Difference between revisions of "Logs:At Knifepoint"

Southern Rim of the Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Directly opposite the sharp spikes of the Reaches' characteristic spires lies the bowl's south rim, from above seeming pinched like a baker's pie crust to form this distinctive lip: a soft curve, several dragonlengths long but only four lengths wide before narrowing into impassable crags. It would have to be an apprentice effort, however, given how even the flatter area is riddled with cracks and hollows, dusted with glittery silicate quartz that is far more gritty than sweet.

Though the view down into the bowl is commanding, the views beyond it can be absolutely breathtaking on clear days: eternally snow-capped mountains descending to high-altitude meadows and the dark brush of evergreens, and greener valleys beyond even those, with only glimpses here and there of human habitation. But the views come with a risk: the wind can blow hard and strong, and whether looking inward or outward, there is no protection from the precipitous chasms that fall away from these heights.

The sun is setting over the Weyr, but there's still a bright spot above, sunny, if not giving off light - Iesaryth has her spot on the southern edge of the rim that she prefers, and there she sits to command the view of below and beyond, wings rustling in the winds. This evening, Aishani's joined her, warding off the high winds with both jacket and the bulk of her queen, watching the day seep out of the bowl as the evening covers it over.

It's cool enough out to break out the warmer clothes again, at least if you're going to be sitting on the rim of the bowl. Tsanth wings into place, giving his rider a chance to slip off of his neck. Z'ian shoves his hands deeply into the heavier riding jacket that he's chosen to wear. It can't be any mistake that they've picked this place as a spot to spend some quality dragon and rider time, Iesaryth isn't exactly hard to miss up here. It's been some time now and the initial hard edge of anger has worn off, so he doesn't say anything. He just stands there for a minute and enjoys the view.

Iesaryth also doesn't make herself easy to miss up here. For all she's not as territorial as most queens, she shows her interest in her home in other ways, one being her constant watching; from up here, she makes much more of a show of it. She knows what's happening and who goes where and (she'd like to believe) what they're doing. When Tsanth lands, the queen has a quiet greeting, more than Aishani herself has for his rider. Her arms are folded in front of her against the wind, dark hair whipping out behind her like a banner. She's less tired-looking than weary, and there's that even in her disappointment and annoyance - she's tired of being both. "What do you want? Want to be smug, like K'del? Find a way to make things even worse? That'd be great." She sounds... hurt? No. Must be the wind.

Tsanth folds his wings against himself, not seeming terribly interested in greeting Iesaryth. But he's been withdrawn since the incident with the mock threadfall drills. Possibly with good reason, he was one of the more difficult pairs to work on. Z'ian's hands remain shoved deeply into the pockets of his jacket and he fixes his gaze at some point far beyond them. "I want to know why." His tone is even and cool, though he doesn't look at her yet. Doesn't make as if he registers her hurt or fatigue, not yet.

With disbelief, "You want to know why. That's almost funny." Aishani looks over to Z'ian, just a turn of her head, the wind catching dark curls across her face, her forehead. Loosing a hand only to mechanically brush them away, "Why? Because this isn't going to end now that you've all brought it back to life and the answer has to be the same every time. Why didn't you talk to me before ensuring all our Holders are aware of our internal issues? That should help a lot too, by the way. You're all such..." She doesn't finish, but it's there in her derisive look, tone. Children. "Save us from bronzeriders."

"Spare me the derisive mocking, if you can. You don't appreciate that from K'del and it's not something I've ever pulled with you." Z'ian's voice is firm and it's now that he cuts a look in her direction. "Aishani, it was never a dead matter. And if it was, it wasn't brought to life by us. It was brought back to the forefront when your Weyrleader decided to hijack the wings to run her drills over major holds that we've had political issues with." He chews on his tongue a moment, pausing. "I have come to you. I've kept my communication with you open. But you've made your point in the past that you're not getting involved with this aspect of the Weyr. So the wings have taken it into their own hands. I'm not sure what else you expected to have happen."

"Sorry, I spare 'derisive mocking' when I have nothing to be derisive over. We're all trained to 'follow orders or people die' and then there's a period of time where someone else gets to fuck up, or someone else does something that you don't like... and all that goes out the window. It happened with Iolene, and it's happened with Taikrin, and even when there's a flight and one of them is properly caught by a bronze, it will happen again. Because fine upstanding men like yourself have legitimized it." Aishani'd turned toward Z'ian somewhere in there, leaning forward - and if her voice has lifted, perhaps it's only because it's against the winds. "I never said that! I was working on things with her! Everything can't operate on..." She throws up her hands briefly and just shakes her head, sighing heavily as she turns away. "Why bother talking to me now, then? To make me feel bad? It's not like I don't have enough things doing that. I'm sure Azaylia will handle it all brilliantly. Go talk to her." She actually sounds her age in that moment, shoulders briefly bent as she rests a hand against Iesaryth's side.

Z'ian takes what looks like a particularly long inhale, holding his breath while she begins to let loose. She can't see it obviously, but his hands are curled up into tight balls where they're shoved into his jacket pockets. But maybe there's something there in the tense set of his shoulders. "I don't know about you but I was never trained to follow orders or die. I was trained to follow orders but question them if they seemed like a really bad fucking idea. And lately they'be seemed like a bad fucking idea." There's bite in that firm voice, but it's not exactly aimed at Aishani. He turns now to her, crouching down and removing one hand from his jacket to use it to balance him there in his lowered state. "You were working on things with her, I know. But she doesn't listen. Not to anyone, not to you. Not to me. Only to people who are telling her that she's right. And she's not right now." It's that break, where she sounds young that has him drop his gaze to the ground. "No. Not to make you feel bad. You should go talk to her." To Azaylia.

Aishani has to note, tightly, "I find it interesting when it's become a bad idea. And when a good idea became telling all the Holders how shitty things are so they can all find interesting ways to carve a chunk out of us while we're busy hating each other. I don't know why I care." She finds a rock with the toe of her boot and kicks it over the edge, hard. Thankfully, the other side of the bowl. It's likely a similar thing with Z'ian and her anger; she's certainly angry with him, but there's few people she's not upset with right now. "No one stops to think long enough to think five moves ahead. And it's not as if I agree with everything. I still want someone to help her, to check those ideas that aren't the best... and honestly, it wasn't the worst idea! Just the execution..." Her head dips briefly, before she shakes it again in the negative; no. "There's nothing to talk about." There's a pause before; "K'del could have been in charge all along, you know. Did I tell you that?"

Z'ian purses his lips tightly, not comfortable with this conversation. But then, he's never really been comfortable with any of it. "No one told the Holders anything that they weren't going to realize on their own." He remains in his crouched position, eyes breaking away from her long enough to watch as the rock gets pitched over the edge and down to the ground far, far below. "Are you sure? Do you think that I went along with this on a whim? Because I just like to sow chaos throughout the High Reaches coverage area? I've given it a lot of thought. You aren't in the wings with us, you don't know what she's like with them. And the execution was terrible and no one checked her, Aishani. No one. It doesn't make sense to allow her to continue. You think that she won't get into something else, now that she thinks you'll back her in anything? Have you thought five steps ahead about that?" It's not an accusation, he's not K'del. It's pleading, searching to see if she can see this from his side. But then, she brings up that last. He falls silent, gaze cutting to her. His eyebrows draw together. Quietly, "What?" No, he didn't know.

"Does that make it better? Or does that change the fact that they know where the cracks are? Or... well. Have a better idea. A confirmation." Aishani can allow that, can allow that it might be possible for intelligent people who have been dealing with Weyr politics for decades longer than her just might figure that some wingleaders might not be thrilled with their brownriding Weyrleader, whatever the reason. "I was there, though. I saw. And we can rein them in, if we have to." Said grimly, like it's not something she likes doing. Would it be such a surprise? "She'd be wrong in that, but it's not as if it could be allowed. Can't you see - if we gave in, it would mean that you can demand anything and we have to agree to it. And that will stick." She finally turns, exasperated and clearly at a loss, looking down to Z'ian, brown eyes wide. "Do you want someone leading this place who'll cave to every request? If there's a change, it can't be at... at... knifepoint. And yes." To that confusion, she shrugs. "The day after the flight, I told H'kon I'd back him if he backed me and he turned it down. Months later, I told K'del I'd name him Acting Weyrleader if he'd do the same, and he turned me down. I ran out of options... and at the time, I thought you were with him. I wanted someone that wanted it."

"Nothing about any of this makes it any better." Z'ian allows, exhaling. A hand comes up to rub at his face, suddenly very weary. "If you gave in? No, it wouldn't mean that people could just demand whatever they wanted or that they even would. Do you think so little of everyone here that we would stage sit-ins for any reason?" He drops that hand down, shaking his head. "It might mean that they would look at you and see someone that's realized when things have gone far enough. A person that wouldn't force them to go along with a person that's making bad decisions for the sake of being able to make them. They likely wouldn't see it as giving in." Breathing out slowly. "Forcing wings of dragons between at Taikrin's request. Isn't that the same thing? Pushing us to follow her at knifepoint?" The news that she delivers to him has him dropping his gaze onto the ground. That tightness is back across his shoulders and there's a visible effort to hold in something. It's there in the measured, thoughtful way that he controls his breathing and gets to his feet again. "I'm sorry. About all of this."

"I don't know what to think. I know how to think the worst. The worst is the ruin of this system, as it stands... which is maybe what I was going for in the first place, so perhaps it's not a bad thing." Shani doesn't sound like she means that, not really - but she sounds likewise weary, more so than someone of her turns should. She pushes curls back over her shoulder, in hopes of keeping them out of her face, her eyes. Darkly, "You think too well of people, Z'ian. Someone will see it as a weakness, and go back to that fault again and again. And it's timing." With a hand to her temple, briefly, "I doubt Taikrin will accept it, but a Weyrsecond wouldn't work anymore?" Only faintly hopeful. Sharp gaze takes in those little tells as her hand drops, and her fine brows arch as she says slowly, "I..." And the goldrider doesn't know what to say. "I didn't think it'd work. But I felt I ought to try."

"And you don't think well enough of them." Z'ian counters. Of all the things she's said, the shot at his positive outlook on other people isn't something that's really registering too deeply. Maybe it will later though, all things considered. Somehow, he manages to deliver a crooked grin towards Aishani for that faintly hopeful question. "I doubt she would have ever accepted it to begin with, if that makes any difference." He's managed to get whatever possible blow out was about to occur under control and he's returned to normal. Except for being tense all the way down to the tips of his toes. With a frightening level of calm, "I think that I need to go have a conversation with K'del now. Excuse me." It's not a good-bye or a request to be dismissed. It's just a polite exit, the brings him to his dragon. And without being interrupted, they'll be dropping down into the bowl.

"Why would I." It's not a question, it's a statement, leaden as it is. Just maybe a little melodramatic. Aishani's not so far out of her teens that she can't be emo. Why else would she sit up on top of the world in the near-dark with her dragon but to brood about how much her life sucks? That grin brightens her eyes a touch though, for all she's still sober-faced. "I can try." Still. That's how stubborn she is, but it's taken a certain determination to get her to where she is in life, as much as she seems to hate it. And she won't interrupt him in his departure, but she does lift her voice over the wind before he leaves, calling out, "Come tell me what it is you want when you're done." Not right away, but. She manages not to make it sound pointed even, go her.