Logs:Big Responsibility - Revision history

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Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, K'zin |what=Farideh is still bummed about Igen's situation, and K'zin has some ''insight''. |where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |when=Day 18, Mont..."

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{{Log
|who=Farideh, K'zin
|what=Farideh is still bummed about Igen's situation, and K'zin has some ''insight''.
|where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
|when=Day 18, Month 9, Turn 36, of the 10th Interval.
|gamedate=2015.01.07
|quote=
|weather=Chilly.
|mentions=K'del, Ali, Azaylia, Wulfan, Joremy, Teoma, Quinlys
|ooc=Backdated!
|icons-new=Icon farideh concerned.png, Icon k'zin intense.jpg,
|icons=
|desc=
>---< Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr(#634RJ) >------------------------<

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.

The weather today is very pleasant. A few clouds chase each other across

the mostly clear skies, and a soft breeze picks up in the afternoon to

make for a fine day.

-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------

Farideh F 18 5'5 Skinny, Brown hair, Hazel eyes 0s

----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------

Snowasis Bowl

|log=
Summer has left and autumn has come, and with the latter, it brings colder weather; not chilly enough for the heavy duty coats, thankfully. It's in the early evening hours that Farideh can be found on one of the benches outside of the Snowasis, wrapped in a long tunic sweater, with her hair tied up in her telltale top knot. She's leaning over, elbows on her knee caps, and her chin resting in the cup of her fists. Her usual vivre and fire aren't present, and in its stead there's a melancholy cast to her features, a glumness in the pout of her lower lip. Even when people walk past her, or wave, her gaze stays focused on a faraway point, her heels wobbling as she moves her shoes back and forth. No one else occupies the ledge, at present, though a handful crowd around the darts board in the bar.

K'zin is in short sleeves despite the chill, but today, he's indulging in warmth of another variety. He has a beer in his hand as he exits Snowasis, eyes drifting over the tables. Perhaps he might not ''normally'' choose to sit with Farideh, especially with so many seats to choose from, but something has him settling across from her nonchalantly. "Thirty-second piece for your thoughts. Or a drink, if you'd rather." The bronzerider offers the laundress peaceably.

Unconcerned hazel eyes flick from their ambiguous hold and find to find the bronzerider, and no sass nor snark rears its head. "K'zin," she mouths, following with a flippant, "you sure? It's just the kind of worries that fill a silly laundress' head. Nothing for ''you'' to concern yourself with." She wrinkles her nose in distaste, and drops her hands to her legs, rubbing as if to provide warmth. "How have you been?" the brunette asks with a mildly interested stare.

"You're the one who seems to think I've got better things to do with my time," K'zin answers not ''really'' rising to the arguably not-quite-bait. "You're in luck, the weyrlings are all graduated now, so I've got some spare head-space," since he doesn't have to think about them anymore. The bronzerider's shoulders roll. "Rough summer." One hand slips to unconsciously rub across the leather band he wears around his wrist with runners cantering in paneled motion. "I've had better, but then I've had worse, too. You?" He reaches up a hand to wave to a server when she peeks her head out to check on the only two occupying the patio.

Lack of words is hardly ever a problem for Farideh, but she simply stares dumbly at K'zin. She is ''probably'' listening, offering her ears where she can't offer her voice. Her head inclines in a brisk nod, lips quirking indefinably. "I didn't think you took your job ''that'' seriously," of his work with the weyrlings. "I've-- had many better. All of this brouhaha with Igen--" She waves her hand about in an unclear gesture, her lips draw down into a frown. "Everyone has such ''opinions'' and they don't know a damn ''thing'', and then there are those ''thieves'' in Nabol. It's not even safe to ''travel'' anymore." Sighing, her hand drops back into her lap, and she slants a rueful glance at K'zin. "I don't mean to talk your ear off."

K'zin leans in, conspiratorially, "I'm going to ask Quinlys to take me on officially next time there are eggs." That's how serious he is. Super serious. His lips are pulling in an amused close-lipped smile. "Even big dumb bronzeriders can care about what they're a part of." Then it's his turn to listen. Telavi's clearly trained him well because he really does, and he doesn't let his eyes roam more than the once or twice required by the Bronzerider Code. "Igen seems to be having a rough time of it," he lets his fingers trace the rim of his glass, looking up once the server has come to their side, "Drink?" He offers to Farideh, evidently whatever she wants, "And some wings please. Whatever they have the most of." Sauce wise. Once the server is away, he adds, "It's safe to travel by dragon. Do you need to go to Igen?" Not that the thieves are really on the way to Igen to begin with, but it sounds like an offer. His ear seems intact and he doesn't seem to mind enough to even comment on it.

"That's a big responsibility," Farideh allows, pursing her own lips in consideration; being ''responsible'' for people, that is. "I thought big dumb bronzeriders only cared about their hair and who they take to bed," said with a hint of her usual saccharinely sweet charm, because who would she be without ''that''. "Igen," she exhales, "is having the worst of it. Thieves aren't ''new'', and Lady Tevrane can pull in the reigns, but Igen can't repair the damage or reputation." Her stream of words stops when the server appears, and she only speaks up when she makes her drink order: "A glass of something red, please." Done being vague, the brunette waits for the server to leaves before cozying her hands between her knees, canting her head towards K'zin. "No. I do not. Thank you for offering. I'm just worrying. Worrying from afar is the worst. It's not like I can ''do'' anything."

"No bigger than how my hair looks and who I'm taking to bed," K'zin answers with feigned gravity. These things are obviously both ''very important''. "You mean because Joremy is in power?" The bronzerider's brow wrinkles, looking like he doesn't quite follow (because he doesn't). "But it was a bloodless change, wasn't it? I mean, the thieves are killing people," at last report. He's giving both matters due consideration. He may be a bronzerider of very little brain, but he's putting that brain to work. "What would you do if you could?" He asks. Maybe this will help somehow?

A couple makes their way up the stairs and onto the ledge, and they steal Farideh's focus momentarily. It comes back to K'zin, reluctantly, and with a light smile. "''Bloodless''?" Her tone is incredulous, but she keeps the meaner emotions out it, moving on with a breezy attitude. "With the thieves you know what to expect. These are bad guys who steal and kill, and have to be caught. ''Someone'' will catch them. With Igen-" Her lips come together and stay, her eyes unfocused. She uses the speechless pause to stretch out her slim legs and point her toes together. "''Whom'' is the bad guy? Is there one? Is either wrong or right? They're ''brothers'', and Lord Wulfan was-- I've heard ''rumors'', but they're surely just that, rumors. ''Everyone'' is affected by this movement." To her credit, she's not much of a free thinker either, but she does offer up a quiet: "I don't know. Tell them to stop being ridiculous and make up?" coupled with a head tilt. ''That'' would solve everything, obviously!

K'zin meets Farideh's incredulity with a look of uncertain (and perhaps a little wary) ignorance. "... Yeah? I mean bloodless, as in no one killed anyone to get the title. Unlike Rone who killed a lot of people for want of a title before he, himself, was killed." The bronzerider's brow is wrinkled as he looks at the laundress. He listens, he really does, to the rest of what she has to say before asking almost apologetically with an almost squint, "Do you have brothers? Sometimes being ridiculous isn't something that one can just stop between brothers." He grimaces briefly before sipping his beer. It's the look of someone with too much ridiculous brotherly experience.

"Not that we ''know''," she sighs, "and it ''could'' happen. Lord Wulfan ''looked'' horrible. Not like he normally looks-- larger than life and gregarious." That might just be ''her'' opinion, as it is, from a teenage girl's perspective. Farideh stares thoughtfully at his beer, and crosses her arms over her stomach, letting her eyes skip over to a blue dragon crossing the bowl. "I ''don't''. I only have a sister and we can-- could-- always make up and get over it. Men are ridiculous."

"I'll give you that," the last. K'zin will even manage a rueful grin for the admission. He ''doesn't'' step into the pitfall that would be pointing out how easily the same could be said for women and why. Instead he sips at his drink. "I only get along with two of my brothers, and even that's sort of a loose wording. The one wasn't a man yet the last time we saw each other, and then my oldest brother... Well, we all listen to him because he's the oldest," and that's what you do. "I can see how brothers might fall into the same roles even once they're grown." He's done it himself. "Do you think perhaps that ''leading'' might be the reason he looked horrible? It can't be easy leading a Hold through something hard. It's a lot of people to care for, to worry about, to try to manage when there's no right answer." His brow puckers a little. "I wouldn't envy him, but maybe his brother did? Or maybe he just couldn't stand to see the toll it was taking on Lord Wulfan." He suggests thoughtfully.

"Older doesn't always mean wiser. What if they do something completely ''stupid'' and ruin their ''whole life''?" Arms fling out, expressing her crystal clear exasperation with ''someone'', and she turns a harsh frown on the bronzerider, without a care for any reaction he may have. "''Older'' does not make them a leader, de facto," one finger held up, her hand held out, before both fall into her lap and her anger deflates much like a balloon would. Farideh's anger transitions into a rueful smile, her eyes taking the far-off quality of one reminiscing. "No. Lord Wulfan always looked put together for all his ''leading''. In his appearances at the gathers, during dinner parties-- he was what a Lord ''should'' be. What he looks like now--" She sighs and crosses her arms, again, over her stomach. "I don't know. I don't think I'll ever understand."

"I didn't say older ''was'' wiser," K'zin says with a shrug. "Zak's never done anything that might ruin his life though. The ''other'' older ones are all jerks. Well, except Kina. But Kina never really cared enough to be a jerk, I guess." The bronzerider looks to Farideh. "Is your sister older?" He asks (perhaps guesses). It's after some few more sips that the bronzerider says, "I doubt there are really any that understand what it is to be a leader, except other leaders." There's a beat, and then a wry, "Maybe that's why K'del keeps getting with goldriders. Maybe they're the only ones who understand what he has to deal with. And maybe not even then."

"Yes, she ''is''," Farideh explains, not tempering her waspishness in her reply, and wraps her arms tighter around her torso. "That's disgusting. I don't want to hear about who K'del does or doesn't get with." She gets up, suddenly, and stares down at K'zin with her usual look of distaste. "This has certainly been ''enlightening''," and after a slight pause and a less aggressive stance, "thank you for-- for talking to me. I needed it, I suppose."

K'zin's brows rise and then he shrugs. "I'm never looking to be enlightening. Glad I could be of service." He probably doesn't mean either of those things, but they're things to say. He's not trying to stop her going, but he's got a drink to finish and not in a hurry to go himself.

"Bye, K'zin," Farideh mutters, already rolling her eyes as she walks away and down the stairs into the bowl. She makes the routine beeline for the lower cavern entrance, rubbing her hands to stave off the chill in the air.
}}
{{Categories}}

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 |mentions=K'del, Ali, Azaylia, Wulfan, Joremy, Teoma, Quinlys
 |ooc=Backdated!
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+|icons-new=Icon farideh.png, Icon k'zin.jpg,
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 |who=Farideh, K'zin

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+|icons-new=Icon farideh downcast.png, Icon k'zin intense.jpg,
 |icons=
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 |where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
 |when=Day 18, Month 9, Turn 36, of the 10th Interval.
 |gamedate=2015.01.07
 |quote="It's a lot of people to care for, to worry about, to try to manage when there's no right answer."

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 |when=Day 18, Month 9, Turn 36, of the 10th Interval.
 |gamedate=2015.01.07
-|quote=
+|quote="It's a lot of people to care for, to worry about, to try to manage when there's no right answer."
 |weather=Chilly.
 |mentions=K'del, Ali, Azaylia, Wulfan, Joremy, Teoma, Quinlys
 |ooc=Backdated!
-|icons-new=Icon farideh concerned.png, Icon k'zin intense.jpg,
+|icons-new=Icon farideh doesn't get it.png, Icon k'zin intense.jpg,
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                                 Snowasis  Bowl
-|log=
+|log=Summer has left and autumn has come, and with the latter, it brings colder weather; not chilly enough for the heavy duty coats, thankfully. It's in the early evening hours that Farideh can be found on one of the benches outside of the Snowasis, wrapped in a long tunic sweater, with her hair tied up in her telltale top knot. She's leaning over, elbows on her knee caps, and her chin resting in the cup of her fists. Her usual vivre and fire aren't present, and in its stead there's a melancholy cast to her features, a glumness in the pout of her lower lip. Even when people walk past her, or wave, her gaze stays focused on a faraway point, her heels wobbling as she moves her shoes back and forth. No one else occupies the ledge, at present, though a handful crowd around the darts board in the bar.
 Summer has left and autumn has come, and with the latter, it brings colder weather; not chilly enough for the heavy duty coats, thankfully. It's in the early evening hours that Farideh can be found on one of the benches outside of the Snowasis, wrapped in a long tunic sweater, with her hair tied up in her telltale top knot. She's leaning over, elbows on her knee caps, and her chin resting in the cup of her fists. Her usual vivre and fire aren't present, and in its stead there's a melancholy cast to her features, a glumness in the pout of her lower lip. Even when people walk past her, or wave, her gaze stays focused on a faraway point, her heels wobbling as she moves her shoes back and forth. No one else occupies the ledge, at present, though a handful crowd around the darts board in the bar.
-−
 K'zin is in short sleeves despite the chill, but today, he's indulging in warmth of another variety. He has a beer in his hand as he exits Snowasis, eyes drifting over the tables. Perhaps he might not ''normally'' choose to sit with Farideh, especially with so many seats to choose from, but something has him settling across from her nonchalantly. "Thirty-second piece for your thoughts. Or a drink, if you'd rather." The bronzerider offers the laundress peaceably.
 Unconcerned hazel eyes flick from their ambiguous hold and find to find the bronzerider, and no sass nor snark rears its head. "K'zin," she mouths, following with a flippant, "you sure? It's just the kind of worries that fill a silly laundress' head. Nothing for ''you'' to concern yourself with." She wrinkles her nose in distaste, and drops her hands to her legs, rubbing as if to provide warmth. "How have you been?" the brunette asks with a mildly interested stare.
 "You're the one who seems to think I've got better things to do with my time," K'zin answers not ''really'' rising to the arguably not-quite-bait. "You're in luck, the weyrlings are all graduated now, so I've got some spare head-space," since he doesn't have to think about them anymore. The bronzerider's shoulders roll. "Rough summer." One hand slips to unconsciously rub across the leather band he wears around his wrist with runners cantering in paneled motion. "I've had better, but then I've had worse, too. You?" He reaches up a hand to wave to a server when she peeks her head out to check on the only two occupying the patio.
 Lack of words is hardly ever a problem for Farideh, but she simply stares dumbly at K'zin. She is ''probably'' listening, offering her ears where she can't offer her voice. Her head inclines in a brisk nod, lips quirking indefinably. "I didn't think you took your job ''that'' seriously," of his work with the weyrlings. "I've-- had many better. All of this brouhaha with Igen--" She waves her hand about in an unclear gesture, her lips draw down into a frown. "Everyone has such ''opinions'' and they don't know a damn ''thing'', and then there are those ''thieves'' in Nabol. It's not even safe to ''travel'' anymore." Sighing, her hand drops back into her lap, and she slants a rueful glance at K'zin. "I don't mean to talk your ear off."
 K'zin leans in, conspiratorially, "I'm going to ask Quinlys to take me on officially next time there are eggs." That's how serious he is. Super serious. His lips are pulling in an amused close-lipped smile. "Even big dumb bronzeriders can care about what they're a part of." Then it's his turn to listen. Telavi's clearly trained him well because he really does, and he doesn't let his eyes roam more than the once or twice required by the Bronzerider Code. "Igen seems to be having a rough time of it," he lets his fingers trace the rim of his glass, looking up once the server has come to their side, "Drink?" He offers to Farideh, evidently whatever she wants, "And some wings please. Whatever they have the most of." Sauce wise. Once the server is away, he adds, "It's safe to travel by dragon. Do you need to go to Igen?" Not that the thieves are really on the way to Igen to begin with, but it sounds like an offer. His ear seems intact and he doesn't seem to mind enough to even comment on it.
 "That's a big responsibility," Farideh allows, pursing her own lips in consideration; being ''responsible'' for people, that is. "I thought big dumb bronzeriders only cared about their hair and who they take to bed," said with a hint of her usual saccharinely sweet charm, because who would she be without ''that''. "Igen," she exhales, "is having the worst of it. Thieves aren't ''new'', and Lady Tevrane can pull in the reigns, but Igen can't repair the damage or reputation." Her stream of words stops when the server appears, and she only speaks up when she makes her drink order: "A glass of something red, please." Done being vague, the brunette waits for the server to leaves before cozying her hands between her knees, canting her head towards K'zin. "No. I do not. Thank you for offering. I'm just worrying. Worrying from afar is the worst. It's not like I can ''do'' anything."
 "No bigger than how my hair looks and who I'm taking to bed," K'zin answers with feigned gravity. These things are obviously both ''very important''. "You mean because Joremy is in power?" The bronzerider's brow wrinkles, looking like he doesn't quite follow (because he doesn't). "But it was a bloodless change, wasn't it? I mean, the thieves are killing people," at last report. He's giving both matters due consideration. He may be a bronzerider of very little brain, but he's putting that brain to work. "What would you do if you could?" He asks. Maybe this will help somehow?
 A couple makes their way up the stairs and onto the ledge, and they steal Farideh's focus momentarily. It comes back to K'zin, reluctantly, and with a light smile. "''Bloodless''?" Her tone is incredulous, but she keeps the meaner emotions out it, moving on with a breezy attitude. "With the thieves you know what to expect. These are bad guys who steal and kill, and have to be caught. ''Someone'' will catch them. With Igen-" Her lips come together and stay, her eyes unfocused. She uses the speechless pause to stretch out her slim legs and point her toes together. "''Whom'' is the bad guy? Is there one? Is either wrong or right? They're ''brothers'', and Lord Wulfan was-- I've heard ''rumors'', but they're surely just that, rumors. ''Everyone'' is affected by this movement." To her credit, she's not much of a free thinker either, but she does offer up a quiet: "I don't know. Tell them to stop being ridiculous and make up?" coupled with a head tilt. ''That'' would solve everything, obviously!
 K'zin meets Farideh's incredulity with a look of uncertain (and perhaps a little wary) ignorance. "... Yeah? I mean bloodless, as in no one killed anyone to get the title. Unlike Rone who killed a lot of people for want of a title before he, himself, was killed." The bronzerider's brow is wrinkled as he looks at the laundress. He listens, he really does, to the rest of what she has to say before asking almost apologetically with an almost squint, "Do you have brothers? Sometimes being ridiculous isn't something that one can just stop between brothers." He grimaces briefly before sipping his beer. It's the look of someone with too much ridiculous brotherly experience.