Logs:Workout
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| RL Date: 22 October, 2014 |
| Who: Edyis, A'rist |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Punching bags and Philosophy |
| Where: Workout Room, High Reaches Wey |
| When: Day 23, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, R'sig/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: As usual feel free to add/edit/correct anything I may have missed. |
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| Workout Room, High Reaches Weyr(#1636R) This larger sub-cavern - located not far from a tunnel accessing the outside - has an arching ceiling and smooth-hewn walls to better facilitate both safer workouts and better circulation for the Weyr's residents, if the outside weather is inclement. Various implements are stationed in ordered symmetry about the cavern, including free weights, punching bags, and many others. Along the glow-lit walls are pegs for holding clothing, and large mats hang from sturdier braces, allowing for softer falls, while large covered bins and lockers hold smaller necessities, such as boxing gloves, jump ropes, and more. There is a certain comfort in familiar rituals, and while she may not be a familiar sight in the work out room, the sound of impacts against the bag would suggest that she is not at all unfamiliar with the routine, dark eyes focused as each series of blows is landed. Edyis's been at it a while judging from the sweat and the slight shortness of breath that is beginning to show, even though the sun on the snow in the bowl would suggest it's early morning. A'rist is among the many riders who frequent this place, although by far not the most frequent visitor. Most of his training occurs along with Lythronath, after all, and this room is not fit for housing a dragon, least of all Lynner. It's routine enough, though, that other occupants tend to be given a quick glance, and that's it. He's already kicked off one boot before recognition prompts a double-take. "Explains how come you weren't in the kitchens." Other boot, off, and he shoots a quick glance back toward the entrance, where there is, currently, no one. The comment has her stilling the bag with both hands and turning in the direction of the familiar voice. Caught! "Guilty as charged I suppose." She responds once she confirms that it's A'rist speaking. "Usually not in here though." She adds finding her towel and the nearby canteen. "How have you been?" "Hard to deny it, otherwise," observes the bronzerider with a little bit of a strange twitch to his mouth. Both boots are set together, off to the side, under the clothes pegs. Each sock is removed, and placed in its corresponding boot. A'rist flexes his toes against the cool floor, and only then looks from his feet, and back over to Edyis. He shrugs. "Same as usual, I guess? Well... same as... We weren't re-routed or anything, with all this." "And yet I've been known to try. I've even succeeded even a time or two." Denying things Edyis must mean, after downing a gulp from the canteen whilst grinning. "She's quieted Tillek at least, and probably confused even more people here at the weyr. I'm sorry to lose the chance to get to know her better. Still, dragons have short enough memories that things will be all too normal soon enough I imagine." The words carry a mild sadness in the last, capping the canteen and setting it back to the bench before heading back over to the bag she was working. "The storms might've quieted Tillek just as much," says A'rist, tone dry at that. He starts to tug up at the base of his shirt, but, with another look toward the door, pauses. Feet shift idly on the cold floor. "I don't know if that's all how dragon memories work," he decides, at last, as he starts toward the wall to secure a mat. No, two. "They get to have ours too, you know." Riders, presumably. "And it's not that things don't leave marks on them, even if they can't place it. Might just be that life has to go on either way. We all get over stuff." Edyis begins working the bag again, the soft thuds punctuating the words. "Might have quieted them, yes but, I still don't think that detracts from what she did." She keeps watch on A'rist from the corner of her eye chuckling a little. "Dare I ask who you are sparring with? Don't let me bother you; I can go somewhere else if it's going to make you uncomfortable or something. I'm going running after this anyway." A'rist is getting those mats arranged, each one hitting the floor with the 'fwack' of escaped air from beneath for how he's let themf all. He nudges them with the balls of his feet, toes gripping the mats over the edge. "R'sig. Alpine bronzerider. He was our mentor, in weyrlinghood." If she knows the man, she'll know he's much bigger and broader and stronger and rougher than A'rist. "Sparred in front of people before," he adds, with a shrug. Once the mats are well-settled, and he's sat on them: "Iesaryth was Lythronath's mom, you know." "I hadn't forgotten." Edyis states simply. "That Iesaryth is a terrible loss was never in question. It's her rider that people mutter about. People are relieved about." Hitting the bag a little harder, and picking up the tempo, perhaps indicating how much disgust is left out of the actual word for all it's emphasis. "Or does human life not weigh equally with a dragon's in your book?" A'rist nods from where he sits on the mats. He's watching his toes again, and in time, leans forward to poke around at the big right nail. "I didn't know much about Aishani. I didn't ever really talk to her. It wasn't her I asked to stand." He shrugs. "And do you just figure everyone's life's equal to everyone else's? Just 'cause you got legs and arms and thumbs and stuff?" A glance up to her, his grooming paused. "No I'm very selfish. People I care about rank higher than others. I've got a values system that's likely to seem incredibly screwed up in the estimation of others, but it's never let me down so far." The thudding stops, and she just exhales slowly. "But I figure since both dragons and people are sentient beings they should rank at least equally, or at least that's what I've been taught to respect, and the same line of thought that's kept me out of trouble." She pads over to the bench to grab her shoes and the towel and canteen, kicking each on and stretching for a minute. "People believe what they like." Comes finally as she preps to leave. "Hasn't it?" asks A'rist of her values system. But it's a rhetorical question, left at that. He's already hopping up to his feet, and tugging off his shirt. "Guess it depends if believing something makes it real or not. Maybe people want to believe stuff, but if they get down to it, that's not how things go at all." And it's that note he'll seem to leave as farewell, because in comes R'sig, with his big forehead and bigger shoulders. Edyis just gets a stare. A'rist gets a stare. And R'sig strips shirt and boots and generally leaves no chance for misunderstanding that sparring starts now. |
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