Logs:Waves
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| RL Date: 6 December, 2015 |
| Who: Alida |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Pain is always an option. |
| Where: Alida's Rest and Relaxation Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 6, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Pleasant, clear skies; a temperate night. |
| OOC Notes: The last paragraph is borrowed/quoted from an article I read that had me sighing and nodding my head in agreement. |
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| High Reaches was emerging from the plague shakily, but still standing...unlike Fort. In a way, it was perhaps a small miracle that any region in the North was emerging AT ALL. Alida allowed the summery heat of Ista - with her black sand beaches and balmy, buoying skies - to sink into her pale skin (guarded by coconut-based sunscreen to be sure), warm more than her bikini-clad body. The slow rush of the waves upon the shore, the breeze in the trees farther up the beach, the occasional call of some firelizard, dragon, or even a shipfish were merely extra enchantments to the blonde. She'd *earned* this. She'd aided her own 'people' in the most positive fashion she likely had ever attempted. She'd succeeded. And, most importantly, she'd *survived*...though her (and Ilicaeth's) concerns about getting the virulent illness had always clamored at the back of both their minds. And *now*, she could finally rest a little. Lulled into somnolescence by the tropical kindness all about her, Alida didn't notice the waters beyond her receding...and not returning. Didn't notice the silencing of avian calls, the lack of firelizards twirling about, the faint squeaking click of the dolphin that finally fled. When the wave came, it was over 100 feet tall, and it smashed into the shore - onto Alida - with the force of a planet behind it. Jerking awake in her bed, for a second Alida felt herself breathlessly crushed, drowning...but not by or in the ocean's water. People, places, encounters from the past crashed in on her mind, the feelings they inspired a tsunami of mixed grief, regret, love, hate, and so many other emotions which refused to be denied any longer...now that the latest crisis was overcome. By the time she lurched into Ilicaeth's couch, she was shuddering, sobbing uncontrollably, Alida dragging her light blanket behind her like a homeless waif. A quick collapse of legs deposited her in an ungainly heap over one of the blue's forelegs, which Ilicaeth gently curled and moved towards his own chest to gather his rider close in, the dragon a lighthouse beacon in the sudden storm that raged through his chosen one. For hours, he gave her his special kind hope and silent guidance - something which most Pernese lacked, not being bonded to a dragon - the blue completely silent, aside from the occasional, soft whuff of breath or shift of his hide against fabric and stone. And though his mental baritone remained quiet, he never once ceased his subconscious, unwavering support, and imparted to Alida: The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks. |
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