Logs:(No) Time
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| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Niahvth glows. K'del attempts to prepare. |
| When: Day 14, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Leova/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Perhaps he should have noticed something sooner. There had been those headaches, the ones she'd taken vacation in order to heal... were they a sign of impending proddiness? Surely Irianke would've known, if that were the case, but perhaps she had deliberately not said anything? She certainly wouldn't have said anything that might give him an advantage. And he'd not been looking for signs. Niahvth wasn't due-- he hadn't intended to spend the next turn or more watching and waiting. He'd thought... he'd planned on having more time. More time to tie up those loose ends; more time to get used to what he'd do if... if... Now he could feel Niahvth's proddiness, though, as much as Cadejoth could see it. As much as the whole Weyr could, he supposed. It was good to know, for sure, that the Weyr wouldn't be subjected to Farideh, no matter how much growing she'd done these recent months. It was good just to know. But he'd thought to have more time. To actually pack up his weyr would have been an admission of defeat; even so, he tidied. If Cadejoth didn't win... if someone else did, they could simply walk in here in a few days and do what they liked, if they were feeling authoritative. (His mind substituted other words for 'authoritative' and he felt, briefly, better. Words were powerful.) Old papers. Old mementos. How many turns had it been now since Tiriana burnt all his things? Without intending to, he'd accumulated more. Things from the kids. Things from Ali. Things. He didn't pack them away, but he did tidy them. Later, he sat down at his desk. He'd intended to follow Leova's suggestion, but there'd been no time. Don't fuck it up is what he wrote, without signing his name. Perhaps he'd live to regret it. Perhaps his successor would. But the ends needed to be tied off. He finished off reports on his wingleaders, too. It was possible that one of them would end up reading these reports, but what could he do about that? Nothing. He noted strengths, weaknesses. Who had talked about retiring. Whose wing might be merged with someone else's. He finalised some transfer requests, too: wing to wing, not Weyr to Weyr. Yes, Icicle could have that greenrider; no, Hailstorm could not have that young bronzerider, not when Avalanche had mounted such a defence. He closed his eyes. Cadejoth was thrumming with anticipation, almost. There would be no leaving the Weyr, he supposed, not until all this was over. He wrote to Ali, too, just to let her know. I love you, he put at the bottom. I'll see you soon, soon as all of this is over, one way or another. It all felt strangely wrong. Too soon. Not enough time. No time at all. |
Contents
Comments
Lilah (06:10, 1 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
- coughcough* I know a way that you could have more time.
(Or if you had prepared with Lilah's advice!)
Faryn (06:38, 1 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
This is really heartbreaking. Character emotional distress is the name of this game, but this in particular makes me very sad. /crawls into a glass case of emotion
Squishy (09:34, 1 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
This was so good to read. Also heartbreaking, but you really feel that sense of impending doom.
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