Logs:Emme's Turnday
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| RL Date: 19 October, 2011 |
| Who: Emme, Iolene |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's Emme's turnday! |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 1, Turn 27 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: E'gin/Mentions, Riorde/Mentions |
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| It's dinner and most people would be eating in the living cavern. Most. Not all. Having figured out the whole inter-Weyr mailing system right quick, made all the easier when you have your own dragon, Iolene's note for Emme was left on any clear surface, offset from the wood or stone by a bright blue fabric, when shook out being a light woolen scarf. The note written in Iolene's neat, if slightly lazy and tilted, script atop invites Emme to have dinner with her in the nighthearth. So that's where Iolene is, her back to the entrance, having somehow shooed everyone else out of the small cavern. Over the table in the nighthearth, she seems to fuss over something here and then something there and every so often, the blonde girl's sparing a glance backwards before returning to her fidgety 'fixes' of what she's set up: a small dinner for two complete with a white and blue frosted cake with a brown colored sugar gum-paste dragon figure on top. All smiles when she got the note, Emma donned jacket and new scarf and got her ride down to the bowl from Rhazekth so she could enjoy a nice dinner with her fellow exile weyrling. "How did you learn to knit so well? This scarf is gorgeous I love it!" the harper-turned-brownrider exclaims, slipping in to the nighthearth with only a slight swish and clomp of boots. And the sight that greets her totally melts her expression further. "You are just the sweetest thing ever, you know." The fidgeting grows more and more fidgety the longer she waits and then there's Emme and Io whirls at the clomping of boots and the rise of the brownrider's voice. There's an instant smile to her face and the thin blonde steps over to try and catch Emme into a hug. "I didn't," is her quick denial, "I just... I paid someone to do it." The idea of having a purse so full to /buy/ things is such a weird, discomforting concept even now for Iolene that her dark eyes flick downward in brief shame. "But you do like it, right? It was such a pretty color and reminded me of the ocean on clear summer days." Emme is quick to return the hug, and just as quick to giggle at the other girl's admission. "Ok, I have to admit I'm a bit relieved then. I couldn't knit a scarf like this if my life depended on it." she jokes, making a face. "None of that looking down stuff, girl. We all seem to have enough things we're no good at by everyone else's standards. We certainly shouldn't need to be embarrassed amongst ourselves." And now she sounds like 'Miss Emmie' again, then holding the scarf up to the light to examine the color again. "It does, doesn't it? I never thought I would miss the ocean. But some days I miss being able to scout the shore for pretty shells." "I thought, as wingleader, you should have something pretty to wear when out drilling us in the cold," is Iolene's next thought, spoken allowed. But there's a tug of fingers that pulls against Emme's sleeve as the younger blonde tries to direct the brownriding exile to the table. "Come eat! I asked the kitchen if they'd do this for me and," yes, more marks were spent. "I asked what people here do for turndays and they said usually there's cake and so." So there's cake. It's a small cake to be sure, enough for maybe six generous servings, and all prettily frosted up and decorated. "Maybe-," the blonde hesitates as she looks to Emme, "Maybe some day we fly back and hunt for shells again." "I don't have to pass it on to the next Wingleader when we rotate again do I?" Emme is, naturally, aghast at the thought of needing to let go of any precious Turnday present. She is also easily led towards the food, her eyes widening just perceptibly. "Oh, Iolene. You went to so much trouble. I don't know how to really thank you. I.. you need to spend some marks on yourself soon!" That cake also looks so enticing that she leans over to get a good look at the gum-paste dragon. "I would love to do that. I want Rhazekth to see it too. To see what made us who we are." "Oh no! No, especially if it's not E'gin again. He's so earnest but if he leads us in drills again I think I might have to do something drastic. Like fill his bed with bugs." Then, as Emme is enticed by the cake: "Do you like it? I'm so glad." She might clap like a child, but seems to recall her age at the last moment and drops her hands more decorously down the sides of her pants. "Sit! I feel so much- better these days then when we first Impressed and-," Iolene plops herself less gracefully into a chair, the proceeding scooting of it causing a mildly unpleasant wood to stone sound in the small chamber. "It was so good to spend Turnover dancing. It felt," the thin-featured blonde considers her words and Emme before, her smile turning sad about the very edges, "It felt like life could go on and I was allowed to be happy again." "You could always fill it with fish bones and guts like we would do back on the Island when someone would annoy us." Emme suggests, with the corners of her lips curling up. "I love it. I really do." she insists, sitting down in the other chair and scooting it forward just as noisily. "It was, wasn't it? I felt the same, in some ways. Like I could enjoy a new beginning. But, why the sad look?" she wonders, curiosity overcoming caution. Iolene's blue eyes consider the cake sitting as a centerpiece to their dinner table for a short spell and then reaches to pass over a bowl of buttered peas and corn kernels to the brownrider. "It's been a very long turn," is what she finally decides to say. "It was hard to be happy when we first moved here and then even after Ysavaeth found me, it didn't feel like we-, I mean, I really belonged." The teenager stretches her hand for the bread basket and begins nibbling on one of the soft dinner rolls. "It's nice to feel like you belong. Isn't it? How are you feeling? Would you even have imagined you'd be leading a /wing/ of sea monsters a year ago?" Emme spoons a generous helping on to her place, passing the bowl back over to Iolene. And then picks up a dinner roll as well. "Yes, it has been. I think we... or I, at least, spent too much time worrying about where we were from instead of where we were at the time. Living in the past instead of the present." she explains, pulling apart the roll and eating it far less daintily then her goldriding counterpart. "It is nice. I would never have imagined being where we are now. Never." There's a pause in her rambling; partly so she can finish off what she was chewing on. But then, "I know you're having a hard time with Tiriana. Is there any way the rest of us can help you? At all? I'm not in any of the leadership classes so I have the time on my hands that others might not." she offers, without a trace of bitterness there for the apparent lack of belief in her leadership skills the dearth of silver cord denotes. "Maybe there are written records about a weyrwoman's duties somewhere." "Living in the past. Sometimes-," But Iolene eschews that thought as quickly as it surfaced, banishing it with a mouthful of bread, as she holds the roll with her teeth while she spoons out some paas and corn. Once that's done and the plate is put away, the roll comes out with a large bite missing. Chewchewchew. "I don't really want to think about it. Being a weyrwoman. I figure I can do other things. Lujayn and some of the others are trying to keep me aware but-..." Iolene shrugs, pasting a smile to her lips in lieu of self-pity, "I think I'd rather talk about something else. I me a healer the other day. She said that she didn't have any choice in being posted to High Reaches, not really. And that her parents really wanted her to be a healer, cause they were healers. It sounded... sort of like how we grew up. Without the moving part."
"I think so. I don't know if she's really thought of anything else." Which brings Iolene to a tentative question, one where she's careful to watch Emme straight on without being creepy; it's an art form really. "Are you happy? Being a dragonrider? I mean. Were you happy as a harper, or did you do it cause... it was expected of you? Cause I don't know if I'd ever have been happy filling in Grams's shoes myself." She forks herself some of the ginger-steamed fish and starts picking at it slowly. The question gives Emme a moment's pause, but she plows through with her answer despite being a bit hesitant. "Rhazekth is truly like... the piece of me that was always missing. I know it's the same for some, but wildly different for other pairs. So in that respect, I am happier now then I ever was at any time before." she admits, worrying on her lower lip and having more of the veggies on her plate before continuing. "I taught the children because it was expected of me. But what I enjoyed of being a Harper was advising the council, and performing the ceremonies, and singing the songs, and keeping notes about island relationships and politics. And reading about it. I miss doing all of that. And I love all the little intricacies about laws and diplomacy. And, writing music. I want to continue with it." Her rambling is only cut off when she starts in on the fish! Iolene's fork flakes the fish apart, a mess of the tender white flesh turning from filet into a mound on her plate. Then, bit by bit, it gets pushed into her mouth to chew on. It's a slow process, but gives the blonde teen some time to listen and think on Emme's response. "I think you should. Wouldn't a craft be better served by people who want to study and do it than those who feel they should because it's expected?" It's all naive, but that's Io. "And I think-, Ysavaeth says I should-, she thinks I should ask you to advise me more often, cause you might be bossy," and here the younger girl steals a look, her dark blue eyes glittering with a not quite withheld tease, "But you think about things and I don't always," says the girl with her heart on her covered sleeve. "I think you should be a harper too. You should be allowed to." "This is really good. And I have to say I didn't think I would say that of any fish dish within the next 10 Turns." Hey, they all swore off fish for awhile, right? Ahem. "It would. But apparently Pern works in odd and illogical ways." Well, to the two exiles enjoying a Turnday meal anyway. "I... Ysavaeth said that. Really? That you should ask me to advise you?" There's a pause before she busts out laughing at being called bossy. But she can't disagree. "Wow, she has me pegged. I'd be happy to advise you anytime you want me to, Iolene. You and I think about different things, that's all. Look at all the trouble you went to tonight. These aren't things I usually think of. But you always do." she points out, reaching over to squeeze her friend's arm lightly. "I think I should be allowed to also. It will take time, but we'll have plenty of it right?" "Aye. Lots of time to work things out. I like Ri a lot too, but she's hotheaded sometimes and I don't think hotheaded works when dealing with Tiriana." The agreement and pensive musing of High Reaches' 'situation' turns quickly into bigger eyes that fly up to the brownrider as what Emme says finally sinks in. "Oh! I didn't think. I forgot about you not eating fish. I can't, I don't digest meat very well yet and... Still. I should've though a little bit more." The consummate hostess her grandmother was, even in their trying situations, would be rolling over in her watery grave right now and such a thought reflects in Iolene's wrinkled features. "I did try, yes? And it is pretty good, right?" Hopeful to the end, the blonde looks down on the fish and wrinkles her nose. "Well, at least there's cake." Which is always something happy. "Nooooo, this was -perfect-. I was complimenting you on the quality of the food. Not chastising you for using fish." But now chastising Iolene for assuming the worst of course, and Emme rolls her eyes in a playful manner. "You tried and succeeded quite well. /And/ there's cake. With the most awesome dragon top ever." Yes, the brownrider absolutely intends to take that home and put it on one of her many bookshelves. "Ri can be. But she's also very practical. It wouldn't hurt to have a number of people advising you. There's also Evali, who might be able to help you with a tea for your digestion." she points out. Chastised, but not emotionally wrought over it, Iolene flashes Emme a quick, bright smile. "I'm hoping this turn will be a turn of only good things. I didn't think coming here would result in anything good but-," Clearly that's not the case as her dark eyes flick to that brown dragon atop the cake. "And I hope all of us get together more often and we should eat in here whenever we can and invite all the other girls," in this she means exile girls for sure, "And maybe sometimes the boys." But there's more small talk to discuss, the boys they went home with last night, Iolene gushing about a stablehand and then listening attentively to Emme's stories of what happened after Io left. Boys? Hopefully! And then there's cake and eating of it and urging Emme to take the whole plate home to share with 'someone' special. But mostly, it ends up being a good, peaceful evening of good food (even if it's fish), cake, and friendship-nurturing girly conversation. |
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