Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Islands"

The weather is utterly horrible outside -- wind, rain and snow -- which combines to keep most people indoors. Devaki is not one of those, apparently, since he stomps into the barracks, dripping wet, his stick tapping and aiding his balance as he heads unerringly towards his cot, barely looking around.

Following the trail of melting snow is another of the exiles, though this one was apparently wimpy enough to stay /indoors/ please and thank you. And likely occupying some empty studying corner somewhere. She has her hands stuffed in her pockets, and has an intent eye on that noisy walking stick of Devaki's when it tap tap taps along the floor. It's not a friendly eye, and one hand reaches forward as if to grab the damn thing before she snatches it back and stuffs it in her pocket again. Bad hand. No biscuit. "How's your face?" she ventures. "Managed to keep it from falling on anything the past few days that you've been missing?"

Lirienne sits on her cot, a small crock of lotion in it. Rubbing some of the tallow-like cream in her hands, she looks up at the sound the the taptaptaping - and the questions. A hint of a frown, mostly shaded with concern, appears, though she says nothing.

The attempted abduction of the walking stick does not go unnoticed; Devaki turns, takes a step back, and looks surprised at just who made the attempted grab. His brow furrows as he pauses there, dropping on the floor and frowning. His free hand reaches up to rub along his jaw, devoid of the bruising now. "Barely, but yes. Thanks for the concern." He still has that wary sort of look in his gaze in response to her expression, gaze slanting past towards Lirienne with a kind of questioning look like the other woman might have some idea, then back. "What's wrong?"

"Ironic that Jaques had bruises and a bit of a busted up hand when I talked to him the other day." Emme muses, raising an eyebrow but not bothering to point out the obvious connection verbally. "But, anyway - I thought you said you don't really need that?" her eyes drop to the noisemaking stick, and then back up, taking in the lack of bruising with one of those appraising glances. "Who me? Nothing." she asserts, looking over at Lirienne now. And back. With a confused expression.

"You injured, uhm, yourself again?" Lirienne asks, after a moment, before putting the lid on her pot and putting it aside, "And you should, ah, dry off," she adds to the older man, concern battling it out with a slow-rising wash of color in her expression.

"Ironic?" Devaki echoes the word, but amusement colors the islander's tone. "Not the word I would've used, but--" his shoulders lift and drop quickly. He moves the stick further from Emmeline's reach, and says, "Comes in quite handy in the snow." Lirienne's comment draws his attention towards her, gaze flicking to her knot, then he smiles. "Good point. You can take the healer out of craft--" a twitch of lips. He doesn't seem inclined to linger, dripping in place, for much longer, and instead threads his way through to his cot, resting the stick against it and shrugging out of his jacket before seating himself in order to shuck off boots. "How is life in the barracks? It's getting full again," he notes with a hint of something unvoiced.

"Alright. I'd say suspicious and /obvious/, but you're not going to tell me anything regardless. So I chose ironic." The harper's smirk as he moves the walking stick further from her suggests amusement as she brushs past to get to her own cot. "Life in the barracks is crowded. Crowded, and noisy, and full, and annoyingly claustrophobic of course." But as Emme drops into her little assigned space and starts to rummage through the small chest of her things, her muffled voice can still be heard. "I spend as much time as possible away from it. I don't know how anyone survives it." And then when she looks back up, her gaze settles on Lirienne wonderingly. "How do you deal with it?"

The tide wins, as red races up past the finishing line of cheeks, before she shrugs and drops her gaze towards her hands. "I, uhm, the crowded? Practice.. I guess?" she ends with, before looking through fallen curls, "Used to snores, and such. Is it, ah, bad? The healer out..." she trails off, before lifting her hand and just sort of waving it around.

"It's certainly not like the islands." Devaki agrees, as he pushes wet boots underneath his cot, wiggling bare feet. "Unless you count all that time in the caves." The obvious comment is ignored which seems to suggest agreement with the other islander's words. Instead he strips off his shirt and rummages around to find a dry one, tugging it over his head. He seems to be interested in Lirienne's answer, given he casts a glance towards the ex-healer. He offers a wry kind of smile in her direction as he hangs wet shirt over one end of the cot.

"Practice. Well, that makes sense." Emme agrees, giving the other girl a brief smile. "Bad? Well, depends on the night in question I guess." Pulling a small hidebound journal across her lap, she opens it to a marked page and starts scribbling lines across the page slowly. Seems she has no further comment on either subject for the moment!

Lirienne waits a moment or three for the blush to fade slightly, then moves her head slightly, so she can look from Devaki to Emme and back again through the veil of hair. Finally, "Wh-what's it like then. The islands?" A question that's been nibbling at her curiousity for some time, finally asked as she sits cross-legged on her cot.

Devaki casts a glance Emmeline-wards with another furrow of brow. "Hm. The usually chatty ex-harper devoid of words. Something's going on. Girl stuff?" he suggests with a knowing little grin, running a hand through wet hair to smooth it back. Lirienne's question alters his posture somewhat, straightening a little and casting another glance towards his fellow islander a moment. "Hard. Rocky. Terrible." The words are offered with a brief shrug, then, "But it was our home."

"No." The simplest answer possible for Dev, before Emmeline pauses in her writing to add to his answer for Lirienne. "Poor weather, and there wasn't much food. Mostly seaweed and fish. Some sparse fruits and vegetables that we were able to grow after we lost a lot of the crops and seeds to threadfall." she admits, lips tilting upward a bit. "We even lived in mud huts. So, harder in that respect. Easier, in that we were more like family there. Now that we're here, it's... different." she explains, shrugging. "We also had more purpose there, it seems."

Nat stumbles in looking more her usual self, in as much as she is covered in soot from stacking firestone most of the day. She spots a familiar face and offer's Lirienne an enthusiastic albeit tired wave. She notes the other Islanders and offers a pleasant smile making her way over to where her healer friend is standing.

Lirienne listens to the two statements of the islands, before nodding once. Opening her mouth to say something, the copper-top is derailed when Nat stumbles in. Perched on her cot, Liri looks up, then tilts her head slightly. "You cut your, uhm, hair." After that brillant bit of observation, she then gives a clear look to Emme and Devaki. "Too spread, hm.. out?" she asks, hesitating on that last word, as she looks around what is normally a crowded situation.

Devaki rummages around in the press at the end of his cot and comes up with a towel, using it to mostly dry his hair, before he uses his fingers to brush it back into some semblance of order. Despite the simple answer, or perhaps because if it, he glances to Emmeline again with a frown. That's the trouble about knowing someone all their lives, he really doesn't seem to believe her. Still, he's silent throughout her answer, and with a sidelong glance to Lirienne looks set to add something further when Nathalia's arrival distracts the ex-healer. So instead, he slings the towel over his shoulder, humming under his breath.

Emmeline wiggles her fingers in greeting to Nathalia, but seems distracted while doing so. Probably being thoughtful as she tries to answer Lirienne. "I would say it's more about differences of opinion that didn't matter on the Island, but they do here. It's complicated." Which anything political is, really. With no other way to answer though, she seems to have to leave it at that. "If anything, we're crammed in like fish caught in the net here instead of having a little more freedom to move as we used to."

"Better to suit my personality?" She offers the healer, in a tone that suggests there is more of a story that she does not feel like discussing at the moment. At Liri's comment though she becomes curious at the conversation that is taking place. Waves back to Emmeline, and tries to remember where she's seen Devaki before, but draws a blank. At Emmeline's answer her brow furrows a bit. "Hopefully that will change soon." She offers with a smile. Not that Nat can do anything to change it at the moment.

Lirienne blinks once at Nat, then nods slowly. "It looks," the healer-turned-candidate pauses for a moment, before ending with "Nice." Slipping to her feet, she goes to her things, then pulls out a second towel. "Not used to going places," she admits before moving over Devaki and offering it out. "To finish drying."

Rhaelyn comes in from the inner caverns. It's just the usual sort of stroll across to her cot but without friends or antics to follow her. She settles down on her cot, rolling onto her stomach before checking to see who's around.

"Funnily enough, I imagine it won't change until after the hatching, if that." Devaki throws in there without looking over. "I wonder what they're hoping for more. That we do impress? Or that we don't?" The 'they' appears to refer to the Weyr at large, judging by his casual wave of hand. Lirienne's offer of a towel earns a slight pause, and then a pleased grin as he accepts it. "Thanks. Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Hopefully." Emme agrees with Nat, but then nods over in Devaki's direction. "But he's right." At this point she's writing while talking, only paying half attention to anything. "Probably that we do impress, so that we're nominally under the weyr's control and discipline. Tightly. Now we're just sort of... here. But I'm sure some genuinely hope to help us make a new life that we're happy with." That last murmured a bit, since her short glance upwards shows her Rhaelyn's entrance. "Evening, Rhaelyn."

A thick eyebrow lifts suspiciously at Liri's complement, but rather than press the matter she just shrugs. "Thanks . . . I think." She eyes Rhaelyn's entrance and offers a nod of greeting. Nat's eyes flick back to the Islander boy, as he answers and she shrugs. "That would depend entirely I suppose on what your intentions were after impressing, or not impressing. I am sure there's a number who hope that being full riders will help some adjust. Then again, we are talking about two entirely different cultures here. . . Even our constellations are different." She offers with a shrug. At Emmeline's answer the girl just frowns. "I am sure that there are probably those who feel that way, but there are just as many who are hoping for a genuine coexistence. Don't discount the weyr at large for what a few people's opinions seem to be."

Lirienne immediately turns pink at Nat's thoughtful acceptance of her less than certain compliment - and rather than deal with that, turns towards Devaki, before tilting her head in silent question. After her last attempt, clearly silence is the better part of valor.

"What makes you think I'm discounting the weyr at large?" Emme wonders, looking up at Nathalia with a combination of amusement and curiousity. "If you believe my opinion is harsh, you should speak with some of the others. I'm just being honest based on what I've heard and who I've spoken to."

"Maybe," Devaki says in response to Emmeline's latter words. His expression twists a little at Nathalia's words. "Even when those few people include your Weyrwoman and Weyrleader?" Yours, not his, is rather pointed. His gaze returns to Lirienne after a beat, taking her silence as agreement. "You seem to-- most healers have a particular temprement, I've noticed. But you're--" he reaches out to gesture towards the white knot on her shoulder. "Why would you give that up? Doing what you're good at?" Even though the question is directed at Lirienne, there's a brief, slight shift of gaze before he refocuses on her.

Rhaelyn has smiles all around for the greetings. She balls her hands together and rests her chin on her knuckles. Tonight, she is void of sharp comments and verbal pokes. Instead her eyes show a keen interest on listening, while being cozy on her cot and pillows.

"Not you, but I have heard enough to know that that's fairly close to the opinion of some." She offers Emme with an apologetic smile. For Devaki there is only a shrug. "There is reason for concern, firstly were talking about a cultural gap that could lead easily to potential harm in the future, especially if past events are anything to go on. Pern has had enough close calls on the front of loosing important traditions. As for the Weyr leaders, I can't speak for them, but I do understand their concern. Ambition has it's place, but it can't be stripped from a foundation of core beliefs and truths. True there are times where tradition must be stripped away, but you will believe what you choose to believe and that's what makes some islanders dangerous." She shrugs.

Lirienne wasn't moving, but still manages to freeze, eyes solemn at the question. It's a normal blink that has her back into motion, before she turns to take the handful of steps needed to get back to her cot. Once there, and perched on the edge, she actually answers. "I, well. I'm still learning. And she, Lina that is - and Madilla - said I could. Learn more. Both about, uhm, dragons and riders - and medicines." Stuttering to a stop, her barely faded blush returning with a vengence, Liri drops her gaze to her hands, then adds, "Might not, anyway." Impress and give up the knot, that is, so that perhaps the question ends up moot.

Devaki's gaze is diverted briefly towards Nathalia, but there is too much to address there, and so he focuses on Lirienne instead. "Sounds like you rely a lot on what other people have told you. Is that what /you/ want, though? Because it seems like -- some of the chores they have you all doing aren't very -- informative." His hand drops and he shifts the towel she's given him, using it to help dry off his hair.

"You're what craft again?" Emme wonders, raising an eyebrow at Nathalia's speech. "You might be better off leaving the lectures to the Harpers. Or others who teach." she suggets mildly. "You also, obviously, do not know much about our culture or traditions. Or at least, not as much as you think you do." Leaving her response at that, she goes back to scribbling a few lines, and obviously keeping an ear open on the conversation going on between Lirienne and Devaki.

Rhaelyn's fingers drum over her chin for a moment and at last she gives up lounging on her stomach and pushes to sit up, flashing a big grin over at Emme, pleased that the exile is backing up their island traditions. Going to the foot of the cot, she rumages around in the foot press there, at last drawing out a very pretty wooden hairbrush.

Nat offers a sympathetic glance for Liri, understanding how much of a difficult question it is to answer. She also offers another kerchief to the girl incase her blushing habit gets out of hand. She raises a brow at Devaki who seems to be singling Liri out for something. Nat looks as though she's ready to jump in the minute her friend looks too distressed, but for now she just watches. It's Emme though who suprises her. "I know the kinds of questions I have been asked recently, and they give me reason for concern. I certainly don't think it is right or fair that you all are stuck here, but I do see the reason to be concerned. You don't have to be a harper to know that sometimes the truth and what people want to believe are two entirely different things." She shrugs. "As for my craft I am a Senior Apprentice Smith Crafter, not that that matters in this instance as we are talking about things most people learn as small children, despite their rank or station. I suppose you want me to believe that a heredity based caste system is the way of the future?" Its not a mocking tone, she's being serious, and she seems to expect a serious answer. "Its bad enough you get that with some of the holders."

Despite having a certain number of turns behind her, Lirienne has the unfailing trust in craft-elders better suited to younger apprentices. With that being the case, there's a small shrug of her shoulders, "I.. Madilla supported the idea," Liri sidesteps the question, before looking up. Despite the discomfort that follows her every other word, a brief smile appears. "Laundry's better than bedpans." Because not even healers like that chore. Nat's kerchief gets twisted in her hands.

Devaki doesn't seem particularly intimidating enough to require intervention, given he's busy drying off his hair before his attention returns to Lirienne. "Maddy is very supportive," he finally says, with a wry sort of smile that suggests familiarity with the journeywoman in question. "And I suppose that's true. I've never seen riders doing laundry, though." He throws that thought out there, giving a little shrug as the towel is draped across the end of his cot on top of his wet shirt. He gives a sidelong, approving nod towards Emmeline, frowning at Nathalia's response, but doesn't get involved in their discussion.

"A heredity based caste system being the way of the future." That just makes Emmeline burst into laughter. "You just have no idea what any of us actually think, do you? There's a few of the blooded who may think that. But the rest of us do not." The idea that /she/, Emme, would support that kind of system is enough to set her off on a peal of laughter again. "Sorry, sorry. But's that's the... most offensively misguided thing I've heard all day. Questions are just that. Questions. You're reading entirely too much into them. To understand our traditions, you would have to understand why they were implemented. And you don't." she points out firmly. "For someone quick to decide we're all judgemental about the weyr, you've jumped to quick conclusions about our beliefs. Whatever you want to believe, you're obviously free to." Now her lps press firmly shut, and she says nothing further.

It is into this den of chaos and iniquity that Taikrin enters. She first ducks her head just within the entryway, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of her. If she's a little leaner than usual, her half-grin is at least the same. Her arms fold loosely across her chest as she saunters in, then cocks a hip to lean against the wall by the doorway. Quite content -- indeed, amused! -- she eyes each of the candidates (and not-quite-candidates) in turn, before interjecting in her rural drawl, "Laundry's why we got you lot, a'course."

Rhaelyn's brush slowly whispers through her hair as she settles her back against the footrest rail of her cot. She stretches her bare feet out on her pillow, flaunting newly polished toes. The voice at the doorway makes her nose crinkle and she glances over that way to see what trouble the dragonrider is bringing in along with the drawl. "Oh great..."

Nat smiles at Liri's response, and frowns at Emmeline's "I didn't say it was the whole lot who felt that way," She shrugs obviously tired of the discussion that would never go anywhere. "There are enough who do to be concerned is all I was getting at. And your correct I don't know any more about your tradition than a tunnel snake knows about flying." The more she seemed to hear about it though, the less she liked it. She was sick of the conversation when a familiar face strolled into the barracks as though she owned the place. Nat laughed at the brownrider's statement. "And dishes, firestone stacking, inventory. . ." she laughs. "Even when I try and be preemptive about work, it just seems to keep piling up. So what evil task have you come to unload on us this time." She notes with a wide gr

"The barracks are, uhm, normally kept full then, ma'am?" Lirienne has to ask, turning to face the newest in the confusion whirl of separate conversations, more startlement than anything else lining the words. At the mention of evil tasks, she moves back to the end of her cot, putting the newest - and mangled - hankerchief off to one side before nodding at Devaki in belated acknowledgement, "Ah, true."

Devaki's lips thin somewhat at the conversation between the two candidates, gaze flicking briefly in that direction. Taikrin is unfamiliar, and so her entrance doesn't earn quite the same reaction from Devaki. "The candidates, you mean," he says, with a twitch of shoulders. Reaching for his stick, he straightens. "Well -- sounds like you folks have some candidate-thing going on here. I'm going for a walk." He obviously doesn't intend to go too far since he's barefoot, angling past the cots towards the door.

Emmeline just smiles without verbal response, at Nathalia. And leaves it at that apparently. "Evening Taikrin." Her tone is polite when she glances up at the brownrider, and a smile even given. She doesn't both commenting about laundry though. And at this point seems content to just rub the back of her neck, watch Dev leave for his walk, and... pick up her journal and pen again to keep writing until she can finally feel able to go to sleep.

"What, I look like a weyrlingmaster or somethin'? Or a shardin' headwoman? If you're lookin' for work, though, sure y'all could come clean my weyr or somethin'?" Taikrin asks, wryly amused. "Don't you lot pay me mind-- I ain't here for y'all, anyways." Devaki, though-- once he points out that he's /not/ a candidate, her attention focuses entirely on the exile. As he approaches the door, she holds out a hand to halt his progress. "Lookin' for someone, maybe you can help? Girl a little taller'n me, dark hair, one of your lot. Riorde, yeah? You know her?"

Rhaelyn scoots her legs off her cot, "Devaki." She calls quietly after him as he goes to take his walk but hesitates after Taikrin speaks with him, "Oh crabshells..." Scowling darkly the girl is torn between getting up to follow and keeping out of it. In the middle she combs out her hair, lips compressed in irritation.

Nat shrugs. "If that's a challenge lemme know when to report for duty." She offers seriously. She offers a small glance at Liri but heads off to the baths to wash the char from her face. Deciding she's had enough run ins for one day.

Lirienne sends copper curls flying left and right, at the question. "No, ma'am," the words barely loud enough to be heard any distance, before she sits back down on her cot, pulling her legs up and under her.

As the brownrider holds out her hand, Devaki rocks to a halt, then rolls back on his heels, hands folding on the stick in front of him as thoughtful gaze flickers over Taikrin. His head cocks, and there's a hint of a facetious answer in his gaze before obvious familiarity flickers across his expression. "I know her," he confirms, with a twitch of shoulders. "She isn't here. I'll tell her some rider was looking for her though." He takes a step forward, moving with an expectation that she'll move her hand in time. If he hears Rhaelyn mention his name, it certainly doesn't make him pause.

"Tell her /Taikrin/ was looking for," the brownrider insists, her gaze locked intently on Devaki's in an attempt to impress the seriousness of her request on him. "It's important." Only after she's finished does she lift her arm to unbar his way, though her gaze remains fixed on him a moment longer before skipping back out over the candidates. "What, I ain't gonna /bite/ you or nothin', shells. I told you, I ain't one of your bosses or whatever." Exasperation creeps into her voice. "I don't care what you all do. Except-- hang on." Vague recognition dawns as she eyes Rhaelyn. "You're that girl."

Rhaelyn's face shows the disapointment that Devaki is ignoring her. Even if he missed not hearing her call out to him. "Fiiiine." She whispers under her breath as she draws the brush slowly through her dark hair. She works a few more strokes in, getting a tangle out before she looks up to find Taikrin looking at her, "What?" And, "I'm not a candidate."

Considering the pause between Devaki's movement and Taikrin's, he probably knocks up against her arm -- then simply rocks back, ducks underneath it and keeps going. Whether or not he hears her request or understands the importance of it isn't that clear.