[LOG] - Ulyana: Satisfaction
Title: Satisfaction
Summary: Ulyana meets Elise. Questions are asked and answered - to satisfaction, for once.
Characters: Elise, Ulyana
Location: Bowl Falls, Fort Weyr
Time: Day 25, month 6, turn 35 of Interval 10
RL Date: 08/09/2014
The afternoons have been getting more and more disgusting of late, what with the humidity and all. Some people might like that kind of thing but Elise is not one of those people. She'll endure it, sure, but the second she gets to get away to somewhere less oppressively muggy she takes it. Now, for instance, she's enjoying some alone time seated on the edge of one of the pools, feet dipped ankles-deep in the water. It's an accessible spot, she hasn't gone out of her way to /be/ away, and she /looks/ receptive enough to the world, as receptive as one can look when their mind is wandering.
It's a pursuit for solitude that finds Ulyana approaching the falls. Naturally, that pursuit ends poorly for her, but sheer stubbornness seems to keep her going. She picks her way along the channel in bare feet, with her shoes in one hand and her skirts held out of the way with the other. The girl doesn't announce her presence, nor does she make any particular effort to -avoid- the pool that's presently occupied - just as the occupant hasn't made an effort to be avoided. It's the damp pat-pat of bare feet on stone and the whispering of skirts that gives her away and she doesn't deny her presence by making extra effort at quietness. She settles herself not too far away, very much mirroring the feet-dipped-in-water posture of the other woman, but without the obvious receptiveness on her face.
It isn't some great talent, Elise knowing that she isn't alone anymore. Maybe it has something to do with those soft pat-pats, or maybe it's just that she's tethered to a telepathic mind that belongs to a dragon that might not be too far away from here now, really. So it is that her eyes focus suddenly and she tilts her head to look up at first at Ulyana, then over when the girl chooses that spot to sit. She smiles, warm if not abundantly /cheerful/, and says, "Hi."
The blank look on Ulyana's face cracks at the greeting, yielding a peculiar furrowing of her forehead. This was clearly not anticipated. Her reply comes an awkward couple of seconds later in the form of: "Hello." There's another beat. Two. Then comes a slow blink and a flatly intoned, "If I am interrupting something, I can go elsewhere. I was just attempting to find somewhere quiet to sit." Her fingers are already bunched in her skirts as if bracing for precisely that result, though her feet remain resolutely in the water - still and pale like dead fish.
All of Ulyana's... everything strike a chord. There's something in the way she regards the younger person that suggests she might be somewhat familiar with this kind of... personality. Her smile isn't going anywhere, and neither should Ulyana it would seem. "No, you're not interrupting. Sit. Have quiet. Thank you, though. Can't say most people would care." Her eyes narrow very slightly, lacking in suspicion, above that smile. "I'm Elise, by the way. If we're going to be sitting, quieting companions."
The unexpected result occurs again and the crack in Ulyana's forehead persists. She relaxes her hold on her skirts, only to meticulously start folding and creasing them to keep them out of the water. Her feet remain still; her hands are the fidgety part of her, it would seem, at least until their task is done. "I see," says she, and then silence is left on her end to be filled by the other woman's words. The introduction isn't immediately responded to, as if some part of her mind must spend an extra-long amount of time parsing that social requirement. Her answer is as flat as her other words - and if Elise is keen on accents, she'll pick up a dose of Crom Hold in her words. "Ulyana of Crom Hold." The knots say the rest. "It is a pleasure to meet you," sounds stilted and strange, but at least the words are there.
That her companion doesn't seem the most talkative of people doesn't bother Elise, she carries on regardless. In those moments of silence or not-talking she tilts her head to hopefully make her attention seem less focused on the girl, so she isn't so much under a microscope. When her name is supplied her eyebrows punch together. "Ulyana of Crom, hm, I think someone mentioned your name to me recently actually, but maybe not. Did you just get here? I thought it might have been on a new arrivals roster." Her shrug conveys the option that maybe it doesn't matter all that much. "Anyway, you're here. It's a good thing I hope? Not being held here against your will?" That smile turns teasing.
On the other hand, once Elise is within Ulyana's sights, the girl doesn't bother hiding the intense sense of scrutiny. Her blinking is slow, practically reptilian - which is a fine descriptor for her, for the most part. She's utterly still now, save for the periodic shift of her expression. The lack of recognition seems to be expected; the further questioning yields a momentary furrowing of her brows and wrinkling of her nose. It's slight, but there. "No. I was Searched. I am not being held against my will." The latter is meant as a kind of reassurance, but it might fall predictably flat. "It has not been an unpleasant experience, but I am not sure if 'good' is the right word for it." Honest, at least. "Does my stay have to be a good thing?"
"Aha!" might be startling, since they're supposed to be enjoying the quiet, but she can't help herself. "That was it, it wasn't the new arrivals it was the candidate roster. You're one of those that stayed." And suddenly there's a new kind of something in Elise's regard. Ulyana earns points for her honest answers. "It doesn't," she replies in an easy tone. "Though I think it might be better for you, if it were to be something like nice. Or good. If you're here you might as well enjoy it. Why did you stay?"
It does startle, but Ulyana does a fine job of hiding it. The flattening of her mouth is the only real betrayal of her own surprise. "Yes," she confirms to the confirmation - and then comes that silence, the sound of things being processed. A singular shake of her head is given, a left-right-center motion that terminates as abruptly as it starts. "Discomfort- that is something I am comfortable with. I am not sure what would make staying here 'good'." Her mouth twitches to one side. "I stayed because I was asked to Stand. After I fulfill my promise, I will go home. Not before."
Comfort in discomfort? Elise's curiosity hikes up another notch. "What a strange creature you are," she comments, with a relevant amount of kindness and the corner of her mouth twitching again to threaten another of her impish smiles. "You were asked to Stand for Eliyaveith's, yes. But you stayed for the next? I can't lie and say I don't understand when I did exactly the same thing, but I didn't have anywhere else to go." Which might be meant for more than just idle obvservation, it might be meant as something more direct than that. Rather than linger on things more personal, she asks, "Who do you think will go up next?"
Shoulders rise and fall with apparent indifference; the sentiment is probably one Ulyana's heard before. "I am staying to Stand, regardless of how long it takes to do so. I do not want the blue that Searched me to feel as if he lied when he told me there would be a clutch." This seems to be of utter importance to her, weighted as the words are. Her head tilts slightly to one side at the next, seemingly content to leave matters lie as they are now. "I cannot say. It could be any of them - maybe even Eliyaveith." One shoulder rises and falls in a lopsided shrug." I do not think it matters much." A pause. Consideration. "Does it?"
Something softens in Elise's eyes for that. "That's very noble. And you've probably heard this before but nobody could be blamed for missing that mark. She flew, she was caught, then come eggs. Who could have known it wasn't going to happen quite as we all figured? Least of all those of us who weren't exactly born to this." A vague gesture incorporates the Weyr, somehow. "But... well. Anyway. You're here now." As for if it matters or not, she can only shrug similarly with her mouth a thin line. "I have no idea. But I'm curious to know who thinks what. Aedrielth hasn't let on, I'm not sure if she would know something like that anyway."
"I would prefer to think that she was playing pretend at motherhood." Ulyana lays no judgment in those words, but there is a sense of weight to them all the same. "That is why it is possible she will go up again - properly." She refolds her skirts over her knees and frowns just a touch at the damp edges. "I was looking in the records, but I could not find a case where a gold rose and did not clutch. It strikes me as strange." Troubling, even. Her mouth twists into a soured line that doesn't quite smooth out. "Aedrielth might also, but I do not know her. I do not know any of them - that is why it is hard for me to speculate." She blinks, then asks, as if struck by a strange revelation, "Do you think she would tell you if she knew? Or would she surprise you with it?"
"That could be," Elise figures, though she's noncommital about it. This is all, as they've said, speculation. "I know some would like to think that somehow it was all on purpose, some strange act, some fakey thing, but I don't think that's the case. Even if it might mean less worrisome things to assume it was just a trick. It's simpler to think that than it is to think there's something wrong and she needs help. And it isn't," she adds, all in the same thought, "in the records." There's certainty there for that. Ulyana's return-question lifts Elise's eyebrow. Her answer comes after a small pause. "I think... I think she would. She knows how I feel about the whole thing and it's our first time, so... I think she would. Or I hope." How quiet she got is a tell, clearly that's a strange topic for her. Not an entirely /good/ one.
"I do not feel it was a malicious trick, if it were. No more malicious than a girl playing with dolls and wanting a child of her own." The observation is made with a strange edge to it, of an observer looking in rather than through her own experience. Ulyana sits back a little and finally moves her feet - but only to push herself back. "If she is sick, the dragonhealers will fix it." Problem solved, if only to her mind. It's Elise's answer that garners the most interest, though, and the girl's inscrutable gaze shifts to rest squarely on her the whole time. Despite the goldrider's discomfort, she persists: "Do you think she would lie to you to make you happy? Knowing that you might not be comfortable with it?"
"Mm." It's a distracted noise, she's thinking about it all now, but she doesn't falter when Ulyana pushes this particular line of questions. If she's not exactly pleased with the subject matter she's brave or foolish enough to carry on anyway. "She can't lie," she replies, as if she's only just realizing that not everyone would know that about the pale queen. "In fact her honesty is more painful sometimes," is added, with a rueful little smile. "She doesn't shy away from the truth and she won't let me shy away from it either, even if it means I'm uncomfortable. We know that what comes next isn't going to be easy, so I think she would prepare me as best she could ahead of time. Is what I meant, I suppose." And when it might be easier to fall back into that thoughtful quiet, Elise rouses up her smile again with another shrug. "We'll see."
It's a lot to digest. To process. To file away in the queer corners of Ulyana's mind. She lapses into silence for a long stretch of time after that, her expression screwed up into one of intense thoughtfulness. After what feels like a full minute, she says, "Thank you." There's even an attempt at a smile, though that smile fits poorly on her face and is quickly shoved away as if to pretend it wasn't there to begin with. Elaboration follows, her words coming slowly, but steadily. "I am glad you are willing to answer my questions without getting frustrated. The other riders I spoke to did not appreciate my questions." Her fingers knot in her skirts, ruining the neat folds all over again. "It must be difficult to not know when the inevitable is going to happen. I will hope it is not terrible for you."
Oddly enough it's a smile that puzzles Elise, not the rest of Ulyana's mannerisms, or lack thereof. It's clear in the furrowed brow that she now wears. And though the thanks doesn't help just yet in clarifying anything, she accepts it all the same, that smile lingering. She'll wait for the explanation, and that confusion fades with each word, replaced by understanding. "A lot of people around here don't really like questions. Fort is the resting spot for a lot of different types. I'm not surprised you found contention but I'm sorry for it. And yes, it is." More honesty. "But it's not terrible now and it won't be, it'll just be..." That lapse into trying to find the right word transitions into a faded half-focus that turns into an apologetic cringe. "She's calling now, actually. I have to go, I'm sorry." Hopefully Ulyana will be used to riders just wandering off, but she's at least trying to be sane about it. She reaches for her own shoes, just there, and pulls herself free of the pool to stand. Once up, shoes on, she looks down at the younger of them and smiles that smile. "Thank you for sitting with me. Anytime you have questions, I'll try to find some answers for you." A little wave later and she's off.
"High Reaches is not much different," Ulyana offers, but that is all. Though Elise gets up, she remains where she is, still and strange as she's been for most of the conversation. She still has sitting time, after all, and she plans to take all of it. "I see," is her reply to the apology and the cringe. She's accustomed enough to it, it would seem. There might be a briefly troubled expression, but it's less at the abrupt departure and more for the word-that-wasn't-said. She dips her chin in a shallow nod, but there is no smile this time. Just a socially prescribed, "Take care." And a lingering look left in the rider's wake after she's gone.
Summary: Ulyana meets Elise. Questions are asked and answered - to satisfaction, for once.
Characters: Elise, Ulyana
Location: Bowl Falls, Fort Weyr
Time: Day 25, month 6, turn 35 of Interval 10
RL Date: 08/09/2014
The afternoons have been getting more and more disgusting of late, what with the humidity and all. Some people might like that kind of thing but Elise is not one of those people. She'll endure it, sure, but the second she gets to get away to somewhere less oppressively muggy she takes it. Now, for instance, she's enjoying some alone time seated on the edge of one of the pools, feet dipped ankles-deep in the water. It's an accessible spot, she hasn't gone out of her way to /be/ away, and she /looks/ receptive enough to the world, as receptive as one can look when their mind is wandering.
It's a pursuit for solitude that finds Ulyana approaching the falls. Naturally, that pursuit ends poorly for her, but sheer stubbornness seems to keep her going. She picks her way along the channel in bare feet, with her shoes in one hand and her skirts held out of the way with the other. The girl doesn't announce her presence, nor does she make any particular effort to -avoid- the pool that's presently occupied - just as the occupant hasn't made an effort to be avoided. It's the damp pat-pat of bare feet on stone and the whispering of skirts that gives her away and she doesn't deny her presence by making extra effort at quietness. She settles herself not too far away, very much mirroring the feet-dipped-in-water posture of the other woman, but without the obvious receptiveness on her face.
It isn't some great talent, Elise knowing that she isn't alone anymore. Maybe it has something to do with those soft pat-pats, or maybe it's just that she's tethered to a telepathic mind that belongs to a dragon that might not be too far away from here now, really. So it is that her eyes focus suddenly and she tilts her head to look up at first at Ulyana, then over when the girl chooses that spot to sit. She smiles, warm if not abundantly /cheerful/, and says, "Hi."
The blank look on Ulyana's face cracks at the greeting, yielding a peculiar furrowing of her forehead. This was clearly not anticipated. Her reply comes an awkward couple of seconds later in the form of: "Hello." There's another beat. Two. Then comes a slow blink and a flatly intoned, "If I am interrupting something, I can go elsewhere. I was just attempting to find somewhere quiet to sit." Her fingers are already bunched in her skirts as if bracing for precisely that result, though her feet remain resolutely in the water - still and pale like dead fish.
All of Ulyana's... everything strike a chord. There's something in the way she regards the younger person that suggests she might be somewhat familiar with this kind of... personality. Her smile isn't going anywhere, and neither should Ulyana it would seem. "No, you're not interrupting. Sit. Have quiet. Thank you, though. Can't say most people would care." Her eyes narrow very slightly, lacking in suspicion, above that smile. "I'm Elise, by the way. If we're going to be sitting, quieting companions."
The unexpected result occurs again and the crack in Ulyana's forehead persists. She relaxes her hold on her skirts, only to meticulously start folding and creasing them to keep them out of the water. Her feet remain still; her hands are the fidgety part of her, it would seem, at least until their task is done. "I see," says she, and then silence is left on her end to be filled by the other woman's words. The introduction isn't immediately responded to, as if some part of her mind must spend an extra-long amount of time parsing that social requirement. Her answer is as flat as her other words - and if Elise is keen on accents, she'll pick up a dose of Crom Hold in her words. "Ulyana of Crom Hold." The knots say the rest. "It is a pleasure to meet you," sounds stilted and strange, but at least the words are there.
That her companion doesn't seem the most talkative of people doesn't bother Elise, she carries on regardless. In those moments of silence or not-talking she tilts her head to hopefully make her attention seem less focused on the girl, so she isn't so much under a microscope. When her name is supplied her eyebrows punch together. "Ulyana of Crom, hm, I think someone mentioned your name to me recently actually, but maybe not. Did you just get here? I thought it might have been on a new arrivals roster." Her shrug conveys the option that maybe it doesn't matter all that much. "Anyway, you're here. It's a good thing I hope? Not being held here against your will?" That smile turns teasing.
On the other hand, once Elise is within Ulyana's sights, the girl doesn't bother hiding the intense sense of scrutiny. Her blinking is slow, practically reptilian - which is a fine descriptor for her, for the most part. She's utterly still now, save for the periodic shift of her expression. The lack of recognition seems to be expected; the further questioning yields a momentary furrowing of her brows and wrinkling of her nose. It's slight, but there. "No. I was Searched. I am not being held against my will." The latter is meant as a kind of reassurance, but it might fall predictably flat. "It has not been an unpleasant experience, but I am not sure if 'good' is the right word for it." Honest, at least. "Does my stay have to be a good thing?"
"Aha!" might be startling, since they're supposed to be enjoying the quiet, but she can't help herself. "That was it, it wasn't the new arrivals it was the candidate roster. You're one of those that stayed." And suddenly there's a new kind of something in Elise's regard. Ulyana earns points for her honest answers. "It doesn't," she replies in an easy tone. "Though I think it might be better for you, if it were to be something like nice. Or good. If you're here you might as well enjoy it. Why did you stay?"
It does startle, but Ulyana does a fine job of hiding it. The flattening of her mouth is the only real betrayal of her own surprise. "Yes," she confirms to the confirmation - and then comes that silence, the sound of things being processed. A singular shake of her head is given, a left-right-center motion that terminates as abruptly as it starts. "Discomfort- that is something I am comfortable with. I am not sure what would make staying here 'good'." Her mouth twitches to one side. "I stayed because I was asked to Stand. After I fulfill my promise, I will go home. Not before."
Comfort in discomfort? Elise's curiosity hikes up another notch. "What a strange creature you are," she comments, with a relevant amount of kindness and the corner of her mouth twitching again to threaten another of her impish smiles. "You were asked to Stand for Eliyaveith's, yes. But you stayed for the next? I can't lie and say I don't understand when I did exactly the same thing, but I didn't have anywhere else to go." Which might be meant for more than just idle obvservation, it might be meant as something more direct than that. Rather than linger on things more personal, she asks, "Who do you think will go up next?"
Shoulders rise and fall with apparent indifference; the sentiment is probably one Ulyana's heard before. "I am staying to Stand, regardless of how long it takes to do so. I do not want the blue that Searched me to feel as if he lied when he told me there would be a clutch." This seems to be of utter importance to her, weighted as the words are. Her head tilts slightly to one side at the next, seemingly content to leave matters lie as they are now. "I cannot say. It could be any of them - maybe even Eliyaveith." One shoulder rises and falls in a lopsided shrug." I do not think it matters much." A pause. Consideration. "Does it?"
Something softens in Elise's eyes for that. "That's very noble. And you've probably heard this before but nobody could be blamed for missing that mark. She flew, she was caught, then come eggs. Who could have known it wasn't going to happen quite as we all figured? Least of all those of us who weren't exactly born to this." A vague gesture incorporates the Weyr, somehow. "But... well. Anyway. You're here now." As for if it matters or not, she can only shrug similarly with her mouth a thin line. "I have no idea. But I'm curious to know who thinks what. Aedrielth hasn't let on, I'm not sure if she would know something like that anyway."
"I would prefer to think that she was playing pretend at motherhood." Ulyana lays no judgment in those words, but there is a sense of weight to them all the same. "That is why it is possible she will go up again - properly." She refolds her skirts over her knees and frowns just a touch at the damp edges. "I was looking in the records, but I could not find a case where a gold rose and did not clutch. It strikes me as strange." Troubling, even. Her mouth twists into a soured line that doesn't quite smooth out. "Aedrielth might also, but I do not know her. I do not know any of them - that is why it is hard for me to speculate." She blinks, then asks, as if struck by a strange revelation, "Do you think she would tell you if she knew? Or would she surprise you with it?"
"That could be," Elise figures, though she's noncommital about it. This is all, as they've said, speculation. "I know some would like to think that somehow it was all on purpose, some strange act, some fakey thing, but I don't think that's the case. Even if it might mean less worrisome things to assume it was just a trick. It's simpler to think that than it is to think there's something wrong and she needs help. And it isn't," she adds, all in the same thought, "in the records." There's certainty there for that. Ulyana's return-question lifts Elise's eyebrow. Her answer comes after a small pause. "I think... I think she would. She knows how I feel about the whole thing and it's our first time, so... I think she would. Or I hope." How quiet she got is a tell, clearly that's a strange topic for her. Not an entirely /good/ one.
"I do not feel it was a malicious trick, if it were. No more malicious than a girl playing with dolls and wanting a child of her own." The observation is made with a strange edge to it, of an observer looking in rather than through her own experience. Ulyana sits back a little and finally moves her feet - but only to push herself back. "If she is sick, the dragonhealers will fix it." Problem solved, if only to her mind. It's Elise's answer that garners the most interest, though, and the girl's inscrutable gaze shifts to rest squarely on her the whole time. Despite the goldrider's discomfort, she persists: "Do you think she would lie to you to make you happy? Knowing that you might not be comfortable with it?"
"Mm." It's a distracted noise, she's thinking about it all now, but she doesn't falter when Ulyana pushes this particular line of questions. If she's not exactly pleased with the subject matter she's brave or foolish enough to carry on anyway. "She can't lie," she replies, as if she's only just realizing that not everyone would know that about the pale queen. "In fact her honesty is more painful sometimes," is added, with a rueful little smile. "She doesn't shy away from the truth and she won't let me shy away from it either, even if it means I'm uncomfortable. We know that what comes next isn't going to be easy, so I think she would prepare me as best she could ahead of time. Is what I meant, I suppose." And when it might be easier to fall back into that thoughtful quiet, Elise rouses up her smile again with another shrug. "We'll see."
It's a lot to digest. To process. To file away in the queer corners of Ulyana's mind. She lapses into silence for a long stretch of time after that, her expression screwed up into one of intense thoughtfulness. After what feels like a full minute, she says, "Thank you." There's even an attempt at a smile, though that smile fits poorly on her face and is quickly shoved away as if to pretend it wasn't there to begin with. Elaboration follows, her words coming slowly, but steadily. "I am glad you are willing to answer my questions without getting frustrated. The other riders I spoke to did not appreciate my questions." Her fingers knot in her skirts, ruining the neat folds all over again. "It must be difficult to not know when the inevitable is going to happen. I will hope it is not terrible for you."
Oddly enough it's a smile that puzzles Elise, not the rest of Ulyana's mannerisms, or lack thereof. It's clear in the furrowed brow that she now wears. And though the thanks doesn't help just yet in clarifying anything, she accepts it all the same, that smile lingering. She'll wait for the explanation, and that confusion fades with each word, replaced by understanding. "A lot of people around here don't really like questions. Fort is the resting spot for a lot of different types. I'm not surprised you found contention but I'm sorry for it. And yes, it is." More honesty. "But it's not terrible now and it won't be, it'll just be..." That lapse into trying to find the right word transitions into a faded half-focus that turns into an apologetic cringe. "She's calling now, actually. I have to go, I'm sorry." Hopefully Ulyana will be used to riders just wandering off, but she's at least trying to be sane about it. She reaches for her own shoes, just there, and pulls herself free of the pool to stand. Once up, shoes on, she looks down at the younger of them and smiles that smile. "Thank you for sitting with me. Anytime you have questions, I'll try to find some answers for you." A little wave later and she's off.
"High Reaches is not much different," Ulyana offers, but that is all. Though Elise gets up, she remains where she is, still and strange as she's been for most of the conversation. She still has sitting time, after all, and she plans to take all of it. "I see," is her reply to the apology and the cringe. She's accustomed enough to it, it would seem. There might be a briefly troubled expression, but it's less at the abrupt departure and more for the word-that-wasn't-said. She dips her chin in a shallow nod, but there is no smile this time. Just a socially prescribed, "Take care." And a lingering look left in the rider's wake after she's gone.