Logs:A Day's Grace
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| RL Date: 10 July, 2016 |
| Who: Quint, Alysce |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The day after Aidavanth's flight, Quint is sympathetic while Alysce sulks. |
| Where: Nighthearth, HIgh Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 3, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jocelyn/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Olivya/Mentions |
| Alysce has been missing all morning; she hasn't been at the lessons that were assigned to her or teaching any of the classes she was supposed to. She hasn't shown up to report for duty or sought Quint out to talk as she normally does. Or perhaps she did, early this morning, but well--. She's sulking now. Clad in her harper blue, which consists today of an oversized tunic and tailored pants, she has curled up into one of the comfortable chairs here, arms wrapped around herself as she stares at the fire and does absolutely nothing. For the day after a flight, there's a certain leeway given to those that might be a bit tardy the next day. Certainly, no one seeks out Alysce when she misses her classes, and lunchtime passes without a reprimand, but... by afternoon, it's her Journeyman himself that seeks out his apprentice. Quint's back to his normal, pristine, everything-in-its-place look of composure as he leans in the entrance for a moment, eyes lighting on Alysce. "I didn't think," he says, as he strolls closer, "You'd give up that easily. I know the younger class can be a handful at times, but..." he spreads his hands, stepping around where he can see Alysce's expression. There is a subtle tightening to Alysce's jaw as Quint speaks, her brows twitching only slightly towards each other as she stares with more determination into the fire rather than lifting to look towards her Journeyman. That she's sulking is clear in her expression, one that is easy to read; annoyance and hurt and maybe just a dash of boredom all rolled into one. She doesn't even answer right away, letting his words draw out onto a long, awkward silence before she tells him dismissively, "I don't care. They probably didn't care, either." "Of course they care. Where's that annoying apprentice? they asked, We want to pull her hair some more, they cajoled." Quint would have to be blind not to see that his apprentice is sulking, yet his tone remains light as he moves over to lean on the arm of the chair she's curled in. Quietly, he regards her a moment. "What happened?" "You know, a big gold dragon went up in the air to mate? People made jackasses of themselves. Someone threatened to murder me. The usual," Alysce throws back dryly, diverting, before she continues on to accuse, "What happened with you?" "This isn't the first time we've been at the Weyr when a gold's risen," Quint observes, with a tip of his head. "And you look perfectly... un-murdered to me." He gives her an expectant look, like he's still waiting for an answer. The latter question earns a lift of brows, but no verbal response. "And this is why you're the journeyman," is the sassy answer that Quint earns from his apprentice, even as her arms tighten over herself. Alysce doesn't look up to see the expectant look, as she continues to stare into the fire as if it's the most interesting thing on Pern. "No," said Journeyman corrects, "I'm the Journeyman because I wanted it." Quint gestures towards Alysce, "Now, are you going to sulk all afternoon, or are you going to come and eat a late, late lunch with me, and bring me up to date on all the Weyr's gossip? I'm sure there's plenty to be had...?" it isn't normally something he encourages, so perhaps he's feeling sorry for her. Alysce huffs what could be annoyance or a laugh; it's really up in the air as to what the noise is before she offers Quint dryly, "Oh, you haven't heard? Someone threatened to murder me. One of High Reaches' harpers slept with Fort's Weyrlingmaster. And people made jackasses of themselves." Apparently, she's going to be repetitive today, as she finally lifts her gaze up to Quint, flipping her hair at the same time in an accompanying gesture. Why yes, that is a reaction, in the tightening of expression and thinning of lips. "It's a flight, Alysce. What do you expect?" There's a sharpness to Quint's voice, as he gazes down at his apprentice. "I don't expect anything," Alysce insists, shaking her head dismissively. "But you could have at least cared that I was going to get murdered. Even if you didn't know that, you know, I am your apprentice and it was a flight. You should have made sure I was ok!" There's a defensive belief that, yes, that's all she cares about. And like the near-teen that she is, she seems ready to die on this hill that she's decided to stand on. "Alysce." Quint waits. Waits until she looks, hopefully, until he can catch her eye. "I taught you. I trained you. I know you know how to look after yourself, and you don't need me to babysit you." He pauses. His voice is gentle, knowing. "Coming to you during a flight is the absolute last thing I should have done, and thus, it is why I didn't. Do you understand why?" He does catch her eyes momentarily, but it's only that before Alysce looks away again with a stubborn jut of her jaw. "If you say so, Quint," she answers, again dismissive. "But you know--." Nothing. She says nothing further, just rolling a shoulder upwards in a shrug before she continues on flatly, "You know, it doesn't even matter." "Clearly it does, since you felt compelled to say it." The Journeyman gestures with an indication she should continue. "You know I hate you and your stupid, unwritten rules, right?" is what Alysce counters back, tone unchanging and dry. "Yes. And yet for some reason you feel obligated to stay," Quint replies with just a twitch of lips hinting at his amusement. Alysce huffs a disagreeing noise, her brow slicing upwards before she mumbles dismissively back, "Only because they'd make me test for journeyman to get reassigned." "Maybe," Quint allows, with a lift-and-drop of his shoulder. "So, are you going to keep me company while I eat, or make me perish here waiting for you?" He offers her a hand. Alysce's dark gaze drops to his hand, seriously considering the invitation for a moment before she draws herself to her feet. But she answers with a shake of her head and a not-even-clever, "Not today. I promised someone I'd meet them soon. I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast, though." "Okay," Quint seems to take the decline gracefully enough, and, with a nod of his head, turns to go. Near the door, however, he pauses: "Oh. You only get the one day of grace, mind." There might be a flicker of a smile as he he disappears out the door. |
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