Logs:Gone Boom
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| RL Date: 7 March, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Vienne |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: After the brawl, Vienne whisks K'del away. They talk |
| Where: Secluded Beach, Ista Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions |
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| Secluded Beach, Ista Weyr Surrounded by dense jungle is an empty beach that provides just enough space for two or three dragons to land. Velvety black sands are swept relentlessly by waves, stark white foam sliding seaward after the receding waters. Ista's main beach lies somewhere to the north, but it's impossible to see from such a secluded cranny on the coastline. The jutting fingers of the Weyr are still visible beyond the dense jungle canopy, but there is the illusion that here and now there is no one else on all of Pern. So at some point, in the infirmary, one mildly battered little bluerider caught sight of one tall, overwrought bronzerider on his way to be seen by the healers, even if his sickness isn't something they can fix. And though she eventually hobbled out to meet H'kon, the brownrider was sent on his way with due thanks and Vienne lingered afterwards, popping uneasily to her feet when K'del reappeared. She said nothing at first but took his hand to lead him away and, once they were no longer surrounded by so many eyes, convinced him to get away from the Weyr, to go somewhere far far away and breathe. Dragons were rounded up and Oswinth shared with Cadejoth a particular beach on Ista's shores. Now there, it's just as well that Vienne's jacket is probably still sitting in the living cavern, because the weather at Ista is perfect, a warm sunny morning with the ocean lapping and the breeze wafting gently. When Vienne climbs down from Oswinth's shoulder, it's with some difficulty, but eventually she stands in the sand, utterly out of place with her snow boots, and looks to see how K'del is managing. There isn't much the healers can do with K'del, and, indeed, it's likely that Healer Emerin doesn't have much idea of what to do with the bronzerider placed in her hands. He's so easily led after that: to Cadejoth, to Ista, and now down from his rider's neck to the black sands and the water beyond. He's probably already poured part of his heart out at that poor healer, but that doesn't seem to stop him-- now, as he glances at Vienne, meeting her gaze with a rueful smile, he's easily able to say, "Didn't actually mean for any of that to happen. Just... saw him, and there I went. Boom. Some leader I am." He won't hold her gaze for long: he's come without his jacket, but he still has boots to remove, and heavy socks beneath. "Thought I was doing so well, too." Vienne moves beside him, to take her own careful seat in the sand and go about pulling her boots off. The one is easy, the other is done with much more attention and her ankle is bandaged up. But at least the healers didn't send her out on crutches or anything, so it can't be too bad. "I know," she tells him quietly. "You just weren't ready to... see him. Or to feel all of that and be able to do anything else." She slips a little smile sideways at him. "You did kind of 'boom'." She takes a heavy breath and pulls her sweater overhead, ruffling her hair. The undershirt beneath is much more fitting for the current climate. "How are you now?" she wonders over at him. "More calm," is K'del's admission, made through lips that have twisted into something quietly rueful. "Should've stayed away from the caverns. Made sure I'd avoid him. Making a scene-- it wasn't my intention. Ever. Maybe I am overreacting, but... can't look at him without seeing her, and feeling all that pain, all over again." He makes that last admission without glancing at her, kicking his last sock away. After that, he heads for the water's edge, rolling up his trousers so that he can stand in the surf. "Guess I should lay low for a while, huh?" Vienne is quiet as he talks, folding her sweater and attempting to lay it over the top of her boots so that it won't be entirely full of sand, in theory. She has no comment for his pain and when he moves off to stand in the water, she's slow to follow, taking a few long moments to watch him with his feet in the swirl of the surf. It's with a grimace he likely doesn't see that rubs her hands over her thighs, bolstering herself for whatever comes next. And the first thing is to push herself back up so she can step-hop after him. She doesn't step into the water, but lingers where the sand is dry. "K'del," she says evenly. "Look at me." It takes a few moments, but finally, K'del turns, looking at Vienne with pale brows that have lifted towards his hairline, a question marked upon his expression. "I'm looking," he says. "What is it? Tell it to me straight." Her eyes drop down, pointedly, toward her bandaged foot. "Look," she tells him. Nevermind the fact that there's a bruise creeping out at her temple. "I know you're hurting and I know you're a mess. But if you're calm now, I want you to step away from the edge and see where you are now." There's more she'd like to say, but she doesn't. It just brims on her carefully closed mouth as she stares at him, firm eyes even if there's still sympathy on her face. "And this..." Vienne's hands gesture simply to the beach, the jungle behind it, the sky overhead. "Is where I'm from." It's easier to say, dully, "You're Istan," than it is to properly comprehend the rest of what Vienne has to say, though there's no missing the way K'del looks, so guiltily, at that bandaged foot, and the bruise on her temple. Abruptly, he drops into a crouch, letting the waves crash over her lower body, though he doesn't break his glance in her direction. "Screwed up," he says. "I screwed up. Lost control. I was so angry, and you got hurt, and I hurt Z'ian, and--" He breaks off. "Yes," Vienne confirms, taking some scant comfort in the fact that all her years of harper training have left her able to impart at least that much information to a fully grown man of questionable mental capacity. And though she would really rather not go dragging her fresh, tidy bandage through the sea water, nor soak the cuffs of her pants, she inches fowards onto the wet sand. "Yeah, you did," she tells him quietly. "And what?" K'del doesn't seem to care about getting wet: the waves ripple against his knees, and higher, and he barely seems to notice, except that his hands float atop the water on either side of him, enjoying the quiet coolness of the gentle waves. "And it didn't exactly achieve anything," he says, finishing his earlier thought, blue eyes watching her emotionlessly. "Just made everything worse. Right when I thought I was turning a corner. But you all tried to help me, anyway." There's a question in his glance, one that doesn't quite make it to his mouth. "We don't want to see you hurting," Vienne goes ahead and speaks for his various friends as well as herself. "We don't want to see you make it any worse than it has to be." She takes a breath, uncertain, her eyes steady on his despite the glint of water dancing around his hands. "You hit a bump. It doesn't mean you can't keep going. It doesn't mean you can't move forward." And quieter, "If you still want to." K'del takes his time before answering, closing his eyes so that he can concentrate on feeling the water against his hands, against his legs, against his feet. "I want to," he says, simply, once he finally seems able to put words together once more. "Don't want to be like this. I hate it, Vienne. I miss just being myself. And then, a moment later, "I'm sorry." Vienne didn't want to do it, but the poor little bluerider finally gives in and steps forward into the water to crouch in front of him. Only it's very difficult to crouch when one of your legs is all banged up and her hands brace herself on the submerged sand while she hunkers down with that bum leg out to the side a bit. "Tell me who you were. Do you remember what you were like? What would the old you say?" "You didn't need to do that," is the first thing K'del says after that, wincing, and looking somehow more regretful for the position Vienne has put herself in, than for everything else. Perhaps it's just that it's more immediate, more visceral, right now in this present moment. He sighs, then, glancing away from her and towards Cadejoth, who has hunkered low in the sand, watching. "The old me got upset, too, but he knew how to channel it, better. He talked to people, the people he cared about, and then he let it go, so he could do his job. Once upon a time, the old me swore he'd never fall in love; couldn't see the point. But he did it twice, anyway." He exhales through his nose, then turns his gaze back towards Vienne. "Everything was easier when I could define myself by my job, you know? Had to be strong, because the Weyr needed me to be." No, she doesn't need to, but now she has. Too late. At the fist good splash, though, she's trying to get up again, using K'del's shoulder for balance as she levers herself to stand. "I do know," she says in the end. "I know what it was like for me - what it's been like. To have something that I thought defined who I was. And it's been five years and I still feel like I'm in limbo. I'm a harper, I'm not a harper. I'm a harper, I'm not a harper. But I'm more comfortable there now. In between. I won't ever walk the tables again, but I can still try to be the person I wanted to be. And somedays I feel like it's possible and other days I feel like I've failed everyone." Her eyes glance down the beach, though there's nothing in either direction but sand and ocean. K'del's shoulder is at least a firm, stable thing to lean on, and his gaze is equally so: he watches her move, mouth twisting in a sympathetic, apologetic kind of way. "So it gets easier," he says, following a low sigh. "Guess that's good to know. You'd think I'd-- always figured I'd lose it, sooner or later. Figured I would after the first time; Iovniath'd never be caught by Cadejoth again. But she was. And now... all those turns, and it just began to feel natural. Most of the last turn is a blur, until all of this, and now... I'm still learning how to be me. What 'me' is, now, if it isn't Weyrleader. We shouldn't let ourselves be defined by what we do, but we... do. Why did you accept search?" "It does, I think. I hope," Vienne admits with a wan, voiceless laugh. "All I know is that when I feel like a harper, I feel better. Maybe you can't be the Weyrleader, but maybe you'll have one less thing to kick yourself about if you feel like the Weyrleader in you would be pleased. And at least, well, you never know what will happen." Oh, but then that question. Vienne has an answer for that. "I didn't," she says simply, her hand reaching out for his, perhaps a prompt to stand. "They asked and I refused. And Oswinth got me anyway. There are some things you can't control. Dragons..." Well, the pick whom they pick, don't they. K'del hesitates, but somewhere through Vienne's recitation, he starts to nod, as though he can actually see, and grasp, what she's trying to tell him. It's enough that he can give her his full attention when she answers his question; enough that he can show surprise on his face, and then the faint suggestion of understanding, awkward and unmoderated. "Didn't think that happened all that often," he says, marvelling at the very idea of it. "No wonder you had a hard time. Guess-- I guess Oswinth was just that determined to have you. Which is... nice somehow, isn't it? Would you like it, if you could do more harpering? Be a craft-rider, more officially? Just... do more, I guess?" His eyes graze her hand, but instead of reaching for it, he draws himself higher, standing, but mostly out of reach, water lapping at his ankles, and higher as every wave comes in. "I guess it doesn't. I don't know. I don't know how many people are asked and refused. Why would the eggs care? Dragons said they wanted me, I guess I was in the pool whether I agreed or not." She glances back to Oswinth, letting K'del get himself to his feet as she takes a step back to give him space. When she looks back, it's with a rueful little smile. "It didn't feel that way. He didn't feel... deteremined. It was more like... a plea I couldn't help but answer?" But that's probably not the comment K'del intended for her to expand on. For his question, a craft-rider, she lets out a heavy breath. "I don't know, honestly. People... question my loyalty enough as it is. And I don't know that I really want to spend my time teaching. I was willing once, but now..." "Don't tell any Candidates that," says K'del, with an abrupt - and apparently genuine - smile. "They might run a mile. Means there's no changing your mind." He doesn't seem bothered, though. Instead, he bends, running his fingers through the salty water, then splashing some over his hair, largely avoiding his face. "He needed you. And you... answered." It's quiet, so quiet. Now, he takes a few steps forward, his heavy trousers clinging to his ankles as he wades out of the water. "Things change, I guess. Whether we intend them to or not. We just have to be... honest with ourselves about that. Yes?" "Well, you saw what happened when I talked to the candidates..." Vienne says with her eyes wide for emphasis and her smile growing quickly. "I thought I painted a reasonably positive picture, all things considered." And of course, one rider to another, she knows she doesn't have to explain how she feels about her lifemate, but as K'del mumurs his quiet words, she glances toward the blue again, who watches her rather closely. "Things change," she agrees, following K'del from the water. "I don't know if it's a matter of honesty but... I think you can either learn to deal with it, focus on what's good, or you can fight it and stay miserable about it. I won't say that the first part of weyrlinghood went particularly well." Everyone takes time to adjust, or something like that. K'del huffs out a breath that might be distantly related to a laugh - very distantly. "Not sure any of us can explain it, not properly. Not in a way that they'd actually understand. Not sure they want to hear anything but the good things. Which isn't to say that Cadejoth wasn't... instant win." And yet his expression, as he remembers, is conflicted; eventually, he has to shake his head, let go of that thought. "Mine didn't, either. Weyrlinghood. But we got there. Beginning of month thirteen, that's when we graduated. Month six? Weyrleader. Not much time to just be a rider, you know?" His bare feet pad onto the sand, gathering a coating of dark grit, one he doesn't pay any attention to. "You said," she remembers, recalling his description of the bronze. "He was annoyingly lovable when you wanted to be cool." It quirks a grin on Vienne's lips. "And then you were Weyrleader." Now it's her turn to think about that, not just his youth in stepping up, but how little time he had before it happened. "So you're new to this," she distills, the grin coming back as she limps along with her bandaged foot collecting all kinds of silty Istan sand. "Being a rider, being no one. Except never really being no one because the whole damn world knows your name." Her teeth catch her lip. "It's hard to be both at once -- to feel like a Weyrleader and feel like no one. It messes with your head." It's not quite an assumption about him, not entirely, but rather as if she's had some similiar experience of her own. This time, K'del's grin is broader; more amused. "Right," he agrees. Some of the smile fades, as he considers the rest of what she's said, but only so that he looks thoughtful, not upset. "Right. It's-- but I guess it was strange for you, too. You were a Journeyman, weren't you? So you went from being a respected adult in your craft, to being--" He breaks off, stopping where he is on the sand to glance at her. "It is hard. Everyone expects me to be something in particular, and half the Weyr still seems to think I let them down by walking out when I did, and so many of the others expect me to walk in and fix things, and it's just hard. When I'm trying to work out who it is I am now." He pauses, taking in a salty, sea-air breath. "But I'll get there." This time, when her teeth catch her lip, it's a little less like a thoughtful nibble and more like an apology. She doesn't deny his assumption about her life as a Journeyman, but neither does she confirm it. "I felt like I let people down when I entered the craft. Maybe I didn't, but I felt... like I was expected to be something. And I wanted to make my own expectation. And then I felt like I let the Hall down when I impressed. I felt like I let a lot of people down." She hesitates there, then explains, "I don't like to talk about because I don't feel like it's respectful to Oswinth. He didn't deserve... the start we had." She looks at her lifemate now though, who is looking back at her with a little something cautious in the way he holds his head. And Vienne is quick to shake her own, to toss off those pieces of her life. "You don't have to know who you are now. Your life has changed. You get to take some time to feel it. But you have to look forward, too." She smiles aside at him and then lets her gaze drift around to the idyllic bit of beach, just appreciating it. "People's expectations, real or imagined, are hard to deal with," says K'del, whose gaze follows Vienne's towards Oswinth, acknowledging the blue with a vague tilt of his head. "But you obviously got through it." When his gaze returns, it's more level all over again, except for the way he nods. "Forward. I want to look forward. Towards-- the next beach, the next curve. Whatever else is out there. I am trying." He pauses, just for a moment or two, then offers the bluerider the crook of his arm. "Walk with me? Glad you suggested coming here. Think I-- needed it." "I don't know. Is anyone ever completely through with their past? Or do they just learn to spend less time with it at the front of their mind?" There's a bit of theory in the way Vienne talks now, less personal, less about him or about her. "Maybe it's just that the more time that passes, the more past there is, and there are other things to think about. Like segues to the future." The idea, or maybe just the way it's come out, has her letting out a short laugh and the bluerider slides her arm into K'del's. "I probably shouldn't go too far," she reminds him, sticking the bandaged foot out. But he wants to go forward, so she's surely not going to refuse. At least she can lean on him. "Not far," he promises. "Caused you enough pain, today, I think." But he's happy to be leaned on, for the short distance that follows, during which time - well, there's certainly more musing to be had. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Mar 2013 12:16:07 GMT.
<
Aw, Oswinth. <3 Just how rough were those first months?
It's good for K'del to have outlets, and Vienne, too. Keeps 'em mentally heal... well, healthier.
Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Mar 2013 15:37:29 GMT.
< "Yes," Vienne confirms, taking some scant comfort in the fact that all her years of harper training have left her able to impart at least that much information to a fully grown man of questionable mental capacity.
Vienne. XD
Brieli (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 09 Mar 2013 02:42:16 GMT.
< I love these scenes.
But I ICly hate K'del and like Vienne. I am confused.
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