Difference between revisions of "Logs:Acts of Conscience"

>---< The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr(#700RJ) >-----------------------------------<

  The main, double doors that lead in to the tavern are, as a rule, left    

  open, leading into the wide main room of the tavern. Directly across from 

  the entrance, stretched across the long back wall, stands the focus of the

  room, indeed the entire building; the bar is made of a deep, red-brown    

  wood and polished to a heady shine and behind it shelves stand with rows  

  of clean glasses and tankards of all sizes and shapes. To the left of the 

  bar is a staircase that allows access to a mundane upper story, a single  

  hall lined with modest rooms for rent, and to the right is an arched      

  doorway leading to a darker gaming room. But most of the action happens   

  out in the middle, in among the haphazardly arranged tables and their     

  allotted chairs. Though there are a few feminine touches draped around, a 

  sage green curtain here or a coral red tablecloth there, when the tall    

  room is filled with people there is no mistaking the testosterone-driven  

  atmosphere of the place.

>---< Mad Smithcrafter's Den Weyr, High Reaches Weyr(#649R) >----------------<



  There is ample room in both the couch and rider's living areas for        

  visitors to stretch out comfortably. A massive quilted curtain comprised  

  of rich greens, blues, golds and oranges hangs on a curved rod. The       

  curtain can be drawn closed for privacy between the two spaces whenever   

  desired or tied back out of the way.                                      

                                                                            

  Work-areas have been arranged around the room carved into the very cavern 

  walls themselves, each equipped with it's own curtians to hide the area   

  from view of visitors. The stations are comprised of exceptionally        

  spacious stone counter-tops, with stone shelves and tool hooks above.     

  Nearest the hearth, one of these counters contains a utilitarian sink with

  a pump and copper piping attached disappearing up into the ceiling and    

  along the edge of the wall to the ledge outside where it discretely drops 

  off for drainage into the Bowl wall. If one follows the pipe through the  

  ceiling it leads to a large metal cistern tucked into a niche above the   

  entrance of the weyr.                                                     

                                                                            

  Of the furnishings the bed is perhaps the most noticeable, Large, and     

  bolted into the ceiling by sturdy chains it can be raised and lowered via 

  another pulley system, and piled high with quilts and pillows in the same 

  rich blues and greens. A large overstuffed couch is settled in front of   

  the hearth and the rest of the furnishings, desk, table chairs and the    

  like either fold into the wall or into a niche to make more space when    

  needed.                                                                   

                                                                            

  From the ceiling dozens of wine and liquor bottles in various colors have 

  been converted to glow baskets, bathing the room in soft multi colored    

  light and hang at various lengths. The hearth is a large affair with an   

  actual oven carved into one of its walls and a metal grill that can be    

  pulled out over the flame for cooking. An assortment of large pots, dishes

  and spices assorted for use. A nearby niche sports three medium sized     

  barrels tapped and stacked in a vertical rack. They sit next to an over   

  large wine cabinet that someone has recently painted with maps and scenes 

  from all over Pern. Perhaps the den of some mad former smithcrafter with  

  too much time on his or her hands during the interval, or perhaps more    

  recently an equally mad former scribe, obsessed with good vintages and    

  color.

Evening has hit firmly, and as has been her MO for the last few sevens Silva is out and about, already tipsy with pre-drinking. Zaisyreth is left behind, a goodly ways away from the bar that Silva makes for. He doesn't follow her - or try to get closer, but the way he shifts in place hints at his discomfort. Silva's dressed to kill, though her last few outfits have had one distinctive characteristic, one long sleeve while the other is barely more than a spaghetti strap. Her low cut-back is cut with straps across that make getting a clear look of the skin below difficult, but it almost seems like there are some strange shadows there. At the doorway to the tavern, she stops, then reaches up to take off her dragonrider knot. Then bending, she tucks it a light jacket she carries.

Edyis has been subtle in her shadowing of the young bluerider, skills from a different life now serving in this one. Decked out in tightly fitted leather, sans knot there's not much to indicate she's a rider at all. Akluseth lands after the bluerider has already disappeared into the bar. Warm restless currents reaching out to the anxious blue, in ribbons of emerald and cerulean water. « Not to worry little bro. Ed will keep an eye on her. » The brown offers as his rider slips off his neck and studies the blue a moment before following after.

Subtly is not something that anyone has ever accused Silva of being. She is completely ignorant of the rider following her, and while Zaisyreth loves her to distraction, he doesn't give even the slightest hint to his rider that she might not be alone. Instead, he'll send a dry breeze of thanks to the brown, and try to calm some of his agitation, limiting it to a small flick of his tail. With her ridership hidden Silva reaches up and pushes open the door. In what those who know her would see as a complete act Silva sways herself over to the bar and drapes herself upon it. Her whole posture is giving welcome to anyone who might slide into that opening.

Edyis hesitates for only a moment, before confident steps bear her to the bar, slipping almost silently into the stool next to Silva, and waving down the bartender. "So how long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?" Her soft soprano barely a whisper, as dark eyes fix on the young bluerider. "Not that I take issue with the whole free-spirited thing, but I think we both know that isn't what this is."

How much air can Silva get? They'll just test that question as the bluerider jerks herself upright and looks wide-eyed at the bluerider. A few blinks before she turns her back on the rest of the bar and hisses, "What are you doing?" Her bare arm comes and settles across the other like she might be able to hide it more than the cloth upon it does.

"Me? I'm having a drink." Edyis answers blithely as her glass arrives. Dark eyes scanning the occupants of the bar in the process. "What are you doing?" The brownrider returns lifting her glass to her lips.

Tipsy Silva isn't up to the task of serious logic puzzles like figuring out there's something more behind Edyis' statement that she's here for a drink. Silva eyes her, as her own drink gets delivered. It's a small but very strong drink, something that will have the small rider senseless if she's not careful. It'll get ignored, as she'll carefully try, "Drinking?" It worked for Edyis?

Edyis knows strong liquor when she sees it, but if she's concerned about Silva being senseless it doesn't show. "I noticed. Seems like you've been doing a fair bit of it lately, drinking that is." Setting the glass on the table and bracing both elbows there. Despite its bluntness, there's little of accusation in the statement. Rather a note of concern. "I can take guesses as to why, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who likes talking about, or admitting you have problems. Figure the least I can do is see to it you can get back home safely when you are done with whatever this is."

"And?" It's a bit of a belligerent response, too belligerent, and Silva abruptly pulls herself back from that ledge. Being less of a jerk is part of this new thing she's trying. Turning her face away she allows the brown lengths to fall over her face and hide her expression. "Sorry." It sounds sincere enough. "I'm fine. I don't always get back before dawn."

Ink-dark eyes focus on the bluerider brows drawn together. "It's okay, I've been there." Ed intones softly. "Maybe not the exact situation, but I think I can take a pretty good guess at what's going on. If you want to talk to someone about it that is. Otherwise, I can be bar buddy until you pick a fight with someone three times my size, then you are on your own." Her lips curling at the joke.

Silva is just going to reach up and twitch her hair back into place. She still hasn't taken a drink, but she does slide a look sideways. "So what do you think what is happening?"

"Well could be a couple things," Edyis notes lifting her glass. "Seems like you are trying to change something about yourself." Her gaze shifts back to the younger woman, "What I'm not entirely sure of, is just who it is you are trying to be."

Silva drags a finger along the edge of her glass, the slight ring it makes not reaching far beyond their ears. "Maybe I'm just being who I always was."

The brownrider considers that for a moment and tilts her head. "If it is who you always were, why does it take liquid courage for you to go on these little excursions? And why is it you always go to places where you think no one will know who you are?" Her soprano softens at the end, not carrying any farther than their seats.

Silva has no answer for that. But she WILL steel her nerves and reach down to that glass. Rather than take her time and maybe chicken out, Silva downs the drink and winces against the burn. "I can't explain it."

Edyis mms quietly, brows lifting slightly at the downing of the drink. "Try me."

Silva traces the edges of her now empty cup again. It'll take some time for that drink to hit, so tipsy is her head still. A stool gets moved over and Silva settles herself on the edge. "It's just... I know I'm not any use. For anything. But the other day," names will just get left, "it hit me that if I did... something different, maybe someone else would get something out of it."

Edyis listens quietly, nodding a little as the bluerider speaks. "What makes you say you aren't any use?"

Silva rolls her eyes. "Because I'm not. I was useless before I was searched. And even now I barely do anything of note. I told.." except Silva catches herself sharing too much and snaps her mouth closed. "And it's not... not fun. When I'm here, when... you know. I don't have to think then."

Edyis studies Silva for a long time. "You know before I stood," She starts taking a moment to find the words, "I was the middle daughter of a minor holder. I had wanted something more out of my life but I had always been too afraid to reach for it." There's a pause, and a frown, "If there's one thing I've learned since leaving home, it is that nobody is useless. Just because you don't have the power to do something big, doesn't mean that what you can do doesn't matter."

"I never thought like that. I was supposed to get married off, have babies, and that was it. I mean, I love Zaisyreth and wouldn't give him up but... there's nothing there but doing wing stuff and making it through the day. I've pretty much made myself completely unlikable." Alas, the alcohol which is making Silva speak too much. "At least my parents don't know."

"If those are the things you want, you can still do them you know. I mean the Weyr woman seems to be all over the spawning bit. Weyrmating isn't exactly marriage but there's a lot of strong couples out there. Have you tried talking to your Wingleader about it? Let him know you want something more?" She doesn't touch the comment on parents. "You think they wouldn't approve?"

"Yes, F'manis would totally be down with that. His most useless rider even //more// useless because she's pregnant." Firm eye roll. The strong drink Silva just downed is taking a hold, and Silva's tongue is only going to get looser. "I talked to someone and they told me how to make sure it doesn't happen. If it does. They don't know I ever impressed. We finally told them, my aunt, a bull shit story about how I'd met someone, but he had to leave, and it was too far to travel in the winter.... whatever. So they don't have to worry or whatever." Suddenly she straightens up, fixing her dress and turning her back on Edyis. "But like, none of it matters. I can get pretty, someone will admire me and if they want more then... whatever. I get something, they do too, win-win."

Ed's eyebrows creep upward a little more with every revelation. She is busy trying to process it all. Mention of pregnancy hardens her expression just a faint touch but mostly she just listens. Unsure of where to start first. "I am pretty sure they'd be more worried about you drinking yourself senseless in strange places than they would about your blue." But there's something, maybe guilt, hidden just at the edges of her expression.

If Silva remembers this the next day she's going to be seriously unhappy. But for right now... she's drunk and talking way too much. "It doesn't matter. Because they're never going to know. I can always switch when things have to happen in Tillek, and Jocelyn said she wouldn't say anything. So like, whatever. They'll never know either way." She's smoothing her dress down and the slits move just enough to show the bruises along her backside. "I want to dance." A swift change of topic.

Whatever Edyis wants to say to that, goes unsaid, but the bruises, those are about the last straw. "When was the last time you went to see a healer for those?"

"What?" Silva turns to look at Edyis, trying to focus on the other rider, but really starting to feel the alcohol. "Do you want to dance?" She holds out a hand to Edyis.

Edyis frowns, but slides off the barstool and accepts the hand, if for no other reason than to make sure the bluerider doesn't fall flat on her face. "You sure you are up to this?"

Silva tugs at Edyis, pulling her towards the middle of the floor. There's no music playing but that's okay, right? Totally normal. "Look, I promise, it feels good. Just... let it go. Okay?"

"That isn't - " she doesn't get the chance to finish as she gets tugged to the middle of the floor. The no music thing, however, that is problematic. She watches Silva's cue, expecting ... who knows what at this point.

For all her other faults, which are many, when Silva wants to she can be drop-dead beautiful. She puts on the show of carefree but not-so-innocent on very well. She'll let go of Edyis when they reach the middle and starts to dance. Hands in the air, swaying to a beat only she can hear, it's designed to do one thing - attract someone else to come. And it doesn't take long before two men break off, and then more, many turning to stare at Silva, and Edyis.

Never let it be said that Edyis is a total stick in the mud, she joins in, humming a melody at first before the humming breaks into singing. Still, she's not so lost to the song that she doesn't notice the men breaking off.

Not too long after the men break off, some shake their heads and go back to their conversations... and two stand up and approach the two women. They have a bit of a swagger as they come close, stopping just a foot away. "Need partners?" At least they're asking? Silva lets out a small giggle and chooses one of the men at random, and pulls him into her dance.

"Thanks but you aren't my type, Sorry," Ed notes with a saccharine smile, all the while keeping an eye on Silva. "And not to ruin the mood, but." She reaches to tug on Silva's wrist aiming to pull her in with a twirl. "I already have a partner." Dark eyes focusing on Silva, assessing how hard that drink has hit her.

Silva's three sheets to the wind and when Edyis pulls her away from her partner she stumbles right into the other rider's arms. The partner she'd been moving towards says a firm, "Hey!" as Silva looks up at Edyis. Edyis' partner takes being turned down in good enough humor and reaches for his buddy. "Leave the whores to themselves if they want."

If she didn't have a drunken bluerider to deal with, those might have been fighting words. Instead, she moves to spin the bluerider in a twirl. "We are leaving now." Comes in a fierce murmur through clenched teeth. And if she tries to protest, well Ed seems prepared to throw Silva over her shoulder and carry her out. « Mine wants you to come home with us. » Akluseth shares, an image of reaches and their ledge shared crisply.

Drunk as she is Silva hasn't forgotten why she came here. There's a need she hasn't had filled yet, and there's a longing in her look as she clings to Edyis. "I can't. I can't. Not yet. There's nothing if I go back." Zaisyreth answers Akluseth in the affirmatively, trying, and failing to reach into Silva's mind and sway her, past the iron bars Silva's settled against his quiet and loving persuasion. Finally, he'll break Silva's confidence as only he can do in a moment of crisis, « She wants to hurt. »

Whatever Akluseth shares of the conversation, whatever Silva's protests are, Ed isn't swayed. If anything her resolve is that much firmer scooping the bluerider over her shoulder unceremoniously and bearing her out of the bar. It isn't until they are halfway back on the path that Ed dares speak, a thin edge of something in her voice. A hardness mixed in. "You lost the right to destroy yourself the day you impressed him."

Silva's going to struggle, she really does. But between being drunk and not being that physically impressive in the first place it probably doesn't do much good. "It's my choice! Edyis, please, please, just... please..." And slowly she's going to stop struggling and instead start crying.

The pleading falls on deaf ears, or at least it seems to as Akluseth lowers himself enough to help Ed get the bluerider on. She gives the blue a look, and again Akluseth shares the image clearly of home and their ledge. « Our weyr is pretty warm. » And once they are assured of the blue's ability to follow safely it is a blink between and back into the air above reaches.

This is where training will kick in, and while Silva probably //could// have found a way to run... she doesn't. Instead, she hangs on, burying her face in the brown's back, and continuing to cry all the way back as Zaisyreth follows, silent again.

Landing dismounting and getting through the metal door doesn't take much effort, and Edyis guides if not carries the bluerider to the couch piled in colorful quilts while she starts the fire. Akluseth makes room in the dragon area and invites his buddy blue in closing the metal door once everyone's inside. After the fire's going Ed walks over and digs a pair of turquoise flannel pajamas out, with ovines embroidered on them and tosses them at Silva. "I'll have hot water in the basin shortly, but those should fit. If you want to hit something, the punching bag is over there." Ed thumbs in the direction of the patchwork leather bag hanging from a chain near the back. The green firelizard perched on the elaborate bookcase opens a jeweled eye to inspect the newcomers sleepily.

Silva allows the being taken into the weyr - three sheets to the wind yes, and unstable completely. At least she can follow directions, and at Edyis' Silva slowly begins to peel off her clothing. The purpose of that one long sleeve gets revealed when a cascade of bruises shows itself. They travel along her body, with more cuts and scrapes than a normal rider should have along her back and legs. It's a miracle that her one arm doesn't have bruises also from the way the rest of her looks. It's also clear the //amount// of makeup she's wearing, mostly because it's not dealing with her make-up well.

Ed's eyes go wide when she sees the damage. She goes to one of the shelves and pulls down a jar of salve, and sets it aside as well. "Use that on the bruises, Faranth, I thought I looked awful when I was first learning to fight. You need to see a healer in the morning." Moving back to pull some goods out of a basket. She drops several ingredients into a large soup pot, and sets it on the fire and adds another bucket to heat up for washing. That done Ed changes into a set of green flannel pajamas with fire lizards embroidered on them, but if watched it's likely Silva would get a good look at the tattoo's swirling over her upper body.

Silva slowly pulls on the clothing - no doubt she'll be aghast tomorrow when she wakes up and sees what she is wearing. (Silva cares about clothing.) The salve doesn't get put on, mostly because she's too busy curling up into a ball and hiding her eyes, as if Edyis can't see her if Silva can't see Edyis. Not before she sees the tattoo, but she doesn't comment just yet. Her shoulders move with tears that are now silent before, finally, "Why didn't you just leave me?"

"Because there are some ways in which we are very much alike, and because I'm selfish enough not to want to deal with the guilt of knowing what might have happened if I did leave you there." Her voice is soft, lacking the sharpness it bore earlier. A kettle is also hung on a hook over the hearth, and then the former scribe tugs down another of the plethora of quilts covering the weeping bluerider with it.

"It's all happened before." Which those bruises can attest. Surprise has Silva looking up at Edyis, tears still falling down her cheeks. "It's...." But what else can she say in the face of such obvious caring?

"You don't have to explain anything tonight if you don't want to." Edyis declares fetching two bowls and ladling the stew into them. She sets one on the table in front of the couch for Silva, keeping the other for herself. "Normally I'd offer wine but given the givens, I think tea is best."

But there's a clear difference between Quint asking when Silva's sober as she does a walk of shame, and drunk, settled in someone else's clothes, with warm tea, a blanket over her shoulders, and someone showing caring //in the moment//. "I'm a bitch." Just lead off with that. "Mean, self-centered... whatever." She takes the tea with one hand and opens her other in front of her. "But... when it hurts... I don't feel so mean."

Edyis hmms, stoking up the fire, before returning with two mugs of what smells like chamomile tea. "So you are punishing yourself for your bad qualities?" She murmurs, as though to ensure she understands the issue. "Adjusting to a life where your own wants and needs have to come secondary is challenging for anybody. "

Silva curls her hands around the tea, but she doesn't drink. Instead her head sinks lower and she'll just look into the rings on the surface of the liquid. The second has her raising her eyes up again, pure confusion. "What?"

"What you are doing." Edyis comments again slowly, settling herself on the other end of the couch. "getting yourself beat up like that, it isn't just your body or your choice anymore. That can be a hard thing to remember even after you've been impressed for two turns."

Still pure confusion here, and Silva's starting to show a few signs of sobriety. Just flashes. It's in pure question form as she offers forth, "Zaisy?"

Edyis nods. "His life is entirely dependent upon you. When a rider dies, is injured, or sick it has an impact on them." Her chin tilting to the brown who is still making sure the blue's got enough space to be comfortable. "Every choice you make you have to factor in his well being. The beautiful thing about dragons though is no matter how selfish you may have been, they are quick to forgive and don't hold much in the way of grudges."

Finally, life from Silva. "Zaisy loves me." Passion underwrites her words, no matter the fact that the words also come out slightly slurred. The tea gets carefully set down. "He's always loved me. And he lets me make my choices. Always."

"That has never been the question sweetheart. The question is do you love him enough to learn how to love yourself." The scribe finishes her bowl and gets up dropping it into the sink. "You are welcome to the couch, or the bed's probably big enough to fit four. Think about it, though, promise?"

"No, no. Zaisy loves me. Just me. Even when I'm a bitch. Or Mean. Or Self-centered. Zaisy loves me." This is a REALLY IMPORTANT POINT. Never mind her slurring the word loved. A tear streaks down her cheek again, but this time, it doesn't have the same frenzied taste to it that her previous tears had. Her head dips down against the couch's arm, and in a very small voice, "I don't want to be alone."

Edyis moves the lever that lowers the bed and pulls back the curtain separating the dragon living space from the human. "Make sure he knows not to cross the chalked line," Zaisy she must mean. "Akluseth got the pully system stuck once and I had to have Z'kiel come over and rescue me from my bed. Talk about embarrassing." Folding back the blankets and throwing a few more of the quilts on top of the chain suspended bed. Assuming that Silva's comment means she intends to use the bed.

Zaisyreth will hear this, and transmit to Edyis in understanding. In fact, he's just going to take up the stream of this conversation for Silva altogether. It's strange and uncomfortable, but he'll talk straight to Edyis. « She wants me to take her somewhere. » Silva's trying to stand up, but she's managed to get herself tangled in the quilt Edyis has wrapped around her and is just going to end up on the floor. And tea. Tea is just going to go everywhere.

"Oh for Faranth's sake. You indulge her too much." She points accusatorially at the blue, "And she's not in any condition to go anywhere." The tea and the Silva tangle gets eyed. « Yeah, Ed's not budging on this one man. Sorry. » Silva gets scooped up, and once it is determined that the quilt isn't soaked in tea (even if everything else is) She tucks the bluerider into the bed. "You can cuss me out in the morning."

Zaisyreth knows this, he really does. But it's not like he can reach in there and take his rider. So instead he'll just crouch there - probably awake all night, and wait with the patience of stone. Silva's done fighting. All done. In the bed, she'll cover her head with a blanket and fall into some of the most restless sleep ever. In her make-up. Oh dear.