Difference between revisions of "Logs:Turnover 20-21"

It would have been difficult for Madilla to have a worse turnover than she'd had last time, when those drunken teenagers had ruined the honestly nice time she'd been having. Despite that, there was something melancholy at the back of her mind as she enjoyed the evening; she kept finding herself remembering all her hopes and dreams from last turn, all the things that had seemed so real and possible then, and now were just distant memories.

But she did enjoy the evening. She even danced a few dances - and with unmasked people this time, people who could see her face, and whose faces she could see in return. Despite the alcohol that flowed, no one made any particular advances to her, which was both... relieving, but also, somehow, disappointing. It wasn't, she told herself, that she especially enjoyed turning people down, but... it would be nice to know that someone was interested in her.

Especially since the time would come, one day, when she'd want one of those offers, carefully timed, in the hopes that maybe, possibly, there might be a much wanted result.

She dropped that thought from her brain, too, with a shiver. It was not the kind of thought good girls had, but really, was she a good girl anymore? Not by the expectations and measure of her family, but probably, still, by the standards of the weyr.

She'd cross those bridges when she came to them. It was still a turn and a half until her twentieth, after all.

Despite those melancholy thoughts, she did have high hopes for this turn, too. She did, genuinely, want to be selected to attend that advanced level training, even if it would mean so many weeks away from the weyr. She wanted to see Delvana grow, and Delifa recover in entirety. She wanted... she had dreams. It wasn't wrong to have dreams.

After midnight, though the party continued on into the night, Madilla slipped away into the caverns. She admired the decorations, running her hand across surfaces both smooth and rough, weaving her way back to the dorms and her quiet, empty bed.

She was too practical to believe that how one spent turnover reflected how one would spend the turn, and yet... it was going to be a good one. She had faith in that.