Logs:Odds, Choices and Doubts
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| RL Date: 20 October, 2015 |
| Who: Everett, Lycinea, Serin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After the mixer has died down, a couple candidates talk deep thoughts as they reflect on not Impressing. |
| Where: Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Someone please add the poses that came after I left! <3 |
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>---< Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#378RJs) >---------------------<
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub
of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's
staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well
back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before
the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or
just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters
throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain
wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish,
though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the
table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the
glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled
scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness
of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private
quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from
drafts.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Everett M 20 6'2" fit, brown hair, blue eyes 5m
Lycinea F 20 5'5" slender, blonde hair, blue-green eyes 0s
Serin M 21 6'1" slim, blond hair, blue eyes 15s
----------------------------------< Exits >--------------------------------- For his part, Everett has done his best to mingle, if not to dance, until the number of people has dwindled, and dwindled, and then there's just Ev, feet up in front of the fire, with a glass that used to have something in it, talking about cards with a boy a few years younger who suddenly has to make his departure because some girl is doing likewise with her friends. He could, of course, leave. He could get up. Getting up seems to require too much effort, at this stage, compared to sitting there and staring at the hearth. He can do broody. Sometimes. Given the way that Lycinea is skulking into the common room, head down and glances that determine her path through the space decidedly furtive as if just looking will draw enough attention that she won't be able to slip into the barracks unnoticed. This much marks her as not the mixer sort. However, finding the common room largely abandoned, she stops short to give a good look 'round; it might be a trap. In the end, she angles toward the fire, flopping herself into a chair with a groan, heedless of the fact that Everett is trying to do broody in the next chair over. "Long day?" Eyebrows raised, Everett gives a look over at the girl. "I feel as though I've just been minding someone else's children, past few hours. Think I might have been the only one over eighteen to come. Younger ones had a great time, seemed like. Don't know what I was expecting. Thought it'd help to get my mind off things. I think something stronger to drink would have gone further." Too much sharing to be doing properly broody, that's for sure. He straightens up, finally pulls his feet down, slow like they've been there long enough for even twenty-year-old joints to get stiff. Missed it, oh darn. Serin was busy, you know, doing stuff and things and not at all avoiding large mixers of candidates. He even peers around the corner before coming in, as though looking to see if Silva is gone. Once he feels 'safe', he walks into the room and invites himself to take a seat near the hearth as well and attempts to look like he was here the whole time. Nope, no furitive glances looking around or anything - or, maybe a few. He has some fruit he brought with him from the kitchens, which he quickly takes a bite of. Can't ask questions when his mouth is full. "No longer than any of the rest," Lycinea answers, letting her head loll toward him so she can eye the boy in turn. "Like assisting the nannies but with fewer bows in your hair at the end?" The blond queries with a lift of a single brow at Everett. "Which things are you trying to escape?" There's just enough emphasis on the word 'you' to recognize that everyone's had their own thoughts since Niahvth's hatching. As Serin sits, he gets a speculative eyeing by the blonde before she shifts to start unlacing her boots. "Serin," acknowledging, but not judging, not Everett. Not after the fact. "Hey." Now that he's sitting up properly, Everett looks at his glass, sighs, sets it back down just as empty as it was before. "I just want to get through all this," he tells Lycinea, "and if it means getting back to life as it was before, better sooner than later." One of them tapping on the stone, as solid as it gets. "I start to wonder, you know? But I guess everyone wonders." And if they don't, hopefully they won't disabuse him of this notion, his tone suggests. "No point backing out now, is there?" Serin apparently walked into Deep Thoughts, by Everett. But, he has a mouth full of fruit by the time he's addressed and just gives a bit of a nod to Everett before glancing at Lycinea. He's been around, honest. Just been busy, or something. Once the bite of fruit is finished, he says, "Hey Everett, and.. uh.." He fumbles for Lycinea's name but just isn't getting it. He offers nothing on the waxing philosophical about staying or not staying in candidacy. Instead, he pushes off his shoes and pulls his feet up into the chair as well and sighs. "Serin," Lya addresses the blond man offhandedly, not providing her own name, helpfully. Her eyes flick back to Everett. "Well, no, there is a point. The difference between taking one more chance out there and not." This delivery is candid, "So you just have to decide, take the chance again or not. Dragons don't give credit for candidacy. Look at Jocelyn, Standing five times and not Impressing once. Look at Rh'mis who didn't Stand at all and still Impressed." She shrugs before asking Serin, "Was this your first time Standing, too? Having any second thoughts?" Please, join the Deep Thoughts (Lycinea will gladly toss him into the deep end). "Jocelyn. She was through here, earlier. Didn't stop." Everett shakes his head, slightly, at that. "Get the impression she doesn't want much to do with anyone else. Suppose she has her own friends. I mean, so do I, but if you might end up having to live with folks awhile, seems like it's a good idea to at least get used to having them around. Not that they're fascinating, but hey. I was sixteen, once." Years and years and years ago. It was so long. Seriously. Soooo loooong. "I told myself I'd give it one shot. I guess turns out to be two shots, this time. If it doesn't happen, it's not meant to happen. Still. I know they got enough for two clutches--odds are better for this next one, right?" "Yep, first time. No second thoughts. Well, maybe a little. But, nothing to make me think of not going through with it." Serin says with a shrug, sinking more into the chair and slumping in a position that hardly looks comfortable at all. "Happy with my craft, curious about what happens on the sands and will be pleased with either outcome. Great place to be, right?" He asks but obviously doesn't expect an answer as he shoves more fruit into his mouth and peers between the two. "Dragons make up their own minds, don't think it matters if there's two clutches or five - your chances are only good if your dragon is on the sands." Lycinea's helpful, echoing Serin's sentiment, "The odds are always the same. One dragon for you. It's a fifty-fifty shot. Either your dragon is in one of the eggs, or it isn't. Looking at it with any other odds is just how those taking bets sucker you into laying down more marks." She even flashes a big, sweet smile. (The kind a sucker would buy as genuine.) "For what it's worth, I almost gave in my knot after," that sober sharing might be an attempt to bond. And if Lycinea is in danger of bonding with anyone, it's obviously time to press herself up out of her chair to snag her boots. "Anyway, since I kept it," the knot, "there are chores in the morning." With that, she's heading for the barracks. |
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