Logs:Lioness Confronts Kitty
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| RL Date: 6 March, 2013 |
| Who: Leova, Wakizian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rider Leova rounds on Wakizian for his poor sense of life direction, Wakizian cowers, but eventually finds a foot to stand on. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Xhaeon/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions |
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| Late evening has the Weyr beginning to quiet down for the most part. Though some have duties that keep them awake when Belior and Timor make their appearances, most don't. Many candidates are already abed, getting a good night's sleep before launching into whatever chores tomorrow brings for them. In times past, Waki would be found in the living cavern, or the crafter's complex lounge, the Smith's workroom, or even occasionally at the forge. Now that he's a candidate, the nighthearth is the convenient place to sit. He has what appears to be a cup of tea on the small round table, and in his lap is a lap-board used by many a Smith for projects when they're without a proper desk. His has a few blank hides and something to write with. The writing implement is twirled between fingers nimbly, but no words have yet to mark the pages. His expression is that of one who is lost- perhaps only in thought, but perhaps there's more to it. With the nighthearth quieter as it is, conversation might become audible just past the entrance: women's voices, raised, something about F'ren... who happens to be Boreal's newest, youngest wingsecond. And indeed it's a Boreal rider who stalks past after a final flurry, her hands thrown dramatically up in the air, disappearing into the caverns while the other woman enters the little cavern itself, muttering beneath her breath. Its cutting off might be a telltale sign that she's spotted the once-smith, but then her pause just inside's even more visible to one looking that way. After a moment she continues. She heads for the hearth. Without looking back, "Thought the Craft meant something to you." So deeply caught in the web of his own thoughts was Wakizian that he jumps at the sound of the woman's voice, sending his lap tray, and papers sprawling onto the floor. A blush rises to his cheeks as he scrambles out of his seat to collect them up before turning his gaze on the speaker to get a good look at just who it is. "Rider Leova," He greets, his tone holding surprise, "I didn't expect to see you here." Where else he thinks she belongs at this hour is anyone's guess. "Sorry. Yes, it did. I mean, it does." A little flustered from both the tray fall and the questions, he takes a moment to gather himself, setting the tray aside and the papers onto the small table along with his writing implement. "I just-- It turns out that 'Reaches means more to me than the Craft. I didn't want to get sent away." He fidgets now, a little uncomfortable. "Would you like some tea?" He gestures to where a teapot sits on a tray on the ground to one side of his seat, a few other mugs set upon it. She hears him out. All she says, when she finally does turn with a headshake for his offer and the klah kettle in her hand, "Was that so likely? Shells, boy, you've put in Turns as an apprentice, you're a senior apprentice now. How long would it have been before you walked the tables?" "Journeyman Thraland was talking about me taking the exams in the next turn or two." Wakizian has always been one to provide direct answers to direct questions, so it cuts down on some of his chattiness. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "There's been a lot of people coming in and going out in the last few months. Peregrine is-- the new me, I think. Journeyman Xhaeon being here will probably mean Thraland's about to move on too, if Xhaeon doesn't Impress." He pauses a beat before he adds the inevitable: "But they'd've almost definitely moved me once I walked tables. And I don't want to go." His tone is petulant, too reminiscent of the boy she first met him as. While he talks, Leova pours and then replaces the kettle, eventually bringing it with her as she walks toward him. He's taller now, taller than she is, but it doesn't seem to matter beneath the focus of her amber eyes. "Too many people. She's the girl, right? And by the first Smith's broken hammer, why would a journeyman accept it? Are you lot that dragon-crazy, is Thraland going to sneak onto the sands next? Fine, it's Interval, you won't be risking your life in the mission we're meant for, but being posted elsewhere doesn't mean you can't ever come back. Do you good, see more places." "But I don't wanna see more places." Wakizian protests, sinking back down into his chair. "I want to stay here, in my home. If a dragon can guarantee I get to do that, then that's a good reason to stand, neverminding that there are twenty-four eggs on the sands and that means twenty-four-" hopefully! "-dragonets that will need lifemates. And everything everyone's told me is that they won't Impress to anyone that's not the right one. Or do I have that wrong?" He looks to the rider as the authority on the subject. "I don't necessarily want a dragon; I just want to keep my home!" The greenrider's adamant, standing square: "It's an ill reason to Stand. You want to stay so much, apprentice Wakizian, you throw over your Craft and work as a resident here. Is that what you're going to do if you don't Impress? Because people say that about the 'right one,' but seeing as how there hasn't been a fledgling lost in tens of Turns, I reckon they go for the body as who's right enough. A dragon changes your whole life. She's not a thing that you can take or leave. How could you even think that, after riding my Vrianth?" "Shells, ma'am, I wasn't talking about taking or leaving a dragon. If I get one-- I mean," Wakizian's words had come out fast, but as he catches himself using a phrase that is just wrong for what he's learning happens to new riders, his pace slows, "Impress one, I won't just throw him or her aside so I can see to my craft. Walking tables would change my whole life too, but I'm not sure that's how I want it changed. What's wrong with being a dragonrider anyway? You seem to like Vrianth enough?" This tone is accusing now, no longer on the defense, but on the offense, "Would you give her back if you could?" Wouldn't he? Her expression doesn't just hint at dubiousness, and moreover, at a sort of... disappointment. Or betrayal. "Never. But you forget: I walked onto those sands wanting her, knowing that Thread was falling, willing to risk my life and hers, even if I didn't know all it would mean. You 'don't necessarily want a dragon,' you said. A dragon might come to you and not to someone else she might have chosen. Who'd yearned for her. Who'd treat her as the center of his life the way she deserves. Is it because you could use her as a glorified ferry? Or because, if you quit apprenticeship to simply work here, people would shake their heads at you... whereas if you became a rider, why, it's not your fault, it's 'what the dragons wanted,' it's so many other people's dream?" Wakizian groans, "Rider Leova, I hear you. I understand what you're telling me, I really do. And it would be great if all the people who ever Impressed a dragon came into it with a clear head and a burning desire to just be a rider, but I know you know that's not how it happens for everyone. Maybe I'll be one of the ones to Impress, and maybe I'll just burn my feet and look like an idiot come hatching day, but if I Impress, who's to say that I won't be one of the ones to find out that being a rider is what I've always wanted and just never knew it because I never knew how to know what it is to be a rider until I became one. There's lots of good riders who came into this experience not wanting to Impress. And yeah, some of them are not good riders, but that's people. All people. Crafters, weyrfolk, Holders, riders. Don't I deserve as much of a chance as the next person to find out if this is my dream?" "You're changing your story," Leova says flatly. "Before, you just wanted to stick around here, and why, I do not know. Now it's all, 'But I could have my dream! The dream I never knew I had!' In no way did you answer my question. And no. I don't reckon that lots of riders didn't want to Impress. It was duty in times of Fall, maybe, but now, now it's not. So which is it? Dream or 'I just wanna stick around and not get dragged back by my belt?'" Though her voice doesn't rise, her brown cheeks have flushed, and her eyes are bright. "Saying I don't necessarily want a dragon and saying I deserve the chance to find out if I want one aren't mutually exclusive." Wakizian says with a sigh. "And my story hasn't changed." He insists, "All I've kept saying is that I want to keep living in my home. Here. All I was trying to say with the dream talk is that you can't accuse me of stealing a dragon from someone else with a clear dream because you don't know if being a rider would suit me better than being a Smith, and neither do I." He says this with resolve, at least. "I'm seventeen." This is delivered meekly. "I don't know what I want from life. All I can tell you is what I don't want. I don't have a grand dream." He looks deflated now. "What question didn't I answer?" He asks quietly. It's when he gets all meek that Leova's mouth pulls to the side, and she lets out a long breath that might have been a sigh. Wearily, "Thing is. Wakizian. You've had a chance most of your life to find out whether you want a dragon. Don't mean a dragon couldn't make up your mind for you: they have a habit of that. But the thing is, what you said sounded an awful lot like that other person's fate don't matter because you don't know whether being a rider 'would suit you.' And my point is that Pern does not revolve around you. You may not have a grand dream, and I get that. Some ways, simpler that way, grand wants can get a body into trouble..." But she's digressing, and this time she shakes her head at herself before looking back at him. Quietly, "It's a good deed to watch out for people who got dreams, to help them with theirs. What you didn't answer, why, that was whether you'd quit to try'n be a rider because it has more prestige, because you can say it's not your fault even, as opposed to quitting to just work here as a resident. If it's really that you want to stay that bad." Wakizian's head pulls back, like a kitten confronted with a spritz of water. His brown eyes regard Leova cautiously from the plush of the chair with which he seems to be trying to become one. "If there's someone who wants it more than me, they can have it. I won't get into anyone's way on hatching day. I'll just stand there and burn my feet, alright?" Now he's trying to placate the woman, still sounding fairly done in. He swallows. "I'm not sure Smithing is my dream. I'm not sure being a Crafter was ever right for me. I like that it gives me something to work for, and I love the forge, and I like learning, but you don't need to be a Smith to do any of that." He bites his lower lip, silent for a moment. "I thought about just quitting and becoming a resident. And I might yet. At least leaving the Craft to serve as a dragonrider is honorable. Abandoning one's craft just because they don't want to grow up and leave home? That's a disgrace. And I've already disgraced my family enough." By choosing SmithCraft over the family business of MineCrafting to begin with. Leova mutters a low sound, something like agreement but with a reservation she doesn't voice. Not when he continues, and she takes a step forward toward him and that chair, that much more intent and listening. She takes it all in as he talks, and there's another pull to her mouth at the mention of his family, only this time it's not directed at him. Finally, a touch wistfully just at the start, "You're making more sense. Which is to say, some. Hope you understand by now that in your Craft you can learn so much more, all the things they don't tell any old worker out here. Broad and in depth both. And you get better jobs, you get better wages, you get respect and nobody giving you the side-eye because of that knot of yours." She wets her mouth with the mostly-cooled klah, then takes a deeper sip before she speaks again. Not without sympathy, "To me, it sounds like you've lived here most of your life that you can remember, 'side from what time you spent first off at the Hall. And loyalty's a good thing, but I got to wonder whether it's just because you're... nervous... of what else is out there. But. If you wonder why I'm not talking to that journeyman like this. It's because I'm disappointed in him all right, but you, Wakizian, I know you." She's taken another step towards him, looking down as though she could read his thoughts through his very skin. "So I lay this on you: you say you don't know if being a rider would suit you. Maybe you talked to riders before. Maybe you heard stories. But I want you to talk to every rider you can an' really see what it's like for them, more'n you ever have already. Learn about the good things. Learn about the backaches and the achy joints and the way your skin gets so dry from hours upon hours in flight, too. And that's just the beginning. The time a dragon takes. But if you do all that, and then you decide you want to try... why, I suppose I'll have to wish you well." She eyes him. Carefully. If one can be scared in a good way, that's probably what Wakizian experiences as she advances closer to search his soul. And here he was worried about Alida being the one to chew him up and spit him out. Long-lashed brown eyes bat as her words make him literally squirm. I am the chair. I am the chair. He holds his breath, though still obviously listening - he wouldn't dare move his eyes away from her face. When she charges him, he breathes again, some relief in it, "I have been, ma'am!" He squeaks more than says. "And I'll continue. I have standing offers from Weyrl-er Bronzerider K'del and Weyrwoman Azaylia to ask them any questions I can think of about being a rider. And I ask everyone. You can ask anyone!" Whether Anyone knows what Waki's said to Everyone is another question entirely. "I'm trying, ma'am. I really am. I've thought about giving back my knot." For reasons ranging from the fact that his hair will be cut to the idea of working through lunch and for more substantial reasons of someone else sharing his headspace or changing him, as Vienne put it. "But I'm not ready to say I don't want this. I don't know enough yet. So I'm going to keep the opportunity I've been given until I find something that tell me for sure it's not for me." He takes a deep breath and gets a little braver, "Maybe that's not good enough, Rider Leova, ma'am, but that's the best I've got right now. I'm just-- just-- doing my best." His eyes fall, past her this time, to the empty hides left on the table top, and he bows his head a little - waiting. For what? Whatever comes next. It isn't a benediction, but the greenrider's callused hand rests upon his head for a moment, and then flips one of those floppy locks back over towards his ponytail where it belongs before retreating. "So you're working on it, then. That's something. Doing your best, really doing your best and not just what you think is kind of hard... hope nobody ever has to ask more of you than that. Now. See about getting yourself some sleep." The hand to his hair makes him relax a little bit more. Like maybe his best is enough and for once he's starting to feel that way. Wakizian stays statue still until her hand is withdrawn and at her instruction, he replies with a quiet and obedient, "Yes, ma'am." He slides out of the chair and collects his lap board, hides and writing utensil and his now-cool tea. He turns to head for the barracks and stops once he's two steps forward. Turning back for a moment, he calls, "Thank you, Rider Leova, ma'am." There's a small smile reminiscent of his younger days when gratitude was offered after a frightening first flight. Then he's padding off towards his cot. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Mar 2013 01:07:42 GMT.
<
Those icons are so terribly appropriate. Leova's intense enough to shake a grown man, let alone a smith-kitten. Still, it was good to see Waki's reasoning question and to have him verbalize his thoughts. ^^
Xhaeon (Castandcrew (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 08 Mar 2013 03:11:30 GMT.
< Hahahahahaha. This was a great scene. Poor Waki.
(I've got your back, bro. Even in the face of scary-ass lion women. >.>)
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