Difference between revisions of "Logs:Drinks and Discussion"

Nice enough weather. It's a nice enough day, but the mood around the Weyr would be more suited to something more tempestuous - sadly, for once, the skies do not comply. It might give a brief respite from the drama at least, some pleasant breezes and sun; on the ledge, Iesaryth is watching, though she is still darker than usual, even in her brief wash Oswinth's way to ask for his rider's presence. Inside, Aishani still has work to do, regardless of what might be said of dragon or rider - she stands over the table in the large outer weyr, pages in hand, expression about as displeased as it's been over the past month or so. Though there's a wineskin and a teapot both on the table, so she's expecting company!

Oswinth has been even more reserved than usual, since that day when Boreal's orders conflicted with the Weyrleader's. Even if the memory is fading, his rider remember. And his rider has given everyone a wide berth since then, not that it's ever been unusual for Vienne to spend her free time away from the Weyr. But there's been no sign of animosity in passing meetings, no reason to believe that any everlasting damage has been done. And now, Oswinth accepts the invitation gently and apologizes for Vienne's delay, as the bluerider shows up without expecting the wineskin or teapot and has brought a covered basket, hefty enough that she carries it with two hands, whether it's really necessary or not. Her tall heeled boots come clacking across the ledge, her smile easy as she gives the basket a weighty bounce. "I brought..." she starts, before she sees the table with wineskin and teapot ready. "Oh, I should have known." A quick wince stretches her mouth, shoulders hunching a little. Oops. "They say a good hostess gift is one the hostess doesn't have to use right away." And yet here she is with a basket of something.

With a glance to her meager offerings in comparison to a hefty basket, Aishani quirks something of a smile - something near one, anyway - and notes, "I'd guess that's about all I have, though I could call for more. But please..." She starts to clear room for Vienne's burden with quick purposeful movements, piling the work neatly this way and that to keep it separated, straightening it away but for one page, which she sets aside. "Do tell. What you brought." A pause, then a bit awkwardly, "It's nice to see you, though I'm sorry that it's not in the best of circumstances. I appreciate your time." Since the bluerider is so often away.

"Well I feel bad, now," Vienne admits with a self-effacing little grin as she slugs her basket up onto the table. It's heavy, but maybe not as heavy as all that, judging by the thud. "I brought drinks. Well, the fixings for drinks. Well, it could all be had separately, I suppose, but I don't often drink cream straight. Anyway, I thought maybe something a little stronger but more light-hearted than usual was in order." The napkin comes back over the top, revealing a few assorted bottles and a bucket of ice. "It's been a while," she explains, as if that's the reason booze sounded like a good idea to her.

"Well, I wasn't necessarily sure you'd want to drink in the afternoon," Aishani says wryly, but not at all disapprovingly. She doesn't need an excuse for drinks, or maybe it's more that she has multiple excuses for drinks, all equalling quite a few of them. When Vienne reveals the contents of the basket, she looks appropriately impressed, peeking over the edge to look inside. "Is bartending one of your skills? I have to admit, it's not the one I had in mind when I asked you by. How have you been?"

"They tell me it's simple! And, well, we can adjust it to taste, too." Vienne is willing to try, pulling out the bottles one by one, a klah liqueur, vodka, the milk bottle that is clearly the aforementioned cream. "Glasses?" Those she didn't bring, assuming that the goldrider would be well stocked. "I've been..." It's a nice time to pause and screw up her face as she pulls a cork loose. "It's been an interesting turn." There's enough knowing in her smile to make a joke of it. "What skills were you looking for?"

"Famous last words," Aishani intones, but does go looking for glasses quickly enough - for all she might be concerned, she's certainly willing to let Vienne try, going to her shelves to select a couple and bringing them back to the table. Squat, thick glasses, good to hold without things melting too fast. "And I think it's always interesting... here? Maybe. I will flatter myself to say I might make things interesting now and again, though it wasn't my doing recently." A flicker of a look back to the ledge, softened by sympathy. "Nothing like being blamed for the sins of those who went before." She's lost to a reverie briefly before; "Oh. With Holders, with correspondence. Once the drink is done, I'll show you. I don't quite know how to respond." There's some reluctance to admit that, and some admiration for bringing her to admit it.

"Now, when they made them, they blended the ice in, but we'll just have to make do with stirring, I think," Vienne says, mostly to herself, while Aishani fetches glasses. And then a pleased, "Perfect," for the ones she chooses. "I wouldn't say you've been... uninvolved?" she admits for the goldrider's part in recent excitement, though the smaller woman catches her lip in her teeth to say it. But she bobs her head faintly, "I don't... want to speak ill, but it sounds like maybe the former Weyrwoman wasn't quite the who..." She just lets it drift off instead of really committing to that speaking ill she wanted to avoid anyway. Mention of the correspondence has her twisting a smile. "I'm sure the drinks will help." She starts to dole out the ingredients.

Wrinkling her nose, Aishani has to agree, "Yes. Nothing to blend with. Not here, anyway - and I suspect asking for it would bring more questions than would be worth it." She leans on one of the chairs while she watches Vienne, easy enough in posture, at least. Considering her words for a time, she eventually says, "Iolene didn't always understand the importance of everything in the Weyr, in society, raised away as she was. And Ysavaeth was... something else, really. By the time she came to me... there was nothing else to do." Shaking her head a little at the memories, "Drinks will help. Unless we send something scandalous off to Crom. Do you think he's a little... tweaked that I was living there under his nose the whole time?" She might like that.

It's clear from Vienne's work that this is a new task, as the pouring is very slow and involves a lot of lifting the glasses to look at them and eyeball how much there is. She goes light on the vodka, just in case. "I think..." she begins with a neat little tip of her head -- really, she should be wearing an apron. It would be fitting. "That you tweak a lot of noses. I'm still not entirely sure I understand why. I certainly can't speak for Crom. "When she came to you," Vienne muses, "Iolene, was it afterwards or..." She shakes her head quickly. "I'm sure you've been asked by everyone and their brother already." It's an apology.

It's not something that Aishani will go rushing Vienne on, given the relative newness of the task; the fact that cream and alcohol are both involved. Shifting to cross her boots as she eyes the process just in case she's called upon to repeat it. "Well, some of it is quite deliberate, I can admit that. Not as much as some people I know." Not the bluerider, but by her eyeroll, she has someone in mind. "And I think it might annoy me. I don't like being out... maneuvered." Never outsmarted. With a shrug, "Most people would rather assume. It was after, well after. They hadn't really thought the whole thing out." She purses her lips before, "A friend, my Weyrwoman-- the only one who hadn't been some... target to me, asked me for help. Us. It didn't seem like it would matter, in the end. The status quo." She smirks.

The liquor is poured, the cream, and then the ice added. It's all rather pretty, really, with the way things have separated, but then Vienne takes her spoon -- she did bring that -- and stirs it all up. There's nothing but nervous hope on her face when she flashes a quick 'dunno what I'm doing' smile at Aishani. "Who do you feel has out maneuvered you?" Perhaps it's comforting that the bluerider doesn't really have a source in mind? But before she speaks again, her lips tuck in, anxious about bridging the conversation. "Did she do it a lot? Use her queen's will on the Weyr?" The damp spoon is set on the napkin and she passes a glass to Aishani as she takes up her own.

Flashing a grin of her own - one with more confidence in what the bluerider is doing - Shani just shrugs as she straightens. "I'm not sure. Lady Edeline... certainly talked around me. Lord Crom-- I'm not sure what he's doing, but it's likely just getting whatever he can out of whatever chaos we have. Oh, here." She picks up the letter that she'd set aside and trades it for her glass, taking a slow sip, not finding it bad - so Vienne can manage basic mixing, yay! As for Iolene, "Oh... it wasn't her, really. Her queen did it all on her own. She figured out how to make it feel like she was the senior, all the time. The force of will required is really quite impressive." Ysavaeth: Aishani is sort of a fan. "We only really helped with... later. The clutch. But Iesaryth learned a little."

Vienne hasn't matched wits with Edeline, but surely she's had experience being talked around. Her mouth purses for it. "I wish I had an easy solution for that. It always seems like, in theory, the thing to do is step back, power isn't always in the words, sometimes it's in the silence, you know? In letting someone else run circles and feeling secure because it's your choice, rather than something you can't keep up with. But that's how it feels in the moment." She's doing that thing again, mind wandering off into philosophy rather than necessarily talking about Lady Edeline, or Aishani, at all. "Like it feels like failing instead of standing strong." Abruptly, she realizes she's doing it and shakes her head again, like she can knock the silly ideas out. Better to talk about dragons, as she finally takes a seat. "It is impressive. So many strings to hold at once. But Iolene herself was just along for the ride?" And again, Vienne chews at her lip. "Aishani," she's quiet, sorry to say it. "Why did you do it? Not then, for them, but us, now."

"In the silence. Yes. I... I've found that. But it's difficult when you're in the position where you have to come to someone for something. We rely on them for supplies, they rely on us for... what now? I'd like to see something, but there's only a certain amount people will accept. That's certainly been proven." Aishani looks down into her drink for a moment, adding, "Or too fast, too soon. Or I tried to do something decent after I did something 'terrible'." She even adds the air quotes, if one-handed. "But yes. I can't be weak. That's... death." And on that happy note, she takes a drink. "Iolene could control her, but it just seemed like... Ysavaeth was able to convince her. I'm not sure how it was with them, but... she was strong, that dragon. Io, in her way." Bemused, she glances Vienne's way to ask, "Why did I tell? Or why did I do any of this?"

"I think, when you feel like that, when you feel like weakness is threatening... I don't know anything about fighting, real fighting," Vienne says, beginning her analogy with a disclaimer. "But if two people are paired and matched, they aren't always strong in the same ways. One might be brute force and the other might be quick and evasive. I think, sometimes, in those moment, the strongest thing to do is not be drawn into a fight on someone else's terms." Iolene and her gold are given a nod for the details of their own balance, but before Aishani can really address the last question, Vienne's eyes are drawn to the note she's been handed and her attention quickly sucked up into it. The snort she lets out is a dainty one. "Well that's obnoxious," she says, staring down at the page as if she could scold it. "Firstly, the Hold is foolish to look at it as a mess and not an opportunity to practice their ground crew, to attempt not to lose those skills and structures just as we spend all of our time preparing for the future. Perhaps, though, that's something Taikrin should have addressed beforehand. And likewise, are we supposed to just save firestone and hope that, when the next pass starts, someone will be able to figure out how to use it again?" She makes a face at the letter. Of course, it's doubtless she's noticed the little details, who it is addressed to, the lack of capitalization, but it's the meat that has her turning to her drink to wash the taste from her mouth.

It takes a little while for Aishani to consider what Vienne's saying, relate it to what she knows about fighting, but the narrowing of dark eyes. "One of my aunts... said something like that. About being quick instead of strong, fighting on your own terms. It can be difficult on unfamiliar ground." Which is why the former Harper is here. Hopefully. At least the dainty snort means progress. Something! "I thought so," she agreed. "And that's an excellent point. Indeed, might have been addressed beforehand, but it can be a mistake corrected in the future. As for the firestone, apparently. No one can decide if there's no matter or it's a terrible waste." She too takes a drink, but she sets it down to pull out a chair and sit, shaking her head. "It's all meant to split us as much as he can, try to get whatever he can out of the reply... I don't want to have a record of my failure sitting at Crom for all time."

"Smart instead of quick, long-term instead of short." There are all kinds of ways that fights match up, with or without punches to throw, and Vienne ticks them off with her head tipping this way and that. But on to firestone: "I doubt they'd like to tithe in some other manner. It's not a region known for its impressive growing season," Vienne says with a wry sharpness in the twist of her mouth. "In some ways, I grew up on this question. It seems like I should have an answer by now. How to convince Holds to do their duty when the Weyr has little to offer but the promise that someday, they'll save you." But her head cants to the side and she finally set the letter down, smoothing it under her fingers. "What do you think they hope to gain by splitting the Weyr?" And then her mouth twists hard, a thought clearly passing across her face that she isn't yet willing to voice.

"Long-term," Aishani echoes. If there's something she's developed, it's probably patience. She takes her time in listening, always taking in what Vienne's saying before she comments - though once she's in the chair, it's more often after a drink than not. "So, he either wants some apology or the idea that he has something over us. Or... maybe he's just waiting to see who answers? What they say? We're unknowns, relatively." With a faint smirk for the bluerider's time spent on the question, "If there were an easy answer, one would think it would be in the records. I'd hope. Well, we have but time..." She's thoughtful over the question of what there is to gain, and might answer - but then there's that hard twist of mouth, and she has to ask, "You have an idea?"

"It's not a nice one," Vienne admits of her idea, looking not quite guilty about it, but at least reserved. "Whatever the situation is here," because, frankly, on this day, there's just too much upheaval to put a finger on it. "No one in this Weyr benefits from any of the Holds feeling like they have this power over us. People here may be split where our domestic issues are concerned, but to have a Hold threatening to adjust their tithe like this is dangerous for everyone." First firestone, then what? She reaches for the page again, to peruse over what, exactly, is written. "He says 'my'," she observes. "'My territory'." It's curious. "You could thank him for 'squashing anti-weyr grumblings', and apologize for the mess, but avoid agreeing with it being unnecessary." She'll go right ahead and give that letter a snooty look that she rarely, if ever, has been seen using on a live person. "If you sent someone to speak with him, it would convey a message that he isn't worth your time, even as you address his concerns by proxy. He probably expects one or all of you to show up and soothe him. Plus, if it goes poorly, you can 'correct' whomever it is you send."

"These aren't nice people. I am not a nice person." Aishani is frank about that, enough to put her glass down again. "I can deal with them. And if you were asking why I did it? Why I do this? That's why. Because someone has to who is not a nice person, and our only other option would be irreparably changed by dealing with... whatever comes. Whatever I have to do to make sure this does not go unanswered. Because, no. The Holds cannot feel like they can decide anything for us, no more than we can for them. If we give, it's all over. And who knows what will happen when there's Fall." She has to stop, stare across at Vienne, then down at the drink before, "I'm one of you. When did that happen." She's not okay with that, not really, but she goes on, amazed by both revelations and the snooty look, "He doesn't just want a letter? Really?" With a little shake of her head, "Someone will be sent, if it has to happen that way. I'm certainly not going there to address this."

"You forced us," Vienne says quietly. "For Taikrin." That's the thing she doesn't understand, still, even with proclamations about not being a nice person. "Taikrin is temporary." She makes herself small there, withdrawing from the letter, pulling her glass front and center as if it shields her. But it's the goldrider, going on about the weight of future threadfall, that Vienne smiles a little, still shy after her long-held complaint is finally set free. "Would you rather be someone else? A Lord Holder whose only card to play is to threaten to withhold his rocks?" But her eyes do return to the letter. "Condescension works best in person. In print, it can be read over and over until its subtleties are stripped away and just the insult is left and brandished like proof." Kind of like Mr Rocks here. "I think it sounds, maybe, like Lord Aughan might have forgotten what's involved in... a dragon being able to flame thread with deft and accuracy."

"Not for Taikrin." Aishani is firm on that, and not afraid to say it, nor is she upset with Vienne for questioning it. "Because every time that happens and people get away with it, it makes it easier. And maybe that's all right. But I was under the impression people were generally in favor of the current structure of the Weyr, if not the current leadership." A pause. "Now, it's never going to be as simple as a bronze catching a gold. People will have a way to show their displeasure. And what happens..." A pause. "Well. If. There's a lot of ifs." Glancing to the letter, curious, "Fair enough. I can't say I don't mind not leaving a paper trail, so to speak. And do you think he needs a closer demonstration?"

"Maybe," Vienne can says with a deferential dip of her head. She might not be entirely sold, but her blind gaze on the table between them does seem to be taking Aishani's words to heart, mulling over the fracturing structure of the Weyr around them. But it's that demonstration that has her looking sheepish. "It might be a card to play, in the guise of explanation. If they could see the difference, perhaps, between a weyrling's early attempts and seasoned dragon's skill, it might help them understand why it's important for us to train as we do. But every card you play is a card you don't hold any longer." She takes another taste of her drink and frowns a little. "It was better blended."

With a little purse of her lips, "Something... Something had to be done." Aishani doesn't look like she's entirely comfortable with it, but she doesn't apologize either. Nor does she think Vienne should look sheepish for the idea, by her grin. "It's an interesting idea, though. In the right location, it could be quite... sobering. I'd think." As for cards, a little sigh. "Well, isn't that the truth. About holding your cards, not the drink. Though I can see how it might be." She picks up the glass to shake it a little, eyeing the melting ice. "Where did you find it?"

"I don't know," comes Vienne's repetition of uncertainty, surely not comfortable with the idea, no matter what the long term repercussions could have been. "I wish you'd found another way." So perhaps, at least, it's not the reasons that she disagrees with, only the application. As for demonstrations, "I don't know if it's the right idea." Interesting though Aishani might find it. "Maybe it's more than is necessary. Maybe just writing something back is all you really need to do. I haven't had any personal experience with him. " She swirls her glass, having made good progress drinking in between their discussion. "At the Woodcraft, actually. I have an old friend who's from there, posted there. I went to visit." It's not generally the kind of place a person expects to find fun drinks. "I've had it before but I forgot all about it."

With a little purse of lips, "I am beginning to understand how... it affects everyone else. It's difficult for me to... fully comprehend." For all Aishani's been told by more than one person, about more than one queen, it's still something that she can't quite fit into her frame of reference. For all that she lived under Ysavaeth, even knowing her influence to be false... she still had Iesaryth. Waving off the demonstration, "Oh, not now. Not at all, maybe. I just... I like it, like the idea of it. My personal experience is limited, but your reading seems more or less correct." Of the letter, the man. Glancing at her own glass, she finishes it, though it's perhaps a little watery now. "Woodcraft. Hm. Who knew?" There's an arch of fine brows for that, then, sincerely, "Thank you for this. And... for listening. I don't know how many will."

"Is it?" Vienne wonders, canting her head as she thinks, as she scoots her chair back to swirl melted ice around the bottom of her glass and wipe the sweaty ring left behind on the table. "I think everyone likes to imagine they're in control of their own life, whether that's really the case or not." She hitches a sorry little smile. "Thank you for inviting me over. It's been too long and... It's always so good to talk. One of these days we should get out, leave the Weyr behind for an hour. Maybe." Her little chuckle probably says enough about how dubiously wise it would be to leave this place in other hands for even that amount of time. "I don't have any answers," she says, as she always does. "But if I'm helpful at all, I'm glad. Do you want me to leave the bottles?" It's hardly a hostess gift if you don't leave it behind, but if she doesn't want them, Vienne will take the booze off her hands.

A little sadly, "I think it's always the case... and what I ask from her is the exception. I think she'd never do it on her own." It doesn't make it better, or change anything though, and Aishani will acknowledge that by not arguing, just noting, "I'll remember that. I don't know that I feel any more in control of my own life, though. Everything... it's really difficult to express how different everything is. Every single thing in my life." It's sobering, apparently - though not enough that she can't flash Vienne a grin, telling her, "Jo and I are meant to go out drinking. Do you think we ought to have a chaperone?" Not because of what they might get up to with one another, but because of what they might get up to together. "And you are helpful, Vienne. Really. Always. You don't need answers. Ideas are enough." That's sincere, her dark eyes meeting hers to emphasize the point. Glancing to the bottles, "Why not. I'll give it a go, in case I have company." And the cream would go to waste!

A chaperone. "Definitely," Vienne agrees with a smirk that might not exactly paint her as the most upstanding chaperone a pair of girls ever had, but perhaps a little more fun than that. But Aishani's sincerity has her smile growing more shy, tucking in between her teeth, and her nod comes quickly, adding to the meaning of her own understanding gaze. "Sometime soon," she insists, for this ladies night out, for some unwinding. And then she heads off to leave the goldrider to deal with her letter, or at least pour herself another drink if she wants.