Roz: Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, Edyis |what=Talk gets heated when Farideh and Edyis discuss M'kris. |where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=..."

2015-10-15T01:18:57Z

Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, Edyis |what=Talk gets heated when Farideh and Edyis discuss M'kris. |where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=..."

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{{Log
|who=Farideh, Edyis
|what=Talk gets heated when Farideh and Edyis discuss M'kris.
|where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
|involves=High Reaches Weyr
|day=2
|month=1
|turn=39
|IP=Interval
|IP2=10
|gamedate=2015.10.14
|quote="Mark my words, whatever the council decides, would not be punishment enough for what that man has done."
|mentions=M'kris, Irianke, K'del, I'kris, R'hin, Mielline
|type=Log
|icons-new=Icon farideh vivid.jpg, Icon edyis wtf.jpg,
|log=Gray leaden clouds blot out the sky above the weyrbowl, and without actual snow falling the air is cold and ground icy. It is not surprising then that most patrons of Snowasis prefer to stay ''inside'' and not on the patio, which bears the brunt of the colder weather. Yet, it's on the patio that Farideh chosen to sit, with a strategically placed cushion between her and the actual chair. She's cradling a mug of something steamy between her hands, and dressed warmly in multiple layers of blouse, sweater, and outwear, with a knit scarf and a fuzzy hat; all of which keeps most of her facial features, except for her nose and bright eyes, hidden from view. On the table, there is an assortment of hides, as per usual, and a plate of now-cold snacks. No one joins her and she appears to be awaiting no one either.

Leaden clouds to match leaden steps, the snowdrift wing rider aiming somberly for the patio ledge and it's sole occupant. Her own attire is warm, a knitted sweater beneath the leathers. Her hair lacks the usual intricate braid, tied messily in a knot at the back of her neck, boots laced and tied, a small green tendril resting just barely visible at the base of her throat. Dark eyes rest on Farideh, focusing in recognition. Her path inside halts breifly, and she studies the woman. "Weyrwoman."

Hazel eyes flick up from the words written elegantly across those hides, honing in on the brownrider; after a blink or two, a smile surfaces. "Edyis," Farideh greets, lowering her hands so her wrists rest on the tops of her thighs and the mug is, likewise, elevated there. "How are you?" It's a quiet question, not as polite as it rings ''sad''.

"Surviving." The smile that follows the word, rimmed with fading sadness. "How about you, Farideh? I imagine you've been busy of late with the chaos." There's a tilt of her head to truly study the woman, Edyis halting to give the goldrider her full attention.

A slow, sympathetic nod is given to Edyis, but then Farideh is leaning back, pulling her shoulders back, and tipping her head to the side. "I don't think ''chaos'' is a word I would use. Honoring a rider of our Weyr, one of us, isn't ''work''. But I'll be glad when this hatching business is done. Roszadyth loves those eggs, but--" Wrinkling her nose, she lifts her mug to take a sip.

"Honoring a rider of the weyr." She echoes, lips thinning faintly. "What else do you call it when the world comes knocking at Reaches door? Twice now, Monaco has murdered one of our own, and it would seem the same bloodline is to blame." Muted anger tightening the words, "Faranth, sometimes, sometimes Farideh I start to belive this place really is cursed." There's a softening of her expression as talk turns to eggs and weyrlings. "Is it frustrating, being bound by maternal duties?" Edyis wonders then, pulling a chair out to settle herself at the table.

Farideh listens and observes while the brownrider speaks, with her mug hovering near her mouth. It's after she's taken a generous swallow and set it on the table that she asks, "What do you think should happen to him? M'kris." She studies Edyis' face for her reaction; her ''own'' face only shows neutral curiosity. "Roszadyth isn't bothered," the goldrider says, exasperated coloring her voice, "but I grow weary of sitting and watching, watching and sitting. Talking about eggs and colors and-- I'll just be glad when it's done and we can ''go'', back to how things were, before."

"I think someone should have ended the bastard long ago, if you must know," Edyis answers absolutely in her conviction. "Or are you of the school of thought that believes because he rides bronze he should be allowed to go free?" Eggs is a safer topic it would seem. Since the barest hint of a smile spreads, "Everybody loves babies it would seem, and just wait until after they hatch and you have over a dozen little minds waiting to be shaped and molded." There's a smirk, "I really do feel badly for Quinlys."

"Of course the color dragon that he rides holds no merit, Edyis." Farideh's expression change is swift, from politely neutral to irritated. "It has more to do with the fact that he's a Weyrleader-- or, was-- and his ''son'' committed the first act. If we acted before we thought, and merely tossed him ''between'', would we be much better? Monaco would be out a Weyrleader. A rider. His children a father. His family--" She's certainly not compassionate in her speech, however much she seems to oppose the idea of having M'kris ''offed''. "''I'' am not the weyrlingmaster. I think Ros-she might have a passing interest, later, if she can remember, but ''I'm'' not their mentor." Hands off! "I don't miss being a weyrling, either."

"You think a man who commits such a crime without thinking is still ''fit'' to be a weyrleader?" Edyis returns sharply, dark eyes intent on the brunette. "M'kris's list of sins is a mile long Farideh, and you are a lot more naive than I thought if you believe this is the worst of them." She shakes her head the words striking a chord. "R'hin agreed with you once, and look where it landed him." Whatever compassion she might once have had, there is no sign of it in this.

"You can stop putting words in my mouth, Edyis. I never said I was sitting in judgment of the man. ''That'' is not my fate. Kyouri will decide that." Farideh's fingers link over her as-now-slightly-rounded abdomen as she considers Edyis. "I ''think'' that it's much more horrid to put someone through the length of their life, with the memories of what they did, cast out and treated like a leper. Can you imagine? Being the grand, high and mighty M'kris, and then one day being ''stripped'' of that power, ostracized. No one wanting ''anything'' to do with you anymore-- politically, personally. I doubt he'd be able to get a woman to throw up her skirts for him. And the comforts he's out to--" One hand lifts, flicking out and away, in the signal of ''washed away''. "And what was that?"

"Cast out and treated like a Leper." Edyis can't help but scoff, "That might work with a holder, but we are talking about a Rider. What's to stop him from showing up at your next flight? You can't leave a wound to fester, the whole limb will rot." She snorts, "He could gather support, people who might actually buy his line of bullshit, you could have renegade wings, honestly. You'd let a man who could blink between just... walk with the expectation he'd handle whatever fate was asigned with grace?"

"I ''trust'' that Niahvth would keep Feyzeth grounded throughout. It's not as ''easy'' to ''hide'' when you've got a dragon attached-- it's not as though he can slink through corridors and wile away his time in desert caves." Farideh frowns, but shrugs her shoulders lightly. "Someone would have to manage him-- presumably, Monaco. Their queens would keep his bronze tethered, to the Weyr, and-- I don't think this happens ''often''. No one wants their other half to suffer, usually," she sighs. "I can't answer for M'kris."

"Fuck Farideh, would you listen to yourself?" She shakes her head, "All that work to keep a prick who, by the way betweened his own son. Or did you forget that I'kris fell under Monaco's jurisdiction?" Anger in her voice then. "You don't deign to sit in judgment yet you pass it anyway. Mark my words, whatever the council decides, would not be punishment enough for what that man has done and you would simply foist the responsibility off, and chalk it up to ''a gold'' will see it through."

The angrier Edyis gets, the blanker Farideh's expression becomes. "You are grieving. You are upset. Perhaps you should speak with a mindhealer, Edyis. Maybe Mielline can give you time off of drills-- a day, or two? It helped ''me'' when I was overwhelmed," is all quiet, calm, with her fingers re-linked over her belly.

"I'm sick in the head because I don't for one second believe that anything good can come from leaving that man alive?" And Mielline's name earns a cold look. "Fuck you and the gold you rode in on." She's leaving then.
|Categories=General Logs, The Death of R'hin Logs
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Logs:To End A Man's Life - Revision history

Roz: Created page with "{{Log |who=Farideh, Edyis |what=Talk gets heated when Farideh and Edyis discuss M'kris. |where=Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches Weyr |day=2 |month=..."