Logs:Snowballs and Gauntlets Thrown
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| RL Date: 28 January, 2013 |
| Who: Ainslee, Brieli, K'del |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ainslee and K'del play in the snow. Brieli and K'del... do not. Even a little. Information is uncovered. Hearts are broken. |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 12, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. |
| Mentions: I'kris/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Complicated backstory is complicated. If you're intrigued, check out Category:The Exile Queen Logs |
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| Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake. At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space. Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. A couple of days ago? Heavy rain. Now? Snow - and lots off it. High Reaches' wings are used to the snow, of course, and so there's no interruption to the drilling schedule, not even during these most uncertain of times. Closer to the lake shore, a group of children are engaging in a snowball fight, and somewhere in between them all? There's K'del, meandering through the dunes, keeping one eye on the wings in the air, and the other on making sure he doesn't actually fall flat on his face. He's been a busy bee of late, and though it's not as though he has been in on any of the Wingleader conferences going on... it would hard to be miss his fingerprints being all over them. Oh, fingerprints. Dratted little things, aren't they? The only fingerprints that Ainslee currently has to worry about are all over the packed snowball that flies wrong, on a vector that terminates somewhere between K'del's forehead and his chin. IT WASN'T HER FAULT. Her sudden whoop of startled laughter can be heard over the higher-pitched shrieks of the children she's been playing with; mittened fingers lift to clasp over her mouth, mirth and horror commingled in the wide-eyed expression. She's positioned just past a dune facing the bronzerider, blue mittens against freckled face, a harmonious color against her red curls: in the frozen half-second, she may actually pray that he slips on the ice - or turns to look at the wings, or /something/ (anything!). Keeping one eye on where you're going is quite a different thing to 'watching for random projectiles', and though K'del, with two young children of his own, ought to be prepared for such things... he is not. Whomp goes the snowball, flat in the middle of his face, temporarily blinding those baby blues and delivering enough confusion that his foot - which had been mid-step - goes down all wrong, and sends him hurtling into the nearest snowdrift, with a yelp. Well. Wasn't that dramatic. His head pops up a moment later, though, gloved fingers scraping snow away, though it's going to take him longer than that to backtrace the trajectory of the snowball... even with the laughter to guide him. Oh /no/. The expression that crosses Ainslee's face at exactly what happens-- it's pretty hilarious. A passing brownrider oversees the whole incident and nearly trips himself laughing, just over that face. Dismay and dread wars with laughter - hysterical, overwhelming laughter - and it takes a moment for Ainslee to sort herself out, rise up from where she was half-kneeling, and - with concern to care near as much to quickness - treads towards the fallen K'del. "I'm so sorry!" She can't help but blurt out: it doesn't help that laughter still threatens her soft alto, causing more husk than normal. She'll even extend a hand to help him up - "I didn't see you there!" The poorly-suppressed laughter doesn't make this seem exactly genuine, sadly. Genuine or not, K'del seems to take the whole thing in his stride (more or less), because although the expression when he glances up at Ainslee is initially pained, that threatened laughter eventually brings a smile to his face too. "It's fine," he says. "Been hit by worse than stray snowballs, in my time. Figure it's part and parcel of winter 'round here, really. My kids take pleasure in it." And he? He'll certainly grab for her hand to help pull himself up... no. Or not. Actually, he seems much more intent on taking her hand and then tugging, as hard as he can, with the obvious intention of pulling her into the snowbank with him. Take that. Laughter is contagious. Thankfully. "The kids suckered me into playin--" Ainslee doesn't have enough time to finish the statement until her eyes widen in brief distress: she rocks her weight back on her heels but it's definitely not enough; she goes heels over teakettle, FWUMP, into the snowbank, face-first. Flailing occurs a moment, mostly in the oh-so-juvenile-shoving-all-the-snow-towards-K'del manner, before Ainslee finds traction and sputters upwards. She pats down her hair unselfconciously, aims a wry grin towards the bronzerider. "I suppose," reflectively, "I deserved that." It's a snowy, cold afternoon, and a couple of wings are drilling, a group of children are throwing snowballs... and two perfectly respectable dragonriders are half-buried in a bank of snow, laughing and grinning at each other. K'del's just been partly covered by a shove of snow from the greenrider; he spits some of it out dramatically, and then beams at her. "Reckon you did, a bit," he confirms. "But I also reckon we're about even now. Peace? Otherwise, I might need to shove snow down your shirt or something, and then it'd devolve utterly." And the kids, some of whom are looking on in delight? Would be ecstatic. Snow. Yes. It finally came. Brieli does not look entirely pleased with this, but since when has she looked entirely pleased with anything recently? Some might ask ever. She's swapped her riding jacket for a long cherry-red coat, a splash of color against all the white. If she could avoid children, ecstatic or otherwise, she probably would, but there's only so many paths through the bowl; she's stuck passing them, glancing over to see what they're so happy about. By her expression, she might argue the 'respectable', but then... one of them is K'del. Brieli is no fun. "/ha/!" comes the splutter of reaction to the thought of snow down her shirt. "Probably better to avoid it," Ainslee agrees wholeheartedly. "Because snow down the /pants/ is never a good thing, is it?" Ainslee fights dirty, guys. She also fights on whims, like scooping up another snowball when a GIANT RED TARGET makes itself evident. What? She's shameless. The snowball is already in flight. (Hopefully Brieli has more situational awareness when it comes to certain redheads than K'del had.) She's also sinking back into the snow, one turquoise-mittened hand lifting and pointing (kinda) at K'del in a total he-did-it-it-wasn't-me lie. K'del sort-of-semi-maybe-possibly crosses his legs just sliiiiiightly at the mention of snow down the pants. He might do or say more, but his sweeping gaze catches Ainslee's snowball-making, and can't help but follow the projectile's flight: his mouth opens, but no words come out. His hands are nowhere to be seen, though, which... probably won't get him off the hook, not given his look of absolute horror and dismay. "That's Brieli," he hisses, finally, his lips barely moving. He might as well be saying you idiot. Situational awareness, Brieli has. She's also... surprisingly quick. Though the arcing snowball might have come down on her head (her HAIR), an arm comes up in a block, the snow exploding across it as it makes impact. Target acquired. It's just her dark curls are still dry, if perhaps dusted with snowflakes. "Children," she says, rolling her eyes as she drops her arm, staring at Ainslee and K'del. Obviously she's not talking about the kids. Pointedly shoving hands in her pockets - look at her maturity - she takes a few steps closer before eyeing the greenrider. At least she seems faintly amused. "He wouldn't throw snow at me. He barely talks to me." Just like she's talking like the bronzerider's not there? From the WHOOP of laughter coming from Ainslee, that look of commingled horror and dismay was well worth the snowball's throw. She leans forwards just in time to catch the last flutters of snow from Brieli's block; for the goldrider there is an appreciative whistle, high-low, amusement and friendliness. Oh, poor K'del. "Being a kid every once-in-a-while is good for your health!" she cheerfully tells the goldrider, patting her hair free of snow (or trying to - in vain!) again. "Maybe if you'd talk to him, he'd talk to you. Or maybe you should just throw snowballs at one another." Oh, Ainslee. At least she didn't suggest them both getting naked (though that's likely her /next/ solution...). She shoves a patch of snow closer to K'del, flashing him the most innocent of smiles - or it would be, if laughter didn't still lurk just under the surface. "You're the one who has never seemed to warm to me, Brieli," says K'del, with a cheerfulness that doesn't seem to ring entirely true. "Always been polite enough to you." At least, right now, he doesn't sound bitter, although there's something dismissive in his expression - dismissive, and disapproving. He attempts, now, to pull himself back towards his feet, ignoring Ainslee's suggestion of snowballs in lieu of shaking snow off of himself and adding, "Not sure I have a problem with being called a child right now, anyway. Got to make the most of enjoying the snow before it becomes old and tired and why-can't-it-be-spring-yet. Need a hand up?" For Ainslee. It's very trusting, really. In a mutter that may not quite carry, "I've never been a kid." That may or may not prove the greenrider's point, but at least Brieli doesn't seem inclined to tear Ainslee's head off for the snowball. Apparently, she doesn't mind Ainslee. "Everyone's all snowballs and snowforts at the beginning, then a month later, no one wants to go outside." And no, getting naked is not a good suggestion, not for this goldrider and bronzerider. Someone might die. And then, perhaps, K'del's comment shows why: she's just not an optimist. Why enjoy what's going to be old and tired? Lightly, "And here I thought it was until I started to help speak heresies." The last is suitably dramatic; she'll give the greenrider a significant look here. Heresies. The kind that Ainslee might speak? Maybe. And she's pretty dismissive of the former Weyrleader, but that might not be new. There's a pause before; "I do need to talk to you, though." Ainslee has nothing more than an exasperated noise for the sudden turn. She was enjoying herself, dammit! The greenrider laughs aloud, however, for that hand offered out. "I remember how that worked last time," she directs to K'del before straightening out to stand, unaided. She aims a pat for his closest arm, though. "The tension could be cut with a butter-knife," she states to both of the metallic riders, her own tone unwontedly cheerful - and perhaps a bit amused, under it all. "Didn't you both just say the same thing?" About attitude-shifts to snow, at least. She shakes her head, her smile slowly fading at Brieli's emphasis on heresies; her lips twitch sideways, and the greenrider stands with a hint of uncertainty tugging at expressive eyebrows. K'del is far from offended at Ainslee's refusal of his offer; instead, he gives her a crooked grin, on that doesn't quite manage to last as he glances back towards Brieli - though he's clearly trying to keep it there. "Clearly," he says, not at all seriously, "Brieli and I secretly agree on everything, and our real problem is that we're too alike and thus hate each other automatically." But not really. At all. Whatsoever. Ignoring most of what the goldrider has to say, as he diligently begins shaking snow off of his clothes (a useless gesture, really, since there's still snow coming down from the sky), he finally says, long-suffering, "What is it, Brieli? Going to tell me to stop talking to Wingleaders lest I step on oh-so-experienced toes?" Brieli has the grace to look apologetic, at least. She might even glance to extend that apology to K'del as well as Ainslee; she might not actually mean to kill fun and turn conversations dire where ever she goes. Maybe it just happens. She arches fine brows a touch at the greenrider's comment to K'del as he helps her up, then twists her mouth slightly. Typical. "Sort of, but not quite," she tells the other woman, with a shrug. "I should go." Presumably, she has things to do. But perhaps surprisingly, she has to give a laugh at K'del's aside. Shaking her head, his question shades her towards sober. Careful, shifting her weight so her toes won't freeze, "No. It's about something from... before." Vague. Weirdly vague. "Though if you want to stop inciting rebellion, it would be helpful. But later. I'll stop..." She waves a hand eloquently, turning to go. Doing what she does. Oh, K'del, you were so much /fun/ until you opened your mouth. Why couldn't you just shut up and be pretty? Ainslee's uncertainty smoothes out a bit at the bronzerider's jest, then fades completely - into a wince, even - at his last words. The dragonhealer is already navigating her reversal from this... confrontation? It certainly doesn't seem amicable enough to be labeled a conversation. "No, no," Ainslee is quick to state to Brieli-- "Please, stay. I should be going, anyhow. I do believe Leova's waiting on me. And..." There's a hesitation here, which changes abruptly into almost-a-smirk, the grin is so wry: "You two obviously need to talk." She has a quick flagged wave and she goes DIRECTLY to the dragon infirmary, do not pass go, do not collect 200 marks. (She'll even call it salvation... for the moment.) "I'm not inciting rebellion," insists K'del, getting that out there before anything else (it's important!). Although his face has crinkled in surprise and curiosity at Brieli's cryptic semi-explanation, it falls abruptly as his gaze slides back towards Ainslee. He's probably not aware of what he's said that has made her wince, but he's clearly aware that he's said something wrong; it may even bother him. Actually, it almost certainly does. "I-- later," he calls after her, suddenly awkward. It leaves him alone with Brieli. It leaves him to turn back towards her, brows raised, and a sigh barely contained. "Go on then. The fun is gone; the moment is over." Funkiller. Leova. That might bring the briefest wince from Brieli; as if she's quite forgotten something - or at least, put it out of her mind for a time. But back to normal, to Ainslee; "Well. I'll see you later?" And maybe she'll buy the dragonhealer a drink besides, for bringing her issues with the bronzerider down on her funtimes. Lifting a hand to wave back her way, she drops it, letting her arm hang loose for a moment before sliding it into her pocket, turning around. Dryly, "I'm sure you can catch up later." 'Catch up', the quotes are audible. Briefly uncomfortable herself, she considers the area before giving up on the idea of going anywhere. Closing the distance between them slowly, she only stops where she can speak in a lowered tone, dark eyes serious. "Given everything that's happened, I feel that there's something you should be aware of. Maybe I should have told you before, but... It didn't seem a good time." And on that oh-so-very-ominous note, the last of red curls can be seen disappearing into the infirmary. If only she had stuck around! This doubtless will prove to be incredible gossip material! K'del continues to swipe snow off of his coat, though that doesn't mean he can't given Brieli a long, searching look, one that gives him a peculiarly uncomfortable expression. "Spit it out, Brieli," he says, finally. "Whatever it is." Her seriousness seems to concern him, enough so that he finally stops his hands, letting them drift towards his sides in an awkward kind of way. He takes a deep breath - then he exhales, and just stares. With a quick nod, more comfortable with being business-like and brisk, Brieli can do that. But K'del might regret it. She doesn't flinch under his gaze, looking up to meet it directly. And what's more, she'll hold it as she delivers the news, as dispassionately as she can. "All right. Iolene and Ysavaeth faked their last flight. She came to me for help shortly after; she didn't know what to do. So we helped them." There's a pause, but no elaboration on how, what they did. Even more quietly, with a calm that could only be borrowed from Iesaryth; "So when you and your bronzeriders start to believe you can control this situation, remember that you weren't the last Weyrleader of High Reaches. A brownrider was. And I said nothing." There's so obviously a lot going on behind K'del's so-pretty face, but it's hard to see, just from looking at him, what path it is taking. What is true is this: his cheeks go pale, his eyes go cold, and his shoulders go tight, tight, tight. And yet, when he speaks? He doesn't sound shocked or surprised. He sounds... resigned. Almost. Just, perhaps, a little too emotional. "Wondered," he says, quietly. "Since she died." But then he takes a deep breath. "It changes nothing. I am not letting Taikrin take this Weyr down. Neither is H'kon. You do what you have to, Brieli, and so will I. Care far too much about this weyr to see you take it down for whatever vindictive reason you have. Don't know what you're playing it, maybe I don't even care. But this Weyr? I care about it." He turns, aiming to walk away. Maybe, just maybe, Brieli might look a little sorry for K'del when he sounds resigned, when he's quiet. Maybe Brieli misses Iolene too, and it's not as if there's many people she'd talk to about it; there's not as if there's that many people that were that close to her, if in fact Brieli actually was. But that's schooled away quickly into something closer to neutrality - then with the mention of H'kon, just faint frustration. "My point is, K'del - if you would stop and think for a second instead of just reacting and expecting I'm evil - that I haven't done anything against this Weyr. You abandoned it, and I had to drag Azaylia out of her weyr to help me run it. If I wanted to take it down, wouldn't I have done it already? And you don't know anything about me or my reasons for what I do or how I feel about this place." He can walk away or not, at least she's said it. "You're letting Taikrin--" K'del doesn't even finish that. "You've done plenty. You've done enough. And fuck me if I won't do everything in my power to make sure you don't do more. Screw you, Brieli. I tried. You've hated me from the start, and I don't know why. Well - maybe it's mutual, now. Maybe I've given up trying to play nice." He spins around on his heel to say all of that, to stare at her, no longer trying to keep his expression even remotely neutral; no longer trying to be anything but honest. Now, chin in the air, he turns back around again-- and he leaves. At least the rage keeps the tears at bay. For now. It takes a slow sigh, but Brieli remains impassive in the face of all of that, watching K'del, dark eyes gone flinty. "You've done enough," she says, softly, dangerously. "And so be it." Maybe he hears that before he storms off, maybe not - but she follows his path all the way across the bowl before she starts drifting towards the crafter rooms, murmuring to herself, "You can never pay for all the things you've done." Who precisely she means might be a mystery. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Snowballs and Gauntlets Thrown"Ainslee (Castandcrew) left a comment on Tue, 29 Jan 2013 00:03:37 GMT.
Maybe I /shouldn't/ have left, on second thought... >.>
(I always want to say poor K'del, but I can't, sometimes!)
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Tue, 29 Jan 2013 00:19:16 GMT.
.___. Uhm. Uh. Uhm. I don't now who to root for. D: THIS IS HAAAAARD.
On the other hand, so awesome that K'del finally gets to learn more about what Iolene was really like. Or rather, Ysavaeth. >_>
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