Logs:Teachable Moments - Revision history

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Tela: Because duckface icon was more like making a show of dubiousness, and because it's 'J'madri.'

2013-05-14T08:03:57Z

Because duckface icon was more like making a show of dubiousness, and because it's 'J'madri.'

K'del: Created page with "{{ Log | who = Quinlys, Telavi | where = Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr | what = Telavi's upset about perceived injustice; Quinlys has some thoughts on the subject..."

2013-05-13T06:25:33Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = Quinlys, Telavi | where = Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr | what = Telavi's upset about perceived injustice; Quinlys has some thoughts on the subject..."

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{{ Log
| who = Quinlys, Telavi
| where = Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Telavi's upset about perceived injustice; Quinlys has some thoughts on the subject.
| when = Day 7, Month 10, Turn 31
| gamedate = 2013.05.12
| quote = "It's a 'little piece of their love.'"
| weather =
| categories =
| mentions = N'gan, Quielle
| ooc =
| icons = quinlys serious.jpg, telavi dubious3.png
| log = Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr

----

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.

----

Drills are ''over''. The barracks are supposed to be ''empty'' of more than the smell of leathers and sweat. But no, there are voices ringing against stone back where they were supposed to have piled up the gear: Tela getting into J'mandri's face, something about ''Quielle'' and ''how dare he'', never mind that the other greenrider's considerably taller and stockier.

"That's ''enough'', Telavi." When Quinlys wants to, she can sounds pretty authoritative, and right now is one of those moments. A moment ago, she was most of the way across the barracks, doing something else entirely; now, she steps right up towards the pair of greenriders, casting a sympathetic glance towards J'mandri, albeit one that lingers for only a second before it turns, abruptly harder, towards Telavi. "Is there something you'd like to talk to me about?"

Telavi startles, though she's not Solith to flinch away, an abrupt turn that makes the most of her height as she steps back. "Weyrlingmaster," she acknowledges, ducks her head even, caught red-handed and knowing it. While she doesn't spare J'mandri a sharp look while he escapes, then she's looking back at Quinlys, consideringly. She lifts her chin. "Yes please." There's no comma, no pause.

Quinlys' gaze is unflinching, apparently unbothered by Telavi's attitude, and anything that might be able to read into it. Several seconds pass, and then she gestures in the direction of the office - sharply, with emphasis. Turning abruptly on her heel, she leads the way, apparently quiet confident that the weyrling will follow her lead.

There's the scrape of a different heel that's Tela pivoting, following, not hard on Quinlys' heels but not at all far distant.

Inside the office, Quinlys gestures to the empty chairs, but waits at the door: waiting, it seems, for Telavi to sit down, so that she can close the door and do likewise. Her eyebrows raise: she's waiting for something else, now, too. Waiting - and listening.

Telavi sits. "Weyrlingmaster," Telavi repeats. And then in a different tone, "Quinlys... why, ''why'' did it take so long for N'gan to get the boot too?"

Something in Quinlys' expression softens when Telavi gets to the meat of her complaint. But no, she can't make this easy: "Can you think of any reasons as to why that might be? Good reasons, justifiable reasons?" Why yes, ''everything'' is a possible teaching moment.

The weyrling draws herself up, sitting very straight in that chair, as though it ''were'' a drill and her emphases were beats. "''If''," and she leans on that word, "she didn't name him. ''If'' she weren't believed. ''If'' he denied it," not quite the same thing. "If people think, as some people ''do'' think, it's the girl's ''fault''. I'd ''like'' to think it isn't because of just who his family is," but Tela's shrug and the shift in her voice hold a certain realism, even resignation.

Each of Telavi's beats is punctuated by a nod from Quinlys, her expression remaining unchanged. "Or a combination of the above," she offers, at the end of that. Something tugs at her mouth, something she's quick to try and stop so that she can add, "Yes, his family had something to do with it. Yes, an issue that would normally be dealt with within the barracks, and get no further, did need to be presented upwards. That's the way of the world. ''Politics''. But I won't have you thinking for a ''moment'' that anyone intended him to get by without punishment. The matter had to be investigated, and despite how unfair it is, the woman is automatically fingered in this-- her partner in crime has to be determined. Fairly. Shells, I hate it, but it's true: if you automatically believe the woman, and don't take the time to investigate, how is that fair?"

"Of course," and the replying tilt to Telavi's own mouth is only barely longer-lived. She listens, leaning forward now, eyes darkening as Quinlys talks but not at all in anger. Or not at Quinlys, as there's still a... ''testiness''... to her. "That's a relief," she says genuinely, the tendons in her neck just a touch less tense, if just for a moment before she's back on N'gan's case. "But that he'd ''deny'' it." Her hands don't hit her knees, they're already there, but they press hard. "After all we'd ''done'', been through, all of that. What investigating did... does something 'like' this take?"

Quinlys gives her temples a weary rub, closing her eyes after Telavi's question-- one she clearly doesn't especially like. Or is it the situation she doesn't like? It's not hard to imagine that this is something that she, too, feels strongly about. "Did Quielle tell you he denied it? Did she also tell you that she tried to protect him, at first?"

''Yes'', say Telavi's eyes, right before, "What? The stupid--!" And Tela counts Quielle as a friend even if she isn't ''Sabella'', they worked together and laughed together ever since they got reknotted together, though they saw less of each other once the weyrlings were split. That, anyway, is no secret. Lower, "I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not... ''really'' surprised."

For that, Quinlys will open her eyes and regard Telavi levelly, showing not-entirely-hidden mirth around the corners of her mouth and eyes, even if it's mostly just exhaustion. "Neither am I," she owns. "But none of us expected-- I shouldn't even be talking to you about this, you know. Any of it. We're not commenting, officially." But Tela ''already'' knows. "She's going to need friends," she says, instead. "More than ever." And N'gan? Not even on her radar.

"We aren't," Telavi confirms with a silent two-fingered tap to her temple, and she can't help but be ''pleased'' that Quinlys will talk, even so. "I wish people wouldn't treat her like it's contagious. I ''wish'' she'd," but Tela bites that off. "I'll try to figure out what more I can do. Is she... she wasn't sure... well, if she'd keep it. If she'd be allowed to. If she'd be allowed to ''not''."

This time, a long sigh. "The healers now think she's far enough along that-- it looks like she'll be keeping it. I think she's made her mind up in that way, anyway. Though... I'm not her friend and peer." And Quinlys ''does'' acknowledge that the official line and the reality are not necessarily the same. "She'll be kept back, of course. She'll have to be. That's going to be hard on her, too. I get the impression she's uncomfortable talking about it." Blue eyes consider Telavi, cautiously.

Tela doesn't leap to reply. She's considering Quinlys, too. Then she says, "It's a 'little piece of their love,'" and the way she says it has the rhythm of Quielle's speech, right before the scathing way the greenrider bares her lips to comment on ''that''. Only then, whether it's a conscious softening or thoughts of Quielle's very real bind that slip through, "She thinks that he'll change her mind, that he still ''loves'' her, that he's just lost right now and he'll realize." Probably he ''is'' lost, maybe has been ever since those sands where he was only going to watch. Tela wets her lips, a little flicker. "I don't think that's so much of a secret that I shouldn't share... not with you."

Quinlys' expression says what the bluerider is not willing to put into words: Faranth preserve us from love-struck teens and their romantic notions. "I won't tell her you said," she promises, after scrubbing at her face again, her hands returning, after, to rest upon the tabletop. "Maybe he does. Maybe he is. But none of that... she and my little sister were friendly, at one point. It's just hard. Damn hard. At least this is a weyr. At least it isn't going to ruin her life, whatever he does. Well. Being stuck in the barracks together ought to do ''something'', anyway."

"Good, because if you did, she'd mope at you too." Except for all that that's harsh, there's relief in Tela's eyes, relief and empathy... and the guilt that has her glancing away toward the tea cart that ''Quinlys'' doesn't use. There but for the grace of Faranth, after all, if aided by not a little pre-planning. But at that ''something'', oh, Telavi's looking back, she's all of a sudden smiling, one palm lifting to swipe across her forehead and brush away the hair that hasn't hung there for months. She should have known. "''Something,''" she agrees more wryly, for that 'something' not necessarily being what Quielle might hope.

"''Something''," repeats Quinlys, likely as not trying to convince herself, though she can't have any illusions, either: the glance she aims at Tela is knowing. "Just be a good friend, Telavi. The rest-- she'll work it out, or she won't. But ''she'' has to do it, not us. Now," and she straightens, carefully. "Is there anything else, or shall I shoo you on out?"

Telavi hears Quinlys' words, but does she ''listen''? At least she pays lip service to, "Of course she will," even if it turns out nearly as wry. She can give Quinlys a half-smile, at least, and consider for a beat or two before she replies. "Shoo away, please. Just, if there ever is anything practical, anything specific that you might ''suggest''... you know where to find me."

Quinlys' nod is a firm one, approving. "I will," she promises. "If there's anything at all. Thanks, Telavi. Have a good night." Shoo. ''Shoo''!

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 | what = Telavi's upset about perceived injustice; Quinlys has some thoughts on the subject.
 | when = Day 7, Month 10, Turn 31
 | gamedate = 2013.05.12
 | quote =  "It's a 'little piece of their love.'"

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 {{ Log
-| who = Quinlys, Telavi
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 | what = Telavi's upset about perceived injustice; Quinlys has some thoughts on the subject.
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 | mentions = N'gan, Quielle
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 | log = Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
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 ----
-Drills are ''over''. The barracks are supposed to be ''empty'' of more than the smell of leathers and sweat. But no, there are voices ringing against stone back where they were supposed to have piled up the gear: Tela getting into J'mandri's face, something about ''Quielle'' and ''how dare he'', never mind that the other greenrider's considerably taller and stockier.
+Drills are ''over''. The barracks are supposed to be ''empty'' of more than the smell of leathers and sweat. But no, there are voices ringing against stone back where they were supposed to have piled up the gear: Tela getting into J'madri's face, something about ''Quielle'' and ''how dare he'', never mind that the other greenrider's considerably taller and stockier.
-"That's ''enough'', Telavi." When Quinlys wants to, she can sounds pretty authoritative, and right now is one of those moments. A moment ago, she was most of the way across the barracks, doing something else entirely; now, she steps right up towards the pair of greenriders, casting a sympathetic glance towards J'mandri, albeit one that lingers for only a second before it turns, abruptly harder, towards Telavi. "Is there something you'd like to talk to me about?"
+"That's ''enough'', Telavi." When Quinlys wants to, she can sounds pretty authoritative, and right now is one of those moments. A moment ago, she was most of the way across the barracks, doing something else entirely; now, she steps right up towards the pair of greenriders, casting a sympathetic glance towards J'madri, albeit one that lingers for only a second before it turns, abruptly harder, towards Telavi. "Is there something you'd like to talk to me about?"
-Telavi startles, though she's not Solith to flinch away, an abrupt turn that makes the most of her height as she steps back. "Weyrlingmaster," she acknowledges, ducks her head even, caught red-handed and knowing it. While she doesn't spare J'mandri a sharp look while he escapes, then she's looking back at Quinlys, consideringly. She lifts her chin. "Yes please." There's no comma, no pause.
+Telavi startles, though she's not Solith to flinch away, an abrupt turn that makes the most of her height as she steps back. "Weyrlingmaster," she acknowledges, ducks her head even, caught red-handed and knowing it. While she doesn't spare J'madri from a sharp look while he escapes, then she's looking back at Quinlys, consideringly. She lifts her chin. "Yes please." There's no comma, no pause.
 Quinlys' gaze is unflinching, apparently unbothered by Telavi's attitude, and anything that might be able to read into it. Several seconds pass, and then she gestures in the direction of the office - sharply, with emphasis. Turning abruptly on her heel, she leads the way, apparently quiet confident that the weyrling will follow her lead.