Logs:Fragments
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Azaylia isn't as put together as she seems. Given how she seems...yeesh. |
| Where: Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Brieli/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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| Azaylia hadn't meant to be scarce the past few days. She needed to be seen by the weyrfolk, to encourage that everyone go about their day. The Weyrleaders had to be there for their people, to be strong and to be seen being strong. That was why she was hidden away. Overwhelmed, tears slid silently down her cheeks as she lay in bed with hands folded patiently atop her stomach. Azaylia almost looked peaceful. There was nothing else to do besides wait for release from the attacks that were triggered by nothing and everything. The woman's own thoughts were her worst enemy. Simply signing her name, a normal enough task, turned disastrous once Azaylia realized she had written 'Senior' in front of her title. But there was no Weyrwoman. There were Weyrwomen. Weyleaders. A fact that was easy to accept until it wasn't, with no way to predict how she might feel from one moment to the next. Her thoughts constantly contradicted themselves. It was hard enough making sure her words didn't follow suit when she managed to actually hold a conversation. Azaylia was lost. "High Reaches... is plural even in name." She hadn't understood what H'kon meant, then. She rarely did. Now, Azaylia was all too familiar with the sentiment. She was High Reaches. Just as the Weyr divided itself, she too struggled with warring factions within. The little girl in her wanted to run home and hide. The dragonrider hungered for Tradition restored. The once-wingmate demanded she stand by Taikrin. The goldrider wanted to ignore it all in favor of her dragon's eggs-to-be. The friend wouldn't abandon Brieli to handle it on her own. The Weyrwoman would do anything to restore peace to the Weyr. And Azaylia... what did she want, in the end? Hraedhyth's presence also weighed heavily on her mind but in such a way as to be of some comfort. The queen was oddly patient despite her rider's near-constant distress. Fire burned with bright confidence, drums offering rhythmic consistency in days that would be predictable only in their unpredictability. « You know what to do. » Deep down, so buried, that Hraedhyth was more aware of it than Azaylia herself. « We protect the Weyr. » Her words included the other gold pair, one ledge over. With sudden force, Hraedhyth refused to allow wallowing to get in the way. « Go. You are hungry. » A savage growl echoed the burn in her lifemate's belly, « There is work to be done. » Azaylia didn't feel ready to get out of bed. She didn't feel like stopping the tears and putting on a brave face for people. She did, anyway. |
Comments
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Sun, 27 Jan 2013 01:54:57 GMT.
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Yay Azaylia. Suck it up. ;P
Zian (Zian) left a comment on Sun, 27 Jan 2013 04:08:23 GMT.
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Aww, poor Azaylia. <3
Conflicting emotions! Urg!
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