Logs:You Don't Know Me
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, E'sren |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'sren has questions, Aishani has answers, but no one is really satisfied with the result. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 1, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A blanket of cold, dense fog fills the bowl with its oppressive presence and obscures vision. |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Meara/Mentions, C'wlin/Mentions, N'hax/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Date change due to more IC events. Time might be fuzzy. |
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| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern. It's been kind of 'a thing' that E'sren has been keeping his head down a lot lately. The stuff with N'hax and C'wlin, all of the everything with the Hold, Devaki, all that, the crafters, and finally... the tithe, it's all enough to drive anyone into hiding. And even if he isn't technically hiding, he hasn't been quite as accessible of late. Tonight seems a fair change, he's sitting in one of the booths in the Snowasis for starters. His drink of choice is just beer, maybe not even a good kind, something cheap in reverence for the current state of things. He takes drinks and plays with a little ball of paper in turns, alone in his booth. Of all the people that might hide from the Weyr, Aishani's high on the list -- but as she's done in most crises, personal and political, she makes absolutely no changes to her routine. Absolutely no outward changes, at the very least, so that's what finds her at the bar this evening, despite all the reasons she might not want to be. She has her single drink before her as she sits and listens, and there's sure an awful lot to listen to, much of it far from positive. And though there's little reason to expect much better elsewhere, the goldrider'd noted E'sren some time ago; might as well get it over with. Glass in hand, she slides from her barstool to approach the table with a trepidation that she hopes doesn't show. Apprently E'sren doesn't share this same awareness of Aishani, there have been no glances in her direction, but then again he hasn't done much looking around at all unless the girl who's been handling his drinks comes by to check on him, then he'll give her a smile and a dimple, tell her everything's fine. She'll walk away and he'll go right back to staring into either the beer or his own hands. So when the goldrider approaches he's understandably taken by surprise when he realizes it's her when he smiles up; he must have assumed it was the same girl. The smile fades, though not quickly. He does look around now, at their surroundings, and sits up a little straighter in his seat. "Okay." This is where it's gonna happen then, maybe he had other plans, but, "Have a seat?" It's an invitation, but with him in his vest and button-up shirt, it's also a little like when the teacher wants to see you after class. It's difficult to stop being aware of one's surroundings when it's trained into a person. Despite being mistaken for the bar girl, Aishani still flashes a brief smile of her own for E'sren, even as his fades. The weyrling's preparation and tone both has her arching fine brows high -- sure he's older than her, but there's never been quite the same sense to it before. So her, "Hello," might be a bit pointed, but she does have a seat across from him, setting down her drink on the table, crossing long legs neatly. With a glance around, "People will watch, but they can't usually hear. Not as easily here." That draws from him a quizzical furrow. He's adjusting himself in his seat, sitting forward, when she says it, so he pauses to consider her words before finishing by clasping his hands loosely on the table between them. "Duly noted," he decides to say, with one of those dimpling smiles. He's actually still smiling at her for a moment after, before he lifts his eyebrows and quirks his mouth. "When is this gonna stop?" Aishani's a little bemused herself, as she regards him, head tilted for a long moment before, "What, precisely?" That wasn't the response E'sren was expecting, if he even has any expectations. So he looks confused now, waiting to see if anything else is forthcoming, and when it isn't he gives her an answer. "This. First it was a third of a tithe, now it's no tithe. Except it was a third of a tithe. It was something, we could have used that, and now we have nothing." He squints at her. "You sent it away. Why?" Beseeching, that's a good word for it. Quietly, "There's a lot happening." Aishani's jaw sets for a moment, and she looks at her drink, but doesn't take it up, just stares at it for a long time. "It wasn't easy. And we don't have nothing, we won't have nothing. I know what we have, and I can-- there's ways." Her dark gaze flickers up to E'sren; it doesn't seem it's easy for her to look at him for long, but she holds it briefly before going for the glass. After a drink, "Because if they start this shit now, where will we be in thirty turns?" "You can?" E'sren is expectant on that note, as if some hope lies within him that she had a plan, that she had it all figured out before. But even his hope has a shelf life. It could be that his pained expression is sympathy for her trouble, for the state of things, or just... sadness for what this is. Until she poses that question and he stares at her, disbelieving. "If they... We're the Weyr. We're supposed to help people." Pause. "We can't even help our own now?" "I'd thought of a few things before because I'd thought we'd had a deal of sorts, or at least, that I'd been forewarned. Apparently, I was quite mistaken." Aishani's tone is faintly bitter as she looks at what's left in the glass; she downs it and sets it down, away. At E'sren's insistence that they're meant to help people, she has to laugh, though it's flat and humorless. "What has the Weyr ever done for our people until one of us was in charge? Ran us down, killed us, made the others afraid to poke their heads too high lest they get caught by their necks." She lets out a breath. "The Holds. We can't let them decide what we do. Who's in charge. Who they feed and who they don't." That bitterness is met with the same sad, dark look. E'sren just can't seem to understand it, even if he hears the words and knows what they mean. He actually winces when she laughs. When she's done he looks down at the table, to think, still staring down when he begins speaking. "So you get to decide," he murmurs, then meets her eyes again, even if it's only briefly he'll do it. "Who's in charge? Who you feed, who you don't?" "What? No! Can't you see, if they say 'it goes here or there', that's just the start? I don't say where our supplies go, who they go to." Aishani's bewildered briefly, but does add, "I did suggest the punishment to Quinlys and Meara, yes. But aside from that..." She trails off, fine brows coming together in a serious, consternated look; she's thinking hard. Eventually, "The question is really: Do you say fine, let the tithes go to who the Holders choose, fail to make a fuss, and hope their little games and conditions on delivery don't get worse the next Turn? Do you bend over and take it if someone gives you the option of that or sending supplies back? What do you do? With the future to think of, the next Pass, as insane as that is to even consider." "They gave us less because of C'wlin and N'hax. And that was bad enough. But then you send it back. And where do we go from here?" E'sren looks away, he has to, and clenches his jaw while he swallows something down. "I think you swallow your pride, and you feed your people." Now he'll look at her again, his mouth a thin line of worry. "I'm sure you had your reasons for doing it. But you did it, and now people are gonna go hungry." He takes another moment to regroup and adds quietly, "I can't just do nothing anymore. This is too much." Dead serious, quickly, "No one is going hungry. No one. I made sure of that. If that were an issue, believe me..." Aishani is able to meet E'sren's gaze for that, dark eyes intense. "You can believe that or not, but I know those stores, and I know what can be done. There's enough and there will be more. And if you think this only has to do with pride? If you won't listen to what I've said, I've told you about what else I need to worry about? Then you don't know me, you won't understand. Do whatever you 'have to do', tear this place apart more. Feel proud of yourself." "Well I'm really glad you have it all figured out. Because for a second there, I was worried." And since this has taken That Turn, E'sren reaches into his pocket for payment for his drinks so far, clearly having reached the decision to leave. "I'm not gonna do this. And I'm not gonna change my mind. Sending that tithe back was a mistake, you fucked up. And I definitely," he sets a few mark pieces of varying amounts down, including a tip, "don't know you." And as if he might run from those words, from having said them, from being that person, he does the awkward slide out of a booth and stands, walking away from her and everything with a quickness, throwing his hands up when someone almost runs into him on his way out and their way in. Shani's cheeks may flush as she stares at the table as the bluerider leaves, but there's no change in her expression, nothing to indicate what she's really thinking. |
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