Logs:Never Enough
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 13 July, 2013 |
| Who: Reesa, N'rad |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The returned weyrlings discuss their situation and position in the Weyr. |
| Where: Lake Shore, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 7, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: S'fin/Mentions, E'ten/Mentions, Serah/Mentions |
| It's a warm summer's afternoon, and while the Weyrlingmasters had the group of older 'weyrlings' doing between practice all morning, the early afternoon is an opportunity for the dragons (and their riders) to rest. Supposedly, anyway- however Khiabeth's taken to her spot by the lake, to catch the best early afternoon sun. Reesa of course, is dutifully touching up her hide with oil, though she's ended up with most of it on her pretty yellow summer dress as on Khiabeth's hide. "If you stopped squirming, this would be so much easier," the girl's saying, with a hand on her hip. There's a flick of Khiabeth's tail in return, and another little wiggle-in-place: « But I'm not comfortable in the sand yet. » It's probably a familiar scene, especially when Reesa rolls her eyes, but resumes her work: she dotes on that dragon of hers, after all. There is little doting today going on between N'rad and Maldoranth, if there ever was. Their relationship from the very beginning has been marked by duty. Duty and bouts of panic, on N'rad's side. Duty and exasperation on Maldoranth's. The last month or so, however, has seen improvement, and today it might be noted in the way the two are calmly approaching the lake, side by side, one as languid as the other. The dark bronze sends a brief greeting to his green sister before heading directly into the water. There is no inefficient splashing, but the dragon's broad chest sends some sudden waves arcing toward the middle of the lake. N'rad stops where it's still dry, watches the bronze for a moment, then turns toward Reesa and Khiabeth. "Doing all right?" he calls over to his fellow weyrling. There's a delighted noise of greeting from Khiabeth to her fellow clutchmate, her head twisting to watch the bronze make his way into the water. The sudden, fixed stillness bespeaks a moment of attention, possibly prior to an attack, but all Maldoranth will feel is the slight, familiar pressure of Khiabeth's thoughts, a gentle buzzing of unstruck lightning: « Is it warm enough, yet? » The stillness is enough for Reesa to identify another presence, and oil-slicked hands drop to her side a moment as she, too, watches Maldoranth, before turning brilliant smile towards N'rad. She beckons him closer with a stretch of her hand, "She's loving this weather. I swear she would've been better hatched on Ista's sands," the casual comment is chatter to wait for the bronze weyrling to get closer before she gives him a more careful, worried look. "Are you okay? I don't /like/ that they've separated us." Maldoranth is already deep enough that his legs no longer touch the bottom. With wings outspread, he glides through the water more than swimming through it, though the churning of dark legs might be just barely discernible as he slowly makes his way toward the lake's center. The touch of thought is as cool as the touch of that water on his hide, which he shares with Khiabeth. « It is warm enough for me. » Perhaps not the answer the green had in mind, but it's what the soldier-like bronze is apt to give. N'rad has stopped just a few paces away from Reesa and her green, though his attention is partially on Maldoranth's progress in the lake. "I'm... yeah, actually." The young man worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a second, then runs his knuckles against the side of his chin. "We've been... /good/," he adds, sounding almost surprised. "If they'd have taught us like the weyrlingmasters are trying to now..." Unfortunately, there are too many complicated thoughts attached to that statement, and the simple blonde doesn't manage to finish any of them. He studies Reesa for a long moment before asking, "How are you guys doing? And Serah and her brute?" « I prefer the sun, » Khiabeth takes out of that answer, the pressure of her thoughts easing momentarily as she allows the heat of the day to seep into her thoughts. « Come join me, when you are done. » Reesa's expression is odd as he talks about /them/, and she lets her hand fall to her side, fingers curling up. There's an odd kind of tension in her posture, though her voice is genuine enough as she says, "I'm glad, you've been better. I was-" she falls silent, turning- to watch Khiabeth, as she rises from her self-made sandy wallow, twisting in a circle until she gets just the right position, before settling down again. Rubbing oil-soaked hands against her dress, and not really caring about the stains it leaves behind, the greenrider keeps her gaze on her dragon as she says, "I'm glad they've helped you, but they've been frustrating for me. Especially that bronzerider. And that greenrider." No names, though whether that's deliberate is hard to tell. "/They/ say she'll rise soon, too. And," a glance back, finally, "Serah is Serah." N'rad watches Khiabeth idly, and once she's settled back into her sandy hollow, the weyrling seems to think it's a good idea, because he ends up plopping down to the beach, too, hands digging back against the sand. There's a good chance this is the most relaxed Reesa might have seen him... ever. One on the lake, Maldoranth has folded his wings tightly to his body, which allows his body to dip lower into the water just before he rolls onto his back. Large whirling eyes nearly glow, they're so blue, as he looks back to shore, responding to Khiabeth's mental pressure with a gentle push back. « You armor yourself with sand, » he responds in a low rumble, interlaced with hints of dessert sand carried on a dry wind and bordered by a shoreline of sapphire. N'rad gives Reesa's green a close look and frowns before looking to the rider again. "Why frustrating, exactly?" Khiabeth seems bemused by the bronze's response- or perhaps the sun's heat slows down her response, giving it a more languid, heated feel. « And you with water. And duty. » She doesn't seem to mind the push-back, distracted as she is by the feel of a desert sand. « I wish to go there, » she decides, wherever /there/ is. « We can. We should. » Reesa steps over and seats herself next to N'rad, stretching legs out in front of her- bare toes digging into the sand- and hands stretched out behind her for balance. She gives him a sidelong, evaluative look, her expression softening a little, then glances away at his latter question. "They keep saying we should /know/ things, or expecting that we should know things. Or expecting us to /prove/ this or that to them. I don't /like/ jumping through hoops," she admits, and if she's aware of how /teenager/ that sounds, well- it's followed by a faint grimace. N'rad considers that for a while as he watches Maldoranth continue his tour of the lake. He's passed the center now, still edging farther away from them, though now that his wings are folded, it's slower going. « We are tied to this place, » he responds to Khiabeth, his mindvoice as chilled as the lake's water. « For now. As easy to go as it was to come here, though. » So little does he remember. "I think they're mostly frustrated," N'rad says after a long pause. "Just... in general. I almost--" He cuts himself off and shoves the heel of his boot through the sand until one of his legs is stretched out in front of them. "After S'fin died, I couldn't help thinking, why not just tell them? Everything?" He keeps his voice pitched low and quiet, shooting Reesa a weighing look just after. "Didn't, though. Just made me realize, I've gotta learn all I can from them so Mal and I don't go the same way." « I like the sun here, » Khiabeth agrees, mentally following Maldoranth's explorations with distant attention- like the feel of someone peering over your shoulder. « We can go, but we can come back. » Reesa's posture is mostly relaxed- at least until N'rad speaks, and she pushes upright, going rigid, eyes wide. "You /can't/," she hisses. "It'd bad for all of us. They can't /make/ us tell." Her breathing is ragged, and her fingers press against the blue band that's wrapped around her left arm. "S'fin," she exhales a breath, voice uneven, "He was- that wasn't his fault. He panicked- that queen scared him. But you're not- you're /safe/," she says, forcefully, like she can make it true just by saying it. "Okay? You're not allowed to leave me, too." N'rad regards Reesa for a long, solemn moment, then reaches out a hand. He doesn't quite touch her shoulder, but it's about as close as he usually comes to physical contact with anyone. Soon enough, his hand falls back to the sand. "It was just in the moment... they push so hard." Which 'they', he doesn't specify. Maybe it doesn't matter. "But now..." He bites his lower lip. Out in the water, Maldoranth submerges for a few seconds, then reemerges nearer the center of the lake again. "There are things I need to take care of soon. But I can only do it if they let Mal and me leave. Not /leave/, leave, but... I need to... find some people." Pale eyes flick toward Reesa, then down at her arm band. "It's not good enough if we're the only ones who are safe," N'rad adds more quietly as he looks away again. Reesa breathes a slow exhale of breath, having held it until N'rad lets his hand drop back down. "Now...?" is the faint, almost inaudible prompt from the greenrider as she pulls her legs underneath her, fingers dropping into her lap. She watches her clutchmate avidly, blue eyes steady. "I'll help you. With whatever you need, you know that, right? Serah will, too," she adds, after a beat. "Whether it's to help distract the others so they don't notice your gone, or to go with you. You just have to tell me, you don't even have to ask." For Maldoranth, there's a slight buzzing of electricity, not painful, just curious, as Khiabeth sees him surface. Maldoranth reaches the shore and rises from the water, droplets cascading quickly down his hide. He holds his wings out slightly to let the wind help whisk away the damp, but he does nothing else to aid it. Moments later, he stretches out near Khiabeth. There is no careful sand nest hollowed out, no preference to placement or direction. He merely flops down, back legs stretched out straight behind him, parallel to his tail. « Swimming is such different exertion from flying, » he shares in fleeting thought, though the cold of the lake has already left his mental touch, instantly warming with the sun, the sand and the wind. N'rad leans forward and draws his knees up while brushing sand from his hands, then he links his arms around his shins as he watches Maldoranth settle in. "I'd thought, maybe if I told the riders here, they might be able to help. But then I figured, am I a sharding rider or /not/?" This last is with a lopsided grin as he turns back to Reesa. Khiabeth cracks an eye to watch Maldoranth emerging, something pleased in the light touches of electricity that zing off her thoughts as he settles down onto the sand next to her. « It is interesting. The fish are interesting. But I prefer the air, » the green replies, more than likely because she is /fast/ in the air, not so much in the water. "You are," Reesa's quick to say. "They call us weyrlings, but we're /riders/- I mean, Maldoranth might've been Weyrleader." /That/ idea tickles her fancy, to judge by the lightness of her gaze and the curve of lips upwards. "We don't need them to help, /we/ can fix it. We will." She seems certain, almost forceful. A slow thrum of agreement is audible from Maldoranth, both along that draconic link and to the riders. « Nothing compares to flying, » he states, tone matter-of-fact and quiet. His mindvoice has settled to something relaxed, shadowed but airy and warm. "Shells, don't remind me," N'rad groans, though he's still grinning. "Me, weyrleader? Screw that. Though between you 'n' me, it's not as scary now as it seemed then. Thought my head would explode, at the time." He watches the two dragons for a long moment before glancing at the greenrider again. "Do you like it here? Fort, I mean? Or... think about going away?" His thrum is joined by hers, a deliberate, pleasant harmony on Khiabeth's part. « Once you have baked the water out of your hide, we can fly. It is warm - we can hang in the air forever. » That thought has her heated mindvoice thrilling with thought, but for now- she is content to remain on the warm sand. Reesa laughs, too, reaching up to tug a hand through her hair. "What- what /was/ it like?" she asks, leaning forward expectantly. "E'ten- he wouldn't tell me. Is it as scary as they say? Like you have no control over what you- feel?" It's the latter question that makes her visibly hesitate, gaze quickly cutting away- to the dragons as well, since that's easy. They make it easy. "I- I don't mind it here. I think Khiabeth likes it better than me. I like the weather hotter than this. I'd like to go back to Ista, maybe, one day. But-" a darted glance, back to N'rad, quick to add, "Not without you and Serah. If you wanted. /One/ day." « Water does not prevent flying. Sometimes we fly /through/ the water, » Maldoranth counters, though the thought is elongated somehow, like a feline's stretch, slow and easy. He must be picking up on the green's electricity, despite the languid thoughts, because the whirling in his eyes has not slowed down since he left the water, and his wings are still held just slightly aloft. "E'ten was probably just embarrassed," N'rad declares, though he's hedging on sharing more thoughts beyond that at first, shifting his sandy seat a little bit before risking a glance at Reesa. "It was... well. My own experience was pretty messed up. Been able to keep Mal out of it since then, but uh... yeah. It's like you're aware right up until... um. You're not." Helpful bronzerider. "I was all alone, though," he's quick to add, turning a little pink, "so... y'know. He couldn't have actually caught or something." That's surely how these things work. « It is not /fast/, » Khiabeth retorts, with an increase of pressure, certainty weighting the words. « If you go still in the water you sink. In the air you can fly forever. » Once you find a thermal anyway, but technicalities; the green loves the air. Reesa, for once, is still while N'rad explains, fixed and attentive, taking in his expression as much as his words. It earns a little shiver, though whether it's anticipation or dread is difficult to determine, since her gaze quickly drops. "He /might/ have. High Reaches' often seem to end up with weyrling Weyrleaders. Maybe next time Elaruth rises...?" a quick, darted glance, as if to determine what he thinks of that. "They'd leave you alone then." Them, and everyone, presumably. N'rad quickly shakes his head. "I want none of that. Weyrleaders don't get left alone. They get bothered all the /time/. Get a fancy knot, you lose all your free time," he says, voice lowering to a faint grumble as he leans back again. "Saw that enough at Southern Boll. Seems even more true, here." He falls silent while Maldoranth fills the gap with a low, thrumming sort of humph as he shifts on the sand. Once the bronze has settled again, N'rad frowns at Reesa slightly. "You worried? About when she goes up?" "I guess," Reesa concedes, slowly. "But you could tell people to go away, and they'd have to listen. Everyone does what the Weyrleader says." Except for the Weyrwoman, but she doesn't bother elaborating on that point. "No," the blonde girl's quick to answer his question, and /almost/ as quick to rescind it, because it's him, "Yes," she admits, with an uncomfortable shift of her shoulders, her gaze on her dragon. "But Khiabeth will know what to do." She has every faith in her dragon, if nothing else. "All I need to do is keep her from feeding, and go along for the ride- right?" It's an attempt at light dismissiveness, even if it doesn't quite ring true. "Um... I don't know, actually," N'rad admits, definitely uncomfortable. Holdbred boy is holdbred. "I mean, I know they've gone over it in class, but I just kept flashing on that /one/ time, and... shells." At this point, he just flops onto his back and stares up at the summer sky. "Some of this rider stuff is so weird." Maldoranth objects slightly with a huff, then lays his head down in the sand. It /is/ so nice and warm, after all. His wings finally start to droop slightly. "I saw plenty of flights at Ista Weyr," Reesa says, and apparently this makes her some sort of expert. She brushes sand off her dress, glancing towards N'rad as he flops onto his back, and grinning. "Yeah," she agrees, "It /is/ weird. But good. I wouldn't- change it. For anything." She doesn't need to glance at Khiabeth for it to be obvious what she's talking about. The dragon in question's dozing, or close enough to make no difference, lids firmly closed. A hesitation, then the blonde asks tentatively, "Would you? I mean, if it weren't for your family..." N'rad swallows hard, his eyes nearly the same color as the sky they're reflecting. After a long, slow breath, he shakes his head and laces his hands over his stomach. "Now he's in my life, I can't imagine him not being there. Even when it was really hard. And it was /really/ hard for a while," he shares with a glance toward Reesa, but then he's staring at the sky again. "Never even considered it before... before everything that happened." Even alone on the beach, he won't say it out loud. Not here, anyway. "I need to find them. Don't even know if..." They're alive? "If my parents know where I am. Or if they're in trouble. Or /anything/." It's in the emphasis on that last word that a glimmer of pained frustration leaks through. There's a faint relief visible in Reesa's gaze, like perhaps she might've thought the answer would be otherwise. It earns a genuine smile from the blonde, though it fades with his latter words. After a moment, she shifts her legs, and flops out onto the sand next to him, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun. "We just have to play along for a bit longer, N'rad," she murmurs, sidelong. "You, and me, and Serah. Then they'll let us having our freedom- they have to, we're /riders/," a definite emphasis there. "And then we'll go see. We all will, okay? They'll be fine. I know it." N'rad takes another deep breath, one echoed by Maldoranth, whose eyes are now fully closed. "I'm feeling kind of torn now, though. It's been... really nice to be a part of the Weyr. I miss the ocean like crazy, but nothing says we can't visit it. But, I don't know--." He cuts himself off to sit up on his elbows, glancing around them quickly before he settles back down. "I guess I don't get what their big problem was. With the Weyr. Or Weyrs in general. I /get/ independence, but the /dragons/... they need each other. Mal /needed/ Fort. It's the whole reason we came here like we did." There's a long silence from Reesa. She didn't have a hard a time of it as N'rad and Maldoranth, but then maybe that's due to her Weyrbred upbringing? "He had Khiabeth, and Nazguwynth and... Yalzurth." Her voice hitches only a little at the mention of the blue, but otherwise remains level. She's silent for moments more, but finally, "Khiabeth likes it here with all the dragons, too. But, don't you see? We don't get to do what we want, not like we did /there/. They won't even let us get our own weyrs, and we've been riding longer than any other weyrling has." N'rad's breath goes out in a rush as he closes his eyes against the sunlight. "Yeah, I guess... it's not like there's Thread or something. But... I don't know, Rees," he continues, pausing as he sits up, though he doesn't bother brushing off the sand. "Back at the Hold, I just kind of drifted, day in and day out. And I thought that was great. It was freedom in its own way. But then with... the others, it was freedom, but..." He waves a hand to the side slightly, less gesturing to something, more indicating he can't quite find the words. "Here, though... I know my place, and even when it sucks sometimes, I know where I stand. Where Maldoranth stands. And there's still freedom, we just have to... to earn it first. Or something." "If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have Maldoranth. I wouldn't have Khiabeth." And that is probably the crux of Reesa's standpoint on things, if the heat with which she says it is anything to go by. She, too, sits up, beginning to dust sand off herself more as a distraction than anything else. "Don't you see? They keep telling us that- we have to earn it. And then we'll be put in a wing, and we'll have to earn our place in /that/. It doesn't end, and it's /never enough/." By the last, the greenrider's on her feet, huffing out a breath and trying to shake off her discomfort. "They'll pretend welcome us, eventually, but they'll always consider us outsiders, N'rad." By the look on N'rad's face, Reesa has hit the nail on the head with that last one. His expression falls, eyes growing dull as he looks over the lake. Then he, too, is getting to his feet. He tugs at the back of his shirt to dislodge some of the sand and runs a hand through his hair, but that's about it. Sand is a way of life at Boll. "I'm so tired of the dirty looks," he says in a quiet voice, his low tone indicating just how much it hurts. Enough that Maldoranth opens his eyes again to regard the two riders. "Maybe... a place on the beach. Out of the way. Southern, or..." But talk of moving on doesn't seem to help. His jaw clenches before that also fades. "In any case, I'm still not done learning. And Mal and I keep getting better at being-- being /us/, I guess. But they've gotta cut us loose sometime soon." There's enough sympathy in Reesa's expression to suggest he isn't the only one, with his mention of those looks. "Me too," she whispers, barely audible. Her gaze momentarily lightens as he speaks of beaches, of other places, but that's fanciful enough that even the blonde doesn't voice agreement aloud on that. "We'll stay, as long as you need. And then we'll figure out what to do," she says, by way of reassurance, before exhaling. "I should," she glances down at her dress, now oil-covered and sand-covered," get changed before afternoon lessons. Are you going to be okay?" She's looking squarely at N'rad, hand half outstretched towards him, though she knows his preferences for personal space well enough by now to not to be offended by the lack of reciprocation. N'rad breaks the personal space rule long enough to barely tap Reesa's outstretched hand, fingers to fingers. "Yeah. Thanks for the chat, Reesa. It always helps." He gives her a small smile, then turns his attention to the dragons. He might have been urging Maldoranth to get up, because the bronze does so a moment later, though not without a snort. He turns toward the water again to rinse off the sand while sharing an abstract sort of thought with Khiabeth that would translate to hopefulness that the lesson would be out in the hills. Somewhere sunny and warm. Then his thoughts are submerged with the water while N'rad goes to work trying to make himself presentable for those lessons. The touch of fingers, brief as it is, earns a brilliant smile from Reesa. "You too. I'll see you at the lesson." Khiabeth rouses with some reluctance, but Maldoranth thought, at least, seems to cheer her, her agreement immediate as she sends back a thought of rolling green hills. They give such good thermals to play in, after all. And then she and Reesa are heading up to the shared weyr with Serah to change. |
Leave A Comment