Logs:Not Going Anywhere
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| RL Date: 12 March, 2016 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Lys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lovers discuss recent and impending events on a rainy afternoon. |
| Where: Glitter and Glass Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 4, Turn 40 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: C'ris/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, G'chet/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jounine/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, S'rin/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
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| With even Telgar stretching hopefully into spring, the northern regions are steadily warming as spring-like days turn into sevens, making travel more pleasant if one avoids the mud that inevitably comes with rain in lieu of snow. Jocelyn can no longer put off rounding out her wardrobe with formal attire for the warmer months - but this second trip to Boll is surprisingly pleasant with the prospect of Lys accompanying. Weaver journeyman Kaplin works his magic efficiently enough with the fiery-haired goldrider a second time that he earns a healthy tip, which frees Jocelyn up to enjoy the next few hours shopping with her favorite lady, demeanor appropriately enthused for pretty accessories and fabric colors here and there which she thinks will especially favor Evyth's. While the skies are clear enough at Boll, it's raining by the time they return to High Reaches, and the weyrwoman is quick to dismount and duck into the shelter of Lys's weyr, grumbling good-naturedly while going in search of a towel. Aidavanth, meanwhile, departs for her own wallow, but radiates a warm cheer back to her sibling the entire way. It's been a good day, thus far, hasn't it? Lys isn't important enough, now, to have clothes made especially for her, but while Jocelyn spent her time with the Journeyman, Lys came and went to check the progress and offer opinions as wanted, but also spent some time where there are some pre-made items for purchase. In the end, whatever it was she bought must have been tucked away before she re-joined the goldrider for her freed up hours to do more of joint shopping and beach time (one mustn't forget the alluring proximity of the Hall to sandy paradise). Lys' habit is often to wholly ignore the surly goldrider's grumps, or, as now, deposit a kiss on her cheek in passing. By now, surely Jocelyn knows where Lys tends to keep things, relatively organized and relatively predictable as her home tends to be, not that that keeps the occasional bit of dirty laundry from ending up on the floor. Lys has a few things to do to get Evyth settled without her straps and so on, but she's back soon enough to unpack a small box of pastries that will do no part of them (except their mouths) any good, topped with the more tropical fruits which are ripe in Boll now. This might pass for dinner. The blonde is humming something tuneful as she moves through her space to fetch a skin of (cheap) wine to go with the pastries. "I told you you wouldn't hate weaver if you went with me," comes as she's pouring two glasses, her tone teasing, blue-green gaze falling to the redhead and prompting a widening of her smile. Kisses in passing from Lys go a long way toward mollifying Jocelyn's surliness, so there's a smile in return for her once she can run a towel through her hair, tugged free of its clips to hang damply around her face. "I should have just taken you with me the first time, " comes her serious response, followed by a lift of eyebrows as she peers toward the pastries and wine. As she settles on the greenrider's couch, there's an undeniably pleased, "Those will put our pastries to shame at the moment, " as eyes more blue than gray lift to Lys's again, glittering. "Live and learn," comes lightness in answer to Jocelyn's seriousness as often it does. "You'll know better in future." The greenrider grins at the gold before comfortably settling in beside and against her and Lys hands over a glass. "You think?" comes, still amused. Less amused, and more wheedling is the last, "And you said you'd tell me the latest about your transition from weyrling to weyrwoman," a topic no doubt avoided previously because of the marked work-y content of it. "I don't just think, I know they will, " Jocelyn corrects, amused. The arm closest to Lys tucks itself comfortably about the blonde, leaving her other hand free to take the glass of wine with a murmured thank-you and an endearment. The fondness in her voice warms her expression as she leans her head over to press a kiss to Lys's cheek, mouth settling into a thoughtful line afterward. "I did, didn't I." A pause, then: "I can't remember if I told you, but I asked Jounine for some advice in choosing my first assistant. She had some good suggestions, and several potential candidates. I'm going to talk with them, " much in the way that someone would say, 'I really, really ought to'; apparently, her reluctance to follow through on the hiring process has prevented those conversations from yet occurring. "That's certainly going to be a change." Her gaze slides briefly to her more complex shoulderknot, the curve of her mouth lifting a fraction. "I can't say that I'm enjoying working for Farideh. Working with her was preferable before she decided I'm too - " There's a one-shouldered shrug to fill in the blank, and she lifts her glass to her lips for a moment. "But things are, overall, much the same as they were the last time you asked me to talk about the transition, not wholly different from our last couple of months as weyrlings. Now that you've been in your new wing for a while, do you still feel the same about it as you did upon learning you were selected to fly with them?" "You mentioned, I think," about the new assistant, but obviously in less depth than is now being mentioned. "I'm glad Jounine could help you out. Not everyone can be so lucky as Irianke and find a me." There's a lifting lilt of humor there and Lys is leaning in to kiss lightly just below her ear. She doesn't linger overly long. "What will you be looking for with them?" she asks as she straightens and brings her wine to her lips. She speaks of the matter so casually that she's either oblivious to Jocelyn's 'really really ought' or she's so supportive of it that she uses her casualness to indicate that 'really really ought' is a foregone confusion not worth speaking of. There are a few more sips before she addresses Farideh. "I think I could probably name the number of people you enjoy working for on one hand and even then, I bet it took time to adjust to working for Jounine when she stepped up," Lys observes thoughtfully and reaches for a pastry. "Maybe give it time. Maybe you'll get back to a place with her where you can be working together. It would probably be better for the long-term if you did it before Irianke came back and it wasn't because Irianke came back and had to play mother." It's not meant to be harsh, but the greenrider is still fairly frank (and a little insensitive, sometimes, even to those she cares deeply for). "Me in a minute," is not an uncommon way for the greenrider to decide to address one topic at a time. It promises answers, but doesn't allow for distraction. Jocelyn's small smile can likely be felt during that brief kiss; certainly, it's there in her face when Lys pulls away. "Irianke was fortunate to find you, " she says with a little lift of her chin, "but I like to think that I'm the luckier for having found you, love." That content look sobers in the wake of the greenrider's question, focused despite the way her gaze turns absently to the cup in her hand. "Someone discreet, sharp, perceptive, quick to think and able to act without being told." Drily, "I don't want to be fawned over, and I don't want someone who thinks their job is to do my hair and choose my clothing for me. She can't be afraid of me at every turn, not with that close of a working proximity." The roll of her eyes is audible enough, for all that the physical motion is quick. Of working for Jounine, "It was an adjustment. I - wanted her job, and she knew it. I was sore over her promotion for longer than I care to admit." There's a considering glance for Lys's advice on improving relations with Farideh, a thoughtful noise made in response. "Some people might thrive best with some mothering, " she says evenly after a few moments. "Faranth knows I don't, nor can I offer that to someone else. I suspect it'll be easier to recapture some of our more collaborative relationship once Irianke returns and we're back on equal footing as much in her eyes as we've been since my Impression in mine." Blue-gray eyes level a look at the greenrider, even as she, too, reaches over to grab a pastry. "You've had your minute. You, now." "Perhaps," Lys answers the the matter of which goldrider was more fortunate to have found her. As ever, the woman doesn't linger long on things that could quickly turn into something less pleasant - it's probably how she's managed living a double-romantic life. "Maybe you should be looking for someone just like you. Do any of them have a reputation? You can always work on rough edges as you go along, but..." There's some amusement at the idea of a Jocelyn 2.0. "I don't mind Irianke's brand of mothering, but something tells me she'd put the both of you through unpleasant paces in faster than a blink if she felt there was a lesson you needed to learn." It might be an educated guess. "Sometimes it takes a little bit of surrender to end up victorious in the end. It might help to try to... gracefully work for Farideh for now, if you can." She must know that sort of thing is easier said than done. But now her. "I'm still getting used to everything. I was never very close to S'rin, so I don't know if he's had the same adjustment period. In a way, it's sort of nice to be on my own - sink or swim. I like G'chet well enough. He's nice. Seems the sort to take the time if I ever needed something from him. Evyth's in love, of course." Of course. New friends! There can be only one. And maybe that's why Jocelyn stares at Lys for a long moment after her suggestion, lips twitching on the tail end of a sniff. "Don't be silly. Someone just like me; the very notion. I doubt that would go swimmingly, regardless of our united efficiency." The prospect of being set to an unpleasant lesson by Irianke elicits a grimace, as does the concept of working gracefully. Still, she'll admit, "You might be right." But hearing about Lys's adjustment seems to hold more appeal, for the transition from grudging acceptance to attentive listening passes swiftly. There's a genuine smile, then, when the other rider's finished speaking. "Evyth's thrilled, and you're not running into hiccups. I'm pleased for you." Lys can't help her smile for Jocelyn's answer to her idea, so deeply amused by the thought of it. She doesn't touch back on the matters of goldriders, not just now. Instead she shifts a little. "I'm feeling good, really. Strangely, it feels a little like I've found what I'm supposed to be doing. I mean, I thought maybe it would turn out that way in weyrlinghood, but you never really know until you're in it and doing it." She gives a little shrug. "I think Equinox will turn out well, once Frostbite settles in. It's sort of exciting to be witnessing all the transition, and the little dramas." Notably, watching but not participating in, it seems. "I think I understand, " says Jocelyn at some length, studying Lys with a softer look during her account. "I don't want to say 'Impression gave me a purpose' because that would imply I lacked any beforehand, but there's a clarity to my sense of duty now that wasn't quite there previously." Her still-present smile twitches, turns wry for witnessing the little dramas that arise with change. "I imagine it probably is, for you. You'd feel quite differently if you were in the middle of the rumor mill's fodder." "Impression gave me a purpose," Lys replies with humor. She can say that, and safely. "I'm sure I'd feel differently if I were in the middle of the rumor mill's fodder, but fortunately I'm just an unnoticeable greenrider, barely out of weyrlinghood. I'm thoroughly uninteresting. From the outside, I'm sure I seem perfectly plain, and improved even, with Evyth's influence and yours and-" well, his, but she stops short, shrugging her shoulders, "In any case, there are far more interesting things to talk about these days than me. Like Quinlys' new baby. Did you hear the name? It could be mine. Terrible," she tells her girlfriend deadpan. Jocelyn looks as if she'd like to wag a finger, but has to settle instead for wiggling her wine glass for emphasis. "Hardly unnoticeable, and quite interesting, I'll have you know. And you'll be impossible for a lot of people to ignore when Evyth goes up for the first time, naturally." It's light enough, even if it's tinged with something faintly rueful by the end. "Quinlys's baby, " she repeats then, wrinkling her nose. "I never supposed those two words would end up next to one another in a sentence. Lyssie or something like that, isn't it? At least they didn't name her - I don't know, Quincy." "To you, maybe," Lys concedes, smiling at the goldrider. "Hm, I suppose that's true of most greenriders when their lifemates are proddy, but only time will tell." Evyth's time hasn't come yet. Perhaps maybe it never will! Lys might be well pleased by that scenario, but she's always seemed accepting of the eventuality. "I didn't really suppose it would either. But I guess things happen. I mean, I guess she must feel something for C'ris? Or maybe she's just a team player, concerned for the population and all that," the greenrider muses before leaning to set her cup aside. "Lyrisa. Given that I used to be called Lya, it's disturbingly too much like for my imagination. I'd rather not have Mivength catch Evyth, no offense to C'ris. But I'd rather she only be caught by completely impotent riders if I have my way. Nothing to worry about then." Even if, when the time comes, Lys is sure to be extra, very, very, very careful about everything. "Quincy would be rather terrible for a girl, but at least there'd be no mistaking her for mine." Not that there will be anyway, given the way Lys looks, the way Quinlys looks, and the way C'ris looks. "You'll be the most beautiful woman any of them have ever seen, " Jocelyn says staunchly, "and I'll - " Be sorry that her lifemate isn't male for a few minutes? It's written on her face for a moment, before she finishes, somewhat lamely, " - be there for you afterward, if you need a - a friend." There's a little smile that plays briefly at her mouth. "If you figure out how to be selective about getting impotent riders' dragons to catch, do share your discovery before Aidavanth takes it into her head to try such a thing." It's an almost awkward hesitation that follows. "Irianke said it was best to borrow someone else's dragon for a slightly longer than usual skip between the day after Aidavanth flies. Right now, I'd prefer it be you and Evyth to take me when I need it, if you can." "I think it has very little to do with how beautiful I am and everything to do with every last one of them taking note of Evyth," Lys won't be swayed, but she will laugh about it before polishing off the contents of her glass and setting it back down. "I'm not sure I'll get any say, and even so I've heard that very old riders can still be a problem, so there's no sure fire way, but if I discover one, I'll be sure to tell you." That comes with a little peck on the lips. For the greenrider, this request isn't an odd thing and she only smiles reassuringly. "Of course. We know how to do it. Tela showed me once." And clearly Tela's had good results, to Lys' knowledge. "Not that anything is completely certain, but." Better to try all the ways to prevent than to forego one and be able to blame oneself for an accident. All of this keeps Lys from having to say that she does it regularly these days because at least one of her lovers could, in theory, beget children with her. "Thank Faranth I have you looking out for me." Jocelyn, with none of the melodrama such a statement could be infused with after that peck on the lips, but she does permit the wryness to be openly writ in her expression. "I wish I would know how to know, " she confides after a few more sips. "Aidavanth. I don't like the unpredictability of the first time. I have to hope she'll give me enough notice to make sure all the proper precautions are able to be taken." Shifting uncomfortably, she leans forward to deposit her glass on the table, too, all the better to turn herself more toward Lys and reach to cup the other's cheek with a palm. "You could drink the tea anyway," Lys suggests with a little lift of her brows, tilting her face into her lover's palm. "Will you try to use the flight weyr instead of your own?" The greenrider wonders; it does seem to be done, sometimes. Her brows furrow a little, "I could try to be there. If you wanted. In the weyr, I mean. But people would--" notice. They would definitely notice if Lys shows up to a goldflight in the weyr with the chasers. She's frowning a little. Certainly at least one bronzerider, if he's in attendance, would take particular note. Jocelyn makes a face; the tea. "Between is easier and lacks the aftertaste, " she dismisses, gaze distancing for a moment while she gives her girlfriend's thoughts due consideration, a thumb absently stroking the cheek in her palm. "I don't want all of those - people in my home, " she decides, frowning. "That's - a place for us. The flight weyr would be preferable, certainly, if I have enough wits about me to manage it." She just doesn't know how it's all going to play out just yet, and it's clear that the lack of control over the situation bothers her. "They would notice, wouldn't they." Blue eyes focus back on Lys, soft. "I wish you - I - could win flights, rather than live through them, " she admits, features scrunching into a grimace. "I'd like to think I'd still want to lose myself in you rather than some random rider whose dragon just happens to be fixated on mine. I don't expect to know how to do this on the first try, but I'm going to have to learn how to - assert a choice, somewhere. I don't even know if she'll listen while she's enthralled by what she's feeling, but the ability to choose could be - useful. If it even works." "Better double methods that are chancey either way than skip one because one can't man down a cup daily." Lys replies with an amused look. There's a little shrug of her shoulders for the matter of winning flights. "There's no saying we would win, even if we could win. This is just the way it is for us," is practical. "There are some circumstances in life that are worth fighting to change, this definitely isn't one of them." She contemplates the rest for a moment before saying, "You might ask Irianke when she comes back, about asserting choice. I hear they train their juniors at Igen to be caught by browns and to have worse flights. I don't know if that was after her time there or not." Then there's a very defined pause as the greenrider considers something and with slightly tightened lips, she adds, "If you speak with her about Igen, be judicious." It doesn't sound, really, as if the woman who was once one of Irianke's assistants and once, before that, Irianke's only assistant, is going to say more. "I know that, of course, " Jocelyn grouses, hand sliding from Lys's face so that she can pinch the bridge of her nose. "I just - " A pause, then, clipped: "Never mind." Does she look a little embarrassed? If she does, it's overwritten soon enough with an expression that's increasingly inscrutable the farther the greenrider gets into her advice on consulting Irianke. "Probably best if I don't, then, " she says evenly, of speaking about Igen. With her arms withdrawn to her own person, the redhead fluidly gets to her feet, if not to leave, then to cross the room to neatly, so neatly, fold that towel she borrowed. The change of tone is noted (of course it is) from bad to worse. Lys gives Jocelyn a moment before she rises and crosses to come up behind her and gently place her hands on the redhead's upper arms, a light touch that isn't a hug but holds all the support of one. "What happened just then?" It a quiet question, spoken by one who wants to understand. Jocelyn treats that towel like a tablecloth that's used for visiting dignitaries, smoothing creases and separating spare bits of lint that are threatening to detach in due time. "You know I don't do - overly sentimental well, " much in the same way that another might have said, 'I was just being silly, don't mind me.' It's not really an answer, but the set of her shoulders suggests that a better one isn't forthcoming. Practically, even lightly, "You're right, of course. There's no sense in wishing that things were different when there's no means available by which to make them into more ideal circumstances." Once the towel is neatened to within a thread of its remaining life, she turns finally, features creased into something weary. "I'll find someone else to ask, about the assertion idea. Or research it as best I can. I don't need to end up inadvertently throwing wedges between myself and both of the other queenriders, " rather than the one relationship that's already strained, "one of whom has all the capability of bargaining me away to Monaco when she returns if she wishes." She's uncomfortable, and it shows now in her eyes, in the way she holds herself, in the way she looks slightly past Lys toward the ledge. Lys is silent and still as the goldrider explains. There's something odd in the set of the blonde's features, neither good nor bad, but a slight spread and press of her lips. She waits until Jocelyn's finished before she reaches her fingers to curl around the redhead's. "I never said you ought to be sentimental. Just judicious. Choose your questions with care and don't linger overly long. You're an intelligent woman, Joce, and you don't give yourself enough credit for being able to use tact when you try." Clearly Lys has this much faith in her. "But enough work talk. You're not going anywhere." Now or to Monaco. Instead, Lys is drawing up first one hand to kiss her knuckles, and then the other, blue-green eyes look over the tops in a way that promises better distractions to come. "I want to show you what I bought." The look she gives her lover goes beyond mischief to pure wickedness for a moment before she moves to do just that. Something in Lys's response elicits a short laugh from Jocelyn, whose fingers still curl instinctively around the younger woman's in return. "Sweetheart, " she says tiredly, "I wouldn't use sentiment where Irianke is concerned. I was trying to be sentimental to you. Winning with each other is impossible, but I - thought you'd like knowing that I'd - be happy in some other reality if it were possible for us to do so." But then there are the kisses to her knuckles, the distracting look that follows, and despite herself, the redhead can't help the way her face colors or the little gleam that sparks to life in blue-gray eyes as those pretty purchases see the light of day. "I don't care if you chose that one on top with me in mind or someone else. That's - put that on. Come here." A pause, then: "Please." It's both a plea and a promise. |
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