Logs:Annoyances
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| RL Date: 8 September, 2015 |
| Who: Nala, E'dre, Jynth, Wroth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'dre calls Nala to task for her fight with N'rov. She doesn't respond in a respectful manner. |
| Where: Weyrleader's Office, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 10, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: N'rov/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, M'vyn/Mentions, Cece/Mentions |
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| Enough time has passed since Nala and N'rov had their public altercation that some within Hematite have begun to assume no punishment would fall to either party. Plenty of arguments and fists have flown amongst the wing over the turns and as such, most wingriders' are permitted the space to work their own issues out. In their own time. Yet, Wroth's voice comes in a swoosh of clouds and a rumble of thunder as he descends upon Jynth. « She is to report to E'dre after drills. In his office. » Later, E'dre sits behind the desk that he has only recently begun to feel comfortable behind. He's got a steaming mug of klah in front of him and a small plate of meatrolls that are untouched. He waits, watching the door with his fingers steepled and resting on top of a small stack of hides. Jynth doesn't respond. At least, not verbally. There's the sense of something not so different from lightning crackling, a protective shield formed against intrusion beyond the outskirts of his mental presence, and then he's gone. For the duration of drills, Nala doesn't speak unless it's to provide an absolutely necessary answer, monosyllabic in nature, and though she and her blue perform as well as ever they do, there's what is the now usual lack of interest in what they're doing. When she turns up on the ledge outside the office, she's not bothered with a bath and doesn't bother knocking either; she just walks in and stands before the desk. E'dre watches her for a moment and then indicates with his hand the chair near Nala. "Sit," he tells her, not making it a request. He reaches for his klah and sips, continuing his inspection of her. He leans back in his chair, keeping the mug cradled in his hands. "I'm sure you and N'rov are both aware that your altercation," he begins, pausing for another sip of klah, "has gotten back to me." He sets the mug back down on the desk and steeples his fingers together once more. "I'd like your explanation for what happened." He waits. She doesn't sit. She stands there, staring at some distant point above E'dre, almost as if he isn't there at all, until the silence drags on for so long that she has to supply a response or walk straight back out again. "He annoyed me. I hit him." It's a short version of events and explanation of what happened, if a factual one. Nala continues to study that smudge or whatever it is on the wall behind him, seemingly not remotely repentant for what she's done. Were she to slouch, she might look more outright defiant, but she holds herself tall, shoulders squared, as if the entire affair is beneath her. "I'm fairly certain you are not a five turn old little boy," E'dre's tone is as level as he can make it, his eyes sharpening on her as she refuses to sit. "Who needs to resort to the use of fists for dealing with someone who annoys you." He eases back in his chair, moving his hand to the side as he idly taps his fingers on the desktop. Nala's lack of repentance and defiance draws a line between them that E'dre considers for a long stretch of silence. He breaks it as his fingers still, "I want a better explanation than that." "You told me to solve my problems with my fists." The words are delivered flatly, not remotely accusative. A matter of fact reminder and nothing more. Silence again, and maybe she's considering what to say, yet Nala only repeats, "He annoyed me. I hit him." Same tone as before, same inflection - or the lack of any. The bluerider keeps staring right past him, focus passive where her posture is not. "Solving your problems with your fists is one thing, hitting someone because they annoy you is another. Not to mention you did so in front of N'muir. Not to mention you did it in front of holders," E'dre replies, not caring how contradictory his response may be. His brows draw downwards in the beginnings of a scowl. "Did you apologize to N'muir for your behavior?" he asks, glancing down at his hides and then back up at her. There's a fraction of a pause; a flash of guilt before Nala's features smooth themselves back out to passive, distant indifference. "Why would I apologise to him? I no longer answer to him. He is just another bronzerider. He and I are of a rank within the wing." One shoulder twitches in a shrug, however forced. "No doubt, N'rov is blameless. Why should I waste words with a defence or further explanation? Do you have some degrading punishment for me to complete? Because I would appreciate it if we could get straight to that and stop worrying about people's hurt feelings or embarrassment." "You certainly aren't in here apologizing to me," E'dre counters with the first indication that his patience is fraying as he allows a scowl to descend upon his features. "So I assumed you must've apologized to N'muir." It's that statement of hers about N'muir that draws E'dre's ire even more. "N'muir, as you well know, will always be someone of importance to our wing and to this Weyr. He is not just another bronzerider and I know you know that." The rest gives him reason to begin counting his breaths as he attempts to work through his temper and that which Wroth is beginning to unleash against him in response to Nala's words. "I will decide when I tire of this conversation. I gave you the respect of asking you what happened before I asked N'rov. He is not blameless. But he is also your wingsecond and you should know your fists against him was not the right decision no matter how pissed he may have made you." "If you would prefer to defer your authority to N'muir, I am sure nobody would mind," Nala answers with too-deliberate care, even something like longing, despite the immediacy of her response. What he says of respect finally draws her gaze to him, eyes narrowing. "You do not respect me, so there is little value in tossing that term around. The only reason I am here is so that you can share with him what I have said and have a laugh and few drinks over what a failure I am, like my-- like M'vyn does with Cece." She looks up again. "So: he annoyed me and I hit him." It's only a slight variation on the stock response. "Just get on with the next bit. There is nothing more for either of us here." "You give no one a reason to respect you, Nala," E'dre counters, eyes flashing as he tightens his fingers against his mug. "Your fear of how others view you would be unfounded, if you gave them reason to know you," he continues, keeping his voice as flat as possible. "I do not sit around laughing with my seconds about our riders," he narrows his eyes at Nala, "and for you to suggest as much is a personal attack." He loosens his grip on his mug and sits forward in his chair. "Until you can find merit in being in our wing, until you take the time to see your wingmates for the people they are and not annoyances, you're grounded. I only want to hear of Jynth lifting you to your ledge and that's all. You are not to leave this Weyr. Since your fists cannot be trusted." He rests his elbows on his desk and eyes her. "You are dismissed." Nala's huffed breath is not quite a laugh. "A personal attack," she echoes. "Led by hurt feelings as ever. I wondered which button it would be." Another shrug follows, looser now that punishment has been laid out. "You will be waiting a long time. Confine me for as long as you like; it will not make me wish to know any of you for who you are. I already know you too well for that." She doesn't salute, she doesn't show any deference, and she doesn't even look at E'dre until she's almost at the ledge, where she pauses. "I loved N'muir's wing once, you know." And then she's gone. |
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