View source for Logs:Ms. Tardy and Ms. Testy

{{ Log
| who = Brieli, Azaylia
| where = Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Some have already adjusted to having their own space, more so than others, which makes for an... ''interesting'' morning.
| when = Day 11, Month 5, Turn 29
| gamedate = 2012.07.28
| quote = "I couldn't help it."
| weather = A layer of gray clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
| categories = General
| mentions = N'rov, K'del
| icons = 
| log = Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
----
Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.
Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.
An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.
----

This morning, while the rest of the class got together for morning calisthenics, Brieli and Iesaryth were both suspiciously absent; inquiries to the gold got vague replies about sleeping in or something, nothing definitive. But they ''are'' there by morning lectures, if perhaps a little late and a little harried, the weyrling not quite as well put together as usual. Any curious or questioning glances are entirely ignored... but by lunchtime, Brieli's sidled up to Azaylia to ask, "Want to have lunch on the patio?" If the other goldrider agrees, she'll be quick to head into the caverns to pick up food, to secure a table out in the overcast afternoon.

Azaylia agrees. When has she ever not? But the response is a quiet one, and she's slow to leave Hraedhyth even with soft murmurs and strokes along the gold's muzzle. Food's always good, though brunch sounds better than lunch, picking up a bowl of some hot cereal that made its way into lunch. No sense in letting it go to waste. Once they've managed to grab a table, she lowers herself and already lifts a spoonful into her mouth, looking at Brieli with a simple gaze. When she finally does speak, "Do you think that they could use leftover cereals in some sort of cookie? The stuff that doesn't get eaten." Even after folk like her. After all, weyrwomen are supposed to consider how to make things last.

Lunch for Brieli is varied and large, like she's making up for a meal or two. The quiet responses, the simple gaze from Azaylia all serve to rattle her calm a little more than usual - a little more than it already has been today. Once they've sat down to eat at the table, she picks at her food with a fork before considering the bowl of cereal. "I don't know that much about baking. Can you baking things already cooked? I suppose we'll have to ask." After poking holes in a cube of cheese a few times, suddenly and not as casually as she'd like, "You didn't hear anything last night, did you?" Just out of curiosity. You know, no ''reason''.

"Maybe make some sort of... cereal sticks for the little ones. It would be healthier." Azaylia continues down that path, prodding at any passing idea and sharing them casually enough. "I'll ask." She echoes her friend with a faint nod, leaning forward and swirling some of the oatmeal with her spoon. At least her appetite isn't completely gone, just diminished if the single serving is all she's having. Another spoonful, "I only heard Hraedhyth complaining about that bronze being back last night." ''That'' bronze, now. Not ''the'' bronze. "At least he's not being so rude, now." Though Hraedhyth's words, they carry none of that same fire, Azaylia's voice still quiet and fairly measured. Bland, if anything.

"I suppose that could work," Brieli says, eyeing Azaylia and the cereal, her sharp gaze obviously curious. "Something to send down to the nursery? For snacks?" Not that she spends any time down there, not if she can help it. Spearing and eating the cheese, picking out this and that, there's a bit of relief in the set of her shoulders, though her expression remains faintly troubled. "He spoke to Ysavaeth. At least, that's what I heard," she offers, seeming bemused. Tilting her head, considering the other weyrling, "Are you all right?"

Azaylia nods her head once more, this time with a curious tilt to it. She's considering the snack option. "I think they'd like that. A little dusting of sugar to trick them into thinking it's still bad for them." Of course she's peeked into the nursery once or twice, small smile appearing at the memories. "He did." There's a safe bet that it didn't soothe her dragon ''that'' much, but it's a start. Brieli's question has her eyes flicking up, faintly surprised though there's not much of a change in her expression. "I'm fine." Nursery-born smile manages to persist, "You?"

Nodding, "If they have snacks. They do, yes?" Brieli spears a carrot stick now, waving it around. "It might look more interesting than this." The small smile from Azaylia brings one of her own, and she turns her attention back to her lunch, seeming a touch relieved for it. "I hope it passes," she sighs, but there's not a lot of hope there in her tone. However, there is the implication that Vhaeryth will be back. Glancing up briefly, "You just seem quiet, I suppose. But that's good. And I'm fine." She's trying to keep a straight face; she mostly manages.

Azaylia nods once more. Each of the motions has been smooth, complaint, "They do. Have to feed them every once in a while." Even with the dry delivery, it's obviously a joke from this particular weyrling. "Dragon memories." Though Cadejoth and Hraedhyth are the territorial sort, and they can't be the only ones. Her words don't offer much comfort, then. "I'm allowed to be quiet." Spoken in even more of a whisper, lacking the snap or indignation others may have had. Her lips purse, the only tension visible in her forward slumped posture. "''I'm'' not allowed to be late to class, though." There, she said it.

Even though Brieli's worried, she has to laugh softly at the joke, agreeing, "I suppose you do. Parents say their kids grow like them..." She trails off a little at the end, fine brows drawing together in concern at the whole thought of the dragons; who's actually behind their issues. But it's Azaylia's last and the other goldrider's posture both that does her in - dropping her fork with a clatter on the table, she sighs heavily. "Oh, Azaylia. I'm not allowed to be late either. I just don't know what they're going to do to me for it." Gaze flickering somewhere, anywhere else; "I couldn't help it." Her color is high, her tone is grudging - it's not an admission she likes making.

Azaylia doesn't roll her eyes. It's just not done. Doesn't stop the young woman from looking like she really wants to in the glance she sends her friend. "I know you aren't either. I was being..." Not funny, but she can't find the right word at the moment. Her head shifts, cheek squashing one eye into closing by the palm that keeps her head propped up. "Sure." It's not that she doesn't sound convinced. In fact, she's fine with leaving it at that, opening her mouth for another spoonful of warm cereal now. Around a mouthful, "Probably nothing. You're not the first." To be late, be it because of ''visitors'' or something else.

"Oh. Okay." Brieli doesn't seem entirely convinced, but she's willing enough to leave it alone. She will point out, as she tears open a roll to butter, "Maybe not the first, but perhaps one they'd like to make an example of. Who knows." She shrugs over Azaylia's way, not certain she understands the ins and outs of the weyrlingmasters' punishments. Still a bit flushed, "I'd rather it didn't happen again." After a bite of the roll, she asks, "Have there been that many? And do you think they would nai-- Er, get on your back if you were late? Really?"

"Maybe." Azaylia is not so disconnected that she can't see their being made examples as a gold weyrlings. Scraping the bottom of her bowl, she finishes and resumes her typical pose, both elbows on the table and knuckles squishing at her face. "I don't know." Care. "I don't pay much attention when other people are missing." Just enough to realize that it happens often enough. Especially with having their own weyrs. So perhaps Brieli is the sort to be missed, be it by classmates or Weyrlingmasters.

Entirely bemused by this side of the other goldrider, Brieli watches Azaylia as she eats her roll, pushing her tray forward so she can offer her bounty. Not sure what to say for some time, she waits until her roll is done to try out, "Are you missing the company? I know you said you might. The weyrs... they're terribly big." At least, she assumes. Then, on another tack entirely, "Have you thought much about what to do with the advance Iolene arranged?"

There's an audible crack from Azaylia's knuckles as they tense, forearms momentarily bulging though she remains otherwise still. Brieli's silence only encourages her own, and even after the other goldrider speaks she doesn't say a word. When she finally does, they are barely audible, an attempt to read her trembling lips are a safer bet, "...I hate living in a weyr." A slow exhale, one that propels her backwards to sit straight up in the seat. Her eyes remain on the empty bowl, giving a shake of her head at talk of marks.

Concerned, alarmed even at the crack of knuckles, the almost silent words, Brieli's dark eyes go wide. "Really?" Not that she doesn't believe her, she's just confirming. She reaches out like she wants to touch Azaylia, but is too nervous to right now. "We... you need to say something. If it's that bad." Her tone is calming, her voice low - not willing to alert anyone to all of this.

The look she shoots Brieli is something tired, "Yes really. I know it's hard for ''you'' to-" Cut off, cut short, she closes her eyes and takes a slow breath to cool the words that had carried some heat with them. It doesn't take too long to calm, still not overly worked up given that it's Azaylia. Desite how she may actually be feeling. "The weyrwarming will help." Unconvinced, but the steps are already in motion. Just getting the words out is a noticeable improvement, her gaze apologetic now. "It's not. Probably. I just have to get used to it, still."

With a wry, sympathetic smile, Brieli doesn't seem to take the near-snap personally. Picking up her fork, she just shrugs. "It's odd to me sometimes," she notes quietly. "If I didn't have a bedroom, I might not be able to sleep. If I had to in the main room." The very fact that there's more than one room is astounding in and of itself. Trying to be encouraging, despite her negative nature, "It might help. It's supposed to bring good feelings in, make it a home. But it doesn't hurt to tell people if something's bothering you." Never mind that she's just made one of the more hypocritical statements of the turn. Nodding, "Possibly. Maybe there's something from home, or from the Craft that could help."

Azaylia stays silent, possibly scared of snapping if she opens her mouth. She's listening still and will convey as much with a few nods in the appropriate places. Hands inch from the table towards the edge, dropping to their doom and settling atop her lap. There she can pick at the black leggings, gaze lowering even more so to watch her progress. "I don't like bothering people." She sounds guilty enough to have realized that this isn't much better. With a defeated sigh, "I understand why Hraedhyth ledge hops now." Not that she's offering to share, merely thinking out loud.

If there's anyone on Pern who can't throw stones about being moody, or not the nicest person on the time - it might just be Brieli. She watches Azaylia for a moment or two more before going back to her lunch, noting lightly, "You never bother me. ''Hraedhyth'', on the other hand..." Quirking a smile as she picks through some sort of casserole, "I know, you feel like it's not important, but you are important to people. Not just because of your dragon. You know that." And if not, she'll keep saying it till it gets through. Teasing, but serious enough to be an offer, "Do you want to sleep over sometime? Braid hair, tell ghost stories?"

There's a sharpness in her eyes at the mention of Hreadhyth. Nothing so flinty as Brieli's, but certainly something defensive. Azaylia decides not to comment on it, for all that the other weyrling is trying to comfort her. She realizes this, tries to be better for the sake of lunch. "Everyone lives in a weyr." All the dragonriders at least. "There's no way to fix it, so it's not important." Especially not in the grand scheme of things that are wrong with things. The offer isn't considered long, "No." She'll soften her reply somewhat, "My being needy is what made your being... busy... such a big deal." When she clearly thinks that it isn't. "Besides, I don't want to meet him that way." Arms cross, something vaguely maternal about the sliver of guilt. "''If'' I ever do." 

Quietly, "I was joking." For Brieli's noticed that defensive glance, maybe realized this is not the time for that sort of humor. Too late, but it's something. And she has to allow, nodding to Azaylia, "It's true. But I can't see you being the only one having an issue adjusting. Someone might have an idea. The Weyrlingmasters. K'del." She even suggests the Weyrleader without any inflection one way or the other. Pursing her lips, though her eyes are bright, "You could stay, or I could stay with you. He's not here all the time. That was the..." She colors again, waves it off. Still a touch embarrassed, "I'm sorry. When he's been here..." That's a sentence that doesn't need finishing, does it?

"You're one of the only ones who don't mean it." Azaylia says, just as quiet, not that she blames the other weyrling for what she overhears. Arms uncross to place palms on the table as she seems to be steeling herself, a few audible breaths slipping in and out. With one last fortifying inhale, she manages a genuine smile and reaches for Brieli's hand. "Worry about you. I'll be okay. And I am happy for you, if he's serious enough to have you breaking the rules." A weak squeeze, and she'll attempt to lean back in her seat. Voice isn't as flat, she's trying, "Unless something happened?" There seems to be enough on her friend's mind.

"You're right. I shouldn't be adding to it, then." Brieli's definite on that, tone apologetic. She's concerned again at Azaylia taking that time, those breaths seeming to worry her, no matter what her fellow weyrling tells her to do. Wryly, "I worry over everything. Especially you, sometimes - the weight of things seems heavier on you, for all you're able to carry it." The squeeze to her hand brings a smile and a little shrug, diffident as she says lightly, "I don't mind breaking the rules sometimes." Giving up on lunch, putting her fork down, "Nothing happened. Well, I mean. Nothing bad. It's... good." Good enough that she's still smiling, but it's not like her to overdo it with details, especially at a time like this.

The attempts lose some strain, becoming more genuine with each passing moment as Azaylia manages to put herself in a better mindset. Concern for her is appreciated, but she doesn't say anything more about it. "Good?" She repeats in a sigh. "That's uhm... good." The smile remains, and she prods at the subject a bit easier now. No guilt meant, "I ''would'' like to meet him, sometime. He's got to be something." For Brieli to approve, for Iesaryth especially. Jaw rests atop the bridge her hands have made, doe eyes soft and settled on her friend. "Did he bring you flowers? Sweets?"

This sort of conversation doesn't come easily to Brieli; it's obvious by the way she shifts in her seat, glances away now and again. "I'd like that too. And I think he would, it's just... I can't stop..." Her color is now high, and she just agrees, "I'll try. Next time, I'll try. Or maybe he can come to your - our party. And he's..." How to put it? It takes her some time before she can settle on, "Charming. Funny." But there's more, by her tone - things she can't put into words. With a little smile, looking back Azaylia's way, "He tried to bring flowers, this time. But I think the petals mostly got lost on the way." She's not bothered by that, more pleased with the gesture.

Azaylia is aware of her friend's discomfort, not pushing too much for details. Instead her questions are meant to skim the surface, and it's up to Brieli to delve deeper should she choose to. "It's new. Exciting. Don't stop your ''fun'' for me. There's always time, later." Sounding far more experienced, even if she isn't speaking from it. "Of course he's invited. It's a party for you, too. It could be half Fortian for all I care." Hraedhyth is unamused, wherever she is. Azaylia isn't so serious, at least not now, "That's cute... But it is the thought that counts." She can tell that much from Brieli's smile.

"I'm just not very used to... talking. About this. Or having much to talk about?" Brieli looks as if Azaylia might not believe her, but she'll forge on ahead anyway; "I don't really-- I don't know that I'd say anything is ''serious'', but it's something more than I'm used to. So. And I'll ''find'' some time." That seemed to cost about as much effort as any of Azaylia's speeches might have taken from her in her shyer days; with a nod, "We'll see what we can sort out. Half-Fortian might be as bad as half-Islander lately?" Another sad attempt at humor before her smile widens again, and she agrees, "Something like that. It was sweet."

For all her difficulties earlier, Azaylia now watches the other young woman with a half-lidded, amused gaze. Both patient and understanding, "You don't have to. Just know that I'll be happy to listen when you do feel the need to gush." When she isn't having such a bad morning, that is. Though the idea of Brieli of all people gushing is enough for a gentle laugh. "Maybe you should get him something in return? I love giving presents." As if that much isn't obvious.

Almost disgusted by the idea, "I don't gush. It's just... doesn't it ''bother'' you, to listen to people go on about someone? About all the things that ''they'' only likely think about that person? I'd never do that... I can't." Brieli shakes her head, for some reason certain on this, but she does pause; remember human feelings and give Azaylia a fond glance for the understanding and laugh both. As for gifts, uncertain, "I gave him a scarf for graduation. It's so ''difficult'', you don't know what it means to them sometimes. Flowers are so easy. Anything you give a man is permanent; some of them read things into it."

Azaylia may look hurt, but t'is only a flesh wound. A glancing blow, and she recovers easily enough. "I think it's sweet. To have someone, to care about someone so much that you just have to ''explode'' with it." In this, she finally does speak from experience. "Even if it only lasts a little while." Voice is breathy even without that grounding sigh. It doesn't dampen her mood, "Why not a riding jacket? New boots? Or if he has a hobby, was a crafter before? Something he enjoys in his free time could give you some gift ideas."

After a long moment in which more actual emotion registers, Brieli concedes, "There is that. I... don't know that I've ever felt that, but... I shouldn't make it sound awful." She's sympathetic for Azaylia's words and tone both, looking down at the leftovers on her plate before she can look back across the table; with a wistful smile, "Nothing lasts forever." And if she keeps telling herself that, she'll never be disappointed, right? Right? Considering, "That's just... a lot, isn't it? I don't know. I'll think about it. I don't want to look like... I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Doesn't mean you can't enjoy what you have, while it lasts." Azaylia counters with her gentle optimism. "People have different ways of showing they care. I'm just... me." She hasn't examined her own affectionate habits enough to confidently put words to them. Gathering up her bowl, her hand hovers near Brieli's plate, a silent question. "You should do whatever's right for you." Which of course isn't what Azaylia would do, most of the time. "If you don't know what that is..? Then just have fun." While you can, though that faint implication may be residual from her earlier mood.

"I suppose that's true. On both counts." Brieli isn't surprised by Azaylia's quiet wisdom, but rather - pleased that she seems to be confident enough to offer it. As the other goldrider gestures to take her plate, she nods once, pushing out of her chair as well. Wryly, "I have my own way, I imagine." She gives her friend a sidelong glance, perhaps apologetic, then; "I'll think about it." That last, faint implication might arch her eyebrows, but she says nothing, just takes it in stride. "Do you want me to take the plates back? I've been late already, so..." What does it matter if the errand makes her late after lunch?

Azaylia places her bowl on top of the plate, picking up both and straightening with a smile. It's only one gesture on the road to repentance for earlier, "I think your being late again will just make things worse." If by some miracle Meara didn't notice the first time, she'd certainly notice it twice in the same day. "I can take them back. Hraedhyth and I will have a nice run after." Long, active legs all but ensuring that she will still manage to be on time for afternoon classes. If barely.

Reluctantly, "All right. I'll go now, make sure I'm early." Brieli doesn't seem to think that Azaylia is the one who needs to be repenting, but she accepts it - though she'll add, "If you ''do'' want company tonight, or anytime - let me know. I'm not busy all the time, like I said. It's not... like that. You'd hear from Hraedhyth if so." With a slight smile, "Neither of you bother me. Ever. I promise." And she'll lead the way down the stairs to the bowl, making her own run to the barracks to perhaps have an extra five minutes to fix her hair.



{{#ifexist: Logs_talk:{{BASEPAGENAME}} | <h2>Comments</h2>{{Logs_talk:{{BASEPAGENAME}}}} | }}

}}


<comments />