Logs:The Stuff of Dreams
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| RL Date: 13 March, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Wakizian |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Wakizian goes looking for Bones and finds Alida in an unusually charitable mood instead. Some part of Waki's brain FREAKS OUT THE ENTIRE CONVERSATION because he clearly must be dreaming. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions, Nicky/Mentions, Hraedhyth/Mentions |
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| Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath.
"Bones?" The baritone that might now be familiar to some of the candidates as belonging to a certain Lady Smith precedes Wakizian into the greenhouse. He's bundled up in warm winter coat, red hat, scarf, and mittens when he steps through from the bowl. Mittens are doffed and tucked safely away into his pocket and his fingers go to start undoing the buttons of his coat all before calling again, "Bones? Are you here somewhere?" She's not being called by name, so Alida doesn't do much more than grunt a low, "Nope..." upon humid air when Waki's recognized voice reaches her ears, the guard standing upright from inhaling a particularly intoxicating fragrance from some blossom. Though she doesn't really tense, the young woman does don one of her more habitual, bland affects as she continues to wander and take in the warmth and peace all around her. Seems that the usual tenders of the greenhouse are either gone, or between shifts. "Oh," The response is slightly surprised at getting a female voiced response. Wakizian's brow furrows as he takes a moment to stomp off his boots, before moving a few more steps into the greenhouse. "That you, Alida?" As though her manner of response would leave too much doubt that he need ask. "You got extra duty or something?" He asks, not overly interested, just mildly curious. He hasn't come too far into the greenhouse and he's got about half the buttons on his coat undone, so it seems he hasn't decided if he should stay or go now that he knows his quarry isn't to be found. Perhaps she's in a somewhat more charitable mood than usual, for the Pars female's languidly-paced reply to Wakizian is another low, "Yep..." instead of silence or some snarky, razor-edged rebuttal. "Nah..." is soon factored in to the male candidate's second volley of words, the guard's footsteps light upon stony flooring. If Waki looks farther beyond where he stands, he might notice a thick, long jacket and the usual accoutrements of cold weather laying neatly on a stone bench. Uncharacteristically, the female candidate's voice reaches out mellowly over the air, offering what appears to be a rare, offhanded comment: "Gonna be soon, 'r so I hear the dragonhealers say." Wakizian's mood, too, is different than usual: it's good. Really, really good. He's got a warm smile for the guardswoman whether she wants it or not. Given that this is the first time that she's willingly entered conversation with him, he doesn't blow it with some overly cheery chatter. He tempers it, fingers working the rest of the way down his coat. "Yeah, that's what I hear. Shells must be getting pretty hard. Hraedhyth's as possessive as ever, though. She kept people out of the galleries today. Your first hatching? Or have you attended before?" That's as far as he takes the chatter, moving along the path to where he happens to see her coat, shrugging out of his to drop it alongside. "Mind if I intrude and warm up a bit before heading back?" He's paused mid-coat-shrug to ask this. If Waki's approaching her closely enough - not too close, though - he might get to see one of Alida's rarer partial smiles touch one side of her lips for a moment as she listens to his words spill upon heavy, warm air. A low grunt is the woman's first comment, her boots continuing to glide her along stone as her eyes look all about...nose drinking in the summery scents all around. Finally comes her less-clipped, though still focused, "My first time at the Weyr." What an introduction it was, too! "Feel free..." The sound of rustling foliage intrudes on the quiet atmosphere for a few moments, the guard then noting in thoughtful fashion, "Is she a first time dam?" If he saw the smile, Wakizian doesn't let on. Probably the fastest way to have it vanish. He finishes shrugging out of his coat, and lays it with hers, pulling off his hat and mittens next. "Concerned?" He queries softly, quickly offering: "I am. I'm glad you told Nicky that you'd stand near us. I don't fancy the idea of any of us getting gored if we can avoid it. There hasn't been a death in-- well, a while, I think." He leaves unsaid the obvious: that it is possible. "It's the first time for both of them." He answers, meandering a little bit closer to the wandering guard, but not too close. He pauses near a flowering plant, fingers coming up to brush gently across petals and leaf, looking them over with marked interest. Or maybe he's just trying not to spook whatever friendly spirit has possessed the guardswoman tonight. "Can I ask-- do you want to Impress?" For a moment, it appears as though Alida might just bristle at Waki's first inquiry, the question stinging the proud guard..her features tensing. But for once, she takes a mental step beyond the most obvious, and instead of glaring at the Smith or taking a chunk out of his hide, the blonde simply shrugs offhandedly, then looking over between the youth and the plants...her gaze shifting about. "Gored...trampled, gutted, bitten, sliced up... There's so many ways ta' meet yer end out there," 'lida comments quietly, her eyes quiet, tone apparently not much concerned. A nearby leaf is peered at, then gently bruised by one forefinger and a thumbpad, the scent of peppermint soon burgeoning upon the air...inhaled greedily by the holder, her gaze returning to Waki in a simple study of how he caresses that flower. "Doesn't bode well fer fragile human bodies being out there with 'er, does it?" The remark about Hraedhyth is more pragmatic than concerned, the female offering a slender wisp of a smirk onto the air as she finds herself thinking of how the gold bears her especially no good will... But then Waki's asking that, and it clears the candidate's mind of other thoughts downright fast. Quickly comes an easy, almost lighthearted reply of "Yeah..." soon enough stumbled over with a lower, more hesitant addition of, "No." The same indecision within her reply is visible upon the guard's features, in her eyes for a moment before she snaps her gaze back down to the mint she finds herself crushing between digits. Whoops. Contrary to some popular belief, Wakizian is learning to shut up and listen. As the guard muses, he takes the time to practice this newly acquired skill. His attention pretends to be (or perhaps truly is) largely on the flower, eyes noting every curve, every texture, every vein. "There has to be a first time for some things." He doesn't say everything because that's not exactly true, but for things like the biological imperative of rising to mate and the subsequent clutching and hatching of eggs, if you're a gold, there must be a first time. "I don't think it'll be a problem come hatching day," His tone holds a fair bit of confidence, he turns towards the guardswoman then, forgetting his flower inspection. "Hraedhyth wants what's best for her babies. And whether she likes it or not, what's best might be you. If there were a dragonet there that was meant to pair with you, and you weren't there to Impress, the dragon would die. It's happened before. Could happen again." He shrugs his shoulders again. "We might not have talons or claws, but honestly, the dragonets are just as vulnerable as we are. In some ways, we get the better deal. All we have to do is get out of the way if they stumble your direction. For them-- they might already be dead coming out of the shell if one of us isn't there that was supposed to be." He plods a few more steps forward to turn his gaze on another plant. This one all leaves, but his fingers are running across them too. "You don't have to know." He offers in quiet tone. "Lots of riders don't when they walk onto the Sands. Just kind of something that comes their way. Or doesn't." But then they wouldn't be riders. He shoots a look Alida's way, hopeful that she took his meaning more than the individual words. It's still a verbal mountain to the often terse guard, and she has to steel herself from just turning her mind away from Wakizian's words to the more quiet plant life all around them, the hint of discipline she applies seen as a leveling of her brow and features. And when the Smith is finished trying to offer her some verbal support...well, the holder woman just continues to look at her now green-smudged fingertips for a long moment, 'lida finally and slowly lifting them under her nose so she can drown her senses in peppermint. The scent seems to focus her again somehow, and when her gaze returns to Waki's, it's firm and undivided once more. "I've overheard from...some people..." cue a parched hint of a smirk "...that Impressing changes a person." A sudden fluttering wave-off of her free hand presages a quick, "Makes a person...compromised in some way." Wakizian's observation of the new plant goes on, moving from leaf to leaf, taking care not to damage them. "What do they mean by compromised? I hear it-- changes you. But I think that's mostly natural since there's suddenly something else in your head. Where your private thoughts are." That part of the whole Impressing gambit seems to give the Smith some pause and he loses interest in the plant, turning around and leaning lightly on the planter containing it. His hands remain down at his sides, thumbs looped over the edge of the planter, digging into the moist soil there. He's doing his best to look casual, but there's a small part of his expression that betrays the running thoughts in the back of his head: am I dreaming? Maybe Alida's glad that Waki's concentrating on the plants right now, as she's trying to deal with some internal crap. Her gaze lifts, flicks out of its corners over to the male for a moment, then easing back over to the plants nearby them. "Yeah...compromised. Not yourself anymore...not...private in yer own mind." Open and vulnerable, naked and defenseless...the list of things unspoken might go on and on in the silence that follows the guard's voice, but finally she has to stop the cycle of more and more concern growing within. A jerk of her pale, braided head over to the youth finds him quietly expressing his own odd and perhaps disembodied feeling, the holder blinking a few times at such before she blurts, "It's too fucking real ta BE real." Huh? "The thing is," Wakizian starts slowly, letting his eyes drift about the greenhouse, one hand coming up to scratch his cheek. "To a dragon that Impresses to you, you are vulnerable, and well-- naked, and defenseless, and that's the kind of thing that would sharding well have even the bravest brawler quaking right out of his boots." Was he listening in to her private thoughts to pluck those words out of her brain? No, anyone who's been a candidate and been unsure about it has thought those exact things, had similar fears, obviously Wakizian has too. Though what he says next speaks to the internal calm he's found on the topic of Impression. "But the thing is that, as I understand it, that mind that is in there, with yours, is one that-- well, loves you. Accepts you. Takes your good, your bad, your ugly, your beautiful, your stupid and smart and loves every last piece of you. It's another who will never abandon you, never give up on you, and always, always have your back." In theory. But definitely when it counts! "Is there any way that kind of thing can be bad? To be loved like that?" He seems to realize he's winded on a while more than what was making this conversation go so swimmingly. "Sorry. Prolly talked too much." So he shuts up, thumbs worming further into the soil. The slightly startled (yes, it's rare) look suddenly dawning on Alida's features might indeed accuse Wakizian of somehow being able to worm into her brain...but then rationality wins over instinct, and the young woman quiets her concerns, her face returning to a more neutral expression. When the young man's done speaking at length, the guard at first hesitates, then lifts her herb-drenched fingers to her nose again, inhaling of the mind-calming, clearing peppermint once again. Sigh. "So we've been told..." is clipped off, likely to her fellow candidate's words of Impression. A quick wave-off of Waki's apology transitions into a sudden, dark little smirk that holds no real humor, just like 'lida's green eyes. "Didja' ever stop t'think that *love* is being vulnerable, open... And that even that kinda near-perfect love c'n be invaded from the outside... shells, even the *inside*?" "So you're not really worried about the dragon part, just what other vulnerabilities it might lead to?" Waki asks after a long moment of processing her question, dissecting it absorbing each bit of it. His head cants to the side, expression mildly curious. "I can't say as I gave that too much thought, but then I'm not one to object to love and vulnerability on principle." He doesn't say, but it's obvious that the rest of that sentence is like another candidate in this room. "Guess you'll just have to learn to be hard and soft if you Impress." This is said fairly matter-of-factly. Hard on the outside, soft and squishy on the inside! Like some kind of sweet... "Worried ain't really the term..." Alida clips off with some of her usual snark, her usual attitude flowing back into place in an instant, the blonde's typical smirky smile starting to play about her lips again, even as she shrugs. "Anybody who ain't concerned about their personality suddenly changing and another one being added to their head's a mental case." The rest of the Smith's words evince a certain level of reaction from the guard, and this time it's not all that charitable, Alida's eyes narrowing just slightly as her might-be smile becomes cool. "Mhm...I see, 'mister superior.' How nice uv you to let all that Crafter learning drift down t'me from on high." A definite tetch of scathing sarcasm touches the woman's clipped tones, her form peeling away from Waki's as the female candidate simply smiles quite coldly and then flips him the casual bird...her form giving a stiff-backed little swagger as she pads away, towards the entrance. Attention dreamers: happy play time with Alida has ended. Please buckle your harness and prepare for an emergency landing. "Oh, for the sake of Faranth's freckles," The Smith swears after the guardswoman as she turns to go. But anything else he might have said is simply curtailed. He's not going to let her take his excellent mood from him. Wakizian gives his head a little shake and heads for the bench, taking the time to toss on his winter wear, button up, and head for the bowl. Even if his path takes him to the same place as Alida, he doesn't try for conversation or even seek any kind of acknowledgement. He's one boy on the way to the barracks. That's all. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:The Stuff of Dreams"Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 14 Mar 2013 09:26:09 GMT.
What an oddly introspective scene.
Aaaaand then reality comes crashing down at the end. :l Oh, kitten. Oh, hedgehog.
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