Logs:The Crawler Clause
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| RL Date: 14 July, 2016 |
| Who: Jo, Jocelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo and Jocelyn finally talk past "hello." |
| Where: Southern Rim of the Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 4, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jaine/Mentions |
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| It's a clear afternoon that finds the Rim bathed in warmth. Save for the watchrider that's far from where she is, Jo - in her black leathers and looking as though she had just arrived at the Weyr - seems to be finishing up a meeting with two dragonriders that are nodding to something she's saying as they both take a step back to depart towards their waiting dragons. Aidavanth is openly sunning on her ledge this afternoon, implying that Jocelyn is, if not actually at home, certainly here at High Reaches, unlike on yesterday's restday where neither were seen between dawn and dusk. It's a dark green with silvering muzzle and her equally silver-haired rider who drop the weyrwoman off out of conversational range of Jo and her companions before departing, leaving the older of the junior queenriders to stare distantly off over the bowl. Arms wrapping loosely about herself as she begins a slow walk vaguely in the direction of the ladder leading to the riders' lounge, her expression is one of preoccupation, circles shadowy beneath pale eyes and mouth, pinched. She probably sees the other riders, but noticing them? That's probably another story. "We'll let you know, Jo," one of the riders states, the two men vaguely aware that there's a newcomer to the rim. Jo clicks her tongue as she produces a flask from within her open jacket as she says without looking at them, "See that ya do." It's a dismissal, and the two riders do not linger any longer. One of them as they move past Jocelyn seem to recognize her that instant, his step just a single falter that smoothes out with curt nod of greeting towards her as he keeps on. Brief in acknowledgments on any given day, the redhead only seems to notice the nod when it's almost too late to reply with a terse, "Afternoon, " as she, too, continues on her way. It's enough to orient her back to her surroundings, enough for her steps to slow slightly as she (finally) catches sight of Jo. Her clipped, "Wingsecond, " is perhaps a touch too formal for the setting, but Jocelyn allows for the older rider's name after, chin dipping briefly with a brief, "Jo, " much as their other, infrequent hellos may have gone in the past. Jo is lifting that flask for a good drink when the clipped greeting catches her. She cuts a look towards the voice to find Jocelyn there, and her dark eyes flit over her (and just the slightest pause on her chest) before meeting her gaze again as the flask is set down. "Weyrwoman," is her own casual greeting in return, letting a pause hit before she adds, "Jocelyn." Beat. "Congratulations are in order, I take it, darlin'. Risin' 'nall." There's a dark humor briefly present in Jocelyn's stare, the unsteadiness at the corners of her mouth, and yet her only answer is a short, "Thank you. We did our duty." That subject is closed, says her tone, much like the way her arms tighten about herself. She doesn't seem overly inclined to more conversation, turning a sidelong glance toward that ladder again before, almost thoughtfully: "I wonder if I can talk Jaine into scheduling meetings for me up here. One might be less likely to be overheard." "'Duty'," Jo echoes the exact sentiment Jocelyn uses on the words, one corner of her mouth lifting as she shifts her body to turn more towards the goldrider. "First time I've heard of it spoken of like that." It's a gentle tease at the most, but judging by the other's body language, she doesn't linger on it. She nods on the latter, however, as she neutrally says, "One of the best places for'em, I think. Keeps nosy folks out ya business. Out ya secrets, too. I don' think we've ever met properly." This last is latched on like an afterthought, the bluerider studying the other now. Jocelyn's lips purse faintly in response to the bluerider's emphasis, posture stiff. "I don't suppose we have, " says she at some length, pale eyes likewise scrutinizing Jo. "Until now, anyway." There, a faint trace of better humor, however short-lived. "Although I've certainly seen you about. And Tacuseth, of course. Your legends precede you, " drily. "My....legends." There's a slight intonation at the end of that, making it appear as a question, too, from Jo. "I can imagine. I wonder which ones do the weyrwomen like to talk 'bout 'mongst themselves. I can guess by the tone that, whichever it is, ya don' approve." "Farideh doesn't speak poorly of you, if that's what you're asking, " Jocelyn answers, shoulders lifting in a brief shrug. "My approval - or lack thereof - means nothing in the long run. It won't change anyone's nature." Perhaps she isn't talking about Jo at all, for her gaze swings briefly down toward the upper level of weyrs with a grimace. Does she do well at masking her upset? Maybe the half-turn away helps; in any case, she's almost regained her composure by the time she tacks on, "I should have a ride returning for me shortly. I'm sorry if I've disturbed your solitude." "'Cuz Farideh naturally sees the good in everyone," Jo says, grinning a bit. "She's a good girl. Yer approval means more in this Weyr than any other, weyrwoman." There's a brief pause before, "Is there someone's nature yer lookin' to change?" But the goldrider turns from her, and perhaps she doesn't see Jocelyn's composure slip. In any case, the last has the bluerider shaking her head just once as she looks out over the horizon as she says, "I'm not disturbed. I make an aim make acquaintance of those that lead this Weyr, darlin'. When I can." The weight Jo attributes to Jocelyn's approval causes the redhead's shoulders to stiffen in some surprise; the goldrider's gaze is narrowed when she turns back to face the older woman, skepticism offered in lieu of an openly startled expression. "Really. My knot is hardly large enough for my opinions to hold that much sway, " despite being larger than it once was some turns ago. There's a rueful cast to her after the inquiry on changing natures, eyes shutting briefly. "Would that we could." She still looks as if she's trying to figure more of Jo out by the time the green who brought her comes into view and backwings to a landing. "With that knot-" Jo nods towards Jocelyn and the surprise she detects, "-comes power. Still. Maybe not as it was long ago, but, I've known weyrwomen who could take that knot with a bit of creativity. Ya can be surprised what yer capable of." That tinge of a smirk is secretive. Knowing. Dark eyes find the newcoming green dragon quick enough before she adds, "A shame yer ride comes so soon. I know who Farideh'n Irianke are. You are still a mystery." "And I'm sure each one you've known found a different way to make use of their resources." Jocelyn's tone turns bland, but the slight frown for the brunette's knowing sort of look is anything but. For Jo's last, however, her eyebrows lift and the corners of her mouth curl briefly. "I hear you're smart, wingsecond. If you know Farideh and Irianke, you already know me. The only things we share are our circumstances and the color of our dragons' hides." So saying, she mounts the aging green awaiting her with a hand raised in farewell before the transport departs, spiraling down toward Aidavanth's ledge. It's only then - once Jocelyn answers her both times - that Jo chuckles and raises that flask to her lips for a healthy drink. Once done, the goldrider is mounted and the bluerider lifts her flask in response to the farewell as the other drops from sight. |
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