Logs:Viva La Resistance! - Revision history

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K'del: Shifting time of day just sliiiiiiightly.

2013-05-07T09:06:17Z

Shifting time of day just sliiiiiiightly.

K'del: Created page with "{{ Log | who = D'nis, F'manis, Ali{{!}}Isyath, K'del, Z'ian | where = Nowhere You'd Be Interested In, High Reaches Weyr | what = The leaders of three wings meet to discuss res..."

2013-05-04T04:31:01Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = D'nis, F'manis, Ali{{!}}Isyath, K'del, Z'ian | where = Nowhere You'd Be Interested In, High Reaches Weyr | what = The leaders of three wings meet to discuss res..."

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{{ Log
| who = D'nis, F'manis, Ali{{!}}Isyath, K'del, Z'ian
| where = Nowhere You'd Be Interested In, High Reaches Weyr
| what = The leaders of three wings meet to discuss resistance.
| when = Day 8, Month 9, Turn 31
| gamedate = 2013.05.03
| quote = "Is this our new hangout, cheaper than the Snowasis?"
| weather =
| categories = Divided Leadership
| mentions = A'son, Aishani, Aughan, H'kon, Leova, N'thei, Taikrin
| ooc = D'nis and F'manis played by [[K'del/ST|K'del]].
| icons = k'del cadejoth.jpg, f'manis.jpg, k'del serious.jpg, z'ian.jpg
| log = Nowhere You'd Be Interested In, High Reaches Weyr

----

About as high up the bowl wall as it is possible to get before hitting clear sky, right up against the rim, this ledge is tiny, narrow and not terribly inviting. Though angled towards the sun, there's not enough room to properly stretch out, and that same angle ensures it receives the worst of bad weather, with no shelter whatsoever. From above, there's not even an obvious passage inside, as if this particular ledge is, in the end, nothing more than a natural outcropping. It's only from atop the ledge itself that the cleverly concealed entrance becomes clear, angled into the stone as it is.

Inside, there's a cavernous space, more than making up for the stinginess of the ledge. There's one large main room, and a much smaller back room that could probably be used as a bedroom - if this weyr were in traditional usage. Instead, the main cavern is largely filled with a collection of mismatched tables and chairs, with a trolley at the far end that contains a prodigious amount of liquor. Old, but still impressive, hangings cover the walls, all depicting scenes of High Reaches in glory. The back room has been turned into a storage area, with several cases of whisky and a variety of other spirits ready and waiting.

A strange pipe contraption comes through the ceiling and towards the stone floor, where a large bucket sits beneath it. A lever turns on water from the pipe: fresh rain or snow, ready for drinking.

----

It's mid-evening on the day between the 'threadfall' at High Reaches Hold, and the one scheduled for Tillek, when F'manis' Isplonath extends an invitation to Tsanth and D'nis' Bovinath. << We wanted to talk, >> he explains. << Cadejoth's rider and I wait. >> Where? He sketches out the mental picture - a ledge right up against the rim, too small to easily land upon, but oh-- there's a ladder, put out in wait. In the weyr, Taiga's Wingleader and Wingsecond wait, the bluerider standing, the bronzerider sitting atop one of the scattered tables, legs swinging, expression thoughtful.

Oh, fake threadfall. It's been fun. << We come. >> Tsanth's short reply comes, his normally friendly personality cut into something more terse. A ladder. Z'ian climbs it and enters the weyr, his eyes glancing around it. His bronze takes off, finding a spot on the bowl to land and ruminate some more on the paint he got on his hide. "Is this our new hangout, cheaper than the Snowasis?" The Boreal Wingleader jokes, hauling himself onto one of the tables and sitting in much the same way that K'del does.

D'nis takes a little longer, likely because Bovinath lands upon the ledge itself-- the brownrider is evidently not keen to try the ladder. "More or less," says F'manis, with a smirk, as he waves the brownrider in after Z'ian. "I never wanted to get rid of this place after I moved in with Ketzia; we've been using it for card games." It's K'del's follow-up that more effectively answers the question, made as he slides back to the floor to head for the trolley of drinks. "Seemed like maybe we could use a place: more private than the Snowasis. None of Taikrin's spies. It… seems like we're all on the same page, as far as she's concerned. Concerns, I mean."

"You've done a lot with the place." Z'ian remarks, directing a half smile in the direction of F'manis. He swings his legs and braces his hands against the wood of the table. D'nis makes his entrance and the bronzerider inclines his head towards him. "She doesn't trust anyone, she's paranoid." He bites absently on his lower lip, watching K'del as he moves across the room. "Sounds about right. I've been trying to walk the line, but it's getting to the point where it's tiring now." His head is given a shake and he inhales deeply.

"She's replacing me with Fayla. And K'tan." That's D'nis' contribution, following on directly after Z'ian's words, and tinged with bitterness. "It's not public, yet, but Fayla told me as much. Not that the wing doesn't still follow ''me'', all the same."

K'del brings the whisky bottle back with him, and a collection of glasses: as the lone Wingsecond, here, he seems determined to play the part of the staff, though he says, quietly, "Had an idea. H'kon, actually, made me think of it." ''H'kon''. "Frankly, I'm worried about what the Holds will say and do, in response to these thread drills. It's ''messy'', and it's not like most of them are thrilled with us to begin with."

Evidently, this idea is not news to F'manis, because he only gives his Wingsecond an approving nod. "We have to look out for our Wings, whatever she's doing. She can't fire and replace all of us, right?"

Z'ian cuts a glance in the direction of the brownrider, "K'tan." He repeats it to himself, like he's chewing over the name before taking another breath. "I expected as much. It was a tense conversation I had with her, about not putting one of her own people at the head of Iceberg. I guess she couldn't help herself from worming of them in there somewhere." He shakes his head, gaze absently drawn to K'del and watching him as he puts down the glasses. He doesn't disagree with the Holds likely getting pissed with paint and charred ropes all over their land. "What are you suggesting? We all just don't send our wings to the rest of these 'threadfalls'?"

D'nis is bitter, answering Z'ian's words with a nod. "And since when does the ''Weyrleader'' get to pick our Wingseconds? Not a real Weyrleader, and ''definitely'' not a fake one. That's wing business, not Weyr business." The brownrider looks utterly miserable, gaze dropping into the drink K'del passes him a moment later.

"That's one option," K'del confirms. "H'kon simply isn't showing up. Not sure if he has a 'reason', or what, but he said… it's a ''moral'' thing. And he's right. I was thinking… either we send barebones crew, just enough that our wings are represented, or, right, we don't go at all. Maybe we show up to the Holds and do cleanup, instead." He extends his arm, offering Z'ian one of the now-filled glasses.

F'manis sinks into one of the chairs, nursing ''his'' drink between both wrinkled hands. "I don't want to lose Taiga," he says, quietly. "You all know how hard I've worked, since K'vash retired. But I think we need to make a stand. The more people we can get behind us, the more of a profile we have in the Weyr. And more likely it is we can get our chosen Weyrleader candidate in the right position, when the time comes. ''He'' can then fix any wing problems." He pauses. "Whoever that Weyrleader candidate ends up being."

"Wing business is Weyr business. And you're the one that called her bluff. She was looking to get you out." Z'ian may sympathize with the emotions that D'nis is grappling with, but he's not here to coddle him while he complains about it either. "Take your damn wing back. If Iceberg is going to follow you, show up to the drills and lead. What's the worse that happens, you get re-demoted? Sent away? Whatever." He accepts the drink from K'del with a nod and brings it to his mouth, listening intently. "I think sending a barebones crew is... No. Show up to help clean up the mess, yes. Don't bother with skeleton wings." Taking a long draw of whiskey, he turns his attention over to F'manis. "No one wants to see you lose Taiga. Who do we have besides our three? What about Avalanche?"

D'nis' mouth tightens, but he doesn't argue the point, and instead downs half of his drink in a single gulp. Maybe that's what he needed, because, a moment later, he's nodding. "There's no reason I can't keep scheduling drills," he supposes. "''My'' drills. We'll see who shows up."

K'del moves back to his previous position, hoisting himself back up on to the table, and nods. "Right," he agrees. "We don't show up. But we help out the Holds, make an effort there. And-- I ''think'' Sisha's sympathetic. I know she was pleased to have a woman, but I get the impression she's… less pleased, now. I'll talk to her."

"Ketzia says Frostbite's not thrilled, either," puts in F'manis. "I'll see what we can do. But that's potentially four or five. Out of twelve. Is it enough? We definitely won't get Hailstorm, Snowdrift or Glacier, but ''some'' of the others must be up for grabs, surely."

Z'ian swings his legs again and as he lifts that glass to his mouth, drinking once more. "You were one of her riders for a long time. If anyone from here is going to get her to listen." His bet would be on K'del anyway. The brownrider downing half of his whiskey gets a nod, a small smile. "No reason at all. It's probably what I would do. What we might all end up needing to do. I don't think they could transfer all of us away anyway. Troublesome riders aren't exactly a hot ticket to sell." The bronzerider lifts his shoulders. "Maybe we're not thinking about it the right away. Glacier isn't just Taikrin's Glacier. There are other riders in that wing, older riders. It was N'thei's wing before it was hers. A'son is in that wing. Leova. There are others, riders that might just be looking for a chance to step out of line. It may be the same for the other wings." He lets the idea sit for a moment while he thinks about. "Some here and some there. Fractured. ''That'' could be enough."

"I'll give it a try," says K'del, sounding both thoughtful and pleased, despite the relative seriousness of his demeanour otherwise. "I'll-- ''oh''. What if… our wings don't show up, tomorrow. And then we pass the word that no one should feel obligated, after that? You're right: that old guard won't see the point. Glacier was always the low-impact wing, as far as duties go. And for riders who fought 'fall…"

K'del trails off, but D'nis picks it up: "This mock threadfall feels like a travesty. A game. Making problems with the Holds for no reason at all except to make Taikrin feel important. We have to keep the skills, of course we do, but exercises like this… they're a waste of resources. Of firestone."

F'manis, idly: "I wonder how Lord Aughan will feel, seeing us waste so much firestone in one hit."

Z'ian evidently hadn't thought of that before. "It is a waste. It's not as if firestone goes bad, it could be saved for turns before we needed it." That bothers him somehow more than the big waste of time the entire thing has been. He rubs his face, looking between his fingers at F'manis. "Yeah, I wonder. It would be a real shame for Taikrin if someone pointed out the travesty of it to him." Glancing over to K'del, "If we all didn't show up, they might not too. And the other riders might not care for ''us'' but they'll notice them. It could give us something."

Abruptly, K'del laughs. "Do you remember a few turns back, when that group of riders tried to organise that… sit-in, or whatever? In protest of Iolene. They all just sat around on their ledges, doing nothing, and we had to bring in the queens to get them up. Never thought I'd be on the other side of it. But there's a time limit on this; don't think it'd work. Not to get us all there in time. Not like you can compel ''riders''."

F'manis straightens, giving K'del a long, meaningful glance as he speaks, though it's to Z'ian that he actually aims his words, a moment later. "Sounds like we've got the beginnings of a plan, then. A few words in Lord Aughan's ear - that'll be up to you, K'del; you know him better than the rest of us - and as for the riders, let the ideas spread. No wastage. ''Some'' of us care about our relationships with the Holds."

D'nis rises from his seat, moving towards the bottle. He refills his glass, listening to the others in thoughtful silence. "We're in. It's about time we did something productive about all of this. It's obvious that trying to talk sense is ''not'' going to work."

"Like herding cats sometimes." Z'ian agrees as he finishes the glass off, letting it hang between his fingers. He watches the long glance that falls between the two Taiga riders, taking it in for all that he doesn't interrupt it. When F'manis speaks to him, his gaze swings towards the older rider again. "Done. Boreal is restless anyway, they're all too ready to spread the word." To D'nis, sounding almost regretful. "No, it won't. She's not able to trust ''anyone.'' And surrounds herself with yes men."

A trio of nods follow, one from each of the riders. But it's K'del who speaks, next, his words low and uncomfortable. "There's people who've been looking for me to stand up and be a figurehead," he says. "But I'm not-- I won't be. I'm involved as Taiga's Wingsecond, but as I see it, the three of you have a more visible role than I do, and that's as it should be. A brownrider, a bluerider, a bronzerider. Be even better if we can get Sisha: a greenrider. But this… it's a move from the ''wings''. I'm… tarnished. Taikrin and Aishani both hate me, and it's not like my reputation for stability is, uh, at an all time high. So. You tell me what you need, and I'll follow."

Dragon> It's like a distant sensation - a heat that hovers at the edge of his awareness. It's distracting, in that stuck-under-your-skin itch-you-can't-scratch way. It feels like Isyath and yet not like her at all. (To Cadejoth from Isyath)

Dragon> The rattle and clank of Cadejoth's thoughts answer that distant sensation, that distraction that captures his attention ''so'' intently. It births a buzz and spark, an electric current that zips through his thoughts, dancing from this link to that. Buzz. Buzz. BUZZ. He's come alive, now: he's on notice. (To Isyath from Cadejoth)

Z'ian isn't the type to interrupt K'del when he makes this announcement. He drops his eyes and looks up from a lowered gaze, sweeping it in the direction of Taiga's Wingleader and then to D'nis, watching for their reactions. He clears his throat, "As I see it, I don't think that we need to have a figurehead right now. If there's no ringleader there isn't anyone for them to point a finger at, which might be for the best." The bronzerider straightens again, the empty glass still hanging between his fingers. He glances over at F'manis, "Unless it seems necessary?" But he can't think of a reason why it would have to be so right now.

The other two riders are silent as K'del speaks, though D'nis looks ready to say ''something''-- something that a sharp glance from F'manis quells. "Z'ian's right," confirms the bluerider, abruptly, as he sets his empty glass down upon the table next to him. "No figureheads, nothing like that. Which is why we've got to be careful about not coming across too much like a conspiracy, the whole group of us."

(K'del is notably silent, maybe even awkwardly so.)

F'manis continues: "We can meet here, whenever we need to. Or use our dragons to pass information. And if there's other people you think might have good ideas… let them know about this place. But keep it small, for now. The more people who know something, the more chance there is of someone getting wind of things."

Dragon> The heat rises in intensity- pleased at the attention, her stars buzzing around, reacting to every rattling chain and buzzing sensation. The feel of the last of the summer's warm thermals is under her wings, the Weyr a distant memory beneath her, flight endless. (To Cadejoth from Isyath)

Dragon> To Isyath, Cadejoth, too, rises in flight. There's no summer to be found in ''his'' skies, but that doesn't make them any less perfect-- he shares, now, the sense of each muscle, and how they work together to propel him forward; just so. Her stars gleam in his skies, and his flight turns: they're so very far apart, these star-crossed (not) lovers, but his compass points south. Towards ''her''.

D'nis. Z'ian shoots a look in his direction, but he keeps his silence for now. He defers to F'manis' lead in this, trusting to the older rider's experience. The empty glass ends upside down on the table beside him. "Not just ones with good ideas, ones that know how to keep quiet too." He agrees, nodding his head simply. "Agreed." Now, he lets his gaze slide to K'del, observing the awkward silence from the younger bronzerider.

Dragon> To Cadejoth, Isyath revels in that- that reflection, that symmetry, and that silent, miles-apart dance they do in their own skies. Abruptly, however, the heat and the sense of her fades, Ali's presence strong in her thoughts as she does so, like her rider is making her /behave/.

"Good," says K'del, hastily, recovering his composure. There's something irritated in his expression, but it ''seems'' to be inwardly focused, more likely to be some kind of internal self-castigation than frustration with anyone else. Still, at least until ''this'', he's been more like his old self, the capable leader self, otherwise. Not crazy-pants. Which is something. "Good. We're agreed, then."

F'manis, at least, seems to have some amount of sympathy for his Wingsecond, and draws attention back onto himself by saying, "I think we all know what we've got to work on, then. And where to start. Unless there's anything else?"

D'nis holds his silence.

Dragon> Alas. Behaving is ''boring''. Still: at least she gets to fly! And so does he. Somewhere, out there. (To Isyath from Cadejoth)

It's sort of uncomfortable. But Z'ian is quiet as the moment comes and passes, riding it out until the other bronzerider speaks again. He smiles crookedly before he pushes off of the table, landing onto his feet. "Yes, I think so. Spread the word without drawing attention to ourselves personally, etc..." There's an expectant look as he glances from one man to the other, listening for anything else.

K'del looks, for a moment, like he'd like to say something else-- blurt it out, maybe. But the moment passes, and he shakes his head. It's F'manis who says, "In that case, let's call it meeting adjourned. And we'll keep each other posted."

Viva la resistance!

Cinco De Mayo!

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 | gamedate = 2013.05.03
 | quote = "Is this our new hangout, cheaper than the Snowasis?"
 | weather =
 | categories = Divided Leadership

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 {{Log
 |type=Log
 | who = D'nis, F'manis, Ali{{!}}Isyath, K'del, Z'ian

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 | what = The leaders of three wings meet to discuss resistance.
 | when = Day 8, Month 9, Turn 31
 | gamedate = 2013.05.03
 | quote = "Is this our new hangout, cheaper than the Snowasis?"

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 ----
-It's mid-evening on the day between the 'threadfall' at High Reaches Hold, and the one scheduled for Tillek, when F'manis' Isplonath extends an invitation to Tsanth and D'nis' Bovinath. << We wanted to talk, >> he explains. << Cadejoth's rider and I wait. >> Where? He sketches out the mental picture - a ledge right up against the rim, too small to easily land upon, but oh-- there's a ladder, put out in wait. In the weyr, Taiga's Wingleader and Wingsecond wait, the bluerider standing, the bronzerider sitting atop one of the scattered tables, legs swinging, expression thoughtful.
+It's afternoon on the day between the 'threadfall' at High Reaches Hold, and the one scheduled for Tillek, when F'manis' Isplonath extends an invitation to Tsanth and D'nis' Bovinath. << We wanted to talk, >> he explains. << Cadejoth's rider and I wait. >> Where? He sketches out the mental picture - a ledge right up against the rim, too small to easily land upon, but oh-- there's a ladder, put out in wait. In the weyr, Taiga's Wingleader and Wingsecond wait, the bluerider standing, the bronzerider sitting atop one of the scattered tables, legs swinging, expression thoughtful.
 Oh, fake threadfall. It's been fun. << We come. >> Tsanth's short reply comes, his normally friendly personality cut into something more terse. A ladder. Z'ian climbs it and enters the weyr, his eyes glancing around it. His bronze takes off, finding a spot on the bowl to land and ruminate some more on the paint he got on his hide. "Is this our new hangout, cheaper than the Snowasis?" The Boreal Wingleader jokes, hauling himself onto one of the tables and sitting in much the same way that K'del does.