Logs:Possibilities
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| RL Date: 5 June, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, Keysi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After a Silver Thread dance class, Irianke makes Keysi stay and chat frankly. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 13, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Nimae/Mentions |
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>---< Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#392RJLs) >----------------<
All the furniture here has been pushed to one side of the room to allow a
large pathway opposite: room enough to let weyrling dragons pass from the
bowl's archway to the cavernous barracks at the back. None of the
furniture matches, either: it varies from big cushioned, claw-footed
chairs to those of plain wood, while the most seating is at the two stone
tables ringed by low and equally hard stone benches. Without the
tapestries that decorate many of the Weyr's other interior spaces, the
room always echoes with noise, no matter how few are there.
What it does have, however, are several colorful murals: on one wall, a
detailed diagram of a dragon's anatomy; opposite, next to a creaky wooden
door, a number of painted and labeled wing formations. Near the entrance
is a large-scale version of the Weyr's badge, while the back wall, by the
barracks, features a detailed map of the continent. The latter area's also
home to one big, beat-up couch, black or maybe blue -- the thing's so old
and filthy it's hard to tell, though it's certainly comfortable.
+views available
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Irianke F 37 5'7" slender, dark curly hair, stone blue eyes 0s
Keysi F 17 5'7" athletic, brown hair, grey eyes 4m
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Barracks Office Bowl
>-----------------------------------------< 1D 13M 37T I10, winter night >---< This week's dance class is about to wind down, except the instructor, Irianke, who is paired with Keysi this week, calls for one more round of some sort of Nabolese square dance. She played the male to the brownrider's female up until now, but quickly uttered low words of, "Your turn to lead, darling," has her also shifting sides and positioning her hands and arms differently. Keysi is one who puts nothing but the most effort in every class, though she also isn't one to speak up frequently, to ask out-of-the-box questions or argue with those opinions she always seems to have. That comes after class, usually as a one-on-one. But lately, she's not even done that. Not since Fort's Hatching. She's quieter, less apt to answer questions or come up with plans. Especially in dance class. The one class that entirely doesn't suit her, the one where none of her skills really give her any bonus and she's left with stepping on her partner's feet a few too many times. The weyrling brownrider has a very controlled expression, a very focused expression. She'd really rather not step on the foot of the weyrwoman that she so long ago helped her heal. Talk about going back to square one. "I don't think I.." She says, impatiently with herself more than anything. "I don't think I'll ever get this." Stubborn, frustrated, but controlled. "You don't have to get it perfectly," says Irianke, cajoling turn to her accented voice. "Just know the basics to be able to represent the Weyr passably should you attain rank. Here, relax." But given the number of weeks they've been at this thus far, it's just something nice to say. At the very least, the goldrider is an experienced enough dancer to lead without actually being the lead and is light enough of step to dodge any misstep. The harper who has been hired to play music throughout this class starts the mid-tempo song again and the pairs whirl through the square dance. Perhaps not exactly in time, and clunky at best, the steps at least happen. Keysi can't rightly say no, especially given the reason they have to do this in the first place. Oh what she wouldn't give for more drill maps to copy in place of this! Her grey eyes are turned down, staring at their feet and not her goldriding partner. "Do you actually enjoy this?" Is asked, muffled because of her downturned face, weak because of her flustered ineptitude. Irianke releases Keysi and claps about the, hopefully, still brownrider when the question is asked, so she doesnt answer until her hands have reached for and caught the other woman's once more. "I do. This is, as you young folk call it, in my particular wheel house. This, I can do in my sleep. Anything else I have to stay up all night studying for to try and comprehend even a little." The confession of what she can't do is said with an gentle wryness. And then it is over, four minutes long, for some too short, for others, just too damn long. Keysi takes a step back when the the tune ends, the release of finally being evident in those intense eyes that have a relief about them. A glance strays towards the harper to make sure he's putting down his instrument instead of preparing to strike up another tune. "You don't make it seem that way." It's a compliment, in her own way given her dry, nonfluctuating tones. "I guess I.." She pauses, thinking better of it, "Don't really see you that much outside of class." The admittence is thoughtful. "I find everything else easier. The maps, the drills. It makes sense." A shrug, barely noticable, tilts one shoulder and she hesitates as if she wants to say something. But her reservation stops her and she shakes her head. Neianth is present in the training cavern well out of the way of the dancing, watchful, edgy as he has been for the past sevendays or so since she'd gone. Niahvth is not physically present, but her mental touch passes by each of her progeny occasionally and when the dance class ends, she is there with Neianth, sitting patiently in the periphery of his watchful, edgy mind and waits in silence. No images. No words. She is just there. "I don't make it seem that way after turns of training and practice," says Irianke, a note of chiding in her tone. Her smile is warm upon Keysi and she moves just a few steps away to say some ending class notes and watches each of the weyrlings depart. A few sidesteps brings her right back to Keysi's side to resume their conversation. "Some day, you will find that one dance whose steps you can remember at the drop of a hat and dazzle some holder and whisk them off to the Weyr to be your candidate." Surely, she must be teasing. Neianth is aware of his dam's presence, but it's not wholly an abnormal thing. He's been aware of her checking in on all her clutch at night, often because he himself is up quite late and rises too early. Eventually, his ripples- that quiet reflective pool of his mind- reaches out to actively touch hers. Gentle waves unstilled by a single droplet, present and not entirely serene. Impatient for the class to end, sure, that's nothing new. But his protective nature perhaps is far more prominent than it was prior to Keysi being part of the Fort event. Keysi waits to hear the end of class mini-lecture, then turns as if ready to depart quickly enough. There are always so many things to do. But as the weyrwoman catches her again, her words stop her exit with a hint of surprise forced in her expression, "I uh.." She raises a hand to cough into a fist, "I don't think I'll be dazzling anyone with those steps, but I at least don't intend to embarrass the Weyr at the next Gather." Is all she can give. The hand that reaches out to stay Keysi's presence is not quite the same as the way Irianke held the brownrider's shoulder, waist, or hand throughout the dancing. This is a firmer grip, an unyielding one, even if it is gentle and allows for movement. It reaches for the brownrider's elbow and gray-blue eyes that suddenly look more fluidly liquid than stone, turn up to catch the younger woman's eyes. "How are you today, Keysi?" Grey eyes slip over to Neianth and then back to Irianke as she's caught from leaving with a hand. "I am fine, of course, weyrwoman." Formality, her natural safety rope. She says it carefully, but fluidly. Believably. "Is there something the matter? Are you well?" A beat, a considering look with her intense gaze, "I've been out of practice in healing for a few months, but if you needed something..." The frank nature Irianke is known for breaks past her concern in a warm, if curt, request, "Shall we dispense with the formalities, weyrling?" The switch from Keysi to weyrling when asking to be at ease is likely a deliberately irony. Keysi's intensity narrows her eyes, thin lines furrowing her brow as she considers exactly why she's being caught up. She wasn't that bad a dancer. Nor had she failed her duties thus far. "..Excuse me, ma'am?" It's certainly hard for her to drop formalities, but she's squared up with Irianke at this point, her glance sliding away briefly to see if any of her fellow weyrlings linger to eavesdrop on them. "There's fine and then there's fine, neither of which you qualify for." Irianke's hand remains at that elbow, looser now, though her fingers still rest there. She has, at the very least, waited until everyone including that bronze who always lingers during silver thread classes, have departed before shedding the superficiality. "A mark of a good leader is not only those who can memorize maps and understand drills well. It's when they realize they need help and ask for it from those who might be able to offer answers or at the very least, a stronger shoulder to lean on. And while my shoulder doesn't appear that strong, I can assure you, it's another skill I've cultivated over the turns." The goldrider pauses just a fraction of a second and reaches forward to envelop the brownrider in a hug, real, big, encompassing hug. Keysi remains very still, rigid almost as she waits. She hears the words spoken, and for once listens. So rarely is it that she of all the weyrlings gets taken aside. And that stillness, as she somewhat struggles to take in the fact that Irianke is trying to be thoughtful, kind, supportive to her, is suddenly wrapped up in a hug. A hug! Keysi doesn't get or give those, and she becomes defensive, perhaps even a tad fearful to be swept up in in. Enveloped as she is, her hands hesitate and then sort of return the affection. Sort of. Affectionate is not one of her personal adjectives. "I didn't think I needed help." The words are quiet, defeated by the contact more than the goldrider's words themselves. "But I question myself." Admitting such is a struggle, but the effort to continue to fight this interaction would be wasted, "If I'd been in charge here and made the same decisions as Fort did. They lost one. It could have been my fault." It takes awhile for her to spit it out, but confident that none others linger, it's allowed. Irianke does not relinquish the hug, even after Keysi speaks. She just hugs. That's another of her skills. But finally, she does ask, "And what decision would that have been?" Only then does she release the weyrling and look at her, with her hands braced about the woman's upper arms. Keysi never fully dissolves into the hug. The tension lingers with the unfamiliar gesture. It's certainly not in spite of Irianke herself, just.. She hesitates- did she say too much? "I know I'm not in any position to make any decisions." She clarifies, as if that will be the end of her divulging secrets. But, as Irianke continues to hold her arms, continuing an embrace, she's kept off her guard. "During the agreement with Igen," There's potentially guilt there, considering who she's talking to, but she works at keeping the neutrality of her expression a solid one, "I thought it would have been better to only Search from High Reaches. I thought it would be better, even if that meant they'd be sent away. And that's what Fort did, and their consequence.... wasn't small." "There's a difference between Searching within High Reaches' coverage area and what Fort Weyr did. And as yet, I do not comprehend why Fort did not Search Boll or Ruatha, though have inklings as to why Fort Hold was left alone." Irianke's hands flex in little hand hugs, reassuring little squeezes as she paces out her thoughts and words, debating what she wants to say with what she should. "Weyrs only Search within their coverage area anyway, except in rare outlying circumstances. What was put explicitly in writing was due to the delicate nature of the deal made between Azaylia and Nimae, that there would be the assumption that Igen, due to transferring an Igen gold, would be obligated to offer candidates as well. Does this make sense?" "It makes sense. I spoke with K'del about it sometime after hearing bits and pieces of it. But-" Keysi had never spoken to the transferred weyrwoman on the topic, and probably should have. Her grey gaze narrows, and falls away, considering. "Our candidate class was still so small. Weren't you worried about one of ours not finding someone? We spoke about it- a group of us in the barracks- days before the Hatching." "Our candidate class was small because the Weyrlingmaster took it upon herself to convince people not to ride Search and convince people not to accept Search," says Irianke simply. Though there's no blame in her tone, its inevitable with the subject that, in her mind at least, cause and effect was with Quinlys. "And yes, it is always a concern." The hands finally drop from Keysi's arms to fall to her side. A low exhale draws Irianke's gaze to the ceilings and then around the room to the archway that leads to the barracks. "It is always a concern whether there are just enough candidates or five times as many. There are no guarantees even based on sheer numbers." "I was under the belief that it couldn't happen after I brought it up and the other's so quickly dismissed it. Surely there'd be someone." And an inflection hints at her tone as she stresses the word, gives away that she actually has stronger feelings for this than she even to this point had given into. "Surely if not on the sands, then in the galleries. I'd not lived at a Weyr before this. I thought I was mistaken, I thought the stories I'd heard from Harpers were wrong. And then this. Neianth and I.. we won't lose anyone." The comment is made with a laden degree of responsibility set upon herself, "But that.. I feel like it's unpreventable. There was nothing they could-" She trails off, hinting at all the efforts Lilah had made to usher people onto the sands at the time. Irianke's chin drops, a silent moment for Fort in her silence. Then, "People think the more candidates, the more likely it will be the dragons will find their partner. And it could just be a numbers game," concedes the weyrwoman. "The likelihood of getting enough different personalities and ways of thinking onto the sands makes it unlikely any one dragon is left. People tend to favor optimism." The way she says it implies she is not one of them, though, the resignation in her voice also negates the direct opposite, that she is a Negative Nancy. "If you're interested in these matters, I would suggest speaking to Leova about extra dragonhealing lessons and possibly shifting your focus from people healing towards understanding dragonkind better so we might understand how to prevent this with more guarantee in the future." "It makes sense, that. I mean, it's not as though anyone could have enough insight to pick out the right person to each egg. Nobody knows what that personality will be like." The idealist that she is does not exactly correlate with optimism all the time, and she hedges that part of the weyrwoman's words with a beat of silence and then carrying on with the concept of dragonhealing. There's the slightest of flicker of confusion before Keysi steadies her resolve, "I intend to learn some, but I can't see myself focusing so heavily on theories and thoughts. Neianth's acrobatics are already showing- I feel we would be better to use them to protect people, help people. We could be more useful in other places," Her hand raises slightly as if to indicate around the Weyr. "But if there's anything I can do.." "It was but a suggestion. A possibility for you to follow since you seem driven to make sure it never happens again." Irianke steps back, further from the weyrling and fashions a rueful not quite smile. "Keysi, one of the larger joys of my job is taking care of the Weyr's inhabitants. It certainly far outpaces my love of counting spoons in the storerooms." That is quite dry. "I am lucky to have a dragon that takes this part of our job as seriously as I do and it's through her forethought that I knew." She knew to come here. To talk to Keysi. To broach the subject somehow. "Next time, please consider coming to me directly if you have concerns or are confused." "I don't wish to bother you with.." Keysi starts, but thinks better of it. That was the whole point of this interaction. "I understand what you mean about being a leader, needing to know when to ask for help. But there's also the whole other aspect of being strong for others. Everyone was so outwardly upset," And she doesn't say it as if to knock down the importance of it, but as acknowledgement of the feelings, "I couldn't be." The steeled girl looks away, back at her dragon whose patience is a thin thing, but whose remained uninvasive as if learning something for himself. Wise he may be, but he's still a young one. There's still much to learn. "There's a lot of room for mistakes. You have that weight on you everyday. K'del does too. The stress of your decisions, I imagine give you many sleepless nights?" For some reason, this seems to be more of her real concern than the residual effects of the inciting events. "I have good people surrounding me now," replies Irianke to Keysi's concern, amusement bright in her warm eyes. "My sleepless nights are due to other reasons." The smile deepens and she glances at the barracks and then the exit on the other side. "I have people to go to when being strong in front of others is fraying my public persona. I promise. Get some rest, weyrling." It seems at ease is over now. Keysi sighs, scratching the back of her neck. "I'll keep that in mind." What part of that which she intends to keep goes unsaid, but it's not said lightly. There's enough to think about, especially after such an unexpected moment of support. She starts to turn, but hesitates with her shoulder partially turned, "Thank you, Irianke." It's a hard thing to get out, if for no other reason than trying to stray from formality to be more personable, and grateful. Irianke gives Keysi a small salute and turns to exit, even her walking gait floaty and dance-like. Some people were just born to dance. |
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