Logs:Conditions of Approval
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| RL Date: 26 March, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, Irianke |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edyis asks to stand. There are other topics of molding, shaping and mentors. |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 5, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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>---< Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr(#364RIJs) >------------------------<
At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood
oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis
and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an
embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort --
meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's
head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest.
Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries
depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral
fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts
sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its
several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well
as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever
hidework requires particularly frequent attention.
A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that
extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk
abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.
+views available
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Irianke F 37 5'7" slender, dark curly hair, stone blue eyes 0s
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Records Room Weyrleader Complex
>-----------------------------------------< 12D 5M 37T I10, spring night >---< Late afternoon with a drizzly, cool rain outside finds Irianke working in the council chambers. The remnants of a meeting are still in place, the drudges not having been able to come in to clean yet. A lunch meeting from several hours ago it would seem with leftover trays of food and half-finished pitchers and a large chalkboard of the Crom area, with its various mine holds marked in two separate colors. The used dishes, however, are neatly stacked in a bucket at the far end of the long table, and at the clean end sits Irianke, reading over a few notes and utilizing a personal chalk board to sketch out a few things. "Weyrwoman?" It isn't precisely timid, but there is something of uncertainty written in the expression and carriage of the young woman who slips into the council chambers. Dark eyes scan the room, resting on the chalkboard of the Crom area. "I am sorry, if you are busy..." Edyis trails. "Sit," is Irianke's distracted directive that includes a gesture to the seat closest to her. She's still shuffling through a set of hides and then going back to cross-reference something. The spectacles on the bridge of her nose look as if they might fall down until she pushes it up and with that gesture looks up to find Edyis. "No, that, that's something another wing was discussing at lunch. Whoever had Crom sweeps today. Interesting map though, huh?" "Mm," She agrees of the map, leaning in to study it for another moment before short, purposeful strides have her settled in the seat of Irianke's indication. "What is the difference between the holds marked in one color and those in the second?" Her attention shifts then as the goldrider pushes up her spectacles, hands folded neatly in her lap, palms down. "The ones over there, in navy, belong to High Reaches Weyr's coverage. The ones in the light gray are Telgar's. Interesting history. Crom, for so many turns, looked to Telgar for their safety during Passes and then, one Interval happens and they were suddenly in High Reaches coverage area. Trying to read between the political lines or lack there of is intriguing," remarks Irianke, the series of thoughts something that must have occured to her while sitting in this Crom-filled room as she finishes off her work. One final t is crossed and the slate is wiped with an easy brush of the heel of her hand. "Then more recent history where Crom pitted two Weyrs against each other and... we ended up with this division." Edyis tilts her head considering the woman's words with a slow spreading smile. "Such matters of history usually are. Crom also played another role in recent history, or at least Lord Aughan took advantage of Nabol's situation to secure himself a wife." A finger is lightly tapping against its compatriots with the thought. "Politics." Her shoulders lift. "Lord Aughan is endlessly fascinating. I wonder how he and Nimae might have sparred it out sometimes. I imagine a respectful stalemate from the literature I've read of him and my experiences with her." Irianke tidies her already neat stacks. "Edyis, was it?" "Do you always measure political struggles against Nimae?" The question is devoid of judgment or sarcasm, but seeking to understand perhaps. The once-scribe nods, genuinely surprised at the utterance of her name. "It is." She answers after a beat. "I am not sure if it bodes good or ill that you remember." A self-depreciating smile blooming at the last. "She is my mentor," answers Irianke simply, obviously. "Do you not consider how your mentor might relate in certain things you read and how history might have gone very differently had it happened as such?" Edyis chuckles darkly, "I admit, in my case I usually end up wondering how things might have gone differently had it not been for his involvement." Dark eyes glitter at the thought alone. "We are not our mentors though, are we? Molded by them, shaped by them but ultimately we are nothing less than ourselves, wouldn't you agree?" Irianke's cheek finds her hand, then her chin and she rests it there while her clouded blue eyes regard Edyis. Some private amusement lights them up. "Molded and shaped and yet ourselves? You have an independent view of how the intricacies of our relationships and those we pick as friends make us who we are. They either draw out skills in us we never knew we had, or quell the quirks that would be an impediment. I'm afraid I would disagree with you. However," she will allow this, her hand dropping as her arms fold over themselves at the table's edge so she might lean forward, "I think you might be confusing the concept of shaped, molded, influenced with having your own mind." "I am no longer what I might have been it is true." She concedes the edges of her mouth upturning. "I also concede that what I have become is in part a product of that outside influence." She mirrors Irianke's gesture, her elbow resting against the table. "But, I chose it for myself. Ultimately whatever changes are wrought in me by that influence, are a product of that first conscious choice." She tilts her head then, as though looking at the woman across from her, curious and warm all at once. "Call it stubborn pride, or faulty thinking if you must." "Did you?" Irianke asks it simply, a lurking awareness flickering in her gray-blue eyes. It appears to be a rhetorical question, she doesn't leave any time for the woman to respond and indeed, doesn't seem to expect it as she elongates her torso and breathes heavily. "I don't think you sought me out to discuss the issue of how people don't live in caves, unimpacted by people, whether we choose to be or not. What can I do for you, Edyis?" "I did." Every ounce of conviction the woman posesses poured into those two tiny words, no trace of doubt or hesitation anywhere in her tiny frame. It is her truth and she wears it. She hesitates at the last question though, leaning back in her chair as she gathers the words. "Suprisingly, it isn't all that unrelated." Her lips purse, "I wanted to ask your permission." The answer, unrequested though aske for, draws a small smile on Irianke's mouth. The conviction? The lack of doubt? A nod, a graciously lowered lashes accepts it as her truth and moves on to, "To paint the town red?" The return is in the form of a tease, a humored light dancing in the goldrider's eyes. She suspects. "Red would be a glorious change, wouldn't it?" The scribe grins, "But no. Call it a force of habit, but I think it is generally considered polite to ask those to whom the clutch belongs, political arguments aside, to Stand. It would seem, 'Reaches and her denziens aren't quite ready to let me flee off into parts unknown just yet." "If that were the case, you would be asking Niahvth and not me." The distinction, much like their prior discussion, seems clear cut to the pragmatic weyrwoman. The smile lingers though, humored somehow. "Very well, on one condition." Irianke fishes for a scrap of paper and jots something onto it. It's held out and is a note, with her lovely script and peculiar monogram signature addressed to the Headwoman. Edyis laughs lightly, "If I had the means, and wasn't slightly intimidated by her size perhaps." Conceeding the point, as she stands reaching for the note. "Name it." "Should you Impress to a blue or green, you will consider Igen as an option. I will not force you. I won't ask you to go. But please do your due diligence, as a favor to me, and study and learn what it would mean to go." Irianke relinquishes the note. "If you think you can at least actually consider what it would mean and how you might feel, then take the note to the Headwoman and she will make sure you get your knot and that you are put on the candidate list." Irianke says her piece and looks at Edyis. It is only a moment's hesitation, that brief halt. "Did you really shove cake in H'vier's face?" "Yes." Irianke confirms quickly. "Pity. Waste of perfectly good cake. Was that all you were curious about?" Edyis flashes her teeth in a wide smile at that answer. "I am more than happy to abide by your conditions then." Reaching to claim the note with gleeful mischeif in every inch of her expression. "I know someone who might be able to help with that." Cake presumably, but she is soon off, with a curtsey for the rider and a smile. Irianke watches Edyis go off, her brows puckered in a fascinated amusement. "Mm," is sounded. Then there's work, but before work there's studying those Crom maps again. |
Comments
Laine (16:43, 28 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
Yay Edyis!
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