Logs:Nothing's Perfect
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| RL Date: 15 June, 2015 |
| Who: K'del, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and Yesia talk about leadership and happiness. |
| Where: Riders' Lounge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| It's the time of day where the weyrlings break, back to their free time and now their privacy, and despite private weyrs Yesia is here in the lounge. It's soon enough after the wing scattered that the young greenrider must have come post-haste, and she's already got a glass of not-amazing wine in her hand as she stands at the far end of the bar, leaning forward and squinting at the mural on the back wall. She purses her lips, sips, rocks back on her heels and then leans forward a little closer, like she's looking for something. Taiga's been drilling, this afternoon, and not long after Yesia arrives a whole group of them troop into the lounge, loud and enthusiastic about their afternoon's efforts. They keep to themselves, at least, setting out cards for a somewhat raucous game-- and K'del, excusing himself, finds himself ambling towards Yesia instead. "Missing something?" he wonders, as he draws up alongside her. Yesia dares a look back at the incoming riders, deems them at least unworthy of extra attention, and has turned back by the time K'del arrives. "Sir," she murmurs as a greeting, with a quick little salute that kind of includes her wine. But wine is important. "No, not exactly. I was just looking for people we know." Her huff of laughter is small and low, like it's the silliest prospect. "Someone mentioned they had found their dragon in here. I thought they were full of it," she adds, with a definitiveness that says they were. "Everyone likes to claim their dragon is up there," says K'del, with a laugh. "If Cadejoth is, I've never noticed him... but then, I've never looked. Properly, anyway." He's got a glass of (terrible) whiskey in hand, and doesn't even try to salute with it, though his nod confirms Yesia's cheerfully enough. "How's it all going, Yesia?" The way Yesia's face shifts suggests she's not entirely pleased with that answer, like maybe being right, in this case, was not what she wanted. "There's something nice about thinking your dragon might be up there, always a part of this place. Ah, well. Who would be able to update it all the time, anyways? It would start looking like a kaleidoscope up there, too many colors." With that, she turns away from the wall, giving K'del that bright and easy smile that she reserves for people she doesn't despise. "I think I'm doing well. Well enough that I am allowed to be wingsecond." Is that bitterness? No, certainly not. "I like to think that if you want to see your dragon there, maybe you'll be able to," answers K'del, lingering on that topic just for a few moments longer, though he's plainly aware that Yesia is done with it. He shifts as she does, his own smile warm and bright enough, half-hidden as he raises his glass for a sip. "Congratulations," he says, easily. And then: "When I was a weyrling, I not only expected to be first weyrling wingleader, but also a silver thread... and then I got neither." "I think it's a joke, really. Not the weyrling program," she's quick to add, "just...wingsecond? It's like Quinlys telling me, 'congratulations, you came in second place!' I didn't want any of it, not really. I'm fine with being a rider." She wrinkles her pert little nose, but it's brief in leiu of another sly little smile, amused while she studies him, trying to detect a lie. "Really? But..." a thoughtful trailing off, "You have Cadejoth. You don't have to be a great leader if he's a good chaser. It's different, if you're...green or blue or brown." K'del considers Yesia's words for a few moments. "Then," he says, "prove that you're better than-- whomever your wingleader is. Prove she made the wrong decision." He gestures with his glass, although it's a gesture that doesn't necessarily seem to make much sense. "Or just do what you have to and go back to being a normal rider, afterwards." He pauses, taking a sip. "It is different. Get that. But I... was desperate to prove myself. Weyrleader wasn't really in my immediate plans, but in the short-term I wanted to... be someone. Be acknowledged. As on the path to greatness, I guess." Given his faint flush, this is a little embarrassing in retrospect. "Well, those are barely options. If I just do the minimum, she's proven herself and everyone else right. It's a trap." It makes her decision very clear, even if she's frowning a little, like she's only just sussed this out entirely. Of his youth, she says, "The people who want it the most are the ones you should be careful of." She sounds like she's reciting that from somewhere, though it's unlikely to be something in her lesson. Maybe it's just something she overheard, once. "So. You ended up on the short path. Was it too much? Is it? Weyrleader and leading Taiga. You're someone, now. You're one of the main somones on Pern." K'del drops his gaze towards his glass, considering it rather than the greenrider for a few long moments. "Most things in life are a trap," is what he says, finally. "In one way or another. Cadejoth catching Iovniath when I was seventeen was a trap; definitely got noticed, became someone, but at what cost? Wasn't the right person for the job, then. Like to think I do a good job, now, but... it's a balancing act, too. You make sacrifices. I'd see my kids a whole lot more without it. I'd probably sleep better, too." Now, idly, his gaze meanders back towards Yesia. "Sometimes, winning and losing are pretty close to the same." Yesia tilts her head as she listens, catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth and just watching, listening. His confessions don't startle her, not exactly, but they're not what history teaches; history, after all, is written by victors. And here the victor is saying it was not perfect, so there's something to chew on, to swallow. She lets a silence hang for a stretch, taking a drink that nearly drains her glass. "You could always stop, couldn't you? Riders retire all the time. People step down from their positions. Even the Headwoman..." a vague wave, because that was barely a blip on her radar. "If it doesn't make you happy, why continue? The world carries on anyways." "Because nothing ends up being perfect." K'del's mouth twists for that, though it is, in the end, more rueful than disgruntled. "There are downsides to being Weyrleader. There are times when it sucks more than I can imagine. But I also like the job, and... I love this Weyr. I feel responsible for High Reaches. Did quit, once. After my weyrmate was murdered. Nearly killed me, later on, as I had to watch other people fumbling over things; do things differently to how I would. It gets into your blood, somehow." Yesia's eyebrows creep up, up, and she eventually just shrugs a little. "That seems like a good reason to stay far from leading a weyr, then," comes her eventual determination. Her expression is critical. "I thought when I came here that I wanted a gold. I thought it would be amazing, a goldrider, a shiny beautiful gold dragon but -- " she gestures, as if he's laid something between them -- "a goldrider can't even step down entirely. And, apparently, neither can you, without going crazy." She shrugs a little, one shouldered. "It still doesn't sound like it makes you happy. Just that you feel obligatied. So much work." For all of that, K'del smiles, wry and rueful, but also amused. "Mmm," he agrees. "Maybe. Not sure that anyone who leads a place is completely... sane. Don't think I'd want my daughters to Impress gold; it changes everything. At least a bronzerider can avoid senior flights, if he chooses to." He gives his drink another glance, then takes another sip. "I do like it, though. I like being involved. I like the challenge of it. It's just... having made that choice, I've had to sacrifice other things. There's every chance I'll lose the knot when one of the queens rises; at that point, I'll have to work something else out. Stay here, transfer to Southern to be with my family... I don't know. Have you thought much about the future? Graduation?" Yesia has a laugh, then, shaking her head. "I wonder if we just have to be crazy to Stand, and it's all downhill from there." It must have crossed her mind that he might not catch in the next flight, but even so her brow wrinkles and an unpleasant little depression appears vertically right above her nose. No overt commentary, for once; her expression says enough, as it were. "You'd see your kids, in that case. And your..." What is Ali, anyways? She shrugs, waving in a gesture that segues to a reach for the wine bottle she's nicked. "Some," is her elusive response about her future, filling her glass halfway again. "I try not to. I had this letter of intent written to transfer to Igen -- I wanted to go so badly, but someone told me...well. It might not be better in Igen, but I'm not sure I share your love of this place, either. Or it's people. I can only hope getting away from this class will help, since my deadline is long past." "There's an element of that. You Stand and... after that, you don't have complete control anymore." Beat. "If you ever did." It's a somewhat maudlin point to the conversation, and K'del drops his gaze towards his glass again, as if to force himself to move on from there; he sips, swallows, and then gives Yesia long, considering glance. "Lots of people find it easier, post-weyrlinghood. There's this... idea, that your clutchmates are supposed to be your best friends; that you're supposed to be close. Doesn't always happen that way, not for everyone. You might find it easier to find a place for yourself, afterwards." "I feel like I did," Yesia says after a moment. "I wasn't in a craft and I didn't have a marriage in the works. I mean, I got up and just left when I was Searched, and nobody could object or have any more control than me over it. And Aeaeth, I love her so much. But then I got here." She pauses, her expression darkening. "I despise them," the greenrider all but spits, reining in her tone immediately after. She listens to his case and says, "Or, it could be just as bad, or worse. Nothing's perfect, you said so yourself." K'del is, plainly, a little taken-aback by the vehemence of Yesia's feelings with regards to her clutchmates, though surely he's aware of some of the tensions. Mildly, he says, "Mm. Sure, it could be just as bad. Or worse. The thing is... well, if it is regularly that bad or worse, you have to pay attention to your own part in it: why is it so bad? And what can you do to improve it. Joining a wing can be a bit like a fresh slate; they'll let you start again. Sometimes, that's useful." He drains his glass, glancing back at his wingmates. "Ought to get back to them. But... look after yourself, Yesia. Okay? Chin up." Yesia's mouth twists to the side in a frown, because that is the second time someone has said that, and K'del at least has opinions she respects. "I --" she starts, almost a protest, then sighs, "Of course. Have a good night." She puts on another smile, this one not as easy as the others, and lifts her glass to acknowledge his departure. "Good night, sir." "Good night, Yesia," says K'del, before he's lost to his wingmates, and their cards. |
Comments
Edyis (03:54, 16 June 2015 (EDT)) said...
I loved this, the discussion of winning and losing sometimes being equal, and just a teeny bit that someone got the point of the mural. Even if it was Yesia XD
Alida (05:25, 16 June 2015 (EDT)) said...
- Ilicaeth wiggles his non-existent brows* « I am immortalized. » ;D
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