Logs:Not Yet
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| RL Date: 22 December, 2015 |
| Who: Dahlia, Mirinda |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dahlia and Mirinda talk about decisions that may come in the future of Fort. |
| Where: Galleries, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 8, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Blume/Mentions, Kyouri/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions |
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>---< Galleries, Fort Weyr(#745RIJMas$) >------------------------------------<
The entrance to the Sands and Galleries alike is little more than an
archway and a section of flat stone that curves into a broad pathway in
front of the Galleries that are carved into the right-hand side of the
Hatching Cavern. This pathway is set with three flights of stairs that
lead all the way up to the upper tiers of the Galleries; one set near the
entrance of the cavern, one set at the northernmost end, and one set
between both. Beyond the pathway, that flat stone dissolves into the Sands
proper, a golden expanse that sits before the large, odd engraving that
lines the far wall -- an etching that details the rotation of the Red
Star.
The Galleries themselves are rows of flat seats carved from the stone wall
and stacked backward to allow observers the best view possible of the
golden sands. Those at the bottom are protected from wayward dragonets by
a railing, while dignitaries from outside the Weyr -- Lord Holders, other
Weyrleaders, Craftmasters and their ilk -- have a specially designated
spectator's box at the topmost row.
When there are eggs on the Sands, type +list/eggs to see the whole clutch
or +view/egg <#> to see an individual egg.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Dahlia F 18 5'9" sturdy, dk. brown hair, hazel eyes 0s
Mirinda F 30 5'5" slender, black hair, brown eyes 2s Zaisavyth, as previously established, is a sometimes (oftentimes) demanding dragon-- and this is truest of all when she has a clutch to mind. Oh, it's all very well to be the centre of attention, with people stopping by at all times of the day to watch one (and one's inanimate offspring)... but it's also boring. And so, since her queen took to the sands, Mirinda has been more often than not found on the sands, or within the galleries. At least she enjoys the warm; for the first time since she arrived at Fort, Mirinda seems comfortable with the climate, having abandoned her usual layers to sit in a simple sundress, fussing over one of Blume's reports in the front row of the galleries. "Hush, Zai," she says, absently. "Vhaeryth will be back soon." It's a first for Zaisavyth and Mirinda on these sands, but so too is it a first for Dahlia to be working to cover down for a senior whose obligations to her dragon take precedence to even much of the important work on-going at Fort. Dahlia's far from perfect, but she is dedicated and, unlike her lifemate, holds no ill-will for the clutch on the sands. Taeliyth has been kept well away from the hatching cavern at all times, and Dahlia herself has yet to visit, though that's possibly equal parts a deference to her lifemate's feelings and the work that keeps her occupied elsewhere, but now there's evidently some matter that needs Mirinda's attention but is more important than something that can be brought by a scribe. She comes with papers, a smile and a pair of cool drinks (it's a bit of a load, but Dee manages well). There's a pause in her path to admire the eggs, of course, and then a friendly, "Mirinda," as she moves to join her superior in the front row. "Dee," is cheerful and warm, despite the obvious exhaustion that shadows Mirinda's face. The weyrwoman sets down the report she's been reading and takes a moment to roll her shoulders back, stretching muscles that have tensed as she sits, warm air or no warm air. "I meant to drop in and see how everything was going this morning, but..." But Zaisavyth was displeased about the meal brought to her, and the morning has been correspondingly complex. "How are things?" "Busy," Dee answers with the kind of smile that indicates the private joke it is. When isn't it? It's the non-answer that replaces 'fine' among leadership. She settles herself and the papers off to one side, nothing urgent then - just sensitive. She offers the Weyrwoman one of the mugs. "Things are alright," is a real answer, "Nothing too ridiculous," there's always something though. Even if it's just a gold and her breakfast. "I don't think I've said, and Taeliyth is asleep now, so she'll never know if I do-- congratulations on the clutch." She looks to the eggs again. "Busy," echoes Mirinda, and hers is with a cheerful little laugh, the kind that both acknowledges and dismisses the validity of that response. "Thank you," is genuine. "I'll make sure Zai doesn't-- I am sorry about when she was clutching. I didn't realise quite how... she was never like that with Evielth, and for the most part, she largely saw Torith as beneath her notice, I think." The apology is blurted out in a rush, one word tumbling out after another. "And me, about Taeliyth." Dahlia sighs, the apology genuine. "She was good with Elaruth, close with Eliyaveith, even. I think... it's harder for her to adjust to the idea that she isn't, now, ultimately responsible for all these minds and-- She cares so much about this place, it's not easy for her to trust--" an outsider. She winces. "I'm working on her, still." Trying. "But she's stubborn." So stubborn. "I don't think she'll bother them," Zaisavyth and Vhaeryth, "but if she starts to, let me know." She'll do what she can. Mirinda shakes her head, firmly, as she adjusts the mug (the one she really did take) within her hands. "It's understandable," she says. "I know it's... difficult for a lot of people, and dragons do tend to be more... connected. At least your Taeliyth has shown no signs of rising; there'll be no need for them to share the sands, and that is a relief." Dark eyes turn back towards her queen, and those eggs that she is so-carefully turning upon the sands. "We'll do our best, that's all." "Yeah," Dahlia agrees, but grimaces, "For now. This time." Who can say what might happen next time? "I'm... not sad that she didn't clutch a gold. I really rather hope Taeliyth won't when she does rise. If it's just the two of us... we have time to figure out what's best." It's an awkward mention, but perhaps Dahlia doesn't know how to approach the topic, even with her now-friend. Mirinda's hesitation, and the way she focuses so intently upon the clutch rather than on Dahlia, suggests this is a topic she's thought about perhaps too much, in her own time. "I'd hoped she might," admits the weyrwoman, after a moment's beat. "Though if she had, it would have been my intention to consider trading the new goldrider back to Monaco." Her lips press together, lingering there for a few seconds before she adds, "I do agree that... that it may be simpler, if it's just the two of us for the moment." Beat. "I've never trained a goldrider. The only queen hatched at Monaco since Zaisavyth..." went to High Reaches. Dahlia is silent some moments, some long moments, and she clear her throat a little and takes a little sip of her drink before she asks quietly, carefully, "Are your intentions different from what they were when we met?" That first time. "No," says Mirinda, surprised. This time she does glance back at Dahlia. "I promised, didn't I?" "You did," Dahlia acknowledges, "But things change. Places become home. People become important." Her expression is tight. "You're my friend, Mirinda," and that might be the first time it's acknowledged in just that way, "and I want you to be happy, but Taeliyth..." She swallows. Can Mirinda guess what it's like to live daily with a queen who's miserable deep down? Mirinda's silence lasts for several long, long seconds; her shoulders have gone stiff, her posture rigid. "What," she says, "Exactly, are you trying to tell me, Dahlia?" Dahlia sighs softly, leveling her hazel eyes on her Weyrwoman. "I don't know how I would get Taeliyth to make peace with it, but if you want to stay here, with your knot, I won't hold you to your promise." Taeliyth would probably kill her for saying so, but unfortunately for her, she's snoozing through this declaration of friendship. "I talked to N'rov, about what we talked about when I got back from Southern. He's my best-friend, maybe even my only friend other than--" you. She shakes her head a little, "I don't think he took it well. I think he took it like I was going to drive you out." And wasn't she? Wouldn't she? Who knows. Mirinda's mouth opens, a comment there but not yet thought out enough to be put into words. Then, abruptly, a tiny little nod. Bitterly, "I'm sure it would make Olivya very happy to hear that." But for Mirinda? "I have hopes that when Taeliyth has her own clutch, her own stamp upon Fort, it will be easier. But Dahlia... Dee. This isn't something that we need to be deciding now. Right now, Fort needs both of us, and as goldriders, we do our duty: we step up. Later... I don't know what will happen later. I'm not anticipating 'later' to be tomorrow, or next month. Likely not even next turn, if we're being honest. Based on past experience, it could be four turns before Zaisavyth rises again. My point is... when 'later' comes, when all of the laters come, we'll work things out together. You, me... N'rov, too." "Rin," Dahlia returns, expression pained, her eyes lingering on Mirinda's face only a moment before she looks out toward the eggs, the future. "The future can change in a moment. Overnight. Without warning or preparation." It's nothing either of them don't have very personal experiences dealing with. "I just don't want to see our choices get taken away, whatever they end up being, because the future arrives before we're ready for it." There's worry lines across her brow as she looks at the eggs, "A gold egg could change everything." They don't have one yet, it seems, but Taeliyth has yet to fly. It's not that Mirinda disagrees with Dahlia's sentiments, though her expression has turned increasingly, and overwhelmingly, tired as a result of them. Rather, as she focuses her attention upon her queen, she seems determined to say, "You can never prepare for all eventualities, Dee. A gold egg could change everything, but it won't change everything overnight. It's certainly a discussion we'll need to have, the three of us, but not yet. Should I end up stepping down, it would be my intention to do it at a deliberate moment; that, barring disaster, is something we can plan on. For now, though... we have no gold egg to worry about, and I have every hope that things will get easier between our queens once Zaisavyth is off the sands." "No, you can't." Dahlia agrees of preparing for eventualities, tone too controlled, too neutral to not be hurting underneath. "I should get back to work. Blume asked me to drop these papers by since I was coming out. Just a couple more considerations for changing the menus to make our stores stretch, in case the fall harvest is--" She shrugs as she rises, Mirinda already knows the rest. Of the queens there is no comment, nor the rest. Mirinda's confusion is plainly obvious in her expression: she's not missed that neutrality, nor what it implies. "We're going to work it out," is what she says, very quiet. "The three of us. And everything will be easier once Zaisavyth is off the sands." She believes this; perhaps she's forced herself to do it. "Thank you for visiting, Dee. I'll check in with you later this afternoon." There's so much restrained-- contained within Dahlia's expression. "Things always work out somehow, Rin. Just not always the way a person wants." It's quiet, resigned. She looks down to the papers, "Oh, the financial plan for the memorial is on the bottom. I thought you'd like to look it over sooner rather than later." Read: Dahlia hoped she would look it over sooner rather than later. "Very little, in my experience, works out the way we want it to. Sometimes that's for the better, sometimes... not." Mirinda's voice carries the weight of all her turns in it; she's certainly well aware of this truth. "Of course-- I'll have a look at that immediately. Thank you for highlighting it for me." "It's important to me," Dahlia acknowledges of the project, acknowledging the rest only with a nod of her head. "I'll see you this afternoon, then," she adds by way of farewell before she's off with her drink back the way she came and out. At least she can avoid Taeliyth waking to find her in the galleries this way. She never needs to know! |
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