Difference between revisions of "Logs:A Little Problem"

Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr

The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook.

Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.

It's getting cold enough out that dusk brings the temperature down the required degrees to send the weyrfolk flocking indoors as soon as the light disappears from the bowl, so it's one of the more crowded times at the Snowasis, as people filter in for after-work drinks and meet-ups with friends before dinner. For once, Aishani's not sitting alone, for all that her small party seems to be breaking up - she's dark and oddly sober at a booth with a group of girls her age, seamstresses and kitchen workers, table covered in glasses and bottles. Perhaps someone was buying, by the flushed skin of most of the lower caverns staff as they laugh and hug each other - but not the goldrider, never - as they head out.

For the first time in what seems like forever, C'wlin is broaching the entryway of the Snowasis, a touch of a smile coming to his lips, perhaps remembering the first time he'd come to the weyr and listened in on a long ago conversation. Not quite that same naive kid, the bronzerider -- bereft of his rank -- finds his way towards the one thing in the Snowasis to draw his attention: Aishani. Giving the giggling gaggle of girls only a parting glance, the goldrider is the one for whom the boy keeps attention on lest she move and get away. Until finally: "Weyrwoman." Pause. "Brieli." Even longer pause, "Aishani." Her names, her title, they flow like honeyed song off the harper's lips. Perhaps intentionally, as is the order. "May I?" he gestures to one of the newly freed chairs as the last of Aishani's girlish entourage departs.

The (Acting) Weyrwoman doesn't seem like she's going anywhere, and though she still has a drink in her hand as she watches the girls wander off into the caverns and hopefully not back to work, Aishani doesn't seem as far along into her evening as the others do. Arching fine brows at the order in which titles and names come, she has to smile at the boy, tilting her glass his way as she intones, "Bronzerider. Harper. C'wlin." There's a sip and she nods to the chair he's indicated with a lift of her chin, sitting back down to cross long legs, swinging one boot idly. "Finally have some free time for a drink? Or are you on a mission?" Amused.

The flash of serpentine smile comes from the spring of real mirth, though shaded by the attempt to stealth such things. C'wlin, though, is amicable enough as he takes the seat he's so obtained (conquered) and leans back. "I could have time for a drink, and I could be on a mission. Honestly, it's good to just get away. Not that I dislike the life of a weyrling, but sometimes..." He shrugs, watching the (Acting) Weyrwoman closely. The open-book expressions are slowly fading from the boy as he grows into both position and manhood; features only giving hints here and there as to his desires. Which seem, oddly enough, centered upon Aishani's own temperament. "You seem in a dark place for one surrounded by," beat, "tipsy girls."

With a flicker of a look around the room, "This isn't away. Anyone could come in here to ruin your night. Away is someplace you don't let other people know about." Aishani has a faint smirk, edged with something indefinable, shadowed. "Or only select people. I found I quite disliked the life of a weyrling, particularly toward the end. And I still can't sleep in, though." A tragic sigh. If she's noticed C'wlin watching her so closely, she certainly doesn't act like it. Flashing a grin, "Sometimes it's good to be around people in a better mood than you are. And it had been some time since we caught up. It's also good to know... what's going on." A pause, another drink. "How do you find your weyr?"

"Away is someplace I can't get to until I've graduated and can between," C'wlin comments easily, "So for now, here will suffice. At least here, I can ignore them." Unless the them is Quinlys or anyone of higher rank than he, of course. "Sadly the life of a weyrling is entirely too ... " a look is slanted, lips pressed together as the best word is chosen, "... insulated. Though even the weyrlings are not pure from the weyr's particular infection, if you will." As for his weyr, the topic inspires contentment. "My weyr suits my needs." Somewhere along the way, the bronzerider has ordered himself a drink. "I was the Wingleader last month. This month it changed hands yet again, and there are some still quibbling over the silver thread, that's either never come or been taken away."

"Iesaryth was particularly keen to go between. She was certain she knew how, so she wanted to as soon as she sorted that out. By the time we were close to it, I think I was equally ready." Aishani tilts her head to regard C'wlin with interest, slowly sipping at her drink. Once she's set it down carefully on the tabletop, "Will you look forward to solitude or seeing something new? And... infection, that's an interesting way of putting it. Which do you speak of?" That brings her sharp, dark gaze up to the bronzerider again, level. "Glad to hear that - though I did know about your promotion, for the month. I spoke to your Wingsecond, as well. Did you enjoy it? And..." Arching brows again, she asks, "Are you interested in said thread?"

"I am looking forward to the freedom of betweening. Athimeroth would have long since tried it were I a weaker individual," C'wlin's comment shows how little sense his lifemate may have in the name of his plans. "Nothing is settled," beat, "Weyrwoman. And the infections of such trickle down even into the little baby dragons that would scheme for something to be settled." He considers his words a moment, "I speak out of turn, perhaps, because my own knowledge of what's going around," a level of discontent to this shades the normally smooth tenor, "is so limited. But know that it's reached even the weyrlings." Crooked smile flashes, briefly: "I did enjoy the rank, though I don't think everyone else did, but you can't please everyone one hundred percent of the time. Nor was I interested in trying." At the mention of the silver thread, he shrugs. "I am interested more in what happens after weyrlinghood. Learning about how to lead is something that... if I do not get that, it's not like I am not harper-trained. Leading is not something to come from books." He leans forward, "Nor is it something that necessarily gives one leverage. I've surmised that it's not what you know, necessarily, but who you know that matters. So if a bit of thread will get me that, than sure. Otherwise, it's a clever trick to keep us focused internally."

With a twitch of her lips, "It required some little will and reason both to dissuade Iesaryth. And dragons would scheme, recall those schemes, not their riders? Interesting." Aishani turns her glass with long fingers, contemplative. "People speak of things being settled as if it were a simple thing. It once was, but even then, it still takes time. And now, it becomes less simpler by the day. Even when it is settled, it will never be settled. People will remember all that's been done. And please, C'wlin - I would rather hear than not." She allows a grin, noting to the bronzerider dryly, "If you know you can't make everyone happy, that's a good start." But she's interested in his theories about leadership, enough to consider them over the last of her drink before, "Or what you know about who, yes? And I'm not sure what it's for, to be honest. Perhaps a capsule version of the issues you'll face in the wings, with someone to supervise. I trust the Weyrlingmasters." She's been decidedly hands-off, for all that Iesaryth watches.

"I didn't say the riders didn't, but for the riders to scheme is fairly ordinary, but for the dragons to scheme, I'd wager the problem has reached a deeper level." C'wlin's drink finally arrives, though he's in no rush to down it. "Large problems consisting of little problems are never easy to fix," this is stated as if it's a learned statement, the goldrider watched over the rim of the glass that's brought up for a first sip. "I have no beef with the weyrlingmasters, I just think all the hubbub over the silver thread is pointless given that... unless you know someone outside of your weyrling class, the chance of you gaining rank that way is very little. Even I, a lowly harper, can remember similar things done in the harper hall for apprentices to help motivate them." He shrugs, "I rather like Quinlys, actually. She does a good job." High praise for how baldly he states it. "I honestly can't imagine how we are going to integrate with the wings as they are right now," said as he leans forward, voice lowering.

Narrowing her dark gaze on the weyrling, "The problem is the same problem it's always been; there is no senior queen. It hasn't reached that level, it remains at that level. What I was hoping I didn't have to explain is it will take time for one of them to rise, and even then, precedents have been set. There is no 'settled' any more." Aishani sets her now-empty glass down, adding, "And you'd do well to try to make that at least sound like something you thought of yourself. As for the leadership program... the Weyrlingmasters make recommendations, but yes - for most, it will take time to gain rank, and a certain amount of socializing outside their fellows. Outside the Weyr, if you're smart about it." There's something wry about that, glancing over at C'wlin as if she's making a point - then noting lightly after, "It's a good thing you have some time before you'll be brought in, then. I'm certain things will be as sorted as they can be by the time you need to worry about it."

"Point." C'wlin is not yet suave with his dealings -- though perhaps he's better than the beginning. Time is certainly seasoning himself. As to the rest... "Outside the weyr," tone wry, "will be easier than within the weyr." Chief among the things that still requires learning is the ability to schmooze. "It is good we've got time, but I'm ready to be released into the wide open world," again he jokes, though something bothersome touches upon his features. "Outside the weyr, the influence can be bothersome." The frown rests, drawing in pale brows a touch, briefly before he smooths away his expression, continuing. "Aishani -- though I will always think of you as Brieli -- I would just have it said that I will still tell you what I come across, however dated the information may be."

"I would not discount your influence with your craft, should you still have it. It will be useful to the Weyr, and certainly to those you'd like to... keep informed." Aishani has to smile for that, a touch wider despite her generally somber mood. She likes knowing about things, because not knowing... well. It makes one feel stupid. There's a moment where she catches something in C'wlin's words, his features - and it brings those brows together as well as she considers her words. "If there are issues that follow you to your new home... well. Know that you are not alone in that. That High Reaches would offer its help." Or parts of High Reaches, suited to deal with such issues. "It is the least that can be done if you'll keep me informed the best you can." A pause, as her dark gaze drops to the empty glass, as she adds with grim humor, "And bear my little moods." 'Little'.

"I still have some influence with my craft," C'wlin murmurs, "Or I should hope I still do." Some things will be best left discovered once weyrlinghood is over. "As you can imagine, there are some who are not so sure how to take my defection as you will by having the luck to Impress when they did not mean me to." The rider pauses to down more of his drink than he's done so far this night, "This is why I like you, ma'am." Ice-blue eyes turn to Aishani, "You've looked the darkest part of the world in the eyes and kicked it's ass." Setting the drink down, he pushes to stand. "Everyone's entitled to their dark moods. Only the naive believe that people have rainbows and sunshine coming out their arse all the time. Not all moods are conquered away in mere hours." So verbose, just like a harper. "If it becomes bothersome, I shall. For now, it is but a little problem for me to clean up on my own." Fingertips rest lightly on the rim of the glass, "I'd best get back." Hesitates a moment before: "Just see that it doesn't harry you too much tonight. Even Weyrwoman should get a break."

Quietly, "It's always a surprise, to see how people react to that. But I would think most Harpers would see the use of a harper-inclined bronzerider at such a Weyr, in transition. Especially given there's currently two golds a turn or so off from rising." Aishani can't help but wrinkle her nose a little as she says it, girlish - someone's not looking forward to a real flight! - but that's gone in the wake of C'wlin's compliment, as she has to laugh. "There's still things I'm afraid of," she'll allow, looking up at the blond, faintly amused. "But... when you lose everything... there's only a few things you really care about keeping." She considers him for a long moment, considers arguing with the bronzerider on accepting help - but maybe that whole thing sinks in and she just lets it go. "Watch your back, former Wingleader. So you may Winglead again. And I'll try." Maybe she'll order another drink, or maybe she'll get out of there and let someone else listen to the gossip for awhile.

"You'd think, but people can be stupid." C'wlin's remark is joking, yet serious. "Everyone should be afraid of something, it keeps the senses sharp." When she mentions losing everything, there's but a silent two-fingered salute to the woman before he lifts his glass -- finishing its contents -- and only saying in parting: "I will. It's the one thing I'm good at." At that, he takes his departure, back to weyrling lessons. At some point, he'll no longer be a student!