Difference between revisions of "Logs:Explanation"

Southern Rim of the Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Directly opposite the sharp spikes of the Reaches' characteristic spires lies the bowl's south rim, from above seeming pinched like a baker's pie crust to form this distinctive lip: a soft curve, several dragonlengths long but only four lengths wide before narrowing into impassable crags. It would have to be an apprentice effort, however, given how even the flatter area is riddled with cracks and hollows, dusted with glittery silicate quartz that is far more gritty than sweet.

Though the view down into the bowl is commanding, the views beyond it can be absolutely breathtaking on clear days: eternally snow-capped mountains descending to high-altitude meadows and the dark brush of evergreens, and greener valleys beyond even those, with only glimpses here and there of human habitation. But the views come with a risk: the wind can blow hard and strong, and whether looking inward or outward, there is no protection from the precipitous chasms that fall away from these heights.

The weather today is very pleasant. A few clouds chase each other across the mostly clear skies, and a soft breeze picks up in the afternoon to make for a fine day.

The end of the latest month of weyrling training is drawing to a close and with this month's main attraction being manned flight, by now most pairs are competent to fly within the confines of the Weyr with minimal supervision. Still, G'laer and Teisyth didn't arrive to the Southern Rim alone. There was a much older green and her much older lifemate with them for a time, but when M'raz and Solphanth took their leave, G'laer and Teisyth stayed on. It might, in part, be because the littler green fell asleep, half-hanging off the ledge which might seem precarious were it not for the way that she's hooked her tail around a reaching rock so a wrong move won't send her plummeting too near the face of the bowl. G'laer had sat, for a time, on her, with her, near her, but now paces. Rukbat is far from sinking out of sight, though the afternoon is growing late. Inevitably, Teisyth will need to be woken at some point for them to return to the ground, but for now, he lets her snooze. Here's as good a place as any for some solitary reflection.

Hopefully G'laer's gotten in enough solitary reflection for the day, because not only is a certain, craggy blue winging his way towards the Weyr from somewhere outside it, but he's also spotted the unmistakable form of snoozing Teisyth, and is making his way to her. Within a minute, there's backwinging from 'eye'-spotted wings of greyed-blue, and once Ilicaeth's settled rather close upon the rim, his rider is leaning to the side upon his neck, and peering down at both weyrlings. At this point, Alida remains silent, though the faintest hint of a smirk barely touches one corner of her lips.

One nice thing about the approach of dragons is that one typically has time to prepare themselves for the arrival, if one's keen of eye. G'laer has, therefore, some moments to withdraw himself from whatever private thoughts he was entertaining and at least attempt some mental preparation for a conversation with the former guard. He watches the approach, takes the appropriate steps to be not in the way of landing, and waits. When he's peered at, he salutes. It seems the thing to do. "Is this a social call?" He questions, the alternative being something of a more official capacity to be sure.

"Nope; I came here just ta beat the tar outta ya, then throw yer ass down the side uv the Rim. I need my jollies fer the day." Alida responds casually in her usual way, that smirk of hers growing for a few moments before glancing over at snoozing Teisyth. Unbidden: "She sleeps deeply." is followed by a more measuring look back at G'laer, and a darkly witty, "Still married? If so, she..." cue a jerk of chin out at the rusty green "...oughta' Traditionally reject ya."

There's a moment in which he considers the bluerider's words before he drawls slowly, "So, social, then." Because, you know, with guards, a beating and an accidental death... that could all qualify as good times in guardland. But he must tease. The fact that the humor is coming out so quickly is the first sign that G'laer is subtly on the defensive. His eyes flick briefly down to Teisyth, "As deep as she ever sleeps. She's dreaming of chasing wherry flavored clouds and catching beast-blood rain on her tongue." So, a happy dream, then. The fingers of one hand twitch then. "No." Not still married. Beat. "Though she and I," Not Teisyth, "Have never really seen eye to eye on that."

Yep, she figured he would be defensive...and so Alida doesn't slap the weyrling upside his proverbial head with more barbed comments, the blonde instead reaching before her to idly scritch Ilicaeth's short neck. One lazy whuff and rumble of pleasure from the blue presages the Glacier rider's small nod at G'laer's answers, the first getting a comment of, "Ilicaeth sometimes dreams uv' razing fields of the-former-Rone's former armies, then hangin' out with his fellow, like minded dragon companions...drinking beer." Smirkie. "I think he got that last bit from me." As for 'her' - not Teisyth - there's a nose-wrinkle, then a low, "I c'n see why ya apparently got put off to relationships." Eyeroll.

"Beer." G'laer echoes and his eyes shift to the blue. And people call his dragon strange. His eyes don't linger long before they're back to the blonde still perched on her dragon's neck. "She'd say I ruined her." Beat. "She'd be right, in part, though probably her own bitterness has done the most harm." Sour looks do have a way of doing permanent damage to a pretty face over time. For a moment it looks as though he might say more, might volunteer more unasked, but then... he doesn't. Shocker.

"Don't tell me she's never taken somethin' fond uv' yours and inserted it inta her own frame uv' reference..." Alida notes with a look to snoozy Teisyth, lurid green eyes then returning to G'laer again for his answer. As for more ugly associations... "Sounds like lotsa things: more 'n one side t'the coin." Shrug. Alida wouldn't be herself if she didn't notice that aborted attempt to speak, and after a few moments of silence, the woman prompts, "Did it in the heat uv the moment, when you were younger 'n foolish, I suppose." Pause. "Heard that enough from summa' Pars' guards."

"She has," G'laer concedes, "But... beer?" Again he eyes Ilicaeth, this time with a single brow arched at the blue. Once again, his gaze returns to rider over dragon. "Mm," is the sound of confirmation. With her telling the story, he doesn't have to. And what does it matter if the details might've come out differently had he done the telling? The general idea's there, so, as long as she wants to tell the story, he won't complain.

"He knows I enjoy a good beer as much as hard liquor...sometimes more." Alida pauses here, goes quiet for a few moments before adding in more softly, "Used ta have a round after comin' in from a successful mission. Ilicaeth equates beer with...life, success." Another little shrug seeks to make her flippant, only does so by half, but then the closed-mouthed man is answering only with that sound...which is rather unacceptable in Alida's ears. Beat. "So, am I right 'r wrong?" Poke.

"Beer is success." G'laer sums up, "Interesting." Not good, or bad, just interesting. The tone is too neutral to suggest judgment of any kind. No doubt he'll remember that should there be an appropriate moment to drum up the information. Since the sound isn't apparently enough, G'laer formulates an answer in the moments following her prompting. "We were young." He confirms specifically. "Foolish, I suppose." Even though these are the bluerider's exact words, the delivery is different, allowing for the likelihood that that much is also true. He could stop there and maybe get away with it, but-- he relents, "Heat of the moment is likely not accurate. We courted for some months. More than some, fewer than others. It seemed like a good idea." At the time. "But I was young." So what did he really know then?

« Any day we come home in one piece... » Ilicaeth rumbles like the warrior he is, offering his lifemate a restrained, yet utterly earnest wave of solidarity and deepest respect, undying warmth. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

"In Ilicaeth's dreams, it is..." Alida adds on, just to be specific, the nodding blonde receiving a chuff from her lifemate, which she answers with a crooked little smile and a rubbing of the neckridge before her. Rather thoughtfully - though with a hint of snark, of course - she murmurs to G'laer, "Remind me ta never get weyrmated." Snert. After a set of moments, those green eyes again find the tall man down there, and quite serious 'lida inquires, "Figure you got lots uv acquaintences...but not many real friends."

"You don't make friends easily when you're a private person." G'laer answers evenly, though a touch of frustration colors his tone, "My sister wants to build a relationship. But doesn't know what she wants me to share. And I don't know what to share. I don't share. It's not how I was taught to be." And unteaching turns of habit is hard. Then, "Being married isn't-- It isn't awful, if it's what you want. You just need to be damn sure it's what you want before you do it." He frowns.

"Tell me about it..." Alida murmurs in a turn of emotion, her mouth frowning, eyes moving from G'laer to the sunset sky beyond them. If he hadn't already noticed, she too tends to be a private person, not given to showing excess emotion unless deeply prompted. Sharing... that word's almost as scary as 'love.' "I know..." the woman mumbles to the weyrling's words of unlearning past lessons, then startling just a little as her eyes jerk back down towards the other Guard when he speaks of getting hitched. "You did it 'cause she got pregnant?" is quietly asked.

"It was suggested that you should mentor me." G'laer answers the first. "That didn't strike me as the timbre you would want out of a relationship with me." Here, relationship meaning simply what defines the dynamics of interactions between them, not something specifically of a romantic nature. "Am I wrong?" It's a personal question, but maybe it's the tat that he expects to get for the tit he offers in answer to her question. "No. We did it because we were in love. Her father never approved, but being so minor a holder, it wasn't enough to fight and lose her over. He had other daughters and sons." He's watching Alida's face intently. "She got pregnant not long after. We hadn't yet known each other a full turn."

A sudden, rather wry little smirk-smile touches both corners of the blonde's mouth at G'laer's comment about mentoring, Alida then giving a small sigh before noting to the greenie, "Can ya' imagine one ol' Guard tryin' ta tell another ol' Guard how ta train, how ta live their life, what ta do..." A low chuckle shows only a little dark humor within her. "Like mixin' oil 'n water: bound ta fail." She too seems about to say something more, but then quiets, soon to hear more about G'laer's failed relationship. "Well...at least ya didn't have a baby hangin' over yer head ta push ya inta' marriage." Pause. "She's takin' near everything ya got, isn't she? Guilt trippin' ya."

"I can. But it wouldn't be the sort of arrangement that lead to much in the way of friendship." G'laer answers and then, still watching her intently he adds very purposefully, "Or anything else." He lets that hang before he addresses the other matter. "That-- gets complicated." It's the most ready thing he can admit. "There are twins." He slowly lets a sigh escape him. "Children are expensive to care for and raise. If I were still her husband, that would be my responsibility. But I'm not. But not being her husband doesn't remove my obligation. It's the arrangement I agreed to." A pause. "It's understandable that she's upset that there's less money to be sent. Being a weyrling doesn't pay as well as being a guard with fifteen turns put into service."

"I'm not really the mentorin' type, anyhow..." Alida notes to G'laer's first words, the woman rolling her eyes a little. Not with her temperament. With his watching of her reaction to his words of 'something else' comes the blonde's level regard of the weyrling, then a slight chortle. She hesitates for only a moment to force back a faint blush from making itself known upon her cheeks, then answering him factually, "I'm not lookin' fer love, pretty boy." A quick little smirk is followed by, "Not sayin' yer not attractive, either." She almost sounds a little like Jo, for a moment. "Be nice ta share some beers with someone else in the know, on occasion. Shoot the shit, go huntin'...whatever." Shrug. You know: be pals. "Some day." The woman's acknowledging that friendship for people like them does take time. She's more comfortable with moving on to his problems than facing her own anymore today, 'lida nodding once to all that's said, then finally commenting, "At least yer responsible for yer kids. Nice ta see a man that is." Puff, sigh. "Bein' a full rider ain't much more in yer purse, either. She'd better fuckin' get used ta it."

His reaction to her answer might be anticlimactic: a simple, single nod. Then the topic drops. G'laer's frowning at her later words. "There are different ways to be responsible for one's offspring." That might imply that her assertion isn't entirely correct. Then again, maybe it's just something to say. "It won't be long before their earning their own way." He adds with a shrug of his shoulders. "Beyond the work they do on the farm." Of course.

A nod from him is good enough for her, at least now, and Alida soon enough finds herself waving off his frowny words about his offspring. "I don't make any attempts at tryin' ta be a mother figure, so don't get too riled. Ain't my place, anyway." Truly, she could likely care less about his twins, not being the maternal type. And it's at this point that both rider and dragon become restless... Alida also suddenly wanting to leave this whole conversation in the dust...and it's noticeable in the way her fingers twitch just a little upon one of Ilicaeth's safety straps. "Gonna' get goin'."

"All I'm saying is don't credit me where it's not do. I may have children, but I'm not a father." G'laer's words come quietly but with firmness. The conversation on the whole can't have bothered him over-much because Teisyth is still snoozing away. He simply nods to her statement of departures. "Clear skies, Alida," he offers in return as he reaches to mentally rouse his lifemate. The sun is closer to setting than before, and he's evidently not inclined to stay here any longer. Perhaps it's too public a spot for proper reflection.

"I'll make certain ta discredit ya as much as possible from now on..." the bluie notes with only a little dark causticness, Alida then letting her mouth tip into another, if small trademark smirk before she gives G'laer's farewell a lackadaisical salute. As the man rouses his own lifemate, Alida's is stepping cautiously away from the other pair - Ilicaeth giving both a subdued warble of his own - before opening his huge wings...and letting himself fall like a lazy dragon from the rim to let the slowly dying updrafts loft him some into a glide down into the Bowl.