Difference between revisions of "Logs:Ignorant and Backward"

Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr

Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender.

Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts.

Most of the snow from the first couple of falls has melted by now, but the weather at High Reaches being what it is, many of the weyr's residents have already shifted their evening patterns in favour of spending more time in the Common Room, where it's nice and warm. Given the busyness, it's perhaps no wonder that Madilla hesitates on her way out from her own quarters, as if debating the wiseness of joining the throng, but she evidently makes up her mind in favour of carrying on, because, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder, she makes her way across the room in search of an empty seat.

Nose in what looks to be a very battered book, its spine losing thread and pages crumpled at the edges, Addiene sits in a comfy chair by the hearth, only occasionally looking up from worn pages to offer a response whenever she's addressed. It's as she answers the latest enquiry from someone vacating the seat next to her that she glances away long enough to catch sight of Madilla. Remembering to bid her present company farewell, she then lifts one hand as though to attract attention and nods towards the now empty seat. "There's space here if you're looking," she calls, smiling.

The offer seems to surprise Madilla, her step caught short as her attention rushes towards Addiene; despite this, it's nothing less than a genuine smile that settles onto her face as she adjusts her path. "Thank you," she tells the harper, as she sinks herself into the empty seat. "I always forget how crowded it can get in here as the weather turns." Her bag gets drawn into her lap and held there, the healer pausing then to give Addiene a thoughtful glance before she adds, "I don't believe we've been introduced. Madilla - Journeyman Healer." She's got a flash of pride in her expression for the rank; it's obviously still relatively new.

"Addiene, Journeyman Harper," is the prompt response, Addiene's voice bright enough to match her smile. "Addie. Nice to meet you, Madilla." She closes her book - for now, at least - a stray thread from its spine used as a bookmark and leans to peer about the room as though she hasn't really looked at it for however long she's been sat at the hearth. "Does it get worse?" she asks, presumably meaning the crowding. "Does it turn into a three in a seat affair?" Quirking a quick grin, she assures, "I'm just kidding. Well, about the last bit. I think I am, anyway."

Though Addiene's last remark makes Madilla laugh, she makes her response mock-seriously; "Sometimes even four to a seat... but only during blizzards." Unable to keep a smile from her face, she continues in a merry kind of way, "Nice to meet you, too, Addiene." Beat. "Addie. Most people actually end up spreading out more, as winter continues. Using some of the other rooms. But this kind of crowd is pretty normal throughout the winter. You must be new." Now, she begins to draw her things from the bag: a stack of patchwork pieces, a needle, thread.

Taking her cue from Madilla's mock-seriousness, Addiene replies in much the same vein, "Four to a seat? I'll have to be sure to wander through when there's next a blizzard to observe this strange cultural phenomenon. Just to observe, of course." She nods and drags back a stray strand of hair that gets dislodged by the movement. "I'm new, yes," she confirms. "Originally from Fort Hold, but I think of the Hall as home, really. I've not spent more than a couple of days in a Weyr before, though I /think/ I'm adjusting okay. Give me another seven or two and I'll tell you then, I guess."

That first remark makes Madilla laugh again, though she apparently lacks a suitably witty response to it, and instead lets that topic drop. Threading her needle as she talks, she tips her head up towards Addiene again to say, "Welcome to High Reaches, then. I remember how-- peculiar it all was. Different." A little more shyly, she adds, "I've been here four turns, but I was at the Hall - the /Healer/ hall - for a little while before that, and that was different enough from my home that... it's always an adjustment, I think. It can take time."

"Thank you," Addiene responds a little more quietly, curling up in her seat a touch more. "If you don't mind my asking, were you from another Weyr or a Hold before your time at Healer? I had half a dozen people telling me horror stories about going from one world to another before I left and I thought it can't be /that/ bad, because /everywhere/ is going to be different from somewhere else. And... well, you can't always stay somewhere forever." Another look; another glance back more at the people present than surroundings. "Not much of what I was told has turned out to be true so far."

"I was from a tiny little hold some distance from Peyton," reports Madilla, with a wry set to her expression. "Which is probably about as different to the weyr as-- anything every could be, I think." Needle threaded, she reaches for her patchwork, ducking her head back down to commence work. "I imagine you're right, that everywhere is going to be different. I've not much experience of different weyrs and different large holds, but I should imagine there are... peculiarities to each." She glances back up after a moment, and then adds, "I think that's often the way, though. Things not being what people tell you."

Addiene dips her head, conveying some sort of understanding of that reply. "But you're happy here, despite the differences? The way some of them were going on, it's as if you're not allowed to like somewhere else. Made me feel guilty for wanting to go." She wrinkles her nose and lifts her left shoulder in a half-effort at a shrug, features smoothed back out again by the time she says, "I think you're right. What reasons people have for exaggerating outside of stories and work sometimes, I don't know. I suppose that they think they're right in their assumptions and want more people 'on their side'."

Madilla's firm, determined nod comes long before she actually answers Addiene in words; she's silent throughout the rest of what the Harper has to say, before, finally, she concludes, "I think people are scared of different things. The weyr /is/ different... there's no doubt about that. But the fundamentals remain the same; I think they just get lost in the surface differences." She spreads her work flat, needle working through it at an easy pace. "I am happy, yes. It's become home, though, of course, the place one come from is generally always home, too, if in a different way."

"Scared..." Addiene echoes after a few moments of silence, her head tilted and eyes glassy and distant. A blink and she's back, nodding as she speaks. "Scared of looking beneath that surface, too." Her fingers drum quietly against the cover of her book, a move unnoticed until the sound registers and the Journeyman soon stops, flashing a quick, rueful smile. "My family aren't at Fort anymore... I don't know whether that's why it doesn't feel right. I can't remember a time when they didn't encourage learning, however, so perhaps that's a sort of home - the learning, the teaching," she considers quietly. Her gaze falls to Madilla's work, following the needle for a second or two. "What're you making?"

"That, yes," agrees Madilla, of the 'looking beneath the surface' comment, her head shaking wryly. She doesn't seem to mind the sound of drumming fingers, and only smiles at Addiene's rueful smile. "I find... many weyr people are no different. They find it very difficult to comprehend hold ways, sometimes. Perhaps not always scared, but... they do not like to think of things as being different. Of other ways being equally valid." She gives her work a careful glance, smoothing it with one hand as she adds, "A quilt. I make quilts in my spare time - a hobby, I suppose. This one's for me; the rest have all been for other people, thus far."

"Each side content to believe the other is ignorant and somehow backward," Addiene thinks aloud. "Despite journeying and Search and all sorts of things, perhaps there'll never be enough people who have lived both ways to prevent people of one badmouthing the other. I certainly try not to, especially around children. They shouldn't have opinions forced on them." Dark eyes continue to follow the needle, yet she looks away before she might be seen to be staring. "That sounds fun," she says, genuine in that remark about quilt-making. "Worthwhile. And with patterns and everything, it's all..." She attempts to talk with her hands and fails, folding them back into her lap. "Well, it's got a structure, you know?" Evidently something she appreciates.

Madilla agrees with a serious turn of the head, "Probably so. Which is a shame... I certainly intend to bring my children up with an appreciation for both. I suppose I will never stop being holdbred, and that will, by nature, impact them to some degree, no matter where they are raised." She's thoughtful as she says that, but turns her attention quickly back to Addiene to add, "I enjoy it. The patterns-- yes. I make some picture-quilts, too, but I like the order of it. Do you... create anything? As a hobby?"

"I think," Addiene thoughtfully responds, "that that is a very wise way to look at it. It sounds as if it would allow them the space to grow and make informed choices of their own." She shakes her head as an initial response to enquiry and looks down at her knees with a smile bordering on silly and embarrassed. "As a hobby? I don't really... I've been rather immersed in my craft since I was old enough to apprentice. I write and play music to the extent that's expected of me, sometimes in my free time, and I like writing new lessons for the children and apprentices, but that's not really... creative. I just like trying to figure out ways of making something comprehensible for different people."

Madilla, looking pleased at this assessment of her comment, bobs her head. "I hope so," is her earnest answer. "I suppose we'll see-- eventually." Addiene's answer to the negative draws a quiet nod from the healer, her remark, at the end, soft. "I didn't do much other than study, for most of my apprenticeship. I love my work, so it's never been a burden, but-- I'm glad I picked up the quilting. It's nice to have something /other/ than work to think about, sometimes. You concentrate on teaching, then? Not music so much?"

"Teaching, yes. Law when it's asked of me. I enjoy the music, but it's not... I've heard Harpers get quite emotional over it, whereas I just see patterns," Addiene tries to explain. "I'd rather a child be happy at finally learning their letters right than have people applauding a score I've written." She laughs softly and adds, "Wow, the workings of my mind sure sound dull." Grinning across at Madilla, she goes on to say, "Maybe it's time /I/ found something other than work to think about. Do you have a specialty within your craft? An area of healing you study more?"

'Patterns' draws Madilla's brow in, thoughtfully, though she doesn't query the remark. "I'm not sure about dull," she says, after a few moments. "I do understand-- to some degree, anyway. It's different in my craft, of course, where we are all about patients, but I do think some healers think more about the science of it than the-- people." That gets something of a sour look from the healer, though she hastily adds, "I'm a herbalist, officially, but I tend to focus on children, as a practicing healer, in as much as one can in a weyr. Most of us are generalists, really."

"People can get quite caught up in the 'why and how', yes," Addiene agrees. "Perhaps it happens in many crafts. It's a shame, to not... /see/ the people there." She slowly breathes out a sigh. "Each to their own." Arranging her skirts a little, she inches forward in her seat, pausing on its edge to say, "If any of the children should take a tumble and hurt themselves whilst in my care, I'll bring them right to you. As long as you're on duty. Though I hope they won't make a habit of falling or doing anything silly, really." She stands, hugging her book tight to her. "It was nice speaking with you, Madilla. I promised one of the aunties that I'd play her a song this evening though, so I should go before I forget. We just won't go telling her that it's not the love of my life." Smiling, she adds as she turns to leave, "I hope we'll meet again. Goodnight."

"Please do," says Madilla, earnestly, evidently enthused by the idea of having the children sent to her care. Though-- "I, too, would prefer it if they did not make the habit of doing so. I don't think I'd much mind being put out of business, as it were." She pauses her needle long enough to fasten a bright smile on the Harper, bobbing her head quickly. "A pleasure. Good night, Addiene."