Logs:Out Of Control
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| RL Date: 18 December, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Jocelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh and Jocelyn bond over their circumstances and discuss the future. |
| Where: Jocelyn's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 7, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Ethran/Mentions, Drex/Mentions, Leova/Mentions, A'rist/Mentions, Lys/Mentions, Silva/Mentions, Mirinda/Mentions |
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| Late afternoon finds Jocelyn carrying a stack of records and folders with a determined gait. Although her demeanor is that of a woman on a mission, she spares the occasional nod in the corridors for passerby - and for Farideh, in the main hallway, a more substantial hello. Dragonhealing research and homework, she explains of her cargo if asked, and has several questions of her own about the other goldrider's experience during this period of her own training. There's an awkward inquiry after Ethran, and a gruffly-issued invitation for carrying on their conversation in the redhead's weyr; after all, she's yet to host the younger woman in her own domicile. "I'm still trying to get used to the amount of space, " Jocelyn says over her shoulder as she strides through the entryway to deposit her bundle onto the table in the outermost room. It's nowhere near as cozy as Farideh's weyr, more austere and certainly not kept as warm. But those chairs near the bookshelf look inviting enough, and it's there to which the weyrling tilts her head. "Sit down, if you'd like. I can order us something if you'd like a snack." Invitations aren't pouring in these days, not for a post-pregnancy goldrider without access to the outside world, and so when the other goldrider puts forth the offer, it's a foregone conclusion that Farideh would accept. "It's difficult to get used to when you're familiar with the resident dorms and the weyrling barracks after all this time." She moseys in after the redhead, fingers clasped in front of her cerulean-blue skirts. "I'm not hungry at the moment, but thank you, Jocelyn. We're equals. You don't have to play hostess to me," she replies, sitting down gracefully with an amused smile for the other woman. "It's lovely, of course," fingers flicking outward to gesture to the interior of the newly-refurnished weyr. "It's starting to feel less quiet now that I've been here for a little bit, " agrees Jocelyn, "but for the first seven after I moved in, I dragged a pillow and some blankets over to Aidavanth's couch so that I could still have that familiarity while everything else smelled and sounded different. It still feels like too much, but I hear that it's space for which I'll eventually find good uses, if not right away." She's sorting through her research materials while she speaks, turning once she's finished to offer Farideh a small shrug. Pragmatically, "No, I don't have to host you. But I need to get in the practice here and there, so thank you for indulging me that small amount." She disappears briefly to move a stack of her materials into her study, returning some moments later with an extra glowbasket to add to the main cavern before taking the seat across from Roszadyth's. "I trust Ethran and Flopsy, " the sheep, perhaps, "are becoming fast friends?" "Truly?" Hazel eyes, shining with gaiety, lift to Jocelyn. "I suppose I've always been used to space, until I came to High Reaches, and it was a-- welcome change." Farideh's fingers play on the folds on her skirts, smoothing and pleating, repeating, as she gives the weyr more of a scrutinizing look. "Meetings, guests, relaxation, sex," just to name a few. "You should. You'll have to allow me to indulge myself one day and teach you the small etiquette. It's not essential, but--" And just like that, her head turns and she smiles at the other weyrwoman. "Fast friends. They put him to sleep with it, in the nursery." Jocelyn permits herself a wry curve of amused smile. "I'm sure it was, for you both. We were getting - conscious of impinging on the spaces of others, especially as she grew to be about the size of a fully-grown version of her green sisters who were sleeping on either side of us." Pale eyes catch on those pleat-repleat-repeat movements, and it's an appraising glance that they give to Farideh while she's examining the weyr. Meetings, guests, relaxation - that last, however, elicits a grimace from the weyrwoman-in-training, who is all too happy to seize upon the next nearest subject. "If you believe it will make a difference, I'll be all ears, " she says briskly of the small etiquette, expression turning pleased afterward for the imagery of Ethran and Flopsy, fast asleep. "Excellent." "I had noticed that Aidavanth appears large-- larger-- I don't remember Roszadyth being that big, but then-- I can't quite imagine her as little anymore either." Farideh is watching the other woman, even as she shifts the fabric against her legs, and so she sees the expressions. "It's nothing spectacular," she responds, bypassing the topic of sex, for now, "just simple things that might make a difference, or might not. I am sure you could see the advantages of coming off as polite and well-mannered as possible, to all types of guests, not just those who reside in weyrs." Her smile widens. "Tucked right in beside him. He's too young yet to grasp things on his own, but they say it brings him some small comfort." "I used to be able to hold her in my lap, at first. She was so small - well, larger still than say, Evyth or Zaisyreth, but the differences weren't very stark in those early days and weeks." Jocelyn's subsequent, "If there's one thing the harpers have managed to firmly drill into my brain over the past few months, it's that sometimes the smallest of things can make all the difference in some scenarios, depending on the personalities involved, " is a positive enough response, even if turns reluctant at its conclusion. "I know that I need to get good at these things. Not too good, I suppose, " with an odd, almost-wary tone. "But good enough to reflect - well." A brief, nostalgic look passes over Farideh's face as she listens to the weyrling speak about a young and small Aidavanth. "Everyone expects you to grow up so fast, but they're only so small once and then your life is never as simple nor as easy as when they're new," could as easily be talking about children, but in this instance, dragons. "You don't have to be great at everything, Jocelyn, but there are things you should be able to understand and do on your own. Things to make others trust you and your intentions. You never know when you may be in a position to need it," she says, sitting up straighter. Jocelyn's lips purse faintly. "They do complicate things, don't they." It's an observation that lacks bite, couched in dryly expressed affection for those no-longer babies with wings. "Do you ever wish that Roszadyth had been shelled - any other color than what she is?" It's almost a non-sequitur. "Wonder, even, how much - easier it could have been, on some fronts, to have had more control over our futures?" Her tone isn't exactly wistful, but it's certainly a thoughtful one. The change of topic requires deeper thought, and it's evident both in her expression and her pause before speaking again. "It was exactly what I expected. I thought brown, or green, and world full of possibilities and adventures. No responsibilities and no expectations thrust upon me, but Roszadyth changed all that. I used to think about that a lot. Nothing can change that, now," Farideh says, the last bit quietly. "I, " reflects Jocelyn soberly, "expected nothing so that any positive outcome would have been a pleasant surprise. If no one found me by my fifth stand, there'd certainly have been little point in trying again." But that future didn't come to pass, and the one that did only produced new, greater responsibilities. "For all that we have to wield as pairs, and - I suppose there are plenty who would call some of the requirements of our jobs 'perks, ' we really don't have the freedom of possibilities, do we? How we act; who we're with; what we say: so much has to be thought through. And through a twist of circumstances - well. Fort's new senior was a junior at Monaco one day, and the next - Weyrwoman, and transferred so far from home. I doubt it would have been alright for her to say 'thanks, but no thanks.'" Sobering conversations are sobering. "I suppose it's all in how you view the situation, Jocelyn. You can turn our lack of freedoms into plenty of possibilities. You will likely never be denied entrance into any Weyr or Hold on Pern, and receive respect as befits your position. You can become renowned for any manner of things. You could create and enforce things, and be anyone you want to be, but-- you're right. We'll always be on display and everything we do will come at a price. I believe Irianke looks it as an opportunity rather than a burdon." Farideh lets her back drop against the back of the chair, her posture at once less straight. "Anything can happen at any time. You should be prepared to go if told to do so." "It's weighty no matter how one would look at it." The redhead's visible lack of optimism only grows as Farideh speaks; her forehead is pinched by that last part, arms folding across her chest firmly. "That's it then, isn't it? 'Don't worry of a future that may or may not come to pass, weyrling, '" she mimics in the manner of their superior. "She knew that would result in just the opposite, " is the realization that swiftly follows, and Jocelyn's expression blazes for all of a moment before she inhales, exhales, pushing the breath out forcefully. "I don't want to ride for anywhere else, " she admits, leaning back into her seat as if by pressing so, she could will it to swallow her frame for a time. "And it bothers me that I don't have control over that." "What are you going on about?" Farideh is suddenly churlish, staring at the other goldrider from beneath furrowed brows. "Throughout history -- have you read the tomes? -- goldriders are transferred for political alliance, political gain, or other scenarios. Aidavanth wasn't supposed to happen. We had two in a time when two was more than enough and now-- now we have a spare. K'del says there may come a time, but that time is not now, and besides--" She flicks an imaginary fuzz off her skirt. "I doubt you have very much to worry about." Jocelyn's shoulders stiffen. "Well, she did, and that can't be undone. Surely there are also advantages to having - wait, he said that?" Suddenly, the fledgling goldrider leans forward, gaze sharp. "I think I have plenty to worry about when the Weyrwoman slides a remark like, 'Monaco only has one gold' into our first discussion of how my training should proceed." Suspicion and curiosity war briefly over her visage; the latter wins out, with lips pursing faintly. "And you think you do? Why?" Farideh doesn't look surprised by that admission, and regards Jocelyn neutrally, for now. "Irianke likes to test people and see how they react to certain things. I have no doubt that she brought it up to gauge how you'd respond, and in what aspects she should focus your training. You may, eventually, be transferred for gain. Irianke was traded by Igen, herself." Then, she sighs, giving her head a little shake. "If you were going to make an advantageous transfer, for affiliation or goods, but especially for political allegiance, would you send the barely trained goldrider or the one who's already adept and ready to sink her feet into foreign territory and -- once can hope -- aide both Weyrs at the same time?" "Point, " concedes Jocelyn for Farideh's argument, making a face for the realization that she's, indeed, predictably reactional to Irianke's assessments. "But perhaps it would also be advantageous for someone to keep that already adept goldrider. Send the one who's newly trained, who doesn't want to move to foreign territory, knowing that her drive to return could end up a significant motivation to do well." She deflates a little, shoulders hunching forward. "How did she handle your training?" "You rely on the pretense that Irinake would ever make you those promises, that you could as easily come back. It is markedly better to put High Reaches groomed goldriders at Weyrs where they have a chance to become senior in their own right, or make allowances and deals within the political climate in allegiance with High Reaches. I wouldn't put someone so new, new adverse, into that spot," Farideh answers, candidly, but then she has a half-smile for the weyrling. "More strenuous than yours, but you have to remember that they did not know if Roszadyth or Niahvth would rise first. I started early and had to learn lower caverns management too. I spent a lot of time with Leova, learning about influence, too." Jocelyn's expression turns considering as she leans back again, the motion more deliberate. "No, I suppose you're right." Fingers drum a quick-paced pattern across one of the arms of the armchair, even as eyebrows lift briefly. "I can't imagine living with the pressure of that particular uncertainty, " she says at some length, thoughtfully. Of influence, "We're starting to cover that in our lessons, too, " her and Leova. "You said something to me in the days after Aidavanth hatched - that you hoped it wouldn't be hard. You knew it would be, to go from Impression to - all of these considerations." That's a matter-of-fact statement; those considerations are what they are, now. "You've grown up a lot since we first met. I, " a small throat-clearing, "appreciate your candor and the advice you've given along the way." Hazel eyes narrow, but her lips quirk in a fuller smile. "You're already talking as though I'm gone," Farideh points out, though how much is teasing is indeterminable. "I know how hard it was for me. Irianke has always been someone that I've leaned on, perhaps too much. It isn't her job to make sure that I grow up and do my duties, it isn't her job that I find clarity and acceptance for my life. It's not anyone's but our own. At least-- I have the perspective, so new, of what you're going through. It's hard, even given all of that." She pauses, looking at Jocelyn sympathetically -- for all that she's just pointed out her own possible future transfer. "Have you given a thought to flights yet, Jocelyn?" "I'm not very good at - " A breath is released, slowly. " - being expressive. Not like Aidavanth, " who openly displays her affection for her closer acquaintances - and for Roszadyth, whose presence the orange-gold has warmly welcomed since infancy. "It's something I probably should have said sooner." Jocelyn listens quietly until the mention of flights - frowns, then, for that shift in topic. "Not as many as I apparently should, " is her wary reply. Another thing to resign herself to, says that small lift and drop of her shoulders. "I know that I need to get used to the idea of living through one, and not just as a bystander." A glance flicks toward the dragon's couch, currently empty, then back to Farideh. "Irianke gave me a primer. The biggest point she impressed upon me: I won't know what to expect until we're there. How we'd act." She breaks off there, mouth thinning. A wave of the brunette's hand dismisses Jocelyn's concerns, but when it comes to flights, she sits up and leans forward, her face serious. "How you'd act? You mean, yourself? How you feel when she's glowing? I wouldn't worry about that so much, but have you-- I don't think you have, but you should-- Jocelyn, don't wait until your first flight to have sex for the first time." Farideh exhales softly. "Aidavanth could be caught by literally anyone, and they're-- you never know what could happen in there, if they could--" Really, it's as difficult for her to talk about this, too! "You should get it over with so it's not such a shock and you know what to expect before she rises." And just like that, Jocelyn almost shuts down. "I don't - " is small and awkward, pale gaze falling to where her hands now fiddle uncomfortably together, fingers twisting where they're knotted in her lap. Haltingly, "How? There isn't - a someone. I don't want the experience, which I understand will make it more difficult. I refuse to give some random person the satisfaction of being the one who - " Her cheeks flush faintly. "You had someone. That must have been easier." Farideh face reflects the awkwardness of the redhead, but she stays tensely leaning forward. "Drex was not my first. It made what happened with A'rist easier. I knew what to expect, what was normal and-- sometimes," patiently explaining, "they're not all that gentle. They, you, get caught up in flight lust, but if you do it before, you have control over your first time." Control. That's something Jocelyn can understand. So after some minutes pass, there's a tiny nod for Farideh, even if her attention remains on her beige pants, just above the sweatstains that she's unknowingly adding to the fabric as her hands remain tensely folded there. "I'll - take that into consideration." It's a diplomatic answer; polite enough, but vague. If she's made up her mind to go through with it, there's little indication of her taking such a direction. There's an unhappy frown, though, and it lingers. In a comforting gesture, a hand is reached towards Jocelyn's to squeeze briefly before retreating. "All of it is scary and new, but it's not quite as bad as it seems at first and it only happens once every two to three turns in most cases. You have time to figure it out," Farideh says, and then scoots to the edge of her seat. "I think I've overstayed my welcome. There are things yet to do." She smiles at the weyrling. "Your weyr is lovely, Jocelyn. Thank you for indulging me." Rising, she sets about shaking out her skirts and patting her hair. "If you have any more questions, or concerns, you know where I am," is her last, with a pointed stare for emphasis. Jocelyn's mouth twitches faintly for that comforting squeeze, gray eyes lifting to meet Farideh's gaze afterward. Dryly, "I guess it's just as well that they aren't green." The set of her shoulders relaxes a smidgen; there's time yet to put it aside for other priorities. "It'd be impractical not to, " says she of the indulging. "We aren't strangers." Still, there's an exhale and a subsequent nod, and the redhead gets to her feet in the other goldrider's wake. "Our best to you both, " is what she opts to say on the tail end of that pointed stare, even managing a brief, polite smile that's only a little strained. Practicing, again. "Have a good rest of your day, what's left of it." |
Comments
Irianke (21:26, 18 December 2015 (PST)) said...
Oh dear. Oh dear.
I also think it is funny Farideh outright tells Jocelyn to make sure her first time isn't a flight since Irianke assumes a woman of Jocelyn's age and breeding in a Weyr would have already had sex many times over.
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