Logs:Plans for the End
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| RL Date: 8 May, 2013 |
| Who: Athimeroth, C'wlin |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: C'wlin makes plans as his Wingleadership draws nearer to a close, Athimeroth (as always) provides helpful advice. |
| Where: Lofted Dreams Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions, D'kan/Mentions, E'sren/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, N'hax/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Solith/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: I wanted to explore another aspect of C'wlin's leadership. The very public and the 'what comes after'. |
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| Night has fallen; stars twinkle in a sky made of deep, midnight-blue with the faintest touch of azure still lingering on the fringes of the horizon where Rukbat's fall has nearly been completed. Fanciful, this autumn night with it's twin moons full and large like the eyes of a feline high in the sky. Milky white light spills across the narrow ledge, and the deeper opening within. Athimeroth fills the portal's opening with his ever-growing form; no intruder will come this night. Deeper within, C'wlin has grabbed solitude as the mantle of the hour, candles and fancy lanturns set around the weyr. Candlelight dances intricate shadow'd shapes against the detailed stonework of the weyr's walls. Half-installed are the beginnings of sconces with the same fanciful cut-out shapes to make the shadow caricatures permanent. It's not a quiet night at home that he finds himself in, but rather the chaotic cacophany of charts. Hides. Work. Tacked with a sticky gum material, hides cling to the stone walls. Upon each hide is written extensive notes on every member of the wing. Strengths. Weaknesses. What to improve, what needs no improvement. Pacing, he chews the large nail of his thumb, cold blue eyes examining his pin-up with calculated interest. "So, bearing this..." he mutters to himself, swapping Alida's hide with K'zin's hide, until he's satisfied. A flat palm smashes against the stone to re-adhere the gummy substance to their new locations. Winds are only at a bluster, night settling around Athimeroth like a sleepy blanket woven of warmth and wool. « You should not be wasting your time on this. » Words stated as a negative yet come with tacit approval for the ultimate goal of the exercise occuring in the weyr. « Or at least, you should let them know. » (Athimeroth to C'wlin) Frowning, C'wlin shoots Athimeroth a look bordering on irritation. "If everything were up to you, we would be grasping for Weyrleader right about now, but none would have us and it'd be stupid to set one's self up for the chopping block like that." Dourness overcomes irritation as the bronzerider weyrling wingleader turns back to his task. He shuffles forward and tugs D'kan's hide off the wall, the gummy substance stretching a bit before plinging back together on the hide. C'wlin sticks the hide up higher and to the right. Next to Telavi's name. N'hax's name. E'sren and Sabella are clustered together, corners overlapping. "What do you think?" he asks the bronze, who's up-high-sight often shows details he missed. Aether chills, stars blindingly brilliant when atmosphere is at its thinnest. Banners whip in the distance, in blues and greens. « I suppose that's good. » It's not boredom that infiltrates the rough tenor that drops to gutteral tones. « It will make you friends. » Pride adds warming skeins of wind to the aether's tight grip. (Athimeroth to C'wlin) "I'm not doing it because of friendship," C'wlin counters, once more glaring towards the bronze. "Although, that couldn't hurt." Perhaps the boy feels all alone, though expression nor demeanor give any indication of such things. "But, they earned it." Turning away from his wall of current weyrlings, he moves towards the table and picks up the shiny bits of silver that litter across the table's surface. They glint with warmth from the candlelight, each bit of silver -- it is questionable just how C'wlin could come across the pale metal -- is engraved with something. "I want to be different." Before Athimeroth can announce why this is a bad idea, he shushes the bronze with a staying hand. "To be memorable." To be memorable. Shifting against the stone, weathered bronze disappears to the shadows but for the burnished glow of the brassier parts of him. Tarnished wings provide the veil behind which eyes of midnight blue whirl lazily. « Memorable. » Approval is a rich jet stream of dry heat, curling through the iciness of aether. Of space. Of starry skies. « It is good then. I approve. And may give you that silver thread that the others want so much. » (Athimeroth to C'wlin) C'wlin's eyes roll. "I don't care about that." Amusement glitters in cold blue eyes -- not unlike the far reaches of the aether in which Athimeroth lives -- "It's transient. It may as well be fake gold for all that it will make a difference in what's to come. What will make a difference is how we integrate with the powers at play." C'wlin is the master of subtle plans compared to Athimeroth's bold, grasp of perceived power. Playing with one of the silver bits, he taps it testingly against the wood of the table. "What does make a difference is pushing people to their best, and then rewarding them. Failures, successes, they all have a purpose. A defining, conditioning purpose." At the far end of the table sits an abandoned scrap of hide and what-was a bit of silver. "The bad, the good... " Lifting up the hide, a pensive expression clouds the thoughts of what may contain for this weyrling. The one who got away. Regret may come or it may not for C'wlin's thoughts are not so easily read. Setting down N'ky's scrap of hide, with the same lists as the others, he turns back to his array. "Once I get the chains, I'll have them delivered." Night settles softly upon the bronze, lulling the young dragon to a light doze. Purple infiltrates the blue-green of the banners that slowly die down as the winds come to a halt. « They may not even like them. Or wear them. » Drowsy comment is given; a warning prompted maybe by the question Solith asked not so long ago. « Use them. » Forwarned is forwarned and all that. (Athimeroth to C'wlin) "I don't care. Everyone should have something to show for the hell that one goes through to get where they want." C'wlin's eyes turn once more to his array of Weyrling-hides. "Everyone." Hidden meanings linger like cobwebs to the tone of that single word, stated for many, many different reasons. Athimeroth sleeps, then, and C'wlin turns away from his plans to find boyish amusement in playing with his pole. Whoops of laughter might escape in the frenzied fall of twisting down that pole.
CommentsAzaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 08 May 2013 22:18:07 GMT. <
o.o Just what does little harper boy have up his sleeve? I'm all sorts of intrigued...
I love the dual meaning, the reason C'wlin tries so hard and pushes the others. It's a reflection of himself (I feel) and since he's already trying his damnest, he's got so much ambition that it has to be spread around. Misery-- er, Ambition loves company. :D
Athimeroth really is his second pair of eyes-- giving his opinion whether C'wlin sees it as important or not. X3
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A little bribery-- er, gifting... never goes amiss.
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Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 08 May 2013 22:18:07 GMT.
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o.o Just what does little harper boy have up his sleeve? I'm all sorts of intrigued...
I love the dual meaning, the reason C'wlin tries so hard and pushes the others. It's a reflection of himself (I feel) and since he's already trying his damnest, he's got so much ambition that it has to be spread around. Misery-- er, Ambition loves company. :D
Athimeroth really is his second pair of eyes-- giving his opinion whether C'wlin sees it as important or not. X3
Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 08 May 2013 23:24:08 GMT.
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A little bribery-- er, gifting... never goes amiss.
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 02:03:14 GMT.
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- can see Alida even now eying the package on her ledge...and shaking it to check for traps* ;)
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