Logs:Biases and Big Ideas
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| RL Date: 11 September, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Nahia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brieli meets Nahia. Nahia likes Brieli's hair. Brieli likes Nahia's ideas. |
| Where: Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 10, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions |
| Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night. The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze. "I wouldn't trust the daughter any more than the mother." A strong voice, not slated low like rumor-mongering ought to be. "What Reaches need now is a good, clean, break from the blood." A trio of boys, led up by the speaker: dark, with a scuff of black hair, Johdan. The other two must be smiths, like him, judging by the smears and stains on their shirts. Johdan's working apron is curled down at the front, but he wears the skirt proudly. Talk of plans is cut short as he jabs a hand in the air, interrupting the weasel-like boy off his left shoulder. His sights lie on Nahia approaching, with books in her small arms, and an apple stuck like a cork in her mouth where she didn't have the hands for it. "Sister," Johdan smiles with cool affection, returned to him more warmly by the thirteen turn old, before he leads his cohorts off into another tunnel. Nahia slows, pausing at the nearest wall outcropping to set the books against its edge and get a better grip. It's not an easy thing for Brieli to go unnoticed as much as she once did, but one never really loses the inclination for lurking in the shadows, nor the skills to do so; soft-soled boots help, as do darker colors than usual. This day finds her lingering in a darkened nook, likely to listen to gossip - but when people speak so loudly, there's not much need. Or maybe she's just got better things to do. The tall weyrling slips out just behind the boys, like she'd always been walking there, sharp gaze marking their features, filing them away. But rather than follow, she pauses as Nahia does, amused; "Do you need a hand?" Her tones are calm, even, without much of an accent. "Mmf?" The apple squeaks in Nahia's jaw, but it's a testament to her grip when she can shake her head without loosening it. With another lurch from her shoulder, she gets the books settled in a seemly stack. Forcing them up onto her hip, she can free a hand to pluck the fruit with a light scrape from between her teeth. The excess is plucked off with a half-visible tongue before she bobs an exceedingly polite greeting to Brieli. "Thank you, though, it just slips down every so often." She sounds like nothing to herself -- which means she's from there -- though the hint of keen pronunciation is nothing short of Harper training. "Now that I think about it, not actually sure where I was going. Living Cavern got too crowded and... I've just been caught in a loop." Eyeing that stack of books, and size of the carrier in relation, Brieli doesn't seem to be entirely sure that it will just 'slip down so often'. She'll admit as much. "It all seems rather precarious. For wandering around, at the very least." Glancing up and down the caverns as if she can see through them, she notes, "I don't try to work in there very often, no. The nighthearth was where I went fairly often before we were moved. And I've heard the common room isn't bad. Do all your journeymen take all the good space in your area?" A pause before she remembers manners in there, for the Harper, "I'm Brieli, Iesaryth's. We haven't met, my apologies." "A bit," she squints, relenting, of the journeymen's need of space; a complaint that's passed a different desk: they weren't expecting another apprentice, not so soon. "But that's not it," Nahia hums interestedly as Brieli offers the niceties, rolling the apple onto the books in a precarious perch as she seeks to free a hand for the proper offering. "Nahia, Harper apprentice. Joy to you, and Iesaryth, ma'am." Needing to heft the books back up higher, she slings her second arm around, creating a nice cradle for them all to sit. "You're the pair from Monaco, then? I mean, your Iesaryth is," eyebrows up, to scold herself lightly for her own mistake, "What an interesting story. I mean. What was that like?" With a quirk of her lips, she echoes, "A bit. No doubt. I'm told there's never enough room to anyone's liking. Let's at least find you a table?" Brieli will take the offered hand in a firm grip even so, nodding as she files that away too; more names and details. "Nahia. Well met, and likewise." With a tilt of her head, she starts towards a work area (presumably), folding hands behind her back. Easily, unoffended, "Iesaryth is. My hair didn't like it much there, but it was interesting, in fact. Oriane is interesting. A different place is certainly interesting. It was odd to leave so early, to be behind the others here, though." With a sidelong glance, "Is it odd for you? Or like being home?" "You have very pretty hair." From the mouth of-- well, Nahia isn't quite a babe, though she's heads shorter than the weyrwoman she follows, trotting contentedly with the pace of one used to keeping up with longer legs. "I suppose Iesaryth doesn't remember much. Dragon memory and all." Though, with her tone, she'd gladly defer to a more educated voice as to the subject. Absently plucking at a few of her overly coiled black strands, she shrugs, looking ahead at familiar corridors, "Odd and not, ma'am. Like you say, I'm home. But I guess it's kind of like-- " her mouth screws up, impatiently searching for words that don't come instantly, "I'm missing something? Not that I'm complaining. I'll only work harder, and I think it'll work out in the end..." Brieli absently touches her pretty hair, as if long curls need to be rearranged, admitting, "It takes time." She's not the type to pretend it just looks like that when she wakes up, as much as other girls might. And though she seems accustomed to taking long-legged strides, she's kind enough to shorten them for Nahia, likely becoming used to walking with crafters and weyrfolk of all heights and speeds. Sliding hands into pockets, "She remembers what she decides to steal from me. Or anyone else - it feels like it, sometimes at least." With a wry grin for that, she listens, nodding slowly. "Being away might cause a sort of - gap, yes? Maybe it's a shift in how things are from how things were. I'm not sure that work can do away with that, but then, with your job..." Perhaps. "It might be easier to catch up." "Steal. Curious." Filed away, beneath Nahia's black fuzzy helmet. "Actually, it's the... not being at the Hall that's the gap. I guess. It's like-- there, there's a teacher for everything, and extra tutors, and," her hand comes out to flourishingly gesture each following item on the laundry list, "lessons, lessons, lessons... Here," her hand wavers in an indecisive yaw, "Less?" The corners of her mouth wince, disliking the unspoken inclination that might suggest towards the Weyr as a whole. She wrestles with her lips, and a little twitch of a couple of fingers, to correct it, to no avail. "So..." a shrug as she winds her hand back onto her grip, "I wanted to find something to fill the gap, and I really think I did this time." "I think others do the same, she just... seems to come up with things I wouldn't expect otherwise. It's difficult to explain." Brieli is looking for words herself, but doesn't seem frustrated when they don't come to her - she just lets it go. Considering Nahia's words, she glances the apprentice's way before around the caverns, as if taking the Weyr into account besides. Slowly, "It sounds very structured. Your days are certainly less so here - I suppose that's part of the reason most apprentices aren't posted until later." Most. As they come upon a nook with chairs and tables and not too many people - just a group of seamstresses - she's curious. "A project? What did you find?" Stopping lets Nahia shove the books, with the apple rolling off with a plunk, onto a stable surface and frees her hands to drift up into her hair to run, and pluck a few strands very consciously. "Well..." A flush of adolescent uncertainty colors her cheeks. "I was going to run it by the Weyrleader first, but. Umm. Well." She sucks in a deep breath then puts out her hands, steadying her thoughts by not talking for five seconds. "Alright, so. He and I were talking about how information is passed? Even honest information has to get," she gestures out, marking one set distance, then another further, then another, "passed down the line. While I was looking, it seemed like... even in important things, it was sometimes hard to find the source. So I guess what I'm thinking-- or... what it came out is like... this, every so often... umm. Collection of information. Then sharing with everybody. It wouldn't even have to be something huge, it could even be like-- " in searching, her eyes alight upon Brieli's curls and she points suddenly, "Hair tips!" Easily, finding a chair-arm to perch on for the moment, "Consider it a trial run. I won't tell." It's not a bad suggestion, and Brieli is an attentive audience, especially now that Nahia's not carrying around a stack of books nearly half her height. She tilts her head as she listens, dark gaze focused and serious, interested - though 'honest information' draws a smirk out of the rider. The hair tips has her laugh, suddenly and loud enough to disturb the seamstresses, some of whom look over to wave her way. Waving back, "I wrote a paper on weyrling hair. To prove a point." She's still amused as she turns her attention back to the harper, though fine brows draw together in thought. "It is hard to find sources, and some things have been found to be left out altogether, yes? So who knows what is accurate? Or close to? I've... I've talked about this sort of thing before. If it weren't something huge, it could be an experiment with an eye toward that, perhaps." A rather unladylike snort comes out of Nahia when Brieli laughs, glad, and then, after a second, wary-- and then, after a few words, smiling. "See, you could... say. Mass distribute your paper, then." As an example is tacked on afterward by her inflection, just to give lee-way incase Brieli finds that a particularly stupid idea. "A lot of stuff is left out," she agrees, turning rather somber to the subject, "And sometimes," her hand splays over the pile of books she'd been wrestling, "You can even read the bias. Right there in the Harper text." She pauses, mouth slackened, to realize her voice was getting louder and, with a soft swallow, she clears her throat and lowers her intensity. Sheepish. The knot on her shoulder might be burning. "I'd rather it promote discussion rather than anything else. You know? In the interest of everybody learning more every day. Or something. It's an idea." If Brieli noticed any snorting, she has the grace to pretend that she hasn't, crossing her legs neatly at the ankle. With a smirk, "I'd have to get it back. And it was really quite petty, honestly. I doubt it's the best thing to distribute... but I do find the idea of being able to do so fascinating. Imagine that." And she seems to, for a moment - for some reason, it lights dark eyes, has her turning back to Nahia to nod emphatically. "Bias seems to be an issue - and I'd wondered that. About the Harpers. If influence or just beliefs would be enough to shift an event, change how it's seen. Certainly the Weyr records spin a certain way." Apparently, she has no such issues with blasphemy, though she does keep her voice down. "Mm, yes. Discussion. Learning. If something had to change for some reason, there'd be a way to pass on that information more reliably, yes? It's a big idea. But they're the only ones worth bothering with." "I think it's really hard for someone to talk or write without bias... I mean. Even as we learn, we're learning someone else's bias about the whole thing," discussion on the matter lights Nahia's face as she leans on an arm to get in more intently towards Brieli. "Like... who decided that should be spelled that way? Or that that word means that thing? Some council sometime, I guess. Who's to say that there wasn't someone who wanted to name a fruit a tree and they just got voted down." But she lifts her hands to ground herself to a halt: that's a whole other story. Her little body bounces, as if, perhaps, she were only capable of fitting a single emotion at a time into it, and right now that is excitement. "You really think that? That it's big? Like, something I could take to the Weyrleader, or the journeymen?" "Of course it is," Brieli agrees. "It's just that some people seem to think it's possible. To be unbiased, or for some people to be mostly unbiased, or something. But we're too shaped by our pasts, aren't we?" It's a rhetorical question, one that fades in favor of widening a smirk, telling Nahia, "Old men. That's who decided. It seems to me that men decide most things, old ones more often than others." Her tones aren't quite bitter, but certainly cynical. After a moment, assessing the other girl, "I think it is. But, you know, I might tell the Weyrleader first. And perhaps write something and date it, have your Journeyman sign it when you talk to them. Don't let them take it. That's how old men get to be where they are, I imagine." Lips pressed hesitantly together, Nahia appears more reluctant to speak out on the matter of men, her young body shifting in the seat as she looks out over the caverns -- though it's just women so far, isn't it. The seamstresses. It wasn't before. Picking at a coil of hair by her ear, she shoots Brieli a more narrowed eye at the last. But, rather than look offended by the implication towards her fellow Harpers, she pursues her lips, straightening up with a a refreshed gleam in her eye. "That's-- " a defiant finger wag that settles onto the book with a slap, "A good idea. I'm too young to be doing my Journeyman projects, but that doesn't mean they should just have it." Though, as her teeth work out over her lip, she sighs, "Is that defeating the point? Free information... no... no." Brieli actually isn't needed at this point in the conversation anymore. "It can still be my work, to start." Brieli doesn't seem all that hesitant to state her opinions, but then, she's about six or so turns on Nahia, and a dragon besides - those things likely help, but it still might be odd to hear her be so open about some of them. Like that Harpers might steal one another's ideas - but it does stand to reason, doesn't it. "Free information seems like a fine and good purpose. As long as you get the credit. You've your own promotions to worry about eventually, yes?" Even if those are a long way off. Eyeing those books, "I should let you get some work done, speaking of that. Do let me know how it goes? And if you and your fellows continue to have space issues. We'll arrange something." "Eventually..." the young voice attempts to sidle some out from the weight of that oncoming maturity. But the seed is yet planted on Nahia, and she drags her hands over the covers of her books with renewed vigor. "Thank you for listening, ma'am, and, don't you worry, I'll make it work." Not that the suggested help of a goldrider, of all things, hasn't put a little glimmer of maybe, maybe into her eye. The only distraction now allowed is the shininess of the red of that apple, occupying her hands as she gives into the momentary munchies; don't judge; she's growing. "My pleasure. I always like to hear what's happening around here." Brieli offers Nahia a smile and a little wave, a wiggle of fingers as she pushes off the arm of her chair to go across the way to visit the sewing circle for a few moments; after a burst of laughter from the lot at some joke or bit of gossip, the still-weyrling goldrider wanders off to work, or lurk more, as the case may be. |
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