Logs:Equality of Lives
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| RL Date: 24 January, 2016 |
| Who: Edyis, Jocelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edyis's discussion of Nabol and recent events discomfits Jocelyn. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 11, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tevrane/Mentions |
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| It is early in the evening yet, just a little past dinner and Edyis has already claimed one of the chairs by the fire, a dozing green flit spread over the back of the chair occasionally stirring at the arrivals and departures in the night hearth. a notebook lays open in her lap the end of the pencil in hand tapping over the armrest of the chair while a small stack of reports sits nearby. There are a few laundresses tending to the mending in the back of the room, gossiping over one thing or another. Jocelyn has all the appearance of one who's doing her best to avoid large groups of people, given her pause, just at the entrance, to assess how crowded the nighthearth may be just after the dinner hour before she ducks in and aims for one of the empty chairs near the hearth. Carrying a small plate balanced neatly atop a book, she settles gingerly on the edge of the seat, sensibly tucking her reading material into the space between her side and the chair's arm so that she can safely attend to her meal. It's true, what they say about old habits; she spares the gossiping laundresses near the back a distracted glance - and perhaps to their relief, it's a momentary occurrence. There's little change in her expression, save for a twitch at the corners of her mouth, even when her attention settles on Edyis and that pencil tapping. "Edyis, " she greets evenly enough, nod brief. Edyis's eyes fall to the goldrider, a warm smile curling over her lips at the greeting. "Jocelyn," There is a glance to the rest of the cavern and then a faint wrinkling of her brow. "Not a fan of crowds in general, or did something happen?" The former scribe asks softly, adding another line to the notes in her lap. "I confess I've not been as up on the gossip of late." "Have you ever seen me enjoy a crowd?" Jocelyn asks rhetorically, amused despite the frown that crinkles its way briefly over her features. "I'd much prefer to be eating in my weyr, " as she's done often enough this month, "but Aidavanth suggested that I spend some time among others tonight." Her expression smooths after a moment, another glance sliding over the other's belongings, the reports, that firelizard. "You won't be writing reports in here all night, I trust." It's deliberately light, even as she works through another forkful of food. Edyis laughs, warmth seeping in at the corners of her eyes. "True, I don't recall ever seeing you enjoy crowds, and better a natural discomfort than one caused by someone giving you grief I suppose." The reports get an absent look at the question and there is a soft frown that doesn't reach her mouth. "Reading reports, rather than writing. Nabol's making my nose itch with some of the things I've heard. " Lifting a nearby mug to her lips. "Not that there's anything to be done about it, but with the extra work we've been assigned helping to get in tithes and harvests, it's better to know the situation isn't it?" There's a little noise from Jocelyn that could be agreement, or simple consideration as she leans forward to set her plate down on the table, pulling her book toward her so that it can be the recipient of her focus. "It's always good to get the facts, " she replies almost absently, eyebrows lifting faintly once she's found the page where she left off. "What have you heard?" Really, she's the picture of relative disinterest, unless you count the briefly curious look she gives the brownrider afterward. Edyis tilts her head, "Please don't let me stop you from eating, it's hard enough to grab a peaceful meal these days." Edyis notes as she watches the shift of focus pulling one of the reports over. As to the question, there's a pause in the habitual tapping of the pencil. "Lady Nabol secreted herself away while others took the brunt of the plague." There's a pause as though considering the facts. "The Hold system is one that customarily bows to blood, it's part of what you are taught, part of what drives some to seek a better station in life, but even that custom has its limits. It could be argued that as long as people are healthy and happy they could honestly care less about those in power." "You're hardly in control of my appetite, " Jocelyn says pointedly, gray eyes keenly scanning the page before her. "It worked out for Lady Nabol in a way, I suppose. She's alive, " even if others are not, goes unspoken. Still, there's a firmer set to her jaw as she continues reading, a scrunch in her brow that could just as easily be for concentration as for consternation. Her plate isn't quite mostly empty, but what's left is apparently going untouched while her head stays bent, albeit a little stiffly, over her book. "Didn't mean to imply that I was." The brownrider replies with a lift of a shoulder. "Sure she survived, and now she gets to bear the weight of other's resentment for doing so, as an illustration of the fact that not all lives are equal on Pern." Edyis answers softly though her attention, at least, gives the appearance of remaining on the report though the green dozing on the back of the chair wakes and crawls down to coil her tail about the brownrider's neck. "Not that many care for the lives of farmers and the lesser holdings." The last dangles like a hook before a fish. "Were you in her position, would you have followed the same course?" Jocelyn's a silent listener, if indeed she's still paying attention - but surely the way her lips press thin isn't for the content of her book, not when she hasn't turned a page while Edyis is speaking. When her answer finally does come to the other's query, it's with a low thud as the bookcovers are pushed shut. "I'd like to believe that I'd stand with my people and make sure everyone had access to the same level of care, " she says at last, finally turning the full weight of her stare onto the younger woman. "The lives of farmers and lesser holdings, as you put it, are equally important as those who are Blooded. At the same time, someone with the training and care for the place should be protected as much as possible to ensure that local traditions, the way of life, will continue afterward. It's a hard decision. I don't envy her for having had to make it. I don't know that I would have chosen the same thing." There are faint spots of pink in her cheeks, and her eyes are keenly bright when she finishes, uncomfortably getting to her feet. Stiffly, "I feel like I should leave you to your reading. Excuse me." It's an almost-apologetic murmur for the collection of her plate, the way she abruptly moves toward the doorway. Edyis listens, at the goldrider's response. The thudding pencil halting in it's usual momentum, and if there's something approving in her expression at the answer, it's faint and possibly easily missed. There is a nod of acknowledgement for the other woman's departure. Though the brownrider studies the direction in which she departs for some time after, stroking the neck of the green at her throat thoughtfully. |
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