[Log] Sulk, Maybe
Who: I'daur, K'del
When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 18
Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
What: I'daur and K'del discuss leadership.
Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
The weyrlingmaster's office is behind a battered, creaky wooden door, so warped it doesn't close completely, whatever is done to it. Still, it serves its purpose in shutting the small room behind it off from the clatter of the training room beyond. The dominant feature is the big desk at the back, with a high-backed chair behind it and a couple of smaller ones in front of it. Another chair or two is left against the wall, out of the way.
With little in the way of decoration to it, there's nothing homey about the room. There's a dead plant in a pot on one edge on the desk, along with the usual assortment of papers and empty bottles one would expect from the weyrlingmaster. The only tapestry is one very dusty one of the Weyr's badge, on the wall directly behind the desk.
Obvious exits:
Training Cavern
For the weyrlings, things progress apace. They fly, they work--some of them work extra hard. Some of them get called into I'daur's office to meet with him. K'del's one of the latter, as Zunaeth reaches out to Cadejoth in a flare of warmth. << Here, now, >> he says, succinctly opting for an image of the office rather than further explanation.
<< Coming, coming, coming! >> enthuses Cadejoth, voice tuned to the unmistakable thrill of being in the air, windswept, with his mental chains clinking madly. Cheeks flushed, the recently-bald K'del enters the office a few minutes later, clutching a woolen cap in his hands, expression reserved. "You wanted to see me, sir." Not a question.
Although still growing into his adulthood, K'del is a handsome man, impressively tall with a physique that - finally - seems to balance this, though he seems destined to always be slender. His face is saved from almost prettiness by the acne scars that still line fair cheeks; his features are fine, high cheekbones and long eyelashes that shade baby-blue eyes, a narrowly pointed chin. His hair, currently worn closely shaved, is too short to be anything but toffee-brown fuzz, matched by the light stubble upon his chin. Despite his youth - he is still, surely, a teenager - he has a nonchalant swagger to his step, and a kind of presence.
K'del's dark blue shirt is winter-weight, made of a fabric blended from wool and linen, and though not brand new, is in decent condition. He wears it tucked into his heavy, dark breaches, belted at his narrow waist with a handswidth of twisted leather. His boots are newer than the rest of his clothes, though they could definitely use a scrub, and dark brown in colour, a perfect fit for his large, wide feet. His knot is made of cords dyed blue and black, with a single strand of bronze, marking him as a Weyrling of High Reaches Weyr.
"Nice hair," I'daur offers in a dry greeting. He eyes K'del as the weyrling comes in, then gestures to one of the chairs against the wall. "Pull one up. And tell me something." Expectant, he looks at the younger boy for a moment before he leans over to rummage the desk for the usual drinking accoutrements.
Instantly, K'del's hand lifts to his head. "Better than the alternative, anyway," he grins, face suddenly dropping the impassivity as, following directions, he grabs one of the chairs, sitting in closer to the desk, and himself on it. "Something? Something specific, or anything I like?" His cap gets dropped to his lap, his arms crossed.
I'daur, emerging triumph with bottle and glasses, albeit dusty ones, sets those on the desk and slides one across toward K'del. "Let's start there. Anything," he suggests as he starts to top up the glass. "What's on your mind?"
K'del watches, as I'daur begins to fill the glass, though his eyes slide upwards to the older man's face for the last of those words. Shrugging, he says, "Was out flying, before you came in here. That was good. Heard we get our weyrs, soon, and that'd be really good." His left foot hooks around the bottom of the chair, lazy, as he continues. "Things're good. Been reading a lot. When there's time."
"Yeah?" says I'daur. His brows lift, and he nudges the filled glass toward K'del. "Bet it will be. Wouldn't expect much out of it, though. The weyr. Pretty shitty ones generally." After filling up the second glass for himself, he leans back in his own chair and takes a sip, back to watching the weyrling in the hot seat. "The reading though--noticed that. What's that about now?"
A shrug, as K'del takes the filled glass, his head inclining in a gesture of thanks. "Nah, not worried about that. Never had a place of my own before - privacy's what I'm interested in, more than anything else." He takes a sip, turning the glass in his hand. "Like to read, I guess. Cadejoth's not so keen, but I find it interesting."
It's the usual harsh liquor you can expect with I'daur, not that it seems to phase him any. He takes a slow drink before noting, "Well, they're usually that, leastways. 'Less you get bad neighbors." Shrug. On the latter: "Wouldn't figure Cadejoth would be. You, neither, come to it--thought the silver knots might've got you in a pique or something."
K'del manages to get his sip down without choking, at least, though he turns it around in his hand some more, rather than take another one. "Bad neighbours? Hadn't thought of that." He doesn't seem too phased, though. "Thought I was going to throw a tantrum?" He watches I'daur, expression impassive again.
"Yep." That's the most talk the neighbors are getting as I'daur gives his shoulders a faint roll again. "Sulk, maybe," he admits, half-smirking. "Haven't done that? Give up on it, or...?"
K'del, bravely, takes another sip from his glass before responding, then transfers the glass to his other hand. "Sulking'd be pathetic, waste of time," he declares. He just avoided most of the weyrlings for a few days, instead, but he doesn't mention that. "Don't think I'm up to it, that's fine. Your opinion." He swallows. "Doesn't mean I have to sit back and cry over it - might as well use the time to do my own study. Probably work better that way, anyway."
"Mm." I'daur does not sound convinced. He lets it slide, though, in favor of toying with his drink and musing, "My opinion, right." Pausing, he sets the glass down and leans forward to rest an arm on the desk. "Doubt you do, but okay. If you're not interested in it now--"
K'del seems, from his expression, quite aware of I'daur's lack of conviction, but instead of stiffening, or forcing the issue, he slides further back in his chair, for all intents and purposes completely relaxed and unbothered by this. He takes another sip. Swallows it. "That mean you've changed your mind?"
"Means there might be a spot opening up," corrects I'daur, holding up one finger to bolster his words. "If somebody wants it. Don't got room to just take everybody, though--gonna have to kick somebody out, to make it happen."
K'del's expression remains quite cool, unbothered. "Got someone in mind, then, to vacate that position." Again, not a question. "If it came up-- mm," he nods, "I'd probably be interested, sure. Wouldn't hurt to do my learning with the others, instead of separate."
"Rascela." I'daur does not beat around the bush on this. "You want it?"
That /does/ shift K'del's expression, just slightly, his lips drawing together into a pursed shape. "I thought she was doing fine," he says, finally, not answering the question. "I mean, it's hard, but she's been working really hard, too."
"She's all right," agrees I'daur, which probably doesn't help the dilemma any. "Works hard, I'll give 'er that much." If K'del is finally surprised some, the weyrlingmaster's not, calmly going about refilling his glass after he finishes it off.
"So..." K'del's brow furrows. "Why kick her out?" His glass gets set back down on the desk, not quite empty, his arms shifting to cross in front of him again.
"Said 'all right,'" reminds I'daur. "Not great." Another drink, and he leans back again, chair tilted slightly up on two legs. "Sometimes you figure out being tops, or bottoms, in lessons don't got anything on being a leader. Not just about taking notes and sittin' in on meetings."
"Sure," says K'del, shrugging, his expression thoughtful, now, and considering. "But Raz's shown leadership in other things, too. She helps some of the others out with things. She has ideas. I guess she's not the most /verbal/ of people, but I still think she'd be a good leader. Why not just add another person to the group, instead of making me decide on her fate? That's not really fair. To either of us."
I'daur pauses, lifts a brow. "Not sure fair's ever really been a consideration," he admits, still without seeming bothered by that fact. "Better for you if we make it somebody else? One of the boys? A'stel, maybe. H'tram--trade bronzeriders," he throws out alternative suggestions.
K'del's head shakes: no, no it wouldn't. "That'd make even less sense," he insists. "Can't just pick someone at random. Thought this was about /merit/. If all of them are useless, kick 'em off. If you want me, add me." He swallows. "And if there's no one who really needs to flunk out, and you don't have room for another, then... guess your original decision on me'll have to stand. Ambition's one thing, but I'd be a pretty pathetic leader if I just kicked other people out of my way."
"You think so?" I'daur's turn to seem genuinely surprised. He sets his glass down (empty, again, of course), to lean forward. "S'pose that's that, then. Figured I'd ask, anyway, see what you thought."
K'del reaches forward for his glass again, swigging down the last of it like it's the only thing keeping him from doing something drastic, then returning it to the desk with a thump. "Yes," he says, after another deep breath. "I do. Fine, then. Are we finished, shall I go?"
"S'pose so," repeats I'daur, with a nod this time. "Wouldn't want to keep you--busy enough as it is. Expect you at the meeting first thing in the morning--s'in the council room. Best ask sombody nice for a copy of their notes, too, while you're at it."
K'del is half out of his chair before I'daur's words actually seem to sink he - he stops abruptly, blinks, watching the Weyrlingmaster with a furrowed brow. And then, as if it never happened, he begins moving again, nodding his head. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
"Best not let it get in the way of your work," is I'daur's parting words, as he motions on toward the door.
"No, sir," promises K'del, as he moves his chair back against the wall, and heads for the door. "Certainly not."
When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 18
Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
What: I'daur and K'del discuss leadership.
Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr
The weyrlingmaster's office is behind a battered, creaky wooden door, so warped it doesn't close completely, whatever is done to it. Still, it serves its purpose in shutting the small room behind it off from the clatter of the training room beyond. The dominant feature is the big desk at the back, with a high-backed chair behind it and a couple of smaller ones in front of it. Another chair or two is left against the wall, out of the way.
With little in the way of decoration to it, there's nothing homey about the room. There's a dead plant in a pot on one edge on the desk, along with the usual assortment of papers and empty bottles one would expect from the weyrlingmaster. The only tapestry is one very dusty one of the Weyr's badge, on the wall directly behind the desk.
Obvious exits:
Training Cavern
For the weyrlings, things progress apace. They fly, they work--some of them work extra hard. Some of them get called into I'daur's office to meet with him. K'del's one of the latter, as Zunaeth reaches out to Cadejoth in a flare of warmth. << Here, now, >> he says, succinctly opting for an image of the office rather than further explanation.
<< Coming, coming, coming! >> enthuses Cadejoth, voice tuned to the unmistakable thrill of being in the air, windswept, with his mental chains clinking madly. Cheeks flushed, the recently-bald K'del enters the office a few minutes later, clutching a woolen cap in his hands, expression reserved. "You wanted to see me, sir." Not a question.
Although still growing into his adulthood, K'del is a handsome man, impressively tall with a physique that - finally - seems to balance this, though he seems destined to always be slender. His face is saved from almost prettiness by the acne scars that still line fair cheeks; his features are fine, high cheekbones and long eyelashes that shade baby-blue eyes, a narrowly pointed chin. His hair, currently worn closely shaved, is too short to be anything but toffee-brown fuzz, matched by the light stubble upon his chin. Despite his youth - he is still, surely, a teenager - he has a nonchalant swagger to his step, and a kind of presence.
K'del's dark blue shirt is winter-weight, made of a fabric blended from wool and linen, and though not brand new, is in decent condition. He wears it tucked into his heavy, dark breaches, belted at his narrow waist with a handswidth of twisted leather. His boots are newer than the rest of his clothes, though they could definitely use a scrub, and dark brown in colour, a perfect fit for his large, wide feet. His knot is made of cords dyed blue and black, with a single strand of bronze, marking him as a Weyrling of High Reaches Weyr.
"Nice hair," I'daur offers in a dry greeting. He eyes K'del as the weyrling comes in, then gestures to one of the chairs against the wall. "Pull one up. And tell me something." Expectant, he looks at the younger boy for a moment before he leans over to rummage the desk for the usual drinking accoutrements.
Instantly, K'del's hand lifts to his head. "Better than the alternative, anyway," he grins, face suddenly dropping the impassivity as, following directions, he grabs one of the chairs, sitting in closer to the desk, and himself on it. "Something? Something specific, or anything I like?" His cap gets dropped to his lap, his arms crossed.
I'daur, emerging triumph with bottle and glasses, albeit dusty ones, sets those on the desk and slides one across toward K'del. "Let's start there. Anything," he suggests as he starts to top up the glass. "What's on your mind?"
K'del watches, as I'daur begins to fill the glass, though his eyes slide upwards to the older man's face for the last of those words. Shrugging, he says, "Was out flying, before you came in here. That was good. Heard we get our weyrs, soon, and that'd be really good." His left foot hooks around the bottom of the chair, lazy, as he continues. "Things're good. Been reading a lot. When there's time."
"Yeah?" says I'daur. His brows lift, and he nudges the filled glass toward K'del. "Bet it will be. Wouldn't expect much out of it, though. The weyr. Pretty shitty ones generally." After filling up the second glass for himself, he leans back in his own chair and takes a sip, back to watching the weyrling in the hot seat. "The reading though--noticed that. What's that about now?"
A shrug, as K'del takes the filled glass, his head inclining in a gesture of thanks. "Nah, not worried about that. Never had a place of my own before - privacy's what I'm interested in, more than anything else." He takes a sip, turning the glass in his hand. "Like to read, I guess. Cadejoth's not so keen, but I find it interesting."
It's the usual harsh liquor you can expect with I'daur, not that it seems to phase him any. He takes a slow drink before noting, "Well, they're usually that, leastways. 'Less you get bad neighbors." Shrug. On the latter: "Wouldn't figure Cadejoth would be. You, neither, come to it--thought the silver knots might've got you in a pique or something."
K'del manages to get his sip down without choking, at least, though he turns it around in his hand some more, rather than take another one. "Bad neighbours? Hadn't thought of that." He doesn't seem too phased, though. "Thought I was going to throw a tantrum?" He watches I'daur, expression impassive again.
"Yep." That's the most talk the neighbors are getting as I'daur gives his shoulders a faint roll again. "Sulk, maybe," he admits, half-smirking. "Haven't done that? Give up on it, or...?"
K'del, bravely, takes another sip from his glass before responding, then transfers the glass to his other hand. "Sulking'd be pathetic, waste of time," he declares. He just avoided most of the weyrlings for a few days, instead, but he doesn't mention that. "Don't think I'm up to it, that's fine. Your opinion." He swallows. "Doesn't mean I have to sit back and cry over it - might as well use the time to do my own study. Probably work better that way, anyway."
"Mm." I'daur does not sound convinced. He lets it slide, though, in favor of toying with his drink and musing, "My opinion, right." Pausing, he sets the glass down and leans forward to rest an arm on the desk. "Doubt you do, but okay. If you're not interested in it now--"
K'del seems, from his expression, quite aware of I'daur's lack of conviction, but instead of stiffening, or forcing the issue, he slides further back in his chair, for all intents and purposes completely relaxed and unbothered by this. He takes another sip. Swallows it. "That mean you've changed your mind?"
"Means there might be a spot opening up," corrects I'daur, holding up one finger to bolster his words. "If somebody wants it. Don't got room to just take everybody, though--gonna have to kick somebody out, to make it happen."
K'del's expression remains quite cool, unbothered. "Got someone in mind, then, to vacate that position." Again, not a question. "If it came up-- mm," he nods, "I'd probably be interested, sure. Wouldn't hurt to do my learning with the others, instead of separate."
"Rascela." I'daur does not beat around the bush on this. "You want it?"
That /does/ shift K'del's expression, just slightly, his lips drawing together into a pursed shape. "I thought she was doing fine," he says, finally, not answering the question. "I mean, it's hard, but she's been working really hard, too."
"She's all right," agrees I'daur, which probably doesn't help the dilemma any. "Works hard, I'll give 'er that much." If K'del is finally surprised some, the weyrlingmaster's not, calmly going about refilling his glass after he finishes it off.
"So..." K'del's brow furrows. "Why kick her out?" His glass gets set back down on the desk, not quite empty, his arms shifting to cross in front of him again.
"Said 'all right,'" reminds I'daur. "Not great." Another drink, and he leans back again, chair tilted slightly up on two legs. "Sometimes you figure out being tops, or bottoms, in lessons don't got anything on being a leader. Not just about taking notes and sittin' in on meetings."
"Sure," says K'del, shrugging, his expression thoughtful, now, and considering. "But Raz's shown leadership in other things, too. She helps some of the others out with things. She has ideas. I guess she's not the most /verbal/ of people, but I still think she'd be a good leader. Why not just add another person to the group, instead of making me decide on her fate? That's not really fair. To either of us."
I'daur pauses, lifts a brow. "Not sure fair's ever really been a consideration," he admits, still without seeming bothered by that fact. "Better for you if we make it somebody else? One of the boys? A'stel, maybe. H'tram--trade bronzeriders," he throws out alternative suggestions.
K'del's head shakes: no, no it wouldn't. "That'd make even less sense," he insists. "Can't just pick someone at random. Thought this was about /merit/. If all of them are useless, kick 'em off. If you want me, add me." He swallows. "And if there's no one who really needs to flunk out, and you don't have room for another, then... guess your original decision on me'll have to stand. Ambition's one thing, but I'd be a pretty pathetic leader if I just kicked other people out of my way."
"You think so?" I'daur's turn to seem genuinely surprised. He sets his glass down (empty, again, of course), to lean forward. "S'pose that's that, then. Figured I'd ask, anyway, see what you thought."
K'del reaches forward for his glass again, swigging down the last of it like it's the only thing keeping him from doing something drastic, then returning it to the desk with a thump. "Yes," he says, after another deep breath. "I do. Fine, then. Are we finished, shall I go?"
"S'pose so," repeats I'daur, with a nod this time. "Wouldn't want to keep you--busy enough as it is. Expect you at the meeting first thing in the morning--s'in the council room. Best ask sombody nice for a copy of their notes, too, while you're at it."
K'del is half out of his chair before I'daur's words actually seem to sink he - he stops abruptly, blinks, watching the Weyrlingmaster with a furrowed brow. And then, as if it never happened, he begins moving again, nodding his head. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
"Best not let it get in the way of your work," is I'daur's parting words, as he motions on toward the door.
"No, sir," promises K'del, as he moves his chair back against the wall, and heads for the door. "Certainly not."