Logs:Theory
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| RL Date: 9 August, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros, Ulyana |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: V'ros and Ulyana argue over conspiracy theories. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 6, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day. |
| Mentions: Lilah/Mentions |
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| Whether or not Ulyana should be here at this time in the morning doesn't matter: she's here and there's little to be done about it now. The diminutive young woman - scarcely more than a girl, really - is seated on the lowest tier of seats. A pile of hides sits in her lap and she's dutifully marking on them, though what and why will remain a mystery from any distance. The fact that she wears two knots might be the greater mystery. No matter. Her motions are slow, calculated; mechanical as she ostensibly applies her notes and observations to the hides in her lap. From time to time, she shuffles through and looks at other pieces, but her focus seems unnaturally keen on the eggs and her current work. Heavy footfalls echo in the galleries as someone else makes their entrance - an exhausted looking someone, wearing worn leathers and a weyrling's knot. V'ros takes the stairs two at a day, cutting his movement time in half. He ends up at the railing separating the stands from the sands, leaning with his elbows on the top; it may even seem his physical tiredness leads to this leaning. "Right," he mutters to himself, pushing away from the rail and turning to survey the galleries. It's early enough that most people aren't going to be lingering about, so that leaves many options for seating. Still, he notices the Fortian sitting by herself, his brown eyes narrowing as they touch on the candidate's knot. "What are you doing here?" is the question, asked gruffly, as he takes the few steps forward to position himself directly in her line of sight. She doesn't look up from her work at the sound of heavy footfalls. Nor does Ulyana seem troubled by the man's muttering to himself. In fact, it's a wonder she's aware of the world at all for the intensity of her focus - and then the young man inserts himself between her and her visual focus. Her head cocks slightly to one side and moves, slowly, to permit her to glance at him askance from the corner of one icy, gray eye. She doesn't immediately respond. The impression is of someone who is clearly spending too much time processing those words and, thus, leaving a terribly awkward gap between query and response. When she does answer, it's in her peculiar, flat affect - graced as it may be with her accent. She's a girl from Crom, if he has an ear for that kind of thing. "Looking. Noting." As if there were anything else to do. There's a slow blink, then: "You are facing the wrong direction if you are intending to look at the eggs." He'll have a chance to look at the hides - marked as they are with a clutch diagram and narrowly printed notes next to the 'eggs' and crammed in the margins. Somewhere between the question and answer, V'ros starts to look frustrated. "You're a candidate. From Fort. Aren't you supposed to be.. there? Not.. here? Checking out eggs. Don't you have any 'there'." He points to her shoulder, bearing the knots he speaks of, and waits with a clenched jaw and arms folded across his chest. "There are no eggs." The flat explanation seems to be sufficient for Ulyana, but it's clear enough by the 'Reachian's posture that it will not be enough to move him. Her hides are stacked neatly and set aside for the duration, while her hands rest, gingerly folded, in her lap. Her head tips up, eyes practically unblinking as she responds, "We were told we could stand for the next clutch at Fort." Her mouth twists slightly, contorting at one corner. "Presuming the dragons do not lie again. That you do not know about it confirms my theory that dragons have the capacity to lie - or keep truths away from others." No eggs-- V'ros frowns. "Then why," but by then she's giving him an explained and he frowns deeper. "That I don't know confirms nothing, except the fact that I just Impressed myself and I've been holed up in the barracks. It's not like we get to sit around gossiping all day." He continues to stand, quite unmoving, in her way. "If you're bent to believing dragons have some insidious purpose, I won't stop you, but maybe you should think twice before standing. You know, if case you get one of the bad ones.. who lie." "I would think that a queen failing to clutch would be information that all dragons would know," Ulyana explains. "That your dragon did not or that the information was not relayed to you - by dragon or another rider- is confirmation enough. It means dragons do not share information that could be critical." Her head tilts slightly. "Nor did I say that there was malice in the lie. My theory is that she was pretending to be a mother. She wanted to be one. But she was not prepared for it. I have not had a chance to speak with her rider." There's a slow blink and a blandly added, "I was asked to stand and gave my word that I would. I intend to do so - and return home when that duty is complete." One could probably hear the wind blowing outside if they strained hard enough, so absolute is the silence after the other stops speaking. "I would.. suggest, that you don't.. talk to her ride. Unless you want to be kicked out." V'ros is regarding her intensely, his brow furrowed deeply. "What you're talking about.. you're talking about going against everything that we know. You think you can unravel the mystery of dragons in one day?" He shakes his head, glancing back at the sands, at the gold dragon on them. "Zmeyth doesn't tell me everything, and I don't tell him everything. Just because we don't doesn't mean we're lying." "I was informed that I should speak to her by one of Fort's riders." Ulyana reaches to gather her hides, pulling them up to press them to her chest. She pushes to her feet, wholly uncaring of the fact that she's violating personal space; she seems to have no sense of her own. Her head remains tipped back, allowing her some attempt at meeting his eyes. "I never indicated that I was planning on unraveling their mysteries. I am exploring a theory. Just because your dragon does not lie does not mean others are not capable of it. That would be like saying 'because golds cannot produce fire, no dragons can produce fire.' How do you -know- it cannot be true?" Earnest curiosity, stripped down by her flat tonality. "And I do not know dragons. I know only that a blue dragon sought me out among several. His rider told me that I should stand for the clutch Fort was expecting - and there was no clutch, in the end. If there is no lie there - then why was I Searched for no eggs?" "I think it would.. be a mistake." V'ros isn't budging on this, or where he stands, physically. "It's basic sexual education - if the gold flew and mated, there is a chance or eggs, and I suppose, a chance of no eggs. Same goes for all other creatures and humans too. Every time you have sex doesn't guarantee a child." He shifts, awkwardly, perhaps from the conversation topic. "I think you're.. you're just thinking about it too much." As for being Searched, well - "Search is a.. it's a tricky thing. Just because you're Searched doesn't mean you're meant for 'that' one clutch. You may not Impress, ever, but some people have 'that' thing and others don't." "That is not the theory I am exploring. My ability to Impress does not factor into the fact that either the gold lied when she flew, the blue lied when he indicated there was a clutch to stand for or the rider lied in translating for the blue." Ulyana remains precisely where she is, perhaps uncomfortably close to the weyrling - and plainly not caring that this might be the case. "If she is barren, there would have been no point in her rising. Have you ever heard of a gold rising and failing to lay eggs? I have only found records indicating that golds cease to rise when they are infertile." Finally, she takes a slight step back to gain a foothold on a step; it pulls her back and gives her a few inches of height, all in preparation for her departure. "Am I thinking about it too much," she wonders, "or does anyone think about anything at all?" "I don't see your point. If she flew, she flew. Golds don't mate for the fun of it like greens do. They mate for eggs." Someone has been listening in his dragonhealing lessons. "It's not like she could know she didn't produce any eggs, until she didn't. Maybe you should go talk to a healer about 'how that happens'." V'ros looks serious, too. He takes a step back too, eyeing up the much shorter girl. "You're definitely thinking about it too much without considering all the facts. Go talk to a dragonhealer, they can give you a better understanding of how reproduction works." "I am well aware of how it works," Ulyana responds. "That you are failing to listen to what I have said is also apparent." Her mouth presses into a flat line borne of mild frustration rather than aggravation. "Find a case in which another gold rose and did not produce eggs and we will have something interesting to talk about." There is no farewell. No socially acceptable dismissal. Those are her final words on the matter and, after they're uttered, she pivots on a heel and departs. |
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