Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Future"

Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr

The vast cavern has much the same odor of redwort and numbweed as the human infirmary, though here it's seasoned with coppery ichor rather than the iron of blood. It's also laid out similarly though on a much more massive scale, its walls lined with a number of places for patients, in this case large dragon couches recessed into the floor for ease of access; nearby cots provide space for riders. Tucked into the western curve is a huge circulating pool of warm water, by which are kept vats of oil.

The healers' duty station is a counter on the north side of the room, a checkpoint before the storage rooms behind it that are now shared with the human infirmary, hosting supplies that are as neatly labeled and carefully scrubbed as the rest of the infirmary. The senior dragonhealer has an office there as well, and human-sized double doors have recently been built as a direct route to the human infirmary, while opposite a wide winding tunnel leads to the east bowl.

It hasn't been the shortest of shifts, nor the most exciting one, but at least it's coming to an end with something to do beyond Leova's recopying and newly collating old Records: an ageing dragon's shown up in person for what appears to be a regular checkup, the dragonhealer speaking in low tones with her rider as the two survey the old, scarred green with fond concern. Her hide's prone to cracking, now, and there's some talk about supplementing her diet with fish, if she's agile enough to catch her needs in sufficient numbers or whether she'll need a supply caught for her.

Perhaps not the shortest of days or the most exciting one for Brieli, but given recent events, that might be better. She comes in from the bowl with hands in the pockets of her shorts, casually but fashionably dressed, as per usual. Though she appears to have no particular purpose in coming to the infirmary than passing through - is she checking up on them? - Leova and her charge have the tall dark girl pausing to watch, lingering patiently as she waits. She's not close enough to eavesdrop, this time.

Old though she is, it's the dragon who notices, her head turning slowly in a way that uses more of the lower portion of her neck than the upper. She's got a soft, muted whuffle for the young woman, and then the riders turn too, hers revealing an eye that's been horribly scarred out of its socket with no patch to pretend at the lack. The man's other eye is sharp and black and interested, with just a faint ghost of cataract. Leova gives her a closer look too, but with the seeming lack of urgency, she turns back and nudges her fellow greenrider to do the same until they can finish the job. It doesn't take long, and if they don't shoot the breeze for awhile as they commonly do after such sessions, that's not something Leova bothers to mention once she's seen the pair out. Then Brieli does get a beckon: your turn.

The goldrider has a faint smile for the green's muted greeting, though that fades into a neutral nod for the greenriders - to Brieli's credit, all she does is blink once beforehand. There's another tilt of her head to Leova - no rush - and she gives them all the courtesy of mostly looking elsewhere while they finish up. There's supplies and charts, and the next on-duty is likely due any minute. It's only when she senses movement that she turns her attention back the dragonhealer's way, approaching. "My apologies if that was an interruption. I thought you might be off by now?"

"Nothing that requires business, hm? Just as well. A moment." It'll be more than that, though not much more: Records to carry into the back room, from which then stems more brief conversation with the other person presumably working there, though the click of locks is probably inaudible enough. The greenrider emerges with her flight jacket over her arm, for all that she's still in shorts. "All set. What's on your mind?"

"No..." It might be a qualified no, but Brieli won't bother qualifying if the greenrider has some business to finish here before starting anything new - she lets Leova wander off to for cleanup and conversation with a nod. And she's not even impatient when the other woman returns, though she does have to push out of her lean and straighten. Wryly, "There's a lot on my mind. On everyone's, I'm sure. Do you want to walk?" After a glance towards the bowl, "I'm rather more interested in what might be on yours."

"Walking works." Though Leova does detour to hang her flight jacket back on the hook by the desk, on the way out. The night is warm, still, and only barely dusk even now, with a faint buzz now and again from insects that don't seek to bother them. "Particulars would help," she says. "Of what. And if you want the full 'Acting Weyrwoman' courtesies, you'll speak up, I like to think."

"They generally do, yes," Brieli agrees, though she's not in any hurry to offer them up just yet; she walks with the greenrider in the warm evening air in silence for a few moments before, "I don't think I need anything other than the courtesies that you'd regularly afford me. But I'll let you know if any bowing or scraping is required." Quirking a little smile Leova's way, she says, "Once, when we were trying to find out what happened to Iolene - you said something about how she didn't really ask anyone about what she did. And a few other things that made me believe you have opinions. I'd like to know where you think she went wrong."

"Of course." If it comes out a little flat, or ambiguous, it's not without humor of its own. Even if Leova does run her hand, presumably a clean hand, across her face. "Large scale: didn't bother learning about the place before she went to change it. Didn't act on behalf of the people whose homes, whose livelihoods are here. Didn't want to hear what she didn't like to hear. Thought, I think, that she was owed."

Presumably clean. Who knows what those dragonhealers get up to. Apologetically, Brieli tells Leova, "I've been asking a lot of people in more roundabout ways; I didn't think you'd have the patience for that." She says this hopefully, even giving the other woman a sidelong glance - maybe she'll have patience for youth and ignorance? And she does listen, as intently as always, her expression thoughtful. "Owed. Weyrwomen seem to think they're owed something. Even if they're trying to change that." With a shake of her head, "Do you think she thought she was acting on their behalf, or just... trying to prove a point?"

The glance gets a smile, or perhaps it's the apparent straightforwardness. Certainly, "Appreciate that," Leova says for the latter. "And. Wasn't just being a Weyrwoman, wasn't even being a goldrider as got shortchanged by the ones who were supposed to see her trained right." Brieli's got her questions, but Leova's got something else, all in that low smoky voice that's paced precisely to their walk. "Was a girl who had hardly a rag to her name that got taken in, that got a chance for a dragon that other girls would sell their sisters for, that always had it come back to Blood. A girl who heard but wouldn't listen. A girl who had in mind how riders, generations ago, took her family, generations ago, off to an island. Never mind that it was holders, at other holders' behest, and riders playing transport. Never mind that, don't you think? It was better than taking them to die."

All of that sobers Brieli, not unaccountably, but there's something else in the flicker of her gaze Leova's way, something dark and uncomfortable. Her own steps match the greenrider's, careful not to outpace. After a long moment, "Everyone gets called to account for something that's not entirely their fault at some point, don't they? And I don't know what's worse. Dying or living without everything you've known." Then, quieter, "She didn't have much of a chance, I suppose. And it's not as if anyone would think that way." Anyone other than present company, presumably.

Outpacing isn't a worry, even with Brieli's height: that if nothing else is comfortably second nature to Leova, by now, lengthening her stride to match another's. Whatever she's noticed in Brieli's gaze, she doesn't speak of it. Not directly. "Won't argue that, though for most folks, it's along the lines of choosing the last roll on the tray. As for what's worse, I'd rather live. But. Reckon if they'd wanted the other way, they could have been accommodated. But. Time to be thinking about the future." In the silence, their footsteps are audible for two paces, three. "Reckon she had plenty of chances, actually. Keep in mind, I was Meara's assistant for her clutch. You get... well. Wasn't for yours, but I still don't want either of you to wind up where she did."

Sliding hands in her pockets again, gaze mostly directed ahead, Brieli nods once. "I suppose that's true. And living or dying - I suppose that depends on the sort of person you are. I wonder--" She pauses and considers her words before, "I wonder why some are exiled, some people just - dealt with. Crime has something to do with it, but not the whole of it. It seems to me, anyway." Looking over to Leova with an odd little grin, "I keep forgetting that. I don't know why. I'll take your word for it. And I appreciate that. I'd say it seems unlikely, but I don't know that much is, of late." After a few more steps, "I think, given our experience or lack thereof, we'll need other perspectives. I appreciate getting some of that, too."

"Beyond rank, connections? Phases of the moons?" Leova gives her a one-cornered smile back, but it's the corner that's the easist to see, to read. "Happy to help. For what it's worth. Imagine there'll be a lot of people who'd want to be listened, regardless of whether you act on 'em." Which is to say: she doesn't necessarily have expectations. "As for the details, reckon it's more helpful to think about what you want, what people want, what's realistic givens how dragons are. And the steps it takes to get there smooth-like, so people don't go haywire. Whichever of you winds up Weyrwoman," and her glance has lingered on Brieli here, "has the long game to think of. How do you wish this place were?"

With a wrinkle of her nose, "Phases of the moons makes about as much sense as anything else. And it's good to know, better than thinking you're corralling people into things they dislike. And..." Brieli has a slight, amused smile here, "People do love to talk. Whether they're being listened to or not." Nodding slowly, she'll admit, "I've been considering some of that. I don't know if it will matter, in the end." Speaking of ending up Weyrwoman. If she notices Leova's interest, she doesn't show it, instead considering the question. "Quieter," she notes, with a grin. "But really... more equitable, in some ways. How much of that is my decision either way? I'm not sure. A Weyrwoman apparently only has as much influence as keeps her alive."

"Now, maybe. Now she's human." But Leova isn't looking at Brieli now, but rather off and away: what might be the classic reflective glance, but there's something to her shoulders, the downward slant to her head for all that her eyes have lifted.

She doesn't follow the other woman's gaze, for all her own flickers over to catch that set to shoulders. Brieli considers that too, for a time. "For better or worse. I don't want to be anything else." She'll let that stand for a long few moments before sighing quietly. "Next time, I'll at least buy you a drink. You should get on with your evening, Leova. You're off-duty." And she's keeping the greenrider, and lingering on darker matters besides.

"Won't turn that down. Just." Those amber eyes take in the dark-haired woman, now. "The dragons will be happier when it's... settled." She says it as though Brieli may know that, but she says it all the same. "But till then, you got an excuse to mess with things. At the top level, at least. 'Temporary-like.'"

Tone somewhat apologetic, if weary, "Yes. Hopefully sooner than later. I'd... I'd like to know." Brieli leaves it at that, though uncertainty doesn't seem to sit all that well, either. Offering Leova a faint smile, "Temporary changes might just make things worse. But I can ask questions, and people are more likely to answer them. Even if it's just to nudge things one way or the other. As if they might." There's a moment where dark eyes regard the greenrider in return, before easily, "If you think of anything else, you'll let me know?"

"Thought of a lot of things," Leova says ruefully. "Might take a couple drinks. But. If you're inclined to do a different sort of nudging... queens set each other off all right. Just hard to know, when you're in it, how far's too far. Counting on you to not pull a Fort."

Lightly, "I can afford it." As for the rest, it gives Brieli pause - long enough to nearly be awkward before she'll slowly say, "Iesaryth was never so angry as when Rielsath... I didn't think she had it in her. Try not to worry. When the time comes, we'll go if need be." That makes her smile oddly, but reassuringly, as they approach the ground weyrs, "I'm paying attention." She won't speak for the other goldrider, not on something like this.

"Good 'nough. Night, weyrwoman," and with that, Leova peels off. At least, once there's another Glacier rider in sight. It's getting dark, at last.