Logs:Good People Still Make Bad Decisions
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| RL Date: 13 June, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Iolene |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Iolene is troubled by recent events and talks politics with a weyrling-tired Brieli. But of course, conversation turns back to babies and boys eventually. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 13, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, E'gin/Mentions |
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| There's no dragon on the sands, no eggs, and yet the rider of the last Reaches queen to clutch on the sands is seated in the galleries. She is, surprisingly, not the only one, as other clusters of folk find warmth and quiet in this heated chamber. An old auntie is seated in the back with her grandchild, keeping an eye on him as he runs up and down the stairs. A group of harpers pluck away at their gitars, quick to jot down notes every so often and then scribble them out more minutes later. And Iolene, she's seated up front, sort of. With knees bent and her chin rested on the railing that keeps people from falling into the sands, she's looking down at all the glittering pieces of shell and sand mixed together. It's late morning and a steady snowfall has started to lightly coat the various paths cleared by Weyr workers. At the very least, it's not slushy. Just snowy. White, white snow. Warm and quiet is exactly what the tall, dark weyrling who stumbles in from the bowl is looking for - maybe a little more weighted towards 'quiet', but warm is not to be denigrated at this time of year. Brieli is dusted in the snow that's begun to fall, white over tangled chestnut hair and dark clothing that's not like to show stains. Her sharp gaze scans the cavern for a good place to curl up as she brushes the melting white off her, stomping boots as softly as possible; as such, it falls on Iolene last, but despite obvious exhaustion, quick steps take her towards the blonde, enthusiasm only dampened by the atmosphere. "Io!" Such is her reflective silence that it takes Iolene a very long space of time to recognize being hailed, and just a bit longer to ken to that voice. Slow reaction times notwithstanding, the blonde girl's solemn expression transforms at finding the exhausted-looking weyrling. It's a look of good cheer, congratulations, and this sliver of triumph. "You're back! Well, I'd heard you were back. Ysavaeth made sure to let me know what happened through their," she pats her head to indicate a draconic mind gossip network, "Thing. And she said she tried to remember to include Iesaryth in her nightly lullabies. But-..." Words fail her as she struggles to get up from the floor, to claim the bench just behind her. Instead, she just smiles, beamingly, at the new goldrider. At least Io's snapped out of it by the time Brieli gets to her; with her own wide smile - brighter than most for her - and echoes, with her own sense of satisfaction, "We're back. And Ysavaeth has been kind in that; Iesaryth is very curious about her, but Hraedhyth seems a bit competitive at the best of times, so... I thought maybe I'd dissuade her from poking around for a little while." Lost for words herself for a moment, she quickly sits, folding her hands in her lap. In a rush for someone whose words are usually so considered, "Thank you for sending me. For your confidence. I don't know if what I did made any difference, but... I couldn't have done anything if I didn't go to Monaco in the first place." "It's funny, isn't it?" asks Iolene, the timbre of her voice rhetorical. "I mean, all these turns and no one really knows how dragons choose who they do, or why. And whether it's something in you or they just know. And what if you weren't there? Maybe someone else would have done just as well or..." The lanky blonde shrugs and eases a little easier into her bench seat. "How- how is that? I mean, Azaylia and Hraedhyth and... I read in the records that sometimes, there have been cases of more than one gold weyrling in the barracks at the same time, but only during Passes and not from, well, out there." Her lifted hand indicates that unknown of Monaco. "I wish-," the reflection in her voice turns wistful, "I could have been there." "I do wonder that. I wonder if any of the others would have... would have noticed her looking. She was looking for someone to notice her, I think. I don't know why, or even if I imagined some of it, but..." Brieli looks out over the Sands she stood on just a month ago, dark eyes as thoughtful as her expression. "I feel like no one else would have fit the same way, but I suppose we all do." Glancing up to Iolene with a slight, amused smile, "Azaylia is fine. Hraedhyth is something else. If Iesaryth weren't so... relaxed about everything? It might be difficult. But she mostly finds Hraedhyth's eccentricities funny. She knows her heart is as good as Azaylia's. She stood guard over Iesaryth one evening, you know." Nodding, over a bit of a sigh, "I wish you could have been too. It would have been nice to see you. And you missed some entertainment." "I... heard." There's a slight tug to Iolene's features, a pained sort of wince that disappears in a split second. "Tell me about her. Iesaryth." But that request is quickly followed by a sharp breath and then another, "And how you feel now that you could-, well, run this place some day." The latter is a little less certain than the former, and the blonde's expressive face can't mask some deeper curiosity; an intense scrutiny that's shaded in her dark blue eyes. Sharp, dark gaze catching that quick shift, with some curiosity, "Did that cause - issues?" Of course, Brieli wouldn't really know; the only gossip she's getting is via dragon, and they're keeping the more interesting topics away from the babies. Combing tangled curls back from her face to tuck behind her ears, her tone turns fond and she smiles a touch, noting, "She's very different than I am, I think. She's all water and ocean. She takes care of me in many ways I didn't know I missed. She's funny, and she seems to like nearly everyone. And she's so smart. Terrifyingly smart. The things she's picked up already..." Iolene's last sinks in, and so too does the study of those blue eyes; now careful and thoughtful, "Conflicted, in many ways. Would you feel ready? Do you? K'del seemed to give the impression that he made mistakes, being so young when he came into leadership. I've... had a lot of responsibility in my life. But not for that many people." Iolene listens, and even smiles at the right places, when Brieli speaks of Iesaryth. Perhaps, some part of her is actually absorbing the information on this new, foreign-born queen. But there's this lingering distraction that halos about her head; or maybe that's just the glow light of the cavern. "I..." the scrutiny of her gaze intensifies and then diminishes as if the teenager comes to terms with something or other, "I think it's stupid. The whole system." Dark blue eyes widen a touch, to both emphasize her point and to wait for what must be inevitable horror. Right? Right? Expectantly, she looks at Brieli to react in some way. Perhaps noticing the distraction, Brieli seems fine with not continuing on about Iesaryth - she's shown manners enough to know that weyrling gushing likely gets old real fast. And though the other teen's eyes might go wide at the bluntness of Iolene's statement; though she might flicker a quick look around the benches nearby to make sure no one's heard such blasphemy, she'll tell the blonde in lowered tones, "I think I guessed that - or something like it." There's a couple of beats before she'll admit, "I don't think you're wrong." Not that's she's offering unqualified support either, but... Ease is slower to wash across Iolene's face, even though it does eventually remove the tension of expectant waiting, at Brieli's reaction; both expected and unexpected. The glance Brieli casts around is followed by Iolene as well, as if the need for secrecy has just occurred to her, but the auntie and harpers in the far ends don't seem to have heard, though perhaps that five turn old child has as he watches the two goldriders with some interest. "Maybe," Io will conceded after that pause of observation of their surroundings and a return to looking to Brieli with ever-earnest eyes, "Our dragons picked us for a reason. That maybe, some day, we could be good leaders, but I don't know if I believe we're the best and only leaders a Weyr can offer. I don't think any seventeen turn old should go through what K'del went through and that the livelihoods and lives of thousands of people should have to suffer through youthful mistakes." Then, a little less certain, perhaps a large dosage more sad; "Ysavaeth doesn't agree." Even for the sake of five turn olds, Brieli will pretend this is a less serious discussion than it is, and hopefully that'll fake him out. "Honestly..." With a purse of her lips, and an air of admission, "Honestly, I don't think Iesaryth cares that much, one way or another. Maybe that will come with time, but it's not in her head like it seems to be with some of the others. But I do wonder if you're right. What madness is it to put someone into such a position, unprepared? When people's lives are at stake?" There's an edge of anger there that she can't hide, that seems to surprise even her - with a shake of her head, moving on quickly, "Was it the eldest that decided for your people? My family... it was not entirely different, though men would not defer to women." Wry, that. The anger in Brieli's words captivates Iolene long enough that her mouth falls ajar as she listens, and afterwards those widened blue eyes become a more normal set. They drop to study her hands, as her thumbs play against each other, stilled only by a forcible clasping. Her knuckles whiten, and she seems to have forgotten the five year old, who for now isn't coming any closer. Still, her voice is quieter as she tells Brieli, "He killed a man, you know. K'del did. Some time ago. A while ago. A long time ago, and I can't... sometimes," the blonde girl, with a look that could be stricken if she'd just let it, looks to the gold weyrling. "I can't look at him the same way, knowing that my family might never have been if someone had decided to execute them instead of exile them. I-," but there's another subject to broach and Io shakes her blonde hair, eyes scrunched briefly, as if to banish the thought of K'del as a murderer from her brain. "Our elders did. Both women. Men. Whoever was the oldest in the settlement and generally," a beat, "Blooded." Brieli has the grace to look embarrassed - or is bright enough to cover by looking chagrined. One of the two. She too turns her gaze elsewhere, out over the Sands for a moment. "I know." That's quiet and heavy. "I read that, when I came here." Turning back to meet Iolene's gaze with her own, she's troubled, conflicted, sad. Fine brows drawing together, "I used to think, when someone did something bad, it was just because they were a bad person. But I'm seeing now that good people do bad things. But it doesn't erase the bad. Or the bad that came from it." Her voice gone a bit soft, she shrugs, trying on a thin smile. "I suppose perspective depends on how you feel about forgiveness." But Brieli's fine with moving on, that thin smile turning wry. "Blooded. Of course. But at least somewhat based on wisdom. Assuming that they'd learned something over the turns." There's pink on Iolene's cheeks. "Blooded," she says again, reconfirming that even in exile, some structures of main land life still held true. "There's a brownrider I Impressed with who is always bothered by that and no matter how often I try to talk sense into him, that now that we're dragonriders Blood doesn't matter as much as capacity. But even here-," the clasped hands release long enough for a trembling gesture to take in all that the Weyr encompasses and means. "There's so much people just do blindly." The hand, instead of returning to be clasped turns to fall onto Brieli's knee. "It's ok," she adds, a little belatedly, "To be angry. I still am, even if I think I might... could maybe. I could love K'del I think. Some day." Careful, "I don't think... Everyone born into privilege is awful. I don't think I've ever thought that. I think sometimes people don't know how easy they have it. You might know something of that." Brieli looks over Iolene's way, still weighted down with something, though none of it touches the other goldrider; all she has is a smile for the blonde. "Even here, some people can do things that others can't. And some of it makes sense. But blind tradition... yes. That, I wonder about." A long moment before she notes, a bit tightly, "They do seem to have a thing about exiling people here, though." Or worse. She doesn't jump at the hand to her knee, but pats it gently, looking down with a nod. "Thank you. And I'm glad of that, if you're happy." "Happy?" For someone who smiles more often than she's angry, Iolene seems dubious about that prospect and in a tone that's far older than her nineteen turns, she remarks, "Happiness is what you make of it. I learned that a long time ago on the island. But happy? I still miss how simple life used to be. I'd make a terrible leader. Making decisions isn't something I like having to do." As for exiling or banishment and worse, the goldrider shifts uneasily and looks down on the sands again. "So many dragons were shelled here and lived here and died here. All believing a Weyrwoman and Weyrleader leads the Weyr. I- think it could be different." There's thinking the entire system is stupid and then there's the constructive part, actually having ideas and the trailing voice and words implies Io's thought about this for quite some time. Lifting brows a touch at that dubious tone, Brieli blinks once before nodding to Iolene. "True enough," she agrees. "I never expect you to be so grounded... but you must have grown up quickly." The 'too' isn't said, but it's implied in her tone, in her gaze, though; "I would have liked life to be simple, once. When we can fly... I'd like to see it. If you wouldn't mind." It's all offered lightly enough that Io could put her off, if she wanted. Following the other girl's gaze, curious and not a little interested, "Do you think they were wrong? That it takes more than that to lead the Weyr? I imagine there wouldn't be a structure to support them if it didn't." Glancing over towards the blonde, "How could it be different?" There's a little laugh, one that escapes before a more sober emotion can sink in again and claims Iolene and her features with a smile that lingers. "I guess sometimes, I can be. I just don't think... I think everyone should live trying to be happy and nice. Grams was really strict but she didn't think life should be lived with regrets. I don't want regrets." Those eyes consider the sands again and then flick up to find Brieli. There's a small smile, with less expectation but a little flare of hope. "Can't deny the fact that other dragons listen to queens. Ysavaeth learned very early how to do that with some of her more malleable clutchmates. But we could be run by a council of the best minds. Maybe all goldriders have to be present, but well- why couldn't each dragon color have some sort of representative that helps decide what happens? And the lower caverns has a Headwoman or..." The sheer idealism is overwhelming, even for Iolene and she stops short and laughs again. "It could use some polishing." A beat later has Iolene adding, a quieter, less laugh-y, "I wonder if Tiriana might not have gone crazy," there's no mincing that opinion, "If she wasn't the only person in charge." In a somewhat darker echo, "I don't want regrets either." Brieli's tone has an undercurrent of determination; she will not have regrets. With her own little smile, perhaps amused at herself, "It's likely a good idea to take a little happiness where you can find it. I... I sometimes think that I'm letting that sort of thing get in my way. But Iesaryth's been of the opinion that I worry too much. Perhaps she's right." As for Iolene's ideas and idealism both, she does listen seriously... but towards the end, beginning to grin, "You're crazy." Her tone is teasing, adding, "That's what they'll tell you, especially with the colors." The thought about Tiriana has her sobering; seriously, "No. Otherwise, every Mastercrafter and Lord Holder would go insane as well. It can't help. But it certainly wouldn't be the only thing." That pauses Iolene, the idea of Lord Holders and Mastercrafters also being the kings of their domains and her optimism deflates. "Oh well. It was just a thought. I think it could work. We could try it here." Iolene leans forward, spilling forward onto her knees again and resumes the position she was in just prior to Brieli arriving. "Ysavaeth," she adds, with her back now presented to Brieli, "Wants to be senior queen." Trying to be encouraging, "It could work. I'm just saying... you might want to think in steps. First, maybe a council of the leadership of the Weyr, say. Then the wingleaders. Then representatives. People aren't comfortable with a lot of change at once. You need to kind of... edge it up on them." Brieli sighs as Iolene deflates visibly, leaning forward to rest elbows on her knees, chin in her roughened hand. Brows raising again, she asks hesitantly, "Does that cause problems between you?" Even more carefully, "Does... does it bother her that she may not be?" "She's certain she will be," is what Iolene offers, but there's so much more there, laden in layers beneath that rich voice. "She thinks I could be a good Weyrwoman cause I care for people, but it's not," the girl looks back at the leaned gold weyrling, "Something I would like to happen. I don't think I could live with myself if I had to make a decision like K'del did. I couldn't... I can't think that I would have to end someone's life like that. Even for the greater good. Wouldn't the guilt be consuming?" "Maybe she's right. Maybe you could be a good Weyrwoman. Some people think that the people who don't want a position are best for it. But I'm not sure of that, not sure that some don't resent it. There have to have been Weyrwomen who grew to resent what the job took from them." Brieli shrugs over her musings, tilting her chin down so she can look at Iolene, think that over for a time. "I suppose the guilt depends on who you are. And I'd wonder if any death is for the greater good. You... you can't tell what effect one death will have. On you. On your people, on theirs. There are other ways." "If my great grandmother was executed, I wouldn't be here today." That makes it very simple for Iolene; death is never for the greater good. "And what if, what if- you find out later the person you killed was innocent?" Troubled again, the smile fades and Io turns back to those sands. "K'del says Rajiv wasn't innocent. I believe that he did what he thought was best, but when you're new to leading... you make mistakes and I think he made a mistake." A hand falls from the rail to her still, non-existent stomach and an oddly affectionate turn runs along the length of her abdomen. "Like karma came back for Rynien, I hope... it doesn't come back for our child. Later. Somehow," sober again, she turns, "It's always the people left behind who pay for their parents' actions." With Iolene turned to the sands, sitting ahead of her, Brieli's lucky; the blonde can't see her close her eyes at a certain name, mouth set in a line of pain for a beat, a mere second - too tired to stop herself until it's too late. Once together again, she agrees, "It's too final, there's no apologizing for it once it's done. And people make mistakes. There's nothing wrong with it... but like I said... it's a life. That's too much to risk." Looking down at Io's not-yet-pregnant belly, straightening, "It seems to be the way. If it were me, I'd try to keep innocents out of it, personally." Suddenly, her head tilts toward the bowl, as if listening for something. Apologetically, "I think... she might be waking up. I should likely go soon." "Do you?" Iolene looks up, regret transparent in her eyes and instant in the apology on her lips. "I'm sorry to like take up your free time with such serious talk. You should be zoning out, or sleeping, or eating lots of cookies. It does get better. The sharing. The sleeping. The living. But mostly the sharing. You can," she looks out to the sands where her dragon sits no longer and then back, "Learn to agree to disagree sometimes." "We can eat lots of cookies next time I find you," Brieli promises, with a smile. "Or you can tell me how I can convince them to let me keep my hair." She touches it as she stands, running long fingers through tangles, looking a bit embarrassed for it. "It doesn't look like much now, but I like it. And I'm vain enough to worry that-- that I won't look as nice with short hair." That's a pretty sad finish - not the reason she was about to offer up, but the other one is too uncomfortable to mention right now. With a smile for Iolene, "I hope we will. Nothing major yet. I'm glad I found you here, really, Io. I wanted to see you." "I refused." But it's the tone of that simple statement, that causes questions: Was it Iolene's refusal or Ysavaeth's that ultimately allowed the girl to keep her hair. "And I promised to keep it in a braid all the time out of my face. You could try that." Pro-tips passed onto the next generation. "It was good to see you too. Good luck growing up all over again." Considering that, Brieli nods. "I think I might." With one last tweak to her hair, she notes, "You can let us know if you need to talk. They're not bad ideas. It's just that some people aren't even open to new ideas in the first place." Offering Iolene a little wave, she heads out to trudge across the bowl. |
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