Difference between revisions of "Logs:Simple Agreements"

Brickwork and Boulders Weyr, High Reaches Weyr(#1119R) A narrow passage leads past the dragon couch, curving around into an interior that uses walls made from bricks to delineate between different spaces. Two stone steps lead down into the main area, which has been made almost perfectly square by the reddish-hued bricks: the steps at one end, a hearth at the other, and passages off in either direction on the other two sides. This main area is big enough for a couch and a table, but probably not much more.

To the left, the passage weaves around towards the outside, culminating in a small bedchamber - big enough for a full-sized bed and nothing more. Rather more impressive is the tiny shuttered window that lets in natural light, the rough shape - and the bricks correcting that - indicating that it, too, is here thanks to that long-ago disaster.

The room off to the right of the living area is barely large enough to be called a room, but could easily be used as a tiny office, or perhaps a storage compartment.

It's been a few hours post Z'ian's arrival back at High Reaches. The wingseconds have already made their departure, one of them having left the detailed report of the last couple of days behind on his desk. It's in the mircro-office that he sits now, chair pushed up to the wall and his feet up on the rough wood. The papers are in his hands and he thumbs through them a few times over. There's a glass and bottle out, but he hasn't made any move to actually fill it up since he's gotten it. For the time being, the bronzerider seems content to sit there and wonder about his inevitable fate when he decides to finally leave the weyr and go down to the bowl. Tsanth relaxes out on the ledge, enjoying the fairer spring weather.

There have been, here and there, attempts to catch Z'ian, but conflicting schedules and his out-of-Weyr responsibilities have done a fine job of blocking Vienne from actually getting a reasonable chunk of face-time with the wingleader, whom everyone is talking about again. Now the watchful blue has noted Tsanth's homecoming and, after a comfortable amount of time has passed, Oswinth reaches out with the low humming buzz of kinetic friction. He doesn't really use words, but rather just a series of thoughts, trying to be unobtrustive: Vienne. Z'ian. Now? There? Perhaps Z'ian will change his mind about heading down to the bowl. And going on the assumption that the answer is positive, one small woman is eventually in front of him with her usual too-nice clothes and prim posture, hands clasped before her and heels together. "So..." she starts, pressing her lips together as big eyes cast aside.

Tsanth would have responded in the positive, yes. Though it takes some time for Z'ian to draw his feet off of the desk, only doing so once the buerider is actually there in front of him. He lifts the papers in one hand, directing a rueful smile her way. "You know, you think things are stable enough that you can go see to your family for a few days. You come back and find out some people put you up to be the Weyrleader while you're gone." He's at least passed the shock, horror and irritation of the news and moved on to the 'oh you've got to be kidding me' component. "So you're here to tell me there's no chance you're jumping on to this sinking ship?" He guesses, tapping the report against his mouth.

"Yeah..." Vienne answers for the bronzerider's misconceptions about being able to leave for a few days, that pinch of her mouth morphing into a wry twist as her gaze sweeps up overhead. "At least, I guess, things have turned around since you first stepped up for Boreal?" There's a weak laugh under the words and then she smiles at him, a bit teasingly. As for her decision, that sobers the expression quickly enough and the small woman draws in a deep breath that should probably make her taller, but doesn't. "It does make me pause a bit," she admits. "I'm not eager to..." she drifts off vaguely and changes her mind about the direction. "Is it something you want?" she has to check. "Being Weyrleader?"

"I've considered the possibility that this is someone's idea of an elaborate plot to get me removed from the wing." Z'ian comments, his index finger raised thoughtfully. He laughs quietly and drops it, closing his hand. "But then I catch myself and realize how paranoid that sounds." It also doesn't sound like he really thinks that at all anyway. "Be dragged into Weyr politics? Believe me, I get that. I've been walking the tight rope for months now." That's less humor and more honest truth and he tosses the papers onto the desk. Frankly, "To be Weyrleader? A turn ago I would have told you absolutely not. Today I don't know that I can give you that same answer and be truthful. But what happened this seven? Not in my plans."

The lift of her eyebrows might paint Vienne as a bit impressed with the twists and turns of his paranoid mind, whether he really puts any stock in such ideas or not. And she's a little amused too, judging by the way it tugs at one corner of her mouth. But Weyr politics... "Something like that. Being in the spotlight, making declarations..." She shakes her head -- not her thing. But her tidy heeled boots finally take a step and it's toward his desk, where she can lean a hip and let her arms fold around her short middle. "They must have known you wouldn't appreciate it, to do this while you were away. I wonder what they really meant to accomplish."

"Especially now, with the way that everything is." Z'ian rolls his eyes at the matter and gives a little shake of his head. "I don't know From what I can tell one of the greenrider's had a fallout with K'del," Was that a face he just made? "-a few days ago. She was an instigator along with one of the wingseconds. F'ren won't be working with me anymore, by the way." He exhales and stretches his long legs out in the short space. "So you said that this was giving you pause. But you haven't come to me with an outright no then. Was there something else that you wanted to discuss about it?"

Vienne might not notice the face Z'ian makes, since she's busy pulling one of her own, eyes rolling and mouth pinched to one side before she puts in her comment, "Who hasn't?" Had a recent falling out with K'del, that is. But the sigh that follows has her eyes dropping with a touch of earnest regret, perhaps enough so that she might miss the comments that follow about the changes to the wingseconds. Anyway, it seems they both need a moment to sigh and shift the topic back to the one that's been waiting too long as it is. Vienne slips a wry smile onto her face when he points out that she hasn't said no. "I'm not sure. I'm just hesitant. I respect you, Z'ian. I'd like to fly under you." It's just that there's a 'but' still hanging in the air. "I'm not sure what reassurance I need." It's part apology, part admission that some reassurance is wanted.

"Not me. Not yet." Z'ian replies simply, though there's a touch of 'I could be next' slipped into his tone. He reaches out and shuffles the sheets together, pulling one to top and patting into place. "Is it that you want the same things Snowdrift can offer? Because I can do that. Or is that you want more focus because we can do that too, if you switched over. I don't have plans on Boreal remaining a useless wing that just drills and drills for no reason." That comes pointedly and then, "I don't plan on filling the second wingsecond position for some time either. If you decided to come over and decided to stay with us?" He lifts his shoulders. "You could have a real future with us."

"I'd like that," Vienne smiles, perhaps a little sheepishly for how easily the bronzerider offers her such simple reassurances, as if recognizing just now how silly the hesitation was. "I'm sorry it took this long. I'd decided after the hatching, but..." Well, the timing never quite worked, did it. And anyway, it seems so effortlessly done now. "This thing with you being Weyrleader, it's not right. Not now. It feels like there isn't a moment for the Weyr to catch its breath before someone else is calling for a change, calling to choose sides. And everything is so personal." She shakes her head as her brow furrows and her eyes scan the floor thoughtfully.

"Well, your old Wingleader isn't particularly fond of me. I think she's been keeping us apart." Z'ian smirks, one corner of his mouth lifting and his eyebrows going with it. "I'll get you a schedule of our duties so that you can adjust accordingly. You can start with us whenever you like, though I have feeling you might want to come over sooner rather than later once she knows." Which could be anytime, doubtless someone has caught sight of Oswinth out there on his ledge and he's no Tacuseth. For her observation, he laughs and shakes his head side to side slowly. "No, it's not. I know that. I'd rather solidify what we have here now, worry about something like that further down the line. Whoever comes out on top now still has to win the next goldflight anyway as far as I see it. Why bother with causing more chaos when you can just wait?"

"Yes, right away," Vienne agrees with a rather disappointed kind of frown for her now-former wingleader and the antics she's been up to. "I have to warn, Oswinth is... slow to adjust sometimes. Snowdrift was very patient with him. He will get it, though. Just... if we don't perform well at first, have faith." Her smile is weak and hopeful and outside on the ledge, Oswinth shifts uncomfortably in front of the bronze who just became his leader. "It just seems strange to me," Vienne continues regarding the recent trouble. "Why make the bid now?" Not Z'ian, but his rebellious riders. "If it's a reaction to Brieli, Aishani," she corrects herself, though clearly the habit is lingering. "How would raising you help?" But it's not with skepticism or doubt that she asks, rather an honest pondering of the thought process.

"I know something of Oswinth's troubles." Z'ian confirms, sounding as if he's attempting to also be reassuring on the front as well. "Your performance in drills is hardly the sort of thing that I'm worried about. As long as you're there, awake and paying attention." Out on the ledge, Tsanth rumbles. He's reasonably polite to the uncomfortable shift of his current ledge partner. Whatever the dragons are discussing, the bronze uses it to distract him now and soothe the blue that's a new charge. "It's definitely some sort of reaction to that. People haven't been happy, they feel tricked. I don't know what they think the happy alternative really is to her at this point." He shakes his head. "I don't know, it wouldn't. But I'm going to be speaking with them, handing out the appropriate punishments and crossing my fingers that Taikrin doesn't wake up and come down on us."

Awake and paying attention. Vienne might just smirk a little for that. As if there were anything else that could be expected of her. And Oswinth, as much as he's a little reticent under all of Tsanth's attention, is prone to distraction and it doesn't really take all that long until they're probably confusing each other with loosely drawn comparisons that keep the topic morphing. "How are you... feeling about it?" Vienne asks of his own reaction, her little boots nudging out to increase the angle of her lean against his desk, back to it and hands missing, tucked inside her arms. As for the rest, she muses with concern, "There's so much mutiny in the air and no real changes to give any reason for it. Is anything really all that different?" she wonders of the man who has been here so much longer than herself, who knew the Weyr better before the flights created their unprecedented tizzy.

Tsanth is good company. And he doesn't mind the endless topic morphing if Oswinth doesn't mind the occasional reference to a good looking female that flies past the ledge. "About what, Aishani's coming out of the identity closet?" Z'ian asks to clarify, throwing his feet up onto the desk again. "Like a bunch of pieces to the puzzle fell into place. Oddly, I feel better being around her than I did before. Vijay or not." And if that seems odd, he just has a shrug for it. "The only thing that's changed is personal perspective for other people. Aishani is no different today than yesterday, really. But their perception of her father colors their perception of her. So they'd rather go back and pretend like two sevens ago they didn't think Azaylia was completely incompetent. None of that makes any different in actual reality, but to the people. I guess it's everything." He shakes his head and sighs. "I'm not crazy for Taikrin. But I was beginning to think we'd at least get two mostly quiet turns."

Vienne has a nod to confirm for Z'ian, her glance coming over to rest on his face as he gives his answer and his shrug. "Pieces of the puzzle?" she asks, though surely it's not the turn of phrase that makes her curious. "She seems to be handling it well. It's harsh, that moment when someone you wanted to trust looks at you like a stranger or looks at you with all kinds of new ideas about who you are. I'm not entirely sure she isn't a bit different, but there's no reason to believe her capacity as a Weyrwoman has changed." So basically, she and Z'ian are in agreement. And now she glance around his weyr with a more pointed interest. "Do you have anything to drink?" Some host he is. And meanwhile, "What was it like with the Vijay. People keep talking but... I can't decipher the truth from the exaggeration."

"Have you heard the expression, the victors write history?" Z'ian mentions, an eyebrow going up with a lopsided smile. There's not much in his tiny office other than that bottle of alcohol and the one clean glass. He picks both of them up and hands them to her, not really waiting to see if she exactly wants them. The bronzerider stands from his chair and heads down the passage to the living area, "Sorry. You'll probably be more comfortable out here." Where there's a small table to sit at and a couch too, if she wants to actually relax. "I was only here a few turns, just getting it together as rider at all. N'thei made this deal that the Vijay's could store some crap in our storerooms. Instead, they stole a bunch of expensive shit. Investigations, blah, blah. Some guy goes to the mines and the Vijay's get the boot. Some time passes and they start raiding caravans to the Weyr. Maybe they're pissed about getting kicked out, maybe they're just a bunch of assholes. Who really knows? Rumor has it that a group of hard asses from Glacier got involved with support from K'del and Tiriana. It leads to the inevitable discovery of their hiding place, Aishani's father and her family are caught. Weyrleadership decides that hanging is an appropriate punishment for theft." It doesn't look like that's so cool with the Wingleader, but anyway. He pulls another glass off of the shelf and heads to the table. "More or less what you heard?"

Vienne takes the glass and bottle obediently, but the dead blink she has in response is probably a giveaway that this was not quite the kind of drink she was after. Someone's used to entertaining a very different sort of bluerider. But Z'ian is up and walking and Vienne follows him in silence, toting the booze along. As for the story, "More or less," she confirms. "Usually with a bit more spin about 'those awful Vijay'." So it might seem to be some comfort to the small woman that her new Wingleader doesn't feel the need to weave any extra vehemence into the tale, even leaving a little room for doubt about the Weyr's actions. "Given the way people have responded," she remarks, heading to the table to set the liquor down so she can pull out a chair. "Aishani wasn't wrong to hide her past. She might have been turned away outright." But there's some other thought lurking behind the faint press of her brows. It's true. It's also true that there isn't a hint of there being anything other than alcohol as a beverage here in Z'ian's weyr, so water probably is not about to be offered. When the liquor is placed on the table he slides it towards himself and pours her glass and then his own. "Yeah, people were pretty upset. I can't say that I blame anyone for it, they were taking things that we really needed. I hear that vital supplies are vital to survival and such." There's an exagerrated wave of his hand from the wrist and a wry smile. He slips into the chair across from her. "Undoubtedly. If I was her, I'd probably hide it too. But I can't deny that I sensed a certain 'fuck you and up yours' when she told everyone to keep enjoying the party after her announcement." The bronzerider lifts his shoulders then, shrugging. "I'm not convinced it affects her overall capacity either and as much as I didn't believe it months ago, she might be better for us."

If liquor is all there is, Vienne is hardly so impolite a guest as to refuse it. She takes her glass and curls it toward her on the table, even if she isn't quick to drink just yet. "No, it sounds like it was a bad time," she puts in as he talks about the vital vitals, certainly having no interest in belittling what happened. "It makes me wonder... just what brought her here. Was it a 'fuck you' or did she want to prove something? To herself, or the Weyr..." The bluerider hardly knows and now she shakes her head to quell her own speculation. "She's smart and strong and determined. To live like she has takes self control." For a beat, she bites her lip and then adds, "It may balance the qualities that other people have." And, having said that, she will chase the words with a drink. "K'del seems to believe she wants only to hurt him."

Z'ian takes his drink before her, clearly used to the familiar burn of it going down his throat. "I don't know. I think that it's probably something from every category." He shakes his head again, listening to her intently. "If I thought K'del was the reason my father was strung up and executed, I might want to hurt him too. Is it the only reason she's here now? I can't answer that. And what of you, do you think her sole purpose is all part of some nefarious plan to destroy our weyr?" He asks, assessing as he takes another more reserved swallow.

"He said she wasted her life," Vienne begins as her response, holding her glass in her lap, eyes narrowed faintly across the table at Z'ian in a way that suggests her thoughts have gone a bit distant, remote. "She told me that. And laughed. She has something bigger than her past, than what brought here and had her keeping her secrets. She has Iesaryth, she has N'rov and now she has the Weyr. It's a life most people would dream about and wish for. She lost everything once and now she has this. She can't destroy it without losing everything again, without destroying herself. The Weyr's success is her success. And if she goes down, why not take everyone with her?" And slowly the bluerider comes back to the present, a smile of apology when she realizes that she's been gone, perhaps when she realizes that she's been muse aloud. "The victors write history. The best revenge is living well." So there, it's a night for old sayings. Vienne lifts her glass to quick a smile over the rim at Z'ian, as if somehow all these fluid thoughts were a reasonable answer to his question.

"She's barely a woman grown now. How could she have wasted her life already?" There's a certain amount of disbelief hanging in Z'ian's voice. His mouth forms into a firm line of something that's definitely not approval there. He's silent once more, listening to Vienne again. That drink of amber liquid comes up to his displeased mouth and he takes a long swallow from it. "I don't think that she would destroy it now. I think she's exacted a certain amount of revenge already, the real question is whether she can keep it now that the secret is out. I guess we'll find out who's going to be writing history in a few more turns." If he's put off by that fluid line of thoughts, there's not sight of it there in his face. "I think that I'm going to enjoy working with you." He concludes after a moment of quiet.

"I can't say that I know what her plans are, if there are plans at all, but I do feel like she has the ability to tackle problems, to seek advice and consider perspectives, to address issues rather than hide from them..." Vienne continues, a bit of that drifty theory coming back to her voice. "She hardly has the worst history, compared to a number of riders who impressed before her. Convicts, exiles..." There's really all manner of shady people around, but then a circus usually does have carnies. Before she can muse too much further, though, Z'ian's comment pulls her up short, a blink and a bashful grin for the man across the table. "I'm glad you still want me," she admits. "My friendship with Br-Aishani has garnered some... unflattering reactions."

"No, there are certainly worse people here. But maybe we're all thinking much too hard now, maybe there isn't any great mystery this." Z'ian shakes his head, a vague look of frustration passing over his face. But it passes and goes, he doesn't verbalize whatever it was exactly. Shaking his head and looking a little confused, "I don't see how your friendship with Aishani does anything other than help us. Which really, since you're in the fold now brings up something that I'd been thinking about recently. Not specifically related to our Weyrleadership, but more the state of our Weyr at large, in the world."

Overthinking. It wouldn't be the first time someone had accused Vienne of such things, even if Z'ian doesn't do so in so many words. But it's an apologetic smile she gvies him, a faint meekness with which she takes a sip of her drink. It might look like she's about to offer up some idea about how friendship with Aishani might have downsides, but has her Wingleader segues so neatly, Vienne herself forgets it in favor of these new mysteries. "What did you have in mind?"

It more than likely wasn't an accusation, but as with so many things... It's easy to lose the actual meaning of it or for it to be misunderstood. Since they're so neatly moving on to the next subject, it's his own fault that he misses the meekness to her smile. He takes another sip from his glass before he puts it down on the table, rolling the bottom against the wood. "I'd like to slowly cut down on the amount of drills the wing has done, cut it in half over the next turn. I'd like to focus on securing more transport duty for Boreal." Which probably sounds strange, so he holds up a finger. "Out of weyr transport. Items, people, whatever. As time marches on, I want focus on recruiting riders who are..." He pauses looking for the right word. "Adept at making friends? Or riders that already have connections. The ultimate goal is that on the sly, we're gathering information from around Pern that might relevant to us here at High Reaches. Other weyrs have their own eyes and ears, why shouldn't we have our own?" And if Z'ian and Vienne are where the information flows through on the way to where it ultimately ends up, all the better. Right?

Vienne is quiet as the plan is laid out, fingers perched around the sides of her cup, waiting to hear the whole thing before she comments. "May I ask why a turn? Do you mean make the change less noticeable?" Her eye narrows just faintly, mouth a little pinched as she thinks through the points he's laid out. "You mean to look for transport jobs from our holds to those in other coverage?" Since its easy enough for a rider to linger about anywhere within the region, she gathers that isn't the goal. "Who would know?" she wonders, perhaps a little warily. "Just... a wing to be about and keep eyes and ears open?" Her glance slips around the room, looking at nothing in particular as her mind works.

"That's the idea. Why, too short? Too long?" Z'ian is genuinely interested in her opinion on the timeframe, clearly. "Yeah, to areas outside of our coverage area. Other holds, maybe other weyrs if we're able to get an in with them." As for who would know, the bronzerider gives an indistinct shrug of his shoulders. "Right now, no one knows. It's something of a pet project to even see if it could be done successfully and well. I'm not expecting us to break any huge political secrets. And it's also more of a gradual change. When we have stable leadership, then we can broach it with them." While she's looking around, he's watching her carefully in an attempt to gauge her reaction. "Yes. Solely an eyes and ears operation. We're not making any moves to interfere with anything."

"It could be faster, perhaps, under the guise of something else," Vienne muses back, though she doesn't seem to have anything in mind yet. "A turn is a long time." But her fingers are tapping lightly along the glass, her gaze skipping off again while she sits rather silently. "What about crafters? They go everywhere, regardless of coverage. It might be awkward to approach any one craft and offer what their own Weyr could, but looked at it from the other perspective... Go to our smaller holds, find out what crafters they could use a visit from, try to make those arrangements in their interest. It could at least translate into contacts at the Halls." It's just brainstorming, she's still considering herself if there's any value to the idea, though another sip of her drink seems to be a dissatisfying distraction. But there's something else, too. "So you don't mean to tell Aishani or Taikrin yet. Not about the long term goals."

"Isn't that a perspective issue? Is a turn really that long? But if we can find a plausible way to speed it up, then certainly. I don't have any objections to that." Z'ian goes along easily enough, leaning back in his chair. "And I think that's really what I'm more interested in. We don't need official connections anywhere, exactly. Just good people that know how to meet other people and take opportunities. That can make friends. Of course, it helps if they already have an in of their own. But that's jumping the gun to recruitment and we're not quite at that point." He drains the rest of the liquid from the glass. "Not yet, they're not necessarily our long term leaders. And what would I really tell them? I want to get some good conversationalists enlisted in my ranks." The bronzerider cracks a smile for the first time in awhile, likely aware that there are certainly some pitfalls to the burgeoning plan that have to be worked out.

Vienne tips her head for the length of a turn, giving it some consideration. But if he's not married to a length of time then she can only say, "With so many things changing, I doubt that anyone would think there is something strange about a new Wingleader making adjustments. But I do understand the appeal of subtlety," she tacks on with a rather knowing smile. As for their unofficial connections, "I'll see what else I can come up with, if you're looking for idea. And I can keep an eye out for people, if you like." People who are good conversationalists. As for the leaders, she draws in a long breath before she puts on a sweet, innocent smile. "There really isn't anything to tell." It's only a full beat later that she lets the grin get a little cheeky. "I do think it's wise," she agrees, a bit vaguely but perhaps just all encompassingly.

Z'ian reaches across the table for the bottle, refilling his glass. He pushes it back over to Vienne, leaving her with the option of doing it herself if she so chooses. He'd have a response for that sweet, innocent smile that really says so much. But instead he just has one of his own, crooked and amused as he stretches his legs out. "So that's about that." Which draws to a conclusion this segment of their conversation. "Why don't I write over a copy of the schedule for the next month. This way you can start tomorrow with us." He suggests, drawing himself to his feet. She can follow him if she wants or wait, but he'll get her that copy and they can go over it and finish their drinks. Hopefully by the end he'll be brave enough to leave the weyr and face the looks he'll get down in the bowl.