people? No." Quinlys is prompt in answering that, and even reaches up to rub at her temples, exhaling lengthily. "But that's part of what leadership is about: getting the job done. It's--" She breaks off, turning her gaze away from K'zin and towards the far wall, staring into the tapestry that's hanging there. "In an ideal situation, you have a Wingleader who knows what they're doing, and is doing their absolute best to make sure the Wing is at their best. Sometimes, though, that doesn't happen. If Flurry were a real Wing, and this weren't an Interval, would you hesitate before doing something that you thought would save lives? It's not usually that drastic, and I like to think that you won't run into this kind of situation in the future, but... Your first duty is to your wingmates, and your Weyr, and yeah, the greater good. But that's also why you'd need to be willing to talk to your Weyrleader, even if it might end up earning you their disapproval. Leadership means hard choices." There's a pause, and then, strongly, a, "However." K'zin is perfectly attentive. Sometimes when advice is sought, the seeker has a tendency to only want their own ideas affirmed or to not be in a place to actually be receptive to the advice given, but it's obvious from his intense look as he listens that he's not in either of those boats. He's genuinely trying to seek counsel from the weyrlingmaster. There's a slight grimace for placing the decisions in the context of life or death, and there's a shake of his head to say he wouldn't hesitate under those conditions. The strength of the however catches his attention especially, and his eyes flick up to meet hers, waiting for whatever might follow the weighty word. That pleases Quinlys, in as much as anything seems to, at the moment - certainly, she's got a low, careful tip of her head to remark upon it. When she picks up, it's in a quieter voice. "Sh'mel's not a bad rider. He's out of his depth, yes, but he's trying. He wants to be good at this, and he feels awful that he isn't. Would it surprise you to know that he's already been to see me? Not," she adds, quickly, "that I'm going to tell you what I've told him, or what he's told me. Being frustrated at him isn't going to help things. It's early days-- be patient with him. Let him try out his wings before you clip them too much. If that makes sense?" Beat. "Get to know him, if you can. Socially. Did you know that he paints beautifully? He's been painting murals onto his weyr walls." K'zin's head nods to show he's heard her on the matter of Sh'mel's situation. Surprise does show in his face for not the fact that he's been to see Quinlys, but the painting. "It doesn't surprise me that he's come. He'd have to be stupid to not notice how crappy things are right now." He takes a deep breath, "And I wouldn't ask you to. I expect some degree of privacy in my conversation with you, he's certainly entitled to the same, as you see fit." He sits back up straight running a hand through his hair. "I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll ask him about giving me a hand with the murals in my weyr, since Ras insists they're not appropriate for all company." Though that hasn't seemed to stop the visitors he's had thusfar. "Thanks, Quin. I'll give the whole thing a try." Whole thing means, of course, the gentle manipulation, the getting to know him, the trying not to clip his wings. The bronzerider pushes himself to his feet. "It's good to know that we're both trying, at least. Permission to be excused, Weyrlingmaster?" She's been Quin the whole conversation, but now, there's the moment of necessary formality. "It's only been a few days," says Quin, quietly. "Work with him, if you can. Just - do your best." She hesitates, mouth left partially open, as though there's something else she might say, but evidently she changes her mind on that front, even to the point of shaking her head. "Of course, K'zin. Good luck with it. And let me know if you need any more advice, mm?" For now - well, he's on his own. |
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