Difference between revisions of "Logs:Ideal Plans"

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.

At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space.

There might be clouds and it might be damp and muddy, but it's nice out for once and not snowing, thankfully - so people are taking advantage; down by the lake, out in the bowl in general. Aishani's one of them, though her brisk walk might imply that she's going somewhere, even if she just seems to be headed from one side of the bowl to the other, expression thoughtful. Now and then, her steps might slow - usually near enough a conversation to 'overhear' it - but these days, it's not easy to linger, eavesdrop and go unnoticed, even in the big wide bowl.

Thankfully those baby dragons go to sleep like, pretty frequently. Because that's what's allowing Sabella to slip out of the barracks and head across the bowl. She's going in the opposite direction of the Weyrwoman, which is basically what gives her the opportunity to cross paths with the other woman. More attention would likely be paid to her but the weyrling looks tired and a little hassled and it doesn't help that in her hurry over the muddy terrain, she slips and falls onto the ground. "Ooof, oh no!" Not... whatever pair of pants it is she's wearing today. "Ugh." Her shoulders sink and she rolls her eyes up to the sky.

The Weyrwoman is usually pretty good at paying attention to what's going on around her, her sharp dark gaze always moving, so Aishani's quick to spot the weyrling, tracking her with some interest... which would be fine, but for the slipping and falling. With a wince, she pauses, then picks her way over through the mud carefully to Sabella, asking, "Are you all right?" A little reluctantly, because of course you want people standing around and asking that when you slip, but... she has to ask.

"Why me?" That question is directed dramatically to the sky, like someone might answer. And then someone does say something and Sabella's eyes go just a touch wide when she realizes who exactly it is. Oh, of course. She glances down at her mudded pants and exhales slowly, collecting her composure. "Yes. I'm fine. Just... I might be a little too dirty to go the living cavern and get something to eat now." The weyrling glances over her shoulder to the barracks, all the way over there.

"Because it figures." That's Aishani's theory, at least. There's a weary sound to it too, as if it applies to a lot more than just getting muddied. She offers a hand though, despite mud potential and decent-looking clothes, if Sabella needs it. With a wrinkle of her nose, "I don't know. I think the living cavern has likely seen worse in its time. It's not snow?" At least snow would be clean. Confidentially, "I won't mention this to anyone." Other weyrlings. Jo.

Sabs stares up at Aishani for that answer and eventually just laughs, quietly and almost under her breath. When she offers that hand to help she shakes her head quickly. "No, no. Your things are too nice to get filthy." She can appreciate that, even as she's covered in mess. Very carefully she pulls herself to her feet and wipes her hands off those pants, transferring some more of it to them. "I just hate to be seen like this. How embarassing." The teenager sighs and produces a lopsided smile, especially for that last. "Thank you. I can't have my reputation tarnished so early on."

Stepping back to give the new greenrider some room to get up, Aishani flashes a bit of a smile, admitting a touch guiltily, "I like clothes." As if she shouldn't, for some reason. Sliding her own hands into jacket pockets, she wrinkles her nose, telling Sabs, "That's why I don't skate, you know. I don't like to be bad at things, because you end up looking silly." As for the last, she gives the girl a serious nod. "Reputation management is always difficult. You don't want to risk being associated with mud. Bad for the image."

"So do I." Sabella confides, not sounding the least guilty about that at all. She's recovered from the tragedy of having fallen in the mud, at least. Now she checks her hands to make certain there aren't any large globs of it still stuck to her fingers somewhere. Her smile pulls to the side and she lifts her eyebrows, considering. "Some people are able to turn being bad at something into... being bad but appearing endearing to others as they struggle. It's doesn't work for everyone though." Satisfied that she won't end up with dirt wiped across her face later, she slips her hands into the pockets of her fitted jacket. With an easy sort of agreement, "Once you're associated with it, it can certainly be hard to shake off later."

Considering the weyrling's words with an odd sort of smile on her face, Aishani allows, "Good point. And... it certainly doesn't work for everyone." There's a bit of a smirk before she looks back to Sabella, brows arched as she asks, "Are you going to get something to eat? I'll walk with you, if you like." A glance over living cavern way, still far off, over treacherously muddy territory. But on the previous subject, "It's hard for people to see as competent if they're used to you being... endearingly incompetent. Interesting. That makes a certain sense."

"I think if it's natural then it does. But if it's a put upon act?" Sabella shrugs her shoulders for it. There's a glance in the direction of the barracks again, as if she might like to go back and change her pants, really. It takes a quick flicker of her eyes to Aishani before she makes her up mind. "I am going to get something to eat. If you'd like to walk with me, I won't mind the company." She smiles and tips her head as if to say 'lets go'. "It's true. It's not exactly the ideal plan if you're looking towards being someone important in the future."

It doesn't look like Aishani cares one way or the other, but once the decision is made, she's quick enough to nod once, business-like, and head off. "You can always just bring it back with you," she notes. "And I suppose that it would be obvious if it were an act, yes? It's difficult to be purposefully bad at something and make it look natural. And yes, I can't see it helping you in the long run if that's your intention." A pause as they walk, and she slants a look Sabella's way. "Do you have an ideal plan?"

"Yes, it's always obvious. You've seen the girls who just can't pick something up because they're frail, weak women and they need that big strong man to help? Then they laugh at themselves and titter? I'm convinced that's a form of it." Sabs smiles crookedly as they pick their way across the muddy bowl. "It might be helpful for other things." The weyrling catches that slant of her eyes, slowing for the pause. She blows a piece of hair out of her face. "No. I don't have any ideal plan right now."

Wryly, "Not obvious to those particular men. Or obvious enough to matter." Aishani's tone is also a touch amused for that, shrugging a little. "And certainly helpful for other things, if you want perception to be one thing, reality another. If no one takes you all that seriously, people might not watch what they say around you, for example." That won't work for her either, probably. With a flash of a grin, looking over at Sabella again, "Any plan at all? I'm mostly curious. I'm probably making it sound... like a weightier question than it is."

"Just an example." She clarifies, conscious of where her feet go now. The weyrling shoots a sidelong glance in the direction of the other woman, shifting her hands in her pockets. "Which just brings us right back around to perception being everything for a person. Whether you're covered in mud or being endearingly awful." Her smile is quick and she hops around a deepish looking puddle. "My plan right now is to survive day by day until I can start sleeping enough consecutive hours to feel like myself again. I'm not used to being tired like this."

"Mmmm. Indeed. Perception and perspective. It comes back to those two things fairly often, I think." Aishani has to laugh for 'endearingly awful', shaking her head a little. She dips her head to look down at the mud ahead, dark hair falling over her face. "Perhaps I'm endearing in my awfulness. And that sounds like a wise plan. One foot in front of the other until you can think. The exhaustion is something else. I wasn't used to it either. Now..." A little grimace as she looks up again. "I can't sleep in that often."

"Yeah. Is this going to be one of those conversations that starts to slide down the slipperly slope to perception is reality? But is reality really reality?" Sabs jokes, pitching her voice low like some old wise man. She laughs then and hazards another glance to Aishani. "Perhaps we all are. If only a mirror could show us- Oh damn it. I'm starting to be my own bad humor." There's a quick, exasperated if amused sigh for that. "I don't imagine it's going to ease up for some time, but then I just need it to a little. To get my feet on the ground." There's an interested gleam in her eyes, an eyebrow lifted curiously. "Even now? You should at least manage it once a seven, no?"

With a laugh, "I try to avoid that. But I like different perspectives. I find people don't really value them as much as they should. I suppose that's accepting another perception of reality. Some people aren't able to do that." Aishani grins at Sabella for her little sigh, telling her, "If you feel better, I tend to make every conversation hideous eventually. So if it all turns to death, you know why." A little roll of her eyes, but she nods, agreeing, "It gets better after a time. Once they're less like babies in terms of sleep." As for sleeping, grimacing, "I try. When I'm away, sometimes. As I realized, when Iesaryth's about to go up. It's quite lovely, actually."

"Some people aren't able to do that?" The way she intones that might be implying that there are quite a few people who aren't able to handle different perspectives. But she doesn't quite voice it outloud. Sabs laughs and lifts her chin, "That's good to know ahead of time. I'll just make sure to end all future conversations about half way through so that it doesn't get to the 'death' part." She doesn't glance back to the barracks, but her thoughts are probably there. "I think that I'll be glad when they're past that point. Also past the point where we're all talking about them all the time." Her smile is rueful and she shakes her head. "It must be difficult. You're probably very busy with things when you're here."

With a faint smirk for the tone, "More than some, fine. Some people have to be told that." Aishani doesn't seem overly bothered though, laughing a little as well, with a self-deprecating shake of her head. "It might be better," she notes wryly. "I'm surprised some of your compatriots stayed around, given what I told them before the hatching. And are you already tired of talking about them? Or is it just... not your way to discuss it?" It's a relationship, after all. As for her duties, "I am busy, or keeping myself busy with something, often. I've felt less like I can get away in the last turn, which isn't easy, no. For various reasons. We like to be out in the world."

"What did you tell them before the hatching?" Sabella asks curiously. She didn't get the scary memo, apparently. "And some of my compatriots would rather tie themselves to the weyr than ever leave." If there's an eyeroll, she does it very quickly. Just an involuntary slip up there. "I want to feel that same gushing excitement, I do. But I guess that I just don't gush well. Ghislaith and I are both very private, I think." She falls silent on the subject of being very busy with things, perhaps she has nothing readily relatable to Aishani. But, "What's a good place to go see? If you haven't really been gone from this area before?"

"Mm. That Hraedhyth wounded three people before Azaylia, then impressed her. That it's difficult to have someone else in your mind, that you have to be prepared. That it can change who you are and what you want. I don't think anyone put it so plainly, perhaps." Aishani's quirk of her lips isn't quite a smile for Sabella's maybe-eyeroll, but it's a near thing. "I don't think it's a secret that my personal relationship with this place is complicated. I understand. As do I understand being private. It's not easy to be in those conversations when you're not inclined to share." As for the question, without hesitation, "South. Not to either of the Weyrs, just somewhere that you can feel the vastness of it. I never thought I'd be there."

"They sure didn't put it that plainly to me when I was searched or anytime afterwards. Maybe you should give that pep talk to the next round of candidates." Sabella suggests, half joking and half serious. They're picking their way across the bowl, closer towards the living cavern entrance now than they are away from it. "No, it's not. I find that it's a fine line I walk between revealing more than I care to share and maintaining the appearance of healthy interest. Not that it's impossible, just tiring." She smiles and shrugs her slim shoulders. "There are so many places to go. I thought I might go somewhere hot first, going south sounds like a plan. Yes."

Dryly, "Yes, I'm sure that'll go over incredibly well. At least we'll know the ones that run off aren't worth the time anyway?" Aishani offers a little shrug of her own, her dark gaze skipping between the mud ahead and the weyrling beside her, hands in her pockets as they walk. She's in no hurry, without her usual brisk stride in deference to likely-tired Sabella. "Tiring while you're trying to handle everything else going on. Yes. I can imagine." By her tone, she might know. With a grin, "Whenever I run away, I tend to try to go somewhere warm. Warm and interesting, unless the company is enough. The rest of the places tend to depend on the season."

Dragon-guided, surely, a Fort-knotted bronzerider seeks to intercept the pair, having cut nearly a straight line from Shani's ledge where Vhaeryth had landed not long before. His short hair's curling that much more in the humidity, and just before reaching them, he gives the grey sky an askance look and the women a just as elaborate shrug before twitching at his hood with one hand: will it rain on them? Is the moisture lurking, ready to pounce? Or, given his sometimes picky footsteps, is it lurking in the form of mud below? "Shani," he greets casually, warmly, appreciatively, when he's still some small distance off. "Who's your... protege?"

"You won't have to feed them or clothe them if they run away. It has its cost effective benefits too." Look at that. Sabella is thinking about this for the benefit of everyone. "I imagine it's much nicer to get away from here by going somewhere warm. Wouldn't be much point in traveling to a cold place instead." The appearance of the other rider brings forth her more curious look, passing a glance between him and the Weyrwoman. But then she's stopping in her tracks and an exasperated expression crosses her face, "Oh damn. Sorry, I need to go back." There's not much explanation, but the weyrling is soon turning and moving back to the barracks with some speed.

Talk about tarnishing your reputation. Aishani has to be expecting that greeting, given dragons and ledges, but she's a brilliant smile when she hears it even so, not at all concerned about Sabella or anyone else in the bowl seeing how warm it is, how quick she is to hold out her hand for N'rov's. Even if he's being fussy. "It's nicer at home," she guesses, definitely not hooded. "And I don't know if I can claim that. But this is Sabella, Ghislaith's..." And as soon as she gets that out, the dragon in question is apparently calling. She looks after the weyrling for a moment, then just shrugs. "One of Hraedhyth's," she adds, like it matters.

"Ah." His fingers have already interlaced with hers, containing them, tickling. And since the girl's gone off, "But you're making her one of yours, are you? Or was this a duty call? It didn't seem as though you were calling her on the carpet." N'rov bends a wicked eye Shani's way, his words light, still somehow more relieved than he'd been in the days leading up to the hatching and, even more so, the events following.

And since she's gone, why not pull him in closer? There's still people out walking, enjoying the sad excuse for early spring that's come to High Reaches, but Aishani isn't bothered. After leaning in, up on her toes even, for a brief kiss, "I almost literally ran into her. And I think she might work for someone else. But..." She considers, the light in dark eyes a little wicked as well, "I have ideas." She always has ideas. Looking up at N'rov, gaze searching, sensing that ease, "You're... less worried."

"Oh? Surely not the weyrlingmaster?" N'rov teases before he gets around to her continuation, swinging their linked hands between them now that he needn't use them to help balance her lean, "Perspicacious as always. Unless there are matters of which you haven't told me, or at least matters that aren't all tedious mending and napery and such... which I'm perfectly willing to have you continue to spare me, at least so long as they do not weigh over-heavily upon your delicate sensibilities." He gives her another quick grin, one not entirely belied by the serious press of his hand.

"You probably didn't notice, but there were an awful lot of candidates that impressed from around Crom. They all seem to have a few things in common." Surely, the fact that Aishani's lowering her voice is why she'll let go of N'rov's hand in favor of winding her arm around his waist, and not to settle in against him. And as she starts walking again, it's not in the direction she'd been heading with the weyrling, but back to her weyr, with two dragons for once! With a grin, "I can leave off the gory details of management, yes. But this, I haven't mentioned. A deal I'd like to make, that might be a good one for my family." She tries not to sound too hopeful, but, "If I made things better, maybe they'd be less..." Whatever they are.

"Do they." Is it Aishani's conversation that is so entrancing? Surely N'rov doesn't question her change in route, though his pace is unhurried. "And these things that they have in common, do they have to do with the prospect of this deal? Tell me more."

Likewise content to take her time, Shani looks up at N'rov, amused, eyes bright. "They might..." She trails off like she might have him guess at it for awhile, but can't keep up that pretense for long; with a wrinkle of her nose, quietly, "It seems that Jo brought them in. For... someone. I want to talk to them. Or send word to them, at least."

N'rov waits her out, eventually rewarded with both her words and that nose-wrinkle that spurs a slow smile, this time. "For someone that isn't you or her? I'd rather she were only working for you, I'll admit. You're not thinking Lord Crom, or are you? Are they of a different flavor?"

She has to smile in return, looking more than a little taken with his, despite the topic. "I never thought she was only working for me. I know you'd rather that. But I don't know. It could be good business all around if it's managed right." Aishani sobers a little as she makes her points, serious about convincing him at least. Or winning any arguments ahead of time. "Besides, if I'm involved with them, I know what they're doing, which is better than right now." A pause before, "What do you think I'm thinking?" By her tone, no one so on the up-and-up as the Crom Holder.

N'rov slides her a wry glance. "Maybe she'll end working for you." But perhaps he hears an ominous note there, for then he shakes his head. "What kind of good business? Though, I suppose if you don't know who he is, you don't know all the details. Yet. At least with go-betweens, it should be easier to be careful, don't you get knifed or anything... and as for what you're thinking," how to put it? "People who also haven't always had the easiest time of it, these Turns. Like your family."

"I think sometimes you give me too much credit." Not that Shani minds. And if N'rov's shaking his head, that's not good; she looks a bit disappointed, but only mildly - not enough to do pulling away or anything, don't be stupid. "I don't know enough yet, which is part of the reason I didn't want to say anything to you," she says, starting to poke at him with her free hand, grinning. "You pick at everything before I've thought it out." She'll stop though, to promise, "I won't get knifed and I won't go myself, and N'rov, I think the worst of people. I don't think they're nice people I'd be dealing with. I don't pretend all of my family were or are the nicest of people."

"I like to think of it as 'nibbling,'" says the bronzerider with mock offense, and dips his head to attempt doing a different version of the same thing to her ear, at least until it impairs the walking. But, "You don't have to deal with them, now, if you don't want to, you know that? You can stick with the 'nice' ones as much as you can, or at least save the non-'nice' for those that matter. Which, speaking of family." N'rov's tone has altered, less playful now. "I hadn't wanted to say, until I was fairly sure. But Serah's been spotted back at Fort, in a guest weyr no less. Gossip has her linked to a brown dragon, a behemoth of one, though they haven't been together as rider and dragon should." It has the air of 'man and wife,' that last.

Aishani laughs at the term and the actual nibbling both, tilting her head against his briefly. "Think of it however you like, it's why I don't tell you things sooner," she tells him loftily. And there's a pause that might make him wonder if she does know that, and she might say more, but: "What?" She's stopped in her tracks now, looking up at N'rov, stunned. "Are you serious?" Despite him giving no indication of being otherwise. "How... does that even make sense? How did that happen? You'd be telling me this if you knew any of it," she realizes, out loud. "How do you mean, not together?"

Surely N'rov might have followed up, if it weren't for the rest. After a step past Shani he turns, facing her, the set of his mouth very serious indeed. "My guess," he says, "is that she had something to do with those missing eggs of Isyath's. And I mean... not together. Not attending to each other. Though maybe they do, in private, when no one sees." He glances briefly up towards the leaden sky, then back at her. Not happily, "He bears a resemblance to the dragon who attacked Vhaeryth, in Elaruth's most recent flight."

The goldrider's not quite sure what to do with any of that. There's a moment where Iesaryth noticeably shifts and Aishani sways just a little on her feet, reaching out to take hold of N'rov's arm. "It's all right." Immediately, breathlessly. "That... she didn't like any of that." There's a long few moments where she just stands and grips his arm, before meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry. For that. I shouldn't have just... lost track. Of her." As if it would have helped. Her hand eventually slips down his arm to take his in hers, fingers light.

"It is all right," N'rov says, finally, supporting her until, or even when, it's no longer necessary. "It happens. He wasn't badly hurt. They say it's not unusual," though something in his low words disagrees, call it instinct or something else. "And she is not your responsibility. I just thought you'd like to know... where I think she is." Vhaeryth's been watching too, in his way, not un-cheerful but for the queen's disturbance. He rumbles now, more metal than glass, eminently sure of himself even if she's not. His rider places even his free hand over Shani's. "Let's go back. It'll be all right."

"The eggs too, just now, now that she knows them..." Shani either can't quite explain it, or can't quite finish it; either way, it's Iesaryth's distress, and not for her to put into words. And being Iesaryth, it's only a sense of disquiet, protectiveness for hers, but for him, even if he's sure of himself. Having Vhaeryth back is nice. Thinking of him wounded, much less so. And her rider's not convinced about her responsibilities by the look in her eyes, but she's not arguing either. "Thank you." For telling her. Starting to walk again, heading back, "If you can, find out about visiting. I'm afraid to ask." Said wryly.

And the last N'rov says before lighter things, before getting to their dragons and a more physical reassurance that yes, Vhaeryth's intact (just those few small scars, barely noticeable, really), is that, "I think the Weyrwoman would prefer a note from you. But if you don't beat me to it," they can see.