Logs:Perspective
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| RL Date: 2 January, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brieli seeks perspective from Z'ian. Or just some general info. Then he needs to find his clothes. |
| Where: Diving Cliff, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 9, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A light rainfall patters on and off throughout the day, making everything slick and gray and muddy. |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions |
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| Diving Cliff, High Reaches Weyr Thrusting out from the shadow of the mountain, this long and narrow clifftop might once have been a ledge, but a pile of bramble-strewn, graffiti-chiseled boulders where a weyr's mouth would have been suggests a reason for its abandonment long ago. Though its views of the eastern bowl are grand, particularly the lake itself and the yawning air entrance to the hatching sands, its location makes the diving cliff unique: jutting some ten or twelve feet above the deepest part of the cool, clear lake. Especially in summertime, many climb up the narrow stairs to seek the thrill of a swift fall into the water, but those who just want to enjoy the view can take those same stairs back down: carved directly into the bowl wall, worn and crumbling and slick from use, but enough for the careful to get the job done. The time is drawing closer to dinner than lunch now, the sun beginning to disappear towards the horizon partially obscured by the rain clouds that have been haunting the weyr most of the day. It's been scattered showers but still warm enough for people to lie to themselves that it's not quite into the colder days of autumn yet. Z'ian is one of those self-deceivers, resting along the rock ledge in his swimming trunks. While most of the others have quit the lake for the season, he's still been seen out there, enjoying the water. Only now he's wrapped up in a towel, watching the daylight slip away with his legs hanging over the edge. His hair is damp, evidence that he's probably only recently climbed back up here again. There's self-deceivers, and then there's just people that dress more warmly; they're scattered here and there, both smart Reaches lifers and people new enough to dig out sweaters and scarves at the slightest nip in the air. Those people certainly wouldn't be caught dead swimming - and though Brieli doesn't seem to be too armored against the chill, she's never been seen to dip a toe in the lake if she can help it anyway. Even so, here she finds herself on the diving cliff, boots as tall as her skirt is short, perhaps for the view. She's not expecting Z'ian to be part of it, but it doesn't seem to bother her as she offers the bronzerider a quiet, "Good afternoon." The sound of boots on stone steps reached his ears as she made her climb, most certainly. Because Z'ian turns just a moment or two before she arrives to catch a glimpse at who might be joining him up on the cliff. His expression is curious and maybe mildly surprised when he recognizes Brieli's form coming up the stairs. He reaches a hand up and back to ruffle his damp hair, then pulling the towel a little more tightly around his shoulders to ward off the growing chill in the air. "Afternoon. Here for the less than stellar sunset?" He asks, nodding his head in the direction of the overcast sky ahead of them. She might wear boots with softer soles than most - notably so - but Brieli's not trying to be silent as all that; at the surprise, there might be the brief arch of fine brows, but it fades. Looking out to the overcast skies spread out before them, the corner of her mouth quirks into something close to a smile. "One of many to come. No. I like to look out over things, and Iesaryth is not always inclined to move if she's comfortable. So..." There's an expansive gesture. "Somewhere between. Is the water still warm?" Her attention shifts back to Z'ian, polite. Z'ian's surprise is quick to disappear, may have been he just wasn't expecting much of anyone around right now. His fingers run along the edge of the towel, picking at the frayed ends that he finds. "Yeah, cold weather is on it's way for sure." He nods his head in understanding for the dragon that cannot be moved, mouth twitching in the hint of an amused smile. "No, not anymore. It has that chill to it now, like it knows that it won't be warm again for months." The bronzerider lifts his shoulders for the temperature of the water, out of his control. "But still bearable." He swings his legs over the ledge, looking away from her stare over the lake again. Taking a few steps, shifting to find a lean against a convenient boulder, "I can't say I'm looking forward to it. This will be my third winter here; they say that should get you used to it, but I have my doubts." Brieli looks down to the toes of her boots only to cross them at her ankles, wryly amused by her lack of tolerance for the cold at least. With a flicker of a glance to Z'ian, catching that amusement, "Is yours like that?" She'll peer down at the water, shivering despite the good reports, admitting, "I'd rather the ocean, honestly. How are you?" Z'ian leans back onto his hands, making it easier to tip his head up at her. "Lived in the area my entire life, I wouldn't say that being used to something means you enjoy it. You just sort of bear it until you thaw out again. It's damn cold up here." Thinking of Tsanth prompts a moment of quick laughter, "No, he's not. I wish that he could relax that, but I've seen other riders with dragons that favor similar dispositions." He glances down towards the water, "Hm. I enjoy the ocean, lake water is harder to swim in. It's what's here though." As for himself, "Damp, chilly." He tugs the towel off so that he can rub at his still wet hair. "Otherwise good. What about yourself?" Dryly, "Wonderful. So much to look forward to." Giving another little shiver, Brieli glances around to find herself a seat so Z'ian won't have to look up so far; adjusting her skirt fussily, "I suppose if it's a choice of not relaxing at all or too much, I'll take her being lazy. Balance." She even makes a little show of it, slender hands shifting heights until they level out. As for the lake, "It's here, but it's not as if we have to be all the time. And that's rather specific. Unless you're damp and chilly all the time, in which case, something ought to be done about living conditions." With a flash of a smile, "Me. Busy. I've been... having a lot of discussions. About the Weyr. People are opinionated." "At least you'll get really great at building snowmen during your turns here. That's something people at Igen can't say." His hair isn't so terribly shaggy that it should take much to work away most of the water, but he takes his time performing the task. "I enjoy being here. More than I enjoy being at places that have an ocean." Z'ian clarifies, mouth turning up in good humor. "You weren't specific with your 'how are you'. I took it to mean right now, not generally and in the long term." He shares the smile that she flashes at him, pulling the towel away from his head finally. He considers Brieli for a moment before his next response, just a short beat of a pause to think. "Are these discussions helping you?" "I wonder if they build sandmen instead. I suppose you'd need water for that. And building snowmen really requires more time outside than I'd like." Shrugging diffidently, Brieli leaves the issue of snow-or-sand-men alone for the time being, leaning over to rub a smudge from her boot. She likewise leaves the question of enjoyment alone as well, skipping right to, "Specifically, I'm well enough, but have nothing better to do with my time than pester off-duty riders." There's no smile, but dark eyes are bright enough, even for, "Some are. Well, no. All of them are. It's rather like mapping the terrain, yes? I wonder if anyone's bothered." And if the Weyr is terrain, certainly Z'ian is some sort of landmark. A hill, maybe. "Probably. I bet they feed them sand sandwiches served on slices of slate rock. Deserts, not my thing." Z'ian tacks on wryly at the end, just for some clarification. He folds the towel over and leaves it to drape across his lap. Finding purchase with his hands, he pulls himself back and draws his feet onto the cliff. "Oh, so it was my turn for pestering? Or do you look for the opportunity when you can get it?" He asks, mouth twisting into a mischievous grin, only countered by the more serious way he carries on the other portion of their conversation. "I think that people have been somewhat preoccupied recently. They probably haven't given the terrain a very detailed examination lately. Is it what you expected, mapping it?" Idly, "We went over there, at Turnover, to Igen. Just for a drink, in and out, since they'd been there for... graduation." Graduation. Rielsath's sudden flight that brought in such tragedy. Whatever. "I was curious, some of their riders had wanted to speak to Iolene." There's still a pause before Brieli can say the dead Weyrwoman's name, an odd flicker of guilt in dark eyes before she continues, with a smile, like she'd betrayed nothing. "A little of both, I suppose? Though I'm not sure that you have opinions. Or if you do, I think you might do a good job of keeping them to yourself. If people end up betting the way they're talking, I wonder if that will change?" It's obviously rhetorical, despite the curious arch of fine brows for Z'ian. "And if it's people's job, I'd think they ought not to be preoccupied over much. Though I'll admit to my own... occupations." Smirking now, "I try not to expect. It's definitely been enlightening. Educational." There isn't much else to be said for Igen, not now anyway. He acknowledges her, nodding at the right points and glancing away in time to miss the odd pause in her story. If he noticed it, he keeps it to himself. Z'ian splays his fingers out against the stone of the ledge and stares out down at the lake. Her commentary on opinions results in a sideways glance, "You think that I personally don't have any?" The bronzerider asks, eyebrows furrowing together for a moment. "Maybe people just don't ask me about them, so I don't open my mouth to discuss them." And here he lifts one shoulder, mouth curving into a disarming smile again. "Everyone expects, even if they try not to. Just like people have opinions, even if they don't talk." He pulls his lip into his mouth, worrying on the lower. "It happens. Being preoccupied. But educational and enlightening sound like they're positive." His fingers drum along the ground and he hazards another flicker of his towards her, "I don't see why it would. People talk, people bet. But that doesn't amount to anything in the end, does it?" Careful now, "Mmm, no." Brieli tilts her head to consider her words, consider Z'ian before, "I think that you've done a good job of not being asked, or not opening your mouth, one of the two. H'kon says less, and you can still tell where he stands, yes? More or less." Her smile is brilliant if brief in return, before she returns to examining her boots for imperfections. "One needs focus to move forward. And positive generally, I suppose. Positive for who remains to be seen." With another glance, brows arched, "It amounts to support in a sense, doesn't it? Even if the whole thing is ridiculously left to chance, people have ways of showing preferences. Unless they bet on people they hate regularly, but that's not my experience." "You get asked less questions if you're the one asking other people the questions." Z'ian confides, before taking in a deep breath. When he looks at her this time it's direct, not the furtive side glances of a moment ago. But there's a pause before he exhales. "These kind of conversations make my skin crawl. I feel as if there's some beating around the bush going and I'm not particularly skilled at being subtle or understanding it." He rescues what on another person would have been a borderline anxious expression, turning it around into a laugh, a breakthrough grin. "So what does the woman who doesn't expect anything, hope for?" He pulls his legs back and folds them up underneath himself. "What does she hope for, when she maps the terrain of a situation that's more or less left ridiculously to chance?" Amused, "I'd noticed that." Of course. Questions for questions. It makes Brieli wrinkle her nose, a touch girlish - but then, she's barely in her twenties. Tilting her head again, tucking dark curls behind her ear before they spill over her face, she returns Z'ian's regard - and then, seems entirely sincere in, "I'm just interested in what people think about how things were going, how they should go. What they see, if they could build what they wanted." And she'd smile, really -- she tries, at that question, but doesn't quite make it; it won't quite reach her eyes. "To survive, as sad as that may be. But now..." She trails off, shrugs. "To be prepared. To control what I can. To be able to run off to an island some day. Don't we all hope for something like that?" It's lighter at the end there, at least. Z'ian's mouth quirks, pulling up into a sideways smirk. "I'm an obvious kind of person." He purses his lips then, listening attentively and with a drawing of his eyebrows. The bronzerider fixes her with a searching look before taking in a breath, glancing out towards the cliff's edge. "You're too young to be saddled with the fatalistic, survival-preparation-control mentality." It's not said as insult, more along the lines of mildly distressed stray thought. However he companionably reaches forward and gives one of her boots a tap with his hand. The smile he provides Brieli with is coaxing now as he shifts to put some weight on his hands and lift himself up, drawing himself into a crouch. "What can I do for you?" "Perhaps. But someone murdered my friend, the woman responsible for my going to Monaco for Iesaryth, because of what she believed, what she changed, or wanted to change. Then, at Fort, a weyrwoman is attacked, eggs stolen. My..." Here, Brieli pauses before, "There were injured from the fires there. Obviously, there's a sense that we're not untouchable, as if we were." It might not be the whole of the reasoning for her mentality, but it's reason enough for now. Glancing up at the tap to her boot, she has something of a wry smile to offer to Z'ian. "I think the worst. Always. And for me? If you have thoughts about how things could be, how they could be better... I'd like to hear. I'd like to hear what people are saying, too - but not everyone loves passing on gossip, and I eavesdrop well enough on my own." A grin, now. "I didn't say it wasn't warranted." Z'ian manages smoothly, resting for now in the crouch. "The world is fucked up and crazy. You're still here though, alive and with us. Take some heart in the survival itself." Her fishing expedition results in a low groan, but his face when he looks at her is amused at least. "People need to know that they can still live without being afraid all the time. That it can and will be okay. And it would help, maybe, if they saw that outlook being portrayed by a person leading them. Not that you don't stop being alert, but that you... somehow figure out how to live with it and still enjoy life." He shakes his head and his grin is wry again, "I don't have the best advice or words, I'm sorry." With a shake of her head, "I'd be paranoid even if there were less reason. I'd rather that than not pay attention. The world is fucked up and crazy, and it'll take if you're not careful. Everyone does." That's dark, definitely cynical, but at least Brieli's honest about it. In fact, at that groan of Z'ian's, "At least I asked you outright. It's not my way, but I'll keep it in mind." Considering his words, despite his claims, she takes a moment before, "Actually. That helps in retrospect. Which is something. Knowing what happened was right. So don't apologize." Lightly, with a smile playing about her lips, "Just tell me if you come up with anything. I should go in, and let you get dry." She shifts to start to push off her rocky perch. "Sometimes," Z'ian starts and then pauses. Again, not so awesome all the time at the more serious conversations. "It helps to try and stop yourself to get perspective. I think you're probably doing the right things. Overall." He laughs and shakes his head, finally rising the rest of the way and slinging his towel over his shoulder. "And I greatly appreciate that. I'll keep in mind that people don't always like their questions answered with more questions the next time I see you." He glances around the space they're in and delivers to her a flash of teeth, mischievous and joking "Yeah, at least let me get dressed. Now my shirt is where...?" That particularly query is more for himself than Brieli, obviously. And hopefully it won't take him too long to find his clothes. "Perspective," Brieli echoes, sounding pleased. "Yes. Exactly." Heading for the stairs, curls bouncing as she starts down them, "If you can't find it, I doubt anyone will complain..." As the goldrider's dark head disappears, there might be some muttering about bronzeriders and questions, but who knows, over the wind. |
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