Logs:One Of Us
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| RL Date: 22 May, 2011 |
| Who: Celadion, Emmeline, Rilka |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rilka ruins things. |
| Where: Beach, Western Island |
| When: Day 28, Month 10, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| It's just after dinner, so still light out enough for those who like to walk off their meager meal. But also late enough in the day that there's no further call for chores except the dinner crew. Of which Emme isn't a part of today, so she's found wandering along the shore where land meets water. The group of boulders that can be used to get to one of the other islands is apparently her destination, since her steps are taking her that way. They make a good place to sit and watch rising moons too. Rilka wasn't present for dinner; indeed, she hasn't been around much at all, of late, except to drop in her catch and disappear again. Even her roommates have probably barely seen her. But she's visible, now, pottering around the edge of the rockpools with a driftwood stick in one hand; she's humming, just barely audible over the low splash of waves against rock and sand. A ways up the beach a few young men have gathered and are playing a simple game that includes a stick and a rock and stick in which they try to knock the rock with the stick as they run to one edge of beach to get it past a goal line. It's a familiar game that has led to a great many nose bleeds but also keeps the rowdy young men from getting into trouble when they have 'down time'. Down time might be rare, but on nights like this eveing, it's perfect to get in a game to burn off some of that restless steam. During one of the goals, Celadion lets out a cheerful cry as his team mate makes the point and jogs out of the formation to get a drink from one of the mugs tucked into a spot along the sand and out of harms way. He gives a wave towards Rilka and Emmeline after his hearty gulp. "Hey Rilka." Emmeline's voice whistles across the short distance to give the greeting, just as her footsteps make a quiet splash in the water near the rockpools. "Haven't seen you around much. Is everything alright?" The group of boys gathered and playing the stick and rock game are hard to miss, given the raucous noise and constant movement. So Celadion's wave doesn't go unnoticed either! She waves back, a polite smile on her face, before her attention is drawn back to the other girl with her. Although closer to Emmeline than Celadion - at least as far as actual proximity is concerned - it's as though Rilka hasn't noticed the younger girl at all, for all that she's been addressed by her. Instead, her humming comes to a lilting stop so that, half-crouched, she can watch the boys at their game, her gaze narrowed in to something undeniably thoughtful. There's a rock just a few steps away from her; now, without saying a word, she crosses that distance, giving it a good /whack/ with her stick - enough to send it flying off towards the beach, albeit probably not far enough to actually hit anyone. Probably. Celadion takes another drink from his mug and then wipes his mouth and his brow with the back of his hand. "Hey, you're a pretty good hit. You could join us." Yes, the strke of stick to rock doens't go unnoticed. The players still on the field are arranging themselves for the next round, some people departing and others joining up after a break. It seems that Cela is going to sit this next round out. Emmeline should be used to this. But she still stifles a sigh when Rilka goes on as if she never said a word. " Hello Emme, everything is fine. How nice to see you!" the harper fills in the conversation for her. Right up until the girl swings her stick and makes a nice hit on the rock. Emmeline and Celadion both earn a wide, vacant stare in response: the former because she's clearly having a conversation with herself and the latter because-- "Me? The rocks don't go where I want them to. They fly, though." Which seems to make her relatively happy, at least. Having said that, she glances back at Emmeline, and beckons her closer, adding, "You should try, too. Maybe all the rocks can fly away." Celadion gives the game a sudden look, disapointment forming around the corners of his mouth as he realizes that he's going to miss out on the match to have a talk with the vacant-eyed crazy girl. He takes another long drink from his mug before trying to jump into this particular conversation. "The rocks only fly if you wack them." "I'm not so sure about that. Rocks don't fly very far for me. Maybe I just don't talk to them properly first." If you're going to dive into conversation with someone a little crazy, you may as well really get into the part right? Emmeline just smiles, not at all perturbed by the strange conversation. "So who's winning the game?" That winds up directed at Celadion. It is, at least, a normal question. "Oh, you /do/ have to encourage them," agrees Rilka, placid despite the way she smiles. If she's aware of Celadion's disappointment, she doesn't show it; instead, she takes a couple of steps forward, wielding her stick in a way that could well be dangerous to other people's health. "What are you drinking?" Lucky Celadion. Interrogation instead of a game. Celadion bends and scoops up one of the rocks near his feet, tossing it in his hand. Perhaps he's demonstrating just how he can make a rock fly just by throwing it. The stone skips through the top most waves and banishes in the rolling surf. "We are making a good show of coming back, but the other team has the higher score." This to Emmeline's question about who's winning. As for what he's drinking? The crafty smile should be all the answer anyone needs but he answers, "The green stuff. Want some?" Offering out the mug to Rilka. At first Emmeline's just sort of quiet, watching the rock skip acros the water before being swallowed up. And then hearing of this 'green' stuff, which must mean that fermented seaweed drink that tastes worse then anything the cooks have ever managed to burn to a crisp. "Well I hope both teams are drinking it, or that's your problem right there." she jokes, watching Rilka from the corner of her eye to see if the girl decides to take a good swig of it. Rilka does accept the mug, though the most she does is give it a delicate sniff; the wrinkle of her nose is plenty indication as to what she thinks of it! What she does next is - well, probably at least a little unexpected. She tips the mug over, spilling the rest of the green liquor onto the sand. "It inhibits the mind," she says. "It isn't natural. No wonder you are losing." /Then/, she hands the mug back. The Green stuff is just as volatile as it is disgusting tasting. When has bad taste ever stopped people from drinking something that's going to numb the senses a bit? He's all grins, until his drink is being poured out onto the sand. "What are you /doing/?" He tries to stop her when it's obvious she's going to waste it and then throws his hands into the hair with a sigh. Across the field, some of the lads who are also taking a break to have their drink bark out a taunting laugh at him. "Of -course- it inhibits the mind you stupid. Crazy. Twit." Yanking the mug from her hand he glares at her. "And, wasting resourses because you think you are going to teach me something, doesn't do anything for your cause." Not that there was much left to dump out. Emmeline looks about to step forward to grab the mug from Rilka before she can dump the contents, but... too late. "Name calling isn't really going to help either, is it." she points out dryly at Celadion. "Just get more if there's any left and don't give her the cup this time." Of course, there's no real way to make Rilka see why some people enjoy the mind-numbing that comes with drinking the fermented stuff. But hey, since when has that ever stopped the harper from babbling. "It's entirely natural." is countered lightly. "It's just fermented. There's nothing which goes into it that the Island doesn't provide. But it does inhibit the mind. Sometimes we want a little escape, that's all Rilka." Although Rilka is unfazed by Celadion's creation - indeed, she smiles at him - Emmeline's draws more of a reaction: she turns to face the harper, and rolls her eyes. "we, we, we," she sing-songs, lazily meandering a few steps away, still swinging around that stick of hers. "You speak as if I'm not one of you. As if I don't belong. I don't need to escape. There's nothing wrong with me." Something in that is a challenge: the glance she aims back at the pair of them is meaningful, even outright scornful. Celadion tosses his now empty mug from hand to hand and sighs out his irritation, "Alright. I'm sorry. I should know better. But really? I mean, really." He looks at Rilka and then Emmeline, "But that was rude. We're just trying to have a good time." Someone down field is lifting their glass up at him in a toast and he makes a rude gesture at them and tosses the mug in that direction. "You aren't one of us Rilka. You don't join in our games, you ignore us most of the time when we talk to you and you act like you're beyond the rest of us. What do you expect?" There's kindness in his voice even if it's partnered with frustration. "No, I speak as if you're someone who doesn't want to do things the same way some others do. Nothing more, nothing less. You should know better then to accuse me of that, Rilka." Emme replies, her voice just sounding tired. Her lips curve upward just a little at the taunting being thrown Cel's way. But she makes no comment on it. Seems safer. "I've done enough arguing lately. So if that's all this is, maybe /I'll/ go play the stupid stick game and you two can bicker." Though the responses of her two companions incline more towards the kind, while still being honest, Rilka's face nonetheless falls, and she looks genuinely hurt by it. It takes her a moment to straighten her shoulders, to smooth out her expression; it will take longer to blink away the tears that appear in the corner of her eyes. "I'm not /mad/," she says, for all that they haven't actually accused her of that (this time). "I'm not. I'll leave you to your game." Apparently she really intends that, too, because as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she's turning to leave, to head off back down the beach in the other direction, far away from the cavorting young people. The well worn game stick is offered out to Emme, "It helps." He says to her, helps what, he doesn't explain. Then there's a moment of being torn between being a good guy and following after the other girl to make things better or lettig her escape gracefully. So far this evening he hasn't put his best foot forward. "Rilka." Now, Emme is just plain exasperated. "I didn't say there was anything /wrong/ with doing things differently!" She looks down at the handed-over game stick, obviously just as torn as Celadion is. Her guilty conscience, however, is so finely tuned that she'll not be able to sleep for days if she doesn't try to smooth this out. So the wooden stick is set aside - carefully - and she doesn't bother concealing the noise of steady walking to try and catch up. "Everyone is tense these days, after the big storm." Rilka turns back just once, tears streaming down her face as she regards Emmeline squarely. "Don't," she says, more firmly than is her usual way; more determined. "I want to be alone." And then she's off again, fleeing, her dark hair catching the light of the rising moons as it streams behind her. Celadion bends and takes up his game stick again and twirls it. There's no expression on his face as Rilka goes away. He gives a nearby rock a deft punt down the sand and starts to walk towards the players, even though he doesn't look like he's going to get back in. |
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