Logs:You Can't Make Me
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| RL Date: 6 June, 2011 |
| Who: Riorde, E'dre, Iolene, Rhaelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iolene doesn't want to go, Riorde does but can't yet, and E'dre is frustrated with nearly everyone. |
| Where: Beach, Western Islands |
| When: Day 17, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| It's not a very dawn-y dawn, what with those storm clouds converging upon the islands, and while once, those clouds would have sent people flying to the caves to cower and hide, it's the beach where most people have been drawn to. It's Operation Rescue Central there and midst them Iolene's grandmother is directing various groups of people. "No, no," argues that formidable old woman, all tall and completely white in hair, with a belligerent man. "No. Jacynda and her family will go first. Can't you see? She doesn't even have covers to keep her shoulders warm." Iolene trails after her grandmother, distracted by events around her rather than focusing on what she's being told to do. Riorde and her family are among the clusters of people coming down from the mud huts that make up the settlement, father in front and helping and old woman descend to the beach. Riorde and her younger brother take up the rear, arguing fiercely every step of the way. "Fardling flying sea-whers, I'm older than you, I get to go," Riorde snaps at Eirdan, to which the dark-haired boy belligerently answers back, "Fishbones you do, I'm a boy, I can take care of Gran better than you can," and from there it devolves into a shoving match. It's been go, go, go for the dragonriders that have been ordered to collect people and bring them back to the Weyr to safety. Some of them have been more than kind, understanding the grumblings and the rantings of the person's they are helping. Some, not so much. E'dre and Wroth have never been good with working as a transport group. If the brown has been making sure to stare hard at the people, if he was less inclined to make it easy for them to get on his back, his rider has not reprimanded him. E'dre is tired, dusty, and not in the mood for arguments. "You, you, and you - go get on that green over there," he instructs a group that has arrived. He spots the older woman and man, along with Iolene and Riorde's group. "How many of you are in a group? Half of you can go on the blue, the other I will take." Iolene's trail after her grandmother abruptly ends when another contingent of those dragon things arrive. Not quite immune yet to the constant stream of these flying sea-monsters, the lanky island girl turns up, reflexively shading her eyes for the upkick of sand, and blatantly stares. In this time, her grandmother's many paces ahead, working to help strap together some of Jacynda's precious, few belongings and E'dre speaks to them. An involuntary step back is taken and those dark blue eyes swing to latch onto the brownrider. "No, no. Not me. I'm not going." Beat. "Yet." Riorde never takes kindly to being told she can't do something because she's a girl and hits her brother in the arm, a punch he gladly returns. Perhaps surprisingly, it's the old woman who settles it in a rough, creaking voice rather than the middle-aged man supporting her. "Eirdan's going because he'll just gawk at those dragon-things instead of working." Riorde looks sulky as she stares at the brownrider, sulky and silent. It's Eirdan who pipes up, bouncing forward as Riorde sends a kick behind him. "Me, I'm going!" And the teen shoots a triumphant look back over his shoulder at his older sister. "Fine, then go to the other ride," E'dre answers to the teenage boy, not even bothering to look at him again as he focuses on Iolene. The greenrider that had been indicated to help transport this group steps forward and she begins to discuss with the older members of the group the particulars about traveling on dragon-back. E'dre looks to Iolene and his eyes narrow, "What do you mean - not yet? We don't have all day to wait for you to collect your things. You're here now, you go now." His hands settle on his belt and he tightens them as he looks to Riorde, "Are you going?" The other boy's enthusiasm gets a glare from the brownrider and a point in the greenrider's direction. "/No/." It's a lot more forceful than it probably needs to be and Iolene's little hands ball into fists at her side, as if it's taking her all her strength not to just run away from this sea-monster taming man. "My gran is making sure this is organized and that people have collected their things. I have to help her." Even though she's doing a piss poor job now. "And- ... I'm not leaving without my family." Though a look is spared Riorde and hers, the antics of the boy and the sibling squabbling drawing an unbidden quirk to her lips. This moment of humor is quickly dispelled when she looks back to E'dre. Childishly, "You can't make me." The boy is hardly daunted, not at all cowed. He even looks briefly disappointed that he won't be able to ride with the man and ask him annoying question after annoying question, sent off instead towards the smaller dragon and the greenrider, a woman. Still, a dragon is a dragon, so he takes up his grandmother's other side with the patter of excited talk meant to cover up nervousness. Riorde, for her part, turns her sullen gaze to E'dre as she's addressed, rubbing her bruised shoulder as she comes up alongside Iolene. "No. Our home's not ready for the storm coming in." E'dre's brown, Wroth, is not that far from his rider and at the approach of the group he has pulled himself up from his sprawled position on the ground. His tail is tapping at his side as his head swings around and focuses on the two girls. His rider turns a glance back at him and lifts a brow as his lips quirk into a smirk. "Wroth says that I should leave you to be blown into the sea, but I've got orders to collect one more group and you're here. A storm is a storm, I'd like to remind you, and no matter how you prep your 'homes'," his sarcastic tone is clear, "they can easily be destroyed no matter your effort." He glances at Iolene, adding, "Is there a particular reason /why/ you're playing at being a child? I can't make you, no, but I'm telling you I'm leaving and you had best get on the brown with me." To Riorde, he adds: "Are you going to play at this too? I don't have all day to waste arguing with the pair of you." It's a very gray and turbulent dawn where there's little sunlight and the beach is the center of Operation Rescue staging. The elders are organizign people where they can, and dragonriders are flying in and out corraling the groups off. There's a miniature stand off in the form of Iolene-E'dre-Riorde somewhere upon the beach. He can't make her, and as if to prove a point, Iolene takes another step back, this time voluntary. "You don't have to be spiteful about it. This is all we've lived for until now and at least we're trying to save it." Looking decidedly sour in an un-Io sort of way, the blonde girl turns on heel and trips after her grandmother -- a grandmother, mind, who is looking at Iolene and her interaction with the dragonrider with a highly disapproving little tsk to her lip and set to her eyes. "He was trying to force me to go now," is her lame explanation, and the clever old woman, knowing when best to pick her battles, doesn't press the issue other than by rolling her eyes. "Stubborn as your parents." And look how well Iolene's parents turned out. Dead. Riorde's mood looks to be worsening by the second. "For all we know, we're coming back as soon as the storm's past," she counters, able to stare at the rider straight in the eyes as she scowls. "/You've/ got a home to go back to. I don't want mine blown away." Her glumness shows her words for the lie they are; she'd love her hut to be blown away along with all the others if it meant never coming back, but her conscience and her family make her prepare otherwise. Although not as unsettled about leaving as Iolene is, for this little confrontation she's firmly on the other girl's side. But then Io's making good on her escape, and Riorde sends after her, "See you." A grey faced old man leans heavily on a worried-faced young woman as they make a careful progress down the beach, through the press of activity and chaos the beach as become. She's keeping her attention focused ahead of her while the old man looks and gawks at the dragons flying and landing. "I told you Rhaelyn, didn't I tell you?" His voice whispy and rough, ending in a rattling cough. She doesn't say anything, her sharp eyes looking for an opening, an opening that Iolene just happens to make and after the coughing fit is spent, she heads right for the dragon man and Riorde fearlessly, just daring anyone to get in her way. "Fine," is all E'dre says on the subject of Iolene's choice and escape. He focuses his attention on Riorde, shaking his head. "Whatever. What needs to be done? I'm not about to take one of you and not the full amount I can fit. It looks like your brother and rest of your family is going on the green. Are you coming?" And though up to this point the brownrider has been less than helpful or empathetic, at the approach of the sick man and another girl, he changes his tone and steps forward. "Here, come here. Sit him down near my pack. Is this all of your group?" "No, my father's coming back," Riorde corrects as if this minor detail is important. "Brother and nan." She takes a step away, ceding room for Rhaelyn and the old man she escorts, stepping out of the way. Rhaelyn's hard eyes soften with relief when it seems she doesn't have to beg, or fight her way through, "oh thank you. Thank you." Her voice showing her nervousness even if her expression isn't giving anything away. The old man cranes his head up to look at the dragon but allows Rhaelyn to help him sit down, "My aunt said she will take care of the cousins. Do you have room? Can you take us? At least my father if nothing else. Please." No introductions or nice-nice for her, though she does offer her fellow exile a tight smile in greeting, not unfriendly, just overwhelmed. "I can take him," E'dre answers, looking towards the man and then he looks to the two girls. "And I can take the pair of you," he pauses, considering Riorde. "If you're coming?" Wroth has continued his glare, though he's focused still on the younger people and not the frailer man that's situated near him. E'dre considers the rest of the beach and watches as the green has settled those she's taking and is preparing to enter the sky. He shields his eyes as he glances upwards at the clouds and then looks back to the three that have gathered around him. "We can go now." Riorde is unhappier than she should be given imminent departure, arguing in order to stay when anyone who's heard her in the time since the dragons first appeared knows she's eager to go. When her father comes walking back up from the green, leaving her grandmother in her brother's care, Riorde gives a small shake of her head for E'dre, half-muttering and half-sighing, "The hut." She takes a step back, managing a smile that matches Rhaelyn's in character. "See you soon, Rhae." And then she's fleeing before temptation gets the better of her. |
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