Logs:Barracks Cleanup
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| RL Date: 21 July, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Meara |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Most of the weyrlings have now moved out - but not Brieli. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room. For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here. It took a little longer than anticipated, after the announcement that weyrs would be happening soon, for the first of the weyrlings to begin moving out. Now, however, almost everyone is gone-- except, of course, Brieli and Azaylia. Meara looks surprisingly old and tired, this afternoon, as she works her way around the abandoned couches, gathering up forgotten belongings and grumbling beneath her breath at the state of cleanliness of some of them. Classes have been only recently let out of the day, and everyone else - it seems - has gone home, no doubt to luxuriate in the freedom of having their own, private spaces to hang out. "I hate to imagine what your weyr will look like, young C'zhem," murmurs the Weyrlingmaster, to herself, as she reaches down to pick up several dirty mugs and add them to the box beneath her arm. "Honestly." One would think that the others clearing out might do something for Brieli and Azaylia - the fewer of their compatriots, the less noise and mess and other things they have to deal with. However, they still have to deal with the barracks themselves - and while it might not be in the other goldrider's nature to mind that much, Iesaryth's rider is getting to be as irritable as her dragon when it comes to this particular part of their weyrlinghood moving along already. It can't have been easy for someone with a private (possibly secretive) nature. Maybe today Meara's weary air has gotten to her, however; she's not looking all that grouchy as she sits on her cot, cross-legged, working with no particular enthusiasm. After watching the Weyrlingmaster for a moment, "Can't you just make them come pick up after themselves?" When Meara glances up, it may first seem as though she's surprised to see Brieli there, but that impression will only last a moment or so, replaced by a smile that is genuine, if slender. "One can try," she says. "But sometimes it's just easier to come in and do it one's self. Besides," she hoists the box on her hip a little higher before continuing, "If there's anything they actually want in this stuff, they'll now have to come and deal with me over it." The twitch at the corners of her mouth as she says that is undeniably amused. "We'll have you out of here soon, I promise," she adds. "I know it must be frustrating." She's surprised to see the weyrling here; Brieli doesn't want to be here - maybe she could sneak across the bowl and no one would be the wiser? No doubt the thought has crossed her mind. Pursing her lips as she eyes that box Meara's hauling around, "You must feel like everyone's mother, with none of the benefits. Well. Few." Lest she make it all sound too bleak. With a quirk of a smile, she allows, "I suppose that's true. You can ask what favors you wish of them if it's important enough?" As for frustrated, she glances down at her papers, shakes her head a little as she notes, "There's a lot going on. It's understandable. They're getting big, though." Clearly, that's the only reason she wants out. "I'm sure it won't be long." But Meara is philosophical, at least; she even laughs. "And here I am, old enough to be everyone's grandmother. Perhaps that just means I'm too old for this job." After a moment more, she sets the box down at her feet, stretching out her shoulders with care, as though she's more stiff than she'd like to admit to. "It's less... favours. More that it's a good opportunity to remind them of certain lessons." One hand pinches the bridge of her nose, covering her eyes from view; she's silent for several more moments before she adds, as politically careful as she always tries to be, "Weyr assignments are supposed to come from the Weyrwoman. It's easy enough to step up with the others-- I know where the weyr assignment roles are kept. But it's not my place to go poking around the ground weyrs. I expect-- in any case, I've submitted a request. I'm sure the Weyrwoman will see to it when she has a moment." "Depends how old you feel, I suppose," Brieli says, easily. She certainly isn't about to say anything about how old Meara actually is and whether that's too old for the job or not. Shuffling her papers into a stack, she glances over towards the other woman, nodding. "That makes sense. And... I can understand that." Her dark gaze watches the nose-pinching for a time as those careful words come out, but she'll return to sorting her work for her own. "I wouldn't want to step on toes if I were you, and I know that Iolene has... a lot on her mind. I'll have a few things to speak to her about eventually, if it comes to that, I'll ask her." A pause, before grudgingly; "She'll likely feel bad." Meara's smile is bland for that first remark, and unremarkable for most of the rest of what Brieli has to say. "I expect it has simply been lost within the shuffle. It's not as though-- well. She's not had an opportunity to learn all those little duties, has she? Between one thing and another. I'm sure you're right. You and our Weyrwoman are friends, aren't you? What about Azaylia?" It's only a subtle shift in conversation, and a conversational one at that: if she's probing for information, she's being very casual about it. With a little shrug, "When would she? Would Lujayn think to remind her?" There's another question. Brieli doesn't ask it pointedly, just wonders as she puts all her work in her lap. Leaning back on her hands, she agrees, "We spend some time together. And I think she and Azaylia get along well enough. I don't know how much they've seen of each other lately, but the way things have been, who's had time?" If the goldrider thinks Meara's looking for information, she doesn't show it; she's unconcerned about the conversation so far. "Perhaps not," agrees Meara, neutrally, rather as though she's deliberately holding back judgment on one, or perhaps both, of them Weyrwomen. "I'm glad to see that there are bonds between you. As Weyrwomen, you'll do better if you can all work together, I should think. That's how the weyr works, really-- the Weyrleader has his Wingleaders, and the Weyrwomen her juniors, and the Headwoman and her staff." Her tone doesn't change: she might as well be remarking on the weather, or something equally unimportant in the scheme of things. "I hope you'll all support Iolene. It won't be an easy transition. Though, of course, you've months of training left, still." "I think we should be able to work together. I mean, as much as anything might be better than recent turns... I think we can all maintain a certain level of... respect, I suppose." Brieli doesn't look entirely pleased with the word she's chosen, but it's good enough; she listens to Meara's words with polite interest, fine brows arched - taking it in, but she's definitely heard this before. "I spoke to Iolene a little while ago. I think she knows she'll need some help while she gets up to speed. And... yes." For the Weyrlingmaster's last, she has a wry smile. "Months. Although Iesaryth thinks she knows everything already." Meara's low toned, "Good," seems positive enough, accompanied as it is by another of those smiles. "I'm glad to hear that, on all counts. I hope she knows that she can ask for support from whomever she wants, as she adjusts. At least she's got a Weyrleader who knows the ropes, too." Of Iesaryth, she can only smile. "At least she's less behind, now. I understand how difficult that was, but there shouldn't be as much need for that from now on. Do you intend to visit your family, once you can fly far enough? It won't be long. You're from-- Crom, I believe?" It's an unnecessary question: the Weyrlingmaster knows the origins of all of her pupils. Brieli agrees, on the matter of K'del, "This is true." Perhaps to make it go by more quickly. "And I'm sure she does. She's been quick enough to make decisions, so I'm sure she'll be be quick enough to ask for help." Her tone is certain, but she takes that particular moment to straighten, to pick the papers up from her lap and put them in a folder, abandoning work for now. Her dragon makes her smile as well, if slightly, as she admits, "I wasn't entirely sure it would go well. She's still desperate to jump ahead, but less because of the others now. And, no. I don't think so." Glancing from folder to Meara briefly, "I don't have anyone left at Crom. There's not much reason to visit." "Not even childhood friends?" Meara abandons most of the other topics to consider that, then shakes her head, allowing, "That's a shame. No doubt you'll be glad to see further than the bowl walls, more regularly, at least." Whatever her opinion on Iolene and what she's doing, the Weyrlingmaster seems unwilling to press too much of it upon Brieli, and so, instead, she adds, "Some dragons are always impatient. You do well with her, keeping her from pushing things." Beat. "Too much, at any rate. How will she occupy herself once there are no new lessons to absorb her, I wonder. The life of a queen can be... sedentary, if one lets it be so." Wryly, "I wasn't very good at making friends, for a little while. But yes - we will enjoy seeing other places. That alone is something. She's been wanting to just go and fly." Brieli has to smile, admitting, "I never thought I would look forward to it." And if Meara isn't going to push her opinions, that saves the goldrider from having to state hers (or avoid stating hers), so she doesn't seem too broken up about shifting to something else. "Too much," she echoes, with a laugh. "She gets ideas. And we - well, I've been thinking about that for a bit, once I realized that she'd need something to do. I think she'd be as happy to lie around and think, perhaps she'll fly; she and Hraedhyth. I imagine Hraedhyth will want to patrol or similar." Meara's nod is slow, though her smile is warm enough. "I understand. There aren't many weyrlings who are not excited to be able to get out into the world. It's hard, even for those who aren't used to being able to travel. I suppose it's as simple as knowing that soon you will be able to." Thoughtful, in this, she nonetheless shakes her head to dismiss the thought, concentrating instead on Brieli's answer to her own previous remark. "I can't imagine Hraedhyth settling down to do nothing," she agrees, with a laugh. "Perhaps you're right. As long as she'll be happy, in any case. It's always worth thinking about, planning for the future. Graduation can be a shock, otherwise - for everyone. From such structure to... such different lives." Brieli can allow, "It's not as if there's not places I'd like to visit. Most are just a bit further afield, so... I try not to think too much about right now." For if she does, who's to stop Iesaryth from doing so? With her own smile, she shrugs a touch, guessing, "Maybe it's just the dragons. They make us adventurous even if we're not, perhaps." Grinning as she stows her folder away in her press, "I should count myself lucky to have a sometimes-lazy dragon. And yes, I'd like her to be happy, but not... I just don't want her lounging around wasting her brilliance." Turning that grin Meara's way, "I always plan for the future. Will it be that different for us? I can't see a lot of extra time." "One can't help but notice that you've had a visitor from Fort, occasionally," remarks Meara, which doesn't seem to be either censure nor outright curiosity: just a presentation of facts. "But I take your meaning. Better not to give her reason to... agitate further. We'd rather not lose you to an inopportune Between attempt." She's more serious for that, and if she rubs at her neck for a moment, it surely can't be because she's actually worried about such a thing happening. "Maybe you're right. I've met few dragons who weren't interested in the rest of the world to some degree. It will be different for you. Certainly, you'll have plenty of work to do, but... less structured, most like. It's not as simple as a six hour sweep shift, or watchrider shift. The work needs to be done, but when and where and how... that will be up to how you work things out." "Occasionally, yes." Brieli doesn't see any reason to deny it. She's had visitors. It's a fact. And if she adds, "Iesaryth's seen it - the bowl at least - more than a few times," it's because she doesn't catch the way Meara's rubbing at her neck. Quickly, "But. I don't think she'd do anything like that, even if she thought she could. I've been at her enough about that." She tries very hard to sound reassuring, look responsible. She's not bad at it. Still serious for the idea of the work, something about the way the Weyringmaster describes it quirks her lips into a faint smile; with a slow nod, "I see. It sounds potentially dangerous. But potentially very flexible - if you're good at planning." Meara's long glance at Brieli's face is visibly studying, but whatever she finds there, she doesn't seem to be unsatisfied: certainly, her nod is even enough. "Good. Mind that you make sure. I trust you both not to do anything stupid, but that doesn't mean these things don't happen anyway. It's no trivial matter. Still, only a few more months, and that, too, will be in your hands." Meara opens her mouth to say something else, but apparently thinks better of it; in the end, she says, only, "Flexible, yes. I imagine it could be. Particularly with four of you - you'll be lucky on that count. It's not a job I would care to do without juniors." Brieli doesn't look worried - and the less worried Meara seem, the more confident she seems as well. Offering a brisk nod in return, "I'll pay attention to her. She just thinks she knows. I've been trying to argue that it means she'll just do it perfectly later, but that's..." She lifts a hand, wavers it in the air - not so great. "I know. I'm... trying to just consider what's directly ahead for now." She's impatient; Iesaryth's impatient - no sense in them both thinking two steps ahead. Though curious about what's left alone, she merely agrees, "It seems like a lot to take care of." "If only logic were enough to overcome emotion. Sometimes, perhaps, but not... as often as we might like." Meara's tone is musing, though the smile she aims back at Brieli, this time, is content enough. "At least you're strong with her. I hope you've not got so much free time at the moment that you have enough time to worry too much about the future." But that's mildly said, too; not really intended as a probe, or a potential rebuke. "It is. It's a difficult job, being a Weyrwoman. I was always glad to have Impressed my Isath and not Saskia's Rinath. At least I can quit my job, but a Weyrwoman is, by and large, Weyrwoman in some capacity for life. Does it daunt you?" Wistfully, "It would make things easier. But I suppose we'd have no reason to do anything. No purpose." Brieli's smile is quick and wide, genuine as she says, "I'm always grateful to have her. She's done so much for me; made things easier that I know are more difficult for some after they Impress. It's been simpler for me, in some ways. Though no, I don't find myself with much free time. I still manage to concern myself with many things even so." The last is said wryly. Considering Meara's question, eventually; "You can't quit Isath, though. The balance is daunting. I don't want to lose... who I am entirely. Change is inevitable, but I don't want... I don't know." She shrugs a bit helplessly, for once lost for words. "You don't want to lose sight of who you were before," supposes Meara, after a moment of thoughtful silence. "I can understand that. They do change us, of course they do. Isath changed me, Iesaryth has changed you. But that doesn't mean... we still need to be ourselves. But it's ourselves with them, and that can't help but be different." Her tone is sympathetic, now, without being condescending; her nod is made with feeling. "I don't think many of us realise how big an impact it will be - that balance, I mean. Even those of us who grew up around dragons. But we all do find our balance, in time. Are there things you are not in agreement over? Excluding Iesaryth's desires to simply do things now." Careful, "There's some of that. And they do, she did, of course. I think she's made me... better. A better person, in some ways; we're better together in many ways. But there's also just life making those changes... deciding on the compromises you're willing to make." Brieli has an appreciative flash of a smile for the sympathy, adding, "Not that I can't see living with Iesaryth alone taking some... adjustments. She likes things a certain way." As for disagreements, she actually has to think about it before shaking her head, looking over at Meara, perhaps a little surprised. "Not really, actually. I'm starting to understand that we have a particularly reasonable and tranquil relationship, comparatively." 'A better person' seems to please Meara; she smiles, though she doesn't seek to say anything until after Brieli has finished speaking. "I'm glad," she says. "Which is not to say that the more difficult relationships aren't worthwhile and, indeed, sometimes preferable in the long run for some people, but - there are benefits to the easy ones, too. I hope, in any case, that we're all better with our lifemates than without. It's hard to imagine ourselves without them, at least. I hope - you'll get your space soon, I promise. As soon as I can get it organised. If for no other reason than that I think it will make it easier for you and Azaylia to begin becoming part of the Weyrwoman's team." Doesn't that sort of thing always make people happy? Brieli's little black heart turning a shade less dark. Maybe. She seems to mean it, anyway. "I do think - some people can come out of the difficulties better." Some people that might still be living in the barracks, perhaps. "But I'm so glad that we... understood each other, I suppose. I wasn't sure that I would find a dragon on the Sands that would understand me. I know that sounds melodramatic, but..." She offers Meara a mildly abashed smile, unapologetic. "And thank you. I think it would make it easier, and maybe easier on Iolene. And possibly nice for her to have more neighbors. It doesn't hurt." "But it's hard to imagine sometimes," agrees Meara, philosophically. "I know." The middle aged weyrlingmaster shifts on her heels, adjusting her stance just-so; she really does seem stiff, perhaps even outright in pain, for all that she's doing her best not to show it. "It's such a relief when we work out that things really are the way they should be - that our dragons, even in their worst times, fit with us. Comforting. You're quite right, too; easier on Iolene. And we must all do what we can to make it easier. I imagine one of you will move in to Iolene's old weyr, and the other one into the one K'del was living in." The burnt one, of course. Brieli tries not to let her brows draw together in concern, but they begin to; she shifts so she swings her booted feet off to the side of her cot, looking down at the toes. As she bends to rub off a spot of mud, "It's comforting. But as you said, daunting. When things work out the way they should be, you can only feel that there's a reason for it, yes? That's a weight." Straightening, she smiles, brushing stray curls from her face. "I have a preference, but I think anyone could guess that. I'll hope for the best, I suppose - and offer Azaylia a hand if it works out for the best. I think I might go get a drink - is there anything I can get for you?" And perhaps, give Meara an excuse to sit down while she's gone? Meara is not surprised at that preference, no, and her smile is rueful as a result of it. "I can't imagine Azaylia will stand in the way of you getting the one you want," is her measured remark, which contains hints of amusement in it for all that her expression is more restrained. She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head - carefully. "No, but thank you, Brieli. I think I'll finish this up and get on home. Have a pleasant evening." Is that a hint of relief around the corners of her eyes? It's so hard to tell. "Hraedyth does like burned things," Brieli muses, pushing off her cot and snagging her new jacket off it on the way out. "Have a good evening, Meara, thank you for everything. Rest well." That last is light enough that it might have been offered to anyone over her shoulder, as she strides on out to the workroom and the sadly snowy bowl. It's only once Brieli is gone that Meara allows her expression to drop, revealing real hints of pain that she's been keeping so hidden. "Good night," she murmurs, but it's too late for it to be in reply to the goldrider. |
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