Logs:A Good Reason to Stand
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| RL Date: 2 October, 2015 |
| Who: Drex, Serin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Drex has questions for High Reaches' newest candidate. |
| Where: Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 12, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
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Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub
of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's
staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well
back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before
the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or
just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters
throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain
wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish,
though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the
table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the
glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled
scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness
of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private
quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from
drafts. The day after Roszadyth's clutching is full of snow, the crisp, cold air no doubt leading to many preferring to spend their evening indoors in the warmth. The common lounge has a scattering of occupants, one of which is Drex, having claimed the much-valued space by the hearth, playing with a rather sleek looking feline. Candidates have started to trickle in, Serin being one of them who's headed in from the direction of the barracks. Seems whatever he was doing warranted a bath, so he is wearing clean clothes and tugs at his shirt. His hair is still wet, but since he's not planning on going outside for a while it shouldn't be an issue however the hearth is where he's headed for when he notes the feline and the person playing with it. "Room for one more?" He wonders. The not-quite-shrug -- more a twitch of shoulder -- seems to be sufficient answer from Drex, given there's no negative, at least. "She has first preference on whatever seat she wants," Drex finally says, but otherwise seems to wave easily towards a chair. He's wearing comfortably worn looking clothing, though the shirt's looking a bit frayed at the edges. His fingers twitch, and the feline pounces on them, before retreating, peering around the corner of the chair at Serin. Presumably, the feline is the she in question. Even before the answer is given, Serin is headed for the empty seat with the presumption that it'll be alright. Rude, perhaps, but it usually works out alright for him. He's not exactly dressed well himself, comfort is the key and he's wearing loose clothes that are dark in comparison with his lighter colouring. "Mhm, alright." He agrees, pulling a comb out of his pocket and sitting down on the chair to look at the fire while he tugs the comb through his hair. The action of the feline pouncing on the fingers draws his attention, though, and he gives Drex more of a look over before commenting. "Don't think I know you." Drex is certainly the last person to be worried about perceived rudeness, and in fact seems unaware of it at all. "Don't know you either," the sailor retorts, quickly, while the feline disappears and there's sounds of scrabbling from somewhere at the back of Serin's chair. "Serin." Is the offer of his name, before he adds, "Starcraft Apprentice, and Candidate for now." He sure sounds like he's from here, no accent to be found in his voice if one's used to Reachian accents. The disappearance of the feline is eyed, though he doesn't think much of it until there's scrabbling sounds behind his chair and he twists to try and get a look. In contrast, Drex's accent and indeed, his elocution are rather more eclectic. "Drex," he replies in turn, though isn't quite so forthcoming about his own position at the Weyr. "Candidate, huh?" He gives a brief snort, as if dismissive. Meanwhile, the feline's clawed her way up the back of Serin's chair, wide, black pupils staring at Serin as he twists to look. "Something wrong with that?" Serin wonders, though his gaze stays on the feline that's climbed up the back of his chair. So far, however, he decides to stay seated rather than letting the animal scare him off. "Shards, felines are so weird." He gives the cat a glower. "You got any idea what you actually volunteering for," Drex responds to Serin, "Or just been listening to all those tales about glory and heroism and shit?" The cat, now that she's gained the high ground, casually licks a paw and looks unmoved by said glare. "Think I'm an idiot?" Serin asks, and as the feline starts licking her paw, he turns around to settle back into the chair without disturbing the animal - at least, trying not to and starts running the comb through his hair again. "I know plenty of riders, I'm aware of what they do. I'm not exactly the 'hero' type. I fully expect to just enjoy the experience, and return to my craft afterwards." "Don't know you well enough to guess, yet," Drex replies, gaze flickering to the feline, then back to the crafter, with a snort. "Enjoy, huh?" he shakes his head. "And what if you do impress?" Serin chuckles a little and shrugs, "Yes, enjoy. Have you seen people who've gone through candidacy? They often become long time friends, impression or not. I could use to widen my friendship circle." He rolls his shoulders in response to the last question, "Deal with it, like anything else." "Aye," Drex replies, "And the ones that end up behind get forgotten about," he says, in counterpoint to Serin's assertion. "Seems to me like a stupid reason to stand. To make friends. Might as well take up that... what is that yarn thing aunties do?" his brow furrows, trying to remember. Serin rolls his eyes, "What is a /good/ reason to stand then? To be a hero, the very thing you started with scoffing at?" He leans back into the chair, after tucking the comb away. "Nobody is forcing -you- to do it. So, why be so quick to judge people who make different decisions than you'd make for yourself? Just because I would never be a healer, doesn't mean I sit and belittle them for their choice." "Only reason I can see is because you aint got nothin' else to lose," is Drex's opinion on the matter. "They tried," he adds, with a scoff. "Aint the sort to want a dragon. And it aint like being a healer. You can give that away. You can't give away a dragon if you change yer mind later. Ought to think about it." "Ask any dragonrider if they'd give up their dragon, and I bet you that even though they say it might have moments that it's difficult, and downright hard - they wouldn't." Serin says with a light shrug, propping his hands behind his head and slouching into the chair to enjoy the warmth of the hearth. "Does it mean I'm not worried? Of course I am. I'm perfectly happy as a Starsmith. I wouldn't have asked to stand myself, but since I was asked..." Drex frowns, shaking his head like he can't understand. "If yer perfectly happy as a Starsmith, why give that up?" The feline leaps, unexpectedly, from the back of Serin's chair to the arm, making a trilling sort of noise as she does. Standing, Drex moves over to collect her into his arms. Serin reaches to try and pet the feline before Drex picks her up, but beyond that he seems just as pleased to see the animal go. "Who says I'm 'giving it up'? You think impression is guaranteed? They search FAR more people than can ever impress, and the majority walk off the sands with nothing. You can only be searched until you're so old, so in a way, I might regret if I never tried. Especially if I was asked to stand." He muses, before adding, "It's another thing you can't just wish back. Time." The feline seems happy with the petting, and just as happy being picked up by the sailor. "But you'll have to give it up if you do Impress. Can't imagine giving up somethin' I love for a dragon of all things," Drex says, with a shake of head. It's clearly he can't comprehend Serin's reasoning, and it's apparent that he's giving up. "C'mon, Lady Annoying," he's apparently talking to the feline as he starts across the common room. "You can argue the "what if"s all day, but really it comes down to you. If you don't want to. Then don't. Nobody can force you, and nobody can give you /your/ reason for standing." Serin says, lifting a hand to wave, but sinking back into the chair with a sigh as he draws his legs up into it and get comfortable. |
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