Logs:Of Meetings And Sporks
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| RL Date: 19 July, 2012 |
| Who: E'gin, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'gin invites the gold pair over to talk about his meeting with Iolene. Hraedhyth and Vysravth make nice and then not-so nice, outside, where they can't break anything. |
| Where: View To A Kill Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 4, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A spring flurry brings in a little late snowfall, though there is no accumulation as the flakes spiral to the ground on a dizzying breeze. |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Brieli/Mentions |
| View To A Kill Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Inside the elegant, dark-flecked weyr, the decor incorporates ironwork and heavy wood into a large hearth and an equally impressive bed. A short spiral staircase ends abruptly in a child-sized sleeping alcove that extends over the dragon couch. The main decoration is a large collections of sporks displayed on the mantle: some are just rough wooden spoon-forks with a place name carved along the handle, while others are really quite pretty, inlaid with bits of metal or intricate woodcarving. In summer, the weyr grows stuffy, though in winter it remains cozy and warm no matter how cold it gets outside. Still, like the ledge-cluster outside, each room is slightly smaller than average, their height staggered. It's a quirky, charming little weyr, overall. Darkness creeps in slowly, most likely a familiar darkness now to the little gold. « I hear you can fly now. » His voice rumbles through the darkness before a faint light shines eerily onto fog. « E'gin says he will tell Azaylia, if she wants to hear. » Apparently the mean should be understood by the rider, and with that darkness fades away again. (Vysravth to Hraedhyth) Familiar darkness is illuminated by a sudden flame, crackling with excitement for the brown. Weapons are lowered, and the quiet worry of Fortians is sacrificed carelessly to his fog. « Vysravth! Yes. I fly well. » A rattle of chains to back up her statement, though even that sound is drowned out by her drums as the message is relayed to her weyrling. « She comes. She hungers. Feed her. » Is the warrior queen's demand, mirroring Azaylia's stomach with her own growls. (Hraedhyth to Vysravth) There is a small flurry outside the comfort of E'gin's weyr. Flakes do not accumlate on the ledge, but they provide a nice view as they dance around before falling to the bowl below. The brown rider is nestled in a large couch near the hearth, a mug of klah settled in his large hands. On a table before him are some snacks, a pot of klah, and an empty mug. Should his invitation be agreed to he's ready to be a good little host. His brows are drawn thoughtfully and he's only half reading the chart settled in his lap. Light snowfall is nothing compared to a true Reachian winter, and though spring seems to be losing this battle, Azaylia is fine to come as she is. Hraedhyth's landing on the ledge is anything but delicate, announcing their arrival with a deep, pleased snarl. Dusting the persistent flakes off her weyrling "uniform", the young woman is eager to take in E'gin's weyr. She's not subtle in her gawking, head tilted up and turning, Hraedhyth doing much the same as she follows close behind. She'll find the brown's couch, growing tawny body lounging in it, laying claim however temporarily. Should Vysravth be occupying it, even better! The gold won't hesitate to lay on or against him, if she has to. "You like, uhm... spoonforks?" Azaylia's quiet voice is even more so, nervous about invading his space. "Thank you." For inviting them, a pained glance sent for her dragon. "And, sorry." She'll make it to the hearth, standing nervously until otherwise motioned where to sit. E'gin looks up as the pair enters, his reflectiveness put on pause in order to offer a warm greeting. "Make yourselves..." But he trails off, laughter erupting as the gold does just that. Vysravth was lounging, until he his land is occupied, yes, but claimed? He doesn't seem to think so, his head lifting, tilting, protective, or perhaps possessive, over the resting gold. Though he has grown accustomed to speaking with her, she has not yet been into his territory, and there is something endearing about her forwardness, the brown rumbles softly at the baby gold, an almost affectionate tone that he most certainly deny even being able to make. "You should be more like your dragon." E'gin grins, waving at a seat when his attention finally turns back to Azaylia. "Have some food, klah?" Hraedhyth is quite comfortable without the usual fear of crushing her smaller clutchsiblings. Vysravth is not her first snuggle-victim, and likely won't be the last. The gold growls back up at the brown, comfortable where her weyrling is nervous, lowering her own head atop still oversized paws. Azaylia looks more startled than normal, before dissolving into soft laughter. "I don't here that often." Though there's been similar sentiments shared at her gaining some of her gold's innate confidence. Sitting down, she smooths her hands over her tights, "It's about lunchtime for us." That'll be the only excuse given when she begins to serve herself a portion that borders on unsettling, for those unused to Azaylia's appetite. "Well not in all ways." E'gin agrees with Azaylia, "Just feel free to make yourself at home here." A broadening smile creeps across the rider's face as she does indeed help herself to food. The brown, who rarely snuggles, even after catching, eventually settles down next to the smaller gold, it helps that she has not yet reached full size. "Please, eat it all." The male carefully rolls up the parchment, previously sitting in his lap, and sets it on the floor. "How are you two? Flying now, should get your own weyrs soon. Happy about that?" He wrinkles his nose around his, "Keep saying I'm going to get rid of those things." His eyes settling on the sporks, "They were here when we moved in. Kinda creepy, actually." Azaylia may be taking E'gin's insistance to heart, because there's a hearty pile on her plate by the time she thinks about stopping. "Thank you." She repeats, before bringing a meatroll to her mouth and doing away with more than half. There's a firm nod to answer his question as she chews, lips tightly closed though upturned in a smile. Only after she's had a sip of klah does she explain further, "I was a little sad at first, about leaving everyone in the barracks. I've only ever lived in dorms with other people." This time she takes smaller bites, for her at least. "Hraedhyth isn't too happy about having a weyr anyone can get to." For security reasons. "I am, though." Hraedhyth argues even then, grumbling and shifting in her discontent before stilling. "The sporks add a certain... something?" Yeah, creepiness. E'gin laughs softly at the comment on the decorations and shakes his head, "Well, thanks for trying to make me feel better about them anyway." Shifting in his seat he studies the female as she eats, he has a plate, it was full before she even showed up but is till untouched. The corners of his mouth pull down in a thoughtful frown. "Are you sure you want to know what I think, what I learned?" A momentary pause, "I don't want you to think less of me, because of it." There is some genuine worry in his features. Food hovers for a moment in front of her mouth, pausing at his question and the brownrider's frown. After a moment, "Yes, I'm sure. I like knowing what other people think." Unsure of her own judgement as she is. The bit of food continues it's journey, however sour Azaylia's face may get afterwards. And it's not for the taste. "Why would I..? No. Never. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinions." Words come easily to her, said often in the days of Ysavaeth's rising to Senior Queen. "Even if I don't agree with them." A gentle smile for reassurance, she gives a final nod for him to go on. "When Iolene and I were werylings she wasn't given training, but with some help from Lujayn, I convinced Giorda to help train her without-" A pauses as he tries to figure out how to phrase whatever is coming next, "telling Tiriana." It is safe to admit now, the goldrider gone and the headwoman fired. "She refused, said she didn't want to be senior ever anyway. We had a big falling out about it. You can imagine my surprise, not only that Ysavaeth rose so quickly, but that Io didn't step down" He finally glances up from his quickly cooling mug of klah to meet Azaylia's eyes. Azaylia listens with rapt attention, eyes wide and eager without seeming too much so. It's honest curiosity, though her hand and jaw doesn't still even at the more surprising bits of information. "I don't blame her, I mean..." Not wanting to be senior and all. "But the dragons decide." She does stop for a moment of sympathy, face softening for the rift between he and Iolene. Catching his gaze, she's startled into speaking though it's with optimism that is itself hoped for rather than felt. "Could she, even if she wanted to?" Her own mug is lifted, cooled with a breath before sipped. "The dragons decide." E'gin echoes, faintly, thoughtfully. "Iolene doesn't think that is a great system of government, too arbitary." His head cocks slightly, "I agree and I don't. The dragons see something in someone. That doesn't mean they'll be great, but it means they have the potential for leadership. Then it is up to the person do what is right." Chewing on his bottom lip for a moment, he shrugs. They've talked about that before, "It does have the potential for a Tiriana, but the Weyrleader should balance it, and it makes more sense than basing leadership on blood." Her last question makes him stop to think, "I don't see why not, older weyrwoman can retire when they are no longer able, I don't see why she couldn't, but she has other plans anyway." Azaylia is in full agreement with him on several of his points, nodding fast enough for her pigtail tufts to jostle as she chews. With her plate already halfway cleaned, the brunt of her hunger is dealt with. "It's strange. It is." Speaking as a holdbred girl, she'll give Iolene that much. "But it makes sense in a way that Hraedhyth understands. It's simple. When someone Impresses it's like... a second opinion? That someone has that potential." She's far from claiming it's perfect, however, taking a timely bite of food instead. "I think that.." Hesitant to argue his points, even as gently as she is. "When a weyrwoman retires it's because they aren't able to lead. Iolene can, she just needs to train with us a bit more." The mention of the Weyrwoman's plans have her looking to E'gin, curiosity growing with the widening of her eyes. "I agree, but if she refused to train, if she refused to lead, how could you force her?" E'gin shrugs, and takes his time before answering, finally addressing his plate of food. A small bite of meatroll is taken, less for the sustenance and more for the time it allows him to think. He chews slowly, holding the suspense without fully registering he is. "She wants to do away with the weyrleaders, and make a council. Riders of all colors and, and several golds, not just one." His presumable invitation and decision on such matters remains unvoiced. It is probably easily discernible given the look on his face. He looks at the goldrider across from him. Considers her, quietly. "It is okay to disagree with someone, even me." He manages a teasing grin across the small table between them, leaving her free to tell him it is a wonderful idea if she chooses. Azaylia's plate is lowered to the table, considering his words and filling her hands with a mug of klah instead. The waiting may be the reason for her quietly bouncing leg, though otherwise she seems the picture of patience. Lips touch the rim of her drink as he speaks, forceful swallow sounding as painful as her face makes it look. Still, better than a spittake. "She- what? What about K'del? He loves the Weyr." Sounding even breathless from the trauma to her throat, she sets the klah down. It's no longer safe to drink. "I, I mean it doesn't sound like such a bad idea by itself. Without getting rid of the Weyrleaders." That's clearly the problem she has with Iolene's plans. Hraedhyth stirs at her weyrling's panic, lifting her head and giving a snarl in E'gin's direction. Technically, he is the cause for Azaylia's distress. Even E'gin, who is against the plan, seems feel the need to ease Azaylia's distress. "Don't..." It is soothed out, as one might say to a ease a crying child. "I didn't mean to make you panic." A lopsided grin is managed. "She wouldn't tell me what K'del thinks," Quickly adding, "I'm telling you this in cofidence so that you can really consider it." He frowns, "No, I agree, a council underneath they weyrleaders does seem important, but isn't that what the wingleaders are already?" It's an honest question, looking for the goldrider's thoughts on the positions of wingleaders. Vysravth does not stir, at least visibly, but the rumbling thunder of his voice seeks to calm, a distant storm on a warm summer night. « Sometimes ideas are stressful, but they must be confronted and considered. » He anchors the heel of his boot on the bottom rail of the table, leaning back into the couch. "It would have the possibility of keeping another 'crazy' goldrider from having free reign, but I don't see it being able to hold up during a pass, and can the weyr, and those beholden to them, have stability with a leadership structure that changes back and forth? And even an entire council can be corrupted." He voices his own concerns in a tone that expresses desire for feedback, discussion. "He might not even know. When I saw him, he hadn't talked to her about it." That sets her to fretting even more at her friend's expense. Hraedhyth bristles figuratively, though the strain on her bond has her shifting next to Vysravth as well. « She cares deeply. » For all of the Weyr and its folk, drums pounding defensively; Not a weakness. « We will be strong. I will help her. » Determined though she may be, she isn't so delusional to think that Azaylia is ready to tackle all of Pern's problems. Yet. The young woman is perhaps a touch sheepish in her answer, "I-if the Wingleaders were always green, blue, and brown? But you can have two browns, or more greens or bronzes..." Unbalanced, rather than each color being heard. Food is forgotten with a sigh, "But we're all dragonriders. I don't know if stressing colors won't hurt more than help. We want to keep the Weyr together, like a..." Hraedhyth's head drops once more, though her input is thumped into all their minds a bit savagely. « Tribe. » Azaylia bows her head in quiet apology, though there's a faint smile as she speaks. "It's not broken. It doesn't need to be fixed. Maybe improved, but not completely done away with." Said down towards the table, quietly. "He must be in a tough spot," E'gin is willing to give the man that much, "I thought about talking to him about it. I'm not sure if it is my place." Shifting on the couch, as the dragons' conversation mingles with the humans'. « E'gin cares too. It is good to care. » The brown leaving room for the anxious weyrling to move. "Wingleaders are traditionally more heavily bronze and brown because they can fly a whole fall, right? It gives cohesiveness," He pauses, "Like the weyrleaders." Sipping at his cold klah, if only to have something to do with his hands, "I don't think the color is so important, minus gold..." Vysravth rumbles aduibly, before settling back down next to the gold. "Yes, we should be a tribe. We are working on that." The ex-islander grins at the girl. "I think what improvement needs to be done could be done without disbanding the whole system." His grin falls into a frown, "I am very bad at communicating with Iolene, though. I do not think I helped the situation." His guilty confession thrown out. Azaylia has retreated into her chair, long legs and boots thoughtlessly tucked up under herself. "If you offer support," A pause as she isn't one to be so bold. Big surprise. "Or just listen, if he needs to talk about things... K'del might appreciate that." A hand reaches for hair that isn't there, and hasn't been for months now. It falls to her lap, where she can squeeze and wring them nervously, "That does make sense during a Pass..." While she's welcome to disagree, it doesn't seem as though there's much of a need. E'gin's frown sparks her to reach forward, giving his hand a soft pat. "Maybe I can talk to her? Or Brieli, if she hasn't already." Hraedhyth will fall still, though Vysravth may be treated to a sharp nip or two every now and again. Just because. "K'del will need support." E'gin agrees, "I will think about it." Is all he'll offer for now, for as nervous as the girl wrings her hands, her willingness to tuck herself into a chair in his weyr makes the brownrider relax. "Do you think Brieli knows? What do you think she will think?" Of course, speculation isn't really as important as what Brieli will end up thinking. "What I think doesn't matter really at the moment. I'm just a rider. Iolene, K'del, whoever else she gave those invitations too, and you and Brieli- those are the opinions that have the possibility of changing things." Vysravth weathers the nips well enough, « What would you do if I bit you back? » He teases opening his still, at the moment, bigger mouth teasingly. "That's all I could ever ask." Words carried on a soft sigh, she tries not to think about it all at the same time. Hraedhyth's quiet growls are an indication of how well that's going. Louder snarls are a reminder for the overwhelmed weyrling to focus on remaining calm. "Brieli probably does. She's better about figuring things out." Or finding them out. "I honestly don't know. She... she's so different from me." This is said with a fondness warming her tone, matching the smile that tries to remain through her words. "I guess that means she might think Iolene's idea is a good one?" But don't quote the weyrling on that. Hraedhyth tilts her head upwards to part overly large jaws that, unlike her paws, she may never truly grow into. « I would bite you harder. » A playful threat, but not an idle one. E'gin grins slightly at the sigh, "I could see that." Is his response to the girl's assessment of Brieli, "She is very different from you, but different is good, it keeps balance." The brownrider shrugs slightly and nods, "Yes, it could. But she seems reasonable enough, willing to talk it out." Especially since she seems fond of Azaylia. Vysravth's abandoned weyr rumbles with an appreciative laughter, « Oh. I see. » Said playfully, « That seems like it could spiral out of control very quickly, Little Queen. » "I like it. I feel like she helps me. And Iesaryth helps Hraedhyth." For that, Azaylia sounds grateful. "Sometimes I feel like it isn't fair, that I'm not giving as much as she is." But so far there is a balance, one that the weyrling clearly cherishes. Hraedhyth snaps her jaws shut, clubwings thumping loudly against her sides. « Lil' Queen. » Heated correction simmers into a friendly warmth, distracted for only a moment. « It sounds like fun. » Chaos and wrestling, fighting and living! Those flames are reduced even further, although reluctantly. « Azaylia says we should not. We might damage your... sporks. » "You help her too, I am sure, even if you don't know it." E'gin knows, there is some hint that she helps him too. "You shouldn't doubt your importance, Azaylia." A slow smile, encouraging, for his friend. Vysravth lifts his head to study the gold. « You are rather demanding, l'il queen. The nickname was my gift to you. » The slightest touch of sarcasm on the 'lil', there is something in the command that makes the brown uncomfortable, almost as if by doing so she has hurt his feelings in some way, though he says nothing else about it. « Wrestling does sound like fun, and E'gin says you may take a spork with you, if you'd like. » Azaylia gives another exhale, feigning annoyance when in fact she's pleased by E'gin's words. "Now you're sounding like everyone else." It still means something to the young woman, "I'm trying. I just... don't ever want to think that I'm more important than anyone else." Like Tiriana. "I know what Hraedhyth is, and I know what she means... but that's it. Nothing more." The dragon in question loses her spark, snuffed out by surprise at Vysravth's tone. « I enjoy it. » She doesn't sound guilty in that, but there's a thoughtful weight behind the beating drums. It disappears in an instant, and her plains are alive with stomping celebration. « Wrestle! I will have Azaylia choose a trophy for me. Come- » Frustration flairs as a gentle, familiar pressure stresses some manners. « Can we battle outside? » Hraedhyth growls as Azaylia mentally nudges further. « ...Please. » "Maybe everyone else is on to something." E'gin chuckle turns into an small smile of admiration, "You can think that you are important as a person, as a leader without feeling like you are more than anybody else. All the jobs in the weyr are important, including her." A sidelong glance at the rough and tumble gold. « I am glad. » The brown is genuine in this. « My ledge is very small. Is yours okay with us going down to the beach? » E'gin simply raises an eyebrow, "Be careful with her." The idea having been run by him first, "He could be pretty rough at first too. He gave Sforzath a pretty nasty cut the first day." So in some ways the boy understands. "At least she doesn't mean to hurt anyone." Vysravth did exactly what he intended to do. Hraedhyth lurches into motion, shaking off the calm that had taken hold of her long enough for snuggling. Now is not the time for love, but for WAR. « It is fine. » Quickly enough that Azaylia's consent may be questioned, the gold loping out onto the ledge and tossing a deep bellow back at the brown. « Come! » As much of a command as it is an excited youth's plea, all four limbs stomping restlessly as she waits for Vysravth. Rather than worry, the gold weyrling can only laugh at her dragon's antics. "It's fine." She echoes, just in case there is any doubt. "If anything, I'm afraid she'll accidentally hurt him." Though she does peek over her shoulder at them, "Be good, you two." Whatever the response is from her lifemate, it has Azaylia standing with a laugh. "I'm supposed to pick one out for her." A finger wiggles at the variety of sporks. Vysravth does indeed follow, in less of a hurry than the gold, but willing to accommadate some for her youthful energy. « I will not always go easy on you, like last time. » He knows what buttons to push, though his voice shakes with laughter. Muscles coil, powerful shoulder unfurl heavy wings, which he will flex for a moment more than necessary before propelling into the sky. There is show for the queen, a roll or two, as he spirals down slowly toward the lake shore below. "He is fine. Big as a small bronze." E'gin can't completely hide the pride in his voice. "Oh, you get it pick it, how special for you." The rider stands, and makes his way to the arragement, "We have all sorts of adornments for you to choose from. This one is gold plated, for the dragon with expensive tastes." Mimicing a sleazy trader that would be found in the darkest corners of a gather, or port side. "Or perhaps you prefer the simple wood carved utinsel, and for the animal lover the llama-fur covered..." Holding up the purpose confused tool, "Runner? Feline? Well fur covered anyway..." A show though it may be, Hraedhyth sees it as a challenge as well. There will be a whooping to accompany her drums for the brown's feats, following his lead in a sloppily executed roll. He's had more practice, more training than she. "That used to frighten me." Azaylia admits at the mention of Vysravth's size, one last glance towards the now empty ledge before she steps towards E'gin. "I know what she likes." She sounds playfully exasperated, leading into a surprised laugh at the older rider's trader schtick. "Maybe the fur covered one." Hraedhyth isn't going to be using it to eat, after all. "Unless you have one..." She looks momentarily pained, or perhaps embarrassed by the request. "...carved from bone?" The weyrling really does know her dragon's tastes. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't looked through them." Azaylia's laugh is responded to with an easy smile, "Really, they weird me out a little, but they were here when I was assigned the weyr. I don't feel right throwing them out." He's been looking through them as the speak. "Oh!" A cry of victory. "This must be made out of a rabbit foot or something." Pulling the spork out of the arrangement. "Here." And it finally registers, "Vysravth was frightening to you? He can be intimidating to strangers." Or anyone who isn't E'gin, he looks at her apologetically. "Will this make up for it?" The fork-spoon is held in front of him, an odd peace offering made of the unfortunate end of some other creature. Vysravth banks and dives steeply, another feat for the gold to try, before landing on the beach, sand mushrooming up in a small cloud around him. Azaylia waits patiently with folded hands in front of her, weight eases onto her toes in a curious lean forward. "Oh!" Exclamation much quieter, she inspects the bone spork with pleasant surprise in her dark eyes. "Thank you. Hraedhyth will love it." Even if it sounds as though she's quite fond of the bone spork as well. Inspecting it, her gaze is lifted by confusion at his words. "O-oh, no, I meant big dragons as a whole. I'm sure he would have scared me, if we had met before." Before Hraedhyth. The gold banks and falls from the sky with far less grace, having enough sense to slow before she hits the ground with a WHUMP. A split second later she's charging in an attempt to tackle Vysravth. For all her energy, the way she throws herself into the mock battle, any injury will be accidental. Likely getting as good as she gets, any scrapes and scratches will be taken like a true warrior. Azaylia can fret over them later. |
Comments
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Fri, 20 Jul 2012 01:56:45 GMT.
Brieli: "I want there to be a better way. I keep trying to tell people that a different perspective is a good thing - I think it took someone like you to see that it is broken."
Azaylia: "It's not broken. It doesn't need to be fixed."
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Fri, 20 Jul 2012 01:57:45 GMT.
Which is to say, <3!
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Sat, 21 Jul 2012 17:37:26 GMT.
Not to invalidate this entire log...
... But Iolene never mentioned a council of colors to E'gin. She said a council of elected riders and residents. I think you used something you read in another log that was her earlier thoughts and morphed them into our scene. ;-;
Elgin (Elgin) left a comment on Sat, 21 Jul 2012 20:21:38 GMT.
Woops. I really thought she had, I even had to go back and read the post where I thought it was.
Not sure it invalidates the whole log though, I'll talk to Azaylia maybe we can just fix that part up.
Could change it to "Riders of all colors." Which since they would electing riders regardless of color is basically the same thing.
I'll talk to Azaylia and see what she wants to do.
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