Logs:Inclined to (Dis)Like
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| RL Date: 9 September, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Jo, Tacuseth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo visits Fort and is found by Taeliyth. Jo indulges Dee making inquiries after High Reaches' wounded Weyrleader and its various goldriders. |
| Where: Lake Shore, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 10, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Clear and impossibly blue skies carry a hint of autumnal woodsmoke on the breeze. |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, J'zen/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, Zennia/Mentions |
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>---< Lake Shore, Fort Weyr >------------------------------------------------<
The lake's shore is a broad crescent of golden-hued sand, stretching from
the southwest wall near the feeding grounds and around to the southeast
where the sand gives way to soil and leaf detritus from a cluster of hardy
mountain trees. Where the lake deepens, clear blue water darkens to murky
teal, hiding stony depths. Dragons often sun here and riders use the lake
for dragonwashing in the warmer seasons, while all of the Weyr's denizens
may enjoy walks and picnics among the large, smooth boulders that
interrupt the smooth flow of sand. Many of the Weyr's children also play
at skipping stones with the wide variety of rocks available along the
water's edge.
Clear and impossibly blue skies carry a hint of autumnal woodsmoke on the
breeze. It's morning and Jo and Tacuseth are in Fort. She's wrapped all up in her black leather and wild black hair, looking menacing on the shore while her blue dragon - free of straps and carrysacks - seems to have decided to go for a swim. If there's others out on the shore, they seem to be avoiding the Reachian bluepair in this brief interlude they find themselves in, with the rider of the pair sitting on her butt and using one of her knives to idly carve something into the golden-hued sand. The weyrlings have been in the bowl's sky, maneuvering through various formations and practicing drills that, while they may hold local flavor, are familiar enough to riders the world over. At some signal, Quartz Wing lands and takes some instruction from the instructors back in the bowl. It's some time after than landing that the slender wheaten gold arrives at the lakeshore. Initially, her rider is nowhere in sight and rather than keep her distance, her proprietary stroll takes her toward the 'Reaches pair, the first mental herald of her presence to Tacuseth being a sense of being watched at a distance, replaced by the refreshing cool of a leafy canopy on a warm day, the scent of the woods pervading the feeling. It's not exactly welcoming, but neither is it unwelcoming. When Tacuseth's mindspace is suddenly invaded - when he feels the tingles of being watched - the blue sends the tendrils of deep blue desert shadows towards the larger young queen, buffeted by the winds of a murmuring crowd. A curious crowd. He doesn't stop his floating, though, so Jo only has the dragon's arrival to go by. She merely eyes Taeliyth while her blue's curiosity thickens. « If you're going to be visiting, you might as well be useful, » to her goes unsaid but is heavily implied in the tart explanation that might double as greeting to the blue. The shadows of the Wood shift as though the sun has changed position in an absurdly quick fashion, Taeliyth's mental attention given over to the blue while her eyes remain on Jo as she stops what would probably be considered a non-threatening distance away, even if she stretches her neck to better see what's being done in the sand in front of the bluerider. It doesn't take long for Dee to arrive, at a run, her course adjusting as she sees the position of the wheaten gold. Despite her sturdy frame, Dee is anything but intimidating in her teal exercise shorts, lavender tank-top and short-cropped hair; she looks wholesome, not even sweaty yet. "Hey-a," is hardly a mannerly greeting as she comes to a stop, only it's quick to turn into a salute, "Ma'am." Leathers are enough to tell the weyrling she needs do that much, but a drop of eyes to where the knot should be doesn't tell her more. A lower lip is pulled into her mouth to be worried uncertainly a moment before being released on some silent prompting from the gold whose eyes flick down to her rider briefly before returning to Jo. « Useful how, lil'un? » comes deep from Tacuseth, his presence perhaps permeating Taeliyth's wood with almost a haunted quality to it. Jo herself looks up in time to catch the gold staring at her and she pauses in her sand carving of something that resembles a map. To the very astute, they'd probably figure out that the map is of the nearby Fort area surrounding the Weyr, with details in the process of being marked in. Otherwise, it's just a bunch of lines and circles. The convict rider stares right back at her before Dee arrives and draw away her attention - or rather the tank top. She straightens only a bit at the formality, but when she catches that look to where a knot should be on herself, "I don' like to be noticed. Just passin' through." It seems like that's all she's willing to say as she returns to her work, and then, "Reaches' duties, darlin'. Ain' gotta call me ma'am. Just Jo." Taeliyth is unperturbed by the haunted quality that mingles Tacuseth's touch with her own, but is keenly aware of it. « In this case, by being a distinctive visual marker of my location. Visualization warm up. » She sounds bored by it, like it's homework she doesn't particularly think she needs to do. « Enjoying your visit? » is queried with cool interest, a wind of curiosity rustling branches and fluttering leaves. If she realizes Jo is drawing a map, she doesn't let on. "Ah," is Dee's sound of uncertainty as she takes in the words, the duties and automatic comes, "Fort's duties to High Reaches Weyr. Jo," she tries the name on before offering, "I'm Dee. This is Taeliyth," though probably the gold at least doesn't need introduction. "I-- it's not really my business, but do you know if Weyrleader K'del is doing better? My mother is a poor spy." There's humor there, even if it's delivered with a little reservation. His touch a lingering one that seem to taste the quality of the queen, « If ya must, » he sends her easily - the blue doesn't look to be going anywhere for some time. « Visiting here is different, » he admits after a moment, his head sinking below the water. « The water tastes different. Yer young, » he takes note in observation now while Jo states, "Dee. That must be short for somethin'." Like hers. "Well met. Young weyrwoman 'round here, huh?" and her dark gaze cuts towards Taelityh with a bit of a calculating quality before she looks down to examine her work. Then she looks at Dee with one of her intense studies, a chin lifting on hearing the name of her Weyrleader before she answers, "A trajedy, there. He's recoverin'. Man's made of stubborn stone'n gristle. Yer mother lives down south?" Sass, intelligence and something hidden in the deep dark of her Wood, that's the measure of the gold that may be taken in these moments. « Different than? » is a question that speaks to that youth. « It's different than other parts of Fort. Different than 'Reaches too? » There's a shrewdness to the intelligence that asks, and the hinting that she's looking at how he answers as much as what he answers. « We'll be betweening next month, » she imparts as admission of her youth. Dee's expression tightens slightly. "Well, there's me; I'm eighteen. Weyrwoman Hattie's older and there was Weyrwoman Lilah," a convulsive swallow speaks to emotions still too close to the surface for comfort and Dee looks toward the floating blue some moments before looking back. "Too many tragedies going around," is her succinct answer for that, but there's feeling in her face for High Reaches' tragedy, too. "I'm glad. I had my mother bring him one of my plants. I'm from there. She's a greenrider." It seems almost a babble. "At least there are good things, too. Niahvth risen and now Roszadyth too, I'm told, so two good clutches," nevermind the rumors of a short leadership flight and what that might mean. « Different than the cold of the Reaches, » Tacuseth agrees, and even sends the little weyrling queen the feeling of the Reachian cold winds - the bite in the air from the Reachian mountains, the chill of the lake at his Weyr. It's a snapshot that's tasted - that's felt more than seen. « I haven' seen much of Fort beyond here, » admits then. « We don' get out this far often. When ya Between, you can come visit my end, » as a casual offer. "Yeah, Lilah," Jo picks up the name of the lost Weyrwoman, watching Dee with a brief incline of her head. "Perhaps the tragedies will keep for the rest of the turn. Ain' good for anyone's business. Yer southern, eh? Long way from home, darlin'." Her study of the younger woman hasn't wavered, though she's picked up carving in the sand again. On have a double-clutch, there's a nod to that and the glimmers of a smile for it. "Ain' the first I've seen," she admits. "Iesaryth'n Hreadhyth's. There's been speculation on how the clutch'll turn out though. I should pro'bly make a bettin' pool'n cash in on it." Taeliyth's interested in the feel that's offered, to be sure. « We intend to, » is said with certainty. « Weyrleader K'del suggested Dee befriend Farideh as one of the only other people on Pern who might be able to share the experiences she's facing, but she refused invitation to visit us. » It doesn't bother Taeliyth so much as has the sensation of an eyeroll. « I'm beginning to think Dee should only befriend those without shiny lifemates. » A speculative glance goes to Jo from the gold. "Yes," Dee's single word answers the tragedy quota and the distance from home. "I came to keep my brother out of trouble," is wryly said for there's a lift of a hand to indicate Taeliyth and presumably the trouble Dee has landed herself in. "I heard the seniorship flight was-- unusual, but no details," she looks to Jo, the words inviting information if Jo's of a sharing mind. "I only know Iesaryth and Hraedhyth's names, but not-- really anything of them, except that they died, unexpectedly and too young." There's apology in her tone. She is only eighteen after all and Southern is a long way from anywhere on the Northern continent. There's invitation though, there, too. « Roszadyth's is interesting, » Tacuseth comments on the Reachian queen, his amused felt in the shadows. « Why won't she visit? Hmm, perhaps she should, » is his belief in befriending those not of the shinier element. « Mine isn' all that bad. There's others, too. » As for the leadership flight, there's a snort and a, "Understatement," from Jo. "I wasn' around for either flight, actually. Part of me wished I was, if only to get in on some of the action. Not that I lack anyway, but." There's a shrug given before some of her smile ebbs on the past weyrwomen, glancing at Dee before she admits, "Knew'em well. Aishani more than Azaylia. Good sort of folks that didn' judge. Well, they didn' judge me," she amends sardonically. "Regarded Shani as a sister. Don' really know ya, but, I think ya would've liked'em both. Maybe Azaylia more since she's kinder." Nostalgia's in her veiled tone before she asks, "How's weyrlin'hood goin', anyway?" « Aren't they all, » carries humor that verges on the sardonic. « What's she like? Farideh. » The young queen clarifies. « And Irianke? » As long as she's asking about the High Reaches goldriders... "Seniorship flights have a way of being intense." The way Dee looks back at Jo isn't something that is more than innocent, friendly interest. "I'm inclined to like people," she volunteers, "but I'd like to think you're right. I'm sorry for your loss," perhaps more meant for Aishani than Azaylia given the chosen family title. "I can't imagine how hard it must be to lose someone so close." Perhaps she'll never have to learn? "Do people judge you much, Jo?" It's a curious question that comes instead of an answer about weyrlinghood, a slight tilt to the young woman's head to try to imagine why; it's possible the danger inherent in all that black has just gone completely over her head. Tacuseth seems to be considering Fortian queen's questions as he wades for the shore. Instead of answering with words, Taeliyth will find a visual of wild southern felines fighting. Claws and all. « We like Niahvth's, » he voices on Irianke decisively. « Jo gets along with her. Have ya met her? » "I'm inclined not to," Jo admits behind Dee's own declaraction of liking people as she pockets her knife. "'Less we happen to mesh're I'm fuckin' ya or somethin'." There's no laughter to suggest she's joking. She nods on the sentiment on the goldriders, but she answers on judging with a wry, "I'm a complicated girl, darlin'. Complications come with stories. Actions." Watching Tacuseth approach them, "I live my own life," she says boldly before her gaze seeks Dee out with that little secretive smile. "I don' let any rules define me." « I've met Cadejoth, among other males, but never Niahvth, Roszadyth or their lifemates. Dee has met K'del. » Among other males goes unsaid but it's there for the knowing. Taeliyth considers the image of felines. « Those look tasty, » is her ultimate assessment. « Are they? » These are the important questions in life, aren't they? "You wouldn't be the first to dislike me," Dee answers honestly, no judgment for the bluerider's words apparent in her earnest expression. "Complications are life, I think, the stories and scars the wealth of experience. I thought I was a simple girl. Farmcrafter. I just wanted to feed people and cross-breed plants." Simple. Her smile is a little softer, "Things don't seem to ever turn out as simply as one might hope. Choices and consequences. Everything has a price." She lets out a breath as if the reality of all that, to her, was some weight lifted or just re-settling differently. "I'm a good listener, if you've ever a willingness to play storyteller. I'll believe just about everything you tell me, too." That comes with a wry smile. Just about. « When you can Between, » Tacuseth offers then on meeting the Reachian golds. « And then ya can see our lake. » On felines looking tasty, « Mine says so, » comes with only a slight innocence. A lot of amusement. That amusement lingers even on Niahvth's, secretive almost, to the end since he says, « Mine says we must go now. » Getting to her feet as she brushes sand from her hands, "I don' dislike ya," Jo states evenly enough. "Hardly know ya. Gotta know ya first. We'll talk, perhaps. Ain' here all that much, but, if Taeliyth calls, we'll listen. We just might come, too." Her boots make short work of smoothing out the drawing, turning it back to smooth sand before she looks up as Dee with a nod and turns to restrap her blue. "Speakin' of," she says to her, "we've gotta run. Don' be a stranger. I usually don' bite." There's only slight emphasis on 'usually'. Only a tad suggestive. Maybe Dee won't notice it as she prepares to head out. Something about the amusement makes the young gold's shrewd intelligence narrow; she realizes she's missing something, but the innocence of youth doesn't provide any answers about what. « Clear skies, » she offers without feeling attached. It's likely meant, but perhaps she would keep him to explain, if she had her way in this moment. She doesn't try and neither does Dee, though she does echo her dragon's wish, the girl's tone more heartfelt, though in a way that suggests genuineness is in the girl's wheelhouse. She gives her dragon a look as the blue pair departs, brows lifting with blinks and then, only then, there's the soft 'oh' of understanding and a flush of a blush to her cheeks, and a laugh. |
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