Difference between revisions of "Logs:You can ask..."

The space between dragon consciousnesses is strange. Not unlike the natural bizarrity that is *between*. It can seem as infinite as the space between stars or near as the shining facets of a gossamer spinner's eye. Across this curious distance, a tickle of an ooze-capped wave rolls gently towards Iesaryth's mind. It is a unspoken question: is she available? (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

There's always a whisper of ocean in the space that binds the dragons of High Reaches together, as loose and broad as it is these days - but so too is the sea, and it is still one thing, for all that it covers so much, hides so much in its depths. Iesaryth has only a little of that mysteriousness; her rider has enough for both of them, so if sun is bright on the waves for the gleaming wave that is Rasavyth, it is genuine. She is free, there is usually some little piece of her mind to at least acknowledge the bronze, but this time, she must ask: « Me, or she? » Amused. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

In the way that some of the other dragonets have hero-worship for Hraedhyth, Rasavyth's excitement borders on the fanatical for gaining Iesaryth's attention. It is a small piece of his youthfulness that he has not yet shed. He does manage to keep the excitement bridled, however, even as foamy horses run atop eager waves, rushing to meet her. It's a tempered excitement not well hiding the greater feeling beneath. « You! Well, and this time also she. My K'zin wishes to ask if she would have time and be willing to meet with him. He is curious. I am grateful for the chance of an exchange with you. » The tenor bubbles a little with shimmery ooze. (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

Dividing her attention is never difficult; the bronze's youthful excitement seems to entertain her for such a little thing. Iesaryth's customarily mellow mood is untouched by troubles today, not a cloud on the ocean's blue, endless horizon, and there's bubbly seafoam for the waves that rush to meet her blue-green tide. « I am always here. » Salt-touched breezes and the crash of the tide. But his is curious so she is curious, immediately, sharply. « Is he curious? Or are you? Or both? » It seems important, but even so; « She would find time for her riders, she says. » Formal. There's images that flicker: council room, just outside the queen's weyrs, the bowl, the lake, as if suggestions. So easy to arrange these things with dragons. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

« Ah, yes! » Rasavyth is quick to agree on her omnipresence. « But I am not always here with you. » This seems to be the critical difference between all the time and now. Now that he's assured he has some time with her attention, the eagerness of waves begin to taper off, settling to something more reasonable, more mature. « He is curious. I am curious. We are curious. Though somewhat in different ways. » This last comes as a little purr. « I met Tacuseth. It was enlightening. » He shares briefly flashes of his experience with the blue; the understanding of light and dark, his grasp on the great game beginning to grow. (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

The bronze has gained in his ability to split his focus, for moments later comes the quiet acceptance: « My K'zin will meet your Aishani there. » There is the council room. « He goes now. » (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

« There is that. » Iesaryth can allow there is a difference. « It does help to pay attention. » She's amused again, but there's always some of that beneath her light tenor, as if there's some sort of joke that only she's aware of. The ocean's waves don't change, but there's a brightness on the water for curiosity, but that kind of interest. « Differences are important. For seeing what you don't. » As for Tacuseth, there's recognition of what he shows, some warmth for the blue. She is very much the sun to the blue's shadow; perhaps the same for her rider, if such parallels can yet be drawn. And as for Shan: « She will be there. » It's not far. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr

At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest.

Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention.

A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.

Silvery trails of thought swim just beneath the forefront of Rasavyth's mind, excitement occasionally flipping one up and out of the water, briefly seen before vanishing again. « I am curious more for technical details and how I might better serve my Queen, » Her. « My K'zin's interests are more matters of heart than head. » That is something that seems to annoy the young bronze to some degree, or perhaps annoyance is too strong a word. Perhaps it's that he pities his rider for that particular brand of weakness? (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

These sort of meetings are the kinds of things that happen when you give weyrlings free time. Lessons and lectures are done for the day, even extra lessons and lectures as K'zin is needing remedial help on his knowledge of local and world history, or so the weyrlingmasters' reports will have noted. He is, in fact, freshly bathed and dressed in a fresh set of work clothes, since weyrlings never know when an oiling or feeding will be needed with not enough time to change. His hair is half-dried, hanging straightly around the long planes and angles of his face and jaw. His expression is serious, more serious that most he wears. He waits at the edge of the meeting table, standing, fingers trailing on the tabletop, eyes skipping around the room, taking it all in. His waiting is patient and quiet.

The fish that dart through Iesaryth's oceans dodge the strands of Rasavyth's thought, though there's that keen interest even in the gold's thoughts, skimming by and around them as they flip in and out, disappear. And it's her arrogance that allows her to be so easily flattered by that apparent allegiance. It only makes sense. « What details would you know? » She knows it is difficult to wait. As for matters of the heart, « They are important, if only for balance. They'd be different people without... emotion. » For all that hers appears to have little. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

It really doesn't take Aishani terribly long to come into the chambers, brisk footfalls likely audible long before she actually enters; it's soon enough that she likely was nearby, but not so soon that the weyrling should go around feeling like the Weyrwoman is available at his beck and call or anything of the like. But she does turn up, dressed relatively casually for her, and thankfully for K'zin, in pants and not some obscenely short skirt. When she enters, she barely glances over to the table where he stands before heading for the bar. "Evening." It's pleasant enough despite that. "If I ask you if you've had your 'one alcoholic beverage' for the day, will you lie about it?"

To Iesaryth, Rasavyth is never so easily distracted as he is when speaking with Iesaryth. His interest in each and every thought, idea, or nuance that skates past or through his thoughts is a cause for attention to flicker and follow. The individual fish that blipped his fast-flitting thoughts are becoming schools. In those schools, complex patterns begin to form as fish move hither and yon, weaving in and out and around one another. « I am curious to understand what is happening with the leadership of this Weyr. » With Iesaryth, he is direct. Other dragons get fancy words and shadows of intention but for the gold, he offers plain speech (though still accompanied by his oozy omnipresent charm). « I am curious to understand what has happened with the leadership of the past, and what happens moving forward to my future. » Was that a little possessive of the future? Perhaps a bit. But he's two months old now, he's learned to share!

If only K'zin knew how grateful he should be to the inventor of trousers. He turns, hearing the approaching footsteps, hands going behind his back for a moment until she comes into view. He offers her a fairly crisp salute (it could use a little work), before he's nervously chewing his lower lip. Without a dragon to embolden him, it's likely he never would have asked to meet with Aishani, but here he is. At her question, he hesitates and then simply nods. "I will." His eyes flit up and around the room again before returning to the woman. "I've never been in here, not in all my turns." It's a casual tidbit of idle chit-chat. "Looks like a nice place to work." He continues. Then, abruptly, "Permission to speak freely, Weyrwoman Aishani? This is rather a more personal call than work-related, for me." His cheeks color a touch at admitting that.

There's so many little thoughts on the surface, simple enough to catch: the shadow of a massive brown in one, far away and a concern for some reason, a puzzle, an opportunity all at once; the image of another place, another bowl well into spring, viewed from a high, narrow familiar ledge there; whispers of Tacuseth's, Tsanth's that have to do with leading, in some ways - less right and wrong than how far. How soon. When. It would be easy to get distracted, easy for the queen herself to be lost in thought. Perhaps that's why Iesaryth is so fond of sitting on her ledge and watching, or the high rim above. His presumption, possession is still amusing; it's not yet like Cadejoth's net, so irritating. « Hraedhyth and I lead the Weyr. » And such it has been and will be until one or the other truly is the Queen. « But... people do not accept that. They find such arrangements discomfiting. » There is a pause before, possibly anticipating, « All I remember of Ysavaeth is Shan's. » But that's not totally true, there are things she learned from the other gold. Things that stuck. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

Turning, with a glass in hand already, Aishani arches fine brows with a faint amusement that might echo her lifemate's, were she entirely aware of it. "You'll have a drink, or you'll lie about it?" Dark eyes are brightened as she clarifies, then she looks back to the alcove, gesturing with her glass-hand. "There's wine and liquor, but that's about it. No sense in keeping things cold unless there's someone expected." After a small sip from her glass, a smirk, "It's a nice place for a lot of things." Her gaze flickers over to the big chair at the head of the table, then it shifts to K'zin. Regarding him steadily, "That's a dangerous thing for me to be giving, these days. But... within reason, certainly."

To Iesaryth, Rasavyth projects, « He's two months old. He's cute. There's no way around it. « Of course, you and Hraedhyth lead the Weyr. » There is no question of this in the young bronze's mind. « But, the rest of it... » Flashes of bronze and brown full grown dragons parade in the guise of jumping fishies. « Do you truly feel a brown has all that is needed to assist one such as yourself in leading? » His tone is pure curiosity, no judgment, and the way that he says brown is so flatly neutral that it's likely too neutral to not be telling that his deeper opinion on the matter is set (of course, it should be a bronze!). »

"I will lie about it. If lying is what gets me a drink." K'zin's brow furrows, "I get headaches. An extra drink helps." It's not exactly an admission of rule breaking, but he has to have had some experience that say it does, doesn't he? "And you're intimidating. To me. So I'm sure a drink would help with that too." He swallows a bit hard, those nerves having found their way to balling up in his throat. His gaze follows her to the chair, but clearly his brain doesn't follow towards any of the things she might mean. "I promise I mean you no disrespect. I just--" Deep breath. Courage, man! "I'm trying to understand some things. And some of them aren't my business to understand other than they matter to people I care about." His fingers fidget at his sides. "And Rasavyth likes Iesaryth very much. So I thought-- I thought I should make an effort to-- to get to know you, and she. A bit. If you don't mind?" His manner now is not exactly coltish, but it's far from confident. He really is asking a question, and probably expecting her to decline.

There must be due consideration of this. Iesaryth, at the the image, is certainly entertained, but does have to illustrate that, in the case of her flight, things were somewhat... limited. All of the bronze and brown flashes disappear but for two; one of each. As for assistance... does she need it? « The wings... seem uncertain. » She has to admit that. It was not the way she would have liked things to go, nor her rider, but what can one do when it is done? « We will not make the mistake again. » Whether it will matter or not by then is the question. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

"I'm told I'm intimidating to a lot of people." That doesn't bother Aishani. It's likely kept her where she is and not in any worse trouble since she's made her announcement; it's likely done a lot of things for her. When she comes to the table finally, she has a second glass to slide down the table to K'zin. Since he didn't specify, it looks to be whatever she's drinking - which will turn out to be dark rum. Standing there a moment, head tilted as she watches the young man, she shrugs his way eventually, finally. "If you mean no disrespect, then you're not likely to cause an issue. And I always say... you can ask. It doesn't mean I have to answer. Though I'll admit, many don't ask. They'd rather assume." As for the gold... that brings a fond smile, quite warm, unlike most of her faint ones. "She's very likable, Iesaryth." And she sits, crossing long legs, looking K'zin's way expectantly. Well?

The sensation of whether or not she needs assistance catches Rasavyth's interest. « Is that not how the stories are told? A gold flies fast, far, and with passion. Bronze and brown are enthralled and compelled to chase, » He bespeaks the words, but there is a void of understanding behind the words. No one has yet blessed him with a personal account of flights, only the human version. « The best catches, there are eggs and he who catches helps assemble the wings and bear the load that leadership assigns your lifemate? » It's the classic bronze meets gold story, without any of the exciting details. « The wings are accustomed to following a bronze leader. » Beat. « Perhaps with the interval, it is not necessary, but tradition has a life of its own. It may prove more difficult to kill than the trouble caused by the act. » He ruminates theory only, inexperienced with the practical application. (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

« We were away. Not here. » Iesaryth has a flash of a sandy spit, a curve of greenery, islands nearby and endless ocean, a heavy drowsy sensation that sits in her limbs, her wings. There's a bronze of molten glass next to her, more sensed than felt, the warmth and flash of metal in ocean's mindspace. Vhaeryth. « I do not remember much of it, she remembers... less. » But there was flying, yes... though this particular bronze-meets-gold story was foiled, as her clutch and his classmates can attest. And though she can allow that the help would be nice for her lifemate, « We had hoped there could be change. We still hope that. But... yes. Tradition proves resistant and timing has not always been... perfect. » Theory is fine for the queen, that is what she trades in before action. Who does she have to take action but her Aishani? (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

K'zin leans to claim the glass, smiling a small thanks in the direction of the older woman. He stares at it a long moment before taking a long sip, swallowing a few moments later. Once he's had his sip, he moves to take the chair next to her. Intimidating as he might find her, at least he's finding the courage to come near. He pulls out the chair and settles. "Those sound like fair enough terms." He agrees. His drink slides back onto the table before elbows find his knees and hands clasp in front of him, having turned the chair to face the Weyrwoman before he sat. He makes sure there's enough polite space between them so as not to be uncomfortably personal with the woman he barely knows. "I like Iesaryth, too." He begins, likely hoping this will break the ice. "Rasavyth doesn't find many he relates to or feels understood by. It is-- nice to know that there's at least one." He chews his lower lip a moment, and then simply asks. "How are you?" Beat. "Since everything. Zay thought maybe not many people have bothered to ask. I thought I would."

All things, as ever, are taken in with interest, lines of shimmery clear ooze casting out to hook into each thought and in a counter of the usual use for fishing poles, this time, the lines are used to draw the thoughts below the surface. The thing that interests him most is the thing that he fixates on: change. He keeps the idea bobbing on the surface of his watery reflection, ooze-covered now. If Iesaryth looks closely, she will find that the ooze is not really liquid at all, but a curious combination of miniscule, clear, insectoids moving as one, but not buzzing like bugs of the normal sense, but instead having slight metallic clickings and tickings as they seamlessly form any shape Rasavyth's mind has need to make. « What kind of change is it that you and your Aishani hope for? » (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

Perhaps Aishani's a little surprised that K'zin's managed to come so near as to sit next to her, to face her right on. She only betrays it in a momentary blink as he takes the chair, though it doesn't seem to bother her; quite the opposite - she leans back in her seat, swinging her boot idly, tilting her glass his way before taking a sip. Maybe she's impressed. "Her likability was terribly useful when she was younger. I found out an awful lot that way." Looking over her glass, thoughtful, "I suppose he might not. Feel understood otherwise. Iesaryth was very much... herself when she hatched. It was a struggle, but she's not as... she's very laid back." For Azaylia's nickname, there's a small, sad smile that comes and goes. "I hope she's all right. Actually... people have. And I've been... different, but very much the same. I don't suppose that makes sense, but it's the best I can do."

Fascinated! Iesaryth would have a microscope if she could. She examines the strange bio-mechanics of Rasavyth's mind like a programmer running over lines of code. Interesting. How does it all work? It's very nearly enough to take her from the conversation entirely, but she comes back to it, if distracted, vague. « Some of it is things that Ysavaeth's would have liked. So many live here without any say in their lives because they do not ride. It is not right. » A pause. « As for Szadath's, few else would take the job, and so many would criticize, only for her past. » One could see how Aishani might feel some sympathy there; her lifemate as well. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

K'zin looks a trifle surprised as Aishani terms the likability 'useful' and explains that people told her things as a result. It takes a few moments of silence on his part to fully digest it. Even then, he probably misses a lot of what it means. It's shamefully true that his lifemate is the vastly smarter of the two. He sits up, reaching for his glass as a way to steady his nerves after those words. "Zay is-- okay. She's-- hurt." He doesn't say it, but it doesn't need to be said 'who wouldn't be?' "She did give me advice on how I might break the ice with you. And she did say I should ask how you were. Maybe I'm as close to talking to you herself as she can get without getting angry. Maybe. She has people who are being there for her. As I'm sure you do." Then it's time for another spit out question: "Is it true that you want revenge? On the Weyr? I-I think you care more for the Weyr than to abuse it for revenge, but--" He adds his opinion quickly and quietly, to likely pre-empt the idea that the vengefulness is his.

They're always there, as omnipresent as his ooze. But they're hard to nail down. Hard to study. Being transparent, and only really visible when the shimmer touches them, they're hard to see to begin with. And that shimmer? It hops so quickly from spot to spot within his touch. « What would Ysavaeth's have liked? » There is a pause on his part then to consider. « Past is past. » This does not mean to imply that he approves of Szadath taking leadership, though. There is blankness on that opinion. « Is it not the purpose of a Headwoman and Steward to speak for the people of the Weyr who do not ride? Is that not enough? » His tone is simply curious. He's just asking questions, trying to understand. (Rasavyth to Iesaryth)

For the surprise, Aishani merely smiles. And perhaps to do K'zin a little favor - maybe his dragon is helping him out after all! - "Other dragons, in other places, are sometimes remarkably patient and helpful to curious younger dragons with an interest in how things work and what's happening. It stopped working when she rose, but. It might do him some good. If you find out anything interesting, do tell me?" And there might be her real purpose. But his next gives her reason to drink, to purse her lips and sigh, put her now-empty glass aside to stare at it. "That was expected. I know... Azaylia puts a lot of stock in the truth. I tried to stay away, and I tried to tell her. And then I did my best not to get her hurt. She has a right to be angry. But I'm not sorry. Not for what I did before. And not after." There's a sidelong glance for the question spit out, and she takes her time in answering. "When I came here, I wanted different things than I want now. But I came to realize that destroying things for everyone here would be just like... what was done to me. I won't do that. I already condemned a man when I made a promise..." She stops, and just shakes her head. "No. I know who to blame."

It's intriguing to Iesaryth, who files away snapshots for later study. And she has to think about that, the fish moving beneath the waves. « I am not sure that she knew, only something different. Everything we knew seemed wrong to her, had always seemed wrong in some ways to mine. » If Rasavyth is content to skip over matters of disagreement, of the past, she is likewise. She's not looking for conflict. « They supervise. And perhaps technically, but what of those with crafts? They only report to their superiors, yet they can live their whole lives here. » The Weyrhealer is imaged, the most prominent example. « Some say they would like to speak. To feel as if they know what's happening. As if they are heard. » And that's the main thing, really. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

K'zin looks a little puzzled by her words, but accepts them, brows dipping slightly. He nods. "Yes. They like to talk to him." Beat. "A-alright. I will." If he's ever privy to the interesting stuff. A hand moves to ruffle through his shortened locks. "I'm-- trying to be there for her. Remember when I asked about dates back when I was a candidate? It was for Azaylia." He frowns slightly, then shrugs off whatever thought caused it, taking a drink. "I think I understand now what you meant about dating being different for dragonriders." He considers her words carefully, brown eyes examining her face as she speaks and after. "I believe you. For whatever that's worth." Then he grows quiet, expression solemn. Quietly, he asks further, rather than assume: "Who is to blame? How should they pay?" His tone betrays fear for the possible (perhaps likely) answer.

To Iesaryth, Rasavyth's touch flickers into a static moment, back in motion the next. « It seems to me that there should be any number of ways to improve the situation, if that is the desire of your Aishani. » There's hesitation and his waves recede slightly, pulling back from their mingle with her greater ocean. « In some ways, though, does it not follow that there is more ways things can go amiss with more minds in charge? »

"Thank you." Aishani doesn't look terribly confident about getting anything interesting or useful at this point, but can she be blamed? She looks from her glass back to K'zin, slouching down in her chair, boot swinging again. It takes her a moment or two to figure out what he's talking about, but eventually; "Ah, yes. Well, then. I think... it's perhaps less dragonriders than there's a greater likelihood of differences in... what constitutes dating at a Weyr. Not that I'm an expert." There's a bare smirk for his belief, her tone only a little dry when she says, "And again, thank you so much." And instead of answering his question, she shifts to lean forward suddenly, elbows on knees, dark gaze sharply focused. "Think about this, and consider asking that again. And do take your time with it: if someone murdered your father, destroyed your home and left you to die in poverty, what would be an appropriate payment, in your mind? What would be enough for your childhood, your family, your life? Twelve turns. What would that be worth to you?" A pause, and she's on her feet faster than she looks like she can move, glass in hand. "I think that's enough question and answer for the evening."

This is where Iesaryth is not necessarily dishonest, but certainly evasive; « There are things we hope to do and things we consider. It is... difficult. » There are many pieces moving, as Rasavyth mentioned before, in this larger game - external pressures, opinions are sometimes near as important as those from within. « And yes. It does. Though greater order can come from chaos. And... » This is something the queen likes less, but agrees with: « Shan says it matters little whether they have any true effect or not. The importance is the belief that they do. » (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

The multiple thank yous put K'zin on edge. The first one less than the second. When she suddenly leans in, he's left blinking, dumbfounded in the wake of her words. His breath catches before it begins flowing once more, this time deeper and more steadily than before. There in his eyes is a strange look, a look of intelligence they don't usually bear. "I'm sorry, Weyrwoman." His words are abruptly formal. "It was inconsiderate of me to ask. To pry. Please do let me know if we can be of help to you." The look, the we, it is all significant of just how much influence Rasavyth is exerting over his rider in this moment. "We won't take up any more of your valuable time." His tone is painfully polite as he rises gracefully. He salutes formally before turning on his heel, heading for the bowl.

Firmly, "Don't apologize, K'zin. I meant that. Think about it." Shani's gone back to the alcove, but she's not pouring a drink just yet, if at all. There might be a flicker of a look back over her shoulder that catches the salute, the turn. Her wave could maybe construed as a salute in return, if you're really loose with those definitions. It wouldn't pass Meara's muster, that's for damn sure. "Good evening, weyrling." Her last might be formal in return, but it's polite for polite - and it's likely easier, anyway.

To Iesaryth, Rasavyth doesn't chase the evasive answers. He simply lets it be. In point of fact, he's distracted suddenly. In another betrayal of his youth, his distress bleeds to the Queen. It's the distress of his rider he reacts to. Not only is there distress, but there is anger. His anger is strong - like his mind. The transparent ooze turns an acrid, sickening black, ooze turning from gentle warmth to a choking sludge. His mind touch withdraws from the ocean of blue. It's not Iesaryth's fault, but she's linked so intimately with the source of the distress, the anger, he simply cannot stay. There is some tiny part of him that is apologetic, but control is something he is still learning and he simply doesn't have it yet.

There's not shock at the distress, but mild surprise; Iesaryth doesn't argue or seek to find out what the source of Rasavyth's sudden anger is, despite curiosity - it's not in her to pry. There are certain things she respects, and privacy - perhaps oddly - is one of them. She understands, she allows him to withdraw - but the sound of the ocean follows even so, soothing and quiet into the night. (Iesaryth to Rasavyth)

Comments

Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 30 Mar 2013 22:14:07 GMT.

K'zin (Rasazin?) asking the hard questions! Both conversations were pretty fascinating to read.