Logs:Eggs and Siblings
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| RL Date: 22 June, 2015 |
| Who: Jemizen, Lilah |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, Southern Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: During an egg touching, Lilah asks Jem what he wants. Eventually, he stops bullshitting. |
| Where: Hatching Sands, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Early in the morning and late in the evening, the cold rain falling turns to almost-pleasant snow, but most of the day is mired in a bleak, gray drizzle. |
| Mentions: Dee/Mentions, N'jem/Mentions |
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The pale, golden-hued sands occupy nearly the entirety of the Hatching Cavern, with the dam and sire traditionally claiming the north with their eggs scattered throughout. To the right are the Galleries, which stretch up nearly the entire length of the wall and provide the only visual break in what would otherwise be a monotonous tableau. Lighting comes from both the entrance and through glow baskets spaced throughout, ensuring that the place is well-lit at all times. The heat here is tolerable, but only barely, and heat mirages are relatively common. Turns of hatchings have resulted in the sands being littered with fragmentary bits of shells despite thorough cleanings, subtle bits of history being left behind. Yet again, the group of Candidates is brought in by the weyrlingmasters' staff at the request of the junior weyrwoman, who meets them with the usual lecture. No running, jumping, swearing too loudly, kicking, biting--. Only after she's covered every basis does she lead them onto the sands and towards the eggs that Eliyaveith keeps her distance from, for the moment, though she pays close attention to those eggs. Lilah's attention, however, falls to Jemizen and it's he that she talks to directly as she questions, "How are you settling in?" Jemizen wanders in with his fellow Candidates, but unlike a few of the new-to-Standing ones he seems perfectly at ease on the sands, so much so that he strides in nonchalantly, hands shoved in his pockets. The heat of the sands certainly helps, he's only wearing one sweater today. He pauses to offer an appropriately reverential if lazy half-bow to Eliyaveith. As her lifemate approaches, Jem offers a bright smile and a merry wave of greeting. "Hello! I've settled in fine, ma'am. Thanks." The weather may lack sunniness at the moment, but Jem doesn't. "Mmm." That is the only noise that meets Jem's sunny statement, the weight of dark eyes settled on the Southern Candidate for a long moment before Lilah glances away to those eggs that he is meant to be touching. "So, then, what are you hoping for? Going to try to just touch the large eggs that may contain a bronze, or keep to the smaller ones?" Jemizen just keeps smiling obliviously. At Lilah's question he pauses to consider the clutch, his dark brown eyes surveying each egg lightly as he answers, "Not hoping for anything in particular, ma'am." He prefers to leave this and all other matters in fate's capable hands. "If there's any lifemate at all for me on these sands, that's good enough for me." Jem turns that dazzling (and perhaps a touch too vapid) smile back on the junior weyrwoman. "May I?" He leans toward the nearest egg but doesn't move to touch it. "That is what you are here for," replies Lilah dryly to his question, the only permission she will give though she seems intent on watch him, specifically, as the Candidates go about the task. "So you would not feel any specific way for any color, then? Bronze?" A pause, "Green?" Jemizen has the decency to appear sheepish as he finally wanders toward the nearest egg, its shell swirled with blue hues touched with green, and spots of white and brown at each end. "This is the fourth time I've Stood." He admits easily, though he begins counting on his free hand as his right traces an index finger across the bird-like shape at the top of the egg. "No. Fifth, I think. Hoping for something specific seems like a waste of time." Trust Jem on this, as time-wasting is his primary area of knowledge. Finally he places one palm, gently, to the egg's surface, admitting, "Green would be nice." Lilah's brow curves up disbelieving, but she doesn't press that point. Instead, as he touches that egg, she questions simply, "What does your father want for you to Impress, then?" Abandoning the seascape egg for a mostly-white, vaguely dingy-looking egg, Jem admits, "Bronze, I imagine." He places one palm on the egg's shell and makes a face. Hopefully the fact that this egg is weirdly stinky will serve as a good cover for that. "And you don't," Lilah surmises from his skipping the question before, something wry there as she trails after him from one egg to the other like some goldrider ghost. Jemizen's response is almost immediate and dully robotic, "I'd be honored to ride Bronze for Fort weyr." Fingertips linger on the shell of the smelly egg even as he steps away, toward a bright green egg. Jem regards the leafy markings for a moment before he places both palms on its shell. Over his shoulder he remarks to Lilah with a grin, "But really, anything would do." "Herdshit," Lilah challenges flatly, falling silent to watch Jemizen's response to that. Even before Jem can register visible surprise at Lilah's curse, his immediate reaction is a laugh filled with genuine mirth in addition to startlement. His hands fall back to his sides, and though he still seems amused, Jemizen also appears suitably chagrined. "I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge of riding Bronze," he admits with a shrug, hoping that frankness might get him somewhere that kowtowing could not. It certainly seems to, as it is met with a thoughtful noise and what might be an approving look over the Candidate before Lilah answers, "I'm not sure any bronzerider is. But if you're admitting that, you're clearly not bronzerider material." Another laugh precedes the look of pointed relief that comes to rest on Jem's face, at that. He turns to regard the egg before him again, tracing the verdant, fabric-like folds patterning its shell with his fingers. "I really do like green." As a color, and perhaps as a dragon. "You wouldn't find it odd, to be bonded to a female mind?" questions Lilah at that, curious and simple. The question is lighter still now that he doesn't seem to be answering her by rote, and she even offers up, "I had a clutchmate who struggled with it during weyrlinghood. I doubt he's ever accepted it, even now." Jemizen shrugs lightly, though his hands remain on the egg before him. "It might be odd. But it would also be interesting." He flashes another one of those bright, happy smiles at the goldrider as he adds, "Having any other voice in your head must be odd at first, right?" Steps are taken toward a peachy-purply hued egg with a smooth-as-glass shell. "But I'm sure it's worth it. My sister and I have a strong bond, and I love her very much." Dark eyebrows furrow--he'd be frowning thoughtfully if he weren't so damned sunny. "I can only imagine the love you'd feel in a bond that goes even deeper than that. Even more than family." "Not every bond is the same; not every bond is as deep as another. And just because you love something, does not mean you can't also hate it," Lilah replies carefully, though it seems that Jem's brightness does at least a bit to blunt even her sharp edges. "I suppose you and your sister might not understand that, but I know plenty of siblings who would." Jemizen's expression becomes a full-fledged frown, at that. "No. Not hate, not really. Right? I mean, even if you love someone, you could maybe still... Resent them, I guess. But that's not hate." Stepping dnagerously close to self-awareness at this point, Jem attempts to distance himself from this train of thought. "Maybe other siblings. I've been lucky to have the family I have." And with that he steps away from the smooth-shelled egg without even having touched it. "There is a very thin, fine line between love and hate," is all Lilah answers of that, only a murmur as she observes how quickly Jemizen allows that train of thought to end. Instead, she'll only remark of his family, "I am sure. Your sister seems-- pushy, but I am sure she cares for you greatly." Relieved at the excuse to abandon the possibility of thoughtful reflection, Jemizen chuckles at Lilah's description of his sister. "Pushy. Yes, that's a good word for it." All easy smiles again, Jem ambles over to one of the larger eggs, place one hand on its sky-blue top while the other hand traces the gray circular shape at its side with gentle fingertips. Lilah's gaze trails him to that egg, until suddenly it does not. The movement of one Candidate shoving another, though not whatever set it off, catches Eliyaveith's attention and thus the goldrider's. There's no excuse or goodbye made to Jemizen, leaving him to touch the eggs as he wishes as she storms over to kick two boys off the Sands. |
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