Tools
Location: J'lor and Vellath's Weyr
Time: Afternoon on Day 22, Month 10, Turn 2
Players: J'lor and Aivey
Scene: Aivey has questions, and J'lor has some too.
The little weyr is cozy in its way. If by cozy, one means cluttered. And if by cluttered, one means pretty darn messy. What spare clothing the bluerider has can be found in little piles here and there. The legless bed is unmade, one of the sheets splayed out so it drapes halfway over the floor. His desk is an assortment of hides and one must presume that somewhere underneath is some sort of wooden furniture to support it. Various other items (A few long sticks with one end of each whittled to a point, a fishing rod, a pair of shoes, a well-worn riding jacket, Vellath's riding straps) lay in places they shouldn't. In the middle of it all sits the bluerider, cross-legged on the floor, very carefully inking in some sort of collection of Xes and Vs and dots onto a blank hide. His back is bent, brow slightly drawn. Lost in the concentration of his task.
Among other things, Aivey is good at intruding at the most inopportune of times. Thus the sounds of her arrival can be heard; the scrape of foot on stone, a light curse, a heaved breath and at last, Aivey herself at the mouth of J'lor's cave. Rolling her shoulder and dusting dirt gathered from the climb off her face and shirt, she musters a smile and a carefree attitude to greet the bluerider. All that work has the smile fading slightly, nearing upon disappointed, but she still asks, "Should I come back when you're not so busy, J'lor?"
The sounds gave away the fact that someone was coming, so by the time Aivey appears, J'lor has lifted his head and moved his stylus to keep ink from dripping onto the page. There is, however, slight surprise at -who- arrives on his ledge and is stepping towards his inner sanctum. The first question the bluerider asks, however, is "Should you be climbing? How is your shoulder?" But the stylus is dropped in the inkpot and J'lor is standing. "You're here. Of course come in. I'll..." A few quick steps take him to the bed and he begins to make it with a faintly abashed and rather apologetic smile. "A moment. There." Bed made, he gestures towards it. "Please sit." He himself plunks down on the floor again, legs crossing. "What is it?"
Light amusement replaces the earlier disappointment at J'lor's reaction. More then the actions he performs, Aivey watches the man until he's settled on the floor. "I didn't have a choice though it wasn't all that bad, my shoulder is fine and yes, I am here. I wanted to ask you something," Lightly replied as she moves to the space in front of J'lor - never mind the recently made bed - and parks herself there, "Do you have the time?"
"You always have a choice," J'lor answers gently. "You could have asked Vellath or one of the other riders to bring you. You could have waited until a mealtime and spoken with me then. But. You didn't." His hands rest on his knees as dark eyes study the slender girl. "Ask your question," he says with a small nod. Visual permission as well as verbal.
"That I didn't ask anyone to bring me should mean something." Aivey waits just long enough to see if the bluerider understands before continuing with, "I want to know what your perfect world is, J'lor. How would you shape it?"
The bluerider's head tips a bit to the side, expression quizzical at Aivey's first words. Not so much confusion at them, as curiosity. But at the question J'lor blinks slowly and then he laughs, shaking his head. "Aivey, that is not a question. That is a discussion. One that would take hours, or possibly days. What's made you wonder?"
Aivey smiles, unhumored, so it's more of a polite reaction then anything else. "People tell me I don't understand things here. I've recently come to agree with them so I thought it might help if I understood what you want. Was I wrong to ask, J'lor, or should I go on assuming what I like and fit things where I will?"
"I don't really think it's ever wrong to ask a question. I only say that, in this instance, there is no simple answer. I would also say that what I want and the way things are, even here, are very different and one only influences the other so much. Have you asked Derek the same question?" J'lor's brows lift, and again his head tips to the side. "Or if not, do you plan to? I suspect his vision has more impact on the island than does mine."
"The island is how it is. I don't think there's much about it that needs to be changed," Aivey says, "As for asking my father, I will, but I wanted to hear from you first. Much as you might not believe it, I do respect your opinions, J'lor." A subtle shift of her eyes draws her gaze more levelly upon his, placing emphasis on the truth behind the statement.
"Do you?" J'lor asks, his gaze returning Aivey's, holding it. "Do you come because you wished to know these things? Or because he asked you?"
"Both, actually." Aivey replies, smiling, "Does it matter that he thought it would benefit me to know what you wanted?"
"Yes," says J'lor simply. But he doesn't explain. He only draws in a slow breath. "What I want, or what I used to want, what I wanted, that had us sent here, was equality. For everyone. A community led by the people within it, rather than by a single person elevated above. A fluid network of leaders and doers. Freedom. Choices restricted by nothing but the decision of the chooser."
Aivey's head tilts slightly, considering J'lor's first answer, but the remainder of his words have the whole of her attention, "It's a good dream, J'lor. I do hope it becomes more then that, one of these days." She pauses, briefly, before adding, "I'll do what I can to help and I do want to learn. I think, somewhere along the line, I got confused. Will you help me?"
"It was flawed," J'lor says with a soft sigh. "I thought things, for a long time, that aren't so, and I built my idea on top of them. Now...I don't know. I haven't known for a little while. But, I'm always glad to talk things over, Aivey. Always, really, glad to talk." There is a faint smile, wry as he notes his own failings.
"Flawed, maybe, but not unfixable. Realize your mistakes, fix what was wrong and try again. Do you plan on staying here for the rest of what's left of your life?" Not harshly asked, so much as curiously. Aivey looks around the cave at the assortment of good things to be found, "You said you don't know what to think of me, J'lor. Why?"
"Remaining here becomes less and less an option," is J'lor's elusive reply. He shifts, bringing up his knees so he can lean forward, drape his arms on them, rest his chin on the ledge they create. Another posture that he and his daughter share. "Because you follow him, unquestioning. And you do not know him."
There is recognition in the position, and for a moment there's a small smile before it's gone and Aivey is back to sedately watching J'lor. "He's my father. It's what daughters do," Beat, "If you had a daughter, would you wish for her to love you? To do as you asked, to trust that you knew better then her?"
His eyes have drifted to settle on a spot over Aivey's shoulder, but at her words, they snap back to her. J'lor's expression is calm, but something in it has tightened. "Are we playing games now, Aivey? You and I? I don't believe I like this one very much."
"No, J'lor, we're not." Aivey, seeming genuine if nothing else, shakes her head. "You don't approve of how I look to my father, so I thought it fair to ask you if you had a daughter, would you want her to do the same. Derek is my father and I love him. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him."
"If I had a daughter, I would prefer she learn from me and use that knowledge to find her own path. If that is with me, or if it is not, would all depend. But most of it would depend on what she wanted." The bluerider's shoulders lift and fall.
"I use what my father tells me. I listen, I watch and I trust him. His path is my path, and I've chosen that." Aivey too shrugs, before adding a quiet, "I'd much rather stand with him, with you, then against you. I've lived their life, J'lor, and I prefer this one here." She's silent for a moment, before adding, "You're a good man, J'lor. If you wanted me to do something for you, all you have to do is ask. I'll listen to you just as I listen to him."
"In the end, we want different things, he and I." J'lor inhales slowly. "In the end, that will be a problem. What I want you to do, Aivey, is see him without blinders. But that may not be possible. And it likely wouldn't make a difference. I think perhaps you and he want the same things."
Aivey, silent for a moment, responds with, "What is it you think we want then? What is it... what about him do you think I haven't already seen? Help me understand, J'lor. Pretend I'm unable to."
"I think he wants to maintain power and gain more of it. I think he wants blood for blood. I think he wants strength and power to be one in the same. I think you want to help him. Because he's your father. I think, no matter what he wanted, you would help him. What he wants does not matter to you, only that he wants it." J'lor watches Aivey for a while, but then his gaze again drifts, up and away, to something on the wall by his bed and above her head. "He sees people as tools. Items. Beloved, some of them. Appreciated for their usefulness. But replaceable. Breakable. Whatever is necessary, ultimately, will be done."
"I wanted blood for blood," Aivey says, "When I was at the Weyr, doing everything I did, it's what I was after. What I would've had, had Jensen not escaped when he did. What I'd still want if he wouldn't have told me vengeance isn't what he's after." Aivey shrugs a shoulder, then leans back enough to rest on her elbows and tilts her chin up to keep J'lor in plain sight, "In the long run, J'lor, that's all anyone ever is. Tools. The people following you were tools of your cause. Without them, you had no cause. Without them, you had no one to support you. Without the people here on this island working, there would be no community here. I'm okay with that."
"I'm not. And I don't see it that way," comes J'lor's soft reply. "But if you do, then you have likely chosen the right man to follow. Well done." The words are not particularly approving. They are not much of anything, except flat and bland.
The lack of approval, his flat statement have Aivey straightening and mimicking his position. Her words are a stark contrast being quite serious, "You look at it like it's a bad thing, J'lor, but it's not. Tools-" She pauses, takes a deep breath, "Tools are good things. They're used to shape things, to improve things." She stops there, likely squashing a desire to continue in order to switch focus to something else, "If you think I'm following the wrong man, the wrong path, then show me another, J'lor. Show me what you want so that I can want it too."
"Tools can do nothing, until they are wielded. To call us tools implies that someone else has the right, is more, while we are less. I disagree." J'lor holds his gaze above her head, blinking slowly at whatever he regards. "I don't think that's possible, Aivey." convincing her. "But we can talk, if you like."
"Look at me," Aivey requests at the end of his statement.
One dark brow goes up, but, obediently, J'lor's eyes lower to settle on Aivey's face.
Aivey's eyes meet his and she says, "I value your opinion, J'lor. Doubt anything else about me that you want, but don't doubt that."
Another one of those long and slow studies of Aivey's face before the bluerider says, soft and simple, "All right."
"I won't hold you up any longer." Aivey eases out of her adopted position and moves toward the exit, but stops at the threshold where stone meets air to turn one last look on the bluerider, then, with only a little awkwardness at starting the impending descent, departs.
Time: Afternoon on Day 22, Month 10, Turn 2
Players: J'lor and Aivey
Scene: Aivey has questions, and J'lor has some too.
The little weyr is cozy in its way. If by cozy, one means cluttered. And if by cluttered, one means pretty darn messy. What spare clothing the bluerider has can be found in little piles here and there. The legless bed is unmade, one of the sheets splayed out so it drapes halfway over the floor. His desk is an assortment of hides and one must presume that somewhere underneath is some sort of wooden furniture to support it. Various other items (A few long sticks with one end of each whittled to a point, a fishing rod, a pair of shoes, a well-worn riding jacket, Vellath's riding straps) lay in places they shouldn't. In the middle of it all sits the bluerider, cross-legged on the floor, very carefully inking in some sort of collection of Xes and Vs and dots onto a blank hide. His back is bent, brow slightly drawn. Lost in the concentration of his task.
Among other things, Aivey is good at intruding at the most inopportune of times. Thus the sounds of her arrival can be heard; the scrape of foot on stone, a light curse, a heaved breath and at last, Aivey herself at the mouth of J'lor's cave. Rolling her shoulder and dusting dirt gathered from the climb off her face and shirt, she musters a smile and a carefree attitude to greet the bluerider. All that work has the smile fading slightly, nearing upon disappointed, but she still asks, "Should I come back when you're not so busy, J'lor?"
The sounds gave away the fact that someone was coming, so by the time Aivey appears, J'lor has lifted his head and moved his stylus to keep ink from dripping onto the page. There is, however, slight surprise at -who- arrives on his ledge and is stepping towards his inner sanctum. The first question the bluerider asks, however, is "Should you be climbing? How is your shoulder?" But the stylus is dropped in the inkpot and J'lor is standing. "You're here. Of course come in. I'll..." A few quick steps take him to the bed and he begins to make it with a faintly abashed and rather apologetic smile. "A moment. There." Bed made, he gestures towards it. "Please sit." He himself plunks down on the floor again, legs crossing. "What is it?"
Light amusement replaces the earlier disappointment at J'lor's reaction. More then the actions he performs, Aivey watches the man until he's settled on the floor. "I didn't have a choice though it wasn't all that bad, my shoulder is fine and yes, I am here. I wanted to ask you something," Lightly replied as she moves to the space in front of J'lor - never mind the recently made bed - and parks herself there, "Do you have the time?"
"You always have a choice," J'lor answers gently. "You could have asked Vellath or one of the other riders to bring you. You could have waited until a mealtime and spoken with me then. But. You didn't." His hands rest on his knees as dark eyes study the slender girl. "Ask your question," he says with a small nod. Visual permission as well as verbal.
"That I didn't ask anyone to bring me should mean something." Aivey waits just long enough to see if the bluerider understands before continuing with, "I want to know what your perfect world is, J'lor. How would you shape it?"
The bluerider's head tips a bit to the side, expression quizzical at Aivey's first words. Not so much confusion at them, as curiosity. But at the question J'lor blinks slowly and then he laughs, shaking his head. "Aivey, that is not a question. That is a discussion. One that would take hours, or possibly days. What's made you wonder?"
Aivey smiles, unhumored, so it's more of a polite reaction then anything else. "People tell me I don't understand things here. I've recently come to agree with them so I thought it might help if I understood what you want. Was I wrong to ask, J'lor, or should I go on assuming what I like and fit things where I will?"
"I don't really think it's ever wrong to ask a question. I only say that, in this instance, there is no simple answer. I would also say that what I want and the way things are, even here, are very different and one only influences the other so much. Have you asked Derek the same question?" J'lor's brows lift, and again his head tips to the side. "Or if not, do you plan to? I suspect his vision has more impact on the island than does mine."
"The island is how it is. I don't think there's much about it that needs to be changed," Aivey says, "As for asking my father, I will, but I wanted to hear from you first. Much as you might not believe it, I do respect your opinions, J'lor." A subtle shift of her eyes draws her gaze more levelly upon his, placing emphasis on the truth behind the statement.
"Do you?" J'lor asks, his gaze returning Aivey's, holding it. "Do you come because you wished to know these things? Or because he asked you?"
"Both, actually." Aivey replies, smiling, "Does it matter that he thought it would benefit me to know what you wanted?"
"Yes," says J'lor simply. But he doesn't explain. He only draws in a slow breath. "What I want, or what I used to want, what I wanted, that had us sent here, was equality. For everyone. A community led by the people within it, rather than by a single person elevated above. A fluid network of leaders and doers. Freedom. Choices restricted by nothing but the decision of the chooser."
Aivey's head tilts slightly, considering J'lor's first answer, but the remainder of his words have the whole of her attention, "It's a good dream, J'lor. I do hope it becomes more then that, one of these days." She pauses, briefly, before adding, "I'll do what I can to help and I do want to learn. I think, somewhere along the line, I got confused. Will you help me?"
"It was flawed," J'lor says with a soft sigh. "I thought things, for a long time, that aren't so, and I built my idea on top of them. Now...I don't know. I haven't known for a little while. But, I'm always glad to talk things over, Aivey. Always, really, glad to talk." There is a faint smile, wry as he notes his own failings.
"Flawed, maybe, but not unfixable. Realize your mistakes, fix what was wrong and try again. Do you plan on staying here for the rest of what's left of your life?" Not harshly asked, so much as curiously. Aivey looks around the cave at the assortment of good things to be found, "You said you don't know what to think of me, J'lor. Why?"
"Remaining here becomes less and less an option," is J'lor's elusive reply. He shifts, bringing up his knees so he can lean forward, drape his arms on them, rest his chin on the ledge they create. Another posture that he and his daughter share. "Because you follow him, unquestioning. And you do not know him."
There is recognition in the position, and for a moment there's a small smile before it's gone and Aivey is back to sedately watching J'lor. "He's my father. It's what daughters do," Beat, "If you had a daughter, would you wish for her to love you? To do as you asked, to trust that you knew better then her?"
His eyes have drifted to settle on a spot over Aivey's shoulder, but at her words, they snap back to her. J'lor's expression is calm, but something in it has tightened. "Are we playing games now, Aivey? You and I? I don't believe I like this one very much."
"No, J'lor, we're not." Aivey, seeming genuine if nothing else, shakes her head. "You don't approve of how I look to my father, so I thought it fair to ask you if you had a daughter, would you want her to do the same. Derek is my father and I love him. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him."
"If I had a daughter, I would prefer she learn from me and use that knowledge to find her own path. If that is with me, or if it is not, would all depend. But most of it would depend on what she wanted." The bluerider's shoulders lift and fall.
"I use what my father tells me. I listen, I watch and I trust him. His path is my path, and I've chosen that." Aivey too shrugs, before adding a quiet, "I'd much rather stand with him, with you, then against you. I've lived their life, J'lor, and I prefer this one here." She's silent for a moment, before adding, "You're a good man, J'lor. If you wanted me to do something for you, all you have to do is ask. I'll listen to you just as I listen to him."
"In the end, we want different things, he and I." J'lor inhales slowly. "In the end, that will be a problem. What I want you to do, Aivey, is see him without blinders. But that may not be possible. And it likely wouldn't make a difference. I think perhaps you and he want the same things."
Aivey, silent for a moment, responds with, "What is it you think we want then? What is it... what about him do you think I haven't already seen? Help me understand, J'lor. Pretend I'm unable to."
"I think he wants to maintain power and gain more of it. I think he wants blood for blood. I think he wants strength and power to be one in the same. I think you want to help him. Because he's your father. I think, no matter what he wanted, you would help him. What he wants does not matter to you, only that he wants it." J'lor watches Aivey for a while, but then his gaze again drifts, up and away, to something on the wall by his bed and above her head. "He sees people as tools. Items. Beloved, some of them. Appreciated for their usefulness. But replaceable. Breakable. Whatever is necessary, ultimately, will be done."
"I wanted blood for blood," Aivey says, "When I was at the Weyr, doing everything I did, it's what I was after. What I would've had, had Jensen not escaped when he did. What I'd still want if he wouldn't have told me vengeance isn't what he's after." Aivey shrugs a shoulder, then leans back enough to rest on her elbows and tilts her chin up to keep J'lor in plain sight, "In the long run, J'lor, that's all anyone ever is. Tools. The people following you were tools of your cause. Without them, you had no cause. Without them, you had no one to support you. Without the people here on this island working, there would be no community here. I'm okay with that."
"I'm not. And I don't see it that way," comes J'lor's soft reply. "But if you do, then you have likely chosen the right man to follow. Well done." The words are not particularly approving. They are not much of anything, except flat and bland.
The lack of approval, his flat statement have Aivey straightening and mimicking his position. Her words are a stark contrast being quite serious, "You look at it like it's a bad thing, J'lor, but it's not. Tools-" She pauses, takes a deep breath, "Tools are good things. They're used to shape things, to improve things." She stops there, likely squashing a desire to continue in order to switch focus to something else, "If you think I'm following the wrong man, the wrong path, then show me another, J'lor. Show me what you want so that I can want it too."
"Tools can do nothing, until they are wielded. To call us tools implies that someone else has the right, is more, while we are less. I disagree." J'lor holds his gaze above her head, blinking slowly at whatever he regards. "I don't think that's possible, Aivey." convincing her. "But we can talk, if you like."
"Look at me," Aivey requests at the end of his statement.
One dark brow goes up, but, obediently, J'lor's eyes lower to settle on Aivey's face.
Aivey's eyes meet his and she says, "I value your opinion, J'lor. Doubt anything else about me that you want, but don't doubt that."
Another one of those long and slow studies of Aivey's face before the bluerider says, soft and simple, "All right."
"I won't hold you up any longer." Aivey eases out of her adopted position and moves toward the exit, but stops at the threshold where stone meets air to turn one last look on the bluerider, then, with only a little awkwardness at starting the impending descent, departs.