Logs:Purpose
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 12 July, 2014 |
| Who: Valenros, Aishani, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Valenros is busy killing plants, and then he has a chat with Aishani about life's purpose. N'rov pops in to talk about mattresses. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 3, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Foggy and cold. |
   |
| It may be cold and foggy outside on this morning, but the inside of the greenhouse is pleasantly warm. Everything is green and fragrant, unlike the cold snowy wastes of the rest of High Reaches. Valenros is busy at one of the work stations, wearing a dirty smock and a displeased expression. He's got a few containers in front of him, two empty and one with a plant about to break through its too-small pot, and a shovel in one hand. There's a smudge of dirt on his cheek, perspiration dappling his forehead. A couple gardeners are puttering around, trimming plants and churning the soil. Everything is tranquil and quiet - a perfect getaway. It might be the warmth that's brought Aishani to the greenhouse today, or the tranquility, or the greenery - but from the way she tweaks a slowly frizzing curl with a wrinkled nose, it's probably not what it does to her hair. She's appeared from somewhere deeper inside, probably one of the benches, with a folder under one arm, jacket over it. As she passes the gardeners, she gives their work a once-over, none too concerned, but keeping up appearances. As she comes up alongside Valenros, she arches fine brows curiously. "Did the plants do something to you?" she asks, tones low in deference to the quiet. The sudden sound, even low, takes the candidate by surprise. Valenros jumps and then swings his head towards the goldrider. "Ah.. n-no. No. They.. didn't, I just haven't.. had much luck. Yet." Brown eyes move back to the pots, his frown intensifying. "Headwoman wanted me to.. to, uh, branch out.. try some things.. this isn't.. I don't think this is it." His attention lifts to Aishani again, and he shrugs lightly. "I've killed a few.. plants." As if that needs clarification. "What're.. what are.. you doing here..?" It's not a rude statement, just a curious one. Fine brows arch higher as the candidate jumps, though Aishani gives little indication that Valenros' surprise has surprised her. But she seems like the sort to sneak up behind people, doesn't she? With a last tweak of a frizzing lock of hair, she sighs. "I have reason to be all sorts of places. But I like to do my work in here, sometimes, in the winter. It's so drying. The humidity is good for the skin, if not for my hair." Shrugging, unconcerned with plant death, "It's worth trying, I suppose. I don't like to get my hands dirty." "Oh.. oh." Valenros runs a hand over his own close-cropped hair, which doesn't do much of anything itself, regardless of the weather. "I.. I guess." He taps his shovel against one of the pots and steals a look behind Aishani at the gardeners - who aren't paying them any heed. "I suppose.. maybe.. nothing I've tried has really.. stuck.. worked.. yet. Cooks don't like me.. I can't clean dishes.. I kill plants.. I ruin the laundry.." Brow crinkled, he shifts a look at the goldrider. "I guess I do.. uh, belong, in the archives. At least you're.. you're good at a lot of things." Flushing slightly, he turns back to his work station, probing his fingers at the soil. Tossing her jacket and folder on a nearby bench, Aishani glances the gardeners' way likewise, but more out of curiosity than anything else. Once she sees there's no reason to look, her attention shifts back to Valenros. After some little consideration, she suggests, "Maybe just stop worrying about it so much. All that anxiety..." She flutters a hand in his general direction, around him. "I don't imagine it helps." Her skirt is short, but somehow still manages pockets, which she slides her hands into as she quirks a faint smile. "I... All I've ever done, since I was very young, is learn how to do a lot of things toward one specific purpose. And that's gone. So... it's not necessarily how it looks either." Wiping the dirt off on his smock, Valenros sets his shovel aside and braces hands on the top of the counter. "I try.. but.. it's hard. Displaced, no skill." He shakes his head, clearly disappointed in himself, and then turns to face the goldrider. His face becomes pained throughout her words, and at the end, he simply gives a jerky nod in response. "I feel.. the same. I was raised.. to be.. to be someone. To be to honor.. my family, to be.. loyal. To better.. the Hold. Now.. what? I get to.. to dig holes in some dirt for some.. some plants. Everyone says I could.. I might Impress.. but there's no.. no guarantee, then ..what? I don't know." Blowing out a breath, he shakes his head again, as if trying to dispel something unpleasant. "At least you've got.. that." "That's sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, yes? Assume there's nothing you'll be good at, and you won't." Aishani doesn't seem to be judgmental in saying that, just simply offering a thought. A pause as she assesses his pained expression, sharp gaze thoughtful. "Well. There's another clutch on the way, if you don't manage to impress. But there's an awful lot of skills to learn as a dragonrider. I hope... well, I'd hope you wouldn't continue to think that way." There's another moment where she flickers her gaze between the younger man and the plants, before she'll admit, "Having someone... to talk to helps. Who knows what you're thinking. Yes. But impressing... you'll always want something more, if that's who you are." "I don't just.. assume, but," here the candidate pauses and frowns down at the floor, "I've tried a lot. I was a good son.. a.. a good Holder. I helped collect and count tithes.. I conferred with posted crafters on my father's behalf.. I did whatever he asked. I don't see how that can.. translate.. here. Unless I became some kind of-of-" Coming to a halt, he sighs and looks up. "Runner. But everyone knows they don't last long. Too much traveling all the time and they just.. just get run down." Valenros crosses his arms over his chest. "Maybe I'd be more useful as a dragonrider.. maybe." Seems he's bent on having a pity party today - and every day. Resident Debbie downer, he is. "I don't ..don't have anyone.. to.. talk to, as it is. Except myself." He pauses and bites the side of his cheek, thoughtfully saying, "That could be.. who I am.. always wanting more.. I have always wanted.. more.. But 'more' is objective." Aishani is standing near a bench where her jacket and a folder are both abandoned in a heap, hands in pockets of her skirt, while she talks to Valenros, who's standing in front of a counter with a few plants, some of which have seen better days. Carefully, the goldrider notes, "Sometimes people's... issues don't actually have much to do with you and the efforts you've made. They want to see things a certain way, so they do. And honestly, it sounds like you've the skills to assist the Headwoman. It's not a thrilling job, but the collecting and counting..." She pauses before adding, "I have some work in that area as well, but I'm not sure it's what you want." As for wanting more, she shrugs a little. "Depends on what that is to you. But all a dragon will do is give you different sorts of tasks, skills to learn. It's a job, in the end. But... you wouldn't be the first to find some purpose in impression itself, I suppose." Not that she seems to think it's a good plan, but she's not going to judge. Much. The greenhouse is warm and pretty vacant, save two gardeners, Aishani and Valenros. "It's something to consider," the candidate says, still frowning down at the floor, "I don't think she.. uh, wants me to help, now. She's just rotating me on.. other chores.. to see. I think ..she's mad because I.. dyed some of her things.. pink." Speaking of pink, his face flushes and he shrugs. "If I don't Impress, I could talk to her about it. I'm willing. I just.. I just don't know." As for dragons and jobs, well, that's another thing to think about. "You didn't.. didn't find purpose in Impression?" He is all genuine curiosity. The door to the vestibule opens, shuts. It's a southerner's baritone that greets the nearest gardener, though more Boll than continent, not particularly louder than it needs to be; a little while later, its owner comes into view as he heads toward them, a lean, tanned man with skull-cropped hair and an easy saunter. Gray eyes mark his girl first, soon followed by an amused, "Iesaryth didn't tell me we had company." He looks the younger man over, blush and all, before cavalierly reaching for Aishani's hand. Wryly, "She might consider your help more... helpful if you did something you were trained to do. I suppose it doesn't hurt to try things out, though." Aishani glances at the plants again. Maybe it hurts them, but oh well. Giving another little shrug, "What ever works best for you. There's not a lot of use for those skills in the wings, to be honest." The greeting from the entrance doesn't seem to surprise her, so at least one of them is expecting N'rov to appear - in fact, she turns in that direction, expression shifting to something a bit softer; she's already held out her hand before he's reached for it. "Didn't she. Terribly helpful," she replies. There's a moment where she just smiles at the bronzerider, then it's gone and she's all seriousness again, clearly. To Valenros: "I found a partner and a support in impression, but no. I had purpose long before that." "I can.. I'll suggest it." Valenros doesn't look too sure of the end result though. He's chewing his bottom lip while Aishani is talking and someone else comes walking up to them. His brown eyes take in the stranger - blink, blink - and then notes the intimate moment between the two. Shuffling his feet, his flushes deepens and he looks down again, clearing his throat softly - or not so softly, because one of the gardeners looks their way sharply. "It's, ah, good, you have purpose then. I'm still.. still trying, to find mine." He flicks a glance up to the bronzerider, his curiosity switching over to this newcomer. "H-hi. I'm.. I'm Valenros. Candidate. Here." Before anyone can make any introductions, he's on it. "As ever." N'rov indulges in a little sleight of hand now that he has Shani's, sliding a length of vine from up his sleeve to twist it around her wrist as an impromptu bracelet. "Valenros. I'm N'rov. When did you lose your purpose?" he asks without looking down at his work. "Well. It's... not really much of-- You know what? Never mind." Aishani seemed as if she might get into some sort of explanation, but obviously, she just decides against it entirely. Tucking back a lock of hair that's decidedly more curly than usual with her free hand, she arches brows for her vine-turned bracelet, but doesn't ask, doesn't complain. For once. Languidly, "My apologies. My manners, skipping introductions." But since they've taken care of their own, she doesn't actually sound that sorry about it. Glancing to N'rov, "I think he's still looking." She won't speak for Valenros. Their conversation, while not exactly private, is hijacked by a third and it makes Valenros look a little.. shy-er.. than normal. "Yeah.. I'm.. I'm still looking, I guess.. heh." He scratches the back of his head and then hides his hands away in the over-large pockets of his gardening smock. "I'm.. I'm from a Hold. I live here now and just.. just trying to find.. balance. Really." That's one way of putting it, anyway. "And you're how old?" N'rov asks the candidate, not unkindly. He tucks the end of the vine into place so it won't unravel too quickly on its own; at least it's not poison ivy. "Balance between what and what, or what and what and what? I'm from a Hold too. It happens to the best of us." A bit darkly, "No purpose lasts forever, anyway." Aishani might be talking to herself, by her tone, but she doesn't wait long enough for a response, just moves right on. "Holds." She wrinkles her nose a little. "They do seem to wind people up tight. Not you--" she tells N'rov immediately, before he goes on and contradicts her. "But an awful lot of people. I never liked it, at Crom. Everyone's so..." She trails off, unable to find the word, and more interested in the answers to the bronzerider's questions anyway. "I'm.. I'm twenty." Valenros shifts uncomfortably on his feet, some relief visible in his face once the bronzerider admits to being from a Hold. "Balance in.. in everything," as he leans back against the plant station, "Who am I? What do I want? What's my purpose? I don't really know.. what to do. If I Impress, if I.. don't. What then? Aishani, ah, suggests I could.. put to use my 'skills' with.. with the Headwoman." As for references to what Holders are, he misses the mark, replying, "Polite?" and finishing the goldrider's sentence. "Even 'I'd like to keep breathing,'" N'rov asides dryly, and gives her bracelet a tug at 'not him' with the finger that's still slipped between it and her wrist. "'Depressing'? 'Dingy'?" he supplies to go with 'polite,' impolitely. Back to Valenros; he advises, "Start with something small. Do you like a soft... mattress," may be a substitution, "or a hard one? Do you like yours? If not, find someone who wants the opposite to trade with. Unless it's just lumpy, in which case you're probably out of luck unless you really have a golden tongue." "I would argue that these questions do not go away after impression," Aishani feels the need to point out. "But I suppose it's not that way for everyone." She sounds skeptical, though - as if she can't really see it, despite her words. "Regimented. Scheduled. Uptight," she supplies, though she'll admit to N'rov, "Those work as well." The bronzerider's substitution gets him a narrowed glance, but she doesn't say anything. "I know that, perhaps, I shouldn't be one to talk about relaxing, but worrying about... everything seems pointless." Now, now, don't go knocking his home! Valenros frowns. "Dingy? I don't think.. or depressing.. I can see regimented and scheduled, some are uptight.." He is biting on his lower lip again, switching his gaze from N'rov and AIshani and back. "My.. my mattress? It's not even.. mine.. it's the Weyr, I don't think I.. I can 'trade' it.." Looks like someone missed the mark.. by a mile. "It's just.. a hard transition, is all." There, that's something easier to swallow. "You're.. right. I shouldn't worry.. I should just.. I guess.. try to blend in?" "You can talk about relaxing," N'rov allows; his own gaze is not narrow in the least as he grins at her. "We'd just laugh. Wouldn't we, Valenros? Fondly, but laugh." But for Valenros himself, for the bronzerider must have noted that frown, "Are you from there or something? Sorry, all you people talk strange, I can't tell who's who. If it's the Weyr's, just swap with another one that's the Weyr's, that's easy enough." Like he'd know, not being from here. "Don't blend in, just... shells, Vhaeryth, what did you get on your foot? I've got to go. But don't just blend in, Valenros, do something. If you're at a loss, ask Shani here; she's good at telling people what to do. Aren't you, sweet?" He leans to give her a kiss, Valenros a grin, and then he lopes off to see what his dragon's gotten into now. Dryly, "Crom can fit all of the above sometimes, though." Aishani has a not-entirely-kind smirk about her, one that fades as she looks at Valenros in mild disbelief. He's really that concerned about a mattress. Bemused, she just gives N'rov a look for mocking her that little bit - though she doesn't seem too annoyed, particularly as she tilts her head up for the kiss, giving a little wave behind him as he goes. The dragon causing issues? No shock there. Smirking again, "I am good at telling people what to do. Look, how about this." She pauses to consider the candidate. "Talk to some riders, ask them if they have answers to those questions. If they have a purpose. At the very least, someone might have some thoughts on finding it. With or without a dragon." "Uh-" Valenros doesn't want to commit to anything, especially nothing that is going to upset one of the weyrwomen at the Weyr he lives, someone who can control his future. "Don't blend in." He looks like he's about to ask 'why' but the bronzerider makes his goodbyes, leaving the candidate with one hand up in a disconnected wave long after the man is out the door. His attention resettles to Aishani, a little bemused but trusting. "I can do that.. that.. that shouldn't be too hard. I think we're supposed to.. to ask riders about things. The Headwoman hinted at as much." He drops his hand back into his pocket and nods, resolutely. "I can definitely do that. It's a good idea.. thank you." Decisively, "I'm not hinting. It's an order. It should keep you busy, at the very least." Aishani offers a brief smile, so as to be sure it's not taken too seriously. Moving over to the bench, she picks up her folder, then her jacket, swinging it off one finger. "And perhaps you'll find you're not alone in... searching." She glances from the still-working gardeners to Valenros again, before; "I have to check on a few things, then ought to catch up with him..." There's another look to the plants on the counter. "Maybe take an early lunch. They can likely handle what's left," she suggests, tilting her head toward the gardeners. An order - well, Valenros can't object to that. "Ok.. yeah.. an early lunch and I'll find some riders to talk to." He's right there with her, shucking his smock and hanging it on a hook nearby with a bunch of other dirty smocks. Smoothing a hand down his tunic, he gives the goldrider another nod. "Thank you.. for the insight, Aishani. I'll.. I'll see you later." Offering a smile, which is rare in itself, he gives her a small wave and then wends his way out of the greenhouse, a sudden bounce in his step. |
Leave A Comment